Лю Цысинь - Of Ants and Dinosaurs

There was a smatter of laughter from the dinosaurs. Dodomi pointed a claw at the crystal platter. ‘You ants have issued this declaration dozens of times before. Haven’t you tired of it yet? Kachika, you would smother the great dinosaur civilisation. You can’t seriously imagine we’ll accept these absurd demands?’

Kachika dipped her antennae in affirmation. ‘We know, of course, that the dinosaurs will not accept these demands.’

‘Very well,’ said the secretary-general, rattling the bony plates on his back, ‘I think we can move on to the next item. Something more realistic.’

‘Please wait a moment. There is more to our declaration,’ said Kachika. She drew herself up to her full, frankly inconsiderable height. ‘If the aforementioned demands are not met, the Ant Federation will act to ensure the continuation of civilisation on Earth.’

The dinosaurs were stunned into silence, agog to hear what plan of action this minuscule critter could possibly have in mind. Their humongous jaws hung slack and malodorous.

‘If the dinosaur world does not immediately comply with the demands set forth in this declaration, all 38 billion ants working in the Gondwanan Empire and the Laurasian Republic will go on strike.’

Thin clouds had formed in the domed sky, floating like fine gauze, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow on the vast hall floor. For a long, long while, not a word was spoken.

Finally, Dodomi responded. ‘You are surely joking, Supreme Consul Kachika?’ he said.

‘This declaration was jointly drafted by all 1,145 member states of the Ant Federation. Our resolve is unshakeable.’

‘Supreme Consul, I trust that you and your fellow ants understand’ – Dadaeus paused to rub his left eye, which appeared to have been scratched in the fight with Dodomi – ‘that the dinosaur–ant alliance has lasted for three millennia. It is the cornerstone of civilisation on Earth. It is true that our two worlds have fought each other during our long history together, but our alliance has endured nonetheless.’

‘When the entire planet’s biosphere is at stake, the Ant Federation is left with no choice.’

‘Don’t play games. Remember the lesson of the First Dinosaur–Ant War!’ said Dodomi. ‘If you ants go on strike, the industrial output of the dinosaur world will grind to a halt, and many other fields, including the medical sector, will also be hard hit. We could be looking at the total economic collapse of not only the dinosaur world but the Ant Federation too. This course of action will affect the whole planet in ways we cannot predict.’

‘The First Dinosaur–Ant War was about religious differences, but this time we ants are withdrawing from the alliance to save civilisation on Earth. Given the extreme importance of what is at stake here, the Ant Federation is willing to brave the consequences.’

Dadaeus slammed his claws against the table. ‘We’ve been spoiling these bitsy bugs!’

‘It is the dinosaurs who are spoilt,’ said Kachika. ‘If the ant world had put the brakes on sooner, the dinosaur world would not have spiralled so far out of control nor become this mad and arrogant.’

The hall fell quiet once more, but this time the air was charged with a frighteningly explosive energy. Again, Dodomi was the first to break the silence.

Glancing round the room, he said rather cryptically, ‘Hmm, I think I require a moment alone with the ants.’

He heaved himself up onto the roundtable, crouched down in front of the crystal platter, prised it off the table, picked it up and carried the ants away, out of earshot of the other dinosaurs.

He withdrew a compact translator device from his jacket pocket and addressed Kachika directly.

‘Madam Supreme Consul, the Ant Federation’s declaration is not entirely unreasonable. Everyone can see that civilisation on Earth is facing a crisis. The Laurasian Republic is keen to solve this crisis too, only we haven’t found the right moment. But it occurs to me now that there’s an obvious shortcut we could take…’

He paused, partly to check that Kachika’s antennae were twitching in his direction, and partly for dramatic effect.

‘You ants could go on strike’ – Dodomi bared the full set of his terrifyingly sharp fangs in a ghoulish grin – ‘but only in the Gondwanan Empire. When the Gondwanan economy collapses and social chaos ensues, the Laurasian Republic will launch an all-out offensive and crush the Gondwanans in one fell swoop. They will be vulnerable and we will have no need to resort to nuclear war. We will then occupy Gondwana and shut down every last one of their industrial plants. As for the population problem, the war will wipe out at least a third of the dinosaurs in Gondwana, and the survivors will not be permitted to procreate for a century.’

He exhaled forcefully, undeniably pleased with himself. ‘Now, does that not meet the Federation’s demands?’

‘No, Mr President,’ said Kachika from the centre of the crystal platter. The other ant officials around her shook their heads. ‘That will not change the nature of the dinosaur world, and sooner or later we will be back to where we are now. A world war on the scale you envision will certainly have unforeseen consequences. More importantly, the Ant Federation has always extended the same treatment to all dinosaurs, regardless of ethnicity or nationality. In all parts of the dinosaur world we perform the same work for the same compensation, and we never involve ourselves in your politics or wars. This is a principle the ant world has honoured since ancient times, and it is essential to safeguarding the inviolable independence of the Ant Federation.’

The secretary-general chose this moment to shout across at them from the roundtable. ‘Mr President,’ he boomed, ‘please return the platter so we can continue the meeting.’

Dodomi shook his head and sighed. ‘Foolish bugs! You’re missing out on a chance to make history.’ But he did as he was bid and returned to the roundtable.

As soon as Dodomi had replaced the platter in its designated spot, Emperor Dadaeus reached across the table and snatched it up. ‘My apologies, everyone, but I must also now speak with the bugs in private.’

In a rerun of what Dodomi had just done, Dadaeus carried off the crystal platter, pulled out his own translator and addressed Kachika. ‘Right then, Supreme Consul Teeny, I can guess what that chump said to you. But I’m telling you: do not trust him. Not on your incy-wincy life. Everyone knows what a cunning, conniving conspirator he is. It’s those Laurasians who need to be wiped out.’

He swivelled his head round and snapped his fearsome jaws in the direction of his Laurasian rival. The platter vibrated alarmingly.

‘We Gondwanans still have some notion of how to peacefully coexist with nature, and our behaviour is constrained by our religious faith. But Laurasian dinosaurs are incorrigible dinocentrists – they’re true techno-worshippers from their horns to their tails. Their belief in the supremacy of machines, industry and nuclear weapons is unshakeable, far more so than ours. Those bastards will never change their ways! Listen, bugs, you should go on strike in Laurasia. Or, better yet, wreak widespread havoc. The Gondwanan Empire will launch an all-out strike and wipe that garbage nation off the face of the Earth! Little bugs, this is your big chance to do a heroic deed for civilisation on Earth.’

Kachika, however, was having none of it. She simply reiterated to the Gondwanan emperor what she’d earlier said to the president of Laurasia.

Dadaeus was livid. ‘What gives you poxy parasites the right to look down on our great dinosaur civilisation?’ he growled. And with a furious flick of his wrist he sent the platter hurtling to the floor.