Zair regarded him, tilting his head sideways, his eyes whirling ever so slightly with the green of contentment, and gave a chirp. Then he rose and stretched, his transparent wings arching over his head before he shook and folded them tightly along his spine.
"So, are Tiroth and Dram awake to take me?"
Zair ignored him and began to groom his left hind claws.
"I gather that means I must bathe and eat first?" As he rose, Robinton realized that he had slept in his trousers-for the second night in a row. He shucked them off, snagged a large towel, and, opening the door from his corner room to the wide porch that sheltered Cove Hold from the intense sunlight, strode out. Descending the flight of steps with more vigor than he had climbed them the previous night, he jogged down the sandy track to the sea. Zair swirled overhead, crooning approval as Robinton dropped the towel on the white sand of the Cove and continued on into the pleasant waters. With Zair plunging into the next wave right beside him, Robinton emerged, propelling himself forward with a strong overarm stroke. A group of wild fire-lizards joined him and Zair, zipping just above the water alongside him or plunging in just in front of his face, missing body contact by inches. As often as they had seen humans bathing in the sea, they never ceased to be fascinated by swimmers.
Robinton turned back to shore, allowing the waves to carry his body forward. The sea was gentle this morning, but the exercise was still a fine toner. He dried himself off, then knotted the towel about his waist and strode off toward the house, where Dram and Lytol were waiting on the porch. "Tell them, Zair, that I'm completely refreshed and in vigorous health."
"You're awake, are you?" D'ram called. "About time. It's well past noon."
"Past noon?" Robinton stopped in his tracks, appalled at having wasted so much time sleeping. Who knew what he had missed of Aivas's disclosures that morning? "You should have wakened me!" He did not attempt to keep the irritation out of his voice.
"Your body has more sense than you do," Lytol added, rising from the hammock hanging in the corner of the porch. "You got only the sleep you needed, Robinton. Pour him some klah, Dram, while I finish preparing his breakfast-our lunch."
As Robinton came up the steps, the aroma of the klah that Dram was pouring was enough to remind him that hunger was a need, too. He settled himself down, and between bites of the substantial breakfast that Lytol served him he brought them up to date.
"And so, the miracle begins," he said, finishing his account.
"You've no doubt in your mind, Robinton," Lytol said with his usual skepticism, "that this Aivas can effect the annihilation of Thread?"
"By the first Egg, Lytol, one cannot doubt it. The marvels we saw, the very fact that our ancestors made that incredible flight from the planet of our origin, lend credibility to his promise. We have only to relearn the skills we lost, and we can triumph over this ancient menace."
"Aye, but why didn't the ancients rid us of Thread then, with all their incredible crafts and their full knowledge of the technology lost to us?" Lytol asked.
"You're not the only one to query that, Lytol," Robinton said. "But Aivas explained that the volcanic eruptions came at a crucial time and the settlers went north to establish a safe base. So their plans to defeat Thread were interrupted."
"Why didn't they come back when Threadfall ceased?"
"That Aivas didn't know." Robinton had to recognize that there were gaps in Aivas's account. "And yet... a musical instrument can only do what it is constructed to do, or one of Fandarel's machines. Therefore, a machine, even as sophisticated as Aivas, could do only what it/he was designed to do. It/ he"-I really must make up my mind how I consider the thing, Robinton thought-"is unlikely to tell lies. Though I suspect he," Robinton said, making up his mind, "does not reveal the whole truth. We've had enough trouble absorbing and understanding what he's already told us."
Lytol gave a snort, a cynical expression on his face which, Robinton was relieved to notice, was not mirrored by Dram.
"I would like to believe that we can!" Robinton added.
"Who wouldn't?" Lytol said, relenting slightly.
"I believe Aivas," Dram said. "He speaks with such authority. He explained that the time will be right in four years that is, Turns-ten months and twenty-seven days. Twenty-six today. The time factor has to be correct to succeed."
"Succeed in what?" Lytol persisted.
"That is something we must also learn." Robinton laughed in self-disparagement. "Not to put too fine a point on it, Lytol, but we're plainly too ignorant to understand his explanation. He did try-something about windows, and leaving Pern at just the precise moment to intercept the Red Star, or rather the planet which appears red to us for so much of its orbit in our skies. He showed us the diagram." Noting his defensive tone, he shook himself. "If you wish to query him, Lytol, I'm sure you can."
Lytol cast Robinton a sardonic look. "There are others with greater reason to consult Aivas."
"But you must hear our history from Aivas, Lytol," Dram said, leaning forward across the table. "You'll appreciate then why we can so unreservedly believe in Aivas and in his promise."
"He really has got to you, hasn't he?" Lytol shook his head at their credulousness.
"If you listen to what he says, you'll believe," Robinton said, rising. He had to clutch at the towel to keep it from slipping, which reduced the dignity of his pronouncement. "I'm dressing to return to Landing. Dram, will you and Tiroth oblige me?"
"Since you are rested," Dram said, giving his housemate a long and searching look, "we will, of course, oblige. Lytol, will you not join us?"
"Not today."
"Are you afraid of being won over despite your reservations?" Robinton asked.
Lytol shook his head slowly. "That's not likely. But go. Enjoy your dream of Threadfree skies."
"The last of the true skeptics," Robinton muttered under his breath, somewhat disturbed by Lytol's continued disbelief. Did Lytol think old age had dulled Robinton's wits or discriminatory faculties? Or did he believe, like Corman, that the Harper was gullible enough to be taken in by any plausible story?
"No," Dram assured him when he voiced the question to the old Weyrleader as they walked toward bronze Tiroth, waiting for them on the strand. "He's too pragmatic. He told me yesterday that we were far too excited to think logically about the repercussions Aivas will have on our lives. Altering the basic structure of our society and its values and all that twaddle." D'ram's snort indicated that he did not agree. "He's been through several upheavals himself. He's unlikely to welcome another."
"But you do?"
Dram smiled over his shoulder at the Harper as he settled himself between Tiroth's neck ridges. "I'm a dragonrider, Harper, and dedicated to the eradication of Thread. If there is even the slightest hope . . ." He shrugged. "Tiroth, take us to Landing!"
"Watch out, D'ram," the Harper cautioned. "It's undergone considerable alterations even since yesterday noontime when you left it."
So Monarth warns me. Although the Harper knew that Tiroth was speaking directly to Dram, his chest swelled with the privilege of hearing. I have the altered .scene from him. It has changed.
Was there a note of discontent in Tiroth's tone?
However, the great bronze dragon took them between and reentered on the hill west of the Aivas building, hovering in the air above the line of dragons sunning themselves on the promontory. Robinton looked up at the dragons on the hill, to see if he recognized any of the bronzes or the queens. Then he remembered that Benden Weyr would be involved in riding Threadfall today.
Gliding down toward the building, Robinton and Dram could not see the alterations until the bronze veered to his right and backwinged to land on the wide yard.
"I'd no idea!" D'ram gasped, turning to stare at the Harper, who was no less surprised than he.
Robinton hid his own reaction behind a quick smile of reassurance. Obviously, Lytol was in the minority, to judge by the changes here: all designed to facilitate access to Aiva
s. The original wing had been tripled in size, with odd lean-to sheds, like skirts, along all three sides. As the Harper dismounted, he recognized more of Fandarel's batteries housed under the sheds-sufficient power, he assumed, to sustain the entity all the hours of the day and night until the new and more powerful water-turbines were finished.
In the broad new courtyard, several knots of folk were arguing vociferously with each other while, above their heads, fire-lizards made raucous sounds of agitation. Most of the people wore the shoulder knots of Masters and journeymen from various Crafts; their tunic devices told Robinton that they came from different Holds, as well.
"Free-for-all?" D'ram asked, dropping to the ground beside Robinton.
"That's what it certainly sounds like," Robinton did not recognize any of the dissenters, though he noted four of Master Esselin's biggest workmen standing in front of the closed doors of the building. He took a deep breath and strode forward.
"Now, just what seems to be the trouble here?" he asked loudly. It took only a moment for all the disputants to realize who was addressing them; immediately he was encircled, each plaintiff demanding his attention. "Now wait just a moment!" he bellowed. Behind him on the hill, bronze and gold dragons added their authoritative bugle, and silence fell. Then he pointed at one man wearing a Masterminer's knot and Crom's device.
"Master Esselin will not let us in," the man said belligerently.
"And my Lord Holder"-a man wearing the head-Steward knots of Boll pushed forward from the group-"insists that we be given the facts about this mysterious being."
"Deckter charged me to do the same," a Steward from Nabol said in the most aggrieved tone of the three. "We demand to know the truth about this Aivas. And I'm to see this marvel before I return to Nabol."
"Yes, you all have been unconscionably slighted," Robinton said soothingly. "And those of us who have been fortunate to hear Aivas know that seeing Aivas is the first step in believing what he can do for us all, Hold, Hall, and Weyr. Why, I've only just been allowed to return." He feigned indignation at such an omission. That the much respected Harper of Pern should be denied access, too, seemed to appease them. "Now, you must realize that the room where Aivas is installed is quite small, though I notice there have been attempts to enlarge the space." He craned his neck as if trying to see just how much larger it was. "Hmmm. Yes, working day and night from the look of it. Most commendable really. Now, if you'll just bide here, I'll see what can be done about your quite legitimate request to see Aivas."
"I don't want to just see it," the miner complained. "I want it to tell me how to get back to the main lode of a very rich vein of ore. The ancients located all the ores on Pern. I want it to tell me where to dig, since it knows everything about Pern."
"Not everything, my dear fellow," Robinton said, less than surprised that Aivas was already being considered an omniscient being. Should he emphasize that Aivas was only-only? he thought bemusedly-a machine, a device that had served their ancestors as the receptacle of information? No, their understanding of machinery, craftsmen though many of them were, was too rudimentary. They would not grasp the concept of so complex a mechanical apparatus, let alone the concept of an artificial intelligence. The Masterharper didn't understand that all too well himself. He sighed with resignation. "And he knows very little about Pern as it is today, though a great deal about Pern as it was twenty-five hundred Turns ago. I suppose none of you heard that you were supposed to bring Hall Records with you? Aivas particularly wants to bring himself up to current times with every Hall, Hold, and Weyr."
"No one said anything about Records," the miner said, taken aback. "We heard it knew everything."
"Aivas will be the first to inform you that while his knowledge extends to many subjects and skills, he is not, happily, all knowing. He is... a talking Record, and far more accurate than ours, which tunnel snakes, time, and other perils have rendered illegible."
"We was told he knew everything!" the miner insisted stubbornly.
"Not even I know everything," Robinton responded gently. "Nor has Aivas even once suggested that he does. He knows a great deal more, however, than we do. And we shall all learn from him. Now, let me speak to Master Esselin on your behalf. There are, let's see, how many of you?" And he did a quick head count. "Thirty-four. Well, that's too many for one go. Dram, choose by lots. You all know Dram here as a fair man. You'll all have a turn-brief it may be, but Aivas you shall see."
Master Esselin was delighted to see the Harper but appalled at Robinton's solution to the matter of the plaintiffs.
"We can't send them away unhappy, Esselin. They have every bit as much of a right to see Aivas as a Lord Holder. More, even, because they'll be the doing of Aivas's grand plans over the next few years. Who's in there now?"
"Master Terry with Masters and journeymen from every Smithcrafthall in the world." Then his eyes went round with anxiety. "And Master Hamian from Southern Hold and two of his apprentices."
"Ali, Tories finally sent an emissary?" Robinton wasn't sure if the news pleased or worried him. He had rather hoped not to have to contend with Tories avarice yet.
"I don't think he comes on Lord Tories behalf." Esselin shook his head, his eyes still wide with apprehension. "Master Hamian did say to Master Terry that his sister, the Lady Sharra of Ruatha, suggested that he drop everything and come here immediately."
"And so he should. So he should," Robinton agreed affably. Hamian would be an excellent man to have involved here. A clever innovator who had already put back to use what the ancients had left behind in a Southern mine. "I'll just see when it's convenient to interrupt them for a few moments. Believe me, Esselin, it's the better part of discretion to give those fellows out there the chance to see Aivas for themselves."
"But they're only Stewards and small miners . . ."
"There are more of those than of Lord Holders and Crafthallmasters and Weyrleaders, Esselin, and every single one of them has the right to approach Aivas."
"That wasn't what I was told," Master Esselin said, resorting to his usual obstructive attitude, thrusting his heavy chin belligerently forward.
Robinton eyed him pityingly for such a long moment that even the thick-skinned Esselin could not fail to notice that his behavior was unacceptable to the Harper.
"I think you will find before the day is out that you will be told differently, Master Esselin. Now, if you will excuse me..." And with that Robinton strode down the hall to the Aivas chamber.
As he approached, he could hear Aivas's sonorous voice using the sort of penetrating tone that suggested he was addressing a large group. When Robinton quietly opened the door, he was first amazed at how many people were standing in the room, and then that even more occupied the new wings on either side of the Aivas facility. Two doors had been opened into the large annexes on either side. The two walls enclosing Aivas were intact, of course, but much more space had been made for larger audiences. This afternoon the group was composed of smiths who were, in general, possessed of large, powerful bodies. Master Nicat, the Masterminer, was seated at the front on a bench with Terry and two of his best Masters, who were all busily copying the diagrams on the main Aivas screen. Jancis was also there, in a corner, bent over a drawing board on her lap. Others in the room were doing their best to draw, too, some using the backs of others to steady their pads. Robinton could make no sense of the complicated design, but it was obvious from the rapt attention it was being given that it was of great importance to the Smithcrafters. Aivas was explaining, adding numbered specifications that also meant nothing to the Harper. The measured voice enjoined his listeners to ask questions on any point that was not clear.
"You have explained in such detail," Master Nicat said, his swarthy face wearing a most respectful expression, "that even the most simple-minded apprentice would understand."
"Ah, if you don't mind, Aivas..." A Masterminer whom Robinton knew to be the Master of the works at one of the larger Telgar iron foundries raised his hand. "If fa
ulty melts can be remedied up to standard, then can we repair the damage to ones long since discarded?"
"That is correct. The process can be applied to used metals. In fact, quite often the use of old metal improves the final product."
"Even metals made by the ancients?" Master Hamian asked. "We have found some in what I understand were the original workings at Andiyar's Stake in Dorado."
"Once in the crucible, the melt burns off impurities of all kinds." Then, to Robinton's astonishment, Aivas added, "Good afternoon, Master Robinton. What assistance do you need today?"
Robinton found himself embarrassed. "I do not intend to interrupt..."
"You aren't," Terry replied, rising and stretching. "Right, Nicat?" he added to the Masterminer, who looked like a man hoping that he had understood his orders.
The other craftsmen began low conversations with neighbors, and those nearest the door began to file out, carefully folding their drawings and notes.
As Robinton moved farther into the room, he caught the pungency of sweating bodies, laced with the taint of metal's acidity and the odd dank smell of deep mine shafts. As the room emptied, he could appreciate the size of the room that had been achieved overnight.
"Well, well!" he murmured, noticing the windows on either ends, opened to a breeze which began to circulate freely as the last of the craftsmen left. Jancis alone remained in her corner, furiously scribbling.
She looked up and smiled at the Harper. "We've accomplished so much today, Master Robinton."
"And did you get any sleep last night, young woman?"
Her cheeks dimpled in a mischievous smile. "Indeed we did!" And then she colored. "I mean, we both slept. I mean, Piemur fell asleep first-oh, blast!"
Robinton laughed heartily. "I won't misconstrue, Jancis, even if it mattered. You're not going to let all this fuss and fascination delay your formal announcement, are you?"
"No," she said firmly. "I want to bring the date forward." She blushed prettily but kept the eye contact. "It would make things easier." She gathered up her things. "The others are all in the computer room. You might want to take a crack at it, too."
All The Weyrs of Pern Page 11