Somewhere in the structure, somewhere in the near-perfect blackness, something moved. Nothing with flesh, nothing even with the outer plates of nasekomoye, but it moved. Reggie's eyes could not see it, not even his non-physical eyes could see it, but in his fur, he felt it, darkly shimmering somewhere just beyond the glow of the camp lanterns. It did not slither and slink, was not furtive or plotting; it simply was, and its movement was something imagined, felt, sensed peripherally, right at the edges of one's Self, like the edges of the light and just as impossible. Light didn't have edges, and neither did the Self, yet that's part of one's experience. In truth, one experienced the impossible often, perhaps even daily, and it was up to each individual to decide if he wanted to acknowledge it, accept it, deal with it, or try to ignore it, block it out, dismiss even the possibility of the impossible.

The impossible, of course, remained, unmoved by attempts to deny it.

Reggie had thought about this, sensed it, for what felt like a very long time before finally managing to fall asleep. As he woke, with the first rays of sunlight trying to peek into the spaces between the levels of the structure in which he lay, he had those moments between waking and sleep where he had a paw in both worlds. The mind worked on problems during the night, sometimes through dreams, sometimes in the background; in these in-between moments, answers are revealed, if one can capture them.

With slow breaths, the young male came fully awake, considering the feelings more than the answers. They weren't separate, but they had different textures. At one point, he rubbed his forepaw pads gently against one another, as if he could sense those textures with them. He realized soon enough that his decision had been made; he was merely delaying.

Rolling over in his cot, he looked over to Jamar's own bunk. The mountain lion appeared to be still dozing, and Reggie found himself tempted to let him sleep for as long as he wished. More delaying. As the light levels increased naturally, the lanterns would dim and, eventually, extinguish themselves. The change in the type of light is something that one can sense without having one's eyes open, which is another of those impossible things that everyone experiences without thinking about its illogical nature. Jamar would wake on his own soon, and Reggie found himself wanting to treat his friend with greater respect.

Friend. The numbat tried on the word as he put on his clothing. It made a difference in how he thought and, yes, felt about the cat. It was a good difference; it was just new. He shook his head, dismissing the analysis. Another delaying tactic. He would help his friend wake gently by preparing some food for the morning. Jamar was the better cook, but Reggie was up to the task of making a simple breakfast, even on a camp stove.

Padding silently to the supply chests, he found what he needed and set about his preparations. On this world, a popular bean-based stimulant called kohvye was described as particularly aromatic, and it could be prepared, hot or cold, with any number of additions, creating many variants. He wondered, as he prepared the leaf-based stimulant from his own world, if they smelled at all alike. Along with the food he was making, the aromas should make a very pleasant combination of scents to wake up to.

He hadn't long to wait. After only a few minutes, a resounding sniff was followed by a deeply appreciative, sighing moan. “Good morning," the mountain lion said, “with an emphasis on 'good'."

Reggie chuckled softly. “I hope this meal measures up to such a response."

“You may have noticed, my friend, that any food you don't have to prepare yourself always tastes good."

“Point taken!"

The professor dressed as Reggie continued his preparations. Neither spoke, and the numbat was aware of the low current of anticipation flowing, waiting to make a spark, to arc into conversation, connection. The plates were readied quickly, and Jamar had sat himself down with a smile on his muzzle, only the slightest signs of his concern and anticipation showing. Setting a plate down in front of the feline, Reggie put a forepaw to the cat's shoulder.

“Yes, Jamar. The answer is yes. I'll need your help to prepare… but I will try for you."

Reggie was moved by the warmth in his mentor's eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The air seemed refreshed from the night's rain, and the morning sun shone warmly on the sitty. The two friends stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the ceremonial structure they had visited the afternoon before. Reggie again felt the height of the spire, the visual weight of the structure, but he did not feel the fear that he had expected. His talk with his mentor, his friend, had helped a great deal. Chuckling, he pointed at the entrance. In their haste, last evening, they had left the doors propped open.

“We can pretend that it is welcoming us back."

Jamar, too, enjoyed the joke. “Better to feel welcomed than not." He turned to the young numbat. “Do you feel welcomed, Reggie? Or do you think Reginald better equipped?"

“Definitely Reggie. My clinical side has his advantages, but a certain amount of vulnerability, of empathy, will serve best."

“I agree." Taking a breath, the mountain lion said, “If you're ready…?"

Reggie nodded. “Let's make the ascent."

Only moments later, they stood just inside the structure again. They let their eyes adjust to the dimmer light here, and they both carried lanterns, as they had yesterday. The grad student and professor, the younger and elder, the two friends, had talked about what to do here and how to go about it. The frightening features of the interior chamber would not be as threatening the second time, at least not visually. Horror revisited is still horrific, but not as shocking as the first encounter.

It was Jamar who realized that the inner doors could be held open by the same type of mechanism as the main door; these were metal with some other substance at the bottom that seemed to grip the cloth-like substance underpaw. Some of the natural light from outside penetrated a short distance into the chamber, and a few of the panels of colored glass, high up the walls, faced the rising sun, making a different sort of glow than those on the opposite side, which had caught the lowering sun yesterday. Again, Reggie felt that there was beauty in some of the things these bipedal beings had made, had felt. How had they ended as they had?

The numbat breathed slowly, switching on his lantern. He glanced at his friend and nodded once. Padding slowly up the aisle was, he realized to his chagrin, an admixture of reverence in respect of the structure and another delaying tactic. All too soon, they were at the front bench, where lay the remains that they had found yesterday. He took Jamar's forepaw into his own. “Step One," he said quietly.

Squeezing the forepaw gently with his own, Jamar nodded.

Reggie heard the cat breathe deeply, felt a kind of shifting in both of them, and the younger male felt the connection that they had forged together. The bond was strong, full, an anchor that would not pull free. He had no idea how much his friend might feel or absorb through this link, but he knew that he could rely upon it to keep him safe.

“Dva," he said, reverting to the base language of this world.

He raised the beam of his lantern upward, lighting the grotesque figure, spiked to a wooden form, depicting a body flogged by some cruel means, left to bleed out his life in a manner too horrifying to credit to a sapient species. That, perhaps, was the nature of sapience. Non-sapient beings could fight, even kill, but only for survival; sapience brought with it the choices of cruelty or charity. His own world was not perfect, but the majority chose peaceful cooperation, mutual growth, forestalling ignorance and want in favor of a global sense of Pack. These beings, who called themselves leh-oo-dyeh, separated themselves first from all other beings, then separated into their own groups, smaller and smaller until…

The squeezing of his forepaw brought him out of his reverie. He turned to smile at his friend. “Thank you, Jamar. Just trying to understand this, and I'm not at all sure how to process it. Maybe later."

“Perhaps," the feline acknowledged. “With further study, other researchers may be able to translate and understand the origins of this strange place and its contradictory symbols and images." He paused, then asked gently, “Do you need some time?"

Deep breath in, out, slowly. “Let's set up the lantern."

Using the poles from the campsite, the explorers set up one of the lanterns to create a glow at half its available power. The interior of the structure had some light filtering through the windows; the lanterns cautioned some of the more recalcitrant shadows to keep their distance. It also lit the remains with a softer, more general light than the strong spot produced by the lanterns in their portable form. Reggie found it somehow more respectful.

Jamar glanced at the remains, then at the bench near them, then to Reggie. This too was part of what they had discussed. The young grad student managed a nervous chuckle. “You realize that we can't use any of this as verifiable data?"

A soft smile was the mountain lion's only reply. It was what Reggie had expected. He nodded once.

“Let's try the bench first."

The two clasped forepaws again, opened themselves to each other, made ready. After only another moment's hesitation, the numbat gripped the top of the bench. The screaming began instantly, incessant, deafening, incoherent. Incomplete images, absolute terror, confusion, chaos. The mind-cramping horrors flooded into him, a vast whirling maelstrom, seizing, ripping, tearing, terrifying—

He released the bench with a gasp, staggering as he felt the mountain lion's forepaw yanking him away from pandemonium, steadying him as best he could.

“Easy, Reggie," the cat said. “Come on; let's sit on the floor before we both tumble onto it."

It wasn't easy, since neither wanted to break the grounding grip. Reggie made the transition first, something just short of collapsing, then helped Jamar by using both forepaws. They continued holding on to each other as the student tried to regain his breath. “Too much," he panted. “Too much noise, images, anything, everything…"

The mountain lion shushed gently. “Time, Reggie, take your time. Breathe. Focus on me… that's it… here and now…"

His breathing slowly becoming more regular, the numbat nodded. They had discussed this as well, talked about how to manage it. Reggie had little difficulty when touching or handling most things because, as he had put it to Jamar, most things aren't inherently traumatized. As a rule, public places aren't witness to grotesque horrors, and whole, solid structures aren't physically wounded. Some places are imbued with emotions that are appropriate to them, such as the ceremonial joining grounds, or the playing fields where so many cheered the good-natured rivalries of their favorite teams. Love, animation, competition, camaraderie, all the strong and happy emotions that filled so many special places in his home world. Here…

“Something happened here."

Jamar nodded. “The great majority of this world had something happen to it."

“Not like here." Reggie's breathing was more regular, his mind was returning to his own control. “Other structures didn't have this feeling, this overwhelming emotion. So much… Could you feel it, hear it?"

“More indirect," the mountain lion said, squeezing the younger male's forepaw gently. “I sensed that you were feeling something huge, painful, but that was as much as I could tell. Can you put words to it?"

The young male's ears splayed somewhat. “Terror. Absolute, unbridled terror. Screaming, wordless, primal, feral, mindless…" He shut his eyes against it, inhaled deeply, held it for a short time, exhaled slowly, not letting the crushing emotion take hold inside himself. This was another key factor that they had discussed: The impressions were separate from his experiences, they were not his own. “I can't tell what happened in this place, what specific event, only that it happened to a great many of these beings, crowded into this place."

He looked up at the grotesque resin figure on the wall. “I thought it was connected to that, as if this place was a celebration of the horror struck upon that being, that beings came here to scream their pain to match the pain of that being." He shook his head. “It's not like that. I don't feel that the screaming that I sensed, that I heard inside my mind, was part of what this structure is for. This was not a place for worshiping pain."

Jamar nodded slowly. “That is why I did not instruct you to read what information we have been able to garner about this world. For one thing, the opinions and papers are wildly divergent; some are more scholarly than others, with citations and cross-referencing with other documents in this world, but there is great disagreement over the findings."

The mountain lion's whiskers turned upward with his rueful smile. “It is not scholarly to say that an explanation 'feels' right, or perhaps has 'the ring of truth.' My opinion — much colored by my feelings, I freely admit — is that these beings had a great variety of mythologies surrounding the creation of the world, of deities and sub-deities, of ways to honor them, and rules to follow in order to please them. In theory, at least, these belief systems were meant to guide these beings toward acceptance and mutual benevolence. My sense is that the us-versus-them mentality that caused nearly all of these beings to be obliterated permeated even these belief systems, with so many seeming to insist that theirs is the 'one true system,' that the others were hostile to their own, subversive, dangerous."

“Paradox." The younger male tasted the word, found it faintly bitter but true. Looking up at the colored glass panels, he said, “They knew beauty but could not live it."

“Some could. Some did. Perhaps our friend here…?" He flicked his glance to the remains nearby, back to the numbat.

Reggie breathed slowly again. Individual objects, regularly handled by one furson, often carried impressions that are likewise singular to that individual. Where the benches bore witness to whatever agonies had happened here, the screams of hundreds of beings, items left on the remains might have a single, quieter voice.

“If this being wasn't here when… well, when the Event happened, then the remains might…" He swallowed. “I don't think I can touch the bones."

“Perhaps he has some object on him. Are you all right here, for a moment?"

Nodding, Reggie helped Jamar disentangle themselves from each other. The feline opted to cover the very short distance on all four paws, moving only a little stiffly. Reggie smiled softly to himself, observing the greater ease of movement as the indication of being excited, on the hunt for an archeological treasure, some clue or remnant that might tell more about this strange culture. The professor did what he could to avoid disturbing the remains themselves while conducting his search; they were, after all, sufficiently anomalous to merit closer documentation. After a time, he found something in a pocket of the fabric garment that covered the remains, and he returned to sit next to the younger male, keeping the object hidden in his forepaw.

“I'm not a touch-knower," Jamar said, “but I do have the sense that this object was important to the being. I saw a metal band on a phalange of one ruka, as these beings called their forepaws, but I wasn't sure that I could remove it without damaging the bones. This is the only other physical artifact that I could find, apart from the clothing, which suggests that it was of singular significance. I'll show it to you. Don't touch it yet. Put your forepaw to my shoulder, Reggie; we may both need the grounding."

The numbat coughed a chuckle and did as requested. He looked with interest as the cat revealed the object in his forepaw: a metal disc perhaps 44-45mm in diameter, with a protuberance on the edge of the perhaps 14-15mm thickness. The face of the disc held a curious yet beautiful design etched into it, looking like a pathway, circular, maze-like, that folded in upon itself many times, yet still held a sense of order.

“What is this item?" Reggie asked.

“I believe it is a chronometer, what the base language calls a karmannyye chasy. I have seen one of these described, and I think…"

Jamar held the disk on the palm of one forepaw, with the protuberance pointed away from him. With the other, he placed his thumb at the base and his primary finger on the nub at the top. He pushed his finger down, and the surface of the disk popped open, hinged to their left. Reggie gazed upon the interior of the disk, knowing that it must be able to report the time to its owner, but he wasn't clear how. It appeared to have twelve demarcations, which would only make sense if the beings had evolved with twelve phalanges. The professor, however, nodded as if confirming his own ideas.

“This object has an inscription. See it etched inside the cover? I am not as familiar with this lettering as I am with the base language letters. Some of these letters might represent the being's name. Look, there are two letters followed by a stop-mark of punctuation. That might represent some honorific or title. There are also numbers here which I think comprise a calendar date; if so, it suggests that this chronometer was a gift bestowed on that date, to commemorate something."

Nodding, Reggie observed, “That would explain the being's keeping the object readily to paw… or, well, ruka, I suppose."

“Just so." Jamar closed the protective lid, held the device in one forepaw, shifting his gaze slowly to his young friend. “Would you like to try?"

Taking another breath, the numbat let his fur settle, his tail still, his stomach quit trying to succumb to the fear. This was important to his mentor, his friend, and he wanted to help him. Jamar also wanted to protect him, not exploit him. He would accept Reggie's decision, whatever it was. They would probably take the object with them, catalog it, register it properly, let others examine it, adding to the store of knowledge that was, after all, the purpose of these expeditions. The abilities of a touch-knower were grudgingly acknowledged as “real" by the scientific community in general, but the impressions that touch-knowers provided were not considered part of official discovery. Knowing was not tangible, verifiable evidence.

“Okay," he said, patting his friend's shoulder. “Let's get comfortable."

Shifting themselves, the explorers sat cross-legged on the floor, facing each other, knees touching, Reggie's right forepaw grasping Jamar's left. The mountain lion asked, “Do you want to take the object yourself?"

“Hold it there, and I'll hold it with you." He looked into his mentor's eyes. “Don't let me get lost."

“Never." The feline held out his forepaw, palm up, the chronometer centered upon it. Without dropping his gaze, the numbat reached out and covered it with his own.

A life enfolded him.

There was no overwhelming cry, no screaming as with the benches, no intensity as with Jamar, simply the vast impressions of a life, whirling, teasing, cascading through him. He felt over everything that touched him in return, giving him glimpses, asking his forgiveness, begging for a voice, lacking for words…

Reggie felt his forepaws squeezed gently. The silent signal reinforced the look that still held him fast. “Yes," he whispered. “I'm here. He is here. Him. He was male. He was alone, yet he… Jamar, he was gentle and fulfilled." The numbat shook his head. “No words, no specifics, just the feelings."

“That's good, Reggie." The feline's soft praise resonated in the space. “Follow the feelings; those threads may yet weave the cloth."

“Oh! That's…" He breathed gently. “That phrase, as if it made a memory stronger. 'The cloth.' It was important to him, as if it were something that defined him. 'Of the cloth' feels more correct." Nodding, feeling rightness, letting the life in. “He was connected to this place. He wasn't here when… I can't tell what happened to all these beings, but what I feel from this object… That idea, that horrifying radiation that you described to me… perhaps it was that after all. I think this being, this male 'of the cloth,' was far away from here when it was unleashed. He came back to find… this…"

Reggie felt the click in his throat, and Jamar must have heard it. The cat moved to release the forepaw that held the chronometer, but the numbat squeezed just a little tighter.

“It's okay, Jamar. I'm still here. I'm just feeling his… loss. The horrible loss." He blinked, just ordinary reflex, still looking into his mentor's eyes, still there, still here. “It's as powerful as those screams, but it's one voice, his own voice, asking why it happened. That's what is taking place most in my mind, my heart. The question why, why had it come to this, and… oh, Jamar, there are other feelings here, other memories."

“What are they, Reggie? Tell me what you can."

The numbat swallowed, feeling a tear forming in his eye. “He mourned, Jamar, for loss of life, friends, others associated with this place, but also for all of the beings of this world. He hurt for the beauty. Does that make sense at all?"

“Follow it," the feline urged, “just a bit more."

Reggie's first impulse was to push, dig further, but it didn't work. It blocked him; he felt pushed not into the sensations but further away from them. He made himself relax, preparing to try again, when he realized his mistake, the one he had always made. Don't block; open. Don't push away; permit, admit, allow. Accept.

“Beauty hurts, doesn't it? Hurts and heals, both." The tear had grown, and it trickled down the numbat's furry cheek. “He felt so much of the beauty, this being; he saw so much to love, so much that brought joy, and he felt the loss of it… no, he felt the beings who had given up that joy, who had lost the beauty. It was all around, if only they would see it. He saw it even as he died." Reggie shook his head a little. “No, I don't know how he died, only that he was away when all this happened. He returned, came back to this sitty, this structure, as if called. Calling. Another word that… well, rings, especially with this space. He returned here, and… The emotion is of a huge disbelief; he could not believe that this had really… Oh, Jamar, I wish I had words of his language. I sense that words are there, just beyond my grasp, but that I can't hear them properly enough to attach meaning to the sounds."

“Do you want to stop now?"

“One more moment, I think I…" The younger male closed his eyes, slowly, softly, the better to hear his spirit and the one trying to reach out to him. “This one had connections to beauty of many kinds, visual, aural, tactile. I sense his mind, his knowledge, his appreciation of so much. So much of the underlying emotion, beneath all the pain and loss… it's about that beauty, about all that these beings had to lose, and how they… how they could release pain through creation of beauty if only they…"

More tears went in search of the one who had left, and Reggie felt himself breathing in deeply, letting his maw open slowly, making a relaxed sound, Aah… held on a clear musical note that reverberated warmly in the space around them. He let the note change, holding the same open-mawed sound, wandering slowly around various notes, until his breath ran softly out.

A strong inhalation, then Laay… came the next sound, again changing pitches, more daringly, as if searching, beseeching, up and down the range of his voice. After a time, after another breath, Loo… sought the open, carefully howling sound, the elongated throat casting stronger urging, up into the high places of this place of worship, raising the voice and the spirit. Finally, one more huge breath formed Yaah… to come back to the open-throated, open-mawed sound that could be a sigh, an invocation, an acknowledgement, inviting All That Is into the self so that the self could join and give back through the power of a sustained note. It hung in the air of this place even after the numbat had closed his maw and looked back into the eyes of his awestruck mentor.

Reggie carefully released his forepaws from Jamar's, placing them instead upon the mountain lion's knees, to maintain the grounding. He regarded his friend with tender affection, smiling gently at him. “I don't know if those are words; maybe it's just sounds. It came through to me with… I don't know what to call it, a sense of music, as if the sounds themselves were more about the music than any words they might represent. I don't know if I sang anything that was actually music from these beings; it was about the feeling that I was getting from the, what did you call it, karmannyye chasy…?"

“Yes," the feline managed through his own open maw, still apparently astounded by what he had witnessed. “It is a type of chronometer used by…" He stopped himself, chuckling softly. “I am too much the teacher. Give me a moment, Reggie. Or perhaps forgive me if I want to call you 'Reginald,' not to distance you but to give you a more formal respect for your performance. You have not heard any music from this world, correct?"

“No. Did I sing something from…?"

“You sang from your heart, and perhaps his." Jamar drew a breath as if he had just remembered that breathing is important. “I have heard something like what you have sung here, something that appears from the records to be very old. The sound of ah-lay-loo-ya appears to mean praise or celebration, perhaps to a deity. It would befit a place of worship. The notes that you chose may not match something recorded in this world, but they were beautiful, and I think that is more to the point." He paused, glancing first to the remains and then back to his companion. “I think that you have given him his voice here. Perhaps you have given him peace."

The two explorers leaned into each other's embrace, weeping, sighing, holding, grounding, celebrating. Reggie let himself stay open, felt the feline's heart, and knew he was safe. This, too, was a new world to explore.