A Rustle in the Grass Page 3

  Black Sting paused a moment before answering. 'Thank you, but I am a soldier, not a debater. I prefer the battles of the forest to those of the Council chamber. However, we shall see. Are there any more questions?'

  There was silence. He looked once more round the chamber, then turned and strode out, with Dew-Lover and Snake's Tongue following.

  The Council chamber was the largest single space in the whole complex network that made up the colony. It was a splendid domed cavity carved out of the solid earth, with passageways entering at intervals all round and, in the roof the openings to a series of ventilation shafts, which permitted a continuous circulation of fresh air as well as admitting a dim illumination. The chamber was capable of accommodating perhaps two hundred ants, but was rarely used to full capacity. The Inner Council consisted of about thirty of the most distinguished elders, but on important occasions, when the consultation of a larger circle was required, there would be perhaps twice that number present. At rare times, such as today, when the life of the whole settlement was affected, every ant with any influence or prestige at all, from whatever class of society, was present. Whatever class, that is, except the highest. The Queen of Queens and her progeny, the young Queens, never interfered directly in affairs of government. She, however, expected to be kept fully informed of any developments or decisions and everyone was aware that she possessed the ultimate right of veto over any ruling the Council might make. Consequently her all-wise, all-knowing regal influence was always a powerfully felt entity in the chamber.

  The other body which was never directly represented at normal Council meetings was that of the common worker-ants – the most lowly and the most numerous caste of all, consisting as they did of perhaps two-thirds of the entire population of the colony – and it was only on very rare, extraordinary occasions such as this that they were grudgingly permitted to send a deputation to the proceedings.

  As Black Sting and his two subordinates approached this great meeting place they could hear the murmur of many voices and catch the mingled scents which indicated that the majority were already assembled. At the entrance to the chamber, two of the Royal Guard, distinguished by the pale colour and distinctive scent caused by their constant underground life, stood guard. At Black Sting's approach they saluted by withdrawing their antennae and stood aside. Black Sting acknowledged them with a cursory nod and strode into the chamber. Dew-Lover sneered disdainfully at them as he passed and Snake's Tongue followed close behind.

  Black Sting paused on the threshold and took in the tense, expectant atmosphere, the bobbing heads, the nervous buzz of lowered voices. The packed throng was massed around the walls, leaving a space free in the centre of the floor. He could make out the various figures of the most venerable elders in the front ranks surrounding the space. On the far side a group of officers of the Royal Guard were centred around the tall, virile form of their captain, Noble, Black Sting's opposite number in that elite body. The latter caught Black Sting's eye at that moment and nodded his recognition. Black Sting curled his antennae in a return salute and then made his way to the front rank on his side, followed by his two companions. There was a slight lowering of the general hum of conversation as the assembly became aware of his entrance, and then the talk picked up again and Black Sting himself was soon engaged in discussion by a group of elders at the edge of the floor. The proceedings had not yet begun and there was a powerful feeling of apprehension within the chamber.

  Then there came a sudden hush in the babble of talk, as two of the Royal Guard entered from one of the passageways and cleared a path through the crowd. Behind them, at the slow pace of the very aged, came the three ants who had been the Thunderer's closest associates and advisors. First was Great Head, now the community's oldest and most high-ranking Council member and immediately recognizable by his enormous skull supported precariously and somewhat incongruously on a rickety, fragile body. It was said that Great Head was at least six summers old, though no one knew for sure, and his vast knowledge of the world had been of invaluable help to Thunderer during his period of supremacy. Behind him shuffled One Feeler, who in his distant youth had lost an antenna in a battle with a rove beetle; and Mutterer, so-called on account of his somewhat senile habit of muttering aloud to himself when agitated. The three came to the forefront of the expectant gathering, murmured for a brief moment with some of the other elders there, and then Great Head detached himself and waddled slowly into the centre of the chamber floor. The silence was almost tangible as the crowded ranks waited for him to speak. After gazing slowly and steadily round the chamber, he did so, his quavering old voice suffused with a sadness that affected every ant who heard it.

  'Friends. Thunderer is gone. His great heart is stilled. His mighty voice will be heard no more in this chamber. His implacable will can guide us no longer through the obstacles and dangers of the world outside. He was not perhaps the most lovable of ants – his enormous energies left him no time for the pursuit of such trivialities as the affection of others. Yet I for one feel a greater sadness at his passing than if I had lost my dearest friend or closest brood relative. For with him has passed away a whole era in our colony's history. With him has gone a great part of the moral substance that has bound our community together. We have come to rely on his strength over the summers more than is perhaps healthy for a society such as ours that is so vulnerable to dangers from without. Our task now is to find a replacement for that strength. It will not be easy.' Great Head paused and again looked slowly round the assembly.

  'For the present I shall continue to preside over the Inner Council, and together we shall carry on the process of rule. But it is not in my nature to take the ultimate responsibility of leadership – quite apart from the fact that I am now too old and too tired – so therefore, before long, there will have to emerge a new leader, and if necessary a new system, to replace those which have served us so well for so long.' There was a gentle buzz of conversation, quickly silenced as he continued. 'Our Great Mother, the Queen of Queens, has asked me to convey her grief at our loss, which she perhaps feels more keenly than any of us, and to assure you of her faith in us all to surmount this crisis. I now leave the floor free for anyone who wishes to speak.'

  As Great Head shuffled slowly back to his place there was a hushed moment of expectancy. Then a low murmur of discussion again broke out around the chamber. At first it seemed that no one was eager to take up the old ant's invitation. Many were looking expectantly in Black Sting's direction, but for the moment he seemed quite content to stay where he was. On the opposite side the captain of the Royal Guard, Noble, also seemed unwilling to be the first to take the floor. Then there came a lull once more, caused by a movement amongst the ants at the rear, behind where Black Sting was standing. Someone was pushing his way to the front, but whoever it was was evidently having difficulty in getting through, for his progress was slow and laborious, accompanied by a certain amount of jostling and exclaiming as it seemed that the ants in his path were not willingly making way for him. Eventually, however, he reached the front and broke through to the centre of the floor. It was only then that Black Sting realized with surprise that it was Old Five Legs.

  Out of the company of his fellow worker-ants, and in the midst of so many larger-built elders and soldiers, the old ant did not seem nearly such a dominant figure. Indeed, he appeared distinctly insignificant and fragile as, puffing somewhat from his exertions at getting through the crowd, he limped slowly to the centre of the floor. The silence was one of astonished curiosity as he peered awkwardly round at the assembly. Rarely in living memory had a member of the worker caste dared to take the Council floor at all, let alone be the first to do so after the leader. When he spoke there was a certain diffidence mingled with the usual bluff directness in his voice.

  'It is perhaps not my place to speak first after Great Head, if indeed to speak at all.' He cleared his throat gruffly to cover his embarrassment at being stared at by so many curious, and often openly disapp
roving faces. 'I am but a common worker-ant and this is only the third time in my life that I have been admitted to this great chamber. However . . .' – he paused for a moment as if to determine how best to express what he wanted to say – 'However, that life has been a good bit longer than that of some here at this moment and I do represent the feelings of many of my fellow worker-ants, who after all make up the majority of the citizens of this colony – humble though we may be – so I would like to get in what I have to say before the floor is taken over by more illustrious speakers than myself.' There was the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he added, 'And before I lose my nerve at being the centre of attention of so many distinguished personages.' This little jest appeared to give him confidence, for he raised his head now and continued with more of his usual directness.

  'My name – with which a few of you may be unfamiliar – is Five Legs. It is so for a fairly obvious reason. My name before I lost my sixth leg – crushed under a falling stone during the building of the new brood chambers two summers ago – was Blunt, also for an obvious reason. And if you will permit me, I wish to be blunt with you now. I and my fellow workers were as shocked as any of you here at the death of Great Thunderer. He was in all ways a remarkable ant. However, in our case the general reaction to the news was, despite ourselves, somewhat mixed. There is no doubt that Thunderer's rule has given the colony a long period of stability and, for some, prosperity. But it is also true that under him we worker-ants experienced a certain amount of hardship and, in some ways, deprivation.'

  A buzz of indignant reaction went round the chamber at this. Five Legs, however, continued as if he hadn't heard.

  'It is we who have had to carry out the heavy labour entailed in his far-seeing plans for the extension of the colony's boundaries; it is we who have had to do the construction work on the enlargement of the base mound and the quarters beneath; it is we who have had to keep supplied the splendid, but numerous, force of soldiers and of Royal Guard that he insisted be maintained; it is we who have served the large Royal Staff that it is only fitting the Queens of such an illustrious colony should retain. All this of course is right and proper. It is for such duties that we exist. Just as it is right and proper that it should be we who dwell in the quarters most vulnerable to the extremes of heat and cold, frost and rain; it should be we who go without when food runs short; it should be we who are most exposed to the dangers of predators during our daily routines. Yet . . .' – he paused momentarily – 'despite all this, we have no say in the Council, no right to express our desires through that body to the Queen of Queens, no influence in any way over the decisions that condition our own lives.'

  Once more he paused and looked around the now silent gathering.

  'I assure you that in no way do we wish to challenge the existing order, nor to threaten the security of the colony as a whole. We are very conscious that we are only humble workers, and that it is such security which provides us with our livelihood. We are only asking that in the new order we may have a voice in the decisions which affect that livelihood. In other words . . .' – he hesitated, as if knowing the effect his next statement would produce – 'for a small representation within the Council itself. Thank you for your attention.' And he was limping back to his place in the crowd before the reaction could commence.

  When it did come it was like a thunderclap – an explosion of protest and outrage. Worker-ant representation on the Council! Never before had such a proposition been voiced anywhere in public, let alone within this hallowed place itself. An indignant babble of talk reverberated round the chamber, no one being quite sure how to react.

  Black Sting too felt the general indignation. It was not that he considered the suggestion morally indefensible; merely that it was irresponsible to challenge the existing order of things at such a delicate moment; that the scheme of things had been ordained with a specific purpose in mind, and one tampered with it at one's peril. He stepped into the open space and the tumult gradually died away. He spoke with quiet deliberation.

  'There was a time when such a demand as we have just heard would have been punished by instant death.' He waited to let the ripple of agreement die away. 'However, we live in more tolerant times now. I do not wish to pre-empt the Council's judgement on this matter by discussing it at length here. I say only this: the Council exists solely to fulfil the needs and desires of our great Queen of Queens and of her present and future progeny, for it is upon them that the whole future of our colony depends. For the same reason, the workers exist solely to fulfil the needs and desires of the Council. It is not . . .' – and he paused deliberately to add significance to his words – 'the other way round.'

  A loud murmur of agreement and applause ran round the chamber. Black Sting glanced round to the spot from which Old Five Legs had made his appearance, but there was no sign of him or any other of the small group of workers who had accompanied him, merely a little ripple of movement fading out by one of the tunnel entrances. Their mission having been accomplished, they had evidently slipped quietly away without waiting to hear the response. Black Sting put the incident out of his mind for the moment and turned back to speak of other matters.

  'I wish now to mention a proposal of my own for the Council's consideration. Now that the major work of the last few years on the development and extension of our colony has been completed, I am of the opinion that my force of soldiers, splendid fighters that they are, is not sufficient for the protection of such a major and extensive habitation. I would like to suggest to the Council that they make request to Our Great Mother to designate a larger than usual proportion of this year's brood for development and training as soldiers for my force.' He paused briefly, then added significantly, 'From the last speaker's remarks it might appear that there is now an even greater necessity for such reinforcements.' And he strode back to his place to a general murmur of agreement and nodding of heads.

  Immediately, however, this was stilled as the tall, pale, aristocratic figure of Noble stepped to the centre of the floor. The captain of the Royal Guard spoke with a cool, almost languid tone. 'In the light of Black Sting's suggestion, may I remind the Council that it was always Thunderer's policy, fully endorsed by Our Great Mother, that the forces of the ordinary soldiers should at all times be balanced as exactly as possible by those of the Royal Guard. I do not need to explain to any of you the very prudent reasoning behind this policy.' And, with a nonchalant glance at Black Sting, he returned to his place.

  There was a further mutter of discussion around the chamber. It was evident that battle lines were already being drawn up in the contest for power. The Council prepared itself for a long debate, and various of the more elderly members settled themselves to snooze.

  6

  Dreamer and the little worker-ant from the riverside colony had reached the mound and were now descending one of the tunnels inside. They had learned of the death of Thunderer as they approached. It had come as a shock to Dreamer, but one in which the element of surprise was strangely lacking. He felt grief, yes, at the passing of a great one. A sense of gratitude too that the Lord of the Stars had endowed the earth with so splendid a life, and had only now chosen to take it back when its finest purposes were completed. And perhaps some apprehension – for what was now to take its place? But no surprise. Rather an expectancy, an anticipation, as if he had known that such a momentous event was due, that life could not indefinitely have continued its calm route as it had done before, and that, now the disruption had occurred, the pattern was free to unfold itself once more; and that furthermore he himself had a part to play in that pattern.

  Now he was hurrying towards the Council chamber bringing news of still further gravity. He was apprehensive as he reached the passages below ground level, the little ant scurrying nervous and weary behind him. Dreamer had never before entered the Council chamber; rarely even descended to these regions, which were now relatively empty as so many of their habitants were at the meeting. But he knew that it w
as his duty to convey such tidings to the Council immediately.

  He could sense the distant noise and activity emanating from the chamber as he descended towards it, and his apprehension was tempered by his curiosity concerning that great meeting place. His general sense of excitement increased as the tunnel widened out in front of him and the faint light from the chamber filtered through, silhouetting the two Royal Guard standing at the entrance. He beckoned with his antennae to the little worker-ant to stay close behind him and marched with as much confidence as he could muster up to the two sentries, who instantly barred his way with raised mandibles.

  'I have a messenger with urgent news for the Council,' said Dreamer. 'It is vital they hear it immediately.'

  The two Royal Guard flickered their antennae cautiously towards Dreamer and his companion, seeking for alien scents or suspicious nervous secretions but, finding nothing ominous in such an insignificant pair, they drew back and allowed them to pass. For the first time in his life Dreamer entered the legendary place where the debates and decisions that governed the whole existence of the colony took place.

  At that particular moment, the ancient Mutterer was holding the centre of the floor with a long, rambling, disconnected reflection concerning some moral point or other. Most of his listeners were showing distinct signs of restlessness as Dreamer pushed his way apologetically through the crowd, followed by the diminutive worker, who was by now in a state of dazed stupefaction at the momentousness of all that was happening to him. As they reached the open floor, and Dreamer led the way round the edge to where he could see Black Sting standing, there was quickening of interest and a craning of heads at the untoward intrusion. Old Mutterer continued his discourse, apparently unaware that he had by now totally lost the attention of his listeners.