by Zubin Mathai
Days fell away, each an exact copy of the one before, and on each, the worker tried her hardest. She picked up leaves and rotting bugs, didn’t run to hide or talk back when others teased her, and used all her mental might (which meant no daydreams) to walk a straight line when carrying a load with her sisters.
As other workers worked through the night, our little hero often found a quiet spot to sleep peacefully, for she was exhausted from the days’ travails. On occasion, she did have dreams, and with her mind free to run and fly, it dreamt of pink petals floating, calling with a sweetness like nectar falling over her eyes and antenna. When, during one night’s dream, a petal said to the ant to ‘Come find me’, the ant woke up with a start.
She crawled out from beside her hiding place and went to look at the long line of workers churning away. The moon lit them with silver streaks, and the coolness of the air carried vibrations of their thousand-feet march right through her little body. She did not spy her friend, the soldier, at her normal post, and so the worker went towards the colony, towards the grid of flat stones.
Here, the moon was unobscured, shining down its entire face just for the tiny ant to see. She made a wish upon its tender rays, praying to see that pink petal outside of dreams once more. She waited a few hopeful moments, but there was only still air, no wind, and no flying petal.
Just then, however, the ant felt a tremendous thud and shaking. The entire grid of smooth stones quaked beneath her, and the lines of grayness between coughed up clouds of dust. What had looked like two ordinary trees in the distance, was really those pale moving trees the little one had seen before, and now they were moving right towards her.
As they neared, more shaking and thuds rebounded, and the line of workers close by tumbled — but quickly picked themselves up and resumed their march. Only the little worker was struck dumb and frozen solid, as the two giant trees got closer. The pale trees soon surrounded the ant, one on either side, and she could see a blurred shape, very high up, drifting down. The trees angled, bunching up and wrinkling as if covered in the skin of an animal, and the immense, floating shape grew larger. The worker soon saw an unfathomably large head come into view, and upon it, two giant eyes.
The eyes stared for a minute, right into the eyes of the worker. The ant thought of her friend, the soldier’s words, that something so large could probably not see things as tiny as ants, but still she took no chances, remaining frozen except an unstoppable shivering.
More movement began, and one of the giant trees — which the worker now assumed were this animal’s legs — raised up and hovered directly above her. The leg paused for a second, a dark shape smelling of rubber and large enough to block out the moon, before starting to move downwards. It sped up, forcing the air in front of it to create a pressure entrapping the ant. The ant wriggled and writhed, called out for help, but still she could not move.
Suddenly, a black blur flowed through and tackled the worker to fling her off to the side just as the leg came smashing down with the might of an earthquake. The soldier who had saved the worker, her friend, came scurrying over to check on her, lifting her to her feet and bringing her to the side and safety.
When they were at a guarded distance, they turned to stare in awe at the giant animal with trees for legs and a mountain for a head. From one of its other limbs — yet another tree extending from its torso — they could see a yellow shape moving back and forth. Soon, it began to rain. This was not an ordinary rain, and the little ant could smell it even with her lone antenna, and her friend, the soldier, could smell it too. It was raining sweetness.
The workers filing past could smell it too, and soon they all stopped, wiggling antennae in excitement. Even more workers came up from the nest and from the food lines stretching far away. A sea of ants formed around the worker and soldier, ignoring them as it continued to rain drops of sweet dew.
One of the drops landed on the soldier, and she wiped it off her body, rolled it into a ball, and held it in her mouth to savor its precious taste. A drop fell near the worker and her lone antenna touched it, and she immediately jumped back. Something was wrong with this dew. Something odd, for there was a strange odor coming from behind its sweetness.
She looked over at her friend, who was still holding a drop of nectar in her mouth, and immediately ran forward to knock it away. “Don’t eat any more of this. This is not food. This is danger!”
The soldier was shocked at her friend’s words, but took it in stride, and the two ants turned to see the carpet of sisters around them sucking up the manna. They rolled it into tiny balls, fought over it, and even lined up to carry it into the colony at the far end of the sea of flat stones.
For the next three nights, the sickly-sweet dew fell from the sky near the two moving trees, and all the ants ate it up. As the worker ran around and desperately tried to warn everyone, they ignored her and brought samples to the queen and the others deep in the colony. They even began feeding it to the youngsters and newborns, and had enough for every single last ant. For those three days, the colony celebrated, forgetting about the food in the forest, the leaves and dead bugs, and instead gathered each night under the slimming moon to wait for the drippings from heaven.
The worker and her friend, the soldier, were the only two who did not partake. When their voices had become hoarse from trying to warn, and their legs tired from running around trying to stop their sisters, all they could do was stand and watch.
And it was on the fourth day that their nightmare became true.
It started first with some of the newborns falling over and dying. Then, the youngsters started shaking. Their legs curled up and didn’t respond, and their bodies trembled violently. They begged the elders for help, but nothing could be done. Yes, it is the worst thing in an ant world, to see the next generation die off in front of the previous. Finally, the older ants began their torturous dances, as they shook and trembled, coughing up dried granules of a poison already coursed throughout their bodies. The ants in the colony came out into the waning moonlight to die, and soon the flat stones were littered with corpses. The giant soldiers were some of the last to go, and their faces were no longer stoic, as they clutched their abdomens, kicking and flailing, and then falling still.
The queen came out of the depths of the nest at last, and she could not walk in a straight line. She took a few steps and fell over, and yet with determination lifted herself up and tried to move forward. Her instinct was taking over, her aching need to move to safety and start yet another colony. She cried out for help, but all the ants around her were dead or dying, wracked with the pain of acid burning every last corner of their crumpled bodies.
The worker and soldier saw their queen and ran over to her, stepping over dead friends and sisters along the way. When they got near, the queen used the last of her strength to look up at them before falling over and wriggling in torment. Her joints and muscles began contracting, crushing her innards and cracking her once proud and shiny skin.
“Oh, my little one,” said the queen to the worker as she tried to lift up a leg to stroke her daughter’s head. She was unable to move anymore, and cried out for mercy, for the pain infesting was too much to bear.
And yet, even though wracked with this burning from the inside out, when she saw the one-eyed soldier, so healthy and standing tall above her, she summoned her last dying breath to share the poison in her body. “You,” she spat out, “you failed in your mission again. You failed once more to give your life for your queen and colony.”
And then there was silence for a moment, as the heart of this colony left the queen’s body, and the bodies of her daughters stopped their death throes, on this sea of flat stones she once thought would be a safe home for all generations.
Before the worker and soldier could react to the death of their beloved queen, before even her stinging words could sink deeper into the head of the soldier, the moment was shaken up by the two giant trees approaching once more. That animal was surveying the scene, and in
the worker’s imagination she could see it smiling. The animal was walking amongst the carcasses, hoping to see any still writhing and stamping on them to snuff out the last lights of this once proud colony.
“Come,” said the soldier, as the giant legs of the death-dealing animal approached, “we have got to go. There is nothing left for us here.”
She grabbed her friend, for she knew the little worker was frozen with terror again, and dragged her towards the edge of the sea of flat stones. This time, the soldier did not take the lines of gray between those stones, but rather the straightest line possible, then past the edge, onto the gravel and sand, and towards the sparse line of trees in the distance.
five
Lost