City of words

The light in the docking bay was dim, the shuttle’s external sensors picking up on the whine of turbines as the remnants of the storm-clouds outside were stripped from the bay and clear air was pumped in. The air itself was still a potent blend of acidic humidity and toxic gasses, but it was at least easier to see through as Dustin and the rest of his team of four disembarked.

As the shuttle’s airlock cycled behind them, he took his first look at the Moa’thif. They were a hunched, bird-like species; a thick outer plumage acted like scales over their heads and backs while what skin was visible was wrinkled and a sallow purple in coloration. In contrast to their rather vulture-like appearance, their outfits were a marvel of embroidered detail - the threads glittering with woven silver and gold lines alongside deep reds and purples. The seeming leader of the greeting party raised one feathered arm in salute.

“Greet-welcome to Earth-Envoy-Ambassador. Timing-unpleasant but fortunate-positive your visit-arrival. We-I-They understand from the words-message sent by your subordinate that you may be able-willing to provide assistance-aid in searching for the cause of the plague-destruction of our building-nesters?” The Moa’thif language translated oddly into English, but Dustin was able to piece together what their host asked regardless.

Stepping forward and checking his suit was set to use the external speakers, Dustin held out his arms to the sides, palm open in as close to the ritual greeting response posture of their hosts as his suit and the human body would allow. “Thank you for your kind greeting. We have some ideas already - do you wish us to investigate the damage immediately?”

The assembled aliens glanced at one another before their spokesperson shook it’s head. “No, that would be rude-inhospitable. We will first talk-discuss on fine construction-architecture, then explain the problem-situation before you descend-visit the roots of this spire.”

Dustin’s party were gently but firmly led from the docking bay down long corridors of metal and glass, the two seemingly bonded seamlessly together by some arcane process. When Dustin paused to examine the join of one of the many circular doorways that cut through the passage, their host chuckled. “Many alien-outsider-travellers experience the same sense of mystery-wonder at our building techniques. We have raised-grown towers on many-several worlds now for a number of species-friends. It is thanks to our little helpers, the building-nesters; we provide them food-sustenance and they provide us with home-shelter. At least, until recently…”

The Moa’thif grimaced (at least, Dustin thought it was a grimace beneath the leathery skin and heavy feathers) and gestured onward. “Come-hurry. Sooner we discuss matters, sooner we find out if you can help-assist with our problems.”

Allowing himself to be swept along, Dustin tried not to marvel too much at the delicate nature of Moa’thif construction - but when they arrived in what was apparently a meeting or briefing room he had to pause. The structure had it’s lighting embedded in the glass; when their host tapped a hidden switch, a warm glow radiated outward in circles before fracturing into pools of light from multifaceted dips and bumps in the ceiling.

The light showed a table and chairs - the latter having clearly been designed with wide spacesuits in mind, as neither Dustin nor any of his ladies had any issues fitting into them. Once their visitors were all seated, their guide sighed and sank into it’s own seat. “So. You are here-present because you believe you can help us. Before we begin-start with that, it is tradition to talk-discuss construction-architecture. What do you believe-think-feel about our little home?” It leaned forward, suddenly seeming eager and curious about the answer.

Dustin glanced around. “It’s incredible. There are pictures of crystal caves on Earth that naturally light up like this, but you’ve designed your buildings to just develop that way. To say nothing of how you’ve bonded metal and glass. And the shapes are… elegant. I don’t really have any other words for it.”

That seemed to please their host. “Your subordinate has transmitted-sent a range of images of Human’Earth building designs. We had a question-query about them, if you will humour-gift us the knowledge we seek?” The Moa’thif’s eyes were sparkling as it sought permission to inquire further. Shrugging, Dustin gestured for them to ask away - he wasn’t sure how useful he would be if they got into the wilds of building design, but he’d do his best.

“We notice-observe that you have many-several different styles at one time on your planet. Here, we develop one style-pattern until another becomes more interesting-new and takes it’s place. Do you know why your species does this? And does the change-development have any deeper meaning beyond new-updated styles in your culture-background?” The Moa’thif pulled a tablet from somewhere in it’s robes and sat looking intently at Dustin, clearly ready to record any details he might care to share.

For a moment, Dustin paused in thought, then smiled across the table. “In answer to your first question - my species was comprised of different, often warring groups before the l’Adra found us. Our difference in styles relates to different regional cultures caused by climate, background, history and conflict. While some of the design is down to resource availability or practical concerns within a wider area, over time many of our cultures add their own touches which further develop. It’s a bit like your glass buildings versus the sandstone-like structures of the Hoxx, only we developed differently within one planet and species.”

He paused for the figure opposite him to catch up, it’s leathery fingers drumming rapidly on the surface of the tablet. Once the Moa’thif representative finished typing, Dustin smiled and continued. “As far as your second comment goes - yes and no. Sometimes, new architecture is purely practical; a lot of the structures around Contact city are like that now, buildings designed for a purpose and nothing more. Other times, architectural changes can be made out of a desire to reach into the future; there was a movement that aimed to make things look modern and futuristic about a hundred years ago that still gets referenced in designs today. And other times, people look to the past to reconnect with their ancestral heritage. Did Emely send you any files on Neo-Andean architecture? That’s sort of what I mean - looking back to look forward in design.”

Their host finished typing and glanced up. “That is very helpful-assisting in allowing us to properly interpret-examine the reference images your subordinate sent us. Now that we have completed the proper-correct introductions… the problem at hand?” Dustin nodded in reply - he wanted to get on with this mission before any Fractal presence could grow any worse, but rushing their hosts could have had a negative outcome.

“It began-started around three months ago. We noticed-detected dropping numbers of repairing-construction building-nesters rising up from their main hive at the base of the spire. Normally, their lifecycle has them flow-travel through the building in great waves to reinforce-repair any damages. At first it was only a few percent dropped-lowered from normal; that could just be a natural fluctuation. But it never increase-returned. We sent teams to the base-lowest levels; you should understand, we do not travel there unless needed-required. They are the breeding ground and home-hive for the building-nesters; to visit too often would disturb-upset them.” The alien paused, face a picture of worry before continuing. “Dead nesters and dust we found. Dead nesters and dust.”

Dustin grimaced. “Do you have any clues?” he asked, not expecting anything. The Moa’thif shrugged as it replied “writing on the walls, some say-speak. But this is an old home; all our buildings on the homeworld-Thif are ancient. We do not build-construct new here, only adapt-maintain the growths of our ancestors. So odd-unreadable words on the walls are not unusual-rare.”

That didn’t give Dustin anything new to go on - and after a few more questions were exchanged with no useful answers, his little party was lead to what was apparently a maintenance elevator. To their surprise, none of their hosts got onto the platform with them; when he queried this, he got a logical if worrying answer as they began the long descent into the darkness beneath the spire. “We avoid-try to not visit the lowest levels for fear of disturbing the building-nesters. That and childhood tales-stories of cracks in the walls or things from beneath-under the growth burrowing up that make us nervous-scared to look too deep. You lack these fledgling-young fears, so will be fine. Good luck!”