That seemed a good sign. Veig now walked back along the trail towards the nest. Niall ran ahead and concealed himself behind a bush. Several ants passed his brother, and paid him no attention. Niall watched breathlessly, trying to control the pounding of his heart. Veig was still several hundred yards away, approaching very slowly. Suddenly, it struck Niall that he would be better employed trying to stop his heart beating so painfully; it was, after all, something he had learned to do as a child. So he forgot about Veig and turned his attention to his fear, ordering it to stop. For a moment it ignored him; then it began to submit to his control. He tried harder; the point of light glowed inside his head. When he looked up again, Veig was only fifty yards away, and his shiny, mud-coated skin made him look absurd; Niall could sense his fear and his determination. Like Niall, Veig was keeping his tension under control. A worker ant came out of the nest and advanced towards him. Niall could sense its confusion as Veig approached; the smell was familiar, yet it was not the right smell. But then, this creature was obviously not hostile, since he also had the smell of an ant. . . It was not until the ant and Veig had passed each other that Niall realised he had been reading the ant’s mind. It was a sensation like actually being the ant, as if he had momentarily taken possession of its body. And while he had been inside the ant’s body, he had also become aware of all the other ants in the nest. It was a bewildering feeling, as if his mind had shattered into thousands of fragments, yet each fragment remained a coherent part of the whole.
Then Veig was approaching the soldier ants, and they had no shadow of doubt that the creature ambling towards them was a stranger who had to be challenged. This thought passed between half a dozen of them, as clearly as if they had spoken aloud, but only two of them responded by making an aggressive movement in Veig’s direction. Veig recognised it for what it was, and turned and walked away. Niall’s concentration faded, and so did his insight into the minds of the ants.
Niall was struck by an interesting thought. If he had wanted to, he could have interfered with the pattern of communication between the ants. For example, while he was inside the ant’s body, he could have suggested that it should stand still instead of walking past Veig. If he had done so, the ant would not have realised it was acting upon his suggestion; it would have assumed it was obeying its own impulse. . . Was this how the spiders controlled their human slaves?
Veig joined him behind the bush.
“It’s no good. It must be the wrong stuff.”
“Of course it is. That’s the stuff they use for laying trails, not for recognising one another.”
Veig looked at him with surprise. “How do you know?”
Niall could not have told him; he just knew.
The sun was now directly overhead, and the ants had retreated to the coolness of their nest. Veig went and washed himself in the stream, and for the next hour or so they enjoyed the luxury of soaking themselves in the running water, then lying in the shade of date palms to dry. Hrolf climbed one of the palms — covering his arms and legs with scratches from the spiny trunk — and tossed down a bunch of dates; they were less than ripe but were still good to eat.
Then Veig went back to studying his ants, and Niall and Hrolf explored the territory near the stream. There was a tense moment when a big stag beetle rushed out at them from its lair under a bush; but when they fled, it quickly gave up the pursuit. Most of the insects here seemed to be fruit-eaters, and food was abundant. There were many varieties of fruit, few of which they recognised. On the whole, it seemed safe to eat any fruit that the insects found edible, although the most tempting, a large purple globe with green and yellow streaks, proved to be oily and bitter. Others, like the round, hard fruit that had lured Niall into the pit of the crater beetle, were sweet and slightly astringent, and seemed to be a favourite of the ants.
One small tree or bush, not unlike a barrel cactus, grew on the edge of the rocky wilderness. It had long, dry leaves that trailed on the ground — their purpose was probably to collect water — and they were as tough as alfa grass. Niall tore off three narrow strips and plaited them together into a rope. Rope-making was a craft he had learned as a child, and he did it so skilfully that his handiwork was indistinguishable from his mother’s. This new material was so easy to use that he went on tearing off strips of leaf and lengthening the rope until it was more than eight times his own length.
Hrolf, meanwhile, was sitting at the top of a pit made by a crater beetle and was trying to lure it into the open by throwing stones. The first stone, rolled cautiously down the slope, had made the beetle peer out of its lair; but when another stone bounced off its head, it had buried itself in the ground and refused to emerge again.
Idly, for want of anything better to do, Niall began throwing stones down the crater, trying to hit the slight bulge that indicated the presence of the insect. Then it struck him that they could lure it into the open if he offered himself as bait. With the rope tied round his waist, it should not be too dangerous. First of all, they tested the rope: Hrolf held one end and Niall pulled with all his might; if anything, it was stronger than their grass rope. Niall sat on the edge of the crater and began to edge his way down, making sure that he caused a cascade of stones. Before he was a quarter of the way down, the creature had poked its head out of the stones. Niall slid another two feet — Hrolf was paying out the rope behind him — then sat still again. The insect heaved itself out of its stones and sat there looking at him. There was something horrifying about that menacing, blank face, and Niall began to experience misgivings — suppose it could bound up the slope quicker than he could scramble to safety?
He felt the rope go slack round his waist, and knew that Hrolf was getting ready to use his sling; the other end of the rope was tied round Hrolf’s waist. Then the stone whizzed over his head, so close that it stirred his hair. Hrolf’s aim was good; it struck the insect square in the centre of its face, and it flinched and jumped backwards, landing awkwardly on its short legs. The massive armoured body was not made for swift movement, and it rolled sideways. Another stone struck it on the side of the face, causing visible damage. When a third stone struck it between the feelers, the insect made a sudden decision to retreat; within seconds, a bulge in the stones was the only indication of its presence; then this also vanished. Hrolf grasped the rope and pulled Niall back to safety. They hugged one another and laughed noisily.
A few hundred yards away they found another crater. Once again, the insect was lured out by the shower of stones; once again, it waited with menacing impassiveness as Niall slid down towards it. It was this impassivity that added spice to the game. The nightmare creature seemed to be sure that its victim could not escape. They could almost feel its amazement and outrage when it found itself under attack. This one was so infuriated when Hrolf’s first stone smashed one of its feelers that it tried to charge up the slope towards Niall. For a moment he was in the grip of animal terror, but it changed to relief as the cumbersome insect lost its foothold and slid on the stones. Four well-aimed slingshots were all that were needed to make it retreat hastily, and it made no attempt to retaliate by hurling stones at Niall. This, apparently, was a reflex caused by the victim’s attempt to escape.
When they found a third crater, shallower than the others, Niall was confident enough to remain upright as he advanced towards the beetle; he simply crouched down as Hrolf bombarded it with stones. He hurled a few stones himself, but they bounced harmlessly off the armour; once again, it was Hrolf’s slingshots that made it turn tail.
Niall was becoming bored with his role as bait; he wanted to try using Hrolf’s sling. Hrolf was perfectly willing, but he was too big and heavy to serve as bait; Niall could never have pulled his weight back up the sides. Then Niall had a fresh idea. Hrolf stood a few feet away from the edge of the pit, his feet braced apart, and Niall stood as far away as the rope would allow. Then he ran towards the edge of the pit at an angle, ran down the depression, and back up again, like a weight on the end of a pendulum, while Hrolf leaned backwards, taking his weight. The shower of stones brought the crater beetle scrambling out of its shelter. As it looked round in bewilderment, wondering what had become of its prey, Niall had time to loose off several slingshots. Compared to Hrolf, his aim was poor, and only one of them struck the creature on its head. But that was enough to make it decide to bury itself in the stones.