In the centre of each engine hood was a row of vents plenty wide enough for the ants to scuttle through. Once inside, they found themselves in a dreadful universe of gargantuan steel pipes and enormous spinning wheels. The suffocating air stank of diesel and the incessant din rattled the ants into numb stupefaction. But they had been well primed by their superior officers. They braced themselves against the swirling gales generated by the huge cooling fans and followed their predetermined route, marching over the rolling ridges of the pipes, unfazed by the tangle of tubes, being natural experts at mazes. The units tasked with finding the engine’s spark plugs quickly located them: four towering pagodas some distance ahead. It was not necessary for the soldier ants to approach the plugs – in fact, they had been warned that the electric fields around the plugs could easily kill them. Instead they focused on the lone wires that dangled from the top of each spark plug; these trailed on the ground near the ants, each one about as thick as the ants were long. Coming to a halt beside these wires, the soldier ants removed the mine-grains they’d been carrying on their backs and deployed them, three or four mines to a wire. They set the timer knob on each mine, then quickly withdrew.

Unlike the miniature incendiary devices used in the First Dinosaur–Ant War, these mines were specially designed for disconnecting wires. A brief but brilliant indoor fireworks display ensued: blasts popped and crackled, neatly severing the four wires, and the broken ends fizzed and sizzled in a blinding shower of sparks as they made contact with the metal casing.

The disconnected spark plugs could no longer ignite the fuel. The loss of motive power brought the bulldozers to an abrupt halt, and inertia threw several ants off the pipes.

While all of this was happening, other ant contingents had gone in search of the fuel lines. These were much thicker than the spark-plug wires, and through the clear plastic walls the ants could clearly see fuel coursing down the tubes. They clambered on top of them, encircled them with a dozen mine-grains each, then retreated, mission accomplished.

The bulldozers had advanced about 200 metres when they suddenly stopped, one after the other. Two or three minutes later, six of them burst into flames. Their dinosaur drivers hopped out of the cabs and fled. Before they’d got very far, several of the burning bulldozers exploded. The ants standing guard around the Ivory Citadel could see nothing but thick smoke and sky-high flames.