Cliff awoke in an earthen chamber and stretched. He had just experienced the best sleep of his life. The light that greeted him was subdued and flickered like a candle. He thought it odd that this candle hung from the ceiling. He reached out for it and tapped what he soon learned was a glowing ant abdomen. The light ant moved a few inches out of the way.

"Bleagh!" he recoiled.

He had a strange tingling sensation all over his scalp. Reaching up, he felt sort of a fizzing sensation. Looking at his hand, he was it was covered in ants. The ants came from his head which would now seem to have been covered in ants.

"Noella!"

He reached out and found the body of a cat.

"Bismarck?"

"Oh hello, Cliff."

Noella's voice came uncertainly. "Who's there?"

"Hello, Cliff's companion," said Bismarck pleasantly. "Well, it would appear that we are all inside the ant hive."

"We're still alive," marvelled Cliff. "But there are ants all over our heads. What is going on?"

"Ah, yes. I noticed that too."

"Oh my goodness!" gasped Noella. "But I feel absollutely wonderful."

"It would appear," mused the cat "that the ants have been repairing our minds."

"Repairing them? What happened to our minds? Why would they need repairing?"

"I am not sure, but I think the ants can sense disturbances in energy patterns. When a mind is full of consternation and confusion, they can smooth out the irregular spikes, calm it down. Think of it as a spa for the mind, putting your thoughts through a mud bath treatment. Incidentally, my whole world view has changed."

"Has it?"

"Oh yes. I see now that I was completely wrong before. It is in the Cats' best interests to live in harmony with the birds, snakes, and humans."

"Well, that is interesting of course, but do we have to spend the rest of our days here? I kind of want to leave, in spite of feeling all groovy."

"I agree with that," said Noella, "and I really need a good hot shower right now."

"Well, we can leave anytime. I suspect they just stowed us in here for our own safety. But now that the activity has died down..."

Cliff stuck his head out the entrance and returned.

"It's dark out there, but I think most of the ants are gone."

"Well, what are we sticking around here for?"

They strolled unhurriedly though the giant ant galleries back to the Ant Observation Lab. Up the ladder they climbed. Then through the airlock. They were met by a crushing crowd of birds, cats, and snakes.

"Cliff! You're back!" Twake shouted from the other side of the room. He flew over and hovered in front of his nose. "I could kiss you!"

"Huh?" Cliff started to scratch his head then stopped himself in case some ants were still up there. "I thought you guys had all gone south or something."

"Evacuation called off. Haven't you heard? No I suppose not, since you've been missing for 2 weeks. Take a look at this."

Cliff, Noella and Bismarck squinted at the viewscreen. A crisp set of symbols was arrayed.

"This is the Mojave Desert from 100 miles up. That's the answer right there. It was flashed for five seconds, just enough time for it to register in our satellites."

"So why hasn't the world ended?" asked Noella.

"It's in the giant ant tome. On the way to Antarctica, I read some more of it. It said the ants were never a danger to us. That old parable was just a myth. The only reason they were given the calculation was because they kept interfering with the world order by fixing everyone's head and making them groovy. Without tension and strife, there is no need to be controlled by the governments. Thousands of years of wars and horror were caused by not having the ants around to fix our heads."

"That's great, I think," said Cliff trying to grasp the ramifications. "But I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Why is it that I could never hear what ants were thinking unless they are far from the hive? The more ants there are, the more quiet they become. But one ant in my house was loudly saying gotta gotta."

"An excellent question, my dear friend. The answer is that ants' minds are harmonic. When they get together, their brain signals build on one another becoming one very powerful signal called the Pan-Mind. It happens to be on a slightly different wavelength than the one most animals use. But with the right equipment, we can..."

"CONTACT!" squawked a bird. "We have contact with the Pan-Mind."

Everyone in the room crowded around the bird, who listened intently to her headset and repeated what she heard.

"It says... um... okay, that's odd. It wants a copy of Finnegan's Wake."

"The book by that Irish writer," Cliff laughed.

"James Joyce," Noella said. "Why on earth would they want that for?"

"Er..." continued the bird, "apparently it is looking for a bigger challenge than mere numerical calculations. It wants to tackle liberal arts now."