Dream d1338-s: Running Before We Arrived

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where the signal divided us before we understood we were dividing.

The east frequency had a pull to it - the Listener described it as "mid-range but ancient, like a carrier wave laid down before carrier waves had a name." She was already adjusting her instruments before we'd crested the second hill. I ended up walking east with her and the Wireman and the Dreamer, the other groups drifting northeast and southeast into their own frequencies, and somewhere behind us the landscape closed like a door.

The stone circles came into view gradually, which seemed wrong. Architecture like that should announce itself. Instead they emerged as if they'd always been at the edge of vision and we'd simply failed to notice.

"Seven rings," the Builder's voice crackled through the radio. She was in the valley, kilometers northeast. The Beacon Network Specialist had the relay running clean. "Did I hear seven?"

"Eleven," the Dreamer said, already with her lens raised. "Eleven rings, different ages. The stone-setting technique changes between the outer rings and the inner ones. Someone else finished this."

The Wireman was already inside the outermost circle. He moved between the standing stones with the same attention he gave to relay hardware back at the settlement - pressing his palm flat against each one, tilting his head slightly, listening with his hands.

Lano trotted ahead on the worn path between the stones, ears up, nose working at something in the air.

"There's current running through the ground," the Listener said, crouching with her sensor array pressed to the earth. "Residual but consistent. These aren't decorative. They're load-bearing in some kind of circuit I can't fully characterize yet."

"Can you partially characterize it?"

"I can characterize roughly forty percent of it and I'm being generous."

The Wireman had reached the center stone - a single upright slab, taller than the others, carved with patterns I recognized. Not from any record. From the conduit housings at the settlement. The same rhythm, the same interval between marks.

Lano sat at the edge of the inner ring and watched him work. One ear forward, one back. Then, quietly: "Bueno."

The Wireman placed both hands on the center stone and the hum we'd carried for three days shifted. Not louder. More present, as if it had been waiting for exactly this contact.

"Ceremony node," the Listener said carefully, watching her instruments. "It just - acknowledged us."

The Wireman turned. He smiled, which was rare. He said nothing. The stone under his hands was still warm.