Then he walked to the ravine side and pointed downward and to his left. "There, Master, that's where the ancients had their power station."
Fandarel squinted, shielding his eyes with one huge hand, then nodded in satisfaction as he saw the remains of the building. Something had smashed into it from a height. Probably the same debris that had breached the dam, crashing down on the place with tremendous force.
"D'clan, if you and Pranith would be good enough to take us down there," Fandarel said, pointing. "Evan and I will go first to be sure it is safe enough."
D'clan and Pranith obliged, finding sufficient room to set down by the ruins. All that was left of the structure were the heavy girders that had supported the roof of the power station, and the inner wall, which looked to be cemented to the naked rock. But the floor, despite a thick carpet of pebble-encrusted dirt a full knife blade deep, had remained impervious to the passage of time.
"Those strong young backs can clear this, Evan," Fandarel said. "D'clan, can you wave the others down here? Then the dragons may have a swim."
"They spend more time in the water than in the air," D'clan complained. "They're more likely to wash the hide off 'em, if they're not careful. A hide-damaged dragon's no good between." But his tone was more affectionate than captious.
While the others started shoveling away the mud, Fandarel and Evan made careful measurements of the area to be enclosed, then calculated where the new power wheel would be situated. With deft lines, Evan made a preliminary sketch of what the finished installation would look like. Fandarel, watching over his shoulder, nodded approval. Then he looked about, squinting up at the high, smooth face of the dam and the hillsides.
"Now," he said, satisfied with his analysis of the site's needs, "we go back to Telgar, to assemble the components." He grinned at Evan. "It will be a novel thing, will it not, to work from proper plans?"
Evan merely raised his eyebrows. "Can't be but more efficient that way."
"My dear F'lar," Robinton said reassuringly to the Weyrleader, who was patently disappointed at his failure to gain the full backing of the Lord Holders, "Aivas impressed Larad, Asgenar, Groghe, Toronas, Bargen, and Warbret, plus Jaxom. Seven out of sixteen's not bad for a start. Oterel's doddering, and Corman always needs time to mull things over. If the various projects for which you will need workers here continue to clear out that beggars' cave of Laudey's, he'll back you." Robinton put one hand on F'lar's shoulder and gave it just a little shake. "F'lar, you so desperately want to eradicate Thread. That's your first responsibility. Managing their Holds is theirs, and sometimes, as we both know, they forget the wider view. Yes, K'van?" The Harper had been aware that the young Southern Weyrleader was hovering in the background. "Have I been monopolizing F'lar when you need a word with him?"
"If I might intrude..." K'van said.
"My glass is empty." With a raffish grin, Robinton took himself back to the food-laden table in search of a wineskin.
"Was Lord Toric asked?" K'van said hesitantly.
"Yes, indeed, he was, K'van." F'lar drew him to one corner of the room, where they were less likely to be drawn into the lively discussions of the other Weyrleaders. "I charged Breide in particular to let him know."
K'van managed a fleeting grin-they both knew that Breide's main function at Landing was to report to the Southern Lord Holder everything of interest. Breide's conscientiousness often served up such quantities of trivia that Toric obviously did not bother to read the reports.
"He's trying to get enough men over to the island to shift Denol and his kin." Everyone knew that Toric was furious about the attempt by a band of rebels to take over the island he claimed as part of his Hold.
"I'd've thought he'd accomplished that already," F'lar said in surprise. "Toric can be very determined."
K'van's grin was sour. "He's also determined to have the Weyr's help."
F'lar started angrily. "There's no way he's to have that, K'van!"
"And so I've told him, time and again. The Weyr is not there for his convenience."
"And?"
"He doesn't take my no as final, F'lar." K'van faltered and he gave a helpless shrug to his shoulders. "I know I'm young to be a Weyrleader..."
"Your youth is not a relevant factor, K'van. You're a good Weyrleader, and I've had that assurance from the older riders in your Weyr! "
K'van was young enough to flush with pleasure at hearing such praise. "Toric wouldn't agree," he replied, twitching his straight-held shoulders.
F'lar could not deny the fact that K'van's slim, youthful build would put him at a disadvantage in a confrontation with the tall and powerful Southern Lord Holder. At the time K'van's Heth had flown Adrea's queen, Toric had been enthusiastic about having a Benden-trained Weyrleader. But he had not had rank rebellion in his Hold at that point.
"At first," K'van went on, "he wanted the Weyr to take his soldiers to the island. When I refused, he said that he'd be satisfied that I'd done my duty to the Hold if I told him where the rebels had made their camp. His argument was that we overfly the island during a Pass so wed see where they were, and that information would assist him in suppressing the rebellion. When I refused, he started to harass some of the older bronze riders, suggesting that I'm too young to know my duty to the Lord Holder."
"I trust he's had no joy on that score," F'lar said sharply.
K'van shook his head. "No, they told him that such action was not a Weyr responsibility. Then-" The young Weyrleader hesitated.
"Then?" F'lar prompted grimly.
"He tried to bribe one of my blue riders with the promise of finding him a suitable friend."
"That is enough!" F'lar's expression darkened, and he irritably pushed hair back from his forehead. "Lessa!" he called, beckoning urgently to her.
When F'lar explained K'van's problem, she was equally incensed.
"You'd think he'd know better by this time not to try to bully dragonriders," she said, her voice crisp with anger. When she saw K'van's apprehensive expression, she gave him a reassuring touch. "It's scarcely your fault Toric is as greedy as a Bitran."
"Desperate, more like," K'van said with the hint of a smile. "Master Idarolan told me that Toric had offered him a small fortune in gems and a fine harbor if he'd sail a punitive force to the Island. But he wouldn't. And, furthermore, he's told all the other Shipmasters that they're not -to help Toric in this matter. They won't, either."
"Toric has ships of his own," Lessa said irritably.
K'van had relaxed enough to grin. "But none large enough to transport a sufficiently large force to be effective. His landing parties have been ambushed and either wounded severely enough to make them useless or imprisoned by the rebels." His grin grew broader. "I've got to hand it to Denol-he's clever. But I wanted to tell you what's been happening before lies or rumors got back to you-or other Lord Holders complained about our attitude."
"Quite correct, K'van," F'lar said.
"We'll have to find time to visit Lord Toric," Lessa said, a steely look in her eyes. Then she smiled, a nasty smile that made K'van relieved that it was not directed against him. "Lord Toric needs a full report on Aivas and what's happening here at Landing. I think we'll inform him ourselves, F'lar?"
"I'm not sure when," F'lar said with a sigh. "But we'll make the time somehow. K'van, just keep your Weyr out of Toric's squabble."
"I shall!" And there was no doubt in the Benden Weyrleaders' minds that he would. K'van had been a determined and responsible youngster, and now that he was grown to manhood, those traits were refined. He would stand against Toric simply because Toric didn't think he could.
Now, place this plug," Aivas told Piemur, illustrating the appropriate one on the monitor, "in this female socket!" When Piemur had complied, Aivas went on. "There should be a green light on the base of the monitor."
"There isn't," Piemur said in a voice that was almost a wail. He sighed gustily, hanging on to his patience.
"Then there is a faulty connection. Re
move the cover and check the boards, mother, input-output, and memory," Aivas said. It didn't help Piemur's temper that Aivas seemed totally unruffled by yet another failure. It simply wasn't normal for an entity to be so bloody methodically insensitive. "Machines must first be properly assembled before they can function as they were designed. That is the first step. Be patient. It is only a matter of discovering which is the faulty connection."
Piemur found that he was trying to bend the screwdriver in his hand. He took a deep breath and, not daring to look to either side of him, where Benelek and Jancis were concentrating on assembling their own devices, he removed the cover of his. Once more.
They had been at this tedious and exacting task ever since Terry had arranged all the wires and connecting cords to Aivas's satisfaction. It soothed Piemur only slightly that Benelek, who had always been mechanically inclined and good with his hands, was not faring any better. Nor was Jancis, though her current ineptitude distressed him for her sake. Piemur's shoulders ached with cramp, his fingers were thick with all the finicky little movements, and he was going sour on the whole project. It had seemed such a simple affair. Find the cartons in the caves with the stored units, dust 'em off, start 'em up, and that d be that. But it wasn't. First Aivas had made them learn what each unit was-keyboard, liquid-crystal display, computer box, touch keyboard panel and the codes for the various "boards" that activated the computer terminal. Fortunately, when it came to soldering broken connections, Jancis and Benelek were adept. Piemur burned his fingers once or twice in practice, but he caught on quickly enough. Fingers made dexterous by playing instruments easily adapted to the new task. But the initial enthusiasm that had motivated Piemur since before dawn had long since drained out of him. Only the fact that neither Jancis nor Benelek faltered kept him going.
"Let us begin again," the inexorable, calm Aivas voice continued, "by checking each panel to be sure there is no damage or break in the circuits or chips."
"I've done that twice already," Piemur said, setting his jaw.
"Then it must be done again. Make use of the magnifying glass. That is why our boards were all made to be visible, serviceable. On Earth it was not possible to check them visually like this. There it was done by facilities in factory outlets. Here we must just proceed patiently."
Holding his temper firmly in check, Piemur went over the chips, circuit by circuit, scrutinizing the resistors and capacitors. The beads and silvery lines that had once fascinated him had become anathema, called by stupid terms that meant nothing to him but trouble. He devoutly wished he had never seen the bloody things. Close scrutiny did not disclose any obvious breaks. So, exercising the greatest control on his fingers, he replaced each component as carefully as he could. They all slotted firmly into place.
"Be sure that each card is seated securely in the grooves," said the ever-calm Aivas.
"I just did, Aivas!" Piemur knew he sounded petulant, but in the face of Aivas's imperturbability, he found it even harder to be objective. Then his good humor reasserted itself. Machines, he reminded himself facetiously, did only what they were programmed to do. They did not have emotions to interfere with the smooth performance of their duties-once a smooth performance had been attained.
"Before you replace the cover, Piemur, blow gently across the unit to be sure there are no motes of dust clogging the connections."
Master Esselin had the reconstruction of the Aivas facility in hand, but the work roused clouds of dust, some of which sifted into the chamber despite all precautions.
Piemur blew carefully, Replaced the cover. Picked up the plug and inserted it. It took him a full moment to realize that a green light indeed shone on the panel just where it was supposed to, and that a letter had appeared on the liquid-crystal display. He let out a whoop, startling Jancis and Benelek.
"Don't do that, Piemur," the young journeyman exclaimed, scowling up at him. "I nearly soldered the wrong connection."
"It's really working, Piemur?" Jancis looked up hopefully.
"Green and go!" Piemur chortled, rubbing his hands together, ignoring Benelek's sour looks. "All right, Aivas, now what do I do? "
"Using the letters on the keys in front of you, tap out README."
Hunting out the various letters, Piemur tapped out the phrase. Instantly the screen in front of him blossomed with words, numbers, and letters.
"Hey, look, you two. Words! My own screen full of words!"
Benelek spared only an irritated glance, but Jancis rose to stand behind him and admire the result. She gave him an approving pat and then returned to her task.
"Read carefully and absorb the information on the screen," Aivas said, "and you will learn how to access the programs you need to reach the information you desire. First you must become familiar with the terms. Being comfortable with these terms increases your efficiency as an operator."
By the time Piemur had read through the instructions several times, he wasn't much wiser, for it appeared to him that familiar words no longer meant what they should. He sighed and started at the beginning of the page again. Words were a harper's profession, and he would learn these new interpretations if it took him a full Turn.
"I've got it, too!" Jancis cried elatedly. "I've got a green light, too!"
"That makes three of us then," Benelek said smugly. "And I tap Out README, Aivas? "
"The initial lesson is the same for all, Benelek. You are to be congratulated! Have more students been enlisted in this project? There is much to be done."
"Patience, Aivas," Piemur said, imitating the machine's tone and grinning at Jancis. "They'll come in their fairs once word has got round."
"The rider of the white dragon, Lord Jaxom? Will he be one?"
"Jaxom?" Piemur asked, mildly surprised."I wonder where he got to."
4
FOR MOST of that day, Jaxom had been as thoroughly thwarted as Piemur could have wished. He and Ruth had transported five loads of cartons from the caves to the Aivas building, then just when the last had been off-loaded, Master Fandarel had urgently requested the two of them to convey Bendarek back to Lemos and his crafthall. The woodsmith couldn't wait to initiate Aivas's plans to redesign his paper-making machinery and to improve the quality of the product by adding a rag content to the wood pulp.
When Jaxom and Ruth returned to Landing, Master Terry had needed help in locating cables and wires which, after much scrambling about, were found in an almost-overlooked alcove in the caves. Jaxom and Ruth naturally obliged Master Terry by transporting him and the coils back to the Aivas building. Jaxom tried not to care, reminding himself that he was assisting the overall effort, except that he had had rather different notions of how he and Ruth would spend the day.
The white dragon had looked forward to basking in the hot Southern sun. The winter in the North had been cold and clammy, with little sunshine. And Jaxom had especially wanted to work on Aivas's contraptions with Piemur, Jancis, and Benelek.
But Jaxom had made a habit of being accessible, amiable, and helpful. People found it much easier to ask him to oblige than they did other dragons and riders. As Ruth never objected, Jaxom felt constrained to assist whenever they could. Sharra thought it was because he was so determined to be the opposite of his despotic sire, Fax. She felt Jaxom carried this second-generation atonement too far sometimes, and she was quick to interfere if she felt his willingness was being abused. But she was back in Ruatha, and this was rapidly becoming one of those times when amiability was a bloody nuisance.
By the time Terry had off-loaded his coils of wires, Jaxom became aware of a rumbling in his stomach-not surprising, since he had had nothing but klah and a meatroll with Menolly and Sebell in the early morning. Sharra always worried about him remembering to take time to eat, and Jaxom tried to remember her injunctions. He wished that her gravid condition had not prevented her from accompanying him here, but she couldn't risk going between right now. So he walked over to the kitchen building, unaware that F'lar was holding the extraordinary m
eeting, or he would have been there to lend his support. Jaxom had to help himself to food, because the cook and the drudges were busy dealing with an apprentice who had badly burned his hand do a hot spit-which reminded him that he had promised to convey Master Oldive to Landing. Maybe when that chore was done, he and Ruth could do as they wished.
When Jaxom and Ruth came out of between above the great courtyard of the combined Harper and Healer Halls in Fort Hold, Ruth was suddenly surrounded by a chittering fair of fire-lizards, their demands shrill with warning.
"What's the matter with them, Ruth?" Jaxom asked.
Master Oldive doesn't want you to land in the courtyard, Ruth replied. He says the harpers will latch on to you and he'll never get to Landing. Ruth sounded puzzled, but Jaxom laughed.
"I should've thought of that myself. So what does Master Oldive suggest we do?"
I don't know. They've gone to tell him we're here. Ruth glided to the far side of the big Harper Hall complex, where they would not be so easily seen from either the Hall or the adjacent Fort Hold.
He comes, Ruth said, just as they were once again surrounded try now happily chirping fairs of fire-lizards, doing one of their intricate aerial displays of delight. They see us from the Hold, he added, as another full fair of fire-lizards came zooming in on them, shrieking urgently. No, we have more important things to do than stop at the Hold right now, Ruth said, and added a warning bugle that sent the newcomers whizzing back, their voices thin with distress at his reprimand.
"Lord Groghe's at Landing," Jaxom said, trying not to feel guilty about ignoring the request. "He'll tell them all he wants them to know when he gets back."
His queen fire-lizard has been in and out of the Hold with messages. They know all they need to know about this Aivas, Ruth rumbled in subtle discontent.
Jaxom slapped the white dragon's neck affectionately. "You wouldn't fit in the room, dear friend. Piemur said his Farli went to sleep, totally uninterested in Aivas."
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