The Atrium of Breath had nearly been accomplished. This vertical city inside a god's throat was a feverish mix of both wonderful and scary: luminescent mushrooms growing on old taste buds, all connected together with bridges made of intertwined fibers and living vines. There were hanging gardens with mossy waterfalls flowing down. The air, which was previously polluted by the Last Breath, was now pure and humid, with soft sounds that facilitated growth.
The first step was going to be very straightforward: just light up the main light-shroom, which would be like the town's sun. However, they ran into a problem as the day of the event was getting closer. When the light-shroom was tested, it caused the Maw's hard palate to vibrate at an extremely uncomfortable high frequency. It wasn't a sound, but rather a sensation that caused headaches and nausea to those in close proximity.
The main builder, formerly a Carver, was on the verge of a meltdown. "We used the jawbone's sound as the reference! It must be okay!"
Maxine received the message. Upon examination of the light-shroom and the palate with her tech, she said, "The bone and the palate store their memories differently. The jaw is associated with the act of chewing. The palate is related to tasting—which is a more complicated process, and somewhat unfortunate considering the events. The light-shroom is operating at a frequency that is too high. What it does is it forces the palate to relive the experience of the whole world being eaten."
The decision was definitely not to alter the light-shroom. What they needed was something to cool the situation down. Using a deadening agent would only kill the vibe. They needed an intermediary, like Benny and Elara, but for communication between rocks and light.
Elara had an idea. "The network has both as its sources. It is on the stones and stretches to the light. So why not ask it for help?"
They attached the delicate thread of a very talkative mushroom that was part of the palate and closest to the light-shroom. This mushroom, called Whisper-moss, was able to receive sounds and also could very gently send out sounds in a softer way.
After that, the serious part was coming. They wanted the Whisper-moss to do something very special: accept the harsh sound of the light-shroom and convert it into something the palate would understand. It was not just a general invitation, but it had to be a specific instruction.
Being most tightly bound to the network, Benny and Elara were chosen for the task. They were together, with their hands on the cold, living moss and their minds connected.
What they did was not forcing. They created a model. They visualized the light coming from the light-shroom. They sensed the noise coming from it, which was strong, pure, and unpleasant. Then, they pictured that noise going into the moss. They demonstrated to the moss how to break that sound down into softer components—just like when sunlight is converted into a spectrum of colors.
It was a very cool combination of teamwork and the power of the imagination. The network, using the moss as a medium, saw their model. It understood the objective: not to master, but to interpret. To reconcile new light with an old, hurt place.
Nothing was changed for a moment. After that, the Whisper-moss started to shine with a soft light. Its webby shape altered slightly, with glowing spots appearing. It was adapting to it.
They turned on the light-shroom.
A strong beam of light came from the spire. It hit the Whisper-moss. instead of a bad vibration, the light that fell on the new city was soft, and it had a gentle hum, like leaves rustling. The sound that caused the headache was no more. The palate felt comfortable, even warm.
The new Atrium crowd who had come to the lighting event, let out a breath of relief and then murmured in amazement. The light was spectacular. It was vibrant. And it was good.
Benny and Elara, worn out but content, glanced at their work. They didn't employ any instruments or sing a tune. They had instructed something. And the world had accepted.
The concept of tomorrow was becoming more and more obvious: they were not merely builders imposing a design. They were conversing with one another. And their greatest skill was their capacity to listen, invent, and clarify.