Hellstrom's Hive Read Free Page B

Merrivale’s description of Trova Hellstrom that the intended picture was of a tiny “widow woman” fighting off attacking redskins from a blazing log cabin, her brats passing a bucket brigade behind her. The man was unbelievable.
    â€œHere’s the map,” Merrivale said, extracting it from the papers on his desk. “Southeastern Oregon, right here.” He touched the map with a finger. “Guarded Valley. The closest civilization is this town here with the unlikely appellation of Fosterville.”
    Carr wondered: Why an unlikely name? She glanced covertly at Janvert, but he was examining the palm of his right hand as though he had just found something fascinating in it.
    â€œAnd they do all of their filming in this valley?” Depeaux asked.
    â€œOh, no!” Merrivale protested. “My God, Carlos. Didn’t you read enclosures R through W?”
    â€œThere were no such enclosures in my file,” Depeaux said.
    â€œBloody hell!” Merrivale said. “Sometimes, I wonder how we ever get anything done correctly in this establishment. Very well. I’ll give you mine. Briefly, Hellstrom and his camera crews and whatnot have been all over the bloody world: Kenya, Brazil, Southeast Asia, India—it’s all in here.” He tapped the papers on his desk. “You can see for yourself later.”
    â€œAnd this Project 40?” Depeaux asked.
    â€œThat’s what attracted our attention,” Merrivale explained. “The pertinent papers were copied and the originals returned to where they were found. The Hellstrom aide subsequently returned for his papers, found them where he expected, took them, and departed. Their significance was not understood atthe time. Purely routine. Our man on the library staff was curious, no more, but the curiosity became increasingly intense as the papers were bounced upstairs. Unfortunately, we’ve not had the opportunity to observe this particular Hellstrom aide since that moment. He apparently is keeping to the farm. It is our belief, however, that Hellstrom is unaware that we know about his little project.”
    â€œThe speculation seems a little like science fiction, more than a little fantastic,” Depeaux said.
    Janvert nodded his agreement. Were those explicit suspicions the real reason the Agency was prying into Hellstrom’s affairs? Or was it possible that Hellstrom was merely developing a product that threatened one of the groups that actually paid most of the Agency’s expenses? You never knew in this business.
    â€œHaven’t I heard of this Hellstrom before?” Carr asked. “Isn’t he the entomologist who came out against DDT when—”
    â€œThat’s the chap!” Merrivale said. “Pure fanatic. Now, here’s the farmstead plan, Carlos.”
    So much for my question, Carr thought. She curled her legs under her in the wing chair, glanced openly at Janvert, who returned her stare with a grin. He’s just been playing with Merrivale, she realized, and he thinks I’m in the game.
    Merrivale had a blueprint map on his desk now, unfolding it, indicating features on it with his long, sensitive fingers. “Barn here—outbuildings—main house. We have every reason to believe, as those reports indicate, that the barn is Hellstrom’s studio. Curious concrete structure here near the entrance gate. Can’t say what purpose it serves. Your job to find out.”
    â€œAnd you don’t want us to go right in, nose around,” Depeaux said. He frowned at the blueprint map. This decision puzzled him. “The young woman who tried to get away—”
    â€œYes, that was March 20 last,” Merrivale said. “Porter saw her run from the barn. She got as far as the north gate here when shewas apprehended by two men who came upon her from beyond the fence. Their point of origin was not determined. They did, however, return her to the