The hunter stopped amid signs of a Cerapachynai tribe. It would not be good to stumble upon them, for they were cannibals who would consider the hunter a meal. It would be best to determine which way they were headed to avoid—. Intense heat ripped through the hunter's back, interrupting all thought. The hunter fell to the ground, twisting and writhing in agony, trying desperately to escape the burning. It was no use. In mere seconds the hunter lay still, a victim of fire from the sky.
♦ ♦ ♦
The community was up in arms. Panic erupted in the streets; panic caused by the absense of many citizens. No one who had left the city in the afternoon had returned that evening. Not a single scout, hunter, explorer, or forager. No one.
Unfortunately, it was not unusual to lose one or two, or even more on a particularly bad day. After all, many dangers lurked outside the city walls. Out in the wilderness roamed canabalistic Cerapachynai, gigantic Dinoponera, poisonous Pogonomymex, and the dreaded Formicinae who would kidnap and force one into slavery. They often attacked the city with the aim of carrying off the children. Nomadic Odontomachus raiders, robbed and killed those unlucky enough to come into contact with them. Armies of Humatum and Burchelli often marched across the countryside destroying everything in their path. Some wild beasts would swoop down from the sky, others grew large enough to crush one underfoot, usually a careless accident, but not always. The terrible Moloch, giant horned dragons, could tear down an entire city with a few sweeps from massive claws. In addition to these living threats, nature wielded such calamities as earthquakes, flash floods, wild fires, and poisonous winds.
But even with all these dangers, it was highly unusual for nobody to return to the city by nightfall. This day there were none.
The Queen's Council met in an emergency session to discuss possible causes for the situation and determine a course of action. There had been torrential downpours late in the afternoon, but those duty bound to venture outside the city to procure foodstuffs were trained to seek sufficient shelter in such circumstances. It was unlikely that harm befell them even with severe flooding. Had the trails been washed out? Had they all gotten lost? One of the elders recalled a legend in which an army got confused and wound up going in a circle, each soldier following the one in front of him and the leader actually following the one who brought up the rear. They marched on and on in this fashion until they all fell dead from exhaustion. But that had been an army on the march, not hunters and gatherers who operated independently and almost individually.
Were the Humatum on the march? Not likely, their columns would have been spotted by scouts who would have returned immediately to the city with the news. What about the Burchelli to the south? They spread out over great distances when they march; one could easily be surrounded before realizing it and thus unable to get back to the city. No, not everyone would have been cut off. Those that went north, for instance, wouldn't have come into contact with any Burchelli soldiers.
Had there been a poisonous wind? Those have been known to kill many. Poison wind came suddenly, moved quickly, and could cover a large area. The city would be safe, having been built to withstand such a disaster, but those outside would have no protection. The councilors agreed this was the most likely scenario and it was not necessary to seal off the city as it would have been in the face of an approaching army.
The Queen made an announcment that poisonous wind was believed to be the cause of everyone's failing to return to the city. She decreed that scouts would be sent out at first light to assess the danger and search for the missing.
In the morning search parties assembled and set out on all points of the compass to find those who had gone bravely into the wilderness and not returned. They found a body, crumpled in a heap, burned beyond recognition. They found another. And another. And another.
The scouts returned to the city with their horrific tale. One would have thought a fire had torn through the area, but that was not the case. Nothing else had been burned, no trees, grass, nothing. Just the bodies, as if these individuals had simply burst into flames for no apparent reason.
Again the council met. The oldest of the elders could not explain this phenomenon. Nothing like it had ever happened before. Armies of Pogonomymex had employed poison to subdue their enemies, but no one had ever successfully used fire. Fire had proven to be an uncontrollable force. Unfavorable wind could turn the weapon against those who would deploy it. Had some enemy learned to harness its power to inflict these deaths?
The Queen ordered autopsies performed on all the recovered bodies. She wanted to know exactly how they'd died. The examiners reported that with the exception of one who had been crushed, all the others had indeed burned to death, as had been reported. They hadn't simply burst into flames for no reason, though. Each had been hit with some sort of super hot laser beam, some in the head, most in the body, all from above. Something had brought down fire from the sky.
The Queen understood that these deaths were not the result of some natural disaster. Some believed certain creatures were behind the poisonous wind, but no one had ever tried to prove such a wild theory. How could any creature cause the wind to blow? But this was different. Someone or something had made a direct attack upon citizens of the city.
Outraged, the Queen decided to meet this threat with overwhelming force. Every available soldier would march out to find and destroy this enemy be it large or small. Five hundred thousand of them formed up and made ready to go.
♦ ♦ ♦
Little Timmy had had great fun yesterday afternoon playing with his new magnifying glass. Concentrating the sun's rays into a pinpoint, he'd delighted in watching the hapless ants upon whom he'd directed this deadly beam. Here he comes now, magnifying glass in hand, skipping merrily toward the anthill.
Somewhere below, three million feet begin moving to meet him.
Bibliography
Larson, Peggy P. and Marvin W., All About Ants, Ohio, The World Publishing Company, 1965.