The Renegades of Pern (dragon riders of pern)

by Anne McCaffrey

  When she insisted that he eat, Piemur discovered that he was hungrier than he had realized, and they both ate a hearty breakfast. Then Jancis cleared their dishes, and only after that, with an air of triumph, did she carefully unroll a transparent sheet of the ancients’ peculiar material. She held the corners down with spoons and forks and waited while he examined it.

  “Ad…min an…nex,” he read slowly, enunciating each syllable of the caption. “For aivas. Aivas?” He looked inquiringly up at Jancis.

  “I don’t know what an aivas is either, but it must be important. See? They went to a lot of trouble to reinforce it. ‘Cer…a…mic tiles’—well, we know ‘tiles.’ Heat resistant, that’s obvious, too. I don’t understand what the figures mean, but ‘tolerance’ would indicate they were determined to protect this aivas thing.” Jancis was excited.

  “Admin annex? We haven’t excavated that one yet, have we? It’s up near the edge of the lava flow. And what’re so…lar pan…els?” he asked, tapping the long strips that were apparently attached to the roof of the aivas annex.

  “Solar’s an old word for sun. Panels, we know.”

  “Sun panels? What would they do?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d like to find out.” Jancis’s eyes sparkled vivaciously.

  “You were very brave yesterday, fighting right alongside us,” he said irrelevantly because she looked so pretty just then. Her flush deepened. “And if you hadn’t released the canines so that Thella didn’t get her hands on Ara and the children at the start…”

  “Well, she didn’t, and that was yesterday. This is today, and I think we’ve got the clue to something very important. No other building on this plateau was especially reinforced against lava. What they couldn’t move, they left to slag.”

  “We’ll have to wait until Master Robinton’s awake. After yesterday, I doubt I can coax V’line to convey us anywhere without the Harper’s authority.”

  “And just why is that needed?” the Harper asked, yawning as he entered the kitchen.

  When applied to later that morning by Master Robinton himself, T’gellan dispatched one of the green weyrlings, who had strict orders, respectfully begging the Master Harper’s pardon, to go only to the Plateau and return immediately to the Eastern Weyr.

  “Lessa wasted little time distancing Weyrs from our problems,” the Harper said, more amused than offended. “However, you two go on. Not only is a green beneath my consequence, but I must construct a report on this matter for Sebell. Yesterday may have broken one thorn in the sides of the Lord Holders but—” He sighed deeply. “—only one, and it behooves me to sweeten the inevitable furor. I am thankful that Jayge is confirmed as a holder. I doubt Larad, or even Asgenar, will feel that the lad exceeded his authority, but he’s new to his honors. Some may feel he ought not to have killed Thella. The Telgar Bloodline is an ancient, and generally an honorable one.”

  Piemur and Jancis were relieved to be allowed to go, Piemur now infected by Jancis’s curiosity. They had assembled their tools by the mound when Piemur saw the white dragon arrive. So much had happened that he had forgotten his offer to Jaxom until that very moment. He waved vigorously to attract the Ruathan lord’s attention, sending Farli to reinforce his message by way of Ruth. Jaxom and Ruth landed in the aisle in front of the annex, which put Jaxom on a level with the two on the mound top.

  “What happened to you?” Jaxom asked with some concern, noting Piemur’s bruised face. “Fall down one of those caves?”

  “Something like that,” Piemur said diffidently. “Lord Jaxom of Ruatha, this is Smith Journeywoman Jancis, Master Fandarel’s granddaughter.”

  “Don’t I remember you from Telgar Smithcrafthall?” Jaxom smiled winningly as Jancis regarded him frankly.

  “Yes,” she replied mischievously. “I used to serve you bread and klah when you came to the Smithcrafthall for lessons with Wansor.”

  “You’re not that old,” Piemur protested, and Jancis cocked her head at him.

  “What are you doing on this building?” Jaxom asked. “I was looking forward to a prowl through endless caverns and fascinating treasures.”

  “We may be onto something a lot more exciting, Jaxom,” Piemur said, placing the rod at the edge of the long narrow band nearest him and tapping the point gently. “We’re following Jancis’s hunch.”

  “I’ve had one or two of those myself,” Jaxom said with a rueful grin. “About this building?”

  “I—we—” Jancis stammered, breaking off uncertainly and turning helplessly to Piemur.

  “Jancis found an old drawing,” the harper said, smoothly taking up the tale and rescuing her from a possible indiscretion. Jaxom would learn about Thella’s raid soon enough. “Gave us a hint that this might be an important site. So we thought we’d take a closer look. It’s her hunch. According to the master map the Harper and I found, that”—he pointed to the mound perpendicular to them—“is marked as ‘ADMIN.’ This section we’re standing on is marked ‘AIVAS.’ The ancients went to considerable trouble to protect this aivas thing from the lava flow with heat-tolerant shielding, so we’re investigating.”

  “That’s enough to make me curious, too,” Jaxom said, suddenly stepping from the white dragon’s back to the top of the mound. “I’ll help.”

  “Great!” Piemur tapped his rod again and suddenly the point clicked against something. “That’s odd. The click, I mean.”

  “Usually it’s a thunk,” Jaxom agreed knowledgeably.

  Jancis consulted her sheet, which she had carefully taped to a writing board. “These unusual long protruberances are listed as solar panels,” she said, showing Jaxom the diagram. “None of the other buildings have such features.” She moved her arm in a wide sweep of the nearby mounds. Suddenly she grinned at Jaxom so infectiously that he responded with a broad smile. “D’you think it’s a good hunch?”

  “Sounds like it. Got mother trowel?” She did, and they carefully began to clear the accumulated dirt from one of the six long solar panels.

  “Farli!” Piemur gestured for the little queen to help. They were all a bit startled when Ruth extended one forepaw, offering to assist.

  “Not right now, Ruth,” Jaxom said, turning to hold a finger up to his inquisitive friend. “But we’re likely to need you later.”

  “Careful, Farli,” Piemur cautioned as the fire-lizard fell to her digging with the boundless, and often misplaced, energy of her kind.

  Farli chirped inquiringly. “Yes, right here,” Jancis said absently. “Be careful, will you?” Jaxom winked at Piemur, who felt absurdly proud of the easy way Jancis interacted with his little queen.

  Farli obediently moderated her efforts, using a slow claw-over-claw technique, until she stopped, chittering with success, when her talons exposed a dull black surface.

  “Careful…”Jancis used her hands to comb the remaining ash aside, revealing a hand-wide square. Farli patted it, her claw tips clicking. “I don’t know what this is. It’s not their usual material. It’s more like dense opaque glass.” She rapped on it experimentally. “Doesn’t sound like glass.”

  “Let’s get the whole piece uncovered,” Jaxom suggested.

  But revealing a complete panel made them no wiser. So they excavated the other five panels on the south-facing roof and then, with Ruth’s assistance, the entire roof, which proved to be clad in hand-square sections. Once a piece broke loose, slithering to the ground, but fortunately it was not damaged by the fall.

  “Look, these tiles cover the original roofing material. Mortared on.” With a sharp cutting tool, Jancis scratched at the surface of a tile. “It could be ceramic, but it’s the hardest I’ve ever seen. However did they get such strength to ceramics?” she wondered aloud.

  “Could these possibly be ceramic, too?” Jaxom asked, tapping one of the long panels.

  Piemur was lying prone, poking his finger around one panel. “It’s always a possibility. You know, these are attached somehow to, and maybe even penetrate, the original
roof. All the tiles were carefully shaped to fit snugly around the panels and on the roof. Very curious. Why wouldn’t the panels be covered against the heat, too? I don’t understand this. D’you think your grandfather should have a look at this?”

  “Master Esselin should see it first,” she said, none too happily. “He’s in charge here.”

  “Of excavating,” Jaxom said, motioning Ruth to him. “But Fandarel checks new materials.” He grinned as he slipped onto Ruth’s back. “He’ll be at these caves I came to see?”

  “Have a look in passing,” Piemur yelled as Ruth launched himself upward.

  “You and Lord Jaxom seem to be old friends,” Jancis remarked casually as she reached for her notepad and the transparent measuring stick. She saw his look and flushed. “Well, we did find several boxes of them, you know.”

  “Tools are meant to be used,” he replied magnanimously. “There are things to be kept for what they are, and things that should be used because they’re more efficient than anything we have.” He grinned at her discomfort, and she got busy with her measurements.

  In a very few minutes, Ruth returned with Jaxom and the Mastersmith, Fandarel’s massive bulk dwarfing even the tall Ruathan and certainly looking conspicuous on the small white dragon. For a man of his size, however, Fandarel was agile and active, lying flat by one of the solar panels to examine it thoroughly, running his fingers over the puzzling new surface.

  “This tiling is familiar,” he said, grimacing at another loose piece and rubbing his thumb over it. “It was not meant to lie flat, either. See, there is a slight rounding to it. It might have been bedded in this mortar…” He pinched some of the dusty stuff visible where the section had lain. “But this was not its original purpose.”

  Jaxom let out a sudden whoop. “It’s like the coating on the flying ships in the meadow!”

  “Why would they coat a building with—” Piemur began.

  “Heat tolerance. There’d be heat, or friction—” Jancis said at the same time.

  They both broke off, startled by the sight of the smith precariously tilted groundward to examine the exposed corner of the roof and wall. He grunted, waving one hand urgently at the three young people. Jancis held out the trowel; he grabbed it and began chipping away the dirt around the corner, murmuring to himself. He sounded both puzzled and pleased.

  “Jaxom, would Ruth be kind enough to dig out this corner section for me?” That was soon enough accomplished, though Ruth did knock off a few more of the tiles, apologizing through Jaxom for it.

  “Tell him not to worry,” the Mastersmith replied. “The mortar that held them in place has accomplished its purpose. Your theory is supported, Jancis. These tiles were added to protect what’s in this curious building against the heat of lava. Now what does it contain?”

  “An aivas,” Jancis said, clearing her throat conspicuously and passing the drawing to her grandfather. Piemur noticed how subdued she had become, turning into a very proper and self-effacing young lady.

  “And what, Master Fandarel, is an ‘aivas’?” Jaxom asked patiently.

  “I don’t know, Jaxom,” the smith replied. “Let us all find out.”

  “Jancis had the hunch,” Piemur said, wanting her to assert herself.

  “Good girl. Always uses her eyes and her wits,” the smith said, surprised at Piemur’s fervent agreement. Then Fandarel dropped off the roof and went to round up a full team of excavators, unceremoniously excusing them from their other projects. He rudely ignored Master Esselin and Breide when they demanded explanations, telling them absently to go do something they were qualified to do. By evening the annex was completely unearthed to reveal that, unlike all other ancient buildings, it had neither windows nor door, and that the original walls were of a double thickness. Ventilation slats were finally discovered under the eaves, but they allowed no glimpse of the interior. At sunset, the smith called a halt, giving orders that the project was now the highest priority and that Master Esselin should see that there was a full complement of workers to secure access to the ADMIN building and the mysterious aivas as soon after daylight as possible.

  “Look, I’ve got to get back to Ruatha,” Jaxom said as the smith concluded his instructions. “Sharra’s going to be disgusted with not being able to travel right now. She’s pregnant again, you see.” His grin was both embarrassed and proud.

  For the first time, Piemur discovered that he felt no pain at Jaxom and Sharra’s happiness. “Nuisance, that,” he said, grinning back. “Listen, would Ruth mind dropping Jancis and me off at Cove Hold? Master Robinton will want a full report on this.”

  Ruth did not mind at all.

  “Another marvel?” Master Robinton asked. His workspace was littered with examples of the cavern artifacts. “It’s going to take us till the end of the Pass to document what we’ve already got.” Almost irritably, he shoved at the mess around him. “Things! The ancients had so many things!”

  Piemur chuckled as he automatically refilled the Master’s empty wineglass.

  “A building is not a thing, Master Robinton. D’ram, have you or Lord Lytol come across any reference to the ‘aivas’?” he asked.

  “It was not listed on the evacuation plan,” Lytol said, reaching over to find the relevant notes.

  “Maybe an aivas couldn’t be evacuated,” Jaxom suggested. “They did leave some heavy equipment behind. Not that you could guess its purpose from the slag it is now. But those remains were left in a special room with no doors or windows, only ventilation grills. And thicker walls than usual. We’ll have to go through the ADMIN building.”

  “If we can, “Piemur said gloomily.

  “That’s a double thickness of the heaviest gauge of their material,” Jancis said thoughtfully. “So far Grandfa cannot find a way of penetrating it, even using the ancients’ drill bits.”

  “Aivas, aivas, aivas,” Master Robinton mused. “It doesn’t sound like a real word. An aiva, the aiva, many aivas!” He flicked one hand in a gesture of defeat. “You will stay the night, won’t you, Jancis? Our current cook has a way with fish that’s magical.” His charming smile brought an answering one from Jancis. “Then we can all get up to the Plateau in plenty of time for yet another revelation.”

  After dinner, when Piemur went to check on Stupid, he invited Jancis to come along.

  “That’s a terrible name to call any creature,” Jancis chided him as he led the way, glowbasket overhead, toward the fenced clearing where the little runnerbeast was accommodated.

  “It’s an old joke,” Piemur said lamely, but even Jancis was impressed when Stupid nickered in response to his name and trotted over, thrusting out his nose to nuzzle his master. “You don’t mind, do you, Stupid? If I called you anything else, you wouldn’t answer, would you?”

  Stupid waggled his ears and nickered again as Farli joined them, settling, as usual, on the little runner’s rump. He switched his tail, and she scolded him.

  “They really like each other,” Jancis exclaimed. “I didn’t think runners liked fire-lizards or dragons.”

  Piemur chuckled, leaning against the top rail of the enclosure, idly rubbing Stupid’s soft nose. By the light of Belior moon, Jancis looked slightly mysterious, the planes of her face touched by the white light.

  “Well, it’s a fact Stupid shies away from any dragon, even Ruth. You haven’t been dragon food yet, have you, friend?” he teased. “But he and I and Farli make a pretty good team.”

  “They say,” Jancis said, scratching just the right spot on Stupid’s neck and causing him to lean into her fingers, tilting his head, eyes half-closed,” that you and Stupid and Farli walked the entire coast of Southern.”

  “Only from Southern Hold to Cove Hold. I got excused the rest of it.”

  “Even that much took a lot of courage.”

  “Courage?” Piemur snorted at the notion. “Courage had little to do with it. I was born naturally inquisitive. And,” he added in a sudden spurt of honesty, “it was one way to keep Toric
from exiling me from Southern.”

  “Why would Lord Toric do that?”

  “He didn’t fancy me as marriage kin.” Piemur had shifted position so that he was closer to her, though still ostensibly leaning indolently on the rail.

  “You? And Sharra?”

  Piemur grinned. “For that matter, he didn’t fancy Jaxom as marriage kin, but he got talked into it.” Finally Piemur could appreciate the full irony of that confrontation. “He didn’t fancy his sister married to the lord of a table-sized hold.”

  “What?” Jancis, appropriately indignant, ceased scratching Stupid’s neck and turned toward Piemur. “Why, Ruatha has one of the oldest Bloodlines on Pern. Everyone with marriageable daughters was hoping to attract Lord Jaxom.”

  “Toric had bigger plans for Sharra.” Piemur worked his way a little closer to her as Stupid swung his head back to nip at a nightfly.

  “How could he? Jaxom’s the only young Lord Holder. And they say they’re devoted to each other. She nursed him through fire-head right here at Cove Hold.”

  “I know,” Piemur murmured. Smiling, he put both hands on the rail, one on either side of Jancis. When she became aware of the maneuver, he grinned down at her, waiting for her reaction. “And what do they say about Journeyman Piemur?”

  She dared him, the dimple flashing in her cheek, a dark spot on her moonlit face. “What they say about any harper journeyman, of course. That they’re not to be trusted for a moment.”

  Slowly, so she could escape if she really wanted to, and he hoped very much that she did not, he lowered his head and brought his arms up to hold her. “Especially not on moonlit nights like this, huh?” He touched her lips very gently with his, aware that they were parted in a smile and that she had no intention of ducking away at the last moment. Abruptly she was pushed forcefully into his arms. He tightened them to keep her from falling just as her arms went around him to steady herself. “Thank you, Stupid, that’ll do quite nicely.” And Piemur made excellent use of his runner’s headlong assistance.