#Planet Myrmecos

[futurebird]

Traditional ant names

Traditional ant names are based on one ant virtue as the first name and one ant “intimidating quality” as the last name.

For example:

Temperance the Absconder

Proportionality the Relentless

Synchronicity the Amputator

Alacrity the Calculating

Efficiency the Eternal Witness

[futurebird]

If you look up "symbolism of ants" most often mentioned are efficiency & industrious ... but if you really watch ants you'll discover they aren't efficient at all. I have no doubt that they want to be efficient. It's listed as an "ant virtue" in my plans for their planet. It's one of the most popular ant names. In reality ants struggle a with all tasks it's more about brute force & sheer numbers than efficiency.

Industriousness? "do what you know you can do; no more, no less" is the ant motto.

[futurebird]

Danger and dance tapping antennas You'll find your chance On the planet of the--

[futurebird]

A world without vertebrates: Myrmecos, the planet of the ants!

So, I've been looking for a solution to the question: Why did vertebrates fail to flourish on Myrmecos?

I think I have the answer: No Armored Fishes. If there were no armored fish then the Eurypterids would have continued to be apex predators longer. Some might have filled the hunting niche of early tetrapods. Arthropods were already on land, but you get a second wave.

The land gets built up with arthropods and fish are trapped in the seas!

And in this universe earth is the exception. Not only is earth far away from all of the other living planets it's one of the few with land vertebrates. The armored fish driving tetrapods on to land was a kind of ripple in the intended pattern. It threw everything off!

And just looking at The Dunk-- it is kind of unnatural, don't you think?

This also means that the ants will keep describing humans as "intelligent life from the sea" -- even as we keep explaining that everything came from the sea and it was a long time ago...

To them having a backbone means you are adapted to living in the water.

(I'm adding "Evolution of Ant" to my list of things to draw.)

It would be like one of those old-school natural history museum murals. Starting with single-celled life in the tidal pools of early Myrmecos, then the first multicellular life, then the first sea arthropods, then a momentous moment when a little crab creature first steps on land! Then the early insects, primitive solitary wasps with the glimmers of consciousness, eusocial insects discovering fire ... and at last ants! -----

Hmm it occurs to me reading about the history of human aviation and all of those people longing "to fly" might make ants very uncomfortable.

The ants have never had much fascination with flight. (Space is another matter.) Any queen or drone can fly. It's considered a sign of maturity to pull one's wings off and get on with life.

Flying has primitive, and also vaguely sexual connotations so all the documentaries about people like the Wright Brothers just make Humans sound hopelessly horny.

[futurebird]

:: “The Pentagon people are disgusted with this entire situation. First contact with the first verifiably intelligent aliens we’ve encountered and who are we sending? A second rate peacenick academic!”

I was momentarily distracted from the whole “disgusted pentagon” issue by the sheer insolence of the direct (if somewhat true) insult about my career.

“Um excuse you!” I said, angrily.

“I didn’t say anything you haven’t told me yourself!” Hershel was really horribly worked up— but, I stuck to nursing my pride.

“Well, I don’t care if I did tell you! What kind friend calls you ‘second rate’?”

“The kind who is trying to save your life. These military types don’t play. Do you realize I just had to talk them out of assassinating you? I still haven’t gotten them of their second favorite idea.”

“Assassinate-- Second idea!?” “They still think it’d be 'prudent' to brainwash you.” "Brainwash me!" "The good news is: I don't really think they know how to do that yet."" "I thought they worked it out in the 1970s." "No, oh no... though not for lack of trying." "OK. I guess I'd better try to pay attention to whatever you're trying to tell me." "Wow." "Don't look hurt. I'm listening!" "Alright. What it comes down to is intelligence. Ever since they realized that Myrmecos isn't like the Slug Planet and the Bat Planet, that is, ever since they've realized that there are creatures there with minds and culture and economies and... most important armies--" "They were shocked that ants would have armies?" I said with a derisive laugh. "I mean, yes. I think the other first contact planets put them on their back foot a little." "But, anyone who knew anything at all about ants would know that they love their armies." "I don't think these military guys know much of anything about anything but munitions and battle plans." "Why do we even have an army? There hasn't been a war for ages. And everyone hates war!" "That's just what I mean. You aren't their ideal candidate." "I'm still not seeing what the army has to do with picking a candidate to visit the Ant Planet." Hershel was getting frustrated again. He took a deep breath. "Listen. If the ants have armies that's the kind of thing that the Pentagon finds ... very alarming. They would much rather have someone go who can asses the size of their forces, who can give the proper sort of perspective." "Like a spy?" "God no." "So I can't be a spy?" "No. No spies." "Are they going to say I can't go?" "No. I don't think they have any choice in the matter." "Then why are you telling me all of this?" I laughed which caused Hershel to get a little red-faced, but he managed to recover. "I'm. Telling you. This. Because. It would be. Prudent. To make some agreeable gestures to show. That you understand. The importance. The Military Importance. Of this mission." "I'm on a mission now?" I was excited. Doing a research trip was one thing... but a proper mission sounded much more exciting. "No! Or rather, yes. But, not officially yes." Hershel looked like he was going to cry "I don't know." He went on. "Can you just... just..." "Yes!" I said saluting. "Just... No. No, don't salute. Listen, we'll talk more about this later." Hershel rubbed his eyes then huffed off. When he was gone I smiled quietly to myself. He was so easy to work up.

[futurebird]

"Timothy! No! That's a first edition! And where are your spectacles! What has gotten in to you?" Character idea:

A scholar who is a book louse larvae— he is deeply torn between completing his research by reading the books and eating them so that he can pupate (and maybe then, at last have the nerve to ask out the moth on whom he has a terrible unrequited, totally secret crush) Sometimes he eats books he finds poorly written out of spite.

“I had to miss a week of work sick in bed after eating Art of the Deal, but it seemed like a matter of personal duty to munch up that one. Worse I don’t think it helped my silk glands develop at all! Really I felt worse after the ordeal—had to nibble on a 1st edition of Nother’s tables just to get my bearings— and now all of the logarithms between 0.5 and 0.7 are missing.” He said with a little sob. “Whatever am I to do? I simply love my books far too much!”

[futurebird]

The Provost's Secretary

(In which I help a single working mother.)

When I arrived at the provost's office I didn't know what manner of criticism I was to receive. Even in my nervous state I couldn't help but notice a peculiar rustling commotion under the long dress of her secretary, a near-sighted gray wolf spider who seemed just as flustered as I was. I craned for a better look, and saw a little spiderling peek from the ample hems of her skirts. This, it seemed, was too much for the secretary. She gave up all pretense of checking me in.

"Please oh please don't tell the provost I brought my children here!" begged the secretary. Of course I assured her I wouldn't say a word. But, after my meeting with the Provost I did something that may have betrayed the confidence of the nervous mother. The Provost followed me from her office, still giving instructions and criticisms of my work, and this was when I spotted a spiderling snuggled on the provost's gaster! Something in my demeanor betrayed my mirth at the situation.

The provost whirled around fixing her large and perpetually angry black eyes on her own bottom. Seeing the spiderling, she flew into a rage. Mandibles waggling at her secretary! She backed the poor spider into a corner. Then she shouted:

"If you bring them again you might as well look for another job!" and slammed her office door. I felt horrible. This was all my fault. I would be responsible for a mother of... um... a mother of many being out of work with no way to support her young.

So, of course I offered to babysit. To my surprise the spider was happy to trust me with such an important task and this is how she came to arrive at my apartment to drop the little ones off. She had packed them all into a large basket.

"They should stay in the basket. You don't need to do anything. Just don't leave them alone." Confident that I was helping, I bid their fussing furry mother goodbye and sat down at my desk to work on my research. After some time, I felt something small and soft nestling into my leg.

It was one of the spiderlings of course. The basket simply didn't provide the comfort of mother. I attempted to move the little one back, but when I got close to the basket several more made their way on to my arms and chest. They looked up at me, each with 8 little black eyes. "mum?" they asked. Who was I to denny them?

Soon I was covered head to toe ... and though I tried to resume my paperwork, it could not be done. I simple stood in the middle of the room, arms out, covered in spiders. I don't know how much time passed or how I didn't become overwhelmed, but suddenly after a time they all poured off my body rushing to the door.

Thankfully, it was their mother, and it was clear I was just a substitute since they made their way back to her rump with all haste. I had a few unsettling dreams, but I also resolved to talk to the provost about her intolerant attitude to children. I suppose ants can just leave their little ones at home, they have sisters who are nurse maids!

[futurebird]

Character ideas: Maculinea arion, a lovely blue butterfly and her murderous roommate the jewel wasp.

Timothy, the book louse, is desperately in love with her, but little does he know that his love interest has a treacherous past, she grew up eating baby ants! She lives with her roommate, a femme fatal jewel wasp who is connected to the disappearance of several gentleman roaches. Only because the ants fail to take crime against roaches seriously has the jewel wasp not been caught.

When Timothy discovers what the woman he loves has done he is torn about exposing her.  When Timothy starts looking in to her and her roommate-- he suddenly disappears! Our human exchange professor (and narrator) goes searching for Timothy fearing he has become a victim of the jewel wasp, a beautiful but horrible serial killer who paralyzes her victims then buries them alive as food for her young.

When she is finally captured the jewel wasp laughs at the police with contempt:

"You can't call me a murderer! None of my victims are even dead yet! And you'll never find them anyway. You should focus on that wicked blue butterfly, not me, I rid the world of PESTS!"

[futurebird]

The Provost

Character idea:

That morning I found an unwelcome guest in my office. The university provost, a lean an elegant bull ant with angry dark eyes. Her natural expression was so menacing it was hard to tell if she was ever pleased. Judging by her twice folded front legs and twitching right antennae —a good mood seemed even less likely.

“We need to talk about the new head librarian.” she said with formic acidity underlining each word. “What? Timothy? but he’s so knowledgeable. He knows exactly where everything is in our collection!” “Not hard when half of it ends up in your belly.” said the provost massaging her antennae ridges as if she were developing a headache.

“You must admit, large collections can benefit from culling— we can’t just stockpile every single useless book and paper.” I said hoping that Timothy had not eaten something too valuable this time.

Stories With The Provost: The Provost's Secretary

[futurebird]

The Subway on Planet Myrmecos

The ants piled in to the subway car. Each had a newspaper. (by looking carefully at the header you could tell which colony they were from) Committed to business-like conduct & social order each ant had her paper folded into a strip so she could read one column at a time without getting the paper in the faces of other passengers. Some ants read by sight, while others opted for braille, which they scanned with the sensitive tips of their antennae. Fortunately most print material on Myrmecos contains both.

Holding a sturdy leather strap with one tarsal claw, the paper with another & checking her pocket watch with a third, ants were the picture of urban sophistication.

I did feel a little out of place on the train full of ants. Their antennae neatly folded like the colony newspapers, they made excellent use of the space. No jostling, no arguments. Just a silence filled with pheromone conversations that I could not hear.

A tall and elegant bull ant worker with bright dark eyes offered me her seat... as if being a human were a kind of infirmity. I took up her offer. I really needed to sit down.