by Robin Hawdon
Snake's Tongue, Dreamer and Joker were of course unaware that all this was going on. Deep in the fastness of the enemy's mound, cut off from all forms of communication with the outside world, it seemed to them that none could know of their plight, nor of the fearful impending danger presented by their captors as they steadily built up their forces, and extended their boundaries. It appeared vital that they escape and spread the warning, not only to their own kind but to the world in general.
As they waited for the evening to fall and the change of work parties to commence, the tension increased moment by moment, until Dreamer found himself longing for the time to come, simply to alleviate the suspense. He went over their plan for dealing with the guards a thousand times in his mind, and at the same time his antennae were constantly alert for the slightest increase in activity outside in the passages.
Then eventually came the change he was expecting. The general tramping of feet became more frequent, the size of the groupings larger. He whispered to Snake's Tongue that the moment was approaching.
The three ants quietly took up their agreed positions: Snake's Tongue against the wall to one side of the chamber entrance, Dreamer and Joker against the opposite wall, the former nearest to the opening itself so that he could sense when the moment was right. For an interminable while they waited, as the working parties marched back and forth along the main tunnel past the end of their own passage, growing gradually in size and frequency. The two guards outside seemed quite unaware of anything happening, as they lounged and muttered between themselves. At last Dreamer, his antennae against the ground, received the signals he was waiting for. A distant tremor from some way down the main passage indicated that a large, widely spread party, comprising mainly captive worker-ants, with a small advance escort of red guards, was approaching.
Dreamer immediately gave a groan as if in pain and, calling out to the guards, moved back towards the centre of the chamber. The guards stopped their chatter and one of them entered to find out what was the matter while the other hovered in the entrance. As the first one passed him, Joker leapt at him from the side, flinging his body against the higher, longer form of the red soldier, lunging with his sting at the other's underbelly. The moment Dreamer heard Joker make his move, he too ran round and attacked from the other side. The enemy ant hissed and reared up, attempting to bring his assailants within range of his spray of poison, but with one on either side of him clinging with claws and mandibles, he could not bring the base of his abdomen to bear and he roared for his companion to assist.
The latter was already on his way to join the fray and it was now that Snake's Tongue took his, most dangerous, part in the action, for he had to tackle the second guard unaided. With that extraordinary speed of his, he hit the guard in the side of the body, sending him staggering across the chamber, and then was on him like a veritable army of ants, biting, clawing, stabbing.
The battle was short, sharp and ferocious. The red guards, though big and immensely strong, had little chance against the surprise and speed of their opponents. Both Joker and Snake's Tongue had got in that first vital jab with their stings, and the creeping effect of the poison increased the ungainliness of their opponents' blundering manoeuvres within the narrow chamber. The acrid smell of the red ants' own poison filled the air as they aimed it indiscriminately into the darkness, but the smaller ants had taken care to keep themselves well out of the direct line of fire. Again and again, Joker and Dreamer struck at the first guard and injected their poison, until he lay helpless on the floor of the chamber, violent convulsions jerking his body. Joker relinquished his grip, whispered to Dreamer to hold on to the big ant, and turned to where the scuffle of Snake's Tongue's fight was taking place.
Snake's Tongue was having a harder time of it, for his opponent was an extremely powerful beast, and having rallied after that first onslaught, was fighting back at his single opponent with a ferocity which required all the latter's speed and agility to evade. However, when Joker joined battle on the other flank, the enemy soldier found himself out-manoeuvred and it was only a matter of moments before the effect of his attackers' repeated sting-thrusts reduced him also to a passive, heaving form on the floor.
Gasping with their exertions the three smaller ants hesitated for a brief moment, listening for any signs that the stuggle had attracted further attention, but all was quiet, except for the tramp of the work party's footsteps, which by now was vibrating past the immediate end of their own small passage.
'Quickly!' whispered Snake's Tongue and he slipped into the tunnel, leaving the other two to follow. The narrow thoroughfare was empty as the three hurried the few paces along it to where it joined the main passage. Here Snake's Tongue hesitated a moment to ascertain the situation. They were fortunate: not only was the work party with which they were immediately concerned strung out in a long line on either side of the junction, but several other smaller parties and individuals were travelling in the opposite direction, so there was a considerable concourse within the passage.
The three stepped out into the jostling crowd, joining the general upward direction of the work party. No one commented. Those red ants who were around were either travelling in the opposite direction or were some way ahead or to the rear and did not notice the addition of three extra slaves to the general throng. The other captive brown ants seemed too preoccupied and generally dispirited to care about or even notice any change in their numbers and the three were able to merge in unobtrusively with heads down and feelers lowered in the prevailing submissive fashion.
As they went higher and higher the passage was joined by others, and the crowd thickened until they were part of a huge flood of activity intent upon either reaching the daylight or escaping from it. When they finally emerged into the open air they found that the dusk was well advanced, but even so the fading light dazzled their eyes after their long confinement in darkness.
They were perhaps halfway up the slope of the immense mound, but facing in another direction to the one from which they had originally approached it, looking now across the rolling limitless expanse of heathland, where not a tree broke the skyline. The air was strangely heavy and oppressive, in contrast to the fresh, windswept atmosphere which had heralded their arrival, and towering mountains of darkened cloud dominated the immense expanse of open sky in a way which the three ants from the lowland, forest-shadowed regions had never seen before. It was a spectacular and intimidating display which, to Dreamer in particular, seemed almost supernatural in its grandeur. He cast a worried look at Joker who was just behind him and the latter muttered. 'Storm coming up; could be useful,' which reassured him somewhat.
Now they were able to observe the column of ants of which they were a part. It consisted of perhaps two dozen workers, strung out at irregular intervals, with a group of half a dozen or so red soldiers at both the front and the rear of the line. The whole party was headed down a well-established run which descended over the irregular, loose-packed earth and scree of the mound's slope. Dreamer glanced back at the ants following and thought he detected the odd curious look from those nearest in the line, but they were generally too apathetic to pay much attention to the intruders in their ranks. He looked about him, taking in the rest of the activity on the hillock's flank. Work parties of various sizes were progressing backwards and forwards in similar manner, while large hunting parties consisting solely of red soldiers moved past at a faster, more confident pace. Smaller red ant groups and individuals trotted here and there on particular missions, and there was a general atmosphere of highly organized industry.
However, there was something very different about it all to the activity which took place around his own home base. It was hard to specify but Dreamer, having now been amongst the alien insects for several days, could detect a subtle undertone of tension and deep-rooted unease, which all their arrogant display of invincibility could not disguise. It stemmed, he supposed, from the strange ephemerality of the species' system of procreation, with its
inbuilt mechanism of self-destruction. He shuddered to think what would happen if they ever learned to surmount this deficiency in the way that his own kind had.
As he was pondering this an astonishing event transpired. A sudden warning hiss from Snake's Tongue, just ahead, made him look up. Coming towards them up the run, already past the advance party of guards, was a group of three red soldiers. Their leader, easily recognizable by his superb, graceful stride, was Fleet.
There was no way that the three fugitives could take evasive action. The run was only wide enough for two ants to pass at a close distance and the small party were almost upon them. All they could do was lower their heads and keep going and wait for the apocalypse to happen. Dreamer's heart sank at the sheer misfortune of such a chance encounter. But then came the miracle.
He was aware of Fleet casually scanning the party of workers as he came. He was aware of the sudden lift of the other's antennae, and the flash of recognition in his eye as it fell upon Snake's Tongue. He was aware of it passing on towards himself and Joker, and of the tiny, involuntary hesitation in the red soldier's gait. And then he was past, and his two companions with him, and no further sign did he make.
Dreamer was to remember that moment often in the days to come. Had Fleet reacted in the expected way, the pattern of future events would have been a very different one. Dreamer was never quite able to explain or understand why the red ant had behaved as he did. He only knew that the incident belonged to the great subliminal stratum of life and experience of which he was recently becoming more and more aware.
Whatever the reason, they were still unapprehended, no hue and cry sounded at their backs and with every step they took further down the hillside their sense of relief and astonishment increased, until at last they were travelling through the jungle of grasses over the level ground itself and were able to turn their minds to the next immediate problem.
A hold-up occurred at a junction of paths ahead of them and for a moment the party came to a brief halt to let another group pass by in front. Snake's Tongue seized the opportunity to have a quick, whispered consultation with the other two.
'We're going in the wrong direction,' he muttered. 'And I don't see how to break away without being spotted. Our best hope is to wait until we're well away from the mound and then take our chances individually, when each of us sees a moment. It will mean breaking up, but it gives a better chance of at least one of us getting away.'
'Can't we meet up again somewhere?' whispered Joker, voicing Dreamer's unspoken plea.
'Aim for the spot where we killed the spider,' replied Snake's Tongue. 'Fleet said it was still there, so there will be food. Also it didn't sound, from what he said, as if they have regular parties out in that direction at the moment. So, provided we keep ahead of any search parties, we should have a chance.'
'Depending on how long he keeps quiet about our escape,' said Joker. 'He saw us, you know.'
'I know,' replied Snake's Tongue. 'That I don't understand.' He glanced over his shoulder. The group was moving off again. 'There's a storm coming,' he whispered hurriedly. 'Take advantage of it. And we'll try to meet at the spider place around dawn. But don't wait longer than sun-up: one of us must get home to warn them!'
'Stop talking! Move on there!' The harsh command rang out behind them. Snake's Tongue turned instantly and moved off again and Dreamer followed, knowing they could probably not communicate again and feeling suddenly very alone and vulnerable.
The light was fading fast which gave him confidence. The galloping storm clouds were hastening the retreat of daylight and an ominous wind was beginning to moan and rustle among the grasses around them. Dreamer wondered vaguely what action the work parties took when the weather broke. Most insects take refuge when it rains, either scurrying for their homes or, if they are too far away, hiding under leaves or in crannies amongst the vegetation. A direct hit from a raindrop can be an uncomfortable experience for a creature the size of an ant. However this time, Dreamer thought, it was a risk the three of them would probably have to run if they were going to take advantage of the elements to make their escape.
He was scarcely aware of Snake's Tongue's going. The party had travelled well beyond the much-trampled regions in the immediate vicinity of the mound and was progressing along a single narrow trail that appeared to be running almost parallel with the distant shadow of the forest's edge. Then, just as the first few warning drops of rain were beginning to spatter around them, the path took a sudden turn inwards towards the trees and it was here, on the bend where they were momentarily out of sight of the guards at both ends of the column, that Snake's Tongue vanished. One moment he was there, running just ahead of Dreamer, the next, he was gone, only the faintest rustle in the vegetation at the side to indicate his passing.
Dreamer felt a momentary twinge of panic at the disappearance of his leader. He glanced back quickly to see if Joker was still there and was relieved to find the reassuring bulk of the cheerful soldier still behind him.
'That was neat,' whispered the other. 'Our turn next. Good luck, young Dreamer.'
Dreamer nodded and whispered back, 'See you for a feast of spider meat.' Then he concentrated on looking ahead for a suitable place to break away.
The chance did not come for some time. The path was running dead straight now and the grasses on either side had thinned out providing little immediate cover. However, they now seemed to be heading straight towards the trees, and the pace had speeded up, motivated by the general desire to reach cover before the rain increased. Dreamer could not tell whereabouts in the forest they were going to arrive, for the mound was well out of sight behind them now, but his general sense of direction told him that the original trail by which they had approached the enemy's base was a considerable distance away to one side.
The storm broke while they were still some way off from the tree-line. A sudden flash of lightning momentarily illuminated the darkening gloom around them, throwing the gigantic shapes of the trees ahead into stark relief against the blackened sky. A moment later came the threatening rumble of the thunder as the heavens growled their anger at the world.
It is a general superstition amongst ants that thunderstorms are a sign of the Lord of the Stars' fury at some particularly abominable deed somewhere in his domain and that at such a time his wrath can fall on all who have incurred his displeasure. Being the essentially just power that he is, however, such occasions are also held to provide opportunities for the deserving. As the work party ran at full speed for the cover of the trees, with the rain splashing at an ever-increasing rate about them, Dreamer prayed that he was of the latter category and looked about urgently for his chance to escape.
Joker, however, apparently beat him to it. As the party reached the darkness under the first of the trees and hurried to find shelter amongst the roots Dreamer glanced back and, with a mixture of fear and elation, realized that he was alone. The other had seen his chance during the dash and vanished.
It was now that another of those surprising revelations of psychology that were constantly educating Dreamer in the unpredictable ways of the world occurred. He found himself cowering with three or four other captive ants in a small unprotected space in the lee of an exposed tree root. The rain was now falling heavily, as they could hear by the distant heavy swish of its impact upon the leaves and branches above their heads, but immediately around them was a temporary quiet as the canopy held off the deluge for a few moments. The rest of the party were also taking shelter in nearby places and Dreamer, his antennae alert as they now took over the main responsibility for informing him in the near-darkness, could tell that one of the two groups of red ants was close by to one side. As he searched for clues as to the whereabouts of the other, he felt a gentle feeler-tap on his back. He turned to find there the ant who had been next in line, immediately behind himself and Joker. He had not taken much notice of any of the other captives before, but now, as the lightning flashed across the heavens once again, he saw a gentl
e, inquisitive little face peering at him from the shadows.
'That's the way you should go,' whispered the stranger, pointing back over his shoulder with a feeler. 'The advance guard are over there, in the other direction.'
Dreamer hesitated, taken aback, half suspicious. Then the other whispered again: 'That's the way your friend went. There's a trail in that direction, if you can find it. I should wait till the rain breaks through overhead and then run for it.'
Dreamer felt a warming flood of gratitude at this unexpected help-offering and he mumbled his thanks. The other waved them aside and said, 'Go when there's another thunder crash. That will cover any sound you make. Good luck. I wish I had your courage.'
The chance came almost immediately. The peal of thunder which followed that same streak of lightning coincided with a renewed gust of wind and a torrent of waterdrops breaking through from the branches above them, and for a few moments the sound and fury about them was numbing in its magnitude. Dreamer felt the push of the other ant's feelers behind him and then he was out in the midst of the frenzy, running for his life.
The next few moments again had the quality of one of his dreams. As he ran, blindly, frantically, expecting at any moment to hear the sound of shouts and pursuing feet behind him, Nature indulged in one of her most spectacular displays – solely it seemed for his benefit – as the storm passed directly overhead. The thunder roared its exhortation at his fleeing figure, the lightning lit up the huge gesticulating shapes of the trees around him, the wind hissed and howled from the branches over his head and the rain hurled its great parcels of water in his wake as if veritably to wash him on his way. Twice he was hit directly by one of the drops, which flattened him to the ground, left him soaked and gasping with shock; but then he was up and running again, the icy mantle of water streaming off his body, the sodden ground clinging to his scurrying feet. Only vaguely was he conscious of his direction, and he fleetingly wondered whether Joker was anywhere near and how he was faring in this holocaust, but he had no time to worry about it: his own survival was his sole, frantic preoccupation.