All The Weyrs of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  "Yes, printed books would be much easier," the Harper agreed at last. "But according to what you've shown us, the settlers had other devices, much more compact."

  "That technology is too advanced to be considered at the present time and would involve processes that are presently beyond your abilities or needs."

  "Well, then, I'll settle for books."

  "That would be prudent of you."

  "And you will remain prudent in what you ask us to recreate? "

  "That is a corollary to the prime goal of this facility."

  Robinton was content with that answer. But just as he had his hand on the door pull, he turned. "Would this printing press be able to print musical scores, as well?"

  "Yes."

  "That would be much, much easier for the entire Hall," he said. He felt so buoyant as he retraced his steps down the hall that he began to whistle.

  7

  Present Pass 19

  LESSA ROUSED ABRUPTLY, opening her eyes to a darkness which suggested that daylight was still hours away. F'lar lay sprawled beside her, his forehead touching her shoulder, one arm thrown across her, one leg pinning hers down. Their bed was oversized, but he invariably managed to occupy more of it than she did. In fact, there were only finger lengths between her and the edge. She must have told herself to wake up at this barbarous hour-she had always had that ability. But why? Her mind was too sleep-fogged to provide an immediate answer.

  Ramoth was sound asleep, too. And Mnementh! All of Benden Weyr was asleep, including, she discovered with irritation, the dragon and rider supposedly on watch on the Rim. She would blast him as soon as she figured out why she was awake at this appallingly early hour.

  Then she saw the lighted clock face on the bedside locker. Three bloody of the clock! Progress was a two-edged dagger. Having a reliable timepiece that was visible in the dark only made the darkness and this early rising harder to endure. But seeing the clock reminded her of why she had to get up early that morning. She pushed at F'lar, who was never easy to wake up unless Mnementh called him.

  "F'lar, wake up! We've got to get up." Ramoth, dear, wake up! We've got to be at Landing. Aivas particularly wants us there. She prodded F'lar's shoulder more urgently and, struggling to pull her legs out from under his, reluctantly rose from the comfortable, warm bed. "We've got to get down to Landing early this morning. Early their morning."

  There were moments, and this was one of them, when Lessa's enthusiasm for the Project faltered. If, however, this was the morning when Aivas would set in train the results of two Turns of hard studying and work, the early rising would be a minor sacrifice.

  In the bigger chamber of the queen's weyr, she could hear Ramoth mumbling and grunting, denying the summons just as F'lar was doing.

  "Well, if I have to get up, you will, too," she said, and callously hauled the sleeping-fur off her weyrmate.

  "What the-" F'lar tried to grab the fur, but Lessa, with a chuckle, snatched it from his hand.

  "You've got to get up."

  "It's the middle of the bloody night, Lessa," he complained. "We don't have Fall for another day and a half."

  "Aivas wants us there at five of the clock Landing time."

  "Aivas! " He sat bolt upright, wide-eyed, pushing his tumbled hair back from his face.

  Lessa snorted at F'lar's response to that name.

  "My shirt!" he cried, shivering convulsively in the predawn cold. "Heartless woman!"

  She snatched shirt and pants up from the chair and tossed them to him. "I am not at all heartless!"

  Then she opened a glowbasket to find fresh clothes for herself. F'lar made a quick stop in the bathing room while she poured klah for them both. With her cup in her hand, she passed F'lar on her way in; then she washed quickly and replaited the ends of her braids.

  "Watch rider's asleep," she told him when she got back into the weyr, where he was stamping into his boots and shrugging on his riding jacket.

  "I know. I've sent Mnementh to scare the living lights out of both of them." He cocked his head then as they both heard a reverberating roar and a startled squeal. "That'll teach them."

  "One day Mnementh's going to startle one or both of a watchpair off the Rim!" she replied.

  He grinned at her. "Haven't yet! Here!" And he held out her flying jacket and cap. As she stuck her arms in the sleeves, he bent and kissed the back of her neck. F'lar was often amorous when he first woke.

  "That makes me shiver! " But she didn't pull away, so he kissed her again and hugged her affectionately. Leaving one arm across her shoulders, he guided her out to Ramoth's weyr.

  The gold queen's tail was still in the weyr; the rest of her was out on the ledge. And, as F'lar and Lessa joined her there, Mnementh lowered his head from the level above the queen's weyr, his eyes gleaming brilliant blue-green in the darkness.

  Who did you scare awake on watch up there, Mnementh?

  Lessa asked.

  Bfol and green Gereth. They won't sleep on watch again.

  The bronze dragon's tone was particularly severe, an attitude with which Lessa had no quarrel, for both B'fol and Gereth were well enough on in Turns not to be delinquent.

  "Next Fall, B'fol and Gereth will handle firestone sacks," F'lar remarked, having followed the exchange. This was no time for Benden Weyr to get slipshod. "Have we time for porridge? " he asked hopefully.

  Considering that days at Landing were apt to be spent in nonstop work, Lessa thought a good breakfast was only prudent, even if they were already behind the appointed hour. "We'll make time," she said, a ripple of mischievousness in her voice.

  "Now, now, Lessa," he began in a tone of mock reproof, "if we don't let anyone else time it..."

  "Rank has some privileges, and I'll think the better for a decent breakfast in my guts," she said. "So we'll make a little time. Especially since you're so hard to wake up." She laughed softly when he sputtered a protest. "If you please, Ramoth!" And the queen crouched to allow her rider to mount. "You won't mind giving F'lar a lift, will you, dearest? I don't want him falling off that upper ledge, trying to mount Mnementh in the dark."

  Ramoth turned her head toward F'lar and blinked. Of course.

  Mnementh waited until both riders were settled on the queen's neck before pushing off from the upper ledge and gliding down beside them to the floor of the Bowl. As soon as they had landed, the night lights in the Lower Caverns were visible, as well as the banked fire on the small hearth where a big kettle of porridge was simmering. The huge klah pot was pulled slightly to one side so that the contents would not become too strong to be palatable.

  As Lessa filled two bowls with the steaming cereal, she was glad that they had the place to themselves. The bakers must just have left-for the big table near the main hearth was full of cloth-covered breadpans. F'lar brought over two cups of klah, spooning an almost indecent amount of sweetener into his, and then sprinkling as much again over the porridge Lessa set in front of him.

  "It's a miracle you don't gain weight with all that sweetener," she began.

  "Or lose my teeth," he said, adding the second half of that long-standing complaint. He gave her his widest grin and tapped his teeth with his spoon. "But I don't and I haven't." He dug into his breakfast.

  Lessa sipped at her klah first, wanting to clear the last of sleep from her wits.

  "Do you suppose that Aivas is going to start the Project this morning?"

  F'lar shrugged as the question caught him with a hot mouthful. He swallowed. "I can't think why else he called a meeting of such a group at such an hour. According to the original schedule he gave us, we should be ready to start. Despite what some critics imply," he added with a grimace that had nothing to do with the piping-hot porridge on his spoon, "he keeps his promises."

  "So far," Lessa said in a dour tone.

  "Well, he has!" Then F'lar looked at his weyrmate. "You don't really believe he can keep his promise about Thread, do you?"

  "I just can't figure out how he can contr
ive to have us do what the settlers couldn't! " She glared at him, both relieved and sorry that she had come out with the doubt that had been increasingly bothering her.

  F'lar covered her hand with his. "He's done everything he's promised to do. And I believe him, not just because I, as a dragonrider, want to, but because he sounds so very sure."

  "But, F'lar, every time he's been asked, he hasn't promised that we will be able to destroy Thread. He's said it is possible. That's not quite the same thing."

  "Let's just see what today brings, huh, love?"

  F'lar gave her that knowing look of his which sometimes she wanted to scratch off his face. She took a deep breath and held back a scathing retort. Today could prove much, and as deeply as she wanted it to prove that F'lar was right to place so much confidence in Aivas, she had to prepare him for possible disappointment.

  "But if today is a disaster, that's going to reduce our effectiveness at next week's Conference at Tillek Hold to choose Oterel's successor."

  F'lar frowned. "I recognize that danger. I'm reasonably sure that Aivas also does. I'd say that's why he scheduled this meeting. His timing so far has been nothing short of phenomenal."

  "He and Lytol are really into the political aspects, aren't they? I could almost wish that Lytol was still Ruathan Lord Warder. That'd give Groghe the support he needs. Even I have heard the grumbling about Ruatha's young Lord Holder spending so much time down here instead of in his Hold."

  "At least Ranrel can't be considered too young to be a Lord Holder, Lessa," F'lar reminded her. "He's in his mid-thirties, with five children. And he's certainly the only one of Oterel's sons who's shown any initiative at all. That port-renewal project of his was inspired." F'lar chuckled. "Even if he did add insult to injury by insisting on using Hamian's stuff to build the new wharfs and reinforce the piers."

  Lessa had to grin, remembering the fuss Ranrel's innovative engineering had caused among those who derided or downright rejected any useful products of "the Abomination." F'lar scratched sleepily at his scalp and yawned.

  "And when the other brothers tried to belittle Ranrel's project, along comes Master Idarolan, raving about the facilities," she said.

  "That's not going to hurt when the Lord Holders convene. His mate's a Masterweaver. She's interested in having a power loom. I don't know where she found out that such things were possible."

  Lessa threw up her hands. "Everyone's gone 'power' mad."

  "It sure reduces sheer drudgery."

  "Hmm. Yes. Well, eat up. We'll be late."

  F'lar grinned before he upended his klah mug. "We already are, you know. It's as well you're permitting us to time it." He laughed at the wicked glare she gave him.

  After putting their crockery in the main sink to soak, they fastened jackets and caps and left the cavern.

  "We were supposed to be there half an hour ago, Ramoth," Lessa told her queen as she mounted. "We need to be there on time."

  If you insist, Ramoth replied disapprovingly.

  The others were already assembled in the main hall when the Benden Weyrleaders arrived. Robinton looked sleepy, but Jaxom, Mirrim, Piemur-with gold Farli curled about his shoulders-and the three male green riders ail appeared very wide-awake indeed.

  Jaxom straightened his shoulders and pulled at the lightweight sleeveless tunic he wore, to free it from his sweaty back. Irrepressibly, Piemur grinned at that evidence of his friend's nervousness. Mirrim was equally nervous. The other three green riders, L'zal, G'rannat, and S'len, were shifting from one foot to another.

  "All present and accounted for, so let's see what Aivas wants with such an ill-assorted crew," F'lar said, nodding at Lessa to lead the way. As he strode forward, he tossed a reassuring smile over his shoulder at Jaxom and the others.

  When Aivas had asked for this predawn meeting two days earlier, his special students had been excited by the prospect that he intended to launch the plan. They had been careful to contain that excitement to prevent even more rumor circulating. Not even Piemur had been brash enough to ask Aivas for confirmation.

  Certainly all these young folk had studied diligently over the past two Turns, even if their lessons and drills seemed to be irrelevant or endlessly repetitious until, as Jaxom had remarked to Piemur, he could do them in his sleep.

  "That may be what Aivas wants," Piemur had said with a shrug. "They make about as much sense as the drills he gives me for Farli."

  Jaxom saw him stroking Farli's back as they marched down the hall and into Aivas's room. The lights brightened, and Piemur grinned to himself: Master Morilton's "light bulbs" worked just as the original ones had. Yet another minor triumph for the Masterglass-smith, working from plans of the "Abomination." The thought of that epithet caused Jaxom to frown-Master Norist was not the only one who had come to refer to Aivas in that manner. Of course, if today was truly the beginning of the assault on Thread, that tune could easily change before there was more cause to worry about the growing number of dissidents.

  "Good morning," Aivas said at his most polite and noncommittal. "If you will seat yourselves, I shall explain today's project." He waited until they had taken their places and their excited murmurs had dwindled into respectful silence.

  Then the screen displayed a clear picture of the view with which they had all become familiar: the bridge of the Yokohama. Only this time there was an addition: a space-suited figure slumped over one of the control panels. There was an almost simultaneous intake of breath at the realization that the body was that of Sallah Telgar, who had died so valiantly to save the colony. This, then, was the actual bridge of the Yokohama-not the image that Aivas had supplied during their training. Then the focus of the picture slid across the consoles beyond the figure to rest on the board marked LIFE-SUPPORT SYSTEM.

  Jaxom saw Piemur reach up to stroke Farli, whose gaze was fixed on the screen. She gave a little chirp, for she, too, recognized the board. She had been working for a month on a mockup, pushing at two toggles and depressing three keys in a certain sequence. She could now perform those movements in less than thirty seconds.

  Over the past two Turns, Aivas had subtly collected many facts about both fire-lizards and dragons. The most relevant fact was that both creatures were able to maintain the oxygen levels in their systems for almost ten minutes without suffering undue discomfort or harm. That time could be pushed to fifteen minutes, but after that amount of time, both fire-lizards and dragons would need several hours to recover from the effects of oxygen deprivation.

  One of the exercises with fire-lizards and dragons in which there had been no success had been getting them to take an object from one place and bring it to another. Telekinesis, Aivas had called it, but the concept-patiently explained-confused the dragons as thoroughly as it did the fire-lizards. They would go between to get the required object, but they could not bring it without physically collecting it. Aivas had explained that if the dragons and fire-lizards could transport themselves telekinetically, it logically followed that they ought to be able to use their abilities to lift distant items to them.

  "Today, Piemur, you are asked to send Farli to the Yokohama to manipulate the switches as she had been taught to do. There is no oxygen at present on the bridge, and it is essential that the life-support system be activated before we can take the next step. Another of the toggles will transmit a report on the general condition of the Yokohama.

  "Oh!" Piemur murmured very softly, then sighed gustily. He stroked Farli, who chirped again, her unblinking eyes still on the screen. "Somehow I thought that's what you'd say."

  "She has been an excellent pupil, Piemur. There should be no problem, as she is well accustomed to obeying you."

  Piemur took a deep breath. "All right, Farli," he said. He unwrapped her tail from his neck and held up his arm in the position that indicated she was to take a message.

  Carefully walking along his bare arm with her talons sheathed, Farli reached his forearm and turned about to face him, her eyes whirling alertly.
<
br />   "Now-" Piemur held up his right hand. "This is going to be slightly different, Farli. I want you to go up in the sky, to the place you see in my mind." He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts tightly on the scene of the bridge and the particular console she was to activate.

  Farli chirruped queryingly, looked over her shoulder at the picture on the screen, and burbled once, reclosing her wings on her back.

  "No, Farli, not into the screen. Get the 'where' from my mind." Piemur closed his eyes again, concentrating on the exact place he wanted her to go, emphasizing the life-support console next to the slumped corpse. When she chirruped again, this time almost impatiently, he sighed and turned to the others in defeat.

  "She just doesn't understand," he said, trying not to let his disappointment color his voice. Not that he blamed her. She had been to most of the places he sent her. How could he get across the difference between traveling around the planet and going into space above it? Especially as he could not quite grasp the concept himself.

  Farli emphasized this by flitting from his arm to the room in which she had been trained, moments later coming back and trying to fly into the picture on the screen.

  Piemur's grin was weak. "What do you bet she's gone and done her exercises again? That much she understands!"

  Disappointment was palpable in the room. Piemur kept his eyes straight ahead, on the tantalizingly unreachable view on the screen.

  "So?" F'lar asked. "What do we do now, Aivas?"

  There was a long pause before Aivas spoke. "The mind of the fire-lizard does not function in recorded animal behavioral patterns."

  "That's not surprising. Your records only cover Terran types," Piemur remarked, trying not to feel so depressed about his little queen's failure. She was the best of the whole fair, better even than Menolly's Beauty, who was certainly very well trained. But he had hoped that she would be able to make this strange variation of flight. "It's also a long way to ask her to go when no one's been there before."