by Roman, Mark
Slimy green organisms
Suddenly, things were not looking so good for the tiny little schizzo-plankton. However, just then, evolution stepped in to lend a helping hand. As the tiny creatures became more and more cramped in their rapidly shrinking pools, due to all the sucking, lapping, slurping and syphoning activity they were attracting, they started to coalesce and develop into multi-celled organisms. At first, of course, this had no effect on their predicament; they were devoured just as regularly as before, although now they tasted a bit lumpier.
But, the more of this clumping that occurred, the more the pools were able to start defending themselves. And, indeed, very soon they started to fight back.
Some pools blocked up the suction tubes of the sucking creatures – a strategy which caused the creatures to eventually starve to death. Others pulled the creatures into the pool to drown. Yet others emitted toxins and poisoned their eaters, while others still, evolved the cunning ploy of simply getting up and running away. The fight was well and truly on. No longer were the pools defenceless.
Some pools went the whole hog and adopted a combination of several strategies. For example, when a hungry syphon rat came along and dipped its suction tube into the pool, the pool would first release powerful toxins into the tube. Then it would grab tightly hold of the tube and block it up, preventing the rat from spitting the poisons out. And finally, it would get up and run away. In this way, the helpless, dying syphon rat would be dragged to his death behind the fleeing pool.
Food
These defensive strategies were all very well but, to survive, the slimy green pools had, themselves, to eat. Some pools did just that. They ate themselves.
Others solved the hunger problem in a less drastic and extreme manner; they fed on the very creatures that were trying so hard to eat them. They developed a taste for anything that moved. From the tall, majestic hopping-snake, to the lazy white bipedal ant. The latter creature, due to its extreme laziness was, even then, on the brink of extinction.
Some pools couldn’t develop a taste for any of these things. They ate neither syphon rats, suction plants, lapping dogs, slurping storks, hopping snakes, lazy white bipedal ants, nor other pools. These were the pools that starved to death.
Slimy green blobs
Unfortunately, the above solution to the hunger problem proved to be a temporary one. The creatures that the pools had started feasting on soon took to avoiding the slimy green pools altogether. For their food they went back to killing and eating one another. The pools found themselves sitting and waiting for days on end without so much as a hopping-snake hopping by, or a lazy white bipedal ant ambling along.
Some sort of action was needed, and it wasn’t long before the slimy green pools took it. Already adept at walking, they quickly mastered the art of climbing trees. (It should be noted that, at this stage in their evolution, due to their versatile musculature, they already more closely resembled slimy green blobs than slimy green pools. Some parts, admittedly, were still very fluid and tended to drip off, but the main body was definitely very blob-like.)
Anyway, once up a tree, they would wait in ambush for a passing animal, leaping out of the tree when one came along. It was a bit of a messy hunting technique, but quite an effective one. The only drawback was the long climb back up the tree afterwards.
As an aside, it is interesting to note that this new hunting technique effectively saved the, now-very-rare, lazy white bipedal ant from total extinction. Not only were the ants difficult to see from the top of a tree, but attacking them was now hardly worth the effort.
Further evolution
Of course, leaping out of trees at passing prey was all very well while it lasted. But it did not last very long. Not very long at all. It took hardly any time for their prey to start avoiding going under trees.
So the slimy green blobs were back to square one. To square zero, even. Because, in the meantime, the syphon rats had evolved the ability to climb trees and had started coming after them again. What was worse, they had also evolved a set of long sharp claws and a mouthful of equally long and equally sharp teeth.
The slimy green blobs were powerless to defend themselves against these creatures and all they could do was to run and hide. They hid in caves, in forests and even underground. They hid for a long time. For thousands of years, in fact, until the syphon rats evolved a taste for other creatures.
And so, when they re-emerged, they were very, very hungry. Thousands of years, with nothing to eat other than fruit, dead things and bat-droppings, had depleted their strength considerably. What they needed now was a source of healthy nourishment. What they had instead, though, was intelligence. Which was something of a surprise. Unwittingly, during their thousands of years in hiding, they had been living principally off the fruit of the Brain Plant – a highly intelligent plant that had developed language, conscious thought and introspection. The plant’s brains were in its fruit (not a very bright survival strategy, as it happens). As a by-product of eating the brain fruit, the slimy green blobs acquired intelligence. The problem now was what to do with it.
Benjamin
It wasn’t immediately obvious to the Mamms – for now, surely, they could be called that – what their newly acquired intelligence was good for. (In the brain fruit, intelligence was required for carrying out a particularly complex reproductive strategy, for which the Mamms had no need). Many Mamms grappled with this problem, but only one came up with an answer. His name was Benjamin, and he was destined to become a legend and the inspiration for a number of religious movements. Only he realized the true value of intelligence.
So he called a meeting: The Meeting – as it came to be known in the history, folklore and legend of the Mamms. It was to be a big meeting attended by as many Mamms as could come. He fixed it for a time that all Mamms would know and recognize: the total eclipse of the Source by the Drain (the former being the star at the heart of their planetary system and the latter being the moon that orbited Ground).
And so it came to pass. As the time of the eclipse neared, all the millions of Mamms who had heard of The Meeting turned up at the arranged spot. This arranged spot came later to be known as The Arranged Spot.
In the middle of The Arranged Spot was a very tall tree. A very tall tree indeed. Benjamin climbed right to the top of this tree, and, as the Drain crept across the face of the Source, he prepared to address the assembled throng.
And it was, indeed, quite a throng. So many Mamms had turned up that most were out of sight over the horizon. None of these got to see Benjamin at all. But then, even those Mamms within sight of the tree, didn’t get to see him, either, given the height of the tree and the pitch darkness during totality.
Funny thing was, no one heard a word he said, either. Because of the height of the tree and because of the weakness of Benjamin’s voice, all his words of wisdom, if indeed he spoke any, were completely lost. All in all, it was a bit of a disaster.
Still, every Mamm who was present sensed the importance of the occasion and cheered wildly long before Benjamin had actually finished his epic speech. Rumour had it that it was a brilliant speech. Benjamin certainly thought so.
Which was a pity. For, when taking his third bow, in the darkness of the total eclipse, he missed his footing and fell the several hundred feet from the top of the tree to the ground. He died instantly.
The legend
Benjamin’s death came as a terrible shock, but his memory lived on. He became a legend overnight. Or rather, as soon as the eclipse had cleared.
He became a hero. His name came to symbolize the ideal Mamm. The perfect Mamm. The Mamm of bravery, courage, intelligence, social conscience, and so on. The Mamm of just about everything, in fact, except night vision and sure-footedness.
Did he fall...?
However, not all Mamms revered Benjamin in this way. Some considered him over-rated. Some suggested that he hadn’t actually said anything of importance at The Meeting. After all, no one had heard him,
so who was to know what he had said? It might have been complete rubbish.
Others went even further in their scepticism. They suggested that Benjamin did not, and never had, existed. They argued that no one had actually seen him at The Meeting, and no one had actually heard him, so what evidence was there that anyone called Benjamin had ever given a speech during the total eclipse of the Source?
There was no answer to these criticisms. Even Benjamin’s most loyal supporters had no actual proof of his existence. No trace of Benjamin’s body was ever found. Which was hardly surprising, considering the height from which he had fallen, if indeed he had fallen, but not very helpful all the same.
In place of the truth, came legends. In place of evidence came beliefs. In place of certainty came faith. It came to be said that The Meeting was itself a legend. As was the Great Speech. And the Great Fall. These things, if they had ever happened at all, had happened so far in the past, that no Mamm could actually recall any of the events or how much truth there was in them.
And the rest is history...
APPENDIX II: MAMM HISTORY
Whether or not The Meeting actually occurred, it certainly left a mark on all subsequent Mamm evolution, thought and history. Indeed its first impact was to usher in The Period of Deep Thinking; a time when a lot of Mamms did a lot of thinking.
The Period was started by a Mamm called Alistair who, if you manage to track him down now, will confirm with a heavy look and a long-suffering sigh that it really did happen. Indeed, it was largely Alistair that it happened to.
His idea was that the Mamms’ newfound intelligence should be applied to their current food crisis. He figured that if he got enough minds working on the problem, someone, somewhere, would come up with a solution. So he announced that he would listen to any suggestions that anyone came up with and then decide on the best course of action to save their species.
The very next day, there was a queue of Mamms outside the hollow in the ground where he slept. The queue stretched all the way to the horizon. Alistair gave a little smile of astonishment and then rubbed his hands in anticipation of a quick solution to their predicament. Little did he realize...
He stepped forward and greeted the Mamm at the head of the queue. The Mamm was called Cecil and he had brought a strange, round object with him.
“Hello, what’s this?” Alistair asked cheerily, looking at the unfamiliar object before him.
“It’s a wheel,” said Cecil, proudly.
“A wheel, eh?” said Alistair inspecting it, first this side, then that. “And what does this wheel of yours do?”
“It rolls down hills,” Cecil replied.
“Rolls down hills,” echoed Alistair, looking at the wheel a second time.
“That’s right. And on flat bits as well, if you push it.”
“I see. Does it do anything else?” asked Alistair, wondering whether he was missing something.
“No, not really. That’s what it does best.” He nodded and smiled at Alistair. “Rolls down hills.”
“I see,” said Alistair thoughtfully. “Er, how might this help solve our present food shortage?”
Cecil paled. “Well, er, it might...” he started defensively.
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Alistair quickly, trying not to sound too discouraging. “I think it’s really good. Really good. It’s just that...” He paused, wondering how to put it tactfully. “Well, you see, we have a grave global food crisis on one hand and, er, this ‘wheel’ of yours on the other.” He stood scratching his head. “I’m trying to see a connection. How we might use one to help with the other.”
Cecil nodded also.
“Any ideas?” asked Alistair.
“Not really,” admitted Cecil.
“Okay, well why don’t you go away and think about it?”
“Alright.”
And Cecil left, rolling his wheel.
“Next!” said Alistair and the next Mamm from the queue stepped forward.
The next Mamm’s suggestion was more pertinent. His name was Nathan and he wanted to make a case for cannibalism.
“Next!” said Alistair.
Next was Bertram, who had invented juggling.
“Next!” said Alistair. And so it went on.
During the first day Alistair saw several more newly invented wheels, some impressive works of Art, and a Mamm that could read minds. Not very well, as it happened.
By the end of the day, Alistair was worn out, and hungry, and no nearer to saving his species from starvation.
*
The next day saw the invention of the axle.
“And what does this do?” asked Alistair, eyeing the cylinder of wood suspiciously.
“It holds two wheels together while, at the same time, keeping them apart.”
“And?”
“It stops them falling over when they’re rolling down a hill.”
Alistair thought for a bit. “Why couldn’t you just have a very thick wheel?” he asked. “That wouldn’t fall over, either.”
“An axle’s much better,” said the inventor, although he didn’t explain why.
“Er, I’ll let you know,” said Alistair dismissing him.
Then, a little later, came a Mamm who had invented the journal bearing. He brought with him what was basically a plank of wood, resting on two axles each of which had a wheel at either end. He called this object a ‘cart’.
“What’s this?” asked Alistair curtly, twitching at the sight of not one, not two, but four wheels.
“It’s a cart,” said the Mamm. “It...”
“No, no. Don’t tell me,” interrupted Alistair. “Let me see if I can guess the purpose of this fine contraption.” He pretended to examine it closely. “Ah, I’d hazard a guess that it rolls down hills! Am I right?”
“Why, yes!” said the proud inventor, clearly impressed. “But there’s more to it than that?”
“Is there really?”
“It seats up to four of us. Two in the front and two in the back.”
“Hmm, how very useful,” said Alistair, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
The inventor smiled at him.
“You can go now,” said Alistair.
“Pardon?” asked the inventor, not understanding.
“Get out of my sight.”
The inventor was still confused.
“Quickly, please.”
The inventor shrugged and sloped off, pushing his cart dejectedly before him.
*
That night, Alistair’s friend Reginald came to see him. Now, although Reginald had evolved intelligence, he perhaps hadn’t evolved it quite as fast as other Mamms.
“Hello, Reginald,” said Alistair, pleased to see a familiar face. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, something’s been bothering me for the past few days and I wanted to discuss it with you. Can you spare a few moments?”
“Certainly, Reginald.”
“Thanks,” said Reginald. He paused for a few seconds, trying to put his thoughts into words. “Well, as I see it,” he started, “none of us have been eating for quite some time, now.”
“That’s correct,” said Alistair, aware that ideas took a while to register with Reginald. But at least Reginald had his finger on the pulse of the problem.
“Now, according to my calculations, if we don’t start eating pretty soon, we’ll all starve to death.”
“Good,” said Alistair encouragingly.
“And if we all starve to death we, as a species, will become extinct.”
“Brilliant,” said Alistair, trying to hide any traces of sarcasm in his voice.
“So we’ve got to start eating soon.”
“I totally agree with you,” said Alistair patiently.
“Yet there’s plenty of food out there!”
“Yes, there is. There are thousands of species out there that we can eat.”
“Well, what’s the problem, then?” asked Reginald, suddenly excited. “Let’s go get them!”
“That’s the problem, Reginald. All these thousands of species have learnt how to run away from us.”
“Hmm,” said Reginald thoughtfully. “In that case, we have to stop them!”
“Good,” said Alistair with a little sigh. “You may just be on the right track there.” Then he explained about the Period of Deep Thought and how he was listening to suggestions from other Mamms.
Reginald was keen to contribute.
“So we need to think of a way of stopping them,” Reginald was saying. “Some way to stop them. I know!” he said suddenly. “A wall! That would stop them! Put a wall in their way and make them run into it! That’s the answer.” He looked at Alistair expectantly.
Alistair paused, as though considering the suggestion. “Hmm, perhaps you need to work on that idea a little.” He said as tactfully as he could. “Come back when you have something a little more concrete.”
“That’s it!” exclaimed Reginald. “A concrete wall!”
“Go away,” said Alistair. “Please. I need some sleep.”
So Reginald went away. But he returned the next morning and stood casually near Alistair listening to the ideas and inventions of the Mamms in the queue. He hoped, perhaps, to pick up a few ideas himself.
*
About half way through the day came an invention that would have a dramatic impact on future Mamm history. Its inventor, whose name has now been lost, stepped forward and thrust out a rectangular solid in front of Alistair’s face.
“Yes, what is it?” asked Alistair amicably.