the smell of rock was the smell of sickness. He would have to sound the alarm on that account, too. Now the 327th male had two mysteries to solve, the dwarves' secret weapon and the cancer cells of Bel-o-kan. And he could tell no-one. He had to think. He might well possess some hidden resource that would solve all his problems.
He set about washing his antennae, moistening them (it gave him a funny feeling to lick antennae without recognizing the characteristic taste of passport pheromones), brushing them, smoothing them with his elbow brush and drying them.
What on earth was he to do?
The first thing was to stay alive.
Only one person could remember his infrared image without needing the confirmation of the ID scents and that was Mother. However, the Forbidden City was packed with soldiers. It could not be helped. After all, was there not an old saying of Belo-kiu-kiuni's that stated: We are often safest in the midst of danger?
'Edmond Wells isn't remembered kindly here. No-one tried to stop him leaving, either.'
The person speaking these words was a pleasant-looking old man, one of Sweetmilk Corporation's assistant managers.
'Didn't he discover a new bacteria for flavouring yoghurt?'
'Well, I must admit he had sudden strokes of genius where chemistry was concerned. But they weren't a regular occurrence, they only came in fits and starts.'
'Was he a trouble-maker?'
'No, not really. He just didn't fit in with the team. He was a loner. His bacteria brought in millions but no-one ever really appreciated him.'
'What exactly was the problem?'
'Every team has a leader. Edmond couldn't stand leaders or anyone in a position of power. He always despised managers. He used to say they only "managed for the sake of managing, without producing anything". When it comes down to it, we all have to do a spot of boot-licking. There's no harm in it. That's how the system works. He had a very high opinion of himself, though. We were his equals but I think it got on our nerves more than on the bosses'.'
'Why did he leave?'
'He had a row about something with one of our assistant managers. Actually, he was entirely in the right. The assistant manager had gone through his desk and Edmond blew his top. When he saw everyone was on the manager's side, he had no choice but to leave.'
'But you've just said he was in the right.'
'We thought we'd better side with someone we knew and didn't like rather than stick our necks out for someone we liked but didn't know. Edmond didn't have any friends here. He didn't eat or drink with us. He went around with his head in the clouds.'
'Why admit to all that now? You didn't have to tell me.' 'Well, I feel bad about it now he's dead. You're his nephew. Telling you helps get it off my chest.'
At the end of the dark bottleneck stood a wooden fortress, the Forbidden City.
The building was actually a pine stump around which the dome had been built. It acted as the heart and backbone of Bel-o-kan; the heart because it contained the royal chamber and precious food reserves; and the backbone because it allowed the city to withstand storms and rain.
Seen at close quarters, the wall of the Forbidden City was in-crusted with complex patterns like inscriptions in some barbarous script. These were the corridors dug long ago by the first inhabitants of the stump, the termites.
When the founding Belo-kiu-kiuni had landed in the region five thousand years earlier, she had immediately come up against them. The ensuing war had lasted over a thousand years but the Belokanians had won in the end. They had then been amazed to discover a 'hard' city with wooden corridors that never caved in. The pine stump opened up new urban and architectural perspectives.
With the flat, raised table on top and deep roots spreading into the earth below, it was absolutely ideal. However, it soon became too small to shelter the growing population of russet ants. They had then dug outwards from the roots to form the basement