Interior Minister Babat and Health Minister Dr Vivek entered the emperor’s chamber as soon as the ants had gone. They were followed by several dinosaurs pushing a large, complicated-looking machine. The health minister explained. ‘Your Majesty, this is a high-precision three-dimensional scanner.’

‘What do you plan to do with it?’ asked Dadaeus, his left eye swathed in bandages, his right eye narrowed in suspicion.

‘For Your Majesty’s safety, we need to perform a full scan of your head,’ the interior minister said solemnly.

‘Is this really necessary?’

‘It’s best to be cautious when dealing with those devious little insects.’

The minister invited Dadaeus to step up onto the machine’s small platform. Once he was in position, a thin beam of light began passing slowly over his head. It was a lengthy procedure. ‘You’re being ridiculously paranoid,’ Dadaeus said irritably. ‘The ants wouldn’t dare lay a feeler on me. If they were found out, the imperial army would demolish all of their cities within three days. The ants may be devious, but they are also the most rational of insects. They’re like computers: logic and precision are everything to them; there’s no room for the sort of emotion that might spur them into trying to get even.’

The scan revealed no abnormalities in Dadaeus’s skull. Meanwhile, a report came in confirming that ants were pouring back into dinosaur cities. Normalcy was quickly being restored.

‘I’m still not convinced, Your Majesty. I know what the ants are like,’ the interior minister muttered to the emperor in a low voice.

Dadaeus smiled at him benignly. ‘Your vigilance is commendable, and you should remain watchful, but take it from me, old chap, we have bested them!’

The health minister would not be diverted. ‘From now on,’ he said, ‘all high-ranking officials, leading scientists and key personnel must undergo regular scans like this. With Your Majesty’s approval, of course,’ he added hastily.

‘Very well, you have my approval. But I still think you’re being unduly anxious.’