Early the next morning, as the sunrays finally pierced through the dense layers of fluffy clouds, they gently caressed a series of closed buds of purplish wildflowers.
The light seemed to give them that final touch of care, urging them to bloom at any moment. All around, scores of butterflies hovered in eager anticipation.
The orchard was waking up, and with it, the lazy spirit of Sunday.
Underneath the flower stalks, a group of ladybugs was extensively pondering over which leaf to start chomping on, even though they all tasted the same. On the half-bent branches of the mango tree, birds chirped as they went about their business, collecting trinkets for their nests. All in all, the morning was serene and calm.
But it was all about to change.
Some distance away, a swarm of bees hovered and took position near the wall.
At first glance, they appeared to be ordinary bumblebees, but a closer inspection revealed a different story. They wore thick tactical goggles and menacing helmets that seamlessly merged with layers of protective clothing covering their entire bodies. A belt of gadgets circled their abdomens, complete with extra stingers for emergencies. These bees were not here for their usual purposes.
"Come in, Nector#1," said one particular bee clad in majestic, deep bluish armor, standing out from the rest.
"Nector#1 here, sir."
"Call the bird and move to the western checkpoint."
"Copy that, sir. The bird is called."
Soon, a frantic, eye-twitching, beak-broken crow streaked through the air and smacked into the window—the same window the girls had used to sneak the cloud in the day before. The strike was so loud that the window shook in its frame. The bird flew away, and moments later, Ms. Amna opened it and looked around.
Taking advantage of the open window, the commander gestured, and two squadrons of bees sneakily moved in.
"Incursion successful, sir."
"Come in, Nector#2," the commander spoke into his antennas.
"Nector#2 here, sir."
"Move north with your team and get ready for a cup of tea from our hosts." At this, all the bees giggled ominously.
They had studied the inhabitants well for days before this incursion. By now, the bees knew the exact routines of everyone in the household.
Isra's father would leave for his hearty morning walk every day, including Sunday, at precisely seven a.m. Just before that, her mother would rise to prepare chai and paratha—a local delicacy of flatbread and eggs—for the whole family.
All of this was preparation to free a prisoner. The bees had sent their elite squadrons to liberate the cloud.
It wasn't like they were friends with the cloud or anything. It was simply business.
The bees moved stealthily, activating mechanisms in their suits to silence their buzzing as they landed on yellow and black objects in the dining room, hiding perfectly in plain sight.
Their plan was flawless. They had conditioned it for days, factoring in every personality type in the house. There was no way it could fail.
The plan was to drop a bee into Isra's tea, triggering panic and making her rush to the terrace, where she'd pour the tea into a pot plant. From there, the bee would be rescued by the medical team. Nector#2 Squadron would then search her room for the hostage while Nector#1 engaged the family.
With Mr. Sherjan out on his walk, no one would be strong enough to stop two elite squadrons of the yellow and black ops. In theory, they'd be let out graciously and even offered biscuits and honey.
The plan was so perfect that no one dared raise a single question about it—except one bee, but it had been taken care of.
Nector#1 Squadron swiftly moved into position, hiding behind the TV. As the family settled around the dining table, they looked so peaceful and unaware of what was about to happen.
"You know, Isra, she may have sneaked in another cat," said Ms. Amna.
"We've been through this, Amna. Unless you see a cat in Isra's hand, she's clean," replied Mr. Sherjan, his tone as carefree as the breeze. Isra smiled, a little too smugly.
Haniya was busy eating from Isra's plate, despite her own plate being full, just to annoy her. Miraaj, meanwhile, stared at the TV, which was shut off.
"Okay, I'm going. Who's coming with me today?" Mr. Sherjan said enthusiastically.
Everyone fell silent, pretending not to hear him.
"Ah, come on. It's really refreshing outside. You'll love it." He insisted, but was met with silence again.
"Fine!" Mr. Sherjan huffed, standing up and walking out.
The commander gestured, and a bee zipped out from behind the TV, aiming for the dining table.
SMACK!
It dropped instantly. Another bee darted forward.
SMACK!
And then another.
SMACK! SMACK!
Suddenly, chaos erupted.
Miraaj, the elder sister, had abandoned her food and grabbed a tennis racket. No one knew where the racket had come from, but she swung it with a precision that could rival a professional player.
The bees panicked. This wasn't in the plan.
One by one, they fell, their ranks decimated. The grotesque scene filled the remaining bees with disbelief. The one family member they had declared uninteresting and unimportant had single-handedly dismantled their operation.
Nector#1 Squadron was no more.
"Abort! Abort!"
The commander's voice trembled with pain. "Nector#1 has been done in. Retreat immediately."
The surviving bees scattered, their hearts heavy with grief.
"We've lost some of our best bees," the commander said solemnly. "But we will return!"
And so, they fled, leaving behind their fallen comrades and a failed mission.
For the cloud, another day of captivity had begun.