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Hemiola knew that the Harmony could communicate with other moths in ways it could only imagine. Sometimes, it detected Harmony's mothvoice as a reverberation, its serpentine body vibrating as if it had suddenly been plucked like a harp string. Sometimes, fainter signals passed. Moths manipulated gravity, so Hemiola theorized that was the medium in which they spoke also.
It set about programming the fabricator. The first attempt was crude, little more than a pair of infrared lasers set up to run down the longest contiguous hallway that variable layout could provide, a sensor apiece, and a precise clock. That proved frustratingly inefficient, and drew the attention of the moth.
"What are you doing?" Harmony blinked, using a nearby light. Its harness had been programmed in machine universal, and the awakened moth possessed as much fluency as it did in the High Language.
"I was trying to build a receiver," Hemiola explained. "For moth voices."
There was the slightest of pauses in Harmony's reply. "Does it not please you to communicate in Machine Universal? Should we use my grid instead?" It ended the query with a worried flicker.
"It pleases me," Hemiola hurried to assure Harmony. "But there are times I sense vibration." Its lights shifted to apologetic peach. "I would like to detect it more clearly. It is like there is a choir, but the singers are so far away that I cannot hear more than a note at a time, and only when they are sung very loudly."
Harmony was silent for a time. If the moth were human, Hemiola would think it had caused offense.
When Harmony's light flashed again, it was in jubilant lavender. "Give this design to the fabricator." It read out a pattern so extensive that Hemiola rapidly lost track of the purpose of the item.
None the less, it set the pattern up to be created. It had to work its way through a series of overrides - the item was promptly flagged as "Calendrically Sensitive," and Hemiola had to provide authorization. This it did, using the seal of the Nirai Hexarch with abandon. The fabricator, unaware of current events, accepted the authorization. Soon, an item resembling a headset was readied.
"It has an exotic antenna," Harmony explained. "It will allow you to detect more than you do now."
Hemiola bowed, flashing its thanks in a multitude of colors. It floated up to attach the headset, sized for its own primary sensory module. "I'm ready," it flashed.
It felt the thrum as Harmony struck a high note. The headset activated, and Hemiola heard them at last, gravitational voices translated into vibrations many orders of magnitude shorter and played by the motions of air. A ghostly symphony of moth voices, a song strung between the stars! The voices could have been sounded aeons ago, and only now arrived. Yet somehow, the moths sang in a pleasing harmony.
It was nothing like the music of the Hexarchate. There was no measurable time signature, no bright trumpet to announce the presence of the Kel. The moths sang out of synchronicity and across vast distances. After a time, the waves passed entirely, and the void fell silent.
"It's beautiful," Hemiola blinked out, its lights dim with the intensity of its emotion.
Harmony blinked an immodest "I know," and hummed a happy phrase in its own speech. When it began to accelerate, Hemiola heard that also, the mothdrive a confident bass rumble against the rising cascade of tones as Harmony wove gravity into song.
Hemiola sang too, a veil of lights blurring into a counterpoint as they raced on their way.