🏗️ Chapter 2: The Builders Within
🌍 April 6th, 89 BCE — Early Spring 🌱
📜 Book Advisory — Issued by the Ministry of Enlightened Affairs
This volume contains prolonged instances of strategic forethought, excessive collaboration among sentient species, unauthorized applications of ancient technology, and persistent optimism regarding civilization's survival. Readers unaccustomed to competence, compassion, or large-scale infrastructure may experience mild disorientation. Viewer discretion is advised: certain readers may find depictions of functioning government and moral clarity unsettling.
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The rains were tapering off, leaving the soil damp and the air heavy with the smell of earth. Low clouds hung stubbornly over the hills, the last sighs of winter. The site chosen for the new city lay between two great waters, Pujetara Sinus (Puget Sound) to the west and Vashona Lacus (Lake Washington) to the east, linked by the slow, deep ribbon of the Dohuanis Flumen (Duwamish River). A scattering of low hills rose around the river's curve, their flanks matted with spring grass and brush, while alder and cedar clustered thick near the banks. To the west, the ridgeline of the Olmara Montes (Olympic Mountains) caught the last tatters of cloud, still shedding light rain into the lowlands.
For now, the ground here was uneven, a patchwork of slopes and hollows, but all that would change. The mining crew had come early, just late enough in the wet season to work in damp soil but early enough to catch the full stretch of dry summer days ahead. Their orders were clear: flatten the hilltops into a level plateau, rough in the city wall, pile up ore and stone, and have the site ready so the incoming human labor could spend every precious day of fair weather on the finer builds.
🌳 Clearing the Land – Oops
The Ore Monster surged up out of Pujetara Sinus off the Sietara Civitas (Seattle) shore, water sheeting from its hull in a rolling curtain. Its hull was painted white, a clean, spectral sheen that made the spray look like steam. Spray hammered the tide flats and sent the shoreline camps scrambling. Ryker had timed the surfacing for effect; it kept curious eyes well back from the work zone. From above, the land was a patchwork of wooded knolls, mossy slopes, and the silver ribbon of the Dohuanis Flumen winding between Pujetara Sinus on the west and Unara Lacus (Lake Union) on the east.
Ryker squinted at the terrain feed. "Ah, hell."
Jonas looked up from his console. "What now?"
"Forgot to clear the surface before we started cutting. Roots and trees'll jam the crushers."
A groan came from Navarre at the rear station. "So we're arborists now?"
"Just tidy enough for the drills," Ryker said. "Push all the green into two heaps outside the perimeter. North and southeast. Keep the soil clean."
The Ore Monster dipped into a slow circuit, rakes and blades sliding out from its hull. The ship moved like a pale tide over the ground, peeling away grass, brush, and roots in wide, rolling mats. Whole trees tipped and slid aside, gathered into rough piles that smoked where the blades scorched them. When the field lay bare, the ship hovered motionless, its circular hull gleaming with condensation and mud.
Ryker tapped her map. "Plan says we fill Viridara Lacus (Green Lake) to the north, trim the south bulge in the Dohuanis Flumen, and close Smith Cove on the west edge. All of it gets block fill, compression, and leveling passes. By nightfall, this will be one solid plateau."
Jonas gave a low whistle. "All that in one shift?"
"Unless you want to sleep here next week," Ryker said. "Fire the plates. Let's make some land."
The hull's outer shell began to glow as the grav plates came online, a faint silver shimmer spreading across its curved surface. The vibration deepened through the deck, steady and powerful, like the growl of a buried beast beneath their feet. Outside, the air thickened as the Ore Monster's lower plates locked to the crust while the upper ring reversed polarity, curving their fields to wrap around the ship in a luminous dome. Inside, the crew's own gravity stayed gentle and constant, with Nano's stabilizers isolating them from the storm forming inches beyond the hull.
"Compression field synced," Navarre called. "All chambers sealed."
"Do it," Ryker said.
The hum became a roar, and the ground below shuddered as invisible weight crashed downward. Rock groaned and split; the lake beds boiled as steam burst through cracks all around the ship, venting in white columns that climbed higher than the trees. Jonas steadied himself against the console. "Feels like we're standing on the sun."
"Means it's working," Ryker answered. "Keep it even, do not melt the deck."
The hull glowed faint red along its rim while mud, stone, and buried water vaporized under the pressure. The surrounding air churned into a ring of fog so dense the horizon vanished.
"Surface lift minimal," Navarre said, watching the stabilizer readouts. "She's holding steady."
"Good. Keep it that way," Ryker said. "I do not want to explain to the command why we ended up flung halfway to the clouds."
Laughter rippled through the cabin, thin and nervous, the kind that hides tension. As the pressure cycle reached its peak, the hum deepened, then faded, and the ship's lights returned to normal. Outside, the steam began to thin. What had been lake bed and soft bank was now a flat expanse of pale, cooling stone, still streaked with drifting vapor. Jonas leaned toward the window. "Well, there's your plateau. Nice and crispy."
Ryker smiled faintly. "Nobody will ever know what was under there."
The Ore Monster turned toward the next marker, its hull trailing streamers of mist like smoke from a forge. The ground it left behind was smooth, hard, and still, pressed into permanence by gravity itself.
🔧 Construction of the City Wall – Day One
The drills extended, biting into the higher ground and feeding the clean stone into the processing bays, where it was compressed into massive, interlocking blocks for the first courses of the city wall. The mining ship hovered just above the plateau, its massive drilling arms extending like iron claws, tearing into the earth with relentless precision. Hilltops vanished under the Ore Monster's bite, stone and soil feeding straight into the processing bays where it was compressed into massive, interlocking blocks.
"Briggs, keep that feed even," Captain Ryker ordered from the forward seat, eyes locked on the terrain scanner. "I don't want to spend half the day correcting lopsided rows."
Briggs, hunched over the excavation controls, grinned. "Hey, I'm carving these hilltops like a sculptor. You want symmetrical, you get symmetrical."
"Just make sure it's level," Lieutenant Jonas said without looking up from his display. "We've got two rows to lay before sundown. That's not a suggestion."
At the rear station, Hale monitored the processing bay's temperature readouts. "Compression's holding steady. If nothing jams, those blocks will lock tighter than a miser's coin purse."
Sweat ran down the side of Ryker's face despite the cabin's chill. The first row of stone slid into place with a satisfying, seismic thud, then the second followed, each block settling against its neighbor with precision. The foundation of the defensive ring was set, solid and unmoving, the start of a wall that would one day tower above the plateau.
"Two rows down," Ryker said, scanning the horizon. "Now we see how much more the plateau's got to give before we head back to Pujetara Sinus."
"Doesn't matter, we'll be making water runs all week anyway," Hale muttered.
Briggs snorted. "Aw, come on. You just don't want to see me line up this beast in a tidal current again."
👀 Encounter 1 – First Sight of the Locals
The Ore Monster surged out of the strait in a roar of engines and a curtain of spray, water sheeting off its hull as it climbed toward the plateau. The drills were already spinning up, steel teeth churning in anticipation. Ryker's peripheral screens flickered with heat signatures and movement along the shoreline.
"We've got company," Jonas said, leaning forward at his station. A cluster of tents, smoking firepits, and figures broke apart in sudden, frantic motion. Whole families were grabbing what they could and scattering inland.
"Well, we've made an impression," Ryker said dryly.
Tallis gave a short laugh from the rear console. "Guess the neighbors aren't rolling out the welcome mat."
"Not funny," McCrae said, frowning at his monitor. "That's their homes they're abandoning. You think they're coming back to those?"
"Maybe once they realize we're not after them," Tallis replied, leaning back in his seat. "Right now, we're just the biggest, loudest thing they've ever seen."
Jonas zoomed in on one feed. "Hold up, got one that's not running." A lanky youth stood apart on a knoll, arms loose at his sides, watching as the Ore Monster's drills bit into the hillside. Dust plumed around the machine's feet, the noise a constant growl.
"Brave kid," McCrae said.
"Or curious," Jonas replied. "I bet he's the first one we'll be able to talk to."
Ryker's eyes stayed on the feed a moment longer. "Maybe. But today's for building, not diplomacy."
The boy lingered until the rest of his people were nearly out of sight. Then, with a last glance at the towering machine, he turned and trotted after them. Ryker exhaled slowly, a flicker of unease crossing her mind before she buried it under routine.
💧 Returning to the Water for Materials
With the plateau flattened and the first wall courses locked in place, Ryker leaned back in her seat and flicked the comm to all stations. "Phase one complete. On to phase two, load up on stone while the weather's still on our side."
Jonas grinned without looking up from his readings. "And here I thought you were going to make us finish the whole wall before we touched the water again."
"That's tomorrow's headache," Ryker replied. "Today we stick to the schedule, more stone in the holds before nightfall."
McCrae glanced over from his console. "If we time it right, we can have those extra rows set before the supply ship arrives. Beats scrambling in the dark."
"Yeah, because you just love loading blocks in the dark," Tallis teased.
"Better than missing a deadline," McCrae shot back.
The Ore Monster skimmed back toward Fretum Iuanis Fucae, its belly low to the waves. Spray pattered against the hull like rain on a roof. Once over the channel site, the drills dropped and bored into the seabed, churning silt and rock in a steady grind. The extracted stone fed into the massive internal bays, stacking neatly for later compression into interlocking blocks.
By dusk, the low hum of engines carried across the plateau from the west. The Gull of the Mountain skimmed in over the darkening waters of Pujetara Sinus, running straight and true toward the unfinished city. Its hull glinted in the fading light before it slipped in over the wall gap, kicking up a swirl of dust as it settled.
"Right on time," Jonas said, stepping out from the shadow of the wall to guide it in.
The pilot's voice crackled over comms. "Captain Vale, delivery as promised. Where do you want your box, Ryker?"
"Pad's leveled just inside the north gap," Ryker replied. "Drop her there, Vale, and we'll get the walls up before dark."
The cargo clamps released with a deep metallic thunk, and the rectangular prefab shelter touched down on the pad. Vale's crew moved in immediately, slotting floor panels together and bracing the walls. The work lights cast long, flickering shadows, the air sharp with the smell of resin and fresh-cut lumber.
"Let's get the frame locked before the sun disappears," Ryker called.
Vale's voice came again, wry. "Clock's ticking, Captain. You want the roof in place before your crew's eating in the rain?"
Within minutes, the small craft was hovering again, lowering the roof panel into place with practiced precision. Inside, bunks were bolted in, two tiers along each wall, enough for everyone. Jonas ran a hand along one of the frames. "Better than the ore hold," he said, and a few tired chuckles answered back.
By the time the roof was sealed and the last bolts tightened, the light was nearly gone. Vale's crew stowed their gear in the far corner of the new shelter and claimed a set of bunks for the night. The smell of stew filled the air as both crews shared a late meal, voices low and tired after the long day.
The shelters were placed near the northern end of the plateau, close to the rising industrial quarter where the Ore Monster had piled its stone and metal. It was the heart of all activity, safe, solid ground from which the builders could oversee the city's birth. Every evening, the Gull returned across the western water, its hull a faint silhouette against the dusk, bringing another prefabricated shelter, more supplies, and fresh workers to the rising site, slowly, methodically building the workforce that would give the new city its first heartbeat. It departed again each morning, slipping away while mist still clung to the hills, thus avoiding watchful eyes; to those observing from afar, no vessel ever came or went, and only the stone-skinned beast remained, the nest it tended seeming to grow by its own mysterious will. From a distance, its pale hull looked like moonlight on water, but up close it was all noise, heat, and work.
⛏️ Wall Completion and Resource Piling
By midweek, the wall's outline was nearly closed. The Ore Monster churned channel stone into massive interlocking blocks, and the crew swung them into place with methodical precision. The four gate openings still gaped wide, unfinished, their edges raw, but they'd do for now.
"Looks like a fortress already," Quinn said from the aft crane controls, easing another block into place.
"Fortress with a few missing teeth," Jonas replied, stepping back to eyeball the line of the wall. "We'll worry about polishing later. For now, it stands."
"Good enough to keep curious eyes out," Ryker added, flicking a glance toward the treeline where the boy had been days before. It was empty now, just swaying green.
With the perimeter holding, the focus shifted inward. Ore came in first, hauled from the seabed and sorted into neat piles, iron-rich rock in one section, copper in another. Coal and limestone followed, dumped in the open where rain wouldn't hurt them.
"Stack it high," Vale called from the loader's seat, his supply crew lending muscle before their morning departure. "You're going to want a mountain of the stuff when the smelter starts drinking it."
"Speaking of which," Quinn said, setting down his load with a thump, "anyone else picturing the look on the locals' faces when we light that chimney?"
"Let's finish the mountain first," Ryker said. "Then we'll give them something to talk about."
The plateau rang with the sound of stone and metal, the open air filling with the scent of fresh-cut rock and coal dust. The wall was up, the stores were building, and the city was starting to feel real.
🏃 Encounter 2 – The Runner at the Gate
Late in the afternoon, after a long dive for stone, the Ore Monster surfaced, hull streaming with seawater, and skimmed low over the waves toward the plateau. The southeast gate gap came into view just as the ship began to climb.
"Movement at the southeast gate," Jonas reported, leaning toward his console. The feed zoomed and steadied. There, a lean figure jolted upright, eyes wide, before bolting into the scrub with a sprinter's stride.
Vale squinted at the image. "Same kid, right? The one from the knoll?"
"Same build, same run," Jonas confirmed.
Quinn chuckled from the crane station. "He's got a good turn of speed for someone who spends all day spying on us."
Ryker only shrugged, eyes on her controls. "If he's that curious, he'll be back. Just make sure he stays outside the walls."
"Think he's telling the others about us?" Vale asked.
"Oh, he's telling someone," Jonas said with a half-smile. "Question is, what story is he telling?"
The Ore Monster soared over the unfinished wall, engines kicking up a swirl of dust and grit as it settled inside the plateau. The ore piles sat exactly where they'd been left, untouched and orderly. The crew moved on to unloading, their talk drifting back to block placement and fuel loads, but the thought of the boy lingered, out there somewhere, still watching.
🚚 Ash Run and Final Preps
The morning the main work crews arrived, the plateau was already humming with quiet anticipation. A low shadow swept over the wall gaps, the Sky Leviathan dropping in slow and steady, its bays packed with fresh hands and tools. As the supply craft settled, Ryker keyed the intercom.
"All right, everyone, you know the drill. Crews get settled, then we head for the ash."
Vale arched an eyebrow from his station. "Cutting it close, aren't we?"
"Exactly the point," Ryker said. "Less time sitting here means less chance of it soaking up a rainstorm."
Quinn grinned. "And with this beast? Kascara Montes (Cascade Mountains) is what, an hour there and back if we don't dawdle?"
"Less if I skip the scenic route," Ryker replied.
The Ore Monster lifted again, engines flaring, and shot eastward toward the distant ridgelines. Minutes later, its drills were chewing into pale volcanic deposits, the air thick with a fine gray haze. Within the hour, the holds were brimming with dry, powdery ash. Back at the city site, the load went straight into freshly built silos, sealed against the weather. With limestone, coal, and ore already in neat rows, and the ash secured, the plateau stood ready for the heavy industrial startup.
🔥 Beginning the Heavy Industrial Zone
The first structures were all about necessity: the blast furnace, the lime kilns, and a slender but towering smokestack to pull every wisp of smoke skyward. The rest, glassworks, pottery kilns, and a charcoal kiln for special projects, would come later once the bigger work crews filled out the zone.
Behind the worksite, the Ore Monster rumbled, its conveyor lines humming. Instead of the massive wall stones, the machine now spat smaller, neatly cut construction blocks in a steady rhythm. Each one