Galactica: Book 1 - Via Lactea

 

A week passed and the Decurie in charge of keeping an eye on the surviving Aquarian were staying a safe distance from the Female. Things seemed calm, but the surface of the pseudo-planet was slowly changing both in form and in colour. It had taken the sharp eye of Thorsten to notice the change.

"AI-6, I need a comparative image of the surface from the time the Male Aquarian disengaged after his mating and the latest we have."

The two images appeared on his monitor, side-by-side. The greying of the surface was difficult at first to spot, since the Aquarian sphere still had vast areas of its original cerulean blue colour.

"Do we have a picture of the surface once the blue has vanished?"

The Artificial Intelligence immediately replaced the left side with the requested image.

"Is it me or is it real?"

"What, my Lord?"

"Not you too! Stop the lord shit! But since you ask, I can see that the colour has greyed considerably?"

"It is correct, the albedo has dropped by 20%."

"Do you have an idea of the reason?"

"None."

"I wish Harp was around. Maybe he would have a suggestion."

"I can call him."

"No. He seems to be preoccupied lately."

Just then Tom and Jerry tumbled in the room, playing hop over each other and laughing noisily. They spotted Thorsten and looked at what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" asked Tom, whom had been the first Australopithecus to talk in thousands of years, after spending a day in a stasis pod and a week getting neural reprogramming and muscle re-education on a biobed.

"I am looking at these two pictures trying to figure out what they mean, Tom."

"Can we look, uncle Thorsten?" asked Jerry, as he looked up at the Dwarf from his crouching position on the floor.

"Sure. Get these two chairs there and push them to my desk. We will look at the pictures together. AI-6, can we have an animated view of the changes leading to the current state on another screen? If so, use the wide screen on the near wall."

A few seconds later, a short animation of the changes appeared for all to see. It was then that the changes on the surface became apparent for all to see.

"Loop the images, please."

"It is burgeoning!" exclaimed Tom, who had taken an interest in plants for his Tribe.

"But it is also dying," added Jerry.

Thorsten was not about to neglect intuition. He had benefited of it enough himself in the Dwarves’ mines to know better!

"Can you explain what you see, Tom?"

"That is like a plant growing, a seed that is coming to fruition. It is beautiful to see that. I never saw that seed. What plant is it?"

"I shall answer that question as soon as Jerry explains what he sees, Tom."

Tom looked at Jerry, the most timid of the two with an encouraging smile. That was another thing the two Australopithecuses had learned from the Atlanteans: facial expressions and their hidden meanings. Encouraged by his more adventurous counterpart, Jerry spoke up.

"The greying is due to dying. It is frequent in Fishes, and also Insects. They lose their vibrant colours. Even flowers fade, and become poor imitations of their former glory."

"Poetic, Jerry?"

"I love flowers. They are so beautiful and smell so nice."

"So, Tom thinks this change in the surface is due to burgeoning, and Jerry thinks it is due to death. How can we reconcile these two opposing views?"

"They are not opposing views, uncle Thorsten. They are complementary. It is like the notion that light is particle and wave. The two seem to be opposing but both describe the nature of light in some aspects, therefore light must be both."

"Not that I want to contest your analysis, Tom, but where did you get that about light?"

"I have these strange dreams at night, and when I wake up in the morning, it is like huge veils of darkness have been pushed away by powerful sources of light."

Jerry was nodding and clapping his hands noisily, approving Tom’s description with enthusiasm.

"I wonder..."

"No need, no need. We are responsible for that, King Thorsten. We saturate their nights with dreams that explain the nature of things. They are not ready for the Ordeal, but they can learn while sleeping. It is a lot easier on them than an Ordeal. We hope they will be ready in time for their own bonding with a Dragon and to undergo the Ordeal. They are learning quickly. Our only regret is that they lost four years," explained AI-6.

"Anyway, uncle Thorsten, you know that to live, one must die every second. Each cell division is the death of that cell. What you see there is death to give life."

"Jerry, you astound me. It took me months to understand this was the nature of life and then, when it is time to apply that notion to figure out what I was seeing, I was unable to do so. Come here, you two little scamps. I need a gentle hug."

Tom and Jerry climbed on their uncle and sat on his legs, hugging him gently and muzzling his hair. Finally, Thorsten stood up.

"Come, Boys, Timor and Colibri will be pleased. AI-6, where are they?"

"Colibri is in the Eden Tessaract, and Timor is in the Dragon Tessaract, giving a flying lesson to a Centurie of Dragonlings."

"We shall visit Colibri first."

"I suggest you desist. He is currently involved in something rather complex, and the arrival of these two tumbleweeds would disrupt his effort."

"If you say so, Thebes. I wonder what he is up to."

"You have spent the last week in your study. A lot has occurred which you are unaware."

"You scare me."

"It is scary."

"Can you update me?"

"I would prefer Tom and Jerry be busy playing before talking about this."

"What is he trying to hide from us?" asked Jerry.

"I wish I knew. And I do not know if Thebes has a sexual identity."

"Sexual identity?" asked Tom, perplexed.

"You are a Boy, right?"

"You know that!"

"What if I called you Girl?"

Tom roared, totally furious.

"Hold it! Hold it! We are trying to understand sexual identity, not put yours in doubt!"

"Then do not ever call me a Girl! Buerk!"

"That feeling, that emotion, this impression of belonging to a gender, a Boy, a Male, is sexual identity, Tom. The Females, the Girls, the other, oh so mysterious other gender, that disgusts you now and may fascinate you at a later stage, also has its identity, its feeling of belonging, like you do. Do you follow me so far?"

"Yes," replied Tom.

"How can we get interested in Girls? They have nothing to play with down there!" asked Jerry. "And they always talk and do stupid things we are not interested in! Girls are boring," added Jerry, in a tone that left no place to discussion.

"Boring now, but wait until you grow older. Maybe you will find them a lot more interesting."

"I do not want to grow older if it is to make Girls interesting!" said Jerry.

"Oh, Mother! Now I understand how Dad felt when we had this discussion! I shall have to express my eternal thanks to Dad for his patience with me!" exclaimed Thorsten as the three walked toward the Dragons’ Tessaract.

"But you are not interested in Girls Uncle Thorsten. You only have eyes for Uncle Harp! Maybe we will escape that catastrophe and be interested in Boys only, like you are?"

"First, Jerry, I am interested, as you say, only in Harp, because we are in love with each other. It does not prevent me from doing my duty to the Kingdom by consolidating the Empire by fathering Children left and right. But I thought we had been discreet."

"Discreet?"

"Well, we tried to do it quietly."

"If you call quiet the noise we hear just about every night around us, and invisible what we can see when we wake up in the early morning hours, you are deaf and blind, uncle Thorsten!" explained Tom, much to the embarrassment of the Dwarf King! "Anyway, it is fun, so why should you hide it?"

"The fact remains that for most Boys, Girls suddenly take a lot of space in their life, and they become the focus of their attention. As you know, it is not the case for everybody, but we are still the exception, not the rule. I also must admit that the picture is more complex, and I shall have to prepare for that exchange of information with you two."

"Are there Girls like you?"

"Yes, Jerry," replied Thorsten, hoping this would close the discussion on the slippery subject.

"Good. Then things are in balance." replied Tom.

Thorsten bit his tongue rather than voice his question. Balance? All was in balance? Where did that come from?

***

Let us move back in time a week and follow the group in the Eden Tessaract. As the reader probably remembers, they had been stuck in the safe room of the Wolf Den that serviced the entry point of the area they were currently exploring due to the Red Alert promulgated by Alexander. We now find them emerging from the Den, and exploring anew the clearing.

Ian and Harp were stymied. How do you communicate with an Ant? Enron kept looking at the geometric figures on the ground, unable to offer a suggestion. Colibri seemed to look at the Ants questioningly.

"Harp, you compared the anthill to a brain, how could this help us? And more specifically, what did you mean?"

"It is like this, Colibri. Our brain transmits signals through electrical signals, by way of a sodium concentration inversion at the surface of the axon which sustains the electrical potential, while insuring signal separation from the fact that the sodium inversion must be reversed by recapture of the sodium ions before another signal can travel."

"Yes, so?"

"Well, the Ants transmit chemical signals, probably pheromones, along the Ant columns to the nest, where the decision is taken. It is slower, but as effective, since the Ants have managed to survive since the Dinosaurs and probably before. What constitutes success in this world is the ability to survive through reproduction, and the Ants, in fact, all the colonial Insects, have been eminently successful, much more so than the Dinosaurs or, for that matter, many big animals or even plants."

"There is a deciding Ant somewhere?"

"No, there is a concentration of chemicals that lead to a decision. There is no more a decision Ant than there is a decision cell in our brain. We have Conscience because our flux of electrical potentials, all billions and billions of them that constantly change, add, subtract, multiply, divide, in short, interact, creating a dynamic flux that is greater than the sum of its parts. A neuron is not conscious, but the sum of them all is. Put two neurons in a loop, and they will begin to resonate, to flux, to change, their interaction being greater than the activity of each neuron taken individually. You will have set the first stepping stone to Conscience. It is the same here we see: Put two Ants together, and they interact, beginning the climb to the Conscience of the Anthill."

"But..."

"Colibri, our brain too is chemical, much like the Anthill. What do you think is going on in our brain right now? Each cell fluctuates in electrical potentials by integrating signals in the core of the axon, before firing its own signal via the sodium ion mechanism I described earlier. Each cell body is connected to other cells via short or long axons or even directly body to body, adding potentials or inhibiting potentials depending on where the connection is made and what impact it has on the travelling signals on the axon body. How do you think the signal jumps from one axon to another?"

"An electrical arc or a spark?"

"That happens in epilepsy, that is why it is called the brain’s thunderstorm, but it is not the usual method of work. The brain transmits a signal from an axon to another via neurotransmitters, chemicals, Colibri, chemicals! These chemicals are set free in the synaptic gap and captured by receptors on the axon body. Depending on where these receptors are located, they can add to the potential or reduce it, thus influencing on the probability of an axon firing. For Ants, the pheromones are the neurotransmitters! The Ants that run along the paths are the neural influxes! Our brain contains thousands of neurotransmitters, grouped in families, that determines the existence of pathways, that modulate everything from what we see, to how we feel, and even if we sleep or breath! It is the acidification of the blood by CO₂ that triggers the command to take a breath, Colibri, and that signal comes from the brain and travels to our lungs."

Colibri looked at Harp, asking himself thousands of questions but the Faery Legate was totally lost, shocked at what she heard. She was sure there was a little Faery in her head taking all the decisions, but, just as she was about to ask, Harp continued.

"Colibri, when we merge senses, how do you feel?"

Merge senses? questioned the Legate. Again, just as she was to voice her thoughts, she got interrupted.

"Elated, like I had access to another level of reality..."

"A meta-reality, Colibri. What we all feel is the process, the construction of reality produced by a gestalt, a fusion that is greater than the sum of our individual Consciences. This is what happens to our brain cells as well, and this is what happens to the Ants in that Anthill. The brain merges the flux of individual brain cells and create our individual Conscience, and when we merge we create an even higher Conscience. Then there is the Equine Conscience, the Canine Conscience, and gradually, the emergence of the other higher-order Consciences. All these Consciences are repeating the same process our brain have achieved in our individual body, and the Ants in the anthill. We should have known this was going to happen, that it had happened, even before we moved the Ants into Tessaracts, Colibri. It predates our arrival on Earth!"

"And I am waiting on you to join me in my transcendental form," added Ian. "It will take some work, but the more Consciences there are, the faster the process."

"That is nice, Harp, but how come we never communicated?"

"Have we ever tried? If you believe something impossible, would you try? It is much like Magic. How can you know if you have Magic of sufficient level if you never actually tried? Oh, there is instinctual Magic, the one that kept you or Jefferson alive, for instance, or the one that brought us together to form a family, and it helps to be attentive to special, unexplainable events to figure out we are living Magic, but it is only when you realise you actually can do Magic that you form the bond between Verb and Will and control Magic. It is easier for us today than it was in earlier ages, because Children are born seeing Magic on a daily basis; they see it, they feel it, they live it. It was much harder for me, I can tell you. My emotions were the main drive for the emergence of Magic in this life Cycle, Colibri."

"Be honest, Harp. I read an article in an Ancient magazine we recovered during our sweep of the Earth’s past, and it clarifies things."

Harp looked at Ian, frowning.

"We are what we eat, Harp! It said that titbits of chromosomes make their way intact in our bloodstream and modulate the genetic expression of our hereditary baggage. Your hot temper comes from the amount of Jalapeños hot pepper you eat daily!"

"I will show you hot tempered one of these days!"

"You can always try. Anyway, you also eat a lot of Pork, Chicken and Beef! That also explains another trait typical of Politicians: You are a Pig-headed Bird brain that produces a lot of Bull shit!"

Ian found himself in the river a few seconds before being ported back by smirking Harp.

"Meanwhile, Brothers, we need to solve the problem at hand. How do we communicate with the anthill other than with geometric figures?" asked Colibri. "Our telepathic capacity is intimately linked with the nature of our brain. From what you said, Harp, we are a combination of neurotransmitters and electrical signals. How can we contact a brain composed essentially of pheromones exchanged by walking cells known as Ants?"

"You put your finger squarely on the problem but also on the solution. Since the brain works with pheromones, we can generate these pheromones and use them to exchange with the anthill."

"You doubt of nothing!" exclaimed Typhoon. "We are not even aware of how we do what we do. How do you plan to know which pheromone to produce, in what quantity, and how to dispose it so the Ants carry back the right message to the anthill? And how do you plan to understand the answer? And what if it is a combination of pheromones? How do you detect pheromones, by the way?"

"The last question is the easiest. Remember when you change to Wolf form and keep smelling everything, including butts?"

Typhoon blushed fiery-red as the Faery Lady jumped back.

"Well, what you are searching for are pheromones. We can use the same trick."

"There, I think you are headed for a wall, Harp. Our Canine nose can smell pheromones all right, but they need to be in huge quantities compared to the subtle signals that must govern the anthill brain. But you did give me an idea," commented Colibri as he gently picked an Ant and ran his small finger on the shell of the exoskeleton.

"What do you mean?"

"Who understands Ants better than an Ant?"

With that, Colibri set the ant on the ground and disappeared.

The Elf Legate jumped back, surprised.

"I get it! Do not move! Colibri converted to an Ant!"

"I think we need to join him. He is alone facing a huge Ant colony. Do what he did!" exclaimed Sitar as he rubbed one of the many Ants that had been crawling along his scaly Dragon Boy legs, probably trying to figure out if it was food.

The other members of the team that could shift shape did the same. Before converting to Ant form, Harp locked the entry point to their area, raised a secure force field around the clearing, and ported those that could not shift shape back immediately outside of the secure Wolf Den except the two Legates.

"We will all convert to Ants. You are to explain to your troops why the area is now closed by a secure wall, and that we will reopen it as soon as we are back. It may take us some time to establish a meaningful contact with the anthill, but do not worry. Whatever our form, we still are Mages. The others outside may wonder why they can not contact us, so when they come to investigate, tell them what we did and why. I have shifted the entry point of the Tessaract to the secure area of the Wolf Den, since this field is now sealed on all 11 dimensions. Off you go."

The two Legates found themselves in the Wolf Den and immediately moved to the exit so they could explain to their shocked charges what had happened and what was in progress. As soon as the Legates had been ported, the shape-shifters converted to Ants and began looking for Colibri in the tapered grass.

***

Colibri found himself in a strange world indeed. His eyes were faceted, and he could see only a limited range of colours, mostly in the violet range. The ground, which had seemed so smooth in his original form, was strewn with giant boulders. It had been a sunny day, but now, he found he was in a forest composed of very strange trees. Then he figured what they were: grass blades, which were slowly rising from their bent-down shape to stand up again. That was where he had been sitting in his Dragon Boy form. He could not see far, but, to his left, there was a very dark mountain. Then he remembered Harp had been sitting on his left, and on his right Sitar. Looking right, he saw another huge, foreboding mass.

Then he began using his newly acquired senses. He had a formidable sense of taste, not that he particularly appreciated what he was tasting now through the air. Harp had been right and wrong: Ants could detect pheromones, but it was not through smell: it was through taste. He turned on himself once and could immediately construct a representation of space from the taste buds. It was apparent there were a lot of Workers around, and he was currently exposed. His first action was to climb on a rising grass blade to survey the area and assess the situation.

What he saw sent shivers down his non-existent spine: a huge column of Ants was walking along the floor some 500 Ant-steps away, framed by absolutely huge Ants, with pincers fit to cut through anything! Damn! Soldier Ants! Was the anthill on the warpath?

Then he thought things out some more: the Worker Ants were foraging for food, and needed protection against predators. The idea of predators refocussed his attention. What were the natural predators of the Ants? The Aardvark was one, but there were none around. So what else? The Mantis! But was there any? What is the natural habitat of the Mantis? As Colibri thought things over, he began to get worried. These beasts were everywhere, and their colour matched the grass. He could be just within reach! The hell with his stupid idea to convert to an Ant! Growing anxious, Colibri created a force field around his position, hoping it would suffice in protecting him from any sudden attack. Am I glad I did not lose Magic he thought. Just then he saw the two dark mountains near him vanish. Feeling no vibration coming up the grass blade from the ground, he correctly guessed the Boys had converted to Ants as well. Rather than move and run around aimlessly, he decided to stay put and wait for one or another of the Boys to find him. He watched the pollen fly by, blown by a ground breeze produced by an updraft where the Boys used to be sitting. Now, patience was in order, and Colibri could open a store to sell that rare commodity!

***

Harp also found himself in a strange environment. In his case, he realised quickly he was under the shade of a dandelion, and that the big violet-looking flower mass he was seeing was in fact the dandelion’s yellow flower as seen by an Ant. Near it was a fluffy ball, another dandelion who had matured to its seeding stage, and waiting for the wind to blow its airy seeds off.

After orienting himself using the sun’s ultraviolet light, he began moving toward Colibri’s position. He had to wait somewhat as a huge furry Snake, which he identified as a Caterpillar, walked majestically by. Once the animal had gone off, he resumed his trek, praying that Colibri would have the sense to stay put.

The first big problem Harp met was crossing a stream. It was not that it was wide, but it was fast. Then he remembered there had been dew on the ground when they had exited the Wolf Den, and that it was still very early in the morning. Good thing no one peed in the clearing, or I might have to ford a yellow stream! Harp thought.

As he walked along the stream looking for a way to cross safely, he was hit by a ton of water, a water droplet falling off another plant. He looked up and ported immediately fifteen inches! He had barely escaped a stalking Spider! Harp decided to install a Magic shield around his body. He had grown complaisant with the safety of Thebes oh so controlled conditions. The Spider had retired in her den, waiting for another prey to walk by, invisible except for those forewarned of her presence. Lesson: a peaceful, bucolic scene is deadlier than a war zone!

***

On the other side of the position occupied by Colibri, Sitar was faced with a much deadlier issue. He had unwittingly fallen on a column of Soldier Ants, accompanying foraging Workers. Since he did not yet know the pheromone codes, he was instantly identified as a stranger to the colony and attacked without mercy. However hard he tried to evade the attacks, the Soldier Ants found him from his pheromones, and tracked him mercilessly. Finally, he resorted to an Ant-sized Dragon and flew off, thinking his problem solved. Error! Barely had he taken flight that a Spider dropped on him from above! He had met another stalking Spider, the Tarantula.

The Spider thought her meal assured by that strange Insect, but met a formidable foe: Dragon skin was a lot more resistant than the chitin its stiletto used to pierce. However hard the Arachnid tried to drill a hole in the miniature Dragon, it failed. Meanwhile, Sitar studied his enemy, trying to find a weak spot. His first line of attack had to be decisive. Then he noticed, as the Spider turned him around using her forepaws, that she had eight eyes. There lay the fragility of the beast. He focussed and began preparing. As the Spider turned him once more in order to continue wrapping him in a cocoon, he fired a blast of Dragon Breath, burning the four major eyes. The Spider, taken by surprise, dropped the partially formed cocoon which lay suspended by a silk strand in mid-air. Sitar then used his sharp claws to shred the cocoon and another burst of Dragon Breath to burn the silk. He decided not to leave an enemy behind and climbed along the sticky strand of silk to attack the Spider. Another burst of his lava-hot breath completed the destruction of the last four smaller eyes. Well aware that the Spider had other weapons at her disposal, he then grew by twice the size of the Spider and crushed her head off. As he smelled the residue, he almost returned his breakfast! What an atrocious odour! Even 3-weeks old carrion smelled better! He thanked his good star he had not gutted the Arachnid! Unsure as to what to expect, Sitar decided to stay in his Dragon form at his current size. He could cover more ground that way and fly over obstacles.

***

Typhoon did not even bother to convert to an Ant. He just used the information gained from the genetic material to reduce to an Ant-sized Dragon/Human Boy. That way, he had the advantage of the Primates and Dragons combined plus the superb sensory organization the Ants used to detect pheromones.

Remembering where he was in the ring, he began to run across the circle, intent on cutting through the diameter. Using the best characteristics of the Primates, he added a long, very long prehensile tail, kept the opposing thumbs on the feet and hands, and began swinging from plant to plant, a la Tarzan. That worked nicely, as he managed to pass over a column of Ants undetected, and bypass ground-based predators.

He spotted some of the other team members, and by telepathy, informed them of what he had seen, inviting them to shift shape to match his. Thirty minutes later, he had collected a dozen Dragons, in effect all those that had joined the expedition. The next member recovered was Sitar, as he spotted the group running between two tuff of grass. He guided them to where he had spotted Colibri, and as they emerged out of the ‘woods’, they also saw Harp make his way to the base of the grass blade upon which Colibri was perched.

«Is everyone present and accounted for?» asked Harp.

«Yes. What now? I must tell you we need to solve the pheromone code as quickly as possible. I got attacked on my way here,» Sitar informed the others.

«By Ants?» Colibri enquired.

«Yes, and by a Spider.»

«You too?»

«Yes, Harp. We all did meet one predator or another. The life of an Insect is not what we thought it was!»

«Let us proceed with the Ants issue,» Colibri continued after making sure everyone was listening. «The best approach would be to study an abandoned path to determine the pheromone signal typical of the anthill we wish to visit. At least, if we meet another column of Workers framed by Soldiers, we will not be attacked on smell!»

«I thought it was on sight?» Typhoon asked.

«Ants are not visually-centred, they are odour-centred, and that means we must adjust our centre of attention as well.»

The Boys began moving forward, hoping to find a safe way to a path used by the Ants but now empty of their presence.

«Where to?» asked Ian.

«That geometric test ground must be abandoned by now, since it has served its purpose. But there were a lot of Ants at one point, so, if we can reach it without incident, we might be able to figure out the basic pheromones used for recognition for the anthill.»

The Boys followed Colibri, which seemed to have an innate sense of orientation even in that strange jungle. They met some more Caterpillars, a dozen Potato Beetles, and navigated around a Stalking Spider nest. It took them the day to reach the first trench dug in by the stick Harp had used, the hexagon. The Boys slowly peeked over the mount marking the canal and checked for Ants. None seemed visible, so they slid down the muddy face to reach the bottom of the grove.

«Ant form required! Smell all you can, but we stay together! Safety first! We learned the hard way Insects are not always peaceful! Remember the last attack and the Fire Ants!» Sitar instructed.

The short column made its way along the narrow furrow, and used their ideidetic memory to record all they could before climbing out.

«Let us go in that clearing and progress to the circle Harp dug around his sitting position to repeat the experiment.»

Following Colibri’s suggestion, the Boys turned due west and made for the circular dig Harp had made around his old sitting position. This time, their progress was hindered by an advancing column of Ants. Sitar ordered a strategic retreat, hoping the Ants would not detect their presence. Unfortunately, this hope was sorely misplaced. The first Ant that met their retreating path immediately turned around and forwarded the odorous signal to the one following it. The effect propagated along the advancing column and resulted in a change of path. The Soldiers, much bigger than the Workers, quickly outflanked the small retreating group of Boys and encircled them. Things were not looking too good!

«We are in trouble! Form the defensive circle! Magic shields up!» ordered Sitar.

***

The Ants moved forward, but they met the field and collided with it violently. The pincers of the Soldier Ants tried to bite but slid on the shield like it was glass, the clicking noise of the jaws deafening. Hundreds climbed on the dome, darkening the interior of the defence perimeter. Suddenly the Boys felt more than saw the ground shake.

«Extend the dome below ground! They are trying to get to us from below!» ordered Sitar.

The dome became a sphere, and the Ants found they could not reach their prey from underground no more than from above ground. Infuriated, the Insects began pushing on the slippery sphere, to no avail. Magic fields have this special characteristic that no energy applied can affect them. The Ants nonetheless continued to try and roll the sphere for some time. Finally, they stopped.

«I wonder what they are doing?»

«I hope they will leave us alone, Colibri. I have been busy recycling CO₂ by magic so we could continue to breath, as you could probably see if they would let some light in.»

«I somehow doubt that, Harp. They seem stubborn,» Typhoon said.

As if to confirm Typhoon’s views, the Boys felt a change in the sphere.

«We are moving!» exclaimed Ian, a bit surprised. «How is that possible?»

«We are being carried!» exclaimed Anbraxias. "They dug under us and lifted us off the ground!»

Indeed, the Ants had spend the last few hours digging under the sphere, creating a berth with their bodies. The Workers, numbering several thousands, had joined forces to support the sphere and then another layer had lifted their sisters and the sphere off the ground and were busy carrying the entire structure off. The Boys had no idea where they were being taken.

***

Several hours later, the sphere stopped moving entirely. The Boys stayed put as they could not see much of anything.

«If I remember, Ants are cold-blooded. Even with our Dragon eyes, we can not see them since their body temperature is identical to their environment when they are at rest.»

«Yes Colibri, but that does not stop us from lighting the outside from inside the sphere. Lux!»

Harp created a small source of light between his two hands. It revealed that the sphere was now inside a huge cave, crowded with Ants of all sizes and a huge Ant Queen.

«We are in the nuptial chamber of the Anthill. This is unexpected! Look at those Ants with wings. They are the sexualised Ants, Males and Females. The Females are future Queens. From their numbers, they are waiting for the proper conditions of the nuptial flight, during which the Ants will mate and disperse to create new anthills.»

«That lesson in entomology is fascinating, Colibri, but it does not help us in understanding why we were brought here.»

«We have to resolve the communication issue to figure it out, Sitar. Harp, since you have control of the Magic sphere, can you let in the pheromones without letting in the formic acid? I am not much for an acid bath.»

«Certainly, Colibri.»

«What we need to know is the chemical code. Focus on identifying each pheromone in its pure form first, then we can determine their respective ratio and finally how to communicate.» suggested Colibri.

Even filtering out the formic acid did not remove the strong odour of the Ants. After twenty-four hours, the Boys had a good portrait of the overall range of pheromones and began purifying them. Another day was required for Colibri to be satisfied with the quality of production. Then two days were needed to produce enough of each pheromone to begin testing the reaction of the Ants to specific chemicals. Four days had passed since their capture already.

«What do you understand of this so far Colibri?»

«I am not sure, but our presence in the nuptial chamber, added to the quite apparent readiness for a nuptial flight, seem to indicate the Anthill Conscience wants us to mate with the Females of the Nest when they fly out.»

The other Boys whistled in shock.

«Mate? But why?»

«Why do species mate, Typhoon? To produce babies!»

«You understand my question better than you let on, Colibri. Why us?»

«And why do you mate with other species, Dragon Lord?»

«To share genes, to bond with the other species and make them part of Atlantis, to make them Atlanteans, Dragons, Wolves, Elves, Humans, and what not, part of the Whole.»

«And what if the Anthill wanted that for its descendants? What other way could it achieve that goal?»

«You mean to tell me the Anthill wants its descendants to be considered Atlanteans?»

«Yes, and probably more!»

«More?»

«Well, the Anthill is probably well aware of its limits as a living entity, even if it has a certain advantage in the environment we supplied it with. Its response time to environmental changes are slow at best; its ability to modify that environment to fit its needs is also restricted. I think it wants our capacity to work as a whole, to change shape, in clear, to do Magic.»

«How do you plan to verify that interesting hypothesis?»

«Ian, we can ask, we can show, and we can get answers. To ask, I suggest we send out pheromones that match our specific species; to show, we can change into the species, while retaining the size of our hosts; and to get answers we can sense the pheromones sent out by the Ants. They can reconstruct our pheromones by combining their own in the proper proportion. It will take some time for all three steps to be done, but I am relatively assured of the order of things.»

«Ok, we can begin, since we have a plan. Colibri, since it is your plan, you are in charge!» decided Ian.

«When will it not be me in charge, that is what I would like to know!»

«When you learn to keep quiet, oh genius!» exclaimed Sitar.

«You asked for it, Sitar. You are to produce the Male pheromones typical of the Human-Atlantean hybrid in search of a mate. You know, that strong testosterone smell that gets the Girls all gaga?»

«And your Dragon mate as well,» added Apalapa, to a lot of catcalls from the other Boys.

«Apalapa, in this context, you need to learn to be quiet! You will be producing the same for the Dragons! And we all know, that pheromone makes Sitar go nuts!»

Another series of catcalls accompanied Colibri’s comments, much to the poor Dragon’s shame.

«Harp, you do the Stallion pheromones; Enron, you do the Elf Male; let me think, we need to complete with the Wolf... Ian, can you handle this? As Wolf Prince, you probably have it pat.»

Everyone acknowledged the assignments and began changing their pheromone chemistry to match the bill.

«Store the chemicals inside until I give each of you the command to release it. We do not want to mix the sensory flow of the Ants to the point the Anthill becomes disorganised,» Colibri instructed them.

It took six hours for all the proper quantities of pheromones to be produced.

«Harp, I think we need to release the pheromones in a dense puff, so I suggest that each of our chemists release their reserve rapidly across the Magic field. Is it possible to concentrate the release into a vesicle prior to transfer across the field?»

«Much like neurotransmitters? Yes... Sitar, where did you construct your pheromone glands?»

Sitar blushed deep red before muttering «Where the Chimpanzees of old had theirs...»

«Around your butt hole?» exclaimed Ian, shocked!

«That is fine Sitar, I only need to bag you with air-tight diapers!» said Harp, creating the said diapers with a blink, before exploding in laughter.

Poor Sitar farted violently and the Magic vesicle filled up considerably. The contents was a yellowish gas that seemed to boil over. After several minutes, the process stopped.

«Thanks the lords that this pheromone is sealed up, we might have breathing problems!» Colibri said. «Are you done releasing the contents, Sitar?»

«To the best of my knowledge and feelings. But you know there are always left-overs.»

«Cool!» exclaimed Apalapa.

«Are you not trying to say ‘hot!’ Apalapa? Given how your nights are explosive...»

«Stop it, Typhoon! I might release my own chemicals too early from laughter!» said Ian.

«Harp, how about creating as many vesicles as needed so we do not die of asphyxia here?»

«Sure Colibri. Here is the Stallion steroid pheromones. Enough to make every Male in a herd get enraged and every Mare in heat ready to couple.» The pheromone was a more reddish colour than the one associated with the Human-Atlantean hybrid.

Enron produced a slightly greener pheromone, and Apalapa a fiery-red one that seemed to be as thick as fluid lava. The last one, produced by Ian, was a thick rich-Earth colour, almost like hot chocolate.

«Do we have all we need?»

«Yes. Harp, release the Elf pheromone fist. From its colour, I suspect its smell will be less strong than the others and we need it to be detected.»

At first, the reaction of the Ants was downright aggression toward the exuding sphere, but it calmed down after an hour.

«That should not have come as a surprise. We induced an epilepsy attack of the Anthill. That pheromone, however weak, was still enough to overwhelm all communications in the nuptial chamber.»

« I gather I need to adjust our release rate?»

«Yes,» replied Colibri.

«How do we detect the reply?»

«Wait and see if the Ants begin producing the pheromone. Given they have a lot more experience in that than we do, I think they probably have begun. Harp, let in the outside atmosphere, minus the formic acid.»

The boys were suddenly assailed by an overwhelming stench, the stench of millions of Ants, but across that overpowering odour was the almost hypnotic smell of the Elf Male in rut.

«Is it the residual of Enron’s production?» asked Typhoon.

«No, air flow in an Anthill is such that the saturation level was probably below our own sensory capacities within minutes of the release. It was only the Ants’ specialized sensors that kept them overpowered by it. Release the Human-Atlantean hybrid pheromone, but at a much slower rate, please.»

Harp obliged, and the Boys gradually became aware that the Anthill became saturated by the odour so typical of Male Gymnasiums. The Ants again lost control, but at a much lesser degree than before.

«We are done. The vesicle is now empty.» Harp informed the others.

«Now we wait. Let us see if the Ants produce that pheromone.»

It took five minutes for the released pheromones to disperse to below detection level, and another ten before the boys finally were able to sense the added pheromone produced by the Ants.

«We have our answer. Next. If the colour is an indication of potency, I suggest we use the Wolf pheromones. I do not know whose pheromone is most potent, but from my frequent shifts to Wolf form, I can tell you that one is not a rose bed. Its strength may be due to the amount of attention Wolves put to their nose.»

«And to each other’s butts!»

«Apalapa, Dragons do not even bother with that when they mate. When the time comes, Dragons can compete with a Skunk! You seem to forget we keep busy!» exclaimed Ian.

even if Harp had cut the output rate to 10% of the original output, the release of the Wolf pheromones was accompanied by the usual panic and progressivism from the Ants. That promised for the Equine and the Dragon pheromones that were next!

This time the entire cycle took over three hours to complete.

«Should we stop?»

«No, Sitar. Ants do not sleep. We must complete the cycles. Harp, release the Equine pheromones, at 1% of the initial rate.»

The Ants went nuts, but Colibri decided to stop the expulsion of the vesicle before it was empty, thus shortening the madness.

An hour later came the ultimate test. The first puff of Dragon pheromone made the Ants go ballistic and Colibri immediately halted the transfer into the Anthill.

«If we ever need to make Ants attack something, Typhoon, dump a few drops of pheromone on the target and we will have an Ant army at our command!» said Sitar, impressed by the level of violence shown by the Ants toward the force field.

«We are done. Let us wait on the result!» commented Colibri.

It took a day for the Anthill to figure out it was its turn to supply pheromones. Its first reaction was to supply the individual pheromones the Boys had saturated the nest with, than it combined all of them. Finally, it supplied a new pheromone that made the reproductive Females of the Anthill very agitated.

«That is the Male mating pheromone of the Ants, I think,» said Colibri. «Look at the Females. They are trying to couple with everything that moves!»

«What do we do now?» Typhoon asked.

«Map the pheromone, and produce a carbon copy of it. We can tell the Anthill we understand what is expected of us,» Colibri suggested.

It took the Boys half an hour before they were relatively assured they had a good map of the molecule, and then they produced their respective version. Comparative analysis revealed some inconsistencies, but they were quickly fixed.

«We are ready. Harp, we will all supply a small quantity, and you release all five vesicles at the same time. The message should be clear.»

«You are the boss in this, Colibri.»

Colibri flipped the bird to Harp, much to the amusement of Ian.

«This is what happens when you lose the God status. Respect goes down the drain.»

«That is all your fault, Ian, destructor of illusions!» replied Harp.

«Are we ready?» asked Sitar.

The release of the pheromone was accompanied by the same mating dance the previous release had elicited.

«The test is conclusive. What now, Colibri?»

«Convert to Male Drones, combining the mating pheromones of the Ant Males and the individual species we supplied the signature. By now we should be recognised by the Anthill as valid mating subjects. Once this is done, we wait for the mating flight. I suggest we get ready. The other Drones are pretty frantic, so it should be tonight. Once this is done, drop the shield so the Anthill understands we accept the role she asks of us.»

«Should we accept?» Typhoon asked.

«Ian? Your call. I think the Nexus is now. We assumed it was the Aquarians, but I now believe this is the real test.»

Ian swung back and forth on the balls of his feet, and then he saw the fog break.

«Yes we do. We need the Ants more than we know. The fog is broken.»

Everyone felt a sense of intense relief. The conversion to Drones was quick and the release of the shield was immediately accompanied by a sudden increase in activity within the nuptial chambers.

«The sexualised Ants are moving out. The Anthill must have waited on our decision to release the mating Swarm. Let us go! Mate with as many Females as possible, then go down and convert to full-sized Faery. We need to find a meeting place, but for tonight, once converted, wait for the last of us to be reshaped. I, for one, do not wish to be stepped on while I am busy reshaping!»

Colibri’s last instructions given, the Boys moved out, following the Ant Drones to the surface. It took them a couple of hours to reach the humid dew-laced surface, and then began for the Boys the most amazing experience of their young life. The mating dance of the Ants was a complex figure that implied advanced acrobatics in mid-air, and coupling with many partners that put to shame Roman orgies. After two hours, the Boys were exhausted and dropped one after the other to the ground, converting to Faery form on touch-down. Once the last Boy had made his conversion, they lay down in the wet grass and fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

Dawn came way too early for our Insect World explorers, but they had some duty to fill. They woke up to see that the grass field was empty of all Ants, which had retired to the nest.

"I wonder where the Females we fertilised went?" Sitar wondered.

"Far enough not to compete with each other, but close enough not to run out of energy before they had their first batch of Workers are ready."

"I am more worried about the impact of our genes on the Ants. We are still able to think individually; the Ants never acquired that."

"I feel this is not where the real change will occur, Harp. It is in the fusion of the Ants to produce the Anthill Conscience that the major change will really be felt. They will be needed in the future. I feel it in my bones."

"Does that extend to other Anthills?"

"Yes. I close my eyes and I see we are faced with a hive species. It is only by having the Ants with us, as full Atlanteans, that we will be able to deal with them. The Borgs was a hive species, if we can call machines species, but they were a lot less dangerous than the species we shall meet in the future. We have time, but the process of incorporating the Insects, including the Bees, the Wasps, and even the Cockroaches. We must include all species able of creating colonies, herds, or other groups. Our survival depends on it."

"I just hope the Insects do not go to war with us or each other. We need peace and cooperation in this venture," said Enron.

"I hope so too. We will see," Ian answered.

"I do see one advantage to this."

"What is it, Harp?"

"We can now use the Insect world to run Ordeals. The Pyramids were becoming saturated with the constant flow of would-be Ninjas. It was putting a stress on the ecosystems within the Pyramids and endangered their survival."

"You have a point. I think we will begin using a restricted area of the Tessaract as training ground as well," decided Sitar.

"Let us feed and then move to the Wolf Den to contact the Legates. I suspect they are worried about us."

"Yes Colibri, and so must Dad. It is unheard I have left him without communications for a long time."

"I wonder how he will react to this new addition to the family?"

"Let me deal with Dad, Harp. I can wrap him around my little finger, and he does not even realise it."

"Your little finger has grown since you were born, Ian. It might stick up!"

"Harp!"

The aforementioned Harp ran off, snickering at a blushing Ian.

The Boys quickly reached the Den, to be met by the Faery.

"Finally! The Elf Legate has taken a canoe downriver to get in contact with another gate so he could inform the Royal family of your disappearance! It has been a week!"

"A week already? Damn! Playing Ant jammed our feeling of time. I shall go catch up with him. You say the next gate is downstream?"

"Yes, approximately 200 miles off. He left two days ago, so he should be somewhere around 50 miles down. The stream is fast, but there are quite a few white water stretches that require portage. There is a camp of Faeries off on the left side of the stream at the first portage, but they will not be of much help. Their path is way too narrow for his canoe, so they will have to guide him around and find an alternate route."

"I hope he knows to wear a flotation device. Elf or no Elf, he can drown!"

"He had one. But will he wear it? That is another matter."

"How far is that first portage?"

"Forty miles, my Lord. The stream is rough, but navigable. Given his canoe is an eight-foot individual one, it is quite manoeuvrable, and he has an innate sense of how to use it. He jumped the first fall without even blinking. But things get a lot tougher as he progresses. The white-water stretch is a level 5, and terminates in a sixty-nine foot waterfall. It is not possible to escape once engaged because the banks close in into rock cliffs with no beaches to land ashore."

"Ok. I’m off."

Harp converted to Dragon form and flew off, flying barely ten feet above the river. The stream changed directions sharply numerous times, and he spotted camping sites along the banks on either side. All were abandoned and in rather advanced disrepair, clearly indicating they had not been visited for quite a while. Some twenty-five miles downstream, he found a more recent campsite, indicated by a branch hut, some freshly cut logs, a fire pit that was relatively clean, and a dump pit freshly recovered with moss.

He flew off, and hoped to catch up with the Elf shortly. Unfortunately, his hopes were deceived. He reached the Faery camp without spotting the Elf on the river. He dropped on them quickly.

"Have you seen an Elf in a canoe?"

"Yes! He missed the tip of the river bank and engaged in the rapids two minutes ago! He is lost!"

"No, I will fly and catch him!"

Harp took off in a Red Dragon form, faster, with finer control than the Gold Dragon form he had favoured up to now. He flew downriver as quickly as he could. He had very little time to find and retrieve the Elf before he fell to his death!

The water swells were terrible, reducing visibility to almost nil, but Harp refused to give up. He swung left to right and back trying to spot the canoe in the maelstrom. Rocks protruded everywhere, the noise was deafening, and the shadows projected by the cliffs made for very poor visibility.

As Harp was ready to give up, he saw a canoe caught in a powerful whirlpool behind a protruding rock. But where was the Elf? Harp passed very low and spotted a red dot on the rock: The Elf, which was holding to the slippery granite for dear life! It became apparent the Elf had been hurt as he had been ejected from the canoe to the rock, probably severely.

Harp dropped on the river bank and focussed on the Elf. He lifted him off the rock and ported him across the stream to the top of the cliff. He then recovered the canoe from its death trap.

A short examination revealed the Elf had multiple lacerations, a broken leg, four broken ribs, a severe commotion, and that he had swallowed quite a few cups of water. Priority was removing the water out of the lungs to reduce damage, which Harp did by teleporting the elf a few feet. He then set the leg and the ribs, healing them quickly with Magic. The next step was healing the superficial abrasions. He then tackled the commotion. That would take a few hours and the Elf was shivering considerably due to shock and hypothermia. Harp built a fire, settled the Elf on a bed of ferns and howled to call for assistance. It took several hours and repeated calls before a Wolf pack came to assist.

«What can we do for you, my Lord?»

«The fire will drop shortly, and I dare not let it run unchecked. I need to get some medical assistance to the Elf before moving him further. Keep him warm with your body heat.»

«It shall be done.»

Harp put the fire out and ported directly to the Den.

"I need Mitsuko. The Elf Legate is severely hurt, and I need to stabilise the commotion."

"Call it. It will come to you when you need it," replied Ian. "I made it clear to the Sword that it was at our service, not exclusively at Paschal’s."

"Ok. I will be back in half an hour. Meanwhile, Ian, unlock the gate, we need it."

Harp was true to his word. He was back to the Den with the bandaged but still unconscious Elf. The Legate was air-lifted to the gate, ported to the General Hospital and put into an emergency stasis pod for in-depth treatment.

"He is in for a week of intense treatment, Healer. I need to go back to my mission. Tell Dad we are fine. I do not have the time to visit him."

"I shall do so, my Lord."