All The Weyrs of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  He dressed, putting on light clothing under his riding gear in anticipation of the warmer weather in Honshu. He was pleased that, sleepy as he was, he could remember such details. But he did not, as he frequently did, check the riding harness that he always left openly on the peg in Ruth's weyr. With the deftness of long practice, he rigged his covert gear on Ruth and, throwing open the wide doors to the weyr, followed the white dragon out to the courtyard to mount. The watchdragon, the watch-whey, and some of the Hold's resident fire-lizards silently observed their departure, bright eyes gleaming blue or green spheres in the night.

  What a time to send for folk, Jaxom thought as Ruth leaped skyward.

  What time is it in Honshu? Ruth asked.

  "Sunup, probably!" Jaxom replied testily, envisioning the facade of Honshu Hold that F'lessan had vividly described to him.

  Between, Jaxom shivered despite his fur-lined riding jacket. Two breaths later they were hovering above a sea of mist, with dawn just breaking. Around them were other dragons, clinging to pinnacles that rose above the obscuring vapor. Ruth descended to the nearest vacant spire and nodded greetings to the other dragons.

  "And where is Honshu?" Jaxom asked.

  Ramoth says it's obscured in the river fog to our right. I knew where I was going. It just isn't visible yet, Ruth replied. Today begins beautifully, doesn't it? he added unexpectedly, gazing eastward, where the sky was a lighter blue.

  Grudgingly, Jaxom agreed as he contemplated the view. To his left, both moons were visible, half full, hanging in a sky of an unusual clear and cloudless blue as night retreated westward-where he should still be in his bed, he thought ruefully. He suppressed the urge to lean forward in his saddle, rest his head on Ruth's neck, and go back to sleep until the mist cleared. But the longer he looked on a day so beautifully beginning-he hadn't known that Ruth could be so lyrical-he found it increasingly difficult to look away.

  More dragons arrived, hovering in surprise to discover their landing site so totally obscured and eventually settling wherever they could.

  Golanth apologizes, Ruth informed Jaxom. The mist rolled up from the river just as day broke. He says that once the sun is up this will clear away. He says he will go stand near the place where the roof collapsed. The white dragon turned his head in the appropriate direction, and Jaxom spotted Golanth's bronze shape rising out of the mist to settle on a still invisible surface. Golanth says that there is hot klah and porridge waiting and so few of us have seen Honshu that we have a nice surprise coming. He says there is very good hunting in the valley-when it's visible.

  Ruth's, qualifier touched Jaxom's sense of humor, and he chuckled himself out of irritability just as the sun rose, shooting bright, hot rays across the mist. Then a breeze picked up energy and very shortly the mist cleared away, revealing at last Honshu's cliff face and Golanth, perched on the heights.

  Golanth says for us to land you on the upper level by the hold's main door. There should be enough room for all. More of the roof might collapse, and on the lower level, the beasthold hasn't been completely cleaned out yet. F'lessan doesn't want anyone entering that way.

  Almost as one, the waiting dragons lofted themselves. Perhaps it was the downdraft of great wings wafting away the last tendrils of mist, but by the time the dragons were ready to land, the vapor had cleared right up to the second tier of window slits.

  F'lessan and the other weyrfolk who were making Honshu livable were waiting in the wide doorway, cheering the arrivals.

  "Thanks for coming so promptly," F'lessan said, grinning broadly. "I don't think you'll be disappointed. Sorry to get you out of your bed, Jaxom, because I know you had a long day, but you'd hate me to leave you out of this." The young bronze rider threw a companionable arm about Jaxom's shoulders, his expression so uncharacteristically anxious that Jaxom felt obliged to reassure him.

  "It's thoughtful of you to have food and klah laid on, F'lessan," Lessa said as she crossed the entrance hall, "but I'd rather see your discovery first."

  F'lessan pointed to plastic sacks on the long table in the main room. "You can see the secret room, too, if you don't mind a long climb up winding stairs."

  Everyone but Jaxom hurried to the table. He stood on the threshold, staring up at the amazing murals, their colors as brilliant as the day they had been first applied. Vaguely he recalled Lytol and Robinton talking about the decorations at Honshu, but he had not expected anything nearly so magnificent.

  "Rather spectacular, isn't it?" F'lessan asked, turning back to his old friend. He spent a long moment admiring it, too. "The place is not really big enough for a Weyr, though Golanth says that there're plenty of good ledges to lie on. And good eating."

  "Southern Weyr had less than this originally," Jaxom reminded him.

  "True. But it's arranged as a hold. I just don't want anyone lording it in here," F'lessan said with unexpected fervor. "People know they can come and go freely in a Weyr. C'mon, you'll want to see the stuff I found. And now that I've got you here at last, you're going to see the whole place. It is remarkably well preserved and full of the most fascinating tools and equipment. All the smiths are drooling over them."

  "I've had the complete inventory from Jancis," Jaxom said with a wry grin.

  F'lessan's find was most unusual: liquid carefully stored in plastic bags. Each had been tied shut around the neck by rigid strips that ended in wide tabs, which were inscribed with strokes in odd patterns, the like of which neither Robinton nor Lytol had seen in all of Aivas's records.

  "I opened one," F'lessan said, pointing to the sack sitting in the bowl, its mouth carefully peeled back so that its contents were accessible. "I thought at first it had to be water, but it's not. It's got an odd sheen to it, and anyway, water would long since have evaporated, I think. It smells funny. I didn't taste it."

  Lytol and Fandarel nearly bumped heads as both leaned over to sniff the liquid. Fandarel dipped in a finger and smelled it, grimacing.

  "Definitely not drinkable."

  "We should take this sack to Aivas for examination," Lytol said. "Is this all there were?"

  "No," F'lessan replied blithely. "Thirty-four more, plus the six here. They don't all contain the same amount of whatever it is. There were a few empty sacks in the attic so some leakage occurred. Or maybe tunnel snakes chewed their way through. They'll eat anything."

  "You said something about a stairway?" Lessa asked.

  "Well, the steps weren't completely cut. Just a toehold up the final curve. We didn't bother to explore that level-until Benmeth crashed through."

  "You didn't say whether she hurt herself or not," Lessa said almost accusingly.

  F'lessan grinned, rarely affected by his mother's moods. "Scraped her right hind leg, but J'lono's slathered numbweed all over her. She's down in the workroom."

  "Show me where the stairs are, F'lessan," F'lar said, and when the young bronze rider had indicated the doorway, the Benden Weyrleader led the way, followed closely by Fandarel, Lytol, K'van, and T'gellan.

  "Oh, no, you don't," Lessa said, grabbing Robinton by the arm. "Free-fall's all right but stairs are not, Robinton. And you won't have eaten yet if I know you."

  Not fancying a long hike, Jaxom added his persuasions to Lessa's, and F'lessan insisted that Robinton would insult the weyrfolk if he didn't sit down right that moment and enjoy Honshu's hospitality.

  "It is fuel," Aivas said, and Robinton could have sworn he heard jubilation in his voice. "Fuel!"

  "Yes, but is it any good after so many centuries?" Fandarel asked.

  Jaxom had a brilliant vision of the three shuttles lifting off the ship meadow, but cancelled it almost immediately as a total impossibility. Those ships would never fly again. Pern hadn't the technology necessary to repair them properly.

  "The fuel does not deteriorate with age, nor does the sample you brought appear to have suffered any contamination. Since this discovery is in Honshu, Kenjo Fusaiyuki's Stakehold, it is logical to assume that this is part of the fuel h
e had diverted for his personal use. Mention was made of this cache in Captain C. Keroon's records; a search for the fuel cache was conducted at Honshu, but it was never found."

  "But the sled was so well preserved, couldn't we-" Fandarel began excitedly.

  "The sled used power packs, not fuel. The forty sacks that have been recovered will be put to excellent use," Aivas said.

  "Where? Why? In what?" Jaxom demanded. "I thought you said the Yokohama used matter/antimatter engines."

  "For interstellar travel only," Aivas explained. "This fuel was used for propulsion in-system."

  "The shuttles in the field?", Piemur asked, his face flushed with anticipation. And Jaxom realized that he was not the only one who had had dazzling visions.

  "Even were you technologically more advanced, they have deteriorated past repair," Aivas said. "This unexpected dividend will be put to very good use when the alternatives have been thoroughly reviewed."

  Jaxom and Piemur exchanged expressions of disgust.

  "Let me guess, Aivas," Jaxom said. "We could put all the fuel in the Yokohama's tanks, or split it up between all three ships. There'd be enough to give us half-grav, some maneuverability-that is, if we wanted to go anywhere in those ships..." He finished on a querying note.

  "There is insufficient fuel to reach the Oort Cloud," Aivas said. "Or to follow the direction of the Thread stream and use the destruct capability of the shields to reduce the density of the ovoids."

  Trying not to let his frustration show, Jaxom made himself grin at Piemur. "Well, he thought of one course that I didn't."

  "Who are we to outguess Aivas?" Piemur asked, but Jaxom noted the suppressed anger in the harper's eyes.

  "One of these days..." Jaxom said just loud enough for Piemur to hear, and Piemur nodded.

  "But, Aivas, since there is this sample," Fandarel said urgently, "can you not analyze its composition so that we can duplicate it? Surely we can make enough fuel to take at least one ship to the Oort Cloud."

  "For what reason?"

  "Why, to blow up the Oort Cloud! Destroy the Thread organism that is generated there!"

  Another of Aivas's curious silences ensued, and then suddenly the Rukbat system came up on the screen, the sun dwarfing its satellites. Abruptly the picture altered, the brilliant sun diminishing to a pinpoint of light, the planets reducing out of visibility on the new scale, and the swirling nebulosity of the Oort Cloud appearing to flow across the screen, blotting out even the distant Rukbat. As in so many previous demonstrations, a red line began to describe the orbit of the Red Star, moving through the Oort Cloud and back into the system, swinging around the primary, inside Pern's conventional path.

  "Aivas certainly knows how to cut us down to size," Piemur murmured.

  "Oh!" Fandarel said, resigned. "It is indeed difficult to appreciate the massive scale of the Cloud and the insignificance of our tiny world."

  "So what do we destroy to be rid of Thread?" F'lar asked.

  "The best way to reduce the threat of Thread is to alter the orbit of the eccentric planet that brings it into Pern's system."

  "And when will you tell us how we accomplish that?"

  "The research and technology required will shortly be completed."

  "Then finding the fuel makes no difference?" F'lessan slumped in disappointment, his usually merry expression glum.

  "It may make a difference in another area, F'lessan. It is always good to have alternatives. You have all done exceedingly well." That, from Aivas, was praise indeed. "Do not succumb to apathy."

  "What should I do with all these fuel sacks then?" F'lessan asked dispiritedly.

  "They should be transferred to a safe storage facility in Landing.

  "I shouldn't put them into anything else? Those sacks are old."

  "If they have lasted 2,528 years, they will suffice for another." A chart appeared on the screen. "Now, here is the schedule for bronze and brown dragons to jump to the cargo bays of all three ships. The latest readings indicate sufficient oxygen levels to allow every dragon and rider some experience in free-fall."

  "Why?" F'lar asked.

  "It is essential for the success of the Plan that all the dragons of Pern learn to handle weightlessness."

  The schedules were forwarded to the Weyrleaders of all eight Weyrs, and there was a good deal of jubilation from all but a few-and those were mainly riders of elderly dragons for whom even hunting was becoming difficult. The weyrlings were ecstatic, and Weyrlingmasters hard put to maintain discipline.

  Each group was sent up with someone experienced in free-fall; even Jancis, Piemur, and Sharra were sent as monitors.

  There were often full fairs of fire-lizards tagging along, and though that occasioned complaints, Aivas approved of their interest. A new enthusiasm swept through all the Weyrs, overcoming the mid-Pass apathy.

  Three days later, fires were set among the fuel sacks, but firelizards gave the alarm so no harm was done. On hearing of the near disaster, Aivas was unperturbed and, in an offhanded tone, informed the agitated Lytol and D'ram that the fuel was nonflammable. The relief was palpable, but when Fandarel heard, he immediately wanted to know exactly how such fuel provided the desired effect. Aivas responded with a lecture on the intricacies of seven kinds of jet engines, from the simple reaction engines they had learned about, which made little sense even to Master Fandarel, to more complex multistage affairs.

  That evening Master Morilton dispatched his fire-lizard with an urgent and horrified message that someone had destroyed all the lenses his Hall had ready to be installed in microscopes and telescopes, ruining months of hard and patient work. Later the next morning Master Fandarel found that the metal barrels he had been producing to house the lenses had been thrown into the forge fire and distempered overnight.

  It was as well that the orientation program for dragons was going so well, or morale would have hit a new low. Then Oldive and Sharra at last were successful in penetrating the shell of the Thread egg with a black diamond cutter.

  "I'm not much wiser," Sharra told Jaxom when she returned home that evening. "It's a complex organism, and it's going to take us time to analyze it. We have to work so slowly. I think that may be why Aivas taught us how to culture bacteria. Good training for this investigation."

  "What did it look like-inside, I mean?"

  "The most astonishing mess," she said, frowning in perplexity. Then she gave a disparaging chuckle. "I don't know what I thought it'd look like. In fact, I never thought about it at all. But the ovoid is coated in layers of dirty, rock-hard ice, with all kinds of pebbles and grains and-and junk mixed up. It's sort of whitish, yellow, black, gray... Is the yellow helium? Were you there for those lectures on liquefying gas? No, that was Piemur and Jancis.

  "At any rate, there are rings that wrap round and round. You can separate the rings from the other material. There are tubes, and patches of bubbling stuff. Aivas said it was a very disorganized life-form."

  Jaxom laughed in surprise. "It certainly disorganizes us!"

  "Silly! He doesn't mean it that way. But we couldn't do much today because we don't have the proper tools to work in three degree absolute temperatures." She grinned in reminiscence. "The tools we brought sort of went brittle and disintegrated in the cold."

  "Metal? Turned brittle?"

  "Good Smithcraft steel, too. Aivas says we have to use special glass."

  "Glass, huh." Jaxom thought of all the time Aivas had spent with Master Morilton and grinned. "So that was why. But how could Aivas have known then that we'd capture Thread when he didn't even know we could?"

  "I'm not sure I followed all of that, Jaxom."

  "I'm not sure I did, too, lovey. I wonder who's getting the bigger surprises? Aivas, or us?"

  The next morning, Sharra asked Jaxom if he would mind letting Ruth convey her to Master Oldive to confer on who else they would need to assist them in their study. Ruth was always glad to oblige Sharra, so Jaxom was free to remain behind in Ruatha to preside wit
h Brand over a long-delayed Hold disciplinary meeting.

  He was just taking his seat in the Great Hall when he caught a glimpse of Ruth departing with Sharra on his back. He bounced back to his feet in alarm.

  The harness, Ruth! Which harness did Sharra use?

  At the same moment that Ruth replied, She's safe, her two fire-lizards screamed so loudly that Lamoth, the elderly bronze on Ruatha's heights, bugled a warning. As Jaxom watched paralyzed by shock, he saw Ruth slowly descending, Sharra clutching him tightly about the neck; Meer and Talla hooked their talons in the shoulders of her riding jacket. The main riding strap dangled loosely between Ruth's legs.

  Trembling in fear for what might have been, Jaxom forgot dignity and duty as he tore out of the Great Hall. In his wish not to worry her with an incident he had almost forgotten, he had nearly cost her her life. As Ruth delicately landed in front of him, his hands were still shaking as he helped Sharra down from her precarious perch and embraced her tightly.

  I should have asked which harness she had with her, Ruth said, his tone remorseful, his hide tinged gray with anxiety. I could have told her where you hide the harness you're using now.

  "It's no fault of yours, Ruth. You're all right, Sharra? You didn't hurt yourself? When I saw you hanging-" His voice broke and he buried his face in her neck, aware that she was trembling nearly as much as he.

  Sharra was quite willing to be comforted, but soon enough she became aware of the audience and, with a weak, embarrassed laugh, struggled to be free. He eased his hold but did not let her go. If she had not been such a skilled rider... if Ruth hadn't been such a clever dragon...

  "I thought you'd mended that harness," she said, anxiously looking into his eyes.

  "I had!" He couldn't tell her the truth, not with so many within earshot, and despite the bond between them, she did not apparently realize he was not being entirely candid.