The Keepers

To Bee or Not to Bee

From his vantage point atop the 20-foot ceiling, the entire ballroom of Atlanta's vintage Shiloh Hotel was visible in a 360-degree view through the eyes of his tiny drone. He could see that the little troop of workers below were busy as, well...bees.

He smiled and stroked the ends of his handlebar mustache.

Everything about the hotel bespoke tasteful, understated, timeless elegance; from the coffered ceiling, to the classic chandeliers, to the antique pine panels, to the inlaid-wooden floors, to the French doors that flanked an entire wall and opened onto a stone patio surrounded by cherry trees in full bloom. Nothing was overdone, gaudy, or that most horrible of words, trendy.

Of course, the secret exits that led to a variety of unusual locations added another layer of appeal that was especially relevant to his line of work. Who wouldn't want to hold an important event in such a magical location?

His associates had made a wise choice. Yes, everything seemed to be coming together nicely.

He was tempted to reveal his presence to the odds-on favorite in this match, but a nagging feeling compelled him to wait under a veil of secrecy. Best to let things progress a bit. Deception was a delicate game, and he needed to play his hand with caution. On the off-chance his bet did not win, his reputation could be sullied. Remaining incognito insured that, to the naked eye, he was an innocent bystander. However, if all went according to plan, they would need him on their side, and he, in turn, would gain unfathomable power.

He commanded his "drone" to proceed and in a few seconds found himself staring down at the lobby. Below, people scurried in and out of the ballroom doors carrying boxes and sundry items. Clerks busied themselves behind the carved mahogany front desk, engrossed in whatever tedious tasks such people performed. One maid used a manual sweeper to silently clean the plush oriental carpets, while another polished the impressive grand staircase's railing. No one noticed the subtle buzz of his UAV—unmanned aerial "vehicle."

He saw that annoying mutt on the floor next to the girl, who was taking a piano lesson. The child was seated at the black Steinway grand, slaughtering Gabel's "Twilight Waltz". Not that he particularly liked Gabel, anyway. A purist like himself tended to prefer the true classics.

Everyone at The Shiloh was going about their business as usual without a care in the world. No one below seemed to have even the tiniest inkling of the momentous events soon to unfold in this very establishment. The secret knowledge was rather exciting.

The lobby doors opened and he buzzed his drone outside, where he observed an idiotic but useful someone galumphing toward the hotel.

"Enough," he whispered.

The bee drone dropped so fast it almost hit the ground. But the creature "came to" before it could splat onto the driveway, and flew off toward a stand of bright red azalea bushes at the edge of the property.

Investigation work, especially when it involved insects, made his skin crawl. Quite frankly, such menial tasks were beneath him. But one did what one had to do during times of war. Even if one of the sides did not yet realize they were at war.

Time for a quick shower and perhaps a late lunch in the hotel's restaurant. The chef here made an excellent ham, brie and apple sandwich, which was served with a delectable spinach and walnut salad tossed in a citrus-poppy seed dressing, and a cup of the soup de jour.

When all this was over, he would suggest the new proprietors keep on the kitchen staff...who most probably would not want to remain. But there were certainly ways, although not always pleasant, to make people change their minds.