That's a lovely name.

Thank you. I think naming ships will be popular. We name our favorite shiny treasures. It's simply never come up for ships before. I considered and rejected Eye of Blue and Speeding Feather. Many, many things will change soon. And I hope for that to be a good thing.

We hope so too. This could be the most important change ever to befall Amenta.

Things always change sooner or later. To change is to live. Just because the last major change was an awful war...

I have enjoyed our conversation, Artanvi Khare Otomor. But I think it will be best for me to visit the other countries I wish to visit relatively quickly, then return home, rather than lingering overmuch. So that I might return sooner.

You are welcome back at any time. Your Tuviri pocket everything can send messages to mine directly, we took the liberty of adding to the contact list, though it will not work very far from Turivi.

Good... I think I would like to fly over an Amentan city at least once before I leave, so that I can show it to my kin. Do you think Tuviri is a good place for that, or shall I look elsewhere?

If you'll give me a few minutes I can alert a seaside city so they won't be alarmed.

Slow nod, as he cuts off the thought-contact.

He dives under the water and goes back to the ship, then retrieves two other metal rods, one dark green and one gold, leaves the silver one behind, then back out to the boat.

After a few minutes the blue speaks in his mediocre Tapap: "If you go that way, there is a city. They are ready to be flown."

"Thank you. I will be brief, and I will not land."

Those are some real big wings. It seems sort of implausible for them to lift such a large body out of the water, but up and up he goes, trailing sea spray. Higher and higher - he knows how high the highest buildings here are - and over towards the city.

The city has a different architectural style from other places he's seen pictures of; it's mostly silvery metals and glass, with rills of decoration in abstract colors streaking or twirling along the sides of the skyscrapers. The trains are principally aboveground and elevated, some of them running through gaps in buildings, and some of the less trafficked, pedestrian-only streets have grass growing on them. There's a huge marina poking out into the sea beside the even larger cargo harbor, and boats are coming and going.

The other pictures he's seen were tiny, laptop-sized at most. The proper ones he got in orbit and on descent were better but still distant and from a strange angle.

This is a proper view. It's a lot prettier than he expected. Built like a hive, yes, tall towers divided into little closed-off cells. Far too enclosed and crowded. Very few plants. But there's design here, and intricacy, and shininess (which is really not the most important thing but leaves the rest of it feeling a bit more impressive). Seeing it firsthand, with the song intact, is a different experience.

They remind him of the Minisc, trains like arteries, thousands and thousands and thousands of lives that look like tiny, muddled motes from up here. Dots of color, hair. Purple, he imagines another Ahumu working on the trains. Orange, that clever Noptan, teaching someone something. A grey jogging - they probably like a different game than Kanteko.

So many. So, so, so many. Fear of their obvious trajectory, the endless multiplying, and residual worn-down hate of the humans churn in his gut, but these people are people. He likes most of the ones he's actually talked to. Animals can live and die without much greater purpose. They almost never have any kind of personality or aspiration beyond their basic natures, and it's good to keep the balance, but there's no spark of creativity in them. They can only surprise you so many times.

...He passes over the marina and heads towards the thickest, tallest part of the city.

It's full of office buildings and skyscrapers. Some people are gazing at him in wonder out the windows, jostling little children to look.

Yes, of course they should be doing that, a small part of him thinks. Mostly, he's thinking about his old friend the Artist from so long ago, and worrying.

They love their children and want to have more and more, even at the cost of overrunning other things. The news articles were anxious and hopeful. Most of the people he talked to held it in the back of their minds to a greater or lesser degree - does this mean NEW PLANETS, the greatest possible joy? What if the alien doesn't want to help us?

Compassion is not a totally alien feeling to Draak. Just not necessarily a default, and one not automatically aimed at young kin. And yet, giving Amentans exactly what they want is a problem, long-term. Factory farming, unsustainable growth, and he has a bad feeling about the red caste. He's looking forward to visiting Doet and hopefully understanding.

Countless hopeful, wondering faces. Over the skyscrapers he goes, twisting his wings to bank left and right gently. He looks to the horizon to see how far the hive/city goes.

The city's perched over a river that empties into the sea. The main metropolis is miles on a side, and smaller cities with shorter skyscrapers surround it on all non-sea sides and continue along the coast, while the non-sea-adjacent land gives way to smaller towns and farms after a while.

Too big. Too unnatural. Hive built upon hive. They could probably kill him here if they really tried, even with all his might and tools.

He turns widely and goes back to his ship, landing with a splash in the ocean.

The boat has backed off a ways from the ship, so it is only gently bobbled by the wave.

The city is beautiful, for a city. I don't think Draak will be very comfortable in urban areas.

Perhaps I should learn a radio frequency and destination to direct messages to Tuviri, if the everything might not work everywhere, for when I eventually return.

They can sure provide him with specs for that.

He tells the blue he'll be taking off in a few hours, goes back to his ship, types up everything substantial he's told either Tapa or Tuviri for emailing to various countries, takes a short nap, and pokes around the Tuviri internet for a little while if he can.

And then he's off towards Doet's rendezvous spot with another light show for takeoff, high high into the sky before travelling sideways. He emails the writeup out once he has signal again.

He can access Tuviri Internet with his Tuviri everything. There are lots of pictures of his flight over the city up.

Doet greets him with one blue, a bunch of greens, and a red they are towing in a plastic bucket-type thing behind their boat.

"Hello" speaks his trusty silver rod in Tapap. "Perhaps I should speak to the red first so they can go home. That looks not comfortable."

"- I'm sorry," says one of the greens in reasonably competent Tapap, "we didn't bring a separate boat to tow it home on a different schedule. If that's a problem we can probably get one, though."

Rather than try and articulate something into Tapap, he thinks at the translator green, Hello. Can you understand me? I'm not sure if it's a problem.

Yes, I can understand you. I think the red will be fine.