Golem 100

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There were eight of them who met in the hive every week to warm themselves and each other. They were charming bee-ladies, attractive and sweet-tempered despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that they were all secure and assured. (The less-privileged classes called them “high mucky-fucks.”)

They were not all cut from the identical pattern like insect-type bees. They were intensely individual, human-type ladies even though they were living far in our future. After all, our heirs won’t change all that much. Each of them had her own kinky eccentricity which is the true source of charm.

Each had a secret name, as indeed we all do, and that was their real reality. Perhaps I’m committing a heinous crime in revealing them—T.S. Eliot insisted that the secret name of a creature, “the deep and inscrutable singular Name,” could and should be known to no one—but the bee-ladies knew them and used them, so here they are:

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