by Cixin Liu
Dodomi, President of the Laurasian Republic, was quick to respond. ‘But, as you well know, Your Majesty, Gondwana has nearly 400 million more dinosaurs than Laurasia—’
‘And as you well know, Mr President, Laurasia’s population growth rate is three percentage points higher than that of Gondwana,’ replied Dadaeus.
‘Mother Nature will simply not allow you insatiable beasts to multiply unchecked. Will it take a disaster to bring you to your senses?’ said Kachika, one antenna pointing at Dodomi, the other at Dadaeus.
‘A disaster, huh?’ Dodomi guffawed. ‘Dinosaurkind has survived for tens of millions of years. There are no disasters we haven’t already seen!’
‘Exactly. We’ll worry about that when it happens,’ Dadaeus said, gesticulating airily with his claws. ‘It’s dinosaur nature to let things run their course. Our kind takes life as it comes and fears nothing.’
‘Not even all-out nuclear war? When that final moment of ultimate destruction arrives, I cannot see what route will be left open to you.’
‘Well, little bug, on this point we are agreed.’ Dadaeus nodded. ‘We don’t like nuclear weapons either, but Laurasia has deployed so many that we have no choice. If they destroy their weapons, we’ll follow suit.’
‘Ha ha. That’ll be the day!’ Dodomi wagged a pudgy digit at Dadaeus and sniggered. ‘You surely can’t believe we’ll fall for that old chestnut, can you?’
‘It goes without saying that you Laurasians should be the first to destroy your nuclear weapons, since you invented them.’
‘But it was the Gondwanan Empire that made the first intercontinental missiles—’
Kachika cut them off with a wave of her antennae. ‘What does it matter who did what centuries ago? We need to face the reality of what’s happening here and now.’
‘What’s happening here and now is that Laurasia is entirely dependent on its nuclear weapons. Without them, it wouldn’t stand a chance,’ said Dadaeus. ‘Do you remember the Battle of Vella Flat? The first emperor of Gondwana led 2.5 million Tyrannosauruses against 5 million Tarbosauruses in Antarctica and put them to rout. The evidence is still there at the South Pole for all to see, commemorated with a magnificent mound of Laurasian skeletons!’
‘In light of which, Your Majesty will then certainly remember the Second Devastation of Boulder City,’ Dodomi fired back. ‘400,000 pterodactyls of the Laurasian Airforce flew low over Gondwana’s capital and dropped more than a million incendiary bombs. By the time the Laurasian Army entered the city, the Gondwanans had been cooked to perfection!’
‘My point exactly! You Laurasians are cowards, always carrying out sneak attacks with aerial and long-range weapons but never having the courage to fight face to face! Hmph. You really are vile, pitiful worms.’
‘Well then, Your Majesty, why don’t we give everyone here the chance to see for themselves which one of us is the pitiful worm?’ And with that, Dodomi leapt onto the great roundtable, brandishing his razor-sharp claws as he flew at Dadaeus.
The Gondwanan emperor immediately jumped onto the table to meet him. The other dinosaurs did not intervene, only cheered excitedly from the sidelines. Blows were regularly exchanged at international meetings in the dinosaur world. The ants, too, had become inured to this sort of spectacle. Being wise to the possible consequences, they hurriedly scurried beneath the sturdy crystal platter to avoid being flattened beneath the dinosaurs’ feet.
Observed through the prism of the crystal platter, the brawling dinosaurs looked like spinning mountains, and the surface of the roundtable shuddered violently. Dadaeus had the advantage in terms of weight and strength, but Dodomi was more agile.
‘Stop fighting! What’s wrong with you?’ the ants shouted from beneath the platter, their voices amplified by the translation system.
The two dinosaurs paused and, breathing heavily, retreated from the tabletop and returned to their seats. They were both covered in long, jagged scratches. They stared hatefully at each other.
‘Right,’ said the secretary-general, ‘let’s move on to the next item on the agenda.’
‘No!’ Kachika said firmly. ‘There will be no further items discussed at this summit. Given that this vital matter concerning the very existence of our world remains unresolved, all other topics are rendered meaningless.’
‘But, Madam Supreme Consul, every Dinosaur–Ant Summit of the last few decades has included a discussion about environmental pollution and the nuclear threat, and nothing has ever come of it. It has become routine, nothing but a ritual, a waste of everyone’s time and patience.’
‘But this time is different. Please believe me when I say that the most important issue facing civilisation on Earth will be resolved at this meeting.’
‘If you are so certain, please continue.’
Kachika was silent for a moment. When the hubbub in the hall had subsided, she said solemnly, ‘I will now read Declaration Number 149 by the Ant Federation. “In order that civilisation on Earth may continue, the Ant Federation makes the following demands on the Gondwanan Empire and the Laurasian Republic.
‘“One: halt all reproduction for the next ten years to effect a net reduction in the dinosaur population. After ten years, the birth rate must be kept lower than the death rate to ensure that the population continues to decline, and it must remain low for a century.
‘“Two: shut down one-third of all heavy-industry enterprises immediately, and over the next ten years shut down another third as the population declines. Environmental pollution must eventually be reduced to a level that Earth’s biosphere can withstand.
‘“Three: immediately commence total denuclearisation. The destruction of nuclear weapons must be conducted under the supervision of the Ant Federation, with all nuclear warheads launched into space using intercontinental missiles.”’
There was a smatter of laughter from the dinosaurs. Dodomi pointed a claw at the crystal platter. ‘You ants have issued this declaration dozens of times before. Haven’t you tired of it yet? Kachika, you would smother the great dinosaur civilisation. You can’t seriously imagine we’ll accept these absurd demands?’
Kachika dipped her antennae in affirmation. ‘We know, of course, that the dinosaurs will not accept these demands.’
‘Very well,’ said the secretary-general, rattling the bony plates on his back, ‘I think we can move on to the next item. Something more realistic.’
‘Please wait a moment. There is more to our declaration,’ said Kachika. She drew herself up to her full, frankly inconsiderable height. ‘If the aforementioned demands are not met, the Ant Federation will act to ensure the continuation of civilisation on Earth.’
The dinosaurs were stunned into silence, agog to hear what plan of action this minuscule critter could possibly have in mind. Their humongous jaws hung slack and malodorous.
‘If the dinosaur world does not immediately comply with the demands set forth in this declaration, all 38 billion ants working in the Gondwanan Empire and the Laurasian Republic will go on strike.’
Thin clouds had formed in the domed sky, floating like fine gauze, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow on the vast hall floor. For a long, long while, not a word was spoken.
Finally, Dodomi responded. ‘You are surely joking, Supreme Consul Kachika?’ he said.
‘This declaration was jointly drafted by all 1,145 member states of the Ant Federation. Our resolve is unshakeable.’
‘Supreme Consul, I trust that you and your fellow ants understand’ – Dadaeus paused to rub his left eye, which appeared to have been scratched in the fight with Dodomi – ‘that the dinosaur–ant alliance has lasted for three millennia. It is the cornerstone of civilisation on Earth. It is true that our two worlds have fought each other during our long history together, but our alliance has endured nonetheless.’
‘When the entire planet’s biosphere is at stake, the Ant Federation is left with no choice.’
‘Don’t play games. Remember the lesson of t
he First Dinosaur–Ant War!’ said Dodomi. ‘If you ants go on strike, the industrial output of the dinosaur world will grind to a halt, and many other fields, including the medical sector, will also be hard hit. We could be looking at the total economic collapse of not only the dinosaur world but the Ant Federation too. This course of action will affect the whole planet in ways we cannot predict.’
‘The First Dinosaur–Ant War was about religious differences, but this time we ants are withdrawing from the alliance to save civilisation on Earth. Given the extreme importance of what is at stake here, the Ant Federation is willing to brave the consequences.’
Dadaeus slammed his claws against the table. ‘We’ve been spoiling these bitsy bugs!’
‘It is the dinosaurs who are spoilt,’ said Kachika. ‘If the ant world had put the brakes on sooner, the dinosaur world would not have spiralled so far out of control nor become this mad and arrogant.’
The hall fell quiet once more, but this time the air was charged with a frighteningly explosive energy. Again, Dodomi was the first to break the silence.
Glancing round the room, he said rather cryptically, ‘Hmm, I think I require a moment alone with the ants.’
He heaved himself up onto the roundtable, crouched down in front of the crystal platter, prised it off the table, picked it up and carried the ants away, out of earshot of the other dinosaurs.
He withdrew a compact translator device from his jacket pocket and addressed Kachika directly.
‘Madam Supreme Consul, the Ant Federation’s declaration is not entirely unreasonable. Everyone can see that civilisation on Earth is facing a crisis. The Laurasian Republic is keen to solve this crisis too, only we haven’t found the right moment. But it occurs to me now that there’s an obvious shortcut we could take…’
He paused, partly to check that Kachika’s antennae were twitching in his direction, and partly for dramatic effect.
‘You ants could go on strike’ – Dodomi bared the full set of his terrifyingly sharp fangs in a ghoulish grin – ‘but only in the Gondwanan Empire. When the Gondwanan economy collapses and social chaos ensues, the Laurasian Republic will launch an all-out offensive and crush the Gondwanans in one fell swoop. They will be vulnerable and we will have no need to resort to nuclear war. We will then occupy Gondwana and shut down every last one of their industrial plants. As for the population problem, the war will wipe out at least a third of the dinosaurs in Gondwana, and the survivors will not be permitted to procreate for a century.’
He exhaled forcefully, undeniably pleased with himself. ‘Now, does that not meet the Federation’s demands?’
‘No, Mr President,’ said Kachika from the centre of the crystal platter. The other ant officials around her shook their heads. ‘That will not change the nature of the dinosaur world, and sooner or later we will be back to where we are now. A world war on the scale you envision will certainly have unforeseen consequences. More importantly, the Ant Federation has always extended the same treatment to all dinosaurs, regardless of ethnicity or nationality. In all parts of the dinosaur world we perform the same work for the same compensation, and we never involve ourselves in your politics or wars. This is a principle the ant world has honoured since ancient times, and it is essential to safeguarding the inviolable independence of the Ant Federation.’
The secretary-general chose this moment to shout across at them from the roundtable. ‘Mr President,’ he boomed, ‘please return the platter so we can continue the meeting.’
Dodomi shook his head and sighed. ‘Foolish bugs! You’re missing out on a chance to make history.’ But he did as he was bid and returned to the roundtable.
As soon as Dodomi had replaced the platter in its designated spot, Emperor Dadaeus reached across the table and snatched it up. ‘My apologies, everyone, but I must also now speak with the bugs in private.’
In a rerun of what Dodomi had just done, Dadaeus carried off the crystal platter, pulled out his own translator and addressed Kachika. ‘Right then, Supreme Consul Teeny, I can guess what that chump said to you. But I’m telling you: do not trust him. Not on your incy-wincy life. Everyone knows what a cunning, conniving conspirator he is. It’s those Laurasians who need to be wiped out.’
He swivelled his head round and snapped his fearsome jaws in the direction of his Laurasian rival. The platter vibrated alarmingly.
‘We Gondwanans still have some notion of how to peacefully coexist with nature, and our behaviour is constrained by our religious faith. But Laurasian dinosaurs are incorrigible dinocentrists – they’re true techno-worshippers from their horns to their tails. Their belief in the supremacy of machines, industry and nuclear weapons is unshakeable, far more so than ours. Those bastards will never change their ways! Listen, bugs, you should go on strike in Laurasia. Or, better yet, wreak widespread havoc. The Gondwanan Empire will launch an all-out strike and wipe that garbage nation off the face of the Earth! Little bugs, this is your big chance to do a heroic deed for civilisation on Earth.’
Kachika, however, was having none of it. She simply reiterated to the Gondwanan emperor what she’d earlier said to the president of Laurasia.
Dadaeus was livid. ‘What gives you poxy parasites the right to look down on our great dinosaur civilisation?’ he growled. And with a furious flick of his wrist he sent the platter hurtling to the floor.
The members of the ant delegation fluttered to the ground a few seconds after the platter landed.
‘Know that it is we who rule the Earth, not you. You’re nothing more than living specks of dust!’
Kachika stood on the floor of the hall and stared up at the Gondwanan emperor towering above her, his head way beyond her line of sight. ‘Your Majesty, in times like these, judging the strength of a civilisation by the size of its individuals is the height of naivety. I suggest you read up on the history of the First Dinosaur–Ant War.’
But the translator device was too far away and Dadaeus did not hear her. ‘If the ants dare to go through with this strike,’ he roared, ‘they will rue the day. There will be comeback as never before. No mercy!’ Then he stalked off.
The representatives from the Gondwanan Empire and the Republic of Laurasia rose from the roundtable and filed out. The hefty thud of their footsteps made the ground judder, stirring up the dust from the floor and the members of the ant delegation along with it. But the dinosaurs were soon gone, disappeared into the distance, leaving the ants to face the long trek across the smooth, shiny marble surface. Its glossy patina reflected the white light of the suns that studded the domed sky and seemed to stretch into infinity, just like the unknowable future in Kachika’s mind.
10
The Strike
In the capital of the Gondwanan Empire, in the Great Blue Hall of the imperial palace, Emperor Dadaeus lay on a sofa, one claw covering his left eye, emitting the occasional groan of pain. Several dinosaurs stood around him: Interior Minister Babat, Defence Minister Field Marshal Lologa, Science Minister Professor Niniken, and Health Minister Dr Vivek.
Rising from his seat with a slight bow, Dr Vivek addressed the emperor. ‘Your Majesty, the eye that Dodomi injured has become inflamed and requires immediate attention, but we currently cannot find any ant doctors to perform ophthalmic surgery. Our only option is to keep the inflammation under control with antibiotics. If this continues, however, you are at risk of losing your sight in that eye.’
‘I could skin Dodomi,’ said the emperor through gritted teeth. ‘Is there not a single hospital in the entire country with an ant doctor still at work?’
Vivek lowered his head. ‘I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. There are many patients waiting in vain for urgent surgical procedures. The situation is causing a great deal of unrest.’
‘And I presume that’s not the only reason our dinosaurs are panicking,’ said the emperor gloomily, turning to the interior minister.
Babat gave a brief nod. ‘That’s correct, Your Majesty. At present, two-thirds of our factories have st
opped production, and several cities have lost power. The situation in the Laurasian Republic is no better.’
‘The dinosaur-operated machines and production lines have also stopped?’
‘Yes, Your Majesty. In manufacturing sectors such as the automobile industry it is impossible to assemble the large dinosaur-made components into usable finished products without small precision parts, so production has had to be halted.’ Babat rocked back and forward nervously on his scaly heels before continuing with the bad news. ‘In other sectors like the chemical and energy industries, the ants’ strike had little impact at first, but because the ants are responsible for maintenance, whenever a piece of equipment fails, there is now nothing we can do, so more and more factories are becoming paralysed.’
The emperor stamped with rage. ‘You useless idiot! Did I not order you to have our dinosaur workforce undergo emergency training in delicate antwork, ready for this exact bastard scenario?’
‘Your Majesty, what you requested is, ah, well… impossible.’
‘Nothing is impossible for the great Gondwanan Empire! Over our long and illustrious history, Gondwanans have weathered crises much greater than this. How many bloody battles have we won against all the odds? How many continent-spanning forest fires have we extinguished? How many volcanic eruptions in the wake of tectonic shifts have we survived?’
‘But, sir, this is different—’
‘Different how? If we put our minds to it, dinosaur hands can be dexterous too. I will not have those piddling insects blackmail us and threaten our very existence.’
‘Allow me to, um, demonstrate where the difficulty lies.’ The interior minister tentatively opened his claws and placed two red cables on the sofa. ‘So, er, when it comes to the maintenance of machinery, one of the most rudimentary requirements is the ability to connect two wires – wires such as these two cables, Your Majesty. May I ask you, sir, to attempt that task now?’