Of Ants and Dinosaurs

18 The Battle of the Signal Stations

The station responsible for the transmission of the Gond­wanan Empire’s interrupt signal was located on a barren tract of land on the outskirts of Boulder City. It was a small building with a tangled array of antennae on the roof and looked no more arresting than a weather station.

Security at the station was lax. It was guarded by just one platoon of dinosaurs and they were there mainly to pre­vent the occasional Gondwanan citizen from inadvertently wandering too close. Enemy spies and saboteurs barely figured on their list of concerns. In fact, Laurasia was more interested in the safety measures at the station than Gondwana was; they had lodged numerous protests with Gondwana, demanding that security be tightened. Other than the guards, just five dinosaurs were responsible for the day-to-day running of the station: one engineer, three operators and one maintenance technician. Like the guards, they had no idea as to the station’s purpose.

In the station’s control room was a large screen displaying a sixty-six-hour countdown. The countdown had never passed the forty-four-hour mark. Every time it reached that point (typically in the morning), the image of Emperor Dadaeus would pop up on another blank screen. The emperor only ever uttered one short sentence:

‘I command that the signal be sent.’

The operator on duty would stand to attention and answer, ‘Yes, Your Majesty!’ Then he would move the mouse at his terminal and click once on the ‘Transmit’ button on the computer screen. As soon as he did that, the large screen would display the following information:

Then the screen would reset to 66:00 and restart the countdown.

On the other screen, the emperor would watch these proceedings intently until the reset countdown began anew. Only then would he breathe a sigh of relief and depart.

For two years, this process was repeated every day like clockwork. No matter where the emperor was, whether in the imperial palace, on tour or even on a state visit to Laurasia, he always called the signal station every day at this time. He had never missed a day.

The dinosaurs who worked at the station found all this perplexing. They had been told that under no circumstances was the signal to be sent without the emperor’s order, but if the emperor wanted the signal sent every day, he had only to say the word: there was no need for him to personally give the order every day. Even the operators themselves were unnecessary. A transmission device on an automatic timer would do the job perfectly.

The sixty-six-hour countdown was also most mysterious. What would happen if it was left to run its course?

The only thing they knew for certain was that the signal was extremely important. The intense expression on the emperor’s face as he watched the signal being sent told them that much. But of course there was no way they could possibly have imagined what was really at stake – that this signal deferred Earth’s death sentence by one more day.

Today, however, their routine of the last two years was disrupted because the signal transmitter had broken down. Given that the station had been outfitted with equipment of the utmost reliability and employed a high degree of redundancy, with multiple backup systems, it was obvious that this total operational failure was neither accidental nor the result of normal wear and tear.

The engineer and the technician immediately began to look for the source of the problem. They quickly discovered that several wires had been cut – wires that only ants could reconnect. They attempted to phone their superiors to request an ant repair team, but the line was dead. As they continued to investigate, they found more severed wires. The appointed time for the emperor’s transmission order was now rapidly approaching, so the dinosaurs had no choice but to try and do the reconnection themselves. Unfortunately, though, their bulky claws made that impossible.

The five dinosaurs grew frantic with worry. Although the phone line was out of action, they felt sure that communication would soon be restored and the emperor would pop up on the screen when the countdown reached forty-four hours. To them, his daily appearance on the screen was as inevitable as the rising of the sun. Today, however, the sun rose but the emperor did not materialise. For the first time ever, the countdown got to forty-four hours and then carried on.

After a while, the hordes of dinosaurs fleeing Boulder City began to pass by the signal station. It was from these badly shaken refugees that the station team learnt of the situation in the capital. The ants had disabled all of the machinery in the Gondwanan Empire with their mine-grains, including the signal station’s transmitter, thereby paralysing the dinosaur world.

The members of the station team were nothing if not conscientious and they kept on with their attempts to reconnect the severed wires. But it was an impossible task. Most of the wires were in places that the dinosaurs’ stubby claws simply could not reach. As for the few exposed wires they could get to, the ends kept slipping from their clumsy fingers and could not be joined together.

‘Those blasted ants!’ The engineer sighed and rubbed his aching eyes but then quickly did a double-take. There were ants right in front of him!

It was a small contingent of about a hundred or so, rapidly advancing across the white surface of the operator console. Their leader was shouting to the dinosaurs, ‘Hello! We have come to help you repair the machines. We have come to help you reconnect the wires. We have come—’

Unfortunately, the dinosaurs didn’t have their pheromone translators turned on, so they couldn’t hear her. In fact, even if they had heard her, they wouldn’t have believed her. Right then, their hatred was all-consuming. The dinosaurs swatted and pinched the ants on the console with their claws, muttering through gritted fangs, ‘Lay mine-grains, will you? Destroy our machines, will you?’ The white surface of the console was soon covered in small black smears, the crushed remains of the ants.

‘Supreme Consul, I have to report that the dinosaurs in the signal station attacked the repair team. We were wiped out on the console,’ a surviving member of the team informed Kachika.

They were standing beneath a small blade of grass fifty metres from the station. Most of the members of the Ant Federation’s high command were also present.

‘Send in a larger repair team!’

‘Yikes, ants!’ shouted a dinosaur sentry standing guard on the front step of the signal station.

His cry drew several other dinosaur soldiers and their lieutenant outside.

A mass of ants was swarming up the step, four or five thousand by the look of it, like a swath of black satin slowly gliding towards them. A number of individual ants broke from the mass, waving their antennae at the dinosaurs, as though shouting something to them.

‘Get a broom!’ the dinosaur lieutenant hollered.

A soldier immediately fetched a large broom, and the lieutenant snatched it from him and made a few savage passes over the step, sweeping the ants into the air like so much dust.

‘Madam Supreme Consul, we must find a way to communicate with the dinosaurs in the signal station and explain our intentions,’ said Professor Joya.

‘But how? They can’t hear us. They won’t even turn on their translators.’

‘Could we phone them, perhaps?’ an ant suggested.

‘We tried that earlier. The dinosaurs’ entire communication system is down. It’s been completely disconnected from the Ant Federation’s telephone network. We can’t get through to them.’

Field Marshal Jolie interjected. ‘I suggest we look back to what our ancestors used to do,’ she said with quiet authority. ‘In bygone years, before the Steam-Engine Age, they would communicate with the dinosaurs by arranging themselves in different formations, to make characters. You should all be familiar with this ancient art, no?’

Kachika sighed. ‘What’s the use of telling us this? That art has been lost.’

‘No, Kachika, it has not.’ Jolie drew herself up as tall as her diminutive height would allow. ‘The unit currently under my command has been trained to form characters. I wanted the soldiers to remember the glorious achievements of our ancestors and to experience for themselves the collective spirit of the ant world. I had hoped to surprise you all during this year’s military parade, but now it seems this training can be put to practical use.’

‘How many troops are assembled here at present?’

‘Ten infantry divisions. Approximately 150,000 ants in total.’

‘How many characters can be formed with these numbers?’

‘That depends on the size of the characters. To ensure that the dinosaurs can read them from a distance, I would say no more than a dozen.’

‘All right.’ Kachika thought for a moment. ‘Form the following sentences: “We have come to fix your transmitter. It can save the world.”’

‘That doesn’t explain anything,’ Professor Joya muttered.

‘What choice do we have? It’s too many characters as it is. We’ll just have to try it – it’s better than nothing.’

‘The ants are back – and this time there are zillions of them!’

The dinosaur soldiers posted at the entrance to the signal station watched the phalanx of ants marching towards them. It measured about three or four metres square and was rising and falling with the uneven ground like a rippling black flag.

‘Are they coming to attack us?’

‘Doesn’t seem like it. Their formation is strange.’

As the ants slowly drew closer, a sharp-eyed dinosaur shouted, ‘What the…? Those are characters!’

Another dinosaur read haltingly: ‘We… have… come… to… fix… your… trans… mitter… it… can… save… the… world.’

‘I’ve read about this!’ one of them exclaimed. ‘In ancient times the ants communicated with our ancestors like this. And now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Amazing!’

‘Bullshit!’ The lieutenant flashed a claw. ‘Don’t fall for their tricks! Go and fill some bowls with boiling water from the water heater and bring them here.’

‘Lieutenant,’ a sergeant ventured timidly, ‘don’t you think we should talk to them first? Maybe they genuinely are here to fix the transmitter. The engineer and the others inside are in really desperate need of help.’

The dinosaur soldiers all began to talk at once:

‘What a strange thing to say. How’s this transmitter supposed to save the world?’

‘Whose world – ours or theirs?’

‘The signal sent out by this transmitter has got to be important.’

‘For sure – why else would the emperor personally give the order to send it every day?’

‘Idiots!’ barked the lieutenant. ‘You still trust the ants even now? It was our gullibility that allowed them to destroy the empire. They are the most despicable, treacherous insects on Earth and we will never let them fool us again. Go and fetch that boiling water. Double-quick!’

The five dinosaur soldiers raced off and within minutes were back with bath-sized vats of boiling water gripped between their claws. They fanned out in a long, steamy row, advanced rapidly and on the count of three hurled the boiling water over the ant formation. Scalding spray flew in all directions, generating voluminous clouds of hissing vapour. The black line of text on the ground was washed away, and more than half of the ants were boiled alive.

‘Communicating with the dinosaurs is impossible,’ Kachika said with a deep sigh as she watched the steam billowing up in the distance. ‘Our only remaining option is to take the signal station by force. Then we can repair the equipment and send the interrupt signal ourselves.’

‘Ants taking a dinosaur structure by force?’ Field Marshal Jolie stared at Kachika as though she were a being from outer space. ‘From a military point of view, that’s utter madness.’

‘It cannot be helped. This is a mad world. The building is isolated and relatively small. There will be a brief gap before any dinosaur reinforcements arrive. If we marshal as many of our forces as we possibly can, there’s a chance we’ll be able to capture it.’

‘What’s that over there? They look like ant super-walkers!’

Hearing the sentry’s shout, the lieutenant raised his telescope and scanned the distant wasteland. There appeared to be a long procession of black objects in motion. A closer look confirmed the sentry’s suspicion.

Most ant vehicles were very small, but to meet the specialised needs of the military the ants had also developed some comparatively large transporters called super-walkers. These were only about the size of one of our pedicabs, but to ant eyes they were positively Brobdingnagian, similar to how a 10,000-tonne freighter looks to us. As their name suggested, super-walkers had no wheels but moved around by means of six mechanical legs that walked in an ant-like fashion. This allowed them to traverse difficult terrain with ease and speed. Each super-walker could carry hundreds of thousands of ants.

‘Open fire on those walkers!’ the lieutenant ordered.

The dinosaur soldiers used their lone light machine-gun to strafe the column of walkers in the distance. Plumes of dust spiralled into the air where the bullets raked the ground, and one of them hit the walker at the head of the convoy, breaking a front leg and toppling it. As the walker’s five remaining legs pawed at the air, countless strange black balls began tumbling out of a hatch in the side of its hull. Each was about the size of one of our footballs and was composed entirely of ants. As soon as the balls hit the ground, they dispersed, like coffee granules dissolving in water.

Another two super-walkers were felled, but the bullets that penetrated their holds killed very few ants. A seemingly infinite parade of black balls rolled to the ground, releasing mass after mass of resolute soldier ants.

‘If only we had an artillery gun,’ moaned one of the dinosaur soldiers.

‘Yeah, or some hand-grenades.’

‘A flamethrower would do it…’

‘Enough! Quit jabbering and get a count on those walkers.’ The lieutenant lowered his telescope and pointed straight ahead.

‘Holy smoke, there must be two or three hundred of them…’

‘Looks like every last super-walker stationed in Gondwana is on its way here.’

‘Which means we’re looking at upwards of 100 million ants,’ said the lieutenant. ‘There’s no question about it – the ants intend to storm the signal station.’

‘Lieutenant, let’s run over there and smash those ridiculous walkers!’

‘That won’t work, soldier. Our machine-gun and rifles are useless against them.’

‘We still have petrol for the generator. Let’s burn them!’

The lieutenant shook his head calmly. ‘We don’t have enough petrol to destroy all of them. Our priority is to protect the signal station. Here’s what we’ll do…’

‘Supreme Consul, Field Marshal, our reconnaissance aircraft report that the dinosaurs are digging two rings of trenches around the signal station. They are redirecting water from a nearby stream into the outer trench. They have also rolled out several large fuel drums and are pouring petrol into the inner trench.’

Kachika did not hesitate. ‘Commence the attack immediately!’ she yelled.

The ants advanced in a dense, inky swarm, like an ever-expanding shadow cast upon the ground by a stormcloud in the sky. The sight struck terror into the dinosaurs at the station.

When the vanguard reached the outer moat, the ants on the frontline did not stop but crawled straight into the water. The ants behind them stepped over their comrades’ bodies and crawled a tiny bit further out onto the water. Soon, a thick black film had formed on the surface of the water and was spreading rapidly towards the other bank.

The dinosaur soldiers had donned sealed helmets to prevent the ants from slipping into their bodies. They stood ranged along the inner bank, dumping shovelfuls of soil and basin after basin of boiling water on the ants, but to no avail. The black film soon covered the entire surface of the water and great waves of ants washed across it like a dark tide. The dinosaurs were forced to retreat behind the inner moat, setting alight the petrol that filled it as they went. A ring of raging flames swiftly shot up around the signal station.

As the swarm approached the burning trench, the ants piled on top of one another, forming a living embankment. The dinosaurs tried battering this ant wall with machine-gunfire, but the bullets sank into it without a sound, as though swallowed by a black sand dune. Next they tried chucking rocks at it, and though these struck home with dull thuds, the holes they opened up were quickly refilled with replacement ant contingents. Despite the bombardment, the embankment continued to grow.

When it got to about two metres high, the wall advanced to the rim of the flaming trench. Its surface writhed in the heat like an angry python. Scorched by the blaze, it began to smoulder and the acrid smell of roast ant filled the air. Charred bodies tumbled into the smelter below, lending the flames a ghostly green hue. But new layers of ants continually filled in for their fallen comrades, leaving the wall standing firm on the edge of the hellish ditch.

Black spheres now began hurtling over the top of the wall. Some were snatched by the fires but most had enough momentum to propel themselves across the moat to the other side. As they passed through the inferno, the spheres’ outer layers sizzled and fried, but the ants held tight to each other, forming a scorched shell that protected their comrades inside. Within mere moments, more than a thousand balls had reached the opposite bank of the trench. Their burnt shells split open and the spheres dispersed into vast throngs of ants that surged up the steps of the signal station.

At this point, the dinosaur guards lost it. Despite the lieutenant’s attempts to stop them, they raced out the door and around to the rear of the building, galloping at full tilt along the only path not yet completely awash with ants. The ants streamed into the ground floor of the signal station, then up the stairs to the control room. Other divisions scaled the exterior walls, spilling in through the windows, painting the lower half of the building black.

Six dinosaurs remained in the control room: the lieutenant, the engineer, the technician and the three operators. They watched horror-stricken as the ants poured in through every crack and crevice. It was as though the building had been submerged in a sea of ants, its black waters leaking in through every orifice. The view out the window was no different. As far as the eye could see, the ground was a roiling ocean of ants, the signal station a lonely island stranded amid it.

In no time at all, the entire control-room floor was carpeted with ants, save for a circle around the central console in which stood the six dinosaurs.

The dinosaur engineer hastily took out his translation device. He heard a voice as soon as he switched it on.

‘I am the supreme consul of the Ant Federation. We do not have the time to explain everything to you in detail. All you need to know is that if this signal station does not transmit its signal in the next ten minutes, Earth will be destroyed.’

The engineer peered confusedly at the dark mass of ants encircling him. Then he consulted the translator’s direction indicator. It pointed him towards three ants standing on top of the central console. The voice that had just spoken belonged to one of them. He shook his head at the trio. ‘The transmitter is broken.’

‘Our technicians have already reconnected the wires and repaired the machine,’ replied Kachika. ‘Please begin the transmission immediately.’

The engineer shook his head again. ‘We have no power.’

‘You don’t have a backup generator?’

‘We do, but it runs on petrol and now we’re out of petrol. We poured all the petrol we had into the trench outside and… er… set it alight.’

‘All of it?’

The lieutenant took over from the engineer. ‘Every last drop. Our only thought was to defend the station. We even used up the dregs in the generator’s fuel tank.’

‘Then go outside and collect what’s left in the trench.’

The lieutenant glanced outside and saw that the flames in the trench were dying down. He opened a cabinet in the central console and pulled out a small metal pail. The ants stepped back to clear an exit route for him.

When the lieutenant reached the doorway, he paused and looked round at them. ‘Is the world really going to end in ten minutes?’

Kachika’s answer came through the translator loud and clear. ‘If that signal isn’t sent, yes, the entire planet will be burnt to a crisp in ten minutes.’

The lieutenant turned and hurried down the stairs. He soon returned, setting the pail on the floor. Kachika, Jolie and Joya crawled to the edge of the console and looked down at it. There was no petrol inside, only half a bucketful of stinking mud mixed in with a lot of frazzled ant corpses.

‘All the petrol in the trench burnt up,’ said the lieutenant.

Kachika checked out the window and saw that he was telling the truth. The fires had gone out. She turned to Field Marshal Jolie. ‘How much time is left on the countdown?’

Jolie kept her eyes glued to her watch as she answered. ‘Five minutes and thirty seconds remaining, Supreme Consul.’

Kachika inhaled sharply and allowed herself a couple of those seconds before she shared her momentous news. ‘I have just received a call. Our forces in Laurasia have been defeated. When they attacked the Laurasian signal station, the dinosaurs guarding it blew up the building. The interrupt signal cannot be sent to Luna. It will detonate in five minutes.’

‘It is the same for Leviathan, Supreme Consul,’ Field Marshal Jolie said calmly. ‘All is lost.’

The dinosaurs did not understand a word the three leaders of the Ant Federation had said. ‘We can get some petrol from nearby,’ the engineer offered. ‘There’s a village about five kilometres from here. The highway is blocked, so we’ll have to go on foot, but if we’re quick about it, we can be back in twenty minutes.’

Kachika waved her antennae feebly. ‘Go, all of you. Do whatever you want.’

As the six dinosaurs filed out of the room, the engineer stopped on the threshold and repeated what the lieutenant had asked earlier. ‘Is the world really going to end in the next few minutes?’

The supreme consul of the Ant Federation looked at him with the shadow of a smile on her face. ‘Nothing lasts forever, sir.’

The engineer cocked his head in surprise. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever heard an ant say something philosophical,’ he said. Then he swung round and left.

Kachika made her way back to the edge of the central console and addressed the ant troops massed on the floor beneath her.

‘I need you to relay my instructions to all units with extreme urgency. All troops in the vicinity of the signal station should immediately take shelter in the basement. Troops further afield should seek out crevices and holes in which to hide. The government of the Ant Federation issues the following final statement to the citizenry: the end of the world is upon us. Every ant for herself.’

Professor Joya was quivering from her feelers to her feet, impatient to get going. ‘Supreme Consul, Field Marshal, let’s make our way to the basement,’ she said.

‘You go, Professor,’ Kachika replied. ‘Field Marshal Jolie and I will not be accompanying you. We have committed the gravest error in the history of civilisation. We have forfeited our right to life.’

‘The supreme consul is correct, Professor.’ Field Marshal Jolie dipped her antennae solemnly. ‘Though the odds are against you, I sincerely hope that you will somehow manage to keep the embers of civilisation glowing.’

Joya touched her antennae to those of Kachika and Jolie, the most heartfelt gesture of respect in the ant world. Then she scuttled down off the console and joined the tide of ants streaming out of the control room.

After the troops had evacuated, a hush descended on the control room. Kachika pattered over to the nearest window and Jolie followed her. From the sill, they witnessed an extraordinary sight.

Dawn was about to break, but the night’s crescent moon still hung in the sky. Suddenly, the angle of the moon shifted and the moon began to brighten rapidly until its silvery light became a blinding arc of electricity. The world below, including the scattering throng of ants, was illuminated in stark detail.

‘What was that? Did the sun just get brighter?’ Jolie asked.

‘No, Field Marshal, that was the arrival of a new sun. The moon is reflecting its light. A sun has appeared over Laurasia and is frying the continent as we speak.’

‘Gondwana’s sun should appear any moment now.’

‘Isn’t that it there?’

Intense light flared in the west, inundating everything around it.

The two ants watched agog as a dazzling sun began rising swiftly over the western horizon. It swelled until it occupied half the sky, and incinerated everything on Earth in an instant.

The shockwaves from the explosion took several minutes to reach the ants, but they had been vaporised by the heat long before that. All life was consumed in the furnace.

That was the last day of the Cretaceous period.