The Ultimate Inferior Beings (34 page)

Slimy green organisms

Suddenly, things were not
looking so good for the tiny little schizzo-plankton. However, just then,
evolution stepped in to lend a helping hand. As the tiny creatures became more
and more cramped in their rapidly shrinking pools, due to all the sucking,
lapping, slurping and syphoning activity they were attracting, they started to
coalesce and develop into multi-celled organisms. At first, of course, this had
no effect on their predicament; they were devoured just as regularly as before,
although now they tasted a bit lumpier.

But, the more of this
clumping that occurred, the more the pools were able to start defending
themselves. And, indeed, very soon they started to fight back.

Some pools blocked up the
suction tubes of the sucking creatures – a strategy which caused the creatures
to eventually starve to death. Others pulled the creatures into the pool to
drown. Yet others emitted toxins and poisoned their eaters, while others still,
evolved the cunning ploy of simply getting up and running away. The fight was
well and truly on. No longer were the pools defenceless.

Some pools went the whole hog
and adopted a combination of several strategies. For example, when a hungry
syphon rat came along and dipped its suction tube into the pool, the pool would
first release powerful toxins into the tube. Then it would grab tightly hold of
the tube and block it up, preventing the rat from spitting the poisons out. And
finally, it would get up and run away. In this way, the helpless, dying syphon
rat would be dragged to his death behind the fleeing pool.

Food

These defensive strategies
were all very well but, to survive, the slimy green pools had, themselves, to
eat. Some pools did just that. They ate themselves.

Others solved the hunger
problem in a less drastic and extreme manner; they fed on the very creatures
that were trying so hard to eat them. They developed a taste for anything that
moved. From the tall, majestic hopping-snake, to the lazy white bipedal ant.
The latter creature, due to its extreme laziness was, even then, on the brink
of extinction.

Some pools couldn’t develop a
taste for any of these things. They ate neither syphon rats, suction plants,
lapping dogs, slurping storks, hopping snakes, lazy white bipedal ants, nor
other pools. These were the pools that starved to death.

Slimy green blobs

Unfortunately, the above
solution to the hunger problem proved to be a temporary one. The creatures that
the pools had started feasting on soon took to avoiding the slimy green pools
altogether. For their food they went back to killing and eating one another.
The pools found themselves sitting and waiting for days on end without so much
as a hopping-snake hopping by, or a lazy white bipedal ant ambling along.

Some sort of action was
needed, and it wasn’t long before the slimy green pools took it. Already adept
at walking, they quickly mastered the art of climbing trees. (It should be
noted that, at this stage in their evolution, due to their versatile
musculature, they already more closely resembled slimy green blobs than slimy
green pools. Some parts, admittedly, were still very fluid and tended to drip
off, but the main body was definitely very blob-like.)

Anyway, once up a tree, they
would wait in ambush for a passing animal, leaping out of the tree when one
came along. It was a bit of a messy hunting technique, but quite an effective
one. The only drawback was the long climb back up the tree afterwards.

As an aside, it is
interesting to note that this new hunting technique effectively saved the,
now-very-rare, lazy white bipedal ant from total extinction. Not only were the
ants difficult to see from the top of a tree, but attacking them was now hardly
worth the effort.

Further evolution

Of course, leaping out of
trees at passing prey was all very well while it lasted. But it did not last
very long. Not very long at all. It took hardly any time for their prey to
start avoiding going under trees.

So the slimy green blobs were
back to square one. To square zero, even. Because, in the meantime, the syphon
rats had evolved the ability to climb trees and had started coming after them
again. What was worse, they had also evolved a set of long sharp claws and a
mouthful of equally long and equally sharp teeth.

The slimy green blobs were
powerless to defend themselves against these creatures and all they could do
was to run and hide
.
They hid in caves, in forests and even underground.
They hid for a long time. For thousands of years, in fact, until the syphon
rats evolved a taste for other creatures.

And so, when they re-emerged,
they were very, very hungry. Thousands of years, with nothing to eat other than
fruit, dead things and bat-droppings, had depleted their strength considerably.
What they needed now was a source of healthy nourishment. What they had
instead, though, was intelligence. Which was something of a surprise.
Unwittingly, during their thousands of years in hiding, they had been living
principally off the fruit of the Brain Plant – a highly intelligent plant that
had developed language, conscious thought and introspection. The plant’s brains
were in its fruit (not a very bright survival strategy, as it happens). As a
by-product of eating the brain fruit, the slimy green blobs acquired
intelligence. The problem now was what to do with it.

Benjamin

It wasn’t immediately obvious
to the Mamms – for now, surely, they could be called that – what their newly
acquired intelligence was good for. (In the brain fruit, intelligence was
required for carrying out a particularly complex reproductive strategy, for
which the Mamms had no need). Many Mamms grappled with this problem, but only
one came up with an answer. His name was Benjamin, and he was destined to become
a legend and the inspiration for a number of religious movements. Only he
realized the true value of intelligence.

So he called a meeting: The
Meeting – as it came to be known in the history, folklore and legend of the
Mamms. It was to be a big meeting attended by as many Mamms as could come. He
fixed it for a time that all Mamms would know and recognize: the total eclipse
of the Source by the Drain (the former being the star at the heart of their
planetary system and the latter being the moon that orbited Ground).

And so it came to pass. As
the time of the eclipse neared, all the millions of Mamms who had heard of The
Meeting turned up at the arranged spot. This arranged spot came later to be
known as The Arranged Spot.

In the middle of The Arranged
Spot was a very tall tree. A very tall tree indeed. Benjamin climbed right to
the top of this tree, and, as the Drain crept across the face of the Source, he
prepared to address the assembled throng.

And it was, indeed, quite a
throng. So many Mamms had turned up that most were out of sight over the
horizon. None of these got to see Benjamin at all. But then, even those Mamms
within sight of the tree, didn’t get to see him, either, given the height of
the tree and the pitch darkness during totality.

Funny thing was, no one heard
a word he said, either. Because of the height of the tree and because of the
weakness of Benjamin’s voice, all his words of wisdom, if indeed he spoke any,
were completely lost. All in all, it was a bit of a disaster.

Still, every Mamm who was
present sensed the importance of the occasion and cheered wildly long before
Benjamin had actually finished his epic speech. Rumour had it that it was a
brilliant speech. Benjamin certainly thought so.

Which was a pity. For, when
taking his third bow, in the darkness of the total eclipse, he missed his
footing and fell the several hundred feet from the top of the tree to the
ground. He died instantly.

The legend

Benjamin’s death came as a
terrible shock, but his memory lived on. He became a legend overnight. Or
rather, as soon as the eclipse had cleared.

He became a hero. His name
came to symbolize the ideal Mamm. The perfect Mamm. The Mamm of bravery,
courage, intelligence, social conscience, and so on. The Mamm of just about
everything, in fact, except night vision and sure-footedness.

Did he fall...?

However, not all Mamms
revered Benjamin in this way. Some considered him over-rated. Some suggested
that he hadn’t actually said anything of importance at The Meeting. After all,
no one had heard him, so who was to know what he had said? It might have been
complete rubbish.

Others went even further in
their scepticism. They suggested that Benjamin did not, and never had, existed.
They argued that no one had actually seen him at The Meeting, and no one had
actually heard him, so what evidence was there that anyone called Benjamin had
ever given a speech during the total eclipse of the Source?

There was no answer to these
criticisms. Even Benjamin’s most loyal supporters had no actual proof of his
existence. No trace of Benjamin’s body was ever found. Which was hardly
surprising, considering the height from which he had fallen, if indeed he had
fallen, but not very helpful all the same.

In place of the truth, came
legends. In place of evidence came beliefs. In place of certainty came faith.
It came to be said that The Meeting was itself a legend. As was the Great
Speech. And the Great Fall. These things, if they had ever happened at all, had
happened so far in the past, that no Mamm could actually recall any of the
events or how much truth there was in them.

And the rest is history...

APPENDIX II: MAMM HISTORY

Whether
or not
The
Meeting actually occurred, it certainly left a mark on all subsequent Mamm
evolution, thought and history. Indeed its first impact was to usher in The
Period of Deep Thinking; a time when a lot of Mamms did a lot of thinking.

The Period was started by a
Mamm called Alistair who, if you manage to track him down now, will confirm
with a heavy look and a long-suffering sigh that it really did happen. Indeed,
it was largely Alistair that it happened to.

His idea was that the Mamms’
newfound intelligence should be applied to their current food crisis. He
figured that if he got enough minds working on the problem, someone, somewhere,
would come up with a solution. So he announced that he would listen to any
suggestions that anyone came up with and then decide on the best course of
action to save their species.

The very next day, there was
a queue of Mamms outside the hollow in the ground where he slept. The queue
stretched all the way to the horizon. Alistair gave a little smile of
astonishment and then rubbed his hands in anticipation of a quick solution to
their predicament. Little did he realize...

He stepped forward and
greeted the Mamm at the head of the queue. The Mamm was called Cecil and he had
brought a strange, round object with him.

“Hello, what’s this?”
Alistair asked cheerily, looking at the unfamiliar object before him.

“It’s a wheel,” said Cecil,
proudly.

“A wheel, eh?” said Alistair
inspecting it, first this side, then that. “And what does this wheel of yours
do?”

“It rolls down hills,” Cecil
replied.

“Rolls down hills,” echoed
Alistair, looking at the wheel a second time.

“That’s right. And on flat
bits as well, if you push it.”

“I see. Does it do anything
else?” asked Alistair, wondering whether he was missing something.

“No, not really. That’s what
it does best.” He nodded and smiled at Alistair. “Rolls down hills.”

“I see,” said Alistair
thoughtfully. “Er, how might this help solve our present food shortage?”

Cecil paled. “Well, er, it
might...” he started defensively.

“Don’t get me wrong,” said
Alistair quickly, trying not to sound too discouraging. “I think it’s really
good. Really good. It’s just that...” He paused, wondering how to put it
tactfully. “Well, you see, we have a grave global food crisis on one hand and,
er, this ‘wheel’ of yours on the other.” He stood scratching his head. “I’m
trying to see a connection. How we might use one to help with the other.”

Cecil nodded also.

“Any ideas?” asked Alistair.

“Not really,” admitted Cecil.

“Okay, well why don’t you go
away and think about it?”

“Alright.”

And Cecil left, rolling his
wheel.

“Next!” said Alistair and the
next Mamm from the queue stepped forward.

The next Mamm’s suggestion
was more pertinent. His name was Nathan and he wanted to make a case for
cannibalism.

“Next!” said Alistair.

Next was Bertram, who had
invented juggling.

“Next!” said Alistair. And so
it went on.

During the first day Alistair
saw several more newly invented wheels, some impressive works of Art, and a
Mamm that could read minds. Not very well, as it happened.