Maw agape, the young numbat graduate student stared upward at the huge, ornate construction that stood before him. The height alone awed him, at least 70m if it were a centimeter, and all that from the base of the foundation; at the moment, he was standing at the bottom of steps that led up another few vertical meters at least.

“You can satisfy your curiosity, you know."

He turned his gaze to see the soft smile on the old mountain lion's face, and he blinked, blushed, then rummaged in his pack. From there, he took out the laser sighting device, aiming it, activating it, adjusting it for his gentle shaking. It kindly calibrated on its own, rewarding him with a most patient tone when it was done. He looked to the oracle's display for information, relaying it to his mentor.

“From the ground here, the tallest point is 51.2m; the top of the steps is 2.1m above us."

“And how does that compare with your observations?"

The numbat's blush deepened. “It's shorter than I thought, although," he hastened to add, “I did get the height of the steps about right."

Nodding, the archeologist said, “You're nearer the steps, and they serve a simple, functional purpose; much easier to get that guess correct. This building is designed to give the illusion of great height, even more than it truly has. The spire lends actual height, yes, but visual height as well. Do you remember that building we found with all of the cubicles and rooms in it? A similar concept."

“Is this a similar sort of place?"

“That, dear Reginald, is what we shall discover."

Gathering his equipment, the numbat climbed the steps (a mere 14 rises) quickly, accompanying his professor and mentor across the forecourt to the huge double doors that served as the central entrance to the structure. He made note of the two sets of smaller, less ornamental double doors to either side and wondered just how many doors were truly needed for those wishing to enter or leave this place. Yet another difference from the building with all of the rooms and cubicles: There, a half-dozen identical doors opened to the street from just one third of the building's face, with yet another set of doors at either end, all facing that same street. Those doors were mostly glass, with metal frames, handles outside, push-bars inside, part of a locking mechanism. These doors were mostly wood, and the metal on it was dark, almost black, and far more ornate than practical in its use. He wondered if the functional metal, the hinges that held them and let them swing when unlocked, was shiny metal that was more like those in the doors to the, erm, what was the term that the mountain lion had used, a term to describe… ovvis bil-ding, with so many ovvises in it, that was it. This was not a place for such things.

“Well, my learned companion," the feline teased affectionately. “What do you make of this place?"

“The doors are ornate," the numbat offered, trying to live up to the confidence that the archeologist had in him. “Not like those at the ovvis bil-ding." Breathing carefully, he looked to either side of the central doors. “These are the main doors, but there are others to the left and right, as if to allow more traffic through them."

“Ingress or egress?"

“Both, of course, but…" Considering a moment longer, the younger male nodded. “Egress. I might be able to prove it."

He looked up cautiously, afraid that he might have spoken out of turn, but the archeologist nodded, smiling, gesturing at the door.

Pulling at the large wooden handle on the door, the numbat was only mildly surprised to discover that nothing impeded him; the hinges sounded as if they could do with a drop of lubrication, but there were no bars or locks from inside to keep anyone out. He swung the door wide, looked down, then grinned at his discovery. Using a hindpaw, he put down the doorstop, its rubber-like pad seeming to grip the concrete with a familiar embrace.

Laughing supportively, the archeologist duplicated the maneuvers with the other door, so that both stood open wide.

“Well done, Reginald! Now, explain your reasoning to me."

This was his mentor's way of teaching: The numbat would put forth his ideas, and the mountain lion would not deride him for being “wrong" but instead offer suggestions to guide him toward correct answers.

“These main doors are large and central to the building, where anyone coming in or going out would be the focus of attention. The side doors might be used for entering, but they would more likely be used as exits. This building was used as a gathering place, where a large number of beings would assemble at specific times, for a specific purpose."

“And how did you come to that conclusion?"

Reggie touched the door gently, removing his forepaw after a moment. “The shape of the structure, the colored glass of the windows to each side it, these ornate doors… different from the box-like shape and purely functional nature of the ovvises that we saw elsewhere. I have the sense of ceremony here, something designed to touch the emotions, like our own ceremonial spaces…"

Blushing, the numbat paused. He was all too aware that he could ramble. The archeologist (he had said that Reggie could call him “Jamar," although the younger male could never quite bring himself to refer to Dr. Blue Sky by his first name) was always patient, but it was best to reign himself in a bit when went off on tangents.

Clearing his throat, he said, “If that part is true, then my assumption would be that those beings might assemble over a period of time prior to the assigned beginning of the ceremony. They would arrive in their own time, some earlier than others. After the ceremony, they would likely pour from the building all together, needing more exits to avoid blocking the central doors. Also, if the ceremony was particular to a set of celebrants, those might be the center of some attention upon ingress and egress; allowing the great majority to exit by the side doors would allow the special celebrants preferred passage through the central doors."

“Excellent!" the mountain lion approved, adding the soft plaudits of his forepaws. “Perfectly sound; a working hypothesis at the very least."

Reggie basked in his mentor's praise, yet it did not swell his head. He had learned much from Dr. Blue Sky, including the difference between being pleased and being prideful. It's pleasant to gain confidence from learning and making strong deductions; it's prideful to assume you're always going to be right. He also had reason to think that this building, although not yet explored by the archeologist, was similar to ones that he had already visited. Again, it was the doctor's way: to encourage thinking and conjecture on the student's part, to learn by guidance and discovery. After you learn the basics, he had said in his classes, you must undertake each exploration as if nothing like it had ever before been attempted. One day, you'll be right.

“Now then, my young friend," the archeologist said, gently, “shall we enter?"

“A question first, if I may?" Receiving a nod, the numbat continued. “You have visited structures like this before, I think?" Another nod. “Am I correct that this was a place of ceremonies?"

“Yes."

There was another question on his lips, but he changed it into a statement. “Then we shall explore what ceremonies they might have had here."

“Good." Blue Sky patted Reggie's shoulder with an affectionate forepaw. “No assumptions about what kind. Right?"

The twinkle in the cat's eye made the younger male chuckle. “Absolutely none!"

Both of them had made a guess, by this time; Reggie was certain of his own guess. It just had that feel to it. At the doctor's broad gesture, the numbat turned and, slowly, set paw inside the threshold. The sunlight from outside lit more of the entrance than he had first guessed. Even so, he moved carefully to the side and let his eyes focus on the darker interior, giving them a chance to adjust. His first glimpses of the foyer space around him showed considerable dust yet little disarray. It was much like what he had seen in the other structures they had investigated in this place, this sitty, where there was so little grass for the hindpaws or open space for breathing. He had heard of places like this, in his classes, in his readings, and until now, what he knew was the abstraction. Now…

<span style="font-size:11pt;line-height:115%;font-family:'Century Schoolbook', serif;">He reached a forepaw to touch the wall nearest him. It was made of stone, although not natural stones. The majority of this <i>sitty</i> was covered in it. The research into documents and writings found in this world was still new; translations were at first slowed by the discovery of many languages, even many forms of symbols that made up words. Several varieties of writings were more pictographs than words made of letters, and there were many sets of letters found in the writings of this world. Reggie was sure that linguists were enjoying the headfur-pulling issues of deciphering it all.</span>

<span style="font-size:11pt;line-height:115%;font-family:'Century Schoolbook', serif;">Happily, these beings had created forms of video and audio recordings which, once the scientists had figured out how to power and use the devices for actuating these recordings, helped them to hear sounds of words and, eventually, to associate them with letter sounds. One group of letters was the most consistent, and words from the <i>russkiy yazyk</i> were easily learned. These beings had attempted to bridge gaps themselves, creating courses of study from that base language into others. In this portion of this world, the letter collection was confusing and inconsistent in its usage (how could the grouped letters of <i>plow</i> and <i>plough</i> be allowed to sound the same, or <i>plow</i> and <i>slow</i> to sound different?), but he struggled to work with it.</span>

<span style="font-size:11pt;line-height:115%;font-family:'Century Schoolbook', serif;">No one had settled on which word represented this type of artificial stone. In the base language, the word <i>konkretnyy</i> described it, although it might also be <i>tsement.</i> Whatever the word, the substance was solid and (inside the various structures, at least) cool to the pads of his forepaw.</span>

“Does it tell you anything?" asked the archeologist.

In truth, the numbat thought that the stone structure could tell him a lot, but science told him to separate such impressions from things more empirical. “Like other structures made of this substance, it is meant to be solid, long-lasting, even practical. Here, though, it's also meant to be ornate. That structure we saw elsewhere, with the depictions and honed stonework in it…?"

“Museum."

“Yes." The younger male recognized the sound of the generally-accepted word in this area, if not the spelling; the word in the base language was close: muzey. “The myoo-see'm, was meant to be strong, to protect the work that we saw there, but the walls themselves were not meant to be artistic. Here, they seem to be part of the purpose of the building."

After several seconds of silence, Reggie looked to his mentor, worried that he might have erred somehow. The old mountain lion continued to look at him, slowly coming to nod his head. “Yes," the feline said softly. “A perfectly valid point." Another moment or two, and then he smiled, nodding toward the doors leading further into the structure. “Shall we peek further in?"

“Do we need to document—?"

“We shall keep our own mental record, although this structure is much like others of its kind that have been well-explored."

“But not this one, so perhaps we should…?"

Nodding sagely, the archeologist smiled with benevolence. “You are conscientious and thorough, my fine student. That is part of why I wanted you along with me. This journey, however, is for you to get some exposure to your chosen field of study — to experience Transport, to explore a site directly, to develop your skills of observation, and yes, even to learn how to camp safely and with the least disturbance to your surroundings."

The young male smiled. “To leave the least pawprint possible."

“Exactly. So," spake Dr. Blue Sky with gusto, “shall we enjoy ourselves?"

With a laugh, Reggie nodded vigorously, made sure his pack sat properly on his shoulders, and moved toward the inner doors. At the entrance, he activated his lantern, then felt the elder's forepaw gently on his arm.

“No light, at first," he said.

“It will be darker inside than in the entrance."

“Perhaps, although if this structure is like others I've seen… Let's find out for ourselves first."

Another nod from the young student, albeit a tentative one. He knew that the professor would not play a prank on him nor put him in danger, but it seemed strange to enter such an enclosure without a light. Obediently, he switched off the lantern and, with his mentor's assistance, opened both doors toward himself. Even before he padded inside, he gasped and let his wide-open eyes drink in what they saw.

Through colored glass set high up in the outer walls, light spilled into the cavernous interior. Looking carefully at the windows, so as not to ruin his night vision, Reggie saw that the pictures they made were imperfectly repeated in the space; they were not meant to be used as projectors. The effect was still beautiful, even with the windows partly obscured by dust and lack of maintenance. Colors rested gently upon the surfaces of the central pathway that lay between rows of wooden benches with backs (although no space to accommodate a tail, unless one wrapped it around one's legs), culminating in an area set off by a low wall. Within that area, even the dim light showed steps leading up to a raised platform. The young male felt a shiver run through him to accompany the certainty of a thought that shimmered across his mind.

“This must have been a place of worship."

“Full marks, my fine protégé," the archeologist murmured, matching the soft tones his student had adopted. “This corresponds with your observations about the ornate nature of the doors, yes?"

“It does indeed." The numbat smiled reaching to place his forepaw on the upraised side of a wooden structure, yanking it back sharply when he heard the screams.

The mountain lion turned to him. “Are you all right, Reginald?"

“Of course."

“You just seemed upset."

“With myself, yes." He smiled as nonchalantly as he could. “It wouldn't do to show disrespect by disturbing too much."

“I see." After another pause, the archeologist straightened himself up and smiled. “Perhaps we can activate the lanterns now, and we will see what this structure has to tell us about those who built it."

Two beams came on at the touch of their switches. Many shadows retreated, as did the windows' colors when the beams covered their places on the floor or the benches. Reggie wasn't sure if even this might be a touch of disrespect, but perhaps the beings who left this place behind wouldn't have minded. This structure was designed for them to gather, and it contained aesthetics, touches of symmetry and beauty, which spoke to a beautiful turn of mind (the screams notwithstanding). Perhaps those beings would want their structure appreciated even after their passing.

Swinging his light slowly, the numbat took in as much as he could with his eyes. He saw many clues that might add up, once taken together. For example, upon the benches lay a great many copies of what appeared to be the same bound volume; this was significantly different from the structure that held a great variety of bound volumes, usually one copy of each. The structures themselves also had different names, in different collections of letter-symbols, but the archeologists had agreed that the most common, most frequently found word for such places sounded like bib-lee-oh-tek-ah. Glancing at one of the volumes on a bench, he recognized the letters imprinted upon the front. They represented the sounds for bib-lee, which made some sort of sense. Reggie felt that he would benefit from exploring more of the collected research into the languages of these beings.

Listening to the variations of the echoes made by their quiet movements, the student put a forepaw to his mentor's arm. He gestured for silence, then drew a careful breath and sang a single, crystal clear, open-mawed note, beginning softly and rising slowly in volume until cutting it off gently. The tone hung briefly in the air after he had finished. The numbat shared the grin that the archeologist had given him.

“You sing very well," the professor said quietly.

“Thank you." Reggie's ears tipped back in embarrassment. “The acoustics here are amazing. This structure was made for voices."

“I believe so, yes; there's reason to think that ceremonies were led by one or more select few beings, but also that those attending the ceremonies were expected to raise their voices in response at specified times and in certain ways. It is likely that they, too, sang."

“And they all vanished?"

His grin diminishing to a sad smile, the mountain lion nodded. “There are a few theories about that. We'll discuss them at the appropriate time. This is still a paws-on visit to get you used to things. Let's move a bit further in, shall we?"

“Of course." The numbat kept his voice soft, partly out of respect for the surroundings, partly to avoid unnecessary echoes or resonance. The aftereffects could make one's fur crawl.

Padding further down the central passage, the two explorers swung their beams slowly, in no hurry for anything beyond an evening meal that could wait a few more hours. For his own part, Reggie would gladly push it back further, in order to keep exploring. Classrooms, documentation, and indirect research were all fine; actually being on-world, exploring a sitty like this one, entering structures, teasing out their secrets for himself… that was what learning, discovering, was all about.

“Well," said his mentor softly. “This is unexpected."

Reggie looked first to the professor, then to the spot where his lantern beam had stopped. The numbat resisted the impulse to jump physically. Neither he nor had his mentor had thought to find bodily remains. It was one of the reasons that this world had been chosen for the graduate student's first exploration.

“How are you feeling, Reginald?"

Swallowing past a click in his throat, the young male managed to say, “I think I'm okay."

“We can abort entirely, or go back to the campsite to rest… whatever you may need."

“I don't—" He shook himself once through, his lantern beam shaking with him, momentarily spooking him further. In his mind, he called upon his best self-image, the one that had earned this expedition, the one that was “older than his years" (as Dr. Blue Sky had told him), the one that could handle shock and surprise. The one, he knew, that could handle experiencing sounds and voices that no one else heard.

Clearing his throat once more, Reginald Brandon Waggoner looked to his companion and finished his thought. “I don't think we need to abort, Professor, unless there is danger from contagion or contamination of some kind."

“No, Reginald," the mountain lion demurred softly, his expression thoughtful. “Other expeditions have determined that the population of this world was not killed by contagion; there is no evidence of any biological danger here."

“Then let's stay. I will be grateful if you'd take the lead here. I'm feeling out of my depth."

In truth, the numbat felt scrutinized, albeit with genuine concern, not with suspicion. He felt himself slowly growing more calm after his initial scare; with that greater sense of security, he found that he could smile at his mentor, reconnecting with him. The archeologist smiled in return, nodding.

“Welcome back, Reginald. Thank you." To his student's puzzled look, he said, “For proving how right I was to bring you here. Now… let's take a closer look at our discovery."

Allowing Dr. Blue Sky the lead, the younger male kept close behind, ready to assist and to learn. The old mountain lion squatted carefully and pondered over the remains for perhaps half a minute before looking back over his shoulder at his student.

“Now, my fine associate, look here, and tell me what you see."

Crouching down, hindpaws digitigrade, ears forward, tail still with concentration, Reginald began his observations. “Skeletal remains of a bipedal being, clad in cloth from the neck… excuse me, from what appears to be a neck, down the body, and ending at four appendages. Two appendages appear to end in structures similar to forepaws, with five phalanges each; the other two appendages end in structures that are covered in some sort of… I'll go with 'unidentified substance,' since I haven't a clue."

With a soft chuckle, the professor acknowledged the professionalism. “How does this body compare to the artifacts you've seen here? Depictions, stonework, and so on?"

“The beings of this world…" The student paused, considering. “The working theory is that this world was under the domination of these bipedal beings, that the land and life that existed here was actually at the mercy of these beings. The depictions of other life, and the life still detected in regions far away from these sittys, more closely resemble ourselves; they do not, however, have developed forepaws to construct places like this.

“From my observations of the depictions that we have seen — particularly those apparently produced by optical-mechanical means, like our own recorders — this body approximates those, at least in its general form. No evidence of tail, no horns or antlers. The depictions show what I imagine to be ears; since they aren't apparent here, I surmise that, like our own ears, they are not made of bone. These beings did not have fur, save for a type of fur atop their heads or, with some males, on their faces." He smiled a little. “Nearly all of the depictions that I have seen show these beings covered by cloth; in the artistic depictions, most that show their subjects without cloth coverings do not show any sort of fur-like covering. My guess would be that they needed these coverings primarily because they had no fur to protect themselves against weather."

“We do not always parade about furclad ourselves," the mountain lion chuckled. “However, these beings do seem to have had a great disadvantage, not having fur, feathers, hides, scales… They had to develop other methods of protecting their bodies. As you saw in the older pigment-based depictions, the methods range widely over centuries, and not all of them were practical."

“Nor equally distributed, it would seem." Reginald shook his head, even as Reggie wanted to make a less-than-professional observation about how stupid these beings seemed to be. The budding archeologist bade the inner rambunctious joey to sit and be quiet for a while. “Even some of the recorder-produced depictions show a variety of beings who appeared to be in poor circumstance, whether for cloth or housing, perhaps even for other necessities. It goes against the logic of species preservation and interspecies cooperation in support of it. It is damaging for all if any are struggling to live."

The professor grunted as he shifted out of his squat. Reginald followed suit, if only to be nearer eye-level with his mentor. “You think as you have grown to think, as I have grown to think. We were raised in our world, being who we are because of our millennia of existence and development. These beings were all of one species but not of one mind, nor even one common good. As you said yourself, it goes against logic. Our own world is far from perfect, but we retained the learning from our origins, before we became sapient."

“We held ourselves close to our nature. We watched nature, learned, cooperated. How did nature here create such an evolution as these beings?"

“My dear Reginald," Dr. Jamar Blue Sky said mildly, “whatever makes you think that they were natural?"

He shone his beam upward to the far wall, where the nearly naked, furless figure, cast in some pale resin hung sprawled in its eternal agony. Metal spikes, represented in resin, caused wounds that bled darkly, captured in that same resin. The entire figure was streaked and covered with other wounds, other blood, as if stained by life's liquid expression and left to dry. This grisly depiction was the focus of the entire chamber, the center of attention at the end of the central passage in which they stood, the point to which all of the structure, all of its visual lines and perspectives, drew the eyes. This place of worship was to celebrate the gruesome murder of one of their own.

The numbat gasped, hoping he had come to the wrong conclusion. He found himself wobbly on his hindpaws, reached to one of the benches to steady himself, held briefly, pulled back his forepaw when he heard the screams again. The momentum carried him to one side, where he nearly tripped over the remains at his hindpaws. In the last second, he let himself give in to the call of gravity, rolling with the fall to avoid hurting himself on the hard floor, righting himself into a sitting position. The figure loomed even larger from this perspective, the pierced appendages seeming even more sinister, the resin-hard depiction of dried blood seeming to move, ooze, flow, creep closer, and he looked away quickly while his breath gasped and caught in his throat.

Despite any physical issues he might have had, the older male was at his side quickly, kneeling close, putting a protective arm around his shoulders. “Reginald, are you all right?"

The mountain lion's presence was familiar, comforting, safe, and the young male reached around him, holding on to him. “Will be," panted softly. In his mind, he pressed gently against the thoughts and impressions trying to crowd in on him. Being angry with them would only bring them closer; the soft requests, he had learned, gave them little power to use against him. He focused on breathing, on remembering himself, on who and where and when he was. Within half a minute, he gave his mentor a squeeze and separated himself slowly from the embrace.

Seating himself upon his heels, Blue Sky looked at Reginald with an expression that the numbat felt was something like satisfaction. Quietly, he asked, “What did you encounter?"

It was too much for him to hope that his expression of startled surprise wasn't expressed physically. He let his silence ask his questions.

“You have had a response, a reaction, to touching things in this world. Not just here; you have withdrawn your forepaw from other things, in other places. Here, your response is more acute."

Attempting a chuckle, the numbat asked, “Are you observing me so closely, Professor?"

“Not for the first time. I have been watching you for a few years, as my student and my colleague… and, I hope, as a friend."

The younger male could not suppress his surprise, mild though it was. This sort of openness was not known in his life, for many reasons. He did not mistrust his mentor's words; he could feel, easily, their sincerity. It was the fact that the mountain lion had actually said them that made him pause.

Rising slowly to his hindpaws, the professor observed, “Perhaps we should adjourn for the day. We both need some rest, and I think it's time that I told you why I chose you specifically for this little expedition."

He extended a forepaw to the numbat, who took it gently and used it to help him stand on slightly shaky legs. Something had changed, and it was Reggie who asked, “Are you upset with me?"

“Quite the contrary. I am even more certain that you are the right choice. Come, let's go back to our camp. I have a story to tell you."

“About what happened here? About why I'm here?"

“Yes," Dr. Blue Sky said softly, “and about who you are."

…to be continued