by Robin Hawdon
'I heard your Voice advising you. Was it of help?'
Dreamer was curious. 'You heard?'
'Yes,' said the other.
'Did you recognize the Voice?' asked Dreamer eagerly.
'Oh yes.'
'Whose was it? Was it the Lord of the Stars?'
Still One gazed back with amusement. 'The only voice I heard was yours,' he said.
There was silence for a long while on the branch.
Then gradually Dreamer became aware that there was considerable activity going on beneath him on the ground, much scurrying hither and thither and a general feeling of urgency. 'What is happening?' he asked.
'Messengers have come through, saying that the red ants are approaching,' answered Still One. 'They will probably be here by sun-up.'
Dreamer came instantly alert. 'I must go down,' he said. 'Are you coming?'
'I shall follow shortly,' was the reply. 'You go ahead, Quick Feelers. You will be needed.'
Dreamer touched the smaller ant's feelers briefly with his own and an unspoken message passed between them as their eyes met. Then he turned, threaded his way through the grazing aphid-bugs and descended the tree.
Amongst the grasses on the ground, in the dim light of the approaching dawn, all was alertness and tension. The piles of twigs and debris had already been heaved into place across the trails and the front line of defence, some way back from the actual forest edge, was ready with soldiers and workers side by side behind the barricades. Dreamer strode along it checking that all was well, that every ant knew his task. In the distance he could see Black Sting's lofty form, with several officers in attendance, moving briskly from position to position, inspecting, questioning, encouraging.
Dreamer did not go to join them immediately, however. First, out of sheer curiosity, he went across the clearing towards the stream and the gorse clump, where the strange red light gleamed between the grass stems and a peculiar wisp of grey spiralled up towards the fading stars like some concentrated stream of the dawn mist itself.
As he approached he noticed that the air appeared to be getting miraculously warmer, until eventually the heat was almost oppressive in its force. The choking scent too was increasing in strength, blotting out all others with its pungency. He finally broke out of the grasses altogether to find himself in a wide, clear space at the gorse's side, where the grass stems had been trampled and flattened into the dust and in the centre of which loomed the wide, glowing mound of red light, perhaps half the height and twice the width of their own hillock. Around its circumference were scattered groups of curious ants like himself, staring with wonderment into the heart of the living light, yet held back from approaching closely by fear and the intense, all-enveloping heat.
Dreamer noticed a group of the older workerants nearby, with Five-Legs, Never-Rest and Wind-Blow amongst them and he went to join them.
'What do you make of it, Five Legs?' he asked as he came up.
The old ant turned towards him. 'I have never seen the like. It is extraordinary,' he replied. 'Even the sun cannot give such warmth as this. It is so powerful that one can only approach so far. If one went any closer I'm sure one would perish.' He gazed back at the light. 'And yet the strange thing is that it does not seem to threaten us, provided we keep our distance.'
There was a sudden flare of whiter light and a crackle from the centre of the mound.
'There goes another one!' cried Wind-Blow excitedly. 'That is an oak twig – look! It is vanishing into the light, just like the others.'
'The others?' asked Dreamer, staring at the white flare.
'The light appears to consume things,' said Five Legs. 'We noticed that the Giant Two-Legs fed it with things from out of the woods – huge branches, dead bushes and leaves and grasses from the ground – and it consumed them all. And the more he put into the light, the fiercer it grew. But now he is not here to feed it, it is dying.'
Dreamer studied the surroundings of the glowing mound and indeed it seemed that for many ant-lengths all around the ground was bare: All the grass and the plants and even the humus from the previous year had been devoured by the raging beast of light and nothing was left but an odd grey-black dust, lying deathlike about the living centre. He noticed a tall stem of sedge-grass standing nearby, withered and browned by the heat, leaning in towards it and swaying, as if drawn towards the supernatural power despite itself. He shuddered to think what such a force would do to a living body that came within its grasp.
Then he remembered his dream. What was it the Voice had said? 'Think. Are they all truly your enemies? Think.' He thought, staring into the mysterious golden glow, but nothing came to him. He turned towards Five Legs.
'What will you do when the red ants come, old one?' he asked.
Five Legs stared over towards the forest edge. 'Oh, we shall be here,' he said. 'We may not be much good for fighting, but we can help to hold up the barricades, swell the numbers, encourage the young ones.' He looked at Dreamer, his eyes challenging. 'Don't you worry, young Quick Feelers, we can be of use.'
Dreamer nodded, admiring the old ant's fighting spirit. Then he looked once more at the great vapour-emitting mound of light, turned his back on its heat and went to join Black Sting.
The red ants came just as the sun was clearing the far trees on the other side of the stream and the usual morning breeze had sprung up, blowing across the clearing from the direction of the water and rustling the undergrowth out of which they appeared. The advance lookouts had come rushing back some time before, warning of their approach, so all were ready and silent, the sickening sense of apprehension mounting inside them.
None, however, except perhaps Dreamer, could have anticipated the fearful effect of that first appearance of the enemy army. One moment there was nothing except for a faint vibration and rustle amongst the undergrowth and the hint of a strange, thick scent in the air, the next there were rank upon rank of huge, long-legged, russet-bodied insects, materialized as if by magic out of the trees and standing silent, motionless, staring back at the defenders with scarcely the flicker of an antenna to indicate that they were alive.
There was a murmur and an uneasy stirring amongst the smaller ants, gathered behind their barricades. A long moment passed as the two armies faced each other and then there came a movement and a breaking of ranks in the centre of the first line of the red ants. Another gasp of incredulity rippled through the defenders as a stupendous figure loomed behind the line, broke through the gap and stood before it, breath hissing, huge head swaying from side to side, eyes gleaming with malevolent triumph as it surveyed the scene. At the monster's side, dwarfed by the towering body, stood Fleet and several other senior red soldiers. It was evident that, from where they stood, they were unaware of the slumbering mound of light through the grasses on their flank, for none looked in that direction, and none seemed to observe the strange scent in the air.
Having seen what he wished to see, The Spider lifted his head and roared, 'Who speaks for you puny creatures?'
Almost opposite him, in the centre of the defenders' line of barricades, Dreamer and Still One stood with Black Sting and his small band of officers. Dreamer looked at his leader and Black Sting nodded imperceptibly. He touched both the smaller ants' antennae briefly with his own, then they passed him and squeezed through a narrow gap in the barrier of twigs and grass and stood looking through the grass stems towards the line of red ants ahead.
Dreamer looked at the other. 'Here we go, Story Teller,' he said softly.
'I am with you, my friend,' answered Still One.
Dreamer led the way through the grass towards the huge figure. He came to within three ordinary ant-lengths and stopped. He was standing on the very edge of The Spider's shadow which spread over the ground before him. Dreamer looked towards Fleet – their eyes met briefly – then the red ant turned his away and stared ahead without expression. Dreamer looked back at The Spider, aware of Still One's presence at his side.
The enemy leader no
dded with a flicker of ironical amusement, the weird bronchial hiss of his breathing grating harshly upon the hearing organs of the two ants facing him.
'So, you managed to escape back to your colony after all,' he growled. 'You were indeed lucky.'
Dreamer said nothing, merely waited, trying to appear as calm and confident as possible.
'Not that it makes any difference in the end,' went on The Spider. 'For here we are, as I promised.'
'Here you are,' replied Dreamer.
The Spider lowered his head aggressively. 'However, I have no wish to see you again. Where is your leader? Who is your spokesman? I wish to speak with someone of importance.'
Dreamer half turned and indicated Still One at his side with a feeler. 'This is our spokesman,' he said. 'You may speak with him.'
The Spider stared at the insignificant, fragile figure with incredulity. 'This?' he rasped. 'This pathetic thing is your leader?'
'Our leader is back there with the soldiers,' replied Dreamer. 'This is the one he wishes you to talk with. His name is Still One.'
The Spider stared again at Still One's immobile form, the incomprehension still showing in his eyes. 'Why?' he roared. 'Why should I speak with this feeble creature? Is your leader afraid to meet me?'
'Black Sting is afraid of nothing on this earth,' said Dreamer, 'as you will discover if we have to fight you. However, he is hoping that will not be necessary. He believes that is the foolish way. That is why he has sent Still One to talk with you. We call him the Story Teller. He has a wisdom far beyond his size.'
'Has he indeed?' rasped The Spider derisively. 'The Story Teller, eh? Well, I can tell you now there are no stories that can save you from what I have in mind. Only miracles.' He glowered down at Still One from his great height. 'Do you have any miracles that you can perform, friend Teller-of-Stories?'
'No,' answered Still One simply.
'Then come forward and tell me what you have to tell. And you'd better make it short because I get impatient with time-wasters.'
Still One stepped forward from Dreamer's side, right into the shadow of the great beast before him. He looked up at the immense head and waited, in that powerful, quiescent way of his. A long moment passed, the other growing more and more impatient as he looked into the all-seeing eyes.
Finally The Spider roared, 'Well?'
'What is it you want from us?' asked Still One quietly.
The malicious gleam in The Spider's eyes hardened. 'What is it I want?' he repeated. 'I want everything.'
'What do you mean by everything?'
'What do you think I mean?' bellowed The Spider angrily. 'Everything means everything!'
Still One's voice rose not a fraction. 'If you want food we can give it. If you want space, we can give it. If you want knowledge, we can give it. If you want friendship, we can give it.' He paused. The Spider was silent, staring down at him, a vague puzzlement on his face. 'If you want our freedom, our souls, our lives – those we will not give. Those you must take.'
The Spider growled deep in his throat. 'And why should I not take them?'
'You may of course take them. You are more powerful in strength than we are. But the cost will be terrible.'
The Spider snorted derisively. 'The cost? A few dead soldiers. What of that? They are prepared to die. They are trained for death.'
'How strange,' replied Still One. 'Ours are trained for life.' He paused and glanced along the line of red soldiers. 'That is what I mean by the cost.'
The Spider glowered at him with incomprehension. 'I do not understand you,' he said.
'Have you looked at our home?' answered Still One. He turned his head and gazed around the clearing, his antennae raised. 'Have you ever seen such a beautiful place? Can you smell the sweetness in its air? Can you sense the industry and the energy that has gone into creating it? Can you feel the contentment of the generations of ants who have lived here?' He looked back at The Spider. 'All this we would share with you, if you wished it. All this will vanish, leaving only barrenness and waste, if you abuse us.'
The Spider nodded his huge head, his confidence returned. 'It is indeed a pleasant spot,' he said. 'That is why we want it for ourselves. It is not the place itself we wish to destroy, friend Teller-of-Stories, only the vermin who inhabit it.' He lowered his head until it was on a level with Still One's, like an oak tree bending to a dandelion. 'It is no use. You cannot snare me with clever morals as your friend Tongue-of-the-Snake tried to do. I do not give way to talkers.'
'To what do you give way?' asked Still One softly.
The Spider lifted his head again and shouted at the heavens: 'To nothing! I give way to nothing, except to eventual death! That is the only way to prove that one is alive.'
There was a hush across the whole clearing. Even the breeze seemed stilled for a moment. Then Still One said, 'Will you hear one of my stories then?'
The Spider looked at him with incredulity on his face. Then he broke into a great shaking bellow of amusement. 'Very well, let me hear one of these remarkable stories. It will be the last you will ever tell, so make it a good one. Make it a story to end all stories!'
Silence. The Story Teller stood still, tranquil as the moon. Then he spoke.
'Once there lived a huge beast in the forest. Larger than all the other creatures, larger than the four-legged ones, larger even than the Giant Two-Legs. So large that the trees seemed as blades of grass to him and the rocks as mere pebbles on the ground. And this creature looked about him and thought to himself, "There is no other creature upon the earth greater than I. I am the Lord of all." And any creature who dared to disagree with him, or who hindered him, or who crossed him in any way at all, he crushed to death with a single blow of his huge claws, or a single bite of his immense jaws.
'But because he was so vast and so powerful, there were none whom he could call friends. All the other beasts were too afraid of him, or too small even to speak with him. So the giant was extremely lonely and grew more and more angry in his loneliness. And the angrier he became, the more ferocious he became; and the more ferocious he became, the more the other beasts feared him, and so the more lonely still he became, until he was a towering pillar of anger. And he went on the rampage through the forest, killing every living thing in his fury, until there was nothing left alive. Then he sat down upon the ground, utterly sick in his heart, so alone was he in his loneliness.
'But then, as he sat there, he noticed upon a leaf a single tiny aphid-bug, that was so small he had missed it in his rampage of death. So he picked the leaf and held it up to his face and roared at the aphid-bug, "So, you have escaped my wrath! Now you and I are the only creatures alive in the forest. What do you say to that?"
'And the aphid-bug replied, "There is nothing to say to that."
'And the giant said to the aphid-bug, "Am I not huge? Am I not splendid? Am I not the most powerful creature you have ever seen?"
'And the aphid-bug replied, "Indeed you are."
'And the giant said, "Do you not wish that you were me?"
'And the aphid-bug replied, "No, certainly not. I would much rather be me."
'Then the giant was amazed and demanded to know why. So the aphid-bug said, "Because I have known peace, which you have never known. I have seen the beauty of the pimpernel flower, which is too small for you to notice. I have felt the warmth of the sun, which you have been too hot in your fury to feel. I have enjoyed the company of friends, who have had nothing to fear from me. I have known the pleasure of sharing my honey-dew, which you have always been in too much hurry to taste. . . . Because I have known happiness in my smallness and you have known only anger in your greatness."
'And at these words the giant was so furious that, without thinking, he hurled the leaf with the aphid-bug upon it up, up into the sky, over the trees and out of the world itself.
'And then, his anger cooled, he looked about him and realized that instead of being lord of everything, he was now suddenly lord of nothing. For there was noth
ing left of which to be the lord.'
Still One stood looking up at the lowering head above him and for a moment time was stilled. Dreamer could sense The Spider fighting a terrible battle within himself. Then the huge ant gave a deafening bellow of rage and he knew that he had lost.
Before anyone could make a move The Spider had grasped Still One about the thorax, easily encircling the slender body with his mandibles. He lifted him high into the air, snapped him in two like a dry straw, and with a toss of the head flung the broken body far away from him, over Dreamer's antennae towards the defending lines. It fell amongst the brittle grasses and lay there like some shrivelled autumn leaf, brown, dust-covered, already a part of the earth from which it had sprung.
Dreamer did not move, so great was the shock. He stood transfixed, staring at the crumpled object, his senses numbed, scarcely aware even of the universal sigh of horror that had gone up from the ranks of his own kind. Then, slowly reality returned, and awareness. He turned his head and looked back at The Spider. The latter was regarding him with an anger such as he had never seen in his eyes, an anger that challenged him to show a flicker of reproach. But Dreamer felt no fear. Now nothing mattered any more. If such an act could take place upon the earth, then it would be no sacrifice to leave it.
The words of one of Still One's stories came into his mind, as if spoken with the Story Teller's own gentle inflections: 'Because he was content in his heart he was not afraid of death, for he had found the meaning of life.' And he did not feel sadness for the murdered ant, or fear for himself, or regret for his colony. He felt only a great calm. He looked up at The Spider, then across at Fleet, who was staring at the corpse with a dazed expression on his face, then round at the immobile ranks of the red ants. Finally he looked back at their leader and said quietly. 'So, you have made the story come true.'
Without waiting for the reaction, he turned and started back towards his own lines. As he went he heard a snort and a movement behind, but with utter coolness he half turned and almost matter-of-factly evaded The Spider's clumsy lunge towards him. He danced back out of range and then turned again and sped back, leaving the monster raging and hissing in his rear.