A Rustle in the Grass

by Robin Hawdon

  So the leaders went inside the mound and left the worker-ants masters of the clearing, but exposed to the elements and the predators of the forest and the Lord of the Stars' darkness.

  14

  He was relaxing out amongst the dry summer grasses, on the bank above the stream. These were the good days, the rich days at the height of the summer, and he was out there with his friends taking life easy, luxuriating in the warmth, the sweet smells of the earth, the soothing ripple of the water and the glories of the golden world around them. Joker was there, and Snake's Tongue and Still One also – and Old Five Legs, and even a lazy, relaxed Black Sting reclining nearby. Several others too, amongst them, strangely, Fleet and one or two of the red ants. And the talk meandered languidly back and forth, the laughter flowed frequently and there was no sense of caste, rank or authority of any kind – merely an easy, warm, equal friendship that brought with it an immense sense of pleasurable well-being. And each ant had something to say, adding to the contribution of the ant before, so that the discussion progressed to ever more fascinating depths and the ideas blossomed with ever more thrilling implications, all taking delight in the minds of one another.

  After a while he rose casually from his place and wandered at ease to the stream's edge, gazing down into the shimmering depths of the water, and at the same time far into the blue mysteries of the sky reflected there. And he whispered to the water: 'That is my purpose. To live at ease with all of my kind; to abandon struggle and argument, questing and ambition; to embrace companionship, acceptance and surrender; to be at peace with the world. Surely that is my purpose.'

  And the strangely familiar Voice rippled from the water: 'Yes, that is a splendid purpose. But how do you persuade the world to be at peace with you?'

  And it was gone, and he awoke to darkness, and to cold, and to the voices of the enemy.

  15

  They could tell by the subtle changes in temperature that they had been held captive for three days and nights so far, and the fourth day was now commencing. They were being kept in a small chamber deep inside the vast mound where they had been brought that first terrible day of their capture, when Snake's Tongue had lost part of his antenna in such a hideous way. He was much recovered now. The injury had given him great pain the first two days, causing fever and strange hallucinations, but their captor, Fleet, had seen to it that various herbs and remedies had been supplied with which to treat the wound and it was healing well. Snake's Tongue did admit to having lost a part of his sensory faculty, but otherwise he made no complaint, merely maintained a stoical silence. Dreamer knew, however, what a terrible deprivation the assault must have been, particularly to such a splendid fighter as Snake's Tongue, and both he and Joker were tactfully solicitous of their leader's well-being.

  They were being treated reasonably well, albeit with scant respect. There was a regular guard outside their chamber, of two red ants who paid them little attention, but at least left them to their own devices. The fact that prisoners outnumbered guards did not seem to concern their captors in the slightest. They were obviously confident of their own vastly superior fighting abilities, and secure in the knowledge that the passages outside were always swarming with others who could be immediately called on to help and trusted to frustrate any attempt at escape. Indeed the general attitude of the big ants to their many captives seemed extremely casual. The three prisoners could tell from the various sounds in the darkness that work parties made up of smaller brown ants were constantly moving back and forth along the tunnels outside, all only very loosely guarded by a small, relatively relaxed number of red soldiers, and yet they never detected any signs of rebellion or flight. It seemed that the likelihood of success was so remote and the threat of retribution so strong, that none considered the attempt worthwhile.

  The one member of the enemy with whom they had regular contact was Fleet, who was always in attendance when their guard was changed or when food or medications were brought. He at least evidently took his responsibility for their security seriously. But there also seemed to be another motive for his diligence. Behind his lofty, distant manner there appeared to lurk a secret curiosity about his prisoners, a reluctant instinct to communicate which he could not quite repudiate. Dreamer sensed somehow a loneliness in the powerful ant, a subconscious dissatisfaction, which in a strange way paralleled his own questing nature and made him feel a paradoxical affinity with the other. Fleet would enter their chamber with the guards who brought food: a lowly diet of seeds and dried vegetable matter – not for them the rich plunder of meat brought in by the raiding parties – and, when the guards had left, would hesitate for a moment on the threshold as if unwilling to leave. If one of them asked him a question he would answer with a vague, reluctant air, but he would never reject it. Once or twice they were able to draw him into a brief discussion about the comparative lifestyles of their two different ant-kinds, and in this way they learnt quite a lot about the alien insects.

  One significant conversation explained a great deal about the system of the red colony, although it made uncomfortable hearing for the three captives. Snake's Tongue began it by asking, 'Why have we not seen any worker-ants of your own species?'

  Fleet replied, 'Because we do not breed worker-ants.'

  'None at all?' asked Joker, puzzled.

  'We need all our brood to increase our fighting force.'

  'But why do you need to keep increasing that?' asked Snake's Tongue. 'Why can't you keep it at a stable strength, and supply it with your own workforce?'

  'How should we feed ourselves then?' asked the red ant. 'We need to increase our forces so that we can conquer new territories and thus find new food supplies. How else can one maintain a colony?'

  Snake's Tongue hesitated, perplexed. 'Do as we do,' he replied. 'Simply maintain the colony at the strength that your surrounding territory can easily support.'

  It was Fleet's turn to be puzzled. 'You mean you never expand your colony?'

  'Why should we? The nearby habitat provides enough food in the form of seeds, fruit, carrion and insect larvae for us to feed our present population without ever having to travel more than a night's journey from the base mound. Why should we wish to go further?'

  Dreamer could sense the red ant contemplating this bizarre philosophy in the darkness. Then he said, with a hint of scorn, 'How very unambitious you must be.'

  Snake's Tongue said quietly, 'If ambition means constantly having to destroy other colonies, constantly having to enslave other species, then yes, we are unambitious.'

  'Very chivalrous, no doubt,' replied Fleet loftily, 'but how then do you ensure that you are not yourselves destroyed?'

  'Until we encountered you, we never considered there was such a danger; at any rate, not from our own kind.'

  'Well, now you have learnt differently. Perhaps it means that we are not of your kind.'

  'Do you believe that?' asked Snake's Tongue.

  The other hesitated. When he spoke, Dreamer thought he could detect a less confident note in his voice. 'Certainly our leader does. To him, all who are not of this colony are the enemy – no matter what size, species or order. You must realize that. No amount of discussion will change him.'

  'And you?' asked Snake's Tongue.

  'I follow my leader,' was the instant reply.

  'Then there is little hope for our own colony?'

  'Not unless it can find some miraculous new method of defence.'

  Snake's Tongue pondered this. 'How long will it be before you reach there?' he asked in a low voice.

  'A little while yet. We are busy at the moment conquering new territories in the sun-up direction. When we have finished there, we shall assemble the major part of the army and turn to you.' Fleet's voice became more abrupt. 'Now, I have talked enough. I must go.'

  He turned to leave the chamber, but Snake's Tongue stopped him with a last question. 'There is one thing I would like to know.'

  'What is that?'

  'When does the
conquering end? When you tire of it or when you reach the end of the world?'

  There was silence. Then Fleet answered, 'That you must ask The Spider.' And he was gone.

  There was quiet in the little chamber, broken only by the casual mutter of conversation of the guards outside and the distant rumble of activity throughout the great mound. All three ants were lost in their own individual reflections on the exchange which had just taken place. Dreamer felt once again that frightening sense of finality, of the end of hope, that he had felt as he waited on the plateau for The Spider's first appearance. Remembering further back, he recalled too that same sense of awe at the realization that pure, self-interested evil existed as a force to be reckoned with, which he had experienced on first hearing of the red ants' assault on the riverside colony.

  As usual it was Joker who broke the silence, and put their thoughts into perspective. 'Good to know one has such friendly neighbours.'

  Dreamer, as always, warmed to the mild quip. He had come to know the other well during their long hours of confinement. The bond had grown between them as they talked away the idle hours and he had revealed to Joker more of his innermost thoughts and instincts than he had done to anyone before. He had discovered a sense of relaxation and trusting confidence in the hefty soldier's utterly dependable presence, and he was coming to realize that he valued this relationship perhaps more than any other formed in his brief life.

  Meanwhile Snake's Tongue had retreated quietly to the end of the chamber furthest from the entrance. He now murmured to the other two to come close. Then, in a low voice that the guards could not overhear he said, 'We have to make an attempt at escape somehow. The colony must be warned, otherwise there is no chance for it.'

  The others considered this. 'How can we possibly escape?' whispered Joker. 'The place is swarming with red ants. Outside too. We can't outfight them; we can't outrun them. What hope is there?'

  'There is always hope if one can find it,' replied Snake's Tongue. 'I've been giving it some thought since we've been here, and I've also been doing some observing. I'm not so sure the red ants are such invulnerable fighters, at any rate in a confined space. Remember what Black Sting told us about their methods? They spray their poison rather than inject it, which is why they don't carry stings. And that's why they're more effective at long range. "Attack from the side, and get in close," Black Sting said. Well, suppose the three of us tackled the two guards within the confines of this chamber? They are built for speed over the ground, rather than manoeuvrability in a small space, like the tree-spider. We defeated that. I think we could defeat them.'

  'But then what?' asked Joker. 'How do we get out of the mound and back home again?'

  'I've been listening to the sound of the work parties,' answered Snake's Tongue. 'The main activity is at the beginning and end of the day. That's when the big groups, either of captive day workers or night workers, leave the mound or return to it. Our chamber is obviously off a minor tunnel that isn't used much, but from the sounds it seems to me that there is a junction with a much bigger tunnel just a little way along from here. Even with my damaged feeler, I can sense the work parties moving past there.'

  'Yes,' said Dreamer. 'It's about ten ant-lengths from here. The largest work parties consist of about twenty captive worker-ants and half that number of soldiers.'

  He could sense the antennae of the other two hovering curiously in his direction.

  'That's very good, Dreamer,' said Snake's Tongue. 'Those feelers of yours are useful. How far off can you detect one of the parties approaching?'

  'If it's a large one, perhaps thirty ant-lengths down the main passage. The vibration pattern is quite strong.'

  'And can you tell whether they're moving up or down the tunnel?'

  'Yes. The upwards direction is this way.' Dreamer patted the back wall of the chamber with his feeler.

  'Clever young thing, isn't he?' commented Joker. 'Can you tell us what their names are too?'

  But Dreamer was too interested in Snake's Tongue's train of thought to feel more than a momentary glow at the praise. The big ant continued.

  'That should be enough. The suggestion I have is this: that we wait until the main activity is commencing. Then, when Dreamer senses one of the large parties approaching up the main tunnel towards the outside, we deal with the guards. We slip along to the junction and hope to join the work party without anyone noticing. Then, once we're out in the open, we'll just have to see where the party goes and take our chance.'

  The other two contemplated the scheme. 'It's going to be risky trying to join the work party without any of its guards sensing us,' said Joker uncertainly.

  'I think we could do it,' said Dreamer cautiously. 'From the vibration patterns, it seems that the red ants concentrate themselves at the front and the rear of the groups with the worker-ants strung out in the middle. It should be possible to join in at the centre without them noticing, providing of course none of the workers gives us away. Also there's something else which should help us.'

  'What's that?' asked Snake's Tongue.

  'I don't think their senses are as sharp as ours. I've noticed that Fleet and the guards are never quite as sure as we are of precise movements in the dark. If one of us moves quietly it always seems to take them a moment to work out exactly where our new position is.'

  'Yes,' said Snake's Tongue. 'I've noticed that too. What about their sense of smell? Do you think that's as strong as ours?'

  'No,' replied Dreamer. 'Fleet still hasn't learnt to recognize each of us by our scent. He has to wait until we speak to know who is where. Whereas, we know instantly when it is he who has entered.'

  'Good. We must use every advantage we have,' said Snake's Tongue.

  'They can't be totally unaware,' said Joker. 'They knew about our fight with the spider.'

  'That's hardly surprising,' answered Snake's Tongue. 'We made enough noise to alert the entire forest. What is interesting though, is the way they were able to keep us observed from then onwards without us knowing. They can evidently move very skilfully when they have to. Our problem is not only going to be escaping from the mound, but getting home again without them catching up with us. I suggest that we should make our attempt to escape with one of the night work parties. Then we shall have the night to travel through for the first part of the journey, when our sharper senses will be to our advantage.'

  'Which night, leader?' asked Joker.

  'How about tonight?' said Snake's Tongue.

  There was a pause. The theoretical discussion about escape prospects had been exciting, a relief from the tedious hours of waiting. Now the immediate prospect of actually putting the plan into practice brought home the reality with sobering clarity. To Dreamer their chances seemed frighteningly slim.

  Joker was obviously thinking the same thing. 'Doesn't give us much chance to get ready,' he said.

  'We're as ready now as we'll ever be,' answered Snake's Tongue. 'All we have to do is plan how to tackle the guards. The rest we'll have to take as it comes; we can't know exactly what will happen. But the longer we wait, the less warning we shall be able to give to our colony and the more danger there is that The Spider will decide he has no more use for us.'

  And so it was decided. They held a whispered discussion about their tactics for the attack on the guards, then there was nothing to do but wait until the evening burst of activity, their suspense and nervousness growing perceptibly with every hour.

  Dreamer spent much of the time speculating about this strange species who so threatened the survival of his own kind. There was something unexplained about them, some mystery that he could not quite define. It was puzzling that they appeared so omnipotent within their domain and so utterly ruthless about extending its boundaries, yet that his own colony had only recently become aware of their existence. Was it that they had not long been established in this region? Was it that this gigantic mound was the product of only one or two brief summers' activity? There was certainly an oddly hap
hazard and temporary quality about its appearance. It did not have the solid, well-beaten and naturally overgrown look of their own ancient hillock, however huge it was. He fell to pondering about the red ants' lifestyle and breeding habits and he suddenly realized that he had heard nothing about their Queens; there had been no mention of the Royal Quarters, the brood chambers or even of the Queen of Queens herself. Surely she had some influence over the colony's lifestyle? Surely even The Spider was answerable to her authority? Yet it seemed to be a taboo subject; one that was simply not mentioned or taken account of during the normal day-to-day activity.

  It then occurred to him that he had seen or heard no sign either of any elders. At their first meeting, Fleet had shown amusement at the idea of a ruling Council, which seemed to indicate that that was not how they did things here, but even so it was odd that they had not encountered any elderly ants. The Spider himself was certainly large but he did not seem particularly long-lived. Dreamer sensed that here somewhere was an important missing element in their knowledge of the strange insects, but for the moment it was a mystery he could not solve.

  Some time towards evening Fleet returned with two soldiers, bringing the second feed of the day. As usual he hovered for a moment after the soldiers had left and Snake's Tongue was ready with an immediate comment. He prodded the small pile of seeds and greenery with his good antenna. 'We're getting tired of this vegetarian diet,' he said. 'You might at least have brought us some of that spider's meat, after we took so much trouble to kill it for you.'

  Fleet sounded amused when he replied, 'You're welcome to it. We're not fond of spider meat. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait. We left it where you hid it. If any parties go out in that direction in the near future, I'll request that they bring some back for you. But only as your entitlement for killing the spider, you understand. We don't make a practice of feeding meat to prisoners.'

  He was about to leave, when Dreamer impulsively threw out a question on the subject which had been troubling him. 'How many Queens are there in your colony?'