“It’s less safe than ever to fly, so we’re just not gonna do it,” he said in an interview.

Not wanting to be stuck here, in case things get really bad, I called his Airway Reservation Line, and some Worker Bee answered. “WTF?” she said.

“Yes,” I said. “Might it bee possible for me to arrange for a ticket for a Non-Stop Flight to Narka, Kansas, beefore you cease Operations?” (I’m pretty sure Narka is a safe place to bee, at least for now, though I’m not entirely sure they’re going to keep the Tours of the Egg Candling Factory open, which would bee heavily disappointing.)

“No,” she said, “and please don’t call again.” Then she hung up on me.

Geeeeeeeeeze. The idea of having to fly to Narka, Kansas under my own Wing Power absolutely doesn’t appeal to me, so I’ve decided to just stay right here in my ShoeBox (though I might buzz over to Great Grandma Gee Gee’s BootBox to see if I can snag a Large Supply of her delicious (and mostly nutritious) Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™. I still haven’t had Breakfast, so I hope she has some she can give me.

So that’s what I’m gonna do.

Let’s all bee Highly Careful out there!

“First, uncle,” he said, “I would appreciate it very much if you would not only watch your Language, but that you also kindly back up about ten wing-lengths, if you don’t mind. You’re the best uncle in the world, and I love you, but you’re standing WAY too close to me.”

“Fine, but why?” I asked as I backed up.

“Well,” Kevin said, “it appears our community has been stricken with some sort of Highly Contagious and Potentially Unpleasant Ailment, which has made indulging hanging out in a Swarm a really bad idea. Mayor Billy Bee, acting under the Authority of Her Insufferable Majesty, the Queen, and in concert with Hive Council on Grave Health Concerns, issued a Hive-Wide Advisory that we all must actively avoid each other to minimise the Risk of this thing making everybody sick. That means no Swarming, and no Book Club Meetings.”

“Oh geeeeze,” I said. “What are the Symptoms of this thing?”

“They’re not pretty, uncle. The earliest signs of Infection are that your Fuzz turns green, then it all falls out. Then your Antenna go limp,” Kevin said.

“That sounds Highly Unpleasant,” I said.

“It is,” Kevin said. “And that’s why Mayor Billy Bee told everybody they had to Keep their Distance from each other. Of course, since it’s impossible to pull that off inside a crowded Hive, everybody grabbed as much Honey and Pollen as they could, and left. That’s also where all your Honey and Food went. Fernando, a close Associate and Mostly Cordial Acquaintance of mine, knew you were asleep, and took all your stuff.”

“So where did he take it?!?” I asked.

“I would venture to guess that Fernando took it to his Hide-Away,” Kevin told me.

“So where’s Fernando’s Hide-Away?” I asked him.

“If I knew that, uncle, it wouldn’t bee a Hide-Away, now would it?”

“Fine,” I said. Then I asked, “So are you telling me that everybody in the Hive left?”

“Yes,” Kevin said.

“Where did they all go?” I had to know.

“Different places. I think Fleur de Bee went back to Paris - not that it’s any better there, and BigFoot is hiding out in the library, which makes sense. ButterCup went to live with her sister, Tweak (those two already keep their distance, so that works for them), Rudy went to stay at a friend’s place in Soho while the friend is out of town, and anybody else who didn’t know where to go just followed the Queen to where-ever she went to. Typical.”

I asked him if Great Grandma Gee Gee was also going to move out of the Boot Box, also, but he said, “No. She’s staying. She says the world is depending on her continuing to provide an ample supply her delicious and mostly nutritious Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™, so she feels an obligation to stay. But she says she’ll only be taking orders Online, so . . . . Anyway, I need to go now.”

I wondered where Kevin was planning to go, so I had to ask, “Where are you going?”, I asked.

“Oh, I thought I’d fly east and spend some time with the Primsdales. They have a nice, room Guest Room at their place in Salina, Kansas, so I’ll bee staying with them until this whole mess is over.”

“The Primsdales?”

“Yes. You remember them, right? They were contestants on that Game Show last year.”

“Oh yeah, right. They seemed like a nice couple,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter if they’re particularly nice or not, uncle. They’ve got a Surplus of Space in Kansas, so that’s where I’m going. Bye now.”

With that, he picked up his Sack (the same one he showed up with all those years ago), waved at me, and left.

You know, I’d leave also, as well, but I don’t live with anybody, so I might as well stay in my ShoeBox.

In the meantime, I think I’ll think about paying a visit to the Hive and see if there’s any Honey or Pollen left in there. I really need some Breakfast already. I'm starving.

So I’m gonna go do that.

Let’s all bee Highly Careful out there.

I walked over to Bert and and asked him what the hell he was doing in my Living Room, and why he was just staring at me. As I got closer, I saw that he was Asleep, so I hit his On Button. He started to make Whirring and Buzzing noises, then he lifted up one of those metallic wings of his, and said, “I must request that you approach me no closer, and that you promptly cease to violate my Personal Space by increasing the distance between us by a minimum of 15.72 Inches. Or Else. Thank you for your Compliance.”

So I did that. (When I thought about it, I probably did have terrible Morning Mouth after mostly beeing asleep for the last, few months, ya’ know? And I also couldn’t find my tube of SparklyFace Mint MouthPart Paste, so I hadn’t brushed yet.)

“Do I need a breath mint?” I asked him, not that I had one of those any more than I had a bunch of Honey anymore.

“A breath mint,” Bert said, “is not required. My Request is based on the fact that, until Further Notice, a minimum of 15.72 Inches beetween our Respective Personal Spaces must bee maintained at All Times, as Mandated by Royal Proclamation Number 80645387-A which was implemented as a Measure to Minimize the Potential for Unintended Transmission of a Now-Present and Highly Unique Contagion sweeping through the Hive. Thank you for your Compliance.”

So I did that.

Then he said, “The Local Time is precisely 16:08:00 hours in 3...2...1 seconds. The Outdoor Temperature Reading is a balmy 269.817 Degrees Kelvin. Have a nice day.”

“Wait,” I said to him, “A Highly Unique Contagion? Like a Germ or something? And do you by any chance know what might have happened to all my Morning Nectar and Honey and Pollen Puffs?”

“Yes, and no,” Bert said.

“What?” I asked.

“Yes, the Contagion is like a Germ, and no, I am not aware of what happened to your Food Supplies,” Bert said.

I was most worried about my Honey and stuff, and since I’m feeling just fine, mostly, I was sure I haven’t caught whatever this Contagion might bee, probably, but I was sure Bert had to have seen SOMETHING, so I asked him again,“Then who does? I wanna know. You’ve apparently been sitting here for awhile now, right?”

“Correct,” Bert said.

“So you must have seen something, right?”

“Possibly,” Bert said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean ‘Possibly’ ?” I asked him politely.

“My sensors indicate that, immediately prior to my Temporary DeActivation, an individual identified as ‘Fernando’, a known associate of your Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin, had entered these premises. Should you require additional Profile Data on this individual, I advise you to consult with Kevin.”

“Fine,” I said.

“The Local Time is precisely 16:10 and 32 seconds in 3…2…1. The Outdoor Temperature Reading is holding steady at a balmy 269.817 Degrees Kelvin. Have a nice day,” Bert said, then he went into Low Power Mode and just kind of hummed (his Batteries must bee running down…which reminds me…I also need to get some Batteries).

Geeeeeze. This is just great. I still haven’t had a chance to talk to Kevin - and it’s still too dam cold out to even think about going anywhere, so now I hafta wait until it warms up enough to let me buzz over to talk to him about this Fernando guy. Seriously now. I’m getting Highly Hungry. Hopefully, I’ll find out what in the hell happened to all my honey and stuff - and maybee even finally bee able to have some breakfast.

And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do…just as soon as it warms up.

Let’s all bee Highly Safe out there.

I'm awake? Why the hell am I awake?!?? I was supposed to still bee asleep at least until the new Warm Season got here, for cryin' out loud.

Where is my Morning Nectar? Where is my stash of HoneyFlake Cereal?

And where is the hell is all my Honey???

What the actual hell is going on around here???