Tom was sweating, and not from the heat outside his suit. He really needed to move his bowels. “Explaining the wheel to them right now isn’t going to smooth this ride or get us there any sooner. Let me concentrate.”
“Just say something, you wuss.” Angela smacked his shoulder. “We’re going to enter those gates in…” she craned her neck toward the gradually growing city, “I’m guessing around ten minutes, and once we’re in there, walking around, meeting with honchos, you’re definitely not going to say anything. I know you won’t. You’re going to end up crapping in your suit or rupturing something internal.”
“I think that’s a myth. The door would surely give way long before the walls.”
“Regardless.”
Tom stiffened his posture and raised his chin, speaking in a posh tone. “Apologies, but, notwithstanding this excruciating encumbrance, I’m like an ambassador at present. Someone of my stature does not—”
“Crap themselves in public,” Angela finished for him.
She stood up in the cart, searching for stable footing on the crops. A few seconds later, her Livetrans synth voice played loud enough for Amoss, in the cart ahead of them, to hear over the rolling din.
“Pardon me. One of us requires an excretion stop.” She pointed at Tom.
Fifteen minutes later, the carts entered the city’s main western gate. In the broad tunnel, the temperature dropped rapidly, and a cool breeze flowed from inside out. It smelled faintly acrid, like overwatered indoor plants with rotting soil. The tunnel widened abruptly and they found themselves in a large dome-shaped room where Threck moved quickly to unload the carts into baskets. Though Tom and Angela hadn’t escaped the notice of these new Threck, no one appeared to slow down or hold a glance for long. These people were well-trained and disciplined, executing their assigned duties like hive insects.
A scurrying young Threck carrying two stepstools placed one beside Tom and Angela’s cart just as Amoss and another Threck (Oose?) arrived to help them down.
“Come now, Tom and Angela, and follow Tatsis to your waiting place,” Amoss said. “Our jubilant Thinkers have been notified of your auspicious presence and currently travel to their celebrated chamber.”
“Have Syons People previously observed Threck City?” Tatsis, a somewhat smaller figure with an apparently permanent leftward lean, gestured around the substantial room. “From within or without?”
“Only from the outside,” Tom carefully replied.
And it was true. John would have never allowed a dragonfly or any other probes within the city perimeter, no matter how many assurances Minnie offered. But imaging technology certainly had no problem penetrating concrete or the Threck version of waxed canvas. The team had fairly detailed maps of all but the deepest and centermost areas of Threck City, and most everywhere else had been filled in via conversation analysis automations. This, however, did nothing to subtract from Tom’s trembling delight to actually be inside.
Boots firmly planted on the wet floor, Tom helped a grinning Angela down from the cart, and the pair followed Tatsis across the busy room. Tom tried to study everything at once. The floor was of particular interest. This was the surface upon which Threck “knee” bends must step and slide every day. While the team had assumed that everything at or below the water table would be mud, it was, in fact, covered in meticulously polished stone, like marble, and each massive slab was lined up perfectly to its neighbors, making the floor, at first glance, appear composed of a single, arena-sized piece. This flooring choice made perfect sense. Smooth against the skin, easy to keep clean, no issues with constant wetness, and surely great for sliding cargo around. Many of the paths outside the city were paved with polished stone slabs, but the crew had no idea of its extensive use inside the city.
Tatsis led them into a long, bright passageway. The tunnel’s roof was fashioned of the same purple canvas that swathed the rest of the city, draped over successive stone and mortar archways, and held taut by braided fibers. Generations ago, in the interest of temperature reduction, Threck Thinkers and Materials workers had settled on the color of the sky as the best reflector of heat. Logic dictated that the sun’s violet rays carried with them the heat one felt while standing outside. And so, if one wished to reflect these rays, the optimal material color would, of course, be violet. As far as Tom knew, no one had yet questioned this reasoning, and based upon the remarkable coolness of the interior thus far, clearly other design aspects or mechanisms were picking up the slack. The air felt damp, like a bathroom after a shower.
At the passage’s end they reached a T, and followed a new hallway left. Passers-by here were not so indifferent to the orange-clad guests’ presence.
“What are these?” A Threck stopped in front of Tatsis, even reaching out abruptly to touch Angela’s unshielded face.
Tatsis thwacked the arm away. “Guests from another land. Be on your way. City address to come.”
The curious Threck stepped back to let them pass, but remained planted in that spot, transfixed by Tom and Angela as they moved on.
The next citizen hindering their progress was not so easily dismissed.
“What are these, Tatsis? And why have I received no notice?” She was a wide one, commanding in both manner and form.
Tatsis froze and appeared to shrink even smaller in front of Tom and Angela. “Dowfwoss Fetz, I’ve come directly from Dowfwoss Amoss, delivering these to holding—”
The Dowfwoss’s eyes studied Tom and Angela as she spoke. “Before what? In wait of what? They walk on two… Where are they from? What are they for?”
“They are for learning them,” Tatsis replied, still appearing to shrivel with every passing second.
Fetz continued eyeing them. “Is one for me? Is one to open?”
Tatsis stood upright, twisted round with bulging eyes to observe Tom. She held up both arms to Fetz. “No, no, Dowfwoss! These are smart! These are Tom and Angela of Syons People.” Tatsis lowered her voice. “And they know Threck words.”
Fetz’s eyes hid and returned. She took a step toward Tom and spoke very slowly. “You understand these words?”
“Yes,” Tom’s synth replied through the PA. “Peaceful greetings, Dowfwoss Fetz. It is great pleasure to meet you and to visit Threck City.”
Fetz snapped a presumably stunned look at Tatsis. To Tom again, “You speak our words with enchanting precision! Do it again… more words!”
“We are delighted to be welcomed in your beautiful city.”
“Delighted… yes. Did you absorb my exchange with Persheck Tatsis just now?”
Tom considered how delicate to be. Clearly this Fetz was an important citizen. “I did observe this, yes, before our proper introduction.”
Fetz burst out with a melodious laugh, continuing for an awkward length. “Apologies!” she finally said. “Forgive my outburstings, as the pleasure your words incite fills my being with rivers of ecstasy! It is as if I am bathing from within! Give these to me now, Tatsis. I must never stop hearing these… What are they called?”
“Syons People,” Tatsis said. “Tom speaking, and Angela. The Thinkers were to…”
“Later!” Fetz shouted. “The Thinkers can have them later. Now, they will join me and meet the leaders. Perhaps Syons People will discover some small pleasure from us as I have from them. Assemble the council for abrupt conference.”
“I will,” Tatsis said, and scuttled away.
Fetz began walking sideways along the corridor, eyes alternating between the guests and the walkway ahead. “Come now, Syons People. Follow me and share the tale of your finding. Where did Tatsis discover you?”