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A Message for the CloudsBLANCHE WAS STANDING TWO PACES AWAY from the stairs, facing a room unlike any she had seen before, all in soft angles and curves. An old paper smell reached her nostrils, an odor of a confined environment. However, there must have been enough oxygen, because her puffer hadn’t clicked on yet.
The light had taken a golden glow, coming from irregular arabesques on the walls, an alien language of curves and signs dancing on the surface.
She advanced to touch the nearest wall, near the entrance she just came from. They had been carved with tools so advanced that no asperity, no groove was visible.
Then, she looked down on the floor and gasped. The floor was a mosaic of every mineral that could be found on Phœnix. The whole evoked a great
