shefefen

SHEFENFEN

(DISGUISED)

Haileselassie Girmay

ISBN 0-9519157-0-3

19992

Published by Haileselassie Girmay

Cover Designed by Haileselassie Girmay

The earthly tax man reported back that the people of the land have refused to pay their due, that they have broken their contract. "But they wanted me to tell you as well, that they are doing this not to raise their arms against you, even though some agent provocateurs would like them to do so, but because they have no more currency, nothing in kind and no more children to sacrifice.

"They say, well not in words but the message can be read visibly from their lips, that the master [they mean you] is partly to blame; he has, my lord, erected the most inefficient system of tax collection. The revenue has to go through limitless chains of corrupt officials and waiting at the extreme end, as you do, it is a wonder anything gets through, after all the ripping off 'we the people have to endure.'"

To compensate meager and ever-diminishing earnings the master always gets the temptation of sending the tax man not only twice but sometimes thrice. In his everlasting greed to earn more to finance his habit of hoarding and the peoples' everlasting burden of the unjust tax, they all show one thing in common: complaint of and hatred for each other. The tax no doubt was regressive. As a result, all that the people ever managed to accomplish, during the period of thirty years, was nothing but regression. The size of the population decreased, the weight of almost all the people reduced, making them thin to the bone to a point where it becomes difficult to recognise one from the other. They all look alike and you might as well give them one name to sum it all up. In fact these days, they all have one name given to them by foreigners which they seem to have agreed to accept: the starving people of the century. Their surroundings is equally destroyed, including the rivers, blood line of their lives, dried up. To make matters even worse, the ultimate arbiter for life, the sky, has taken issue with the people.

The domain of the infallible God, the mother of all the rain, the source of life for plants and animals, of even the smallest organism that which is invisible to the eye. The domain of the gigantic dinosaur today releases from its belly no more rain. Instead, it is now, just like a drunkard, accustomed to vomit wholemeal bread, wheatabex, dried meat followed by blankets, sheets, shirts, jackets in a manner a drunkard drops everything that he has kept inside. Wholemeal, Wheatabex are then shortly followed by doctors with syringes and glucose bags at one end, bombs, napalm, laser-guided missiles at the other end in space and time.

Such are the things now dropped from the sky, unseen, unheard of ever before. The sky has totally changed. A transformation no body in flesh supported by bones could hardly understand. A work of a divine? Perhaps. Previous earthly errors were punishable by pouring hail which left humanity with some resources to cope in their daily routines thereafter. Of course, there were causalities but not at a scale comparable to what the people witness these days. The number of causalities from the beginning of time to date, an accumulation of all the old method of punishments put together, were a fraction of a percentage compared to those which occur in a day since the sky has changed. Out of character, God is now totally visible and touchable. However he still moves fast; faster than the people can imagine at times, untraceable covering his foot prints with his fluffy white tail and the smoke screen. His very nature however, remains traceable and bears an unmistakably masculine character. Like earthly people, he too has become susceptible to corruption and vanity. While moving fast he has an uninterrupted erection and penetrates the white and dark grey, silky, clouded sky and everything beneath it with an inconceivable force and noise at his disposal, causing multiple orgasms out of fear, death, injury and hysteria.

Under the sea, in the caves, in a submerging ship full of rations, beneath the rubble of high story buildings, under a pile of stones, broken legs, shattered bones, defecating rectums, shivering lips interlocked, erected penises, swollen vaginas from fear and in exaltation engaged with one another ejaculating blood mixed with white, another vomiting intestine soaked with bile just to irritate the nerves of another soul laying adjacent in agony, eyes experiencing bright light, shooting stars gripping darkness. Everything designed and its progress monitored by the new sky master.

The trouble is: at any point in time people do not know for sure what the sky holds for them. Whether it is bread, a doctor with a syringe and glucose or cluster bombs followed by napalm, nobody on earth can tell until the things land and make their statement crystal clear. By then, God forbid, if they were bombs it would be too late to save one's own soul. If, on the other hand, it turned out to be a basket full of bread, then people have another day to see.

Burdened by the tax man, oppressed by the bureaucrats, nakedly brutalized by the despotic ruler and petrified by the sky master, the remaining survivors squeezed themselves into whatever holes they can find and if there weren't enough they made holes for themselves in search of safety in the inner womb of the Earth. The surface of the earth was totally abandoned, and only the wretched masters and their entourage were left, which made them even more desperate, hunting everywhere, digging deep in search of whomever they can possibly manage to get hold of.

"I thought," said one speaking soul in a hole, "They (the masters) did not want us to live on the same planet. Even after we have left the surface of the earth and its riches behind for them to do whatever they want with it, they still are tracking us down. What is the matter with these people?"

More tax men with special equipment to hook the people up, heavier and more expensive bombs, and more fire to scorch the earth with were used. The struggle between the two forces intensified. Both sides deployed more resources and ingenuity in order to win the battle. The people then relentlessly continued their digging and went deeper and deeper into the womb of the earth. As they penetrated deeper and deeper, the temperature got hotter and hotter and the chemistry of the air they breath changed. In their attempt to survive, people began to eat substances they knew nothing about and had never before seen nor smelled. The combination of all those changes brought a qualitative transformation of these people into a new species similar to that of the ants. They have six legs, antennae, a head, thorax and abdomen, some with strong jaws others with weaker ones, however, all with a mouth capable of uttering words. The words were, nonetheless, different with no similarities to any other spoken words on earth. They were universal in dimension, compared even to the international language the world used prior to the advent of the ant-like species. The interesting thing was that they all were, at the same time, able to understand this universal language they have now adopted or acquired in the process of transformation, even though they had had neither prior knowledge nor tuition. Even the average ones were as good as the intelligent lot.

In desperation, as the bombardment of the earth's surface continued, the people of yesterday continued their tunnel digging and finally succeeded in protecting themselves from immediate danger; they settled in the most inaccessible end of the earth. In memory of their hard struggle and fallen brethrens, they erected several ant hills in a circular fashion with the exception of one very tall one at the center which they called The Red Ant Hill.

The Red Hill was situated at the bottom of chains of circular mountains as high as Mount Everest. The Red Hill is yet again doubly locked out from the outer world by other chains of circular mountains even taller than Mount Everest. The peaks of the outer chains of mountains merge with the sky, and are invisible to the eyes. A smoke of clouds, sometimes white, another time black and grey permanently resides at the very top of the peaks. Up there it is a dream world, every viewer's eyes contort the vision of the moving clouds into different shapes of images which the viewer's mind is currently engaged in, images of beauty or that of a ghost haunting its creator. Halfway down the bodies of the mountains, the snow turns into streams of spring water feeding everything that depends on it. Sounds of all things in nature, plants of all names, animals of all sizes, ranging from that which is invisible to eyes to that which crawls and inhabit the place. They all live in harmony delicately balancing the survival equation.

Doubly locked inside the chains of circular mountains, the ant-like species felt safe, but it could be unsafe. It is safe because the enemy couldn't possibly enter. It takes seven days and seven nights to descend. And that is only from the top of the inner mountain circle. To come out, it takes twenty-one days and twenty-one nights. At times one can hear ant-like species complaining about the rugged nature of the place they now inhabit. It is not surprising, travelling up and down the mountains and the valleys is an arduous and treacherous task to accomplish. Many fall to their deaths especially at night. Others are wholly swallowed when they step on coiled bodies of pythons at a time and place which the pythons duly regard as their own. Oh, Red Hill is a true palace in the middle of the jungle surrounded by all sorts of animals and green.

Deep in their cities, connected with innumerable networks of tunnels, sewers, telecommunication, radio, water, railway lines, hot and cold air pipes, a new way of life began to emerge.

A new set of rules, completely different from the previous ones under the despotic rulers were formulated to suit the nature of the ant-like but verbal communicators. All regardless of their age, ability, colour - some were lighter than others - sex and sexuality had to live in sets but under the same roof: the ant hills. The promulgation of the new sets of rules categorically required all ant-like species to work in designated types of jobs, tirelessly for the common good and every one was to share the communal property, using what they need to maintain their predestined bodily size, durability, happiness and social cohesiveness. Most male ant-like species were required to deposit their sexual organs after being given an initial freedom to exercise their sexualities before castration. Most females were temporarily sterilized with the exception of a few who were now and then allowed to revitalize their sexuality to perpetuate the species. All ant-like species with big jaws are allowed to keep their body intact but strictly forbidden to mate with ant-like females. Their mission is to engaged in a sexual act with an ant-like female on a friendly and voluntary basis after a decisive victory against the army of the despotic ruler, to replenish the ant population. This is strictly an emergency measure, which is uncommon in normal times.

"Everyone in here," said the enlightened and gifted leader of the new species, "the procreators, the fighters, the bookworms, the guards, the domestic workers, the architects and the cripples have a job to do; and the job will be done without any supervisor or instructor. It is a job for life, a job for satisfaction. All jobs in this place of ours are complementaries, a term used as in the subject of Economics.

No other job can be done without the other lending its hand. We all live, we all die as a group and that makes us special, separating us from others. We live in a communal world made by all, for all. We believe our way of life is more cohesive and comprehensive, taking care not only of our immediate and distant needs but those of the universe too. It is much more economical, rational; nobody under its roof is left disadvantaged. Everyone is engaged in a job which he/she is quite happy with, with no-one left behind and no-one marching ahead in pursuit of personal objectives, in a world where personal objectives are one and the same with the communal objectives. Fulfilling communal objectives leads to the fulfillment of personal objectives and not vice versa. We have no fear, for we have no enemies from within. We have neither jealousy of each other nor conflicts within our ranks, for we do not envy any other ant's occupation or status. We do what we choose or whatever has been predestinely chosen for us; we have no power to change. We look after the old, the young and the disabled. We have hospitals for the sick and we look after them until they feel able to resume their duties. We have no prison cells, for we have no criminals. Of course, some may ask why then do we keep an army of a ferocious nature. That too, is not too difficult to explain: we have impeccable external enemies against whom we would like to defend ourselves.

This army of the invincible ants is designed only for this purpose. What is there to fight for from within? We work together and we live together under the same roof. How could private interest, even if we wanted it, develop? It is a problem only for those who adopted our way of life half-heartedly; theirs is collective work but private lives. That is where the problem lies and thank God we have successfully dealt with it.

However, other problems of colossal magnitude which need to be addressed urgently await us: we are surrounded by other species including the implacable human - the outer shape we abandoned during our trip deep into the womb of the earth long ago.

One way to deal with our external enemies is the effective usage of our entire army and technopaperlogical development. We have so far successfully used our ballistic missiles of Pen and Paper to deter our enemies from taking the offensive in war against us. We will continue to use these nuclear Pen-Paper missiles as a deterrent. We must continue to use it as a defence but if need be, we must also turn offensive to neutralize if not convert others to our way of life! That way, beloved ants, we will ensure our survival."

More often than not the community of ant-like species gather together to socially interact, chat round the fire and sing songs of heroic struggle to reach their destination and to praise the inner womb of all wombs, for all it did at a time of difficulty and for giving them the wisdom to set up a system the universe has never seen before. Once every month, they assemble all their resources - the army, the bookworms, the orators, earthly guns, the missiles and the social workers - to give them a briefing. Thereafter they are all dispatched to teach the words of the Universe. When the orators, flanked by the footsoldiers and missile launchers, make speeches from the top of a branch of century-old trees; everything comes to a stand-still. The wind stops blowing, the streams stop moving, the fish stand erect, the surrounding mountains tilt in the direction of the orators, the sky drops down to a roof level by the weight of all the residents of Heaven and Hell, all concentrating in an effort to tune in, especially the dead regretting what a wonderful opportunity they had missed.

"From the womb of the earth via the Red Hill, we have come out, at a risk, to tell you that we have found the solutions to all the sufferings you face. We are here, today, not to tell you how to exploit and oppress you nor to use our mighty force to take everything you have, but to tell you and if possible to show you how to rid yourself of those who take everything you have. We are here, today, to tell you not how we can govern you but how you can govern yourselves. We are here, not to snatch your resources, but to show you how efficiently you can use resources and to give our resources to you. Species of the surface of the earth, you are entering a crucial time in history, just as we did prior to our trek to the womb of the earth. Having no other animals around him to exploit, oppress and crash as he wishes, the despotic ruler is now, we hear, moving out of his habitual territory and spreading like an eagle his tentacles to the remaining hitherto peaceful surface as fast and as far as he can. Already he has devastated part of your surface and he has sucked a hell of a lot of your blood and chewed most of your flesh. From the look of it, you are the living proof of dead people.

We are here hoping to be of some assistance, if possible, and to warn of the inevitable danger that awaits you if you don't follow a way of life and a set of rules totally different from the life you are currently living, or perhaps we should say, are forced to comply to.

The enemy will not tolerate us coming to the surface to inform you of the true nature of his being. This is a gift of knowledge we acquired living very close to his heart before our forced departure to the heart of the womb of all wombs; nor will he tolerate you associating yourself with us, although you have not done this by any design of your own.

We will, to the best of our footsoldiers', Paper-Ink

nuclear-missiles and mental capacity, ability defend you against the most monstrous enemy of all. We will also work tirelessly to encourage you to adopt a way of life which is ours. We hope you will be able to adopt our way of life without having to go through a transformation similar to that which we underwent. Maybe. Who knows! But no one can take it for granted. In any case it will be worth a try. No harm will be done. If anything is better than what we witnessed today amongst you, so be it. One day, all of us may be able to live under the same roof and share the same style of life. A lifestyle we ant-like species alone enjoy today."

"My God! What an inspiring and satisfying speaker is this ant-like Orator!" said the butterfly.

"I couldn't agree more," replied the moth. "I have heard him and other colleagues of his on several occasions, addressing different kinds of crowds back and forth from their ant hill. You know, when the ant-like Orator sleeps close to you, though he is bodily cold by nature due to his hairless skin, it feels as if heat emanates from his body, warming you up when in fact he is the one who takes up all the warmth from you. He makes love to you, but it feels like you are making love to him. He talks and talks, and it feels like you are the one doing the talking. You carry him on your back and transport him from place to place, yet it feels as though he is carrying you on his back and taking you everywhere. He takes everything you have and makes you feel that he has given you everything he has. What a devil! What a nice thing to know this little ant! There is something twisted, something magical. I cannot tell what, but it leaves me baffled about this species. It is difficult to explain and defend them against those who oppose them, because nobody can fully comprehend them. Whatever they say, however they say it, there still remains a gap between them and the rest of us, in understanding it completely. Their albino nephew, the Termite attempts to make a similar claim of a communal way of life and the need to universalize it, but has not had any success. It is true, he leads a communal life but a kind of self-centered life, leaving a trail of destruction and misuse of the surroundings for future generations, including for himself in the long run.

I feel the ant-like species is genuinely behind the cause it advocates; and the world would be a safer place to live if they came out from the womb of the earth and administrated the surface. But I say, it would be a long time before the lifestyle of the ants could be universalized. It is too good to be true in my life time, especially when you have the humans who are suspicious of the ant-like creatures as converts not worth trusting. The main enemies of the ant-like species have developed antiballistic missiles, such as Ignorance, Opportunism, Rumors, Lies and Damn Lies, which effectively neutralize or destroy the ants' missiles in midair.

For every successful launch of Paper-Ink ballistic missiles, there came four- to five-fold of antiballistic missiles in the opposite direction. The fire of a ballistic shell, from the ants' quarter, with devastating elements of invisible shrapnel such as 'The Live In Harmony With All Species And Your Environmental Surroundings,' is effectively counteracted in midair by an antiballistic missile such as 'The Ignorant, Super Rumor, Lie and Damn Lie' loaded shells from the enemy quarter. Furthermore, small artilleries like 'The Devil Ants Are Spreading Their Hideous Way Of Life, Which Includes Sleeping With Everyone Including Their Own Sons And Daughters'; 'Allow Everyone, Regardless Of Whether One Is Working Or Buzzing Around Idly To Share The Fruit Of All,' [as if ants are not intrinsicly committed to a life of work if they can help it], are fired at the ants, dropping like torrential rain on the region they occupy. This effectively diffuses the potency of the Paper-Ink ballistic missiles and a good deal of effort and serious attempt to topple the enemy and its way of life is repeatedly frustrated," the moth concluded scratching its belly and showing the expression of relief, an expression of relief the scratching or the unloading of her inner feelings might have been responsible to cause nobody. However, to identify which one of the two was responsible for such a relief was difficult to tell.

The more resolutely the ant tries to spread its philosophy, the more aggressive the offence it gets from its enemies, scaring to death all other surface animals to avoid making any form of contact with the ants, let alone to adopting its philosophy.

Not having realized the grave danger the ant has entered into, as it tries to convert the surface of the earth to a style of the inner life of the earth on one hand and the superior way of thinking and the subsequent admiration it gets from the rest on the other hand, made the ants suffer from a degree of complacency it had never before imagined. It began spending more of its time looking inward. More time is now spent unnecessarily reciting and memorizing the book of the Universe, sitting in the palace court of the Red Hill, touching and being touched, massaging and being massaged; while on the other hand those sent to distant places to teach the words of the Universe, started accomplishing their journeys on the back of oxen and the shoulders of starving human beings for days on end, rationing themselves on the blood and flesh of their hosts while leaving unattended their excrete.

While the enemy tightened its grip on the surroundings of the Red Hill and the ants were putting up a brave fight, it became apparent that hundreds of thousand of ants were lost beyond recovery by an ill fate of natural causes. Without the help of others, ants appeared to lose the war on the surface. However, help from others was hard to come by despite the admiration for the ants' way of life. Others were not prepared to put their lives at risk for a cause they did not fully comprehend and even if they did, it was a vision too far-fetched and only practiced by a species living mostly underground in the womb of the earth.

At a time of high causality and in a society of the ants where only one female was selected to reproduce and perpetuate the genes and, for that, only a handful of males were allowed to mate with that selected female, the natural process was unable to cope with the requirement of the war. The community, therefore, decided to disallow the castration of males and the sterilization of female ants. However, the practice by many generations of celibacy could not be reversed in one go, no matter how hard they all may try to achieve the desired goal. Despite the declaration, it was only those who had their bodies intact who could still reproduce. Of course, the big jaw ants and some selected female ants were left unsterilized for reasons obscured from the knowledge of the ordinary ants. The legal permission for big jaw ants and selected female ants hardly increased the number of newborn ants, for they had already been in the process of reproduction, except that they could make no personal claim to any newborn ant. All newborn ants were oblivious to who were their own fathers and mothers. Although they were brought up by their natural mothers, they were told by all, including their own mothers, that they were from the blood and flesh of the Queen. Now, newborn ants can claim their own personal ordinary mothers, mothers less in status than the Queen but higher than the ant who pushed mudballs. This new arrangement served a purpose but still it did not help to overcome the urgent problem of reproducing fighter ants, or courier ordinary ants for that matter.

Another day, another meeting was called and the community of ants universally approved that ants should now go out in strength and make love to all other species and get at least semi-ants to compensate the depleting force before the ant world was totally crashed.

News spread fast and all the ants in the vicinity and in distant places went with arms outstretched grabbing females of any species in a manner of devotion. Female ants also went out looking for partners of their own, selecting from other species as well. It was more fun than a serious effort at procreation for them. However, they had been made infertile for life and there was no possibility, medical or political, to cure or to reverse the decision of the past. Nevertheless, their social interaction with other species served a purpose as a catchment area for potent male ants to make other species' females their partners. They came down to the ant quarter with males and females of other species driven in by a new sexual revolution which neither the surface nor the inner earth had never seen before.

One early morning, good news broke out in the inner chamber of the Red Hill. Some species who had mated with male ants, had a short reproductive cycle and managed to reproduce ant-like species ready to take up arms in a short span of time to stop the advancement of the enemy. For example, female moths began reproducing fluffy ants at a rate never seen before. They were a bit stout and bulky at the bottom; nevertheless, ant-like and loyal to the cause. And that was what was regarded as the most important development. The butterfly, although difficult to talk into bed which many red-hot-testicled ants complained about, was very friendly but likes to spend time jumping around, chatting over the table while she dines. She has now reproduced ants in the true sense, but this time with wings. That was the greatest achievement of the new declaration. Those flying ants had already been deployed to launch Paper-ink and other missiles from space to the ground, Space to Space missiles playing a crucial role in the final battle between the sons and daughters of the womb and the dominant inhabitants of the surface of the earth which was led by the despot.

Those who heard the announcement of the declaration on their way to the distant mission, on the backs of herds, decided to go inside the organ fully and yodel in the Grand Canyon to choose an ideal location to connect the placenta and to stay inside permanently, in order to enjoy it fully and inspect the whole process of procreation. Unlike that of the homo sapiens, it was less fortified and not a difficult place to enter and claim residence. Consequently, the offspring which they created in the depth of darkness, genetically preferred to spend its entire life-span lurking in the dark. It lacks the means and equally the desire to come out into the open. Its natural habitat became the inside of the body of all species.

This was also a very good news. These nocturnal and blind ant-like species could and indeed had been rightly deployed as intelligence agents behind enemy lines. They lived in the brain cells of other animals and began monitoring and influencing the thinking of the undesirable. They lived in all the systems of the organisms and sabotaged the food, railway, blood, water systems as and whenever necessary. In a short time, their impact was vibrating and could be felt everywhere. The enemy was reported to be terrified and panic stricken as the rumor of such creatures spread to all species of the fragmented world. The ants seemed very close to their victory day.

Chapter Two

Ants were also reported to have mated with human beings on the friendly side of the surface of the earth. However, it was indicated that so far no new born ant-like species was reported. Scientific and medical guesses pointed in the direction of twenty-seven months for an incubation period before it was possible to see one of the fascinating and baffling products of universal integration.

In the meantime though, ants seemed less worried about their staunch enemy on the surface of the earth; if anything, they were too relaxed, and complacent about their newly acquired strength. They spent most of their time engaged in sexual orgies [what was initially adopted painfully as a necessary means of tackling the problem of a depleting population has already taken the shape of decadence], mass celebration and festivity. Practically almost everyday was turned into an anniversary of one heroic deed or another.

For the first time, material and human resource wastage became evidentially clear to the underground and above ground worlds, including some of the ants, who wrestled with their conscience when they saw potent male ants spending their time and liquid fertilizer genes on barren female ants instead of doing it with the mother of all - the Queen Ant.

"Who the hell is going to hug that old, wobbly hog? Who would want to be suffocated to death, if she accidentally turn upside down completely covering you with her jelly white body?" "Not me. Not any more", said one cool big jaw ant in a grey bell-bottom trousers with the V-cut inserted from the hem to the knee.

Meantime, the population of ants drastically declined, with more elderlies unable to carry out the responsibility of spreading the doctrine of Universality. Had it not been for the flyers and the insider-ants, the whole world of the underground would have collapsed. But, there were others who argued that all the problems of a lack of commitment, inefficiency, adulteration of the doctrine of the Universe had all come about due to the evolution of the insider- and flying-ants. Without them, all ants would have strictly observed their Universal duties.

The problem was: nobody, including those who accused the insiders and the flyers, could tell precisely what the two species, both of whom were held accountable for all the disarray, had done wrong.

"We can only guess and guessing has not helped us for all these days. We live in a world where truth and facts are hidden from us, kept removed in some sort of official boxes for forty odd years or more", said one species whose identity could not be revealed.

Another problem relatively clear to all: although the flyer and insider ants were loyal to the cause of the ants, they spent most of their time in enemy held areas, which gave them the freedom to behave in a fashion uncommon to ants. This freedom to behave differently, it was feared, might have ingrained itself in their psyche and might have led to undesirable effects. Furthermore, it was difficult to monitor the day to day activities of the flyer and insider ants from the base.

Overall, however, the ants did manage to control all the inbreeding, and the cause of the doctrine of the Universality was more or less on course.

There were one or two problems the ants seemed unable to cover up though: alcoholism and a taste of milk as a new food. Neither alcohol delivery nor milk production in the area were problems in themselves. The problems were logistical and a lack of orderly peace and tranquility. To soften the internal system of the body from the burning effect of alcohol, among the army battalion, political cadres, editors, and whores of all kinds of species who were entertaining the palace, an order went out to every female of every species with a newly born baby to descend down to the Red Hill to offer her milk for the drunkards. The cry of infants deprived of their early morning milk turned the Red Hill, base area, into a marsh land infested with toads and frogs. The volume of noise around the Red Hill reached epic proportion so that many elderly ants either went totally mad, adding their cries to the noise, or died of heart attacks. Furthermore, as a result, security seemed to be compromised; the enemy could hear from a distance and could easily launch an attack and inflict heavy casualties. New problems emerged unheard of before, which urgently required new solutions if sanity and survival were to be secured. Ants were prepared to go to any length to find solutions to the new problems, even if it meant to negotiate with some liberal, but enlightened, members of the enemy. These members were enlightened by global developments that took place at the time. Alien elements such as tranquilizers, sedatives, psychiatric advisors were smuggled in to the womb of the earth, and were often aided by the new recruits from within the enemy personnels. Somehow, the problems were contained and the general principle of the Universe was not completely thwarted.

According to the Five Years Plan, at the end of the twenty-seventh months, five billion male ants who mate with homo sapiens will boost the population of ant-like species and the cause of the underground will be firmly secured. Surprisingly, however, news spread around that female ants previously regarded and rightly so, barrens, good for nothing, numbering roughly five billion, who mate with homo sapiens males for pleasure were reported to be in labour, to give birth to new five billion multiplied by seventy-five homo-ant-homo species.

Everyone was excited by this prospect and, unmistakably, more festivity was declared; more "Gesho" leaves were ordered to be collected to make more alcohol. This time, even infant ants were now dipped inside the barrels, where alcohol was brewed and stored, against their liking to make them feel part of the festivity. Fireworks, louder than ever had been heard during the actual fighting between the ants and the enemy sounded for the first time. Funny, the need to create such a loud noise as a source of pleasure makes you feel that all surface species, invariably are all but mad about fire and war. The ant has now began to adopt more of this than it ever had before.

On the last day of the twenty-seventh month, all ants and semi-ant species were instructed to be on a stand-by. Foot soldiers were ordered to enter their trenches, tankers were placed on the front lines, satellites were switched on, flyers were ordered to move in and out of orbit and missile launchers were instructed to calculate their bearings vis-a-vis their enemies.

Five billion homo sapiens and five billion female ants alike gave terrifying sound of labouring simultaneously. Only occasionally were the cries interrupted by mortar and tank shells, actually facilitating the birth process.

Nine hours later, the world saw ants, homo sapiens, semi-ant-like and other species running up and down, while the birth sound slowly but steadily began to subside. Some carrying stretchers began to be seen jogging in and out the Ant Hill; ambulances and helicopters were unusually busy transporting mothers and babies alike. Dust has masked the sky and the helicopters have to use their powerful lights to descend and take off. The sound of the mortars, the conventional war-headed ballistic missiles blast, that of the helicopters, ambulance and footsoldiers, the light, the thunder bolts, the shooting stars, the brightness and the darkness all mixed up together, virtually rendering it impossible to recognize a day from a night. It was a day when the coward turned brave and the brave turned coward.

Twenty-five hours later, it was announced that infant mortality was as high as eighty percent. The scientific explanation as to the cause for such a high mortality was given by the best experts in the field. They said, the chemistry of the D.N.A. of the ant-like species and that of the homo sapiens, due to their closeness on one hand and light years of distance separation, caused during the transformation from former homo sapiens into ants during the long journey to the womb, on the other hand, has caused a high degree of collusion and merging propensity at such a fast speed that the chances of surviving the impact was a twenty percent probability.

It was a depressing thing to see, all that digging and all the mass graves, but everyone had to remain calm and secretive to prevent the enemy know about it and catch them in their moment of despair.

An interesting and frightening thing that emerged to the surface was that the newborn babies were totally different than the ones already witnessed. Those newborn babies were the syntheses, the anti-dotes, that superceded all the forces which transformed the original Being,the traveller down into the womb of the earth and reclaimed the shape of the human being, except for the antennae and some slight alterations. The new offspring have, invariably, slim human bodies, merged with the mental capacity and the vision of the ant!

These species, unlike the others, appeared to be very complex in design, texture and making. They had the quality of both the ant-like and homo sapiens combined together. But the unity of the qualities was not in a linear fashion of dominant and recessive genes. In some areas it demonstrates infinite superiority over the others, including even the ants. In other respects, they fell short compared even to the daftest species on the surface of the earth. They had combined human desire with that of the ants intricately, making them totally different compared to other hybrids. They appeal to the Universal cause of the ants but only to use it to realize their homo sapiens needs.

They introduced a new vision, which ants were incapable of conceiving. Intricate technical concepts and precision were introduced into the work load of all ants' and semi-ants' causes. The doctrine of the Universality was skillfully and with great dexterity promoted, and the enemy appeared to be in a losing ground.

Ants were delighted for having to come up with an idea that finally materialized in the creation of a genius monster capable of tackling and undermining the enemy forces but equally troubled by the new developments, in the event that it turns against them.

For a start, all the austerity measures adopted by the ants to overcome their problems were now passed as a permanent code of life to be observed by all ant-like species. There was no going back to nature. Boozing and sexual orgies were allowed to continue unabated. Triple or quadruple job load specifications were introduced - an ant now works as a footsoldier, a mud pusher, a water carrier and a child-minder; while some homo-ant-like species were relieved of all sorts of work.

This transformation came about as a result of a popular vote. One fine morning, all ant-like species assembled under the age-old tree, right at the entrance of the Red Hill Palace, and decided on many issues. One of the topics of vehement and hard-fought discussion was the issue of the division of labour. However, despite the higher rate of mortality at birth, the Antennae-hoisted Being, the homo-ant-like, had the proponderance over the other species, including the genuine ant-like species. With this power, it voted for its exemption from all sorts of physical labour, including carrying books from the shelves to the study rooms to be read by itself. The job of carrying books from the shelves to the study rooms, for the books to be read by the Antennae-hoisted Being, has to be done by others.

Ants from the very day of their initial transformation into their present state of anthood declared that they have no other life. The cause was their life and their life was the cause. The Antennae-hoisted Being, however, appeared to have different causes, causes of no specific purpose and it used the Universal cause to promote other causes; causes at times clear to the Being itself and at times utterly undefined to anyone, even to the Beings themselves. But the Being kept pushing the universal cause for undefined purposes, hoping that they may be of some use one day. As time went by, undefined causes piled up one after the other to a magnitude of immense proportion requiring the necessity of a purpose for their own sake. Consequently, adding to the minor difference regarding the day to day code of behavior, two major fundamental philosophical conflicts emerged between the two species of the ant-like world. The original ant-like ants, had no other cause but the predefined Universal cause, and vehemently disagreed with the Antennae-hoisted Beings for incorporating undefined, ever culminating causes requiring their own independent anti-Universal entity.

Non-violent but open conflict raged between the two strands of ant-like species. The two of the ant strands campaigned vigorously to gain the support of the other species for the final showdown of popularity.

Chapter Three

Through no fault other than their own complacence and petty decadence, the original ants had lost their ability to reproduce significantly. This had left them open to lose their position in the new order both through the ballot box and/or military strength, while the new Being stood to gain. Original ants were openly accused by the Antennae headed Being for manipulating the entire species, even though their intention was for a good cause. The manipulation of the genetics of the entire species in some cases had led to the creation of albino, crippled and sightless ants.

The most serious accusation, however, was that they were ultra-leftists, who started to lead a Universal way of life in an ununiversalized world at an untimely period of history, exposing themselves and other species to a danger of universal calamity.

Ants on the other hand, accused the homo-ant-like of being a fluke combination of the genes of ants and the homo sapiens; a monster which flipped a genuine cause of the Universe to its own personal end, without due regard for others.

Regrettably for the very cause of the Universe, at the time of election the original ants lost the vote and, thereafter, things were never the same again. Many ants were put into prison as drunkards; some allegedly for over indulgence, others for a crime of genetic engineering. Many simply vanished, their whereabouts unheard of. Many thousands of ant leaders were rounded up and summarily executed for their ultra-leftist doctrinal stance, while still others had to face the guillotine for organizing the labour camps which led to the death of many of the ants who had originally been involved in the construction of the monumental Red Hill.

The Antennae-headed human that speaks the language of the Universe as and when it wishes, but in fact is practicing anti-Universal, earthly, former affairs, have now effectively taken charge as the leader of the battle against the enemy of all.

It has several doctrines which it can easily swap, one for the other as and when it is politically expedient. It has all the ant-like species behind it and all the sophisticated weapons at its disposal to fight against the enemy. The original ants were now receiving condemnation by every ant-like species as a code of rule three times a day, before each meal. Since the Antennae-headed human was the largest group of all the species and since it vows to remain so for a very long time, it has decided to abolish the election and permanently placed this Being as the sole leader of all the Universe. There was hardly any opposition to the declaration and it was agreed that the Antennae-hoisted humans were popularly and unanimously elected to power once and for all.

The position of the original ants kept deteriorating, compounded by many factors. The single-minded and single-purpose species turned pathetic under the influence of alcohol and sex. Now and then, you see an ant male coming out from the chambers of the Red Hill staggering and dragging six to eight female ants, semi-ants and butterflies stripped of their wings.

In a drunken state of mind, ants openly defied the new rulers for their total sellout in the face of the cause of the Universe and called upon all species to revolt. In their serious mood, on the rare occasions when they were unaffected by alcohol, they planned to organize a clandestine movement on the inner side of the inner womb, inaccessible to the Antennae-headed human, due to its relatively large body size.

However, unfortunately for the cause of the original ants, a species that can go deep although not deep enough is now breathing life and doing fine with the making of the ants. It can go as deep as its body chemistry and size allows it to go, and for the remaining part of the journey into the depth of the earth, it can use the service of the other semi-ant species. These semi-ants can be relied on to complete the task of successfully sealing the eruption of the revolution from deeper below up to the surface of the earth. All ants who took part in those unsuccessful revolutions were effectively buried alive between the upper inner womb of the earth and the basement of the Red Hill Chambers, unheard and unseen by the external world.

Having seen their compatriots failing in vain with all their means to topple the new rulers, some original ants agreed to co-operate and work for the new rulers. Now the Being can effectively use one section of the original ants against another. This way, any effort to bring a change thereafter became almost impossible. An atmosphere of mistrust amongst all species developed. Original ants were now spies here and another there, making it almost impossible to trust even one's own shadow, sealing everyone's mind from the rest. Everyone began suspecting everyone else and it became unsafe to talk even in the presence of ones own offspring or conversely one's own parents. It turned sons against parents, parents against daughters, daughters against sons.

To live another day, original ants, semi-ants, and even other species pretended to be drunk. Everybody appeared unintelligent, sitting and laying around with no desire to work or take initiative for fear of severe punishment as a calculated saboteur, determined to undermine the kingdom of the new masters. This fear was a threat in case things did not work as planned, a situation everyone dreaded.

This, meanwhile gave the enemy of all, the monster of the monsters, the despot, a new lease of life. War broke out not only on one front against the monster of the monster of all but also it broke out on all fronts - ants against ants, semi-ants against flying ants, homo-ant-likes against original ants, flying ants against semi-ants ... War here, war there, war everywhere, all against all. A total confusion and loss of direction. Nobody could listen to anybody, no matter who the orator was or how purposeful the cause may turn out to be.

Remember, the audiences of the original ant orators, when the roof of the sky caved in, the peak of all the surrounding mountains tilted? Now hardly anybody sat down to listen to any orator, human or semi-human, ant or semi-ant, monster or super-monster.

Chapter Four

The other day, a long-bearded, straight-noised and fluffy-haired creature, whom nobody had seen before, with a rainbow hovering above his head, outstretched his long arms, with several clawed tentacles and there arose a thundering voice with a vibrating effect saying, "Come to me. I will save your troubled souls".

A species passing by said, "do you want us to come bare handed or with our belongings? We know you own all the monumental buildings, including the building societies? Fuck off man! leave us alone! Our souls are troubled because of you and now you pretend to come in the guise of Father Christmas, to give us little and take everything we have! Don't you remember what an old man, bronze in colour, said to a monster like you, 'some years ago you came full of high sounding words while I was rich enough to provide you with food to live on. Now I am full of words while you have the land, and I don't think you should.' Got it?"

"How dare you attack me! How dare you vilify my integrity! You little devil with the broken body, squinted eyes and deformed face. I will have you wrapped in a piece of cloth and presented to me on a table to pass my judgement, soon," the bearded creature said angrily .

Everywhere, one finds original ants strangled, mutilated and asphyxiated. Some, it appears, took their own lives; others appear to have taken the bold action of throwing missiles against the Being, while still others took the decision to migrate a long distance.

A new law was promulgated instructing Antennae-headed Beings not to indulge in any sexual relations with other species except with each other and the higher Being. In fact contact with higher homo sapiens was rewarded with extra family income-support to encourage Beings to make inbreeding with these bodily superior species to boost the Beings' stature. The mentality of the Antennae-headed human, however, was regarded as superior to that of the homo sapiens, and Antennae-headed human engineers were deployed to replicate the brain cells of the Antennae-headed Being, as the brain of the new offspring. This was to be done without alteration despite the intermarriage. Thus, they strictly recommended all involved in the inter-breeding programme to take a tablet which depresses the chromosome which activates the homo sapiens brain cells. That way, it was secured that the new creature in the making would have the brain of the Antennae-headed human and the body of homo sapiens species.

Ninety-nine point nine percent of the project was a success. New bio-gentically identical creatures were created, with an elongated body structure and slightly altered head shaped, resembling that of a unicorn. The only exception was one engine-propelled individual with wings but a sharper horn than that of a unicorn. These creatures proved to be a return to the human body structure, a negation of the negation of the original transformation.

The two species lived side by side with no major conflict and no psychological or doctrinal differences, except for this individual who appeared to be peculiar and develop a distinct personality. He remained in isolation for most of the time. However, when other unicorn-like humans, antennae-mounted humans approach him for a talk, he captivates their imagination and tell stories no one has ever told before, causing them at times to lose their efforts to come to grips with the concept he throws at them with great ease; while at other times, making them laugh and cry hysterically, almost at will.

He became known as story teller. A story teller, who made all species cry until their eyes bled and laugh until their teeth dropped out. It became the age dentists flourished, repairing broken and replacing lost teeth. No serious work which was required to run the Red Hill palace could be done on time while this odd creature was sitting outside telling incredible stories of the lost promised land, of the original trip to the womb of the earth, which no living species had ever known about.

The palace court seemed to shift from the centre to the periphery, run almost single-handedly by one individual. All, young and old, women and men, super-ants or monster ants gave him due respect and did almost anything he asked them to do while the authorities at the center were totally undermined. His ability to predict the future accurately, including his own destiny, in the eyes of the rest, gave him a sense of power of divine proportion. Species with sexual problems, with internal system disorders, others simply eager to know what the future holds for them, came to hear his words. Above all, his ability to take off from the ground and wander everywhere with rocket propelled power, unlike the other flying ant-guards of space with feeble and irreplaceable wings, convinced others of his divinity. He flew everywhere and attracted audiences of a size never seen before.

His principles were the principles of the Outer Super-Universe and gave all species a sense of hope and salvation but scared the hell out of the monster of the monsters, antennae-headed humans and that of the unicorn-headed humans. Something had to be done to restore authority in the hands of the Antennae-mounted and Unicorn-headed human power structure.

One day, this rocket-propelled, winged, super-human ant, a recessive offspring of a long extinct original ant was caught and taken to a psychiatric hospital for mental assessment. In there, he was kept in a cell with a sightless, legless ant which was brought to the hospital for a similar threat against the establishment. This legless, sightless ant was brought to the hospital allegedly accused of overgrowing its required size inside the enemy system, almost forcing the enemy to take steps to check its internal system to locate the cause of malfunctioning and thereby exposing the entire intelligence network of the kingdom of ants. An eminent danger of exposure of the whole network of the security system became vividly apparent to the Antennae-mounted Beings and a group of special commando elites were sent to instruct this legless, sightless ant to return back to base immediately, or by force. In the end, a certain degree of force was applied to bring this ant to the camp, as it refused to let go the inside of its victim.

After an initial interrogation, it was led to the psychiatric ward of the prison where the winged super-homo, super-monster ant was kept.

"I feel sorry for you; they are going to clip your wings and you will no longer be able to cover as much distance as you would like to in the short period of time which it used to take you; and that is even if are lucky enough to get out of this place alive", said the sightless, legless ant.

"How do you mean alive? What have I done to deserve the death penalty?"

"Nothing! and that is even worrying. If they have kept you here for nothing that makes it even more likely to eliminate you so that you won't live a day to tell the story of arbitrary imprisonment."

"Boy oh boy! That is scary!" said the wizard of the ant world.

"Why don't you fly over and escape right now?," advised the sightless, legless ant.

"I wish I could. But you see my wings are clamped. Even if they weren't, the sky is infested with flying ants; although they are not engine-supported, they could still present a serious obstacle for me to escape. Besides, even if they fail to challenge me, they could simply blow their security whistles and alert the missile launchers to fire that monstrous thing at me. The ground is equally patrolled with footsoldiers and the underground channel network, thanks to the adventurous stupidity of the original ants to make love to human beings and ultimately get obsessed with some of the technical innovations those humans possessed, the underground is now installed with surveillance cameras, making it impossible to pass unnoticed. There are so many check points, automatically controlled by Robot-guided computers which you need to decode using passwords; there is no hope I could make it.

"You see, you spent almost your entire life in the enemy held area, you hardly know this place. It is full of security systems, and you feel comfortable if you think you are part of it but terrorized to death if you are being watched. Once you are grabbed by a state of fear of being watched, this place makes you feel your own left eye is up to something against your right eye! If you think there is something you have done they need not know, your internal body can feel like it wants to rip apart, for fear that some part of your body will betray and expose the hell out of you. You then panic and start telling everything including something you have not done but to make your story of crime more grotesque and convincingly credible enough in the eyes of your torturers.

"I know you won't believe this, but it is true. In any case why am I telling you all this? I don't even know you that well. For all I know, you could still be a spy planted here to inform them about me," finished the winged species, after a pause.

"In any case, I do not care any more what might happen to me. At least, I will feel good if I can release it all from my system and possibly enlighten you if you are kept in the dark - I mean, intellectually apart from your lifestyle," added the winged ant.

"I will do you a favour if you do one for me," said the sightless, legless ant.

"What?" responded the super-monster homo-ant-like.

"I could swallow you and help you escape from this psychiatric hospiprison, in return for flying me over the oceans and acting as my sight in the technologically advanced cities of the unaltered, untransformed homo sapiens."

"You mean all the time I would have to look after you?"

"No! only until such a time as I evolve into another species with a sight and means of movement appropriate to the place."

"Boy oh boy! That will take almost the life out of me."

"Those unaltered homo sapiens have either stopped evolving anymore or if they still do, it takes light years for them to come up with a qualitative change, and if you were hoping they will induce something purposeful for you to change, I am afraid you will be disappointed. Their bodies, their world is not like ours where continuous transformations take place. Theirs is dead, understand me?" said super-winged homo-ant-like.

"How do you know their bodies and indeed their place is dead? You have never been out of this place, and you keep telling me something you have not seen before. This is the problem of ants and the like; we seem to know all, to do all, and you my friend appear still to suffer from it."

"You may be right for all that you say. I have not been there before, but you have equally forgotten that I am a winged human and I could have had easily accomplished that trip, a point you arrogantly missed, I might add, due to your omniscient ant nature. Furthermore, I do not have to be there to know what I want to know. If there is no transformation in a place, if organisms, wherever they are, are pleased about themselves all the time, as we are told by authentic sources, you might as well say, that place is dead. That was what I meant."

"No, it is you who do not understand me. I do not need a longer period of time, well at least not as long as you think. I have all the necessary ingredients inside me to evolve. All I need is a peaceful time to explore my inner self and give it the best shot I can. All this time, I have been under strict instructions to accomplish work, I regard totally external and at times irrelevant for the well-being of any species concerned, let alone for my own sake. That infuriated me so much so I refused to listen to my inner self and comply with all that was necessary for inner development.

"In any case, I will swallow you in and you will fly me over, transformation or no transformation. I am sick of this place and, if I can help it, I want to get away."

"Are you sure it is safe to swallow me up? Will my wings be broken or consumed inside? You know you are notoriously known for breaking all species' internal defences; how can I be sure that I will be safe inside you?"

"You can't! But what option do you have now? Like it or not, and I don't suppose you will like it, they will break your wings, they will break your internal system, piece by piece in here. You stand a better chance if you go inside me and have a go, and you will be delivered at a point and in a time, let us hope in a manner agreeable to both.

"Ok, if you say so, but you are also a hospiprisoner; how will it be possible for you to walk... sorry, rather to crawl out of here without alerting the security? As it is, you have grown so big in size, it hardly requires me to inform you that every security siren and alarm bell will go off the moment you step out the main door of this hospiprison."

"That will not be a problem for me to handle. Well, it is a problem but there is a way out of it. I will swallow you and I will ask someone I know to swallow me in and take us both out of here but I expect you in return to do the job of flying us over as soon and as fast as possible."

"How on earth can I be trusted to do a job like that? Every fucken species in here is fucken loyal to the rulers and would do anything to please its new masters, even if it is not asked to do so. Besides how can I believe you that you will spit me out safe and alive and not exude some of my remnants through the other end. You have been doing that kind of stuff to other rebels before you fell out with the new masters. And even if you want to deliver me safely, your body is used to consuming and exuding the remains and might under the compulsion of habit want to do the same thing with me contrary to your intentions."

"I hope not, but you have a point there. I hope it obeys my new will, and I have the feeling it will. But even if it does not, what other chance do you stand? You are a prisoner waiting the ultimate fate of destruction. You have got to take any chance with even a glimpse of probability. In any case, there is something I did not tell you about me. Here inside me, there is a compartment fully air-ventilated, designed to smuggle out from the enemy-held territory any traitor ant serving the enemy, with all conditions vital for life for six to eight days, and bring it down here to face justice. That compartment might be still in use, but I cannot guarantee you, they might have taken it out or sealed it somehow, while I was knocked down by the state- sponsored gangsters, ironically for all the services I rendered for the nation - it is still a question I cannot answer. We will have to find out. All I can say at this stage is: take your chance."

After thinking a minute, the winged ant replied "Well, I guess you are right, but how will you take yourself out with me inside you from this place?"

"Do not worry", responded the sightless, legless ant, "I have figured it out a long time ago; I know to whom I can turn if I need this kind of help."

"Who could that be, may I ask, I am dying to know such a character of rare quality at a time like this."

"I can only tell you this when you are finally determined to leave, otherwise it won't be safe for all involved."

"Fair enough, I think you are right there."

"Besides, you should not try to uncover national secrets; if you do, you must be punished by death."

"What?" choked the winged ant.

"I am joking. Can't you take simple joke like that?"

"How do you mean it is a simple joke? When you know many of the President's bodyguards lost their lives in this place for telling some female friends of theirs that the President farted while doing physical exercise."

"Well, I am not a President, you need not worry about that," clarifies the sightless, legless ant.

"Who knows? You may be the President himself, sent as a legless prisoner to spy."

"Don't be ridiculous! A President to lose his leg just to spy on you. You give yourself enormous importance, more than you deserve. Don't flatter yourself! Ant complacency. That is what it is."

"For all I know, the President could keep his legs and sight at home, with the help of the medical doctors, and pretend he is somebody else."

"Oh! boy oh boy. You will go to any length to defend your point. Once and for all, I am telling you I am not the President!"

"Ok, forget about spying. To come to the main point, I can only say this: I will be willing to take the risk to leave this place via your insides, but I should ask you to give me time to stay a few more days and ask the officials to permit me to get in touch with my mother. I mean for them to call her from the village where I was born, where she still lives, to see me."

"Come off it! To stay for a few more days to ask permission and then see your mother! You have got no chance, and God knows whether your mother is still alive or even if she is, she may not want to see you. For a start, you abandoned her for such a long period of time, during which she had to live on her own wit, which she is bitterly bitter about it. Furthermore, you are a traitor to the cause while your mother and the others in her surroundings have been brainwashed thoroughly and baptized as part and parcel of the struggle. Any effort to rehabilitate them and bring them back would be fighting a lost battle. She may not, therefore, want to see you. No son is a loved son, if he is not loyal to the great cause of the big brothers. Well! At least most mothers love the big brothers more than their own natural sons, we are told."

"I do not think my mother would betray me, she is not like that. I know it has been so long since she saw me or heard anything from me, but I hope she would figure it out that I could not communicate with her nor could I accomplish what was required of me. The authorities blocked all my efforts to reach her by all means; these bastards would not allow money to get through to her. How then can you tell me that my mother is a brainwashed old witch even if she does behave that way, I know for sure she is doing it to save her skin until such a day comes when she would spit in their faces for having her go through such maternal deprivation."

"That is what I heard all the time when I came across all species under investigation, that all their mothers invariably denied their sons and daughters," replied the sightless, legless ant.

"Well! if you say so, do what you must do and let us get it done and over."

"This doctor from a distant land working here has a habit of seeing some of the female guards and cadres who visit this place to give political reorientation to deviant species like us. Not all of them but some of them have an affair with him. Some are married while others are spinsters. You can see when one of those is around, the doctor seems to get a bit excited, so he turns the syringe and injects himself instead of the patient and gets even more excited. I don't know and there is no way of knowing but it could well be heroin, because the sort of thing he does afterwards is not normal and he does it in front of all the patients. You could take this to mean that he does not care how the patients feel and what they would think about him or the gossip that follows thereafter. It is true that whatever patients say here is of no serious consequence and their point of views are not credible in the eyes of the officials. If rumor of scandal by an official reaches the highest echelon, that particular official is taken to be reliable and the next day you hear that official being promoted to a higher position. On the other hand, if patients admire a prison official, a doctor or any other hospital worker then that character is either removed or demoted," announced the sightless, legless ant.

"Anyway, this doctor when under the influence of the substance with which he injects himself or as a result of undefined excitement he initiates naturally himself, he strips himself and pretends to be a patient and would want the female guards or hospiprison officials to tuck him in his bed. At that stage if a patient asks for anything from the doctor, the patient gets it.

"At the height of such a moment, I will manage to get in to his secured and alarm-proof medical kit and pass through the security check points without detection and search while on his way out. The security will not have time to position herself quickly before the doctor makes a dash out of the scene upon reaching the anticlimax of this undefined type of love affair. Most patients guess that he feels terribly embarrassed about it all and wants to hide his face. Rumors spread around that the female guards who have been caught in their own conscience, about the noise and screams of love the doctor makes, have asked him not to do such a highly publicised performance, or if he prefers doing these sorts of things, he should do it privately. It is said that the doctor had agreed that he would not do it ever again; if at all, he promised it will be done in a private and secluded place.

"Unfortunately, it seems, there are moments he gets caught in a state of an emotional fix that he could not help but yield to his desire, shouting and gibbering publicly. In fact, such a strong emotional and sexual desire which requires a fix appears to surface only in public and especially where patients and others gather. Female officials consented that such a thing never happened privately even if they begged for it.

"In any case, all the better for us. We will exit and I will crawl you safely into his garden and there it will be your turn to fly us to a distant place where you can speak your mind and I can if possible undergo some kind of transformation. I cannot tell you exactly what, however. It could either turn out to be for the worst or for the better. In any case, as long as one remains as a foreigner, and there is no way one could be otherwise or in any way similar to those unaltered, untransformed species of that foreign land, one will not be threatened by whatever one does and says. That will be in our favour, at least. There may be some other negative points against us but no place will be as bad as this is, at the moment, and it would be a pretty good idea to save one's own ass for a better day to come."

As planned, at last they managed to get out but spent hours in the garden of the doctor; it appeared they were engaged in serious and deep conversation.

The winged super-monster homo sapi-ant seemed to be reluctant to fly.

"It is no use flying and ending up back in the same place. I tell you the air is fully infested with flying semi-ants and they will track us down. Stop telling me to fly and stop accusing me of reneging. I will do it if you insist, just for the sake of it, but what good will it serve us if we vanish in the process? Instead, I know it will irritate you when I say this but I must say it: why don't you swallow me again and take a nice swim down the river all the way to the border, there and then I will fly us both to our destination," suggested the winged ant.

"Eh! Now you want me to swallow you yet again. You have my trust and what is more, the comfort of being inside me."

"What is wrong about trusting you now and not trusting you then? It is logical, as far as I am concerned. Let us stop arguing the whole day before we give away our identity. Furthermore, I beg you to take this extra job of shipment, ship me down stream in your stomach. I know it is too much to ask, but who else is there to ask? Your life and that of mine are now intricately connected."

"I know I cannot swallow you and you cannot swim with these engine-propelled wings," admitted the sightless, legless ant.

"Why can't you swallow me? You've done it before."

"Why can't you swim on your own?" asked the sightless, legless ant.

"You know why I can't!" responded the winged ant.

"No! I don't."

"Well, the engine I have needs constant air ventilation through the perforated, all-round cover, for the wings to flap a quarter of a million times per minute. As you can see under water it will be totally a non-starter."

"Exactly, mine too."

"How do you mean?" asked the winged ant.

"Well, the compartment inside me in which you resided for some time needs to be air ventilated from the bottom side, and as you said under water it will be totally sealed. With these conditions inside, you will suffocate."

"Oh dear! What a coincidence! What are we going to do then?" said the winged super-ant.

"Well, there is one thing we can do at this moment," responded the sightless, legless ant.

"What's that?"

"As you can see, there seems to be a lot of movement by the footsoldiers, rocket launchers and mechanized brigades."

"Oh yes, I can see that. God! There are so many of them. So many mouths of many species, which Mother Nature has to feed. No wonder we have to starve."

"That is another point of interest. Perhaps family planning would be a solution. Could it be?" suggested the sightless, legless ant.

"You are back into this logic of injecting people with some kind of stuff to stop them reproducing at an accelerated speed. Your former masters thought injection was a solution to every problem species might face. One injection for killing opponents, another for breeding, another for reducing breeding, another injection for eliminating undesirable elements, one for love making and another injection for body building and on and on. God, what a contaminated state of affairs our lives have been thrown into? We species should be able to come up with an alternative way of doing things. Furthermore, even if we agreed to continue with our old practices and even if we managed to reproduce at a rate of one and a quarter species per household, the world is still going to be swamped in just a few years time, and that wouldn't be a solution either. It is a futile effort by a futile species wishing to prolong its existence beyond the natural requirement. I tell you, injection or no injection we will vanish at one point in time and in my opinion it would have been better if we do not tamper with the work of nature, especially not with all our ill-conceived and ill-motivated desire to control everything."

"You mean you have no confidence in a new order where super-human knowledge will be put to good and equitable use?"

"For a start, what guarantee do we have that we will reach that stage. 'From each according to his/her abilities to everybody according to his/her needs,' seems to me another way of expressing our trivial greed. Where does that greed or as you put it "need," begin and end? It appears, there will not be any end to it. And how do you think the world's resources will cope? And even if the Universe copes, what guarantee do we have that our way of life, the socio-economic formations of it, will come round full circle, especially following the static physical explanation of the negation of the negation?

"Wheat, after being sown, turns into a stalk, then the stalk is negated by yet more new bunches of wheat. From this it follows, according to our experience, human beings of the land of the despot went through a transformation, into the state of anthood; from ants we are now transformed back into humans. All except you, if you don't mind me saying so.

"All I can see in the new human is naked old greed and where does this lead us? Back in full circle? No, it can't be. For all I know, development, if you can call it development, can take a linear expansion, until it is no longer possible to justify or be justified to exist. Furthermore, if all schools of thinkers believe that ultimately everything has to come to an end, why do you think it is necessary for us to come back full circle but at a higher level of material and spiritual before nature takes its own course?

"No! no, no, my friend such a predestined journey of history is too good to believe. This bit, is an extension of the philosophy of greed and self-centredness. I am sure we could have done better than that if we had had the will. I believe we need no such outlook to lead a better and soundly integrated way of life. But knowing homo sapi-ant beings, I doubt we will ever reach that state. It is a system that requires a lot of sacrifice and a totally different perception of oneself and surroundings. I doubt we will ever achieve that.

"Perhaps we will destroy ourselves and our surroundings before we even contemplate the beginning of a new way of life. That looks to me the likely outcome of our actions. Don't you see homo sapi-ants, mega or miniature, black or white, never mind albinos, all have started looking backwards to the past nostalgically; an indictment of a lack of vision to move forward, either from a point of stagnation or in a fast down-hill retreat.

"In all candour, if we are to survive we have to come up with fresh thinking and see it through thoroughly. Everything we have been made to learn and believe has stuck in our minds like a stain. Until we cleanse ourselves from such dirt, we will not escape from the specter of ultimate destruction.

"Don't get me wrong, I am not fatalistic. When I say all this, I don't mean we all should stop living. No, on the contrary, we should continue struggling to live and use our best faculties to overcome difficulties. The trouble is: are we doing our best to live or cutting our life chord short? Most of us don't even wholly understand the equipment we depend upon to earn our livings. It would be impossible for us to independently recreate them. Technological progress occurs at the margin and it would be hopelessly useless for us to go back right to the beginning and start it all over. In a competitive market structure it is impossible to survive even if we are prepared to do so. Putting aside the injustice of exploitation, we have to depend for the rest of our lives upon those who are able to reproduce technology.

"However, even those who are able to recreate and advance technology, produce the goods way beyond the limit of necessity, just as if they are looting their own homes. Food, water, beverages, what have you, everything is produced in plenty but of second or even third class qualities. They eat and drink all day but get satisfaction of a lesser order and sometimes even the food and water they drink turns foul in taste and poisonous in effect, ultimately causing disfigurement of the consumers' beauty.

" 'To be or not to be' is a problem. Without technology we are doomed to oblivion, with the help of technology we are about to self-defeat ourselves. A case in point is the production of a car that runs one hundred twenty five miles per hour in a nation where speed limit is fifty miles per hours. A waste of creativity and a waste of resource."

"Ok, ok, stop talking big politics now and do something before you end up caught and injected with a dreadful substance, to your dislike," suggested the legless, sightless ant.

"I have an idea," piped the legless, sightless ant.

"What?"

"Why don't we climb the moving bush stuck on the back of a footsoldier me as a kind of worm and you as a butterfly as we make our way out."

"That sounds a good idea. But are you sure these starving soldiers won't eat us if they see us?"

"They would, if they see us. But the idea is to climb the bush unnoticed and travel as far as possible," replied legless, sightless ant.

"But I heard in the hospiprison that they are moving in the direction of the centre. You know, the despot and its entire bureaucratic and military apparatus is caving in. That is why I said they are moving in the direction of the centre, and what if we end up in the middle of the city we've wanted to avoid for all these years? We will be a pie sandwich between eager bread eaters!" the legless, sightless ant replied in remorse.

"Boy! It never occurred to me, that this is a real danger."

"But I tell what, we can still climb the moving bush and get out of the high-security base area, which scares the hell out of us. There, we wait for another bush moving in the opposite direction to the border. That way we can safely reach the coastal area and then you will fly both of us to our temporary destination."

"What guarantee do you have that we will find a bush moving in the opposite direction, towards the coast?"

"I don't have any. But I can say this, and this I think you are equally well aware of if not more than I am. The Antennae-headed nephew, the Albino ant - or what is commonly know as the Termite - has been waging an armed struggle against the despot and against everything done by everybody including the Unicorn-like homo sapi-ant itself. The Unicorn-like, homo-ant feels a little bit embarrassed by all this commotion and at times looks with a condescending eye on whatever the albino ant is up to. Nevertheless, for reasons hidden to the Universal vision, the Unicorn-like ant - also known as the transformed human - seemed to be dedicated to support the cause of the albino at a staggering cost one would struggle to imagine. We will, therefore, see some of the fighting brigades heading to the coast and hopefully we will stand a good chance to catch a moving bush."

"Let us hope you are right," the winged ant stretched its wings and flapped it several times.

"What do you mean: 'let us hope you are right?' I have never lied to you before. How dare you question my integrity?"

"Let's not quarrel now, our fate is interwoven. In any case, I did not mean that you lied to me, but I felt you could have been misinformed. You have not only been used to misinform, misguide and put others in trouble, but also your own soul has suffered from the consequences of your actions. That is why it becomes necessary to sift through the information or disinformation you provide to get the real sense of the matter."

"Thank you for your mistrust after all the trouble I took to swallow you up and spit you out unharmed."

"No, no, I don't mean that. Come off it! I haven't the slightest doubt of your sincerity. I simply want to state that your brain was used and abused by others and you could be suffering from the lag effect of your past experience. You know it happens to everyone and you are not an exception."

"Don't try to be clever with me. You have said it and said it clearly that I am not worthy of trust. I don't intend to quarrel and break away from you right now. The situation does not permit it, but I will make a note of it. You know everyone in this ant world is contaminated. Everyone has got his/her own motive behind every move. If only the Universe could know the motives of all."

"I think you are perfectly entitled to question everyone, but you of all species should not be the judge for all sorts of things."

"Why can't I be?" begged the sightless, legless ant.

"Because you know...."

"I know, I know, you are now going to accuse me for all the killing, maiming, torturing and imprisonment carried out in this place. Well, I will tell you this: I have been following instructions and orders to do my duty as a citizen, infallible and divine instructions which must be obeyed, so we were told. The church priest, the army general, the qualified professional, the skilled artist, the poet, the writer, the musician, the orator, all of the highest esteem, the footsoldier and the ordinary street species, all of them fully subscribe to the rule of the instructions and orders given to them as well; none, including you, provided an alternative route. So, species with consciences of a higher order could not evolve, and now you blame me for serving it? As far as I am concerned, I was serving myself. What could I have done? What could I have eaten? How could I have supported my family, although I was at best a mystery to them?. All they cared for was, just like the rest, the Queen and the Greater Family."

"God! What a life," continued the legless and sightless ant. We are constantly asked to move on a march, a march a speed of which we have no direct personal control over. All the time marching and preaching; all the time on our toes to guard against the threat from within as well as the threat from outside. That's the life of a guerilla; too much is expected from us, with not even a fleeting moment to make an error of judgement. It is a life on the knife's edge, with no mercy from even your own masters and the enemy who constantly hovers around us. We have a liberated area which we don't even fully control, nor does the enemy.

"We have callouses all over our fingers from writing, parched throats, tongues dried and scraped against the walls of our throats from constant talking. We are either carrying guns or writing or talking. No moment to rest and reflect. No moment to think about sweet, little trivialities, only the great cause. No life of your own for your own desires.

"What will become of our children? Like me, they have known only this world. Like me, they don't recall the time of my parents and their parents, a time when people paid their taxes but got security in return. When the rains didn't fail as often as they seem to now, when there wasn't any war and famine and the sky was predictable. Our thinking, our movement and all our activities are predestined and controlled by the system. Legless spies, winged sparrow spies! What a time to live in? You destroy one system just to replace it with another system which turns out to be just as repressive as the one we dropped out of."

"Ok ok! I have heard your grumbling. We can talk about this too, sometime in the future, if there is any future."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, for a start, we have to be able to get out of this place safely, and I see a problem right now."

"What?"

"How do we climb on the moving bush without touching the body of and attracting the attention of the footsoldier?"

"I think you are trying to pull my leg."

"You haven't got the damn less for me to pull!"

"Very funny!! you live in your own little world to joke at a moment like this," the legless, sightless ant replied in anger.

I am expecting you to fly us across the ocean and here you are standing in front of me retreating into an incredible self-defeat to accomplish a task as small as this. Of course, you are going to stretch your wings straight and lift off and land on top of the moving bush."

"You don't understand! There is radar installed everywhere controlling the air space."

"Eh! Listen! They are coming close. What are we going to do?"

"Pretend you are a worm and I will try as hard as I can to look like a leaf, a dead gray leaf."

"Are you kidding! Me, pretending to be a worm? They love it, man! They will have me on the plate and devour me in a split second! I don't know about you, but even then dry or not dry they will shred and make a meal out of you too. This species of ours eats anything it happens to come across. No, no. That was not a wise idea."

"Well, God damn it! Tell me what is a wise idea then at this moment of urgency?"

"Radar or no radar, take me on board and lift off and land on that moving bush heading in the right direction, you spineless twit, big-headed speculator."

"Alright! Alright, pull together your limp body and hop on my back, and make sure you hold tight....."

Chapter Five

"Get up! you squirming, creeping, wobbly worm, it is time to go to Hyde Park."

"Don't you dare call me a worm. I am what I am just as much you are what you are as a result of that crazy adventure we took as a wartime necessity. And I have made this trip, of course, partly to help you and partly to see myself restored to the being I was in the original time. When I say this, I mean all beings restored to the beginning of time," exclaimed the sightless, legless ant, in the guise of a worm.

"It is a waste of time dreaming of prior-clock time with the hope that you will return to its beginning. It will never happen. One cannot turn back the clock of time. Haven't you ever heard that?" queried the winged ant.

"Funny you should say that. To look forward to bringing a time where limitless greed can be quenched in a worldly Nirvana is a dream of the loser, whose effort can at best only postpone their eventual destruction. It is a question of buying time. And how resourceful do you think beings are to go on buying time?"

"Now you start talking about something I've never heard of before. Maybe it is the beginning of a change. Who knows? Maybe you will develop sight, even though going back in time appears to be an impossible task to realize. In any case, get dressed and let us get moving, its getting late.

"Ants, semi-ants, albinos, monster homo sapi-ants, unaltered homo sapiens of Humdrum and conscious antennae-headed ants with a horn that of a unicorn," Then he paused and started addressing them all over again. "Ants, semi-ants, monster homo-ants, albinos, unaltered, unreformed white homo sapiens and legless worm-like ants lend me your ears."

"That's better. I thought you were going to leave me out," said sightless, legless ant.

"How could I, my only friend..." before finishing the sentence somebody from the back shouted:

"There is only one worm in here and from the look of it, it is in a pretty bad shape. Is it even worthy of calling it a worm?"

"Allow me to call you 'my friend'. No, you are mistaken, there are at the back, behind you, millions of worms ready to listen and probably to be listened to."

And when everybody turned their heads back, in response to his statement, they saw the whole green field covered with earthworms, half of their bodies out from their burrows standing erect, turning the field in to purple colour, as if covered with young beetroot shoots. Simultaneously, everybody made a roaring sound of bewilderment, and turned their faces to the speaker standing on a soap box in anticipation.

"Well, go on, what are you waiting for, we are freezing to death in this bloody cold weather," said a regular customer of the park. From the look of it, this one appears to be an alien permanent resident, clenching and releasing his fists, when a point-scoring speech is made against the unaltered, untransformed homo sapiens.

"Hyena turned vegetarian, opportunists acclaimed altruists, eleventh hour desperate heroism intensified."

"There he goes again," someone from the crowd cried.

"How do you mean?" said a sparrow sitting on a branch right above the speaker. Apparently, the sparrow moves from branch to branch listening to speaker after speaker and then it takes a long flight into the woods behind the building to a destination nobody knows.

"Funny old world; the things we hate the most are happening again. And this makes one wonder how weak, or more appropriately wicked, we the children of Zora, the God of the Volcano, the burned faces, indeed are! Many, many years ago, ill-prepared groups of burned faces with ill-conceived ideas rushed back home, to Damera, from the very spot I am standing today to preach their gospels. As it turned out to be, their gospels had little or no relevance to the situation of Damera, the legendary land of the "Promises". Furthermore, their gospel lacked authenticity, imagination and universality. To cut short a long story, it was like American-style media evangelism, engineered to fatten one's own pocket and rear end! However, as a media-nourished evangelist outgrows his/her priesthood gown, and eventually renders oneself disservice; our black-burned rush-back-home evangelists landed in the bottom valley of Universal history, now a perished fossilized species.

"Having witnessed such a bad landing, one would have hoped that never again burned faces, no matter in what form they have re-emerged, would repeat this mistake which led to an incalculable loss of human, semi-human, monster-ant, homo-ant lives, as well as an ecological, material and spiritual loss.

"And yet, it appears (I cannot believe my senses) we are at it again! Just as it was in the past, and at full scale: applauding victors, condemning vanquished, discarding the weak, embracing the strong, accepting wrong as right, and right as wrong, deleting history, rewriting a false story, showing the back as the front and the front as a corner side, talking big, doing small, championing socialism and dropping it like a bad idea, re-embracing capitalism and dropping it too, then socialism again and again dropping it, then on to Japanism and dropping it, feudo-capitalism and drop, drop; marching left right, left right, left right, left right, then right left..right left, sideways, move, move, moving to nowhere.

"This is history. The history of nowhere and everywhere. This is your contribution. The species of the land of "Promises," are grateful to you. They will praise you, of course they will! Wherever they are, from the land of the "Promises," the graves, clay beds, under the trees, the bottom of the sea, from inside a crocodile's belly and even from the barrel of the gun where they have taken refuge but just to discover to their horror that this refuge shelter is as fatally dangerous as the open land your exploits have left behind!"

Another bird of a different size and colour, Robin, crash landed on the branch next to the sparrow. "God! What the hell are you doing here? You were supposed to report to the Centre ages ago."

"Sorry", replied the sparrow. "I should have left, but this devil right below you came up with some juicy stuff which I have never heard before and his message has caught my attention. He says there was an original species, which he calls human, talks of an unwritten history, and criticises everybody including himself for bringing about the situation everybody is in now..."

Then, Robin made an acrobatic jump before the sparrow had finished what she wanted to say and landed in front the speaker for a closer glimpse. Shortly, however, he was overwhelmed by a sort of hypnotic state, possibly due to fatigue caused by his several shuttles on and off the Park, during which he sometimes encountered unexpected events which he had to report and then deal with instantaneously, and so in this trance he began to snore.

"...We know the despot has fallen, but to bow to an organization which has claimed the lives of its own founders and many thousands more of its ordinary members... an organization, who with its longtime best friends, has stared into each other's eyes and drawn swords, slitting each other's throat, insisting in its own democratic, universal nature, says it is worth following, this is to invite the species of the land of "Promises" to write its own death sentence!

"Of course those of you who are exiled, with burned faces, you wise creatures would do that. All you care about is the advantage you get for yourselves! And even getting that, you may not be clever enough.

"This organization of which I speak has not for the last years given those in the land of the "Promises" any form of universal democracy, even the simple, basic freedom to express their views, let alone to organize and form independent political, economic, cultural, social and gender-specific organizations. This organization is now accepted as a mother organ to implement democracy in the whole of the Universe!

"This is an organization which has assumed the position of sole proprietor of the land of the "Promises," eliminating anyone who insists to exist independently, disagreeing with its policies and principles, as long as one is a member of the tribe of the land of the "Promises" and lives within its domain. Furthermore, with the help of the Almighty God of the Orange Sea - the nomadic, aphrodisiac, the God of love, beauty, sex and hatred - this omnipotent organization has managed to establish subservient and functionary sub-organizations as vehicles to accomplish its monopolistic control and propagate that everything is blissful in the land of the "Promises"; whatever the species want and everything these "heroic" species deserve is given to them appropriately by the God Almighty of the land of the "Promises" Liberation Front, the saviour, the omnipotent, the one and only God of socialism! Sorry capitalism. No, I beg your pardon: socio-capito-feudalism. Whatever the correct technical name, it was put into effect by his earthly messenger, Wilke Hade Nazrawi and his close military and pseudo-political adviser, Anterom, Lord of Farma, the land of the white sand, where bullets grow on trees and fall like hail, just about knocking everyone down. This lord, the brother-in-law of the God of the Orange Sea, the God of mountains, the valleys, the wadis, is in fact the master of all maids, harems, the guardian of malaria, small-pox, scabies and the disease between the legs near the bum. Oh! Lord, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost be with him. Amen. The Land of the Promises Liberation Front is a front truly loyal to its creator, elder brother of the God of the Orange Sea. It was created and the God of Land of Promises was appointed as the governor to serve a functionary purpose.

"Wedi demu iayegedef gebibre uemu," A pussycat instinctively learns the codes of behaviour of its mother. True to its own creation the Liberation Front of the Land of the Promises has created other subservient international organizations. And it is hoped to get good dividends from the such organizations, just as much as it had paid to its creators.

"The rush-back-home evangelists can't believe their luck. For the last so many odd years they have been studying Bombology, Thiefology, Consumology, Exploitology, Fuckology and Showoffology; they are now doing everything they can to impress their emerging masters. Wearing safari and they say, 'Oh! oh! It is too cold for one used to a typical temperate weather;' carrying a bag, sometimes too heavy and there is not much use wandering around the whole day, and its weight nearly breaks one's arm; wearing a necktie, they look odd among the simpleton species of the Land of the Promises; beret on, then they find that too is out of place, out of history; decorating a bold head with a reddish artificial birthmark, the poor guy is in trouble, it is no longer appealing to the masses; going fishing...fishing! It looks like it! Mr. Bush. Invite party, tell a story...

"They do anything to make themselves appear fit to guide the species of the Land of the Promises. The moment has come and they jump without hesitation on the bandwagon Flight No. Tupperari 707, wing commander, pilot Weritrea, Co-pilot Axumtra, with steward Gondershora. While 707 is in mid-flight, there appears to be air turbulence and passengers fastened their belts with regret that they ever embarked on this journey. God bless 707. It has yet to be established how safely they will reach the Land of the Promises.

"Oh! God be with us. We are your humble followers; we do not know all this complicated universal politicking. We are simple creatures of a simple species. In any case, we have no say in anything. We do what we are told to do. We go where we are told to go. We eat only what we are given to eat. We are told things are done for us by others with the best intentions. The trouble is, we have this itching, we no longer believe what is said and done. Because we used to say that everything is going to be alright, but it never was. However, still there are many million simpleton species who would simply go on, years on end believing them. Even my daughter when she was taken to "Seol" (hell) and they burned her privates, she felt privileged and liberated. Some will continue to jump into the burning fire shouting, 'freedom, liberation, death in order to live longer! Die now, enjoy eternal happiness. Long live the comrades, and indulgence and orgies for our God-chosen angel leaders.'

"Some argue that simpletons should die for the causes of the seductive leaders, and allow them their sexual pleasure of sleeping with comrade Nicaraguans, Palestinians, leftist or even rightist blondies, whities, Swedish, Norwegian, English, Germanic mermaids for the sake of all of us.

"Told one angel comrade in a red beret to another angel in black, 'When you sleep with a German, it feels as if you are making love to the Deutschmark and it gives you a double sexual pleasure like a sort of sexo-politico-economic military orgasm.' In turn, the second comrade told of his experience with a Japanese girl - while on tour to receive dried fish donations for the desperate of the Land of the Promises. Apparently, she tried to make love to him with laser beam; he expressed that it felt as if his bum went boom, boom, boomboom-boom. A third angel in a green beret told the group of the three women he had met and that as far as he was concerned, it did not really matter if the women were blond, mousy brown, red, black or with golden hair as long as they were white, professional, middle class, liberated and married! He gets the utmost pleasure by planting anti-personnel, anti-white male mines and missiles deep inside the wombs of his victims/lovers/victors and seeing those bastard white males die like flies between the legs of his booby traps. That way he feels his anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist, anti-north mission accomplished.

"A fourth person sitting at a distance holding an AK 47, his back facing the angels, gave a silent smile upon hearing the conversation of the masters, remembering his own experience with a soiled, untouched, unprotected local virgin girl, by the grassy side of a river bank, whom he had raped. Well sort of; she agreed, if you know what I mean, the holder of the AK 47 was himself an AK 47: hot, fiery and overwhelming. He represented everything and she could hardly disagree with that: the U.S. dollar, Visa, Passport, seductive look, power and corn flakes.

"Species of the Hyde Park! Listeners! Lend me your ears."

Having returned to the original branch for a broader view, the multicoloured bird perched next to the sparrow concluded to his neighbour: "Well! What more can I say? There you have it. You have laid a carpet and have slept on it, as far as I can tell. What more do you want, borrowed ears?"

"You bet! I told you, you would enjoy it," replied the sparrow.

Chapter Six

"Continue, continue," said the alien permanent resident angrily clenching and releasing his right hand.

"Thank you. An organization which initially outlawed itself - if there has ever been any law in that God damn place of ours - and started its gun-mounted, cool, black twit/popstar's type of walking in the forest, which actually looks like the rocky area of the Land of the Promises, with the intention of liberating the Republic of the Universe. The Land of the Promises Liberation Front went about doing its business piously, industriously, fiercely and at times heroically and started mapping the areas it had in its control and intended to parade. The Front continued until it was told by the Almighty God of the Orange Sea, the patron of the fish and the snails, to stop behaving childishly, for God has no limit and should not be confounded to an area as small as the forehead of a grown up, bearded mountain goat, "Gembar Weteito".

"The Universe is God, and God is the Universe and the chosen people led by his prophet, Wilke Hade Nazrawi, the messenger of the one and only God fights for not one nation, though he believes in one, but for all nations, fights for no mapping but for all mapping, for everything and nothing, for a boundless bottomless pit.

"The messenger, God bless him, mobilized the original species, and chanting the slogan he picked up, "The species of the Land of the Promises, the oppressed nation of the oppressed tribe," he sparked and set alight their land, saying it shall perish, shall be sacrificed for everything and nothing, for the boundless Universe, bottomless pit, for the Almighty God, the instructor, and the guardian of the heavenly gate and the watery gate, the bridge to the fish world and the oil slick. And the old wound of the original tribe, the Tupperaris of the chosen homo-ant species, which the messenger Wilke Hade Nazrawi has scratched and soothed shall remain open. Open to lice, mice, termites, Albino termites, bacteria, and dust swimming in hot, red and white juicy puss, until the day of judgement.

"An organization which has fought tooth and nail, repelled and repelling all forms of right, centre, and left, national, local, international and universal organizations as impure, non-populist, uncommon, not down-to-earth and not poor as it once had been (at least at the beginning, before the arrival of the Mega white currencies - sweat money with which to buy eggs and fatten the belly and buy much more: including white girls from the Mega tribes), suddenly, after the downfall of the despot, became democratic. Hyena turned vegetarian!

"An organization which not only penalized the simpleton homo-ant species of the Land of Promises by death, to be hanged by the neck, shot by a firing squad at the edge of a burrow dug by the victims, pushed off the cliff, fined exorbitant fees for speaking for pleasure the language of the forgone masters (as the simpletons now have new masters), or for providing drinking water for the feeble garrison of Zombi, the dead army of the dead general of the dead sea of the dead liberation front, the EPRTP. An organization which taught the species of the Land of the Promises to hate, now tells them to love. An organization which taught them to kill now tells them to care for and look after the dead of the dead. An organization which allowed no word spoken now dances to the tune of the language of the dead. An organization which was naming names, now marries the three-legged, suddenly-going-human animal.... the hyena, now a grass-eater, vegetarian.

"It began calling all: hyenas, humans, semi-human, sub-humans, monster ants, homo-ants, albino-ants, and all parties, all bloody organizations including the Cyclone Derg, the one-off from the dead of the dead: 'Come!! Let us join hands and fucking tear up this place into a well-worked out division of the loot of socialism, capito-socialism, feudo-socio-militarism. Long live the heroic species, everyone, march left-right, right-left, right-right, left-left, right-right-right, forward, forward-back-back, stop. Aim, shoot, kill, wound, march, march right, right left. Join hands, loop, move, jump, jump, release hands, aim shoot, kill the person in front, twist and break the arm of the person behind.'

"The blood stained genie, the aberration of Bahetawi, God be with him, desperately needed supporting hands of other genies even from a far distance, as far as the land of the fairies, to absolve his guilt and cleanse the blood from his stained hands, in return for good ministerial posts in "Meseiet" new born Universal Dreamland, Hallalulla, Hajawaja.

"The messenger, Wilke Hade Nazrawi, spoke and the evangelists reiterated the Seventh Commandment: 'It is alright to make mistakes, well, several mistakes and even go on making mistakes, serious mistakes, because when they are discovered by the local Tupperaris or international Palasta, Nicara, Albana, you the Apostles appologise and state that the mistakes are now rectified.'"

"Gee! What a devil!" exclaimed the alien permanent resident.

"What's wrong about that?" retorted angrily the apostle Damo, God be with him.

Suddenly there arose a wave of ear-deafening murmuring from the distant field, which was covered with a new crop of beetroot, and all the species rotated their heads in the direction of the sound.

"Shut up you...you slimy, spinless, legless, stinking spaghettis...," shouted an angry Damo.

"Do you mind? Do you insult everybody who does not happen to fit your definition of a proper body texture?" replied the legless ant.

"Leave them alone, they are the worms, the children of the soil. You can't kill them twice, and even if you try, this time it will be twice as impossible. For a start, they have now dug their own holes which can serve as a trench if need be and they are in alien land, just as you are, and therefore granted protection against intruders. As for the rest of audience, if you must know, these worms are dead homo sapiens, homo sapi-ants, homo-ants, killed by the despots, recreated, with their skilled abilities to move underground," clarified the alien permanent resident.

The earthworms looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

The rush-back-home evangelists looked at the earthworms and when they saw their reactions, they went (it is unbelievable) literally bizarric, and one of them jumped on his feet and yelled: "It is alright to make mistakes, even serious mistakes and then declare them rectified!!"

"Excuse me, what do they mean when they say rectified? Does it mean they will retrieve the dead persons from the graves whom they have killed for the mistaken judgements now they claim they have rectified? I knew it! Really, the Apostles and their leader, messenger Wilke Hade Nazrawi is a free and true representative of the Almighty God of the mountains and the valleys," said one simpleton species of the Land of the Promises near Tupperari, sent temporarily to Humdrum for reasons even unclear to himself.

"No! No!" an evangelist seated nearby spoke in irritation, "They mean they have now learned from the mistakes and won't do it to anyone again, even to you or the three-legged animal sort of homo sapi-ant."

"'Go! Go as far as you can, by land, by see, by air, as far as you can see and as far as you can touch and teach the fallible. I ask you my apostles, the infallible,' Wilke Hade Nazrawi preached.

"'Furthermore, talk of a distant land', Wilke Hade Nazrawi continued," continued the speaker the winged ant himself, 'What happened to the Head of the Department of Agriculture, who was sent sky-high to discuss with the Seventh planet heavenly God, of the Land of Zagra, about matters concerning the volume of rainfall and the unit price he charges us every bloody rainy and messy summer? We need to settle the accounting badly before another load of payment breaks our backs. 'The trouble is', Messenger Wilke Hade Nazrawi murmured, 'the Head of the Department has not come yet. What could happen? God be with him, Amen. God damn me! What am I talking? He is already with him. I hope he is not playing some funny thing with him. If he does, I will kill him. You bet I will kill him for the second time. Doesn't he care that the Shewarta Agricultural Project is unduly delayed? It has in turn already led to further complications for the water rationing programme, repayment of loans from the proceeds to the God merchant of Zagra.

"'Perhaps', said Wilke Hade Nazrawi, 'the Lord of the sheep, the supreme ruler of the homo-ants, the guardian of the death and starvation, one of you, perhaps the head of the Department of the Security should go and ask the organizations Kill the Father Save the Orphan, Butcher the Oxen, War if You Want, Unorthodox Believer Aid Agency, all four of them, even some more to give you enough money to cover your space flight to Heaven and Hell and see what on earth those two, God and homo-ant species are doing. If they are in serious business don't interrupt; simply stay in the guesthouse until you see fit to interfere.

"'By the way, when every possible solution in our favour is achieved, please don't bother coming back. We will perhaps meet there, and God knows, we may even start afresh to liberate the soul of the Tupperaris. I think we have failed them to save their mortal bodies, largely due to many factors we were ill-equipped to deal with. However, once we succeed in liberating the soul of the Tupperaris, we will make a deal with the Black-Hole, not on its terms, but on our own terms, not to suck us, but to suck the sucker: the suckers of the sucker we are! Aren't we comrade Security?'

"'Oh yes Wilke Hade Nazrawi!'"

The speaker, the winged super homo-ant then continues, "My friends, my enemies, there is nothing wrong making mistakes, even serious mistakes, if you like, and forced or otherwise to rectify the messy mistakes one makes. But, and this is a big but, understand? An organization which has made several mistakes and admits them all, can be pardoned and allowed to join the family of all. But, the same organization which has made several mistakes, killed thousands, arrested and vanquished many more, for its own mistaken ideas and deeds cannot and should not conceivably be empowered to lead a unit of a household, let alone the people of nations!

"How are we to believe that it won't revert back to its old style of management, involving the killings of whoever happens to be in its way, when the going gets tough? Even if it turns out to be the Lamb of Abraham, its history is the history of violence, of the killing and gagging of innocent people, never mind of those who confronted it.

"Right now, while talking peace with you, it is violating the tranquility of the local and international species. To talk of peace is to pull your leg and make a mockery of everyone involved, which gives it a kind of oral-sexual-militaristic pleasure.

"God damnit you! Wake up or don't wake up, sleep, sleep deep otherwise wake up! Fly beyond the horizon of your imagination. Don't fear to die, die. Or don't die, live.

"Exiled, yes. Rejected, abused, yes. Dejected, wasting your life in mental and physical squalor? Sympathy to you all. But rushing back home just to find yourself looking back eagerly to leave again, in admiration of your wasted life in the squalor. No! That is wicked! There must be other way out. Tightened your belts, fight for your rights and the rights of those unable to do so for themselves, Don't give in for benefits as little as a speck of a crumb. Demand for a complete democratic life, not from anyone nor by anyone but as your natural inalienable right. Thank you", the engine-propelled winged ant (flyer) concluded.

Chapter Seven

"Man, or whatever you are, what is wrong with a good group of intelligent and revolutionary species leading the rest of the folks, instead of, as you suggest, every one of us asking for our democratic rights? It would be totally chaotic if everyone got whatever they want. Wouldn't it? Could it be because you are left out of the rat race, and you perhaps feel jealous of those in better positions, that you decided to travel such a long distance to make such a loud nose? Furthermore, isn't this democracy you talk about, with such infatuation, the root cause of so much of the world's suffering today?" said one homo sapi-ant dressed in a hat and a long black coat, which almost covered his knuckles, and who introduced himself as a visitor and a scholar of the black ant world.

"I am sorry if my noise has irritated you. I thought you and your group's love of noise was your hallmark; correct me if I am wrong, but don't you live off of noise? Could it be...? It is tempting to say that you are jealous that someone, unauthorized in your view, has used noise to attract a crowd to tell about the relative truth of something as they stand now.

"To take your last point first: I am sorry; perhaps I did not make myself clear. When I say democracy, I did not mean the kind of democracy of the shop keepers and their political and military representatives you see around. I am sure everyone here is aware that you and your group are the beneficiaries of such kind of democracy. Their's is a democracy everybody, except the rulers, has to strictly follow. Private property is everybody's right; no-one should violate that right, while the rulers are permitted to go around encroaching on everyone else's. This includes rapping the inner-self of the defenceless. It is a democracy where the untransformed, unaltered species feel they are superior both in number and colour and should rule everyone else permanently, ironically even in places where they are outnumbered. When the set of rules they have promulgated as an essential means to rule democratically, are no longer operational in some places, they come up with alternative explanations of why it is necessary for them to rule undemocratically. The reason they give is this: counting was done at the beginning of time and that counting which gave the untransformed species dominance should remain divine. So they say, they are the legitimate rulers even where they are in the minority.

"This, my friend, is a vulgar democracy, number game devoid of any meaningful purpose. There is no rational correlation between fairness, justice and truth and majority rule. For all I know, truth has always been championed by a persecuted few amidst a bullying majority who rule by force. The rule of democracy should invariably reflect the stance of the minority as well as that of the majority. In a situation where the majority violates the rights of the minority, the minority should exercise its inalienable rights to form its own opinion and dictate its own destiny.

"Democracy should be a way of life. And must be seen as such. It should be in the blood, in the way of thinking and acting. In the cultural, political, social, economic and psychological make up of the individual, group of individuals and the nation of individuals. Furthermore, in a situation where the majority perpetually rapes the rights of the minority, it, by the same token, equally degrades the majority in whose name the banner of democracy is raised. Absence of democracy for one is absence of democracy for all!

"No no, those who claim to be democrats, in today's world are as much demagogues as those who claim to be socialists. How could it be? I'll tell you: when a wealthy crook can buy his freedom and is allowed to continue destroying the lives of defenceless people in the name of democracy. How could it be the rule of democracy when the economic life of the multitudes is monopolized in the hands of a few, most of whose code of life is no better than a petty crook? Isn't this rule of economic tyranny as bad as or even worse than political tyranny?

"How do you reconcile political liberalism with the economic dictatorship of the few, without one giving way to the other? Make no mistake, in the affairs of today economic dictatorship unequivocally overrides political liberalism. If we are to survive and complete our natural cycle of tenancy on this Earth, we had better do some serious thinking and drop this competitive outlook of feeling pleased at the downfall of the polar bear at one time, and the misfortune of the Eagle for breaking its neck while trying to snatch its pray from a cage. No no, homo sapiens shouldn't be short sighted and admire the acrobatic flight command and the wisdom of trickery of the Eagle nor the bullying brute force of the Polar Bear. We cannot afford such things any longer. Time is running out and we all may end up in the bottomless pit which some have been unfortunate to have witnessed already.

"No, I am not talking of nuclear destruction, although that may also be a possibility. I am talking of internal death followed by the physical death. The inability to do what once was possible, and drop like a speck of a dust in a desert.

"Look around. Any group which has imposed its convictions on others claims to embrace the spirit of democracy. In order to by-pass the essence of democracy, they say, they apply the principle of democratic-centralism to run worldly and heavenly affairs. The truth of the matter is: no-one can possibly be a democrat and a centralist at the same time. One is either a democrat or a centralist. The concept of democratic-centralism, as one and the same thing - as the two sides of a coin - from an operational point of view is a tautology, a point which the believers of such a concept hardly understand.

"The two sides of a coin are sides of a physical object statically related which cannot be altered if the shape of the coin is to be maintained. Democracy and centralism are concepts of social phenomena, concepts of no physical existence but dynamically related in such a way as to be altered to any degree at any time. An outcome of physical objects, which are in a static relationship which can't be altered, cannot be used to explain the dynamically related concepts of democracy and centralism.

"We have seen and witnessed, often with helplessness, the suffering and ultimately eradication of many lives under such shabby excuses as: "Revolution devours its own sons". I mean, what kind of logic is this? Why did the world accept such excuses to enable the rulers to get rid of some members of the species? What a shoddy way of dealing with worldly affairs! If one asks oneself, 'Why should a revolution devour its own sons and daughters?', what possible explanation could there be, apart from greed, sadism and feeble mindness? And yet for all the trivialities our leaders, both right and left, have been continually kicking each other's teeth, as well as ours! In their endless squabbling to maintain the grips of power, we, the ordinary species, have been like the suffering grass between two fighting elephants.

"No no to the rule of one group, one individual, even the Heavenly God, who is also prone to corruption, brutality, complacence, decadence, impotence and dereliction. The system which generates the rule of one person, often with a complicated means of disguises to cover up its true nature, is in turn perpetrated by the very same person whose source of glory depends on the system. A monolithic system which creates a ruling person whose physical and imaginative movements are nontransparent, unpredictable and unreadable to his subjects; as dark as a night in a forest, as muddy as a river bed stirred up by horses hooves'. A person with compartmentalized personalities - one public the other private, one for men the other for women, one for the villains the other innocents, all kept in the closet ready to be worn when appropriate. Come to think, the promises we were offered before... Well, invariably all promises are now abandoned, substituted by lies, damned lies perpetrated by a reign of terror. We live in a world of broken promises, broken earth, broken hearts, broken homes, broken backs, broken arms and broken legs. That is what we are left with. We would like to see this changed if we are to survive another day. Forget the dream of eternity; we have to leave that to the chance of probability."

"What? What happened? Did you record everything this devil had said? Are all the cameras on the trees on? Did you report to the headquarter" enquired the semi-coloured bird, Robin, after waking up from its midday nap for the second time, this time perching on a branch next to the sparrow.

"Excuse me Sir. I would like to ask you few questions", said the semi-coloured bird.

"By all means, please do," said the winged ant-human.

The sparrow got very excited, for the talking of the semi-coloured bird will be seen as the involvement of the birds' community in a dialogue for the enhancement of science and culture.

"Well, it is not a question. It is rather a comment."

"Whatever it is, please continue."

"When species of your skin colour come to this place for short or long stays, I know because the nature of my work (and I could say I am lucky for that) puts me on the forefront to witness it all, the bronze skins face many problems. The colour of their skin and the problems it entails put aside,..." the coloured bird was then interrupted by another bird, totally camouflaged and refusing to reveal its true identity while perching on a tree opposite the other birds.

"What is wrong about the colour of the skin?" it enquired.

"Is there any specific skin colour requirement to enter the kingdom of God? Is there anything which indicates that the bronze skin colour loves rejection and punishment inflicted upon it? In the name of the Earth, which we all depend upon, how dare you pillage the home, the family and the lives of bronze skin colours!"

"Thank you, I was going to mention that too, but you have now said it in words greater than mine. But, to add to this, there is something I would like to mention. The bronze skin colour is not only undermined by other skin colour bearers, but by the bronze skin colour bearers themselves...."

The semi-coloured bird, Robin, was interrupted by the alien permanent resident who implored the camouflaged bird to continue its speech.

"It is true, as Robin has suggested, take for example, the very many bronze colour skin community organizations operating in Humdrum. For a start, the bronze colour skin members manifest a greed culture no better than the bearers of other skin colours, if anything it is even worse. It combines the worst aspects of all the greeds of all skin colours. I must qualify my statement though. I am not sure whether these bronze colour skins amidst the other skin colours residing in Humdrum are a genuine reflection of the bronze skinned tribes. In fact, correct me if I am wrong, all the bronze skins standing here today, including the Orator, standing in front of us, if you don't mind me saying so, are sons and daughters of well-to-do bronze families, who try very hard to peel away the bronzeness of their skin and acquire a new colour. Whether the new colour they want to be wrapped up with is for the love of the new colour itself or for expediency, no one can tell. For all the time they stayed in the land of Bronze, they have never really felt a part of the Bronze tribes. They have never shared the suffering of the tribes to which they claim they belong, by design of nature and not by will.

"Well, each one of us here is not what we are by will, especially the skin wrapping us. What is troubling my soul most is this: these bronze skins currently residing in Humdrum, who to a large extent, are responsible for the suffering of the multitudes of the Bronze tribes, yet claim that they themselves are victims of the suffering of the Bronze tribes! Bronze community organizations and the false claimant sufferers, plea soft-hearted Humdrumers for money and sympathy. These people have been leading relatively good lives amidst the genuine sufferers and now they are also leading a good life, financed by others, which includes their limitless and reckless use of our broken public phone, the bills for which they don't have to pay.

"They lived amidst the sufferers until the last minute, scooping, snatching, raping and grabbing everything that can be scooped, snatched, raped and grabbed, and then scoot to another world, just to do the same. They wreck their own home and they are now preparing themselves to wreck another land. A group which has no concern for another group will not have concern for its own group, including its members of its own family or vice-versa. Take for example, the Bronze community organizations, especially that of the coastal and central Bronze tribes. They take money from the governments of Humdrum in the name of the sufferers and pseudo sufferers and use the money to run chains of hostels and restaurants and who knows, drug centres. To make matters even look uglier, they use the pseudo sufferers as pawns and extort the Humdrum government to give more money, ironically to finance their own private enterprises.

"There is something wicked going on too. This probably requires the hands of both government corrupt officials and Bronze community organizations. Government money is paid out for an alleged bronze skinned victim only if the victim agrees to lodge in the rundown, damp, squalor chain of hostels owned by the Bronze community organizations or their henchmen. In such hostels, six to eight people are forced to live together in a room the size of a lower-middle class Humdrum family kitchen but with a rent payment equivalent to that of six or eight spacious rooms. We have today many people from the Bronze community organizations rich enough to finance their own army to coerce, mute and crush open minded people who raise their voices in defence of the truth. These days we are told that these are the people who will invest money in the land of the Bronze tribes to revitalize the economies after years of destruction. What a tragedy! After all this bloodshed, after all it is to set up an economy of thieves and sons of thieves. This we know, but in Gods name who has given us the right to pillage and ruined the skin and lives of Bronze tribes." concluded the unknown bird.

"I have nothing to add. Ladies and gentlemen, give an applaud for Mr...or Miss Universe, I can't tell for sure," concluded the winged homo-ant in turn.

"Tell him or her to uncover his or her face," shouted one.

"It is not time yet," said another.

"Is the camouflaged bird telling us that everybody who came here to this place, including yourself, are all bums, with no legitimate reasons, but to wreck this place you call Humdrum?" asked the permanent alien resident, still clenching and releasing his fists.

"Most certainly not! There are some who have run away to save their lives, ending up here; they are the true political entities who deserve respect and protection. However, the reality is different; true political entities who have run for their lives have either failed to escape, or if they did, they are still stuck in the neighbouring lands of yet other despots. Two truly political homo-ants, whom I know of, managed to escape from the grip of the despotic unicorn like homo-ant and landed in a neighbouring nation: the tragedy is that one of them who could no longer bear the burden of injustice took his own life, while the other to date is slaving as a dishwasher, far removed from his previous high-status occupation.

"On the other hand, the governments of Humdrum encouraged, directly or indirectly, characters who are called bums to freely enter their domains. I say directly encouraged, maybe in the hope that one day these characters will be of some use to the governments of Humdrum, when they go back home (if they ever do go home). Even if they don't, they can cause enough problems to the governments unfriendly to Humdrum. Others move in indirectly encouraged by the Humdrum governments, through corrupt officials selling visas and passport. Whatever the case, bums move in at a time and place of their own choice. Time and resources are at the bum's disposal. They make a move when they are absolutely certain that they can break through the Customs barrier and enter safely: they avoid uncertainty and only make a move when the Customs barriers are at their weakest link. When West Humdrum is unwelcoming, they go to the East and when that too fails, they go to Central Humdrum.

"On the other hand, true political entities desperately seeking protection have neither time nor resources at their disposal to save their skins! They choose no time, nor any particular place, in their attempts to salvage their lives. All too often, however, they are turned down, denied entry and subsequently deported back into the hands from which they had fled. Compare this with the Humdrum's grievances of too many refugees among its citizenry! What refugees! These people are Humdrum's own products of their former exploits. Humdrum has never been a safe haven for the truly genuine refugees! Denial of true political entities is yet another sore on the ass of a bedridden troubled world."

The winged human-ant stepped down from the soap box, feeling mission accomplished. Then a voice rang out from the crowd: "Hang on, why are you stepping down? You haven't told us the full story why you are here in this land. It is easy to pretend that you are clean while others are guilty of everything you can think of. Isn't it the case that you flew all the way to have a good time, you know, boozing and messing around with what you call 'unaltered homo sapiens females'?" sarcastically expressed the homo-ant in a hat and long coat.

"I wish you were right. We would have been too lucky for it to be true. However, you know only too well that my friend, the legless, sightless ant and I had been ordered, right at the age of puberty to deposit our sex organs in a store, just like many other, probably including you, for so many years and had it not for the war time reproduction programme, even then some of us had a lousy experience, no wonder after such a long period of neglect the bloody thing couldn't even be of any use as efficient as possible for peeing let alone for earthly pleasure, we might have forgotten the use of it all together. Our sex life, you could say is totally killed off. Furthermore, after the completion of the project some homo-ants, including me and my friend were told to redeposit the organs again and we were not able to recover our belongings prior of our departure to this place. During our entire stay serving the 'Land of Promises' we knew no earthly pleasure, for we were told that engagement in earthly pleasure contradicts the principle of the Universe except under specific conditions. Hence, we did not bother to collect our organs from the stores. It was a voluntary and a mandatory obligation to deposit our organs, what you might call a kind of mixed bag. Voluntary, because initially we were told we were doing it of our own free choice, that anybody who felt like carrying his organs could rightly do so. On the other hand, if one was caught using his organ for what it is designed for with another female homo-ant, he would be brought to justice.

"Unfortunately, some homo-ants who occupied higher positions in the establishment, of which I am happy to tell everyone here that I was not a part, reverted to some kind of sadistic means of satisfying their deprivation of natural earthly pleasures. Some would torture female prisoners and free rangers alike around their genitalia. Others would order two female prisoners to go naked and make love to each other against their wishes while they stand and watch.

"To make my point convincing enough to permeate your conscience, I will call upon my friend the sightless, legless ant to tell you an event he witnessed while he was in training to serve the Department of Security." The winged ant then stretched his arms and invited the legless, sightless ant to step on to the soap box.

"Thank you, my friend, my pilot and, if I may say so, my guide too. This is a difficult task for me to accomplish; I don't quite know how to handle it. On the other hand I am extremely delighted to get the opportunity to stand in front of so many intelligent people and address a point of view even if one does not have any point of view. For so many years we were told to listen to what others have to say and follow what others instruct us to do. I never thought I would see a day where events turn the way they have today. Can you imagine the feeling of being recognized as a fellow who has got something to contribute, little though that contribution that may be? I would have liked to simply say thank you and step down off the soap box and feel great for the rest of my life for having got the chance to be heard. I didn't think I would be able to say all the things I have already said. I always thought you have got to be some kind of university lecturer or near lecturer to be able to speak. But, incredible though it may seem, I am speaking in a manner I never thought I would be able to speak.

"Of course, I have limitations and I should be the first homo-ant to recognize my limitations, otherwise I will end up in the same situation others ended up in - feeling that they are the only great people ever to be born. No, I am not trying to moralize about feeling modest even if one is absolutely capable of proving oneself omniscient. I am talking of my own personal serious limitations which I have lived with since day one. As you may guess, I was not meant to talk with other homo-ants, as other homo-ants were not meant to talk to me. I was not meant to be seen by others as others were not meant to be seen by me. This undoubtedly, makes it doubly difficult for me to express myself in a gathering such as this. Nevertheless, to my astonishment, I feel I am doing well. Well, it is a feeling and I could be wrong. I know I was summoned by my friend to deliver a speech of a different nature. I have not forgotten that, but upon trying to deliver the thing which I have been asked to deliver, I have discovered something else which in my opinion took priority in addressing.

"This new discovery is something which is useful for the future. If I can speak in front of you the way I have today, it means after all I can speak tomorrow, the day after tomorrow on matters of importance concerning all. It also means anybody, as common as a footsoldier inside the enemy territory, as I was, can speak and contribute to the common cause of all. This is what I call a discovery. A discovery not by design but by accident, for I only came today merely to accompany my friend.

"As to the story my friend asked me to tell you, important though it may be, it is a revelation of the mistakes of the past. It is of no use for the construction of the future except it can only be used to remind us that if we carelessly derail ourselves from the authentic Universal cause, then we are doomed to death and destruction.

"When I was training for the job which I later on assumed, in the department of security, in a distant land of the albinos (for they were the ones who acquired the skill of this profession at its best), a young homo-ant whose main task was polishing the shoes, fetching drinks, massaging the masters and their mistresses in a bath and informing, as necessary, on the opinions of other sub-masters to the master, he allegedly saw two, a male and a female, homo-ant footsoldiers, having oral sex in the field and reported this to the very master himself. The master got very upset that such a thing, totally alien to the culture of the burned face homo-ants, could happen in his domain. He instructed the two felons to be put immediately to death.

"By coincidence, I was working on another security matter involving a prisoner from the land of the despot, when the mini-homo-ant entered the office I was working in. I was eager to know what oral sex meant and how this little devil came to know about it. I found it difficult to believe he himself was engaged in such a thing, perhaps against his intention to have such a knowledge. I asked him all sorts of things first and then made my final move: 'What does it look like to have oral sex?' I asked him. 'Well, nothing extra ordinary,' said he.

'How do you mean nothing extra ordinary?' I queried. 'She took out every bit of her tongue and thrusted it all the way through his mouth, opening it wide as if the male homo-ant was inflicted with lock-jaw', he replied. 'That's all?', I asked. 'Well, what more were you expecting to have happened?' said he. Then I asked him, 'How did you know this was oral sex?' He replied 'I heard naked homo-ants in a group entering the bath talking about oral sex.'

"My God", I said to myself and went out rushing to inform the head of the security. The head of the security went to the master and tried to explain the matter but was sent back disappointed. That the killing should go ahead, presumably not to contradict the testimony and hence the verdict of the master, the two young homo-ants were sacrified to protect the master's hypocritical way of life. Kissing became a crime, love-making punishable by death only if it is done by the commoners, though, for the masters are always the first to break the law which they set against the law of nature. Earthly Gods beating nature in all conceivable games."

"You mean to tell us that you were free from the guilt that was and still is committed?" posed a worm from the field, brought to the front by a skateboard shuttle.

"No, I am not here to exonerate myself. I have no intention of doing that. We all have to be blamed, some more than others, though."

"Can you explain why the winged homo-ant is in a mask?" asked the homo-ant scholar in a hat and a long coat.

The legless, sightless ant turn his head in search of the winged homo-ant to handle the matter.

The winged homo-ant nodded his head in approval and moved towards the soap box, but hesitated to step on it. Nonetheless, he started to give his explanation:

"I am not in a mask, I have never been and will never be in a mask. I removed the horn, because I felt I didn't need a horn. I have never been involved in stabbing other homo-ants in the back or for that matter at any part, nor did I use it as a partial arsenal to fight anyone. I believe in no physical violence, I believe in reason. I fight for reason armed with reasoning. I stand for reason, I die for reason. I object to any symbol of violence. I removed the horn from my forehead. I was then put into prison. I fought the prison system with reason, they fought me with violence.

"They broke my arms, I broke their conscience. They destroyed my home, I destroyed their place in society. They move around cautiously. I walk freely and fly too. I sleep in peace, even those for whose eyes are no longer permeated to see light, for whose mouths are shut so as not to speak, for whose ears are clogged with mud and their lungs sunk in water, sleep in peace while the prison masters spend sleepless nights, panting from nightmares, haunted by the specter ghost.

"I emerged stronger, they grew weaker with time. Some of them died, others still dying of their own violence against themselves, but I am here today to reason, and I will continue to reason in daylight and in the darkest night. I will continue to reason while I am alive as well as when I am dead, in the rainy season and the dry. But equally, I am dead today, you all are dead today, the sightless, legless is dead, the worms in the field are dead, we are all dead while they are alive today, whereas they will be dead tomorrow when we are alive. I reason I am not born yet, I have no birthday yet.

"It is time the homo sapi-ant leaders came out into the open. The despot is now gone, replaced by the homo sapi-ant which appears to follow the despot's footsteps. Prior to that, the homo sapi-ants have been lucky for they were able to get away accusing others for all the crimes, including that committed by themselves. It is good that they are out in the air. Tomorrow is now today; a day of judgement. They are revolutionaries, they know how to kill, where to kill and when to kill for they themselves were killed the other day. As to dealings with the other affairs of life they will hopelessly fail."

"EH! You are here to reason for your own prick and bottom."

"You are repeating yourself again. I am not here for the food, water, sex, comfort and all rest. Here in Humdrum, the name of the game - luxury living - is different from that of the Farmland. Food, beverages and to a lesser extent sex have little to do with the concept of luxury living. Even if I managed to get all these things, and I am sure I will, just like anyone else has managed to secure, for they are available in abundance from used, reused, overused and abused sources for no but lesser satisfaction, forcing some, not knowing what to do with it, to 'Food-fight' in a world where half if not more are at the verge of death due to the lack of it. How is it that you think that I will feel proud for having it? No, I won't feel contented as I know you ar not contented for having it."

"Excuse me, just one more question before you descend down," said one untransformed, unaltered white homo sapiens standing at the back. This homo sapiens appears to be short but stout, his buttocks perched on fleshy muscular thighs which the trousers seemed to be having a difficult time restraining; at a closer inspection one would think of a well-fed cobra whirled behind a veil. The buttocks, too had a funny look, protruding as if waiting for someone to rescue them from falling over, splitting apart just like a pumpkin. They reminded me of the inside of a slaughtered goat made open hanging upside down waiting for someone to receive it on a plate before it landed on the ground. He had a big head, full of university lectures, which seemed heavy for him to carry stuck on a three-inch neck, with two holes making openings for two sleepy eyes, sheathed with some kind of nylon fleshy material. His forehead protruded, and his face retreated at the chin while in the midst of it all appears a nose suspended on a cliff, a nose with no defined racial specifications. All in all, it is a mass of a body, a work of a sculpturist, but a beginner.

"Yes," he continued, " you failed to mentioned in detail your distant nephews whom you now seem to hate, the albinos and their struggle, which has been going on for the last sixty years. Thank God at last they have achieved their independence.

"They have now the experience and what is more the weaponry and can't be easily unseated if anyone dares to attempt. The question of economic progress is not an insurmountable task to overcome anymore. Most of the industries the old nation under the despot had, comes from this albino region and only require a bit of Western touch to put them back into full action. There is always a market for one commodity they now have. It requires no stretch of imagination to extend its domination by out-pricing the other liquor cartels."

"At the beginning you gave me the impression that you were a politician. When you started to talk my faculty thought you were a historian, and for a brief moment the same faculty rethought you were what I thought you were - a politician. Then again reclassified you as an historian. However, finally my brain classified you as a diplomat, an envoy for a military or some kind of a political leader, an envoy of a lower order. An envoy of a lower order who betrayed the trust of his history students who advocates that a nation with mighty force, armed to the teeth, can never be unseated. A historian who preaches that all the battles so far won as direct consequences of armaments nations possess as opposed to the will and determination of the people in question. An envoy of a lower order who betrayed the confidence of some of the species, including some from the region in question, standing right here when you preach the holy place, the seat of the Prophet, to be flooded by smuggled and unholy liquor to disgrace their beliefs, put aside the breach of international law you and your colleague allegedly adhere to and which you hypocritically accuse others of undermining. An envoy of a lower order who betrayed the trust of all the women when you advocate trade of the worst nature behind the scene, coupled with the smuggling of liquor you have openly admitted, that of women prostitutes to enrich the pocket of the rulers you are closely acquainted with.

"Excuse me. I don't even know your name nor have I seen you before, to have no ill feeling towards you. It is only a matter of debate and I am only debating if my knowledge is of any match to yours, which I doubt, for the mind that of yours is enriched with a university education and all the rest.

"Furthermore, make no mistake. I am not against anyone who struggles for independence. I want to be independent and I wouldn't be in the way of anyone seeking independence. But I would like to make this point crystal clear. I would like to have my independence but at no expense to others. I want my independence but not at the expense of denying the independence of others. The sixty years you mentioned it took the albinos to get independence is no fault of mine or for that matter anyone else. Unlike the ants, albinos did not travel into to the womb of the earth. Unlike the ants, as a result they did not come out to the surface to fight for their causes with well-fortified ant-hills. Instead they chose to take a cover under flimsily built shelters around decaying trees, which caved in at times under heavy bombardments and their own weight, but more gravely albinos disserviced themselves by consuming the decaying and dead trees which served as pillars on which their lives hung in the balance."

Chapter Eight

Speaking of God, high up in space, comrade Security met the Guardian of Heaven and delivered a message from Wilke Hade Nazrawi on matters of great importance. But he also met the Guardian of Hell, and to his surprise both the Guardian of Heaven and Hell were one and the same character in different costumes.

Security was shocked to discover this. "How come?! You, the Guardian of Heaven, I saw earlier on, dressed in a white gown and a robe, bearded face full of grace. You have turned into a Batman-looking bat, but this time with a long curly thick ugly tail, like that of a kangaroo."

"Eh! Eh...ehhhh, heeee, peristroika, peristroika is the word my friend. Just as peristroika in earthly Russia, though many thought Russia was a divine land which many aspired to portray, rectification in Tupperari was carried out and here in Heaven/Hell, we too have carried out some modifications. It has been pointed out, for quite some time now, that the administration of Heaven/Hell by two highly paid, high- minded characters is inefficient, cost ineffective, out of fashion, just as it had been pointed out on earth that having two Big Brothers to look after the earthly affairs, including their own respective interests, was inefficient and misallocation of resources.

"We are told that the Earth is now far better administered with only one Big Brother taking charge to look after the interests of all. Previously two neighbors, or two regions, or two individuals in the same region, would pledge allegiance to one or the other of the Big Brothers, causing aggravation between the two Big Brothers, which in turn led to an excessive wastage of taxpayers' money in an endless conflict between the two Big Brothers on the one hand, the two small brothers on the other.

"Other semi-big, semi-small brothers are at times reported to get involved in the messy affairs of the two Big Brothers, and whip the whole business out of proportion. Now, we hear that one of the Big Brothers is tired and no longer interested in such an endless game, leaving the other to do whatever he wants with the rest of the worldly affairs, including that of the befallen Big Brother. Now experts advised this victor to keep his strength for a rainy day, rather than splashing it around. And it appears Big Brother is now heeding such expert advice. For example, to keep Tupperari and its neighbors together, just as the two Big Brothers argued for in the old days so that those damn little creatures won't play funny things with their interest, one Big Brother is allowed to make a foothold in the event that the other failed to tap Tupperari or the others on their backs with a bundle of hundred dollar notes.

"Gone are such days, thanks to God (I guess that refers to me), it is now possible for the victor Big Brother to make a take-it-or-leave-it deal separately with Tupperari and its neighbors without having to worry too much about the others going somewhere. There is no somewhere to go now a days. Like it or not, small nations such as Tupperari and the like - desperately in need of cash and international recognition to feel themselves better and to have some money for their leaders to travel around the world - have got no other option but to heed Big Brother. Think what happened to one of the pompous semi-small brothers of the Middle Sea who tried to challenge the strength of the Big Brothers. He was anticipating just like in the animal world where there is always a succession of one brute leader by yet another emerging brute as a part of natural progression. Unfortunately, unlike in the world of the animals where all play a fair game, Big Brother , mercilessly knocked him down ten times over and ordered him to pay all the war reparations.

"Efficiency my friend! That is the name of the game. It is a good thing we have learned this from the mortals, though temporarily powerful ones, and that is what we have applied to Heaven/Hell.

"Strange!" said Security. "All this that you call efficiency did not happen while I was there. It must have happened while I was in my space flight."

"Maybe, maybe," replied the Guardian. "By the way what brought you here?"

"Oh! That", Security collected himself. "Pardon me, Sir. First things first", then Security cleared his throat "..uhuh..uhuhhh", and after that he stated his mission: "I came here mainly for two reasons; however, I am here today, at this hour, with you to discuss matters of great weight. It is for the procurement of weaponry, such as the 'Fire Eater-Fire Spitter', 'Space to Space', 'Space to Ground', 'Split the Nation', missiles first to break apart and then defend and expand the motherland."

While they were having this discussion, though, in the region of Hell things seemed to having gone slightly out of control. Suddenly the perimeter was surrounded by a mob of angry demonstrators, all opposing the sale of such deadly weapons to a deadly nation. Some shouted that the leaders of the deadly earth are deadly unreliable and the sale of such weaponry would be deadly dangerous. Others shouted many obscene things one would not want to mention.

Some, however, were more interesting to watch. They behaved just like babies, the age of four, while still others were fun to watch, but their acts were more of a serious nature. A couple of Punks, at the very front, who had all sorts of slogans written all over their bodies, clearly visible, though they were partially covered with soot from the ever-lasting flame of Hell, were rolling and wallowing on the ground muddy from a recent torrential rain. The mud left artistic designs, touched by an invisible hand, on their fleshy bodies, while they had been making love. Anarchists, trained and eager for such a gathering wherever they happened to be, were in abundance everywhere actively deployed in the profession they know best, throwing stones, especially at the windows where long legs of prostitutes were on display for species from all over the Galaxies who were attending conferences or were on special missions such as that of comrade Security. A group of militant anarchists were looting the museum where the crown of Emperor Haileselassie, the Moustache of Stalin, the Skirt of Henry the VIII, Persian carpet of the Shah, Churchill's cane and the jacket of Reagan, temporarily borrowed, were on display.

A state of emergency was declared. It was reported that two anarchists were killed and an angel without a portfolio and the infamous 'Diablos' of the Left Wing Ward of Hell were seriously injured. The total material lost was also estimated to run into several millions. Amid the confusion, roaring, shouting, pushing, pinching and shoving, Security could hear a distinct voice calling on him.

"Security! Security!," it went on uninterrupted, loud and faint intermittently.

"All this dealing of buying and selling is a mistake. All that is needed is a space, more space in the Floppy Papers for the "Farmland," the voice of a woman could be heard.

Comrade Security heard the voice, and felt as if he recognized it but not quite: "Strange, who is calling my name? Who the devil could that be? I thought I was only famous in Tupperari, but in here, how could I have thought of it? Funny, they say if you are famous in one place you are bound to be famous in other places too. Come to think of people like Henry VIII, full of statues everywhere, erected high up penetrating the sky, as grim remainders of his attitude towards women or some may say he had an active private which came to live every time a woman happened to pass by in front of him. But being famous in the earthly world is one thing, in here, it is something else. It is thrilling."

The call continued unabated, "Comrade Security! Come in here. Tell them you are one of them. Tell them you belong in here. Tell them you have a natural membership card from this place, signed and endorsed by the ultimate boss of Hell. Show them the card you fool! Before they rip you apart."

"Are you kidding me? He more than anybody else belongs to this place?" asked a friend of Emma, standing next to her.

"Yes, I think so. We are, I hope, temporary residents. We are here to fill the gap until the day of judgement to entertain the Guardian and the rest. Thereafter the true residents will take over. Tell him to come in and take this place for me, from me. I feel like taking a trip," in humour she spoke to the woman standing next to her.

Security took a deep breath, tipped-toed, stretched his neck, threw his arms forward in a parallel fashion and then split them open, clearing thirty anarchists on both sides. He steered clear his way through the punks, who gave way even before he approached, except for the ones who were wallowing on the ground doing hanky-panky in a broad daylight. Past the wallowing punks, comrade Security came in front of a slim, tall (by the standard of all the people destined for Hell, although she argued for a temporary period of time) woman, with a prominent chin, long straight blond hair made to glow by the eternal flame of Hell. She had golden bosoms in the shape and determination of the space-to-space missiles, creating terror to those they seemed to be targeted at, and eyes as big and precise as binoculars fixed above the shell of a missile, piercing through with glaring intensity to locate its target.

Security, stood in dead silence for some time, in front the woman who made several calls, then with great difficulty uttered the following words: "Who are you?"

"It is me, Emma. Don't you remember me? I am or rather more appropriately was from the Agencies of the Land of Humdrum. You know from Kill the Father save the Orphan, Abandon the Oxen Depend on Faulty Tractors, War if You Want, Unorthodox Nonbeliever, Food for War and all the other organizations, your best friends from Humdrum. Furthermore, I worked closely with you for some time in the Farmland to produce the Rarest commodity of all, which made your organization, well, I mean Tupperari, including some personnel very rich and famous, as much as the Agencies were made rich and famous. You know, the Floppy Paper writers and the Chattery Box speakers, who made the Farmland known throughout the Universe, who in turn became experts and celebrities as a result."

For a moment Security closed his eyes then shook his head, giving the impression of a person waking up from the state of absence. He then swung his left arm, followed by the right as if he was swimming, pushing his way through the crowd and came close to the woman in silky red garment, who stood on a spot which gave the impression that the actual yellow, blue and orange fire that was eating the sky came from the very source on which she stood.

"Oh! Heaven forbid. It is you, Emma."

"Who else could it be? Yes it is me, Emma."

"For a moment I could not recognize you; you look more attractive and irresistible in here than you did on Earth."

"Really?"

"I swear to God, really," said Security pouting and rolling his lips tightly pressing it with his thumb to the wall fenced by the teeth.

"Goody, goody," Emma smiled.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"It is a long story, I won't go into detail, but to cut it short, where else could I go?"

"Don't bullshit me!"

"Oh yes! This is my place. Where else could I be sent then? Is there any other place you have in mind? This is my natural place. Although it was a little bit earlier than I thought. You know I did not fully pay my mortgage. Pardon me, I keep forgetting it was the mortgage for the second semi-detached house that I did not pay, otherwise for the first I think I did pay it all in one go after I came from the Farmland. Pity I did not fully and effectively use that place, nor did I stay long enough to enjoy the garden and the rest."

"Oh dear! It can also happen to people you least expect it to happen to. Of course, this is the natural place for most, but you took me by surprise. I thought you were still in the Farmland, or the Deadland."

"Oh! Those places; that was ages ago. I came here about three years ago with a hundred or more Farmland tenants."

"But, why so early? Didn't Wilke Hade Nazrawi find you useful both domestically and publicly? I thought that was the impression I got from him."

"You don't understand!"

"What?" queried Security.

Then he interrupted her, suspended his thought and said, "You are right, there; there are many things I don't fully understand. However, at least, I am aware of that. The trouble is, what can one do against powerful people such as... Theoretically, all security matters should be known to me and yet the clearest example of all, you have managed to pass through the net and end up here without my knowledge.

"I am, it can be argued, here even without my knowledge. Funny times we live in: the body and the brain locked together, in the same box; yet one lives in the past, the other in the future, none in the present. One wants to stay, the other wants to go; one prefers to remain private the other craves to go public. One works to be the agent of peace, the other that of violence. One endeavors to build the box it lives in, the other tirelessly targets to blow the box apart.

"In a world of conflicts between independent factors, one has little or no control of the nearest thing let alone the far fetched ones. Many things remain unknown even to the most knowledgeable person in the Farmland... You see, that explains why I did not know you had left the Farmland and indeed your own homeland.

"Farmland says you are in Humdrum; Humdrum says you are in Farmland. Farmland Humdrum, Humdrum Farmland."

"I don't think I fully understood most of your thought, especially the stuff about the box."

"Never mind, if you fail to grasp it all. It is not important. It is a trade of some people to complicate matters; they live off it, making accessible things inaccessible, bending straight things and spending time to put it back straight. I guess partly I am to blame for the same crime.

"All I meant to tell was: a poor person walks in an open market and sees others eating in a restaurant, even walks by a stand of fruits and vegetables and yet he is unable to stretch his arms and collect some to eat. A fruit so near and yet so far. If the person did that you know the consequences."

"I see what you mean. But why all this politicking just to say something common place?"

"Now, there you go. I admitted my problem and yet you wanted to punish me, or to put it mildly, to criticize me. Forgiveness is not part of our style of running our lives and the lives of others who depend upon us.

"Now, You made me forget the main issue I was talking about: why are you here? Did you win a Family Fortune, a trip to the Galaxies for two weeks with all expenses covered? You do not believe this, but I like you. True, I always have. You are the most daring person I have ever met. And it won't surprise me if you have decided to take this risky trip for fun."

animal.... the hyena, now a grass-eater, vegetarian.

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