by Cixin Liu
‘Your Majesty, the first stage of the operation entails removing the dead and infected tissue from your eyeball and administering an injection,’ Kachika explained. ‘We will then repair the wound with the latest therapeutic agent – living tissue cultivated through bioengineering. It will completely heal your eyeball, leaving your vision and the appearance of your eye unaffected.’
Two hours later, the operation was done. Kachika and the ant medical team departed.
Interior Minister Babat and Health Minister Dr Vivek entered the emperor’s chamber as soon as the ants had gone. They were followed by several dinosaurs pushing a large, complicated-looking machine. The health minister explained. ‘Your Majesty, this is a high-precision three-dimensional scanner.’
‘What do you plan to do with it?’ asked Dadaeus, his left eye swathed in bandages, his right eye narrowed in suspicion.
‘For Your Majesty’s safety, we need to perform a full scan of your head,’ the interior minister said solemnly.
‘Is this really necessary?’
‘It’s best to be cautious when dealing with those devious little insects.’
The minister invited Dadaeus to step up onto the machine’s small platform. Once he was in position, a thin beam of light began passing slowly over his head. It was a lengthy procedure. ‘You’re being ridiculously paranoid,’ Dadaeus said irritably. ‘The ants wouldn’t dare lay a feeler on me. If they were found out, the imperial army would demolish all of their cities within three days. The ants may be devious, but they are also the most rational of insects. They’re like computers: logic and precision are everything to them; there’s no room for the sort of emotion that might spur them into trying to get even.’
The scan revealed no abnormalities in Dadaeus’s skull. Meanwhile, a report came in confirming that ants were pouring back into dinosaur cities. Normalcy was quickly being restored.
‘I’m still not convinced, Your Majesty. I know what the ants are like,’ the interior minister muttered to the emperor in a low voice.
Dadaeus smiled at him benignly. ‘Your vigilance is commendable, and you should remain watchful, but take it from me, old chap, we have bested them!’
The health minister would not be diverted. ‘From now on,’ he said, ‘all high-ranking officials, leading scientists and key personnel must undergo regular scans like this. With Your Majesty’s approval, of course,’ he added hastily.
‘Very well, you have my approval. But I still think you’re being unduly anxious.’
Unbeknown to Dadaeus, however, on the previous day, twenty ants had lain hidden in the imperial infirmary. When night fell, they had infiltrated the infirmary’s six scanners and destroyed a particular microchip in each of them – microchips that were too small for the dinosaurs to see. After the damage was done, the scanners operated normally but with a 20 per cent loss of accuracy. It was this reduction in accuracy that caused the scanner to miss something in Dadaeus’s skull – a tiny object, just one-tenth of the size of a grain of rice, covertly planted by the surgical team on the emperor’s cerebral artery. The tiny object was a timed mine-grain. 1,000 years earlier, in the First Dinosaur–Ant War, ant soldiers had bitten through the same artery in the brain of Major General Ixta (he of the charming ‘pissing on your toy sandpit of a city’ quote) just before he haemorrhaged to death on the battlefield outside the Ivory Citadel.
The mine-grain had been set to detonate in 660 hours. In those days, Earth rotated faster than it does today, and there were only twenty-two hours in a day, which meant that in exactly one month, the mine-grain in the emperor’s brain would explode.
13
The Final War
‘The facts are clear: either the ants eliminate the dinosaurs or both species perish together,’ Supreme Consul Kachika declared, addressing the senate of the Ant Federation from the speaker’s podium.
‘I agree with the Supreme Consul,’ said Senator Birubi, waving her antennae from her seat. ‘If current trends continue, one of two fates awaits Earth’s biosphere. It will either be fatally poisoned by pollution from the dinosaurs’ industries or it will be obliterated in a nuclear war between the great dinosaur powers of Gondwana and Laurasia.’
The other ant senators responded with feverish agreement.
‘Yes, it’s time to make a decision!’
‘Exterminate the dinosaurs and save civilisation!’
‘We must act now! Without delay!’
‘Will everyone please calm down!’ Professor Joya, chief scientist of the Ant Federation, waggled her antennae to quell the uproar. When some semblance of order had returned to the room, she continued. ‘Remember that the symbiotic relationship between ants and dinosaurs has lasted for more than two millennia. Our alliance is the cornerstone of civilisation on Earth. If this alliance disintegrates and the dinosaurs are destroyed, can ant civilisation really continue unsupported?’ She tried to engage the attention of the senators sitting closest to her, but not one of them would look directly at her. ‘The benefits dinosaurs derive from us ants are well documented and understood. But we must not underestimate what we receive in return. Yes, that includes basic material necessities. But there is more, much more, though it is intangible and hard to quantify. Dinosaur ideas and scientific knowledge are crucial to ant civilisation, and we would be foolhardy to ignore that.’
‘Professor, I have given this problem a great deal of consideration,’ said Kachika. ‘In the early days of the dinosaur–ant alliance, the dinosaurs’ ideas and knowledge were indeed essential to ant society. They were the building blocks of our civilisation. But we have since spent two millennia absorbing dinosaur learning and accumulating knowhow. Ant thought is no longer as simplistic and mechanical as it once was. We, too, are capable of scientific thought, of technological design and innovation. In fact, in many fields, such as micro-machining and bio-computing, we are ahead of the dinosaurs. Without them, our technology will continue to progress regardless. We no longer need to tap them for ideas.’
‘No, no…’ Professor Joya flicked her antennae forcefully. ‘Supreme Consul Kachika, you have confused technology with science. It’s true that ants make outstanding engineers, but we will never be scientists. The physiology of our brains is such that we will never possess those two essential dinosaur traits: curiosity and imagination.’
Senator Birubi shook her head in disagreement. ‘Curiosity and imagination? What nonsense, Professor. You surely can’t believe those are enviable traits? That’s precisely what makes the dinosaurs such neurotic, moody, unpredictable creatures. They fritter away their time lost in fantasies and daydreams.’
‘But, Senator, that unpredictability and those fantasies are what lie behind their creativity. It’s what enables them to conjure and pursue theories exploring the most profound laws of the universe, and that is the basis of all scientific progress. If abstract theorising were to cease, technological innovation would be like a pool of water without a source – it would dry up.’
‘All right, all right.’ Kachika was getting increasingly impatient. ‘Now is not the time for dull academic discussion, Professor. What the ant world is facing here is an existential dilemma: will we destroy the dinosaurs or perish alongside them?’
Joya made no answer.
‘You academics are all talk and no action,’ Birubi sneered. ‘Always prattling on about theory but totally hopeless when asked to solve an actual practical problem.’ She turned to Kachika. ‘Madam Supreme Consul, does that mean federal high command already has a detailed plan in place?’
Kachika nodded. ‘Please allow Field Marshal Jolie to explain.’
Field Marshal Jolie, who had commanded the ant troops at the Second Battle of the Ivory Citadel several days earlier, approached the podium. ‘I would like to show everyone something,’ she began. ‘Something we invented on our own, developed without recourse to our dinosaur teachers.’
At the field marshal’s signal, two ants brought forward a pair of thin white strips resembling scr
aps of paper. ‘The weapons you see here have evolved from antkind’s oldest, most traditional weapon, the mine-grain. They’re the latest model. The Federation’s military engineers developed them for use in this final war.’
She waved her antennae and four more ants came forward, carrying two short lengths of wire, the kind most commonly used in the dinosaurs’ machinery. One wire was red, the other green. The ants set the wires on a frame, then wound the two white strips tightly around the middle of each wire, like pieces of white adhesive tape. Something miraculous now occurred: the two white strips began to change colour, taking on the hue of the wire they were wrapped around, one turning red, the other green. Within moments they were all but indistinguishable.
‘These are chameleon mine-grains. Once they’re fixed in place, it’s impossible for dinosaurs to detect them.’
A couple of minutes later, the mine-grains exploded with two sharp cracks, neatly severing the two wires.
‘When the time comes, the Federation will deploy an army of 100 million ants. One division of this army has already gone back to work in the dinosaur world; the other division is infiltrating the dinosaur world as we speak. This army of millions will affix 200 million chameleon mine-grains to the wiring of the dinosaurs’ machines. We have called this campaign “Operation Disconnect”.’
‘Wow, a truly magnificent plan!’ Senator Birubi exclaimed in admiration. The other senators fluttered their antennae in sincere and vigorous approval.
‘We have also initiated another campaign, to be conducted in parallel, which I am confident you will find to be equally magnificent,’ Jolie continued. ‘The Federation will deploy another army of 20 million ants to penetrate the skulls of 5 million dinosaurs and affix mine-grains to their cerebral arteries. These 5 million dinosaurs comprise the elite echelon of the billions of dinosaurs on Earth. They include, among others, their national leadership, scientists, and key technicians and operators. Once these dinosaurs have been eliminated, dinosaur society will be without a brain. We have therefore dubbed this campaign “Operation Decapitate”.’
‘This plan seems more complicated than the first,’ said Birubi. ‘As far as I know, all key personnel in dinosaur society are routinely subjected to high-precision three-dimensional scans. The Gondwanan Empire was the first to adopt this practice, and the Laurasian Republic quickly followed suit. In the Gondwanan Empire, even Emperor Dadaeus himself regularly undergoes such examinations.’
‘The first mine-grain of Operation Decapitate has already been planted,’ said Supreme Consul Kachika with a smug expression on her shiny black face. ‘It is currently lying in wait in Dadaeus’s brain, and it was put there by the medical team I led. The emperor has undergone a series of examinations since then, yet that mine-grain has remained safely stuck to his cerebral artery.’
‘You mean we’ve developed a new model of mine-grain that cannot be detected by high-precision three-dimensional scanning?’ Professor Joya asked.
Kachika shook her head. ‘We tried, but all our efforts failed. As you know, those scanners are one of the most revolutionary inventions of recent years, a shining example of what ant–dinosaur collaboration can achieve. A high-precision three-dimensional scanner can locate and identify the slightest abnormality in a dinosaur’s brain. Of course, mine-grains installed in other parts of a dinosaur’s body are not easily detected. But to kill a dinosaur with a single mine-grain – or at least to cause it to lose consciousness and the ability to think – can only be done by deploying the mine on the cerebral artery. The dinosaurs are well aware of this, so they only scan their brains.’
Professor Joya pondered this for a long while and then flapped her antennae, confused. ‘Forgive me, Supreme Consul, I don’t see how that mine-grain can escape detection. I was the ant in charge of the scanner project, so I know just how powerful those instruments are.’
It was now Field Marshal Jolie’s turn to look exceedingly pleased with herself. ‘My dear Professor, you always overthink things. We simply sent a detachment of troops to infiltrate the imperial infirmary and sabotage all six of its scanners. Destroying a single microchip reduced the scanners’ accuracy by 20 per cent, preventing them from detecting the mine-grain.’
‘But aren’t you planning to mine the skulls of 5 million dinosaurs? That will never…’ Joya gasped as the realisation hit. ‘You can’t possibly be thinking of sabotaging every scanner in the dinosaur world?’
‘Indeed we are! Compared to operations Disconnect and Decapitate, it’s an easy task. Remember that the dinosaur world has a mere 400,000 such machines at present. An army of 5 million ants should be quite sufficient to deal with them.’
‘That’s an insane plan,’ said the chief scientist, shocked.
‘The most brilliant part of the plan is that the attacks will happen simultaneously,’ interjected Kachika, choosing to interpret the professor’s exclamation as praise. ‘The 200 million mine-grains in the dinosaurs’ machinery and the 5 million mine-grains in their brains will all explode at exactly the same moment. And I mean exactly. There will be no time-lag between explosions – not so much as a second between them! This will ensure that no section of the dinosaur world will be able to receive assistance or reinforcements from any other section.’
Supreme Consul Kachika surveyed the senators massed before her. There was not a twitch or a quiver among them. Every single pair of antennae was frozen in astonishment and pride. It was an impressive sight; the sort of spontaneous homogeneity that would make the Ant Federation great again. She continued.
‘The first effect of these coordinated attacks will be a complete breakdown in the dinosaurs’ extensive information network. Shortly thereafter, their major industries and transport systems will also grind to a halt. Because this will be happening in every corner of the dinosaur world, they will have no way of bringing these systems back online in the short term. And with 5 million of their key personnel eliminated, dinosaur society will go into total shock. It will sink swiftly, like a ship with its hull ripped apart in the middle of the ocean.’
The assembled senators were still rapt. Kachika paused briefly to savour the moment.
‘As we know to our cost, dinosaur cities indulge in staggering levels of consumption. According to our computer simulations, once the information, industrial and transportation systems that supply the dinosaur cities have collapsed, in less than a month two-thirds of dinosaurs in urban centres will have died from starvation or dehydration. The rest of the dinosaur population will scatter into the countryside. Under sustained assault from our forces, and ravaged by hunger and disease, less than a third of the survivors will last the year. Those who do will have regressed to the low-technology society of the pre-industrial era, and they will pose no threat to the ant world. And then, finally, we will be the rightful rulers of Earth.’
Birubi could barely contain her excitement. ‘Madam Supreme Consul, can you tell us when this great moment will occur?’
‘All of the mine-grains have been set to detonate at midnight one month from now.’
At this, the ants immediately started cheering. They were unusually loud and exuberant.
Professor Joya, however, did not share their excitement. Far from it. She swished and waggled her feelers desperately, trying to quiet the assembled masses, but the cheering did not subside. It was only by shouting that she forced everyone to calm down and pay attention.
‘Enough! Have you all gone mad?’ she yelled. ‘The dinosaur world is a vast and extremely complex system. If that system suffers a sudden collapse, there will be consequences we cannot predict.’
‘Professor,’ Kachika replied, ‘other than the destruction of the dinosaur world and the final victory of the Ant Federation on Earth, can you enumerate for us the other consequences?’
‘I told you – they are difficult to predict.’
‘Here we go again,’ Senator Birubi said. ‘Joya the egghead strikes again. We are tired of this shtick of yours,’ she said.
&n
bsp; The other senators grumbled in agreement. The chief scientist’s killjoy attitude was spoiling the party.
Field Marshal Jolie scurried over to Professor Joya and patted her with her front leg. The field marshal was an unemotional ant, one of the few who had not cheered with everyone else.
‘Professor,’ she said sympathetically, ‘I understand your concerns. In fact, I share some of them. But, as a realist, I don’t think the Ant Federation has any other choice. Scholars like you can offer us no better alternative. As to the terrible consequences you spoke of, I can see why you might be nervous about the dinosaurs’ nuclear arsenals, for example. They are capable of wiping out all life on Earth. But there’s no need to worry. It’s true that the nuclear-weapons systems are controlled entirely by dinosaurs, and ants are only permitted to perform routine maintenance work under close scrutiny. But infiltrating those systems will be a cakewalk for our special forces. We will deploy more than twice the number of mine-grains in them than in any of the other systems. When the appointed time comes, they will be crippled. Not a single warhead will explode.’
Professor Joya sighed. ‘Field Marshal, it’s far more complicated than that. The crucial question is this: do we really understand the dinosaur world?’
This comment stunned all of the ants into silence for a moment, even Supreme Consul Kachika. Then she eyeballed Professor Joya and voiced what the others were thinking. ‘Professor, there are ants in every corner of the dinosaur world, and it has been that way for 3,000 years! How can you ask such a foolish question?’
Joya slowly shook her antennae. ‘We should not forget that dinosaurs and ants are two very different species. We inhabit disparate worlds. Intuition tells me that the dinosaur world holds great secrets that we ants know nothing about.’
‘If you can’t be specific, you might as well drop the subject,’ Birubi snapped.