Spire seemed to be swaying!
Well, they would have to engineer flexibility into the things. Turbulent winds were common here, after all.
Still, the sight certainly got your attention.
He finally reached the bazaar that surrounded the great shaft. There were few sentients about today, nothing like the usual crowds. He hurried across the plaza, glad the way was clear for once.
Paved with ancient stones, peopled with beings from a thousand worlds, it always seemed like a vast, colorful zoo. A constant roar usually filled the air, vocalizations and squeals and hisses from the breaths of ten thousand beings. A rich, tangy smell rode the tide of those breaths, pheromones and machine oils and cooking odors and God only knew what else.
Today it wasn't such an assault on the senses. He strode for a mile past stalls and exhibits of all shapes and sizes, all sorts of materials: cloth and plastic, lumber and sheet-metal, mounds of dried mud. The merchants were free-lance traders like him, their ships moored at the orbital docks as his was. The Reeshi Moon was a major starport for this sector, drawing ships and sentients from all over.
He had sold his own cargo on arrival, to an established local vendor. Yet he thought it might have been fun to participate in this cosmic flea market. If he ever passed this way again, he would give it a try.
There were similar markets at the bases of the other Spires. He had spent some fascinated hours exploring this one when he had first arrived here.
Many of the booths were closed due to the weather; others were in the process of shutting down. Presently fat yellow globules of rain began to fall, splattering noisily on the pavement. His eyes began to sting. This world's water was acidic, and the air was suddenly drenched with it. Its sharp odor stung his nostrils.
He started to run, keeping his head down. His skin began to burn.
He finally reached the structure below the Spire, gasping for breath as he entered the archway. The rain began to pour down in torrents.
He staggered to a halt. A Reeshi attendant trotted up to him. "Did the weather cause you discomfort, good sir?"
"It damn sure did!"
The Reeshi blew him dry with a portable air sprayer, and then doused him with an aerosol mist. The stinging and burning subsided. The creature scampered off, not waiting for thanks.
The interior was a vast lobby, poorly lit by human standards. Walkways and platforms loomed high in the gloom, myriad levels suspended from intricate lattices. Conveyor belts and other machines rumbled and throbbed in a ceaseless din.
Here, at last, there were crowds; he shouldered through them (human shoulders, he reflected, could be handy things), finally reached his ramp, and was forced to wait in line.
Behind him came a clattering rush of footsteps. He whirled apprehensively.
A Reeshi stopped to catch its breath. "Pardon, good sir! There appears to have been some misunderstanding between us."
"You served me at The Watering Hole?"
"I performed that role."
"Is there a problem?"
"You overpaid your bill. This fee labeled 'gratuity' was neither requested nor expected. In fact it came as a distinct shock! I pray it wasn't some subtle form of insult."
"No! It was an expression of gratitude, a gift."
"Oh, you're most generous, good sir! It was a spontaneous gesture?"
"Not entirely. It's a customary thing on my world."
"I'm confused. You would have paid this fee even if my service had been less satisfactory?"
George chuckled. "Then I would have given you a small tip. But it's not obligatory."
"Some of your people don't, uh, tip?"
"That's correct. Yet it's considered bad form not to."
The alien blinked. "Ah, the endless cultural complexities. This is why I love my job so much. Very well, good sir. I accept it in the spirit with which it was given."
"You deserve it." George managed to keep from patting the Reeshi's head. "After all, you probably don't earn as much as you should, working in the hospitality industry."
The Reeshi was still for a moment. "But sir, on my world waiting tables is the most lucrative of professions, requiring years of study. Many who aspire to be waiters never make it."
It was George's turn to blink. "Wow. There's a cultural complexity for you."
"We must be prepared to deal with many types of beings."
"I see. Well, as far as the tip is concerned, you're welcome to it."
"I'm gratified." The Reeshi tilted his head. "Still, I can't help but feel I owe you further service. If I may escort you to your ship?"
"It's not necessary. I can find my way."
"I insist."
The line had been moving up a smooth black incline as they talked. They had reached a landing where a Reeshi attendant sat behind a desk. The line snaked around to mount another ramp.
George's escort leaned over the desk and trilled at the attendant, a string of unintelligible sounds. The other Reeshi trilled back what sounded like an assent.
George's companion led him behind the desk to a low railing. A knee-high gate snicked open at the Reeshi's stare, and they exited onto a narrow catwalk.
Growls, hisses, and other sounds of resentment rose from behind them. George felt faintly embarrassed; it seemed line jumpers weren't any more popular here than on Earth.
They reached a spiral stair and climbed several levels to the embarking platform for space-bound elevators. An attendant touched George's databand with a wand, spoke briefly with George's Reeshi, and then gestured them onward. A metal door dissolved open as they approached.
They found an empty compartment in a newly arrived module. George lowered himself onto something resembling a seat, and the Reeshi sprawled on the soft, pliant floor. The little cabin was dimly lit by tubes of reddish gas.
A blubbery, tentacled being with long sharp tusks entered behind them and draped itself over a rack. It did not seem aware of them. George decided against trying to engage it in conversation. Something about it troubled him vaguely.
Moments later the module surged skyward.
Viewed from outside, the surface of the Spire was a reflective silver. From inside it was transparent, and George was near a viewport. At first he saw nothing but dark heaving clouds.
Then the elevator shot above them, breaking into the purple sky. He caught his breath in wonder, transfixed by the glorious sight. He could hear the faint howling of a distant angry wind.
He turned to his companion, intending to share his delight, and was surprised to find the little being curled into a fetal ball.
Well, one often saw Reeshi doing that. It was called going frolf, and it seemed to be an involuntary reflex. The polite response was to ignore it and not mention it when they came out of it. Perhaps this one had no stomach for heights.
The firmament slowly darkened. Soon, far above, he could see the docks, sprawling across the sky in a complex network, an intricate maze of beams, tubes, and globes..
From thousands of miles out they looked like a halo of nebulous silver around the planet. From the ground, at night, they appeared as a misty band of light.
Seen from this perspective, they utterly dominated the heavens.
The module began to decelerate. Now he could discern individual ships nestled in docking bays, vessels from all over this part of space. His own ship was some distance away, not visible.
The elevator coasted to a stop. George's weight, which had lessened as the car slowed, returned abruptly—he was now within the gravity grid of the docks.
The creature that had shared their compartment leapt toward the hatch—George would not have believed a being so massive could move so fast if he hadn't witnessed it—and swung around to face them, blocking the opening. It reached toward him with a tentacle.
He moved hastily back out of range.
It made a slithering sound. A translation crawled through George's brain. "You! I identify you as human."
George's heart hammered anxiously. He
queried the local web for information about the thing.
"I'm human, yes." His databand informed him there were no records available concerning such a creature.
"I require you to attend me."
He stared incredulously. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you. And I don't recall having any business to conduct with you."
"I have business to conduct with you."
Fear pounded through him. He took a deep breath. "Is that so? What is it?"
"My masters have questions to ask of you. Come with me."
"Your masters? Who might they be?"
It quivered impatiently. "You are to answer questions, not ask them."
A spark of resentment flared within George. "I'm sorry, but I must refuse. Will you please move out of my way?"
It gave a violent shudder. "You do not have the option of refusal! You will come with me."
"What happens after I've spoken with these masters of yours?"
"That is for them to decide."
"You're joking! Please stand aside." With a mental effort, George used his databand to trigger the alarm that would alert the Spire Authority.
A strident siren began to blare. The lighting flashed in bright, rapid pulses.
He heard Reeshi voices chattering in agitation.
The alien moved out into the passageway.
The alarm abruptly ceased. A Reeshi peered into the compartment; another was just behind him. "You signaled for assistance, good sir?"
"I did. This creature was trying to abduct me—"
The Reeshi cop cringed as if it had been slapped. "No! I fear you misunderstand, good sir. This is a Tyreel. A servant of the Zhianese."
"Whoever they are—"
"Ignorant human!" said the Tyreel scornfully.
"The Zhianese are hydrogen breathers,"