The Skies of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  Yes, was Ramoth’s smug reply.

  “If we hadn’t had the Yoko’s telemetry reporting the Fireball as early as it did,” Wansor went on, “or the unusual capabilities and devotion of the dragonriders, there would have been a complete catastrophe instead of a mere disaster.”

  “Mere?” T’gellan burst out, half rising from the table; his outrage reflected in the stunned expressions on the faces of both Talina and Mirrim.

  “I am so sorry, dear boy,” Wansor said, twiddling his fingers in distress, blinking his clouded eyes. Lessa knew that if Wansor had actually seen how Monaco’s land had suffered, he’d have been more tactful. His next words tried to correct the damage. “I don’t mean to imply that the incredible damage Monaco sustained was ‘mere,’ just that it wasn’t as bad as it could have been had the Fireball landed without any warning. Everyone tells me how magnificently you have repaired almost all the damage.”

  “As much as we can until the land itself recovers,” T’gellan murmured, reseating himself but still palpably upset.

  “How will this sky watch help?” F’lar asked, trying to get back to the subject.

  D’ram cleared his throat. “In the first instance, it will allay the Council’s doubts to know that, since dragonriders are unaccountably responsible for anything in the sky, we are very much aware of our responsibilities, and the scopes are essential to identifying what’s up there. In the second instance,” and he paused, regarding those at the table with an oddly self-righteous smile on his lips, “if we make sky-watching our craft when this Pass is over, we will have a profession that is peculiarly suited to dragonriders.”

  There was a rather stunned silence as the various Weyrleaders assimilated that suggestion.

  Beside D’ram, Lytol was also broadly smiling and Lessa thought that that must be the first real smile she’d seen on his face in Turns. The Oldtimer pursued the matter.

  “By forming our own Craft, we will be able to significantly reduce the tension among holders and crafters who fear we wish to dominate their traditional crafts.”

  “Well, well, sky-watching wouldn’t take all of us,” G’dened began, fuming with indignation.

  F’lessan laughed out loud. “And a good many more, G’dened, if we’re to make a proper job of it.” His eyes sparkled. “In fact, Honshu already has images of the asteroid belt from its initial search patterns.”

  “Search patterns?” G’dened asked, scowling.

  With a glance at Erragon, F’lessan went on, “We know which stars are constant in our skies. What we search for is something moving between those stars and us! Look!” He flipped several prints to the table. “See this one?”

  “I see a streak on black and a blur,” G’dened replied, dismissing the image.

  “We’ve identified the streak as an asteroid. We’re calling it Aliana.” He ducked his head and gave the almost cheeky smile he had used as a small boy when he was hiding deeper feelings. “Tai thought we should give them names, instead of numbers, and I thought that perhaps we’d name it after one of the first dragonriders. We’ve got a lot of those.”

  “Which, asteroids or dragonriders?” Lessa asked, smiling to show that she liked the idea. She could see that both Wansor and Erragon obviously approved.

  “Both.”

  “How’d you know it’s an asteroid?” G’dened demanded impatiently, his scowl deepening.

  “F’lessan cross-checked it with Cove Hold and Yoko,” Erragon said.

  “This blur, as you call it, is a star named Acrux. Acrux is fixed … at least in a forty-minute exposure … while the asteroid is moving fast enough to create the blur. By considering its position in the sky, we know that it is in the asteroid belt. By getting to know our night skies and taking images—” F’lessan tapped the print.—“we will find ones that might be moving dangerously close to Pern.”

  “One just did!” G’dened objected, feeling insulted, and pushed the print away.

  F’lessan laughed. “We’ve had more than one near miss.”

  “Oh, not that Runner site again!” And the Istan Weyrleader swiped his hand in dismissal.

  “If I may,” Tai said in such a firm voice that everyone regarded her in surprise, “the Fireball was the first really hazardous impact noted in the Yoko’s records as far back as it kept them.”

  “Quite right, Tai. And, until the last ten minutes of its descent,” Erragon said, “we weren’t even certain that it would impact on Pern. And it is by no means the only one in a possibly hazardous orbit.”

  That was news to the inland Weyrleaders; G’dened’s scowl deepened.

  Lessa wondered if they oughtn’t to have asked M’rand to come to this meeting. Usually he had balanced G’dened’s pessimistic, biased attitudes.

  “We have now had a chance to thoroughly examine the Yoko’s records,” Lord Lytol said, his expression doleful, “and the Fireball was a visible light against the asteroid belt as far back as Turn’s End.”

  “When we were occupied with other matters entirely,” G’dened said wearily.

  Lytol gave him a repressive glare and continued. “The Yoko has traced its inclination and now suggests that it was probably even then a possibly hazardous object, not merely one near Pern.”

  “What’s the difference, Lytol?” Lessa asked.

  “Oh, between 100,000 and 400,000 kilometers, Lady Lessa,” Lytol said with a sad smile. “If Pern had been farther on its rotation around Rukbat, the cometary fragment would have passed us by.”

  “The point is, Lady Lessa,” Wansor said, leaning toward her earnestly, “that if we had had a sky watch then, we would have known to track it more carefully.”

  “What more could we have done about it if we had known?” T’gellan asked wearily.

  A depressed silence followed that heartfelt query.

  “The situation for dragonriders was once much worse than this,” F’lar said in a quiet but firm voice, “when Benden had only a handful of riders to fight Thread, and you,” he gestured to D’ram, G’dened, and G’narish, “came forward in time to support us. Now we have access to the Ancients’ exhaustive records and, if I remember Aivas’s lectures at the time, he told us that old Earth had its own share of problems in near space. Erragon, how did the Ancients handle that problem?”

  Erragon gave a dry chuckle. “They watched through very powerful telescopes augmented by a dedicated group of men and women using lesser instruments. Aivas states that they had mapped the position of stars in their part of the galaxy—and objects in the Earth’s system—with an accuracy measured by microarcseconds. Far beyond the abilities of the telescopes we have, of course. But we need only concern ourselves about Rukbat.”

  “Yes, yes,” G’dened interrupted, leaning eagerly in his direction, “but what did they do to things that came too close to Earth?”

  “They took—I quote—‘action when required to divert a possibly hazardous object.’ ”

  “With what? How?” demanded G’dened.

  “That,” Erragon said ironically, “they didn’t say.”

  “But they must have done something!” There was a quaver of fear in G’dened’s tone.

  “They did have a sky watch,” F’lessan said so firmly that he caught everyone’s attention. “We can be accurate enough and, as Erragon says, we should learn what should be in our skies and track any newcomers.”

  “The astronomy files I’ve been studying clearly state that such destructive impacts are rare,” Lytol added.

  “Then why do we have to go through all this rigmarole of watching?” G’dened asked, more impatient than ever.

  “In the first place, because it will prove to the Council that we are doing something,” F’lar said. “In the second place, we would know if Pern would be in danger. Since the Weyrs were able to prevent much loss of life and property to reduce the damage done by the Fireball, we can certainly repeat that effort. May I earnestly recommend that we seriously consider D’ram’s second suggestion—that dragonriders wo
uld make excellent sky-watchers? Especially those riders who haven’t yet found a suitable alternative.”

  Sky-watching, Lessa thought sternly, ought to be congenial to the less flexible bronze and brown riders. Blue and green riders were not so prone to stand on dignity and tradition.

  “F’lar,” and G’narish rose to his feet so suddenly that F’lar motioned for him to go ahead, “there’ve been rumors in Igen that the Fireball was the result of diverting the Red Star!”

  “Shards, I hope you stifled such idiocy,” F’lar said, disgusted.

  “By Aivas, there is absolutely no possibility of that, G’narish,” Lytol replied in vigorous protest. “I have made an exhaustive study of the physics and mathematics of that remarkable effort. Aivas was a superb astrophysicist. He was especially thorough in the matter of possible perturbations and every single equation of effect was faultlessly accurate. Waiting until the planet was far enough from Pern to assure that displacements would be negligible was one of the main reasons we had to delay the blasts, to achieve the maximum effect.”

  Abruptly Jaxom started to choke, a reflex that had him sputtering until Sharra thumped him on the back and the spasm subsided.

  “Another reason being that we had to learn many new techniques to do so,” D’ram said, his tone slightly acerbic.

  “But if Aivas knew where everything else around us was,” G’dened began in his rambling way, “then why don’t we just use his records and not have to bother with this sky watch … rigmarole.”

  “Because,” F’lessan began urgently before anyone else, “comets keep coming through, from the Oort cloud or beyond, because meteors and asteroids collide and fragments—possibly one like our Fireball—can spread in all directions, and we need to know where they are and where they’re going! It doesn’t matter that we haven’t figured out how to stop them, but we certainly can learn how to spot them!”

  Jaxom, N’ton, and D’ram cheered and clapped their hands, Wansor positively beamed, Erragon looked immensely relieved, and even Lytol managed another smile.

  “I think that should clarify the issue, G’dened,” F’lar said, raising his hands for silence.

  “It’s certainly the plan we should present to the Council,” D’ram said. “Put some heart into us, too, F’lessan! Do you happen to have any more prints like the one you showed G’dened? Perhaps a little clearer.”

  “We do,” and he included Tai in his gesture, “so does Erragon from both Cove Hold and Stinar’s link with the Yoko.” Taking the prints in his hand, F’lessan glanced at each one before he began dealing them out to the Weyrleaders. “These are some that Tai has taken of what lies beyond our system.” He shot a glance at Erragon. “She figured out how to do this ‘unsharp masking’ from her watches at Cove Hold. The technique reduces the intensity of the bright parts,” he leaned over to tap the one in front of T’gellan, “and brings out sharp detail. That’s a nebulosity—looks like a blob but there are stars imbedded in it. See? Those blurs are actually stars.”

  “Can stars be pink like that?” T’gellan asked, amazed and intrigued, holding the print up so that Mirrim and Talina could see it.

  F’lessan chuckled. “Or blue, lavender, and white.” He held up another for all to see. “We took this when we got the monitor up on the Honshu scope. This cartwheel is a galaxy far, far away. Actually, our sky is rather dark, apart from what Aivas called the Milky Way and the Magellanic Clouds.”

  “And these spirals?” asked Lessa, peering at the one in front of her. “There’re so many.” She was awed.

  “Are these clusters all stars?” F’lar asked Tai, showing her the print he had picked up from the table.

  “Global clusters,” she replied.

  “Good work,” Erragon said, nodding approval. “You’ve made notes of time and position?”

  “Of course, though these were random shots because I was actually experimenting with the filters Honshu has, trying to see more detail,” Tai replied.

  “And everyone can see these?” Mirrim regarded Tai with obvious respect. “You star-gaze for a reason?”

  “That’s part of it,” Tai said, her dusky skin flushed with both pleasure and embarrassment.

  “Just think what we could see and understand about the cosmos,” F’lessan said, his eyes bright with such a visionary gleam that Lessa regarded the bronze rider with admiration, “if we had more observatories and people trained to watch.”

  G’dened grunted, unimpressed, flicking his fingers at the beautiful starscapes, and glared at F’lessan. “You said those were far, far away. Isn’t it the nearby stuff you’re supposed to be watching?”

  “Oh, we do more of that.” F’lessan splayed out another set of prints in front of the Oldtimer.

  G’dened recoiled suspiciously. “Looks like a bug-eaten tuber.” He picked up one, studied it briefly before discarding it contemptuously. “More holes than reef rock.”

  “Ah,” and F’lessan waggled a finger at him. “Those asteroids are not far enough away. What looks bug-eaten is where other flying bits have made craters in the surface. Or where gases that were once in the asteroid blew out.” Then F’lessan added, “The first one is ten kilometers long and the holey one is fifty. It’s big enough to blow Pern apart.”

  G’dened swallowed, slowly turning his eyes to Erragon who nodded solemn affirmation.

  “That’s the whole point of tonight’s meeting,” Wansor said, “to establish a sky watch and train those who will keep their eyes on asteroids like that.”

  “There’re only four scopes in the Catherine Caves,” Lessa said, and wondered if they would be enough.

  “Which,” and F’lessan jumped to his feet, “makes me wonder if perhaps the Ancients hadn’t planned to set up a sky watch of their own before Thread changed all their options.”

  “That has often occurred to me,” Wansor said, nodding his round head thoughtfully. “And why there is no northern array. Though, of course, the Ancients had settled on the southern continent so they wouldn’t have needed a northern array for many Turns.”

  “A northern array would have warned us of that storm,” G’dened remarked sourly.

  “Will four more scopes be sufficient?” K’van asked.

  “It doesn’t even take a large scope for night-watching, K’van,” Erragon replied reassuringly. “Master Jancis has been making binoculars that many,” and he turned to Jaxom, who nodded, “have been utilizing.”

  “All watch-riders use them and all of us have done our watches on Weyr Rims,” N’ton added, glancing around for confirmation from the other Weyrleaders. “I think I can still name all the bright stars.”

  “Sadly, it’s not the bright ones we have to watch, N’ton,” Wansor said, “but they are important to recognize, to give the positions of the ones we must chart and register.”

  “It’s also a very big sky, F’lessan,” K’van remarked.

  “Which is why it is such a very good idea for more dragonriders to learn how to watch it,” F’lessan said, giving K’van the Southern Weyrleader, a challenge. “You’ve an admirable situation down there on the heights in your new Weyr.”

  “It’s the sort of thing you young riders should do,” G’dened said emphatically. Then he realized what he’d said. “You may be sure I’ll encourage my riders.”

  “Before I Impressed Talmanth,” Palla said, raising her hand, “I studied astronomy.”

  “Why, so you did,” J’fery said, regarding his Weyrmate with surprise.

  “An apprentice I was sorry to lose and would be delighted to encourage,” Erragon said, nodding acceptance of her shy offer.

  Aware that everyone was looking at her, she ducked her head and stared at her clasped hands. Lessa noticed that J’fery bent to say something in her ear and she gave him a quick smile, relaxing her hands.

  “That sounds like it will take a lot of time,” G’dened said, not sure he approved of such activity.

  “Oh, it will,” Erragon had to agree. “With your assista
nce, we will have a splendid register to present the Council. Already we have Master Idarolan quite willing to move anywhere he can be of assistance, in teaching or watching. He reminds me that most Fishmen use the stars to navigate and he isn’t the only one who’s retired.”

  “Which brings us back to making this sky watch efficient. What do you mean, Master Wansor, by twenty-four-hour coverage and another telescope?” F’lar asked.

  “About time,” F’lessan said forcefully.

  “We have Cove Hold, we have Honshu,” Erragon replied, “we need to site at least one of the Catherine Cave telescopes in the north as soon as possible.” Erragon coughed. “For a proper twenty-four-hour coverage, we should consider setting up the first observatory on the Western Continent.”

  “There’s nothing there,” Lessa exclaimed.

  “There are still stars above it,” F’lessan reminded her, then hastily added, “We can worry about how to improve the place later.”

  “An observatory on the Western Continent must be established as soon as possible,” Erragon said firmly, prepared to argue that point.

  “To allow us to confirm sightings with as much accuracy as possible, we must have one there, despite its distance from any other major population center,” Wansor said, bringing one hand down flat on the table. The noise startled everyone. Master Wansor was the mildest of men and his sudden insistence surprised G’dened and G’narish. “We must have one there or the sky watch can fail. Master Idarolan is of the firm opinion that a small settlement is feasible. He even suggests a sheltered harbor between the two halves of the western Continent and knows where clear water is available. Even some trees.”