by Zubin Mathai
The pair ran from the scene of death and out into the dry and dusty land beyond the familiar. They climbed over pebbles, which to them were boulders, and crawled through tangles of dried grass. Motion all around, from exploring breezes and unseen animals, kept the little worker close to the soldier. The rising heat of the day excited curious twirls of dust to greet the travelers, but neither ant was in the mood for company.
The soldier kept quiet as they moved, but she did look back on occasion, angling her head so that both her seeing and blind side could gaze to where the colony she belonged to once thrived. When the worker slowed, hoping her friend would take the lead, the soldier slowed too, not wishing to be in front.
“Where are we to go?” asked the worker, but the soldier did not answer. The worker tried again, “Where are we to live?”
At one point on their trek, they came across a shadowed hole in the ground. The worker stopped at its edge and peered down, trying to make out a shape which seemed to be at bottom. There was a silky web covering the hole, and the worker let her eyes blur so that a daydream could take over. She pictured jumping on the web like a trampoline, bouncing higher and higher, but the daydream went quickly, replaced by rhw images of all her dead sisters that she could not shake.
“You don’t want to stand too close to that hole,” said the soldier — the first thing she had said in an hour — as she less-than-delicately pulled her friend back from the hole.
“Why?”
“Because there is danger within, danger at the bottom.”
“What sort of danger? An animal?” asked the worker, inching closer and staring again into the darkness. She saw faint movement at the bottom, a lot of legs uncurling, and jumped back. She felt the vibrations from the hole through her body, and they were ones she had never felt before. In fact, this entire world was too new for her. The grasses were bigger than she imagined, the bushes eclipsed the sun when close, and there were no well-worn ant-paths to guide her.
“Whatever is in that hole, I’m sure you could protect me,” she said, in a half-believing tone.
The soldier stepped aside and motioned for the worker to take the lead, for she was still unwilling to continue unless she was in the rear. When the worker moved ahead, the soldier whispered faintly, uncaring if her friend heard her or not. “We are just two ants without a colony. I can’t protect you, or anyone. Evidence is back there scattered across that sea of flat stones.”
They marched for an hour more, as the sun got to its high point, stole any moisture from their skin, and made the dirt they trekked across painfully hot to the touch. The worker tried to lead, tried to walk in a direction she hoped the soldier really wanted them to go, but with her one antenna, it was difficult. She’d walk for minutes in what she thought was a straight line, but then would look up and find herself behind her friend, having walked in a circle.
Being the leader carried too much responsibility. One way, through a row of curled-over branches looked too scary. Another, over a jumble of tumbled pebbles, looks too impassable. As they walked and got nowhere, the worker became increasingly afraid. Whenever a blade of grass rustled, or whenever a distant animal sounded out, she stopped and trembled. Things were always so big to an ant, and only the grains of sand underneath were small enough to comfort. The worker paused and looked back from where they came, stroking her head with her one antenna to try and calm herself. She missed her sisters and their teasing.
“Without a plan we will get nowhere,” said the soldier when they had stopped to rest. That was all she said, no advice or encouragement, and the little worker flopped to the ground dejected, kicking away a splinter of grass as she did.
The soldier knew she was being difficult, but she didn’t care. She could not stop thinking of the queen’s last burning words to her. She could not stop thinking of her failed duty. She reached down with an antenna and rubbed the spot where her left eye used to be, and then rubbed her right eye, and wished it were gone too.
The worker saw a tiny leaf near where she was lying, and ran over to pick it up above her head. She felt comforted by carrying something, and she resumed the march while holding tightly to the leaf. A shadow passing overhead soon made her freeze. Was it a bird? Was it something coming to eat them? She dropped the leaf and ran under the cover of a nearby bush to peek out. At first all she saw was the haloed and scorching sun baring down. She scanned the skies, felt the cool wrap of the shadow again, and came out to see the pink petal, high above. It was twirling and spinning, showing its dark and light sides, at play with the breezes which kept it aloft, and whispering once more to its friend on the ground, “Come find me. There is safety here. Come home.”
The worker looked over to her friend, the soldier, to see if she was seeing this too, but the soldier had her head down, almost dipping into the dust beneath, and seemed oblivious to everything.
“What if we find a new home?” said the worker, still transfixed by the dancing petal far above, as it eventually moved off behind some trees to the east.
The soldier winced, using one of her legs to rub her abdomen, before letting the words of her friend sink in. She had heard tales from some of the more traveled and experienced soldiers, of wayward ants taken in by new colonies. She was going to speak up, offer her opinion on her friend’s suggestion, but another stab of pain came from her abdomen and she winced once more.
She knew, and her friend didn’t, that on that first day, back when the drops of poison first rained down and her friend had knocked a drop of it out of her mouth, that the tiniest splinter had crossed her jaws and settled in her stomach. She could feel the poison in her, and she welcomed it, hoping that perhaps it would bring justice to her, bring justice for failing at the only role she was born to do.
The poison working its way through the insides of the soldier made her bitter, and she was ready to speak up and shoot down the plan of her friend. Just then, however, a commotion caught her attention. She felt a wave of vibration reach her legs and move up her abdomen, and immediately spun so her one eye could scan the surroundings. Instinctively, she grabbed the little worker and moved her behind to protect her.
A wall of dust was kicked up and something ran in and stopped right in front of the two ants. The worker moved over, hiding fully under her giant friend, and the soldier spread its jaws and raised its front legs, readying for a fight.
“I finally caught up to you two!” shot out a squeak of a voice.
When the dust finally settled, in front of the ants was another ant, even tinier than the worker, almost whitish with little black streaks running along its body. It had two perfectly-formed antennae and two perfect dots for eyes.
The mini newcomer jumped up and down in excitement, and each hop scared the worker and tensed up the soldier, at least until the newcomer ran forward and hugged the legs of the soldier. When she went to hug the worker, the worker jumped back with a trembling yelp.
“Who are you?” asked the soldier, putting one leg on the head of the newcomer and gently pushing her back to a respectful distance.
“I am your sister!” yelled the tiny white ant. “They brought me into the world just a few days ago, and then went to sleep.”
The worker and soldier both looked at each other, confused.
“Yes,” continued the newcomer, “they were all asleep. I explored the nest and they were all sleeping in the tunnels. I came outside and they were sleeping all over those flat stones. Even mother was sleeping there. But then I saw you two running off and decided to follow you. Luckily, you two kept going in circles so I could catch up!”
The worker was finally brave enough to come out from behind her protecting friend, and stepped up to the newcomer to look her over. Seeing the perfectly formed tiny ant, she angled her head to hide her missing antenna. “You are our sister then,” she said, patting a tiny head, then looking back at the soldier, hoping the big ant was as happy as she. “Now there are three of us!”
Still feeling unimpressed, and still the stabbing p
ain all along her insides, the soldier said nothing. Instead she turned to survey the surroundings, wondering where this lost and doomed trio might go to next before the inevitable happens. She inspected the angle of the sun on the grass, felt for signs of moisture in the air, and even tapped the ground to see if any vibrations returned. No direction seemed to hold any hope over the others.
“Oh my, look at those! You have tiny wings!”
The soldier spun with a flurry of kicked up dust to see the worker lifting up a translucent wing from the side of the newcomer. The soldier brought her one eye close to inspect the wing, the way it’s thinness created a rainbow, and then stared for the first time at the face of this little white ant before her.
“You… you are a princess.”
“I am?” said the newcomer, standing up as tall as she could and giggling at the attention she was now getting from these giant sisters.
Suddenly the pain in the soldier’s abdomen faded away, receding to her heart where it could be ignored behind each of its beats. The soldier rubbed her good eye, and immediately began thinking. Her role was returning, her instincts were re-forming. Her mission, the only mission she was born for, to protect the queen of her colony, was pounding out from her brain to erase previous shades of doubt.
“My future queen,” said the soldier, kneeling on its legs so it could get closer to the tiny newcomer, “I am your servant. I am here to protect you. I am here to bring you to a new, safe place so that you may start a fresh colony.”
“No!” shouted the worker, and the intensity of her yell startled both the soldier and princess. They spun to look at the worker.
“We can’t just find a new, empty space for her. We have to find a new home, someplace safe, away from all these unknown parts. We have to find a new colony of sisters for all of us!”
The soldier patted the little worker on the head. With the pain from the poison in her abdomen subsided, the worker was her best friend again, and she tried explaining to her what they must do. The worker would have none of it and argued back, for she so wanted to follow the whispers of the wind-born petal, whispers which spoke of safety, which spoke of a home calling like the sweetest nectar.
Tiring of the arguing, the princess stood back and took it all in, letting the newfound and happy knowledge that her role was for some reason more important than these two larger ants. She counted a few seconds, thinking she will speak up dramatically only when the others will have calmed down or paused their conversation. Finally, unable to hold it in anymore, she piped up with a squeak.
“If I am a princess, then I am the leader!”
The soldier and worker stopped their arguing to look the princess, as she stood there, barely bigger than the grains of sand beneath her, and as her tiny wings flapped to catch the light and surround her with a robed shimmer.
“Since this ant here,” said the princess, pointing to the worker, “is closer to my size than you over there, I think we are going to take her suggestion. We are going to go look for a new home for all of us.”
six
Help