Had there perhaps been stables for beasts and wherries built at some distance from the settlement? Considering the scale on which the ancients operated, such a stable would have been large enough to shelter hundreds from the burning rain of a volcano!
He asked Ruth to glide toward the sea, in the general direction of the panic-driven ancients. Once past grassland, shrubs began to hold root in the ashen soil, giving way to larger trees and thicker vegetation. They’d be lucky if they could spot anything unusual in that thick green mass. He was just about to ask Ruth to turn back and fly another swath when he noticed a break in the jungle. They glided out over a long scar of grassland, several dragonlengths wide and several hundred long. Trees and bushes were sparse on either side, as if struggling to find soil for their roots. Ribbons of water glinted at the far end of the curious scar, like shallow interconnected pools.
Just then the sun rose above the rim of the Plateau, and turning his head to the left to escape that brilliance, Jaxom saw the three shadows lengthening across the top end of the grassy scar. Excitedly, he urged Ruth to the spot, circling until he was certain that these hills couldn’t be hills and certainly were unlike the shape of the ancients’ other buildings. For one thing, their placement was as unnatural as their shape. One was seven dragon-lengths or more in advance of the other two, and there’d be ten or more dragonlengths between them.
He had Ruth fly past and noticed the curious conformation: a larger mass was discernible at one end, while the other tapered slightly downward, a difference visible despite grass, earth and the small bushes that covered these so-called hills.
As excited as he was, Ruth came to rest between the leading two. The hills were not as obviously unnatural on the ground but they would have appeared odd even to someone arriving on foot.
No sooner had he asked Ruth to land than fire-lizards erupted about them, chittering with wild excitement and unbelievable pleasure.
“What are they saying, Ruth? Let’s try to keep them calm enough to make sense. Do they have any images about these hills?”
Too many. Ruth raised his head, crooning softly to the fire-lizards. They were dipping and darting about so erratically that Jaxom gave up trying to see if any were banded. They are happy. They are glad you are come back. It has been so long.
“When was I first here?” Jaxom asked Ruth, having learned not to confuse the fire-lizards with generations. “Can they remember?”
When you came out of the sky in long gray things? Ruth sounded bewildered even as he relayed the answer. Jaxom leaned against Ruth, scarcely crediting the reply. “Show me!”
Brilliant and conflicting images stunned him as he saw vistas, unfocused at first, then resolving into a clear picture as Ruth sorted out the myriad impressions into one single coherent view.
The cylinders were grayish, with stubby wings that were poor imitations of the graceful pinions of the dragons. The cylinders bore rings of smaller tubes at one end while the other was blunt-nosed. Suddenly an opening appeared about a third of the way from the tubed end of the first ship. Men and women walked down a ramp. A progression of images flashed across Jaxom’s mind then, of people running about, embracing each other, jumping up and down. Then the images Ruth obtained from the chittering bugling fire-lizards dissolved into chaos—as if each separate fire-lizard had followed one person and each was trying to give Ruth his individual image rather than a group view of the landing and ensuing events.
There was no doubt in Jaxom’s mind that here was where the ancients had taken refuge from the volcano’s havoc, the ships that had brought them from the Dawn Sisters to Pern. And the ships were still here because for some reason they couldn’t go back to the trio of stars.
The opening into the vessel had been a third of the way from the tube end? With ecstatic fire-lizards doing acrobatics about his head, Jaxom paced the grass covering the cylinder until he thought he’d reached the appropriate spot.
They say that you have found it, Ruth advised him, nudging Jaxom forward. His great eyes were spinning with yellow fire.
To support their verdict, scores of fire-lizards settled on the bush-covered place and began to tug at the vegetation.
“I should go back to the Hold and tell them,” Jaxom muttered to himself.
They are asleep. Benden is asleep. We are the only ones awake in the world!
That was, Jaxom had to admit, rather likely.
I dug yesterday. I can dig today. We can dig until they wake, when they can come help us.
“You have claws. I don’t. Let’s get some of the tools from the Plateau.”
They were accompanied in both directions by excited, happy fire-lizards. With a shovel, Jaxom marked out the approximate area he wanted them to unearth to reach the door to the vessel. Then it was only a question of supervising Ruth and the sometimes obstructive assistance of the fire-lizards. They stripped the tough grass from the earth, first, the fire-lizards depositing it in the bushes beyond the scar. Fortunately the covering was firmly packed dirt blown over the landing site in the course of thousands of Turns. Even so, rain and sun had hardened a thick covering. When his shoulders began to ache, Jaxom eased his pace. He munched on a breadroll, occasionally urging squabbling fire-lizards back to work.
Ruth’s claws scrabbled on something. It isn’t rock! Jaxom jumped to the spot, slamming his shovel through the loose dirt. The edge hit a hard, unyielding surface. Jaxom let out a wild yell that set all the fire-lizards gyrating in midair.
Brushing away the last of the covering dirt with his hands, he stared at what he had unearthed. With cautious fingers, he touched the curious surface. Not metal, not the stuff on the mounds, rather like—improbable as it seemed—clouded glass. But no glass could be that hard!
“Ruth, is Canth awake yet?”
No. Menolly and Piemur are. They wonder where we are.
Jaxom crowed in triumph. “I think we’ll go tell them!” They were waiting for him and Ruth when they arrived from between in Cove Hold—the Harper, Menolly and Piemur. Over their babble of questions about his disappearance to Ruatha the night before, Jaxom tried to explain what he’d found. The Harper had to silence the babble with a huge bellow that stunned every fire-lizard into between. Having obtained silence, the Harper took a deep breath.
“Who could think or hear in such noise? Now, Menolly, get us some food! Piemur, get drawing materials. Zair, come here, my beautiful rascal. You’ve to take a message to Benden. You are to bite Mnementh’s nose if necessary to wake him. Yes, I know you’re brave enough to fight the big one. Don’t fight! Wake! High time those lazy louts at Benden were up anyway!” The Harper was in great spirits, his head high, his eyes sparkling, his gestures broad. “By Shard and Shell, Jaxom, you’ve started a dull day with a bright promise. I was laggard in bed because there was nothing to rise for but more disappointment!”
“They may be as empty . . .”
“You said the fire-lizards imaged the landing? People emerging? Those cylinders could be as empty as grudging forgiveness but they’d still be worth seeing. The actual ships which brought our ancestors from the Dawn Sisters to Pern!” The Harper expelled his breath slowly, his eyes brilliant with excitement.
“You’re not too stimulated, are you, Master Robinton?” Jaxom asked, looking about for Sharra. “Where is Sharra?” He saw Menolly and Piemur running on their errands. Surely Sharra wasn’t still asleep. He glanced among the fire-lizards for Meer and Talla.
“A dragonrider came for Sharra last evening. There’s some illness at Southern and she was urgently needed. I’ve been selfish, I suppose, keeping you all about me when the real need is over. In fact,” the Harper said, “I’m surprised to find you here and not at Ruatha still.” Robinton’s eyebrows arched as an invitation to explain.
“I should have been back in my Hold some time ago, Master Robinton,” Jaxom admitted in a contrite tone, then he shrugged at his reluctance to leave the Cove. “Furthermore, it was snowing when I got there. Lord Lytol and I had
a long talk . . .”
“There’d be no opposition to you taking Hold now,” the Harper said with a laugh, “and no more hedging and hawing about lands and you being a dragon’s rider.” The Harper’s eyes twinkled as he mimicked Lord Sangel’s pinched tones. Then his face altered and he put his hand on Jaxom’s shoulder. “How did Lytol react?”
“He wasn’t surprised,” Jaxom said, allowing his relief and wonder to color his voice. “And I’ve been thinking, sir, that if Nicat continues to excavate the Plateau buildings, someone with Lytol’s gift for organizing . . .”
“My own thinking exactly, Jaxom,” the Harper said, giving Jaxom another clout on the shoulder in his enthusiasm. “The past is a fit occupation for two old men . . .”
“Sir,” Jaxom cried in outraged tones, “you’ll never be old. Nor will Lytol!”
“Kind of you to think so, young Jaxom, but I’ve had warning. Ah, here comes a dragon—Canth, if I don’t mistake in the sun’s glare!” Robinton shielded his eyes with his hand.
The glare might also have accounted for the frown on F’nor’s face as he strode up the beach toward them. Zair had given him the most confused images, which had excited Berd, Grall and every fire-lizard in Benden Weyr to the point where Lessa had told Ramoth to banish the whole lot. In proof of which, the air above the Cove was filled with fair upon fair of fire-lizards, making a tremendous clamor.
“Ruth, settle them down,” Jaxom asked his dragon. “We’ll not be able to see or hear for fire-lizards.”
Ruth gave such a bellow he startled himself and drew an awed whirl of Canth’s eyes. The ensuing silence was broken by a frightened lone chirp. And the sky emptied of fire-lizards as they rapidly found perches on the tree-ringed beach.
They obeyed me. Ruth sounded amazed, and smug.
The display of control put F’nor in a considerably better frame of mind.
“Now, tell me what you’ve been up to so early in the morning, Jaxom?” F’nor asked, loosening his flying belt and helmet. “It’s getting so Benden can’t turn around without Ruatha’s assistance.”
Jaxom peered intently at F’nor in surprise, but the brown rider gave him such a look that Jaxom realized F’nor was being exceptionally cryptic. Could he be referring to that damned egg? Had Brekke mentioned something to him?
“Why not?” he said in answer. “Benden and Ruatha have the strongest ties, F’nor. Blood, as well as mutual interest.”
F’nor’s expression turned from daunting to amused. He clipped Jaxom hard enough on the shoulder to make him lose balance.
“Well said, Ruatha, well said! So, what did you discover today?”
With no little satisfaction, Jaxom recounted his morning’s labor, and F’nor’s eyes widened with excitement.
“The ships they landed in? Let’s go!” He tightened his belt, fastened his helmet and gestured for Jaxom to speed up his dressing. “We’ve Thread tomorrow at Benden, but, if this is as you say . . .”
“I’m coming, too,” the Harper announced.
Not even the boldest fire-lizard chirped in the silence that followed that remark.
“I’m coming, too,” Master Robinton repeated in a firm reasonable tone to override the protest he saw in every face. “I’ve missed too much. The suspense is very bad for me!” He placed his hand dramatically on his chest. “My heart pounds harder and harder with every passing moment that I’m forced to wait until you decide to send me dribbles and drabbles of tantalizing details.” He held up his hand as Menolly recovered her wits and opened her mouth to speak. “I will do no digging. I will merely watch! But, I assure you that the vexation, not to mention the loneliness and suspense while you are off making Records, will put a totally unnecessary and dangerous strain on my poor heart. What if I collapsed from the tension, with no one here?”
“Master Robinton, if Brekke knew . . .” Menolly’s protest was very weak.
F’nor covered his eyes with one hand and shook his head at the Harper’s base tactics. “Give the man a finger and he’ll take a length.” Then he looked up and shook his finger at Robinton. “If you move a muscle, pick up a pinch of dirt, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
“I’ll sit on him,” Menolly finished, giving her Master such a fierce glare that he pretended to ward off her glance.
“Get my flying gear, Menolly, there’s a dear child.” The Harper, with a cajoling expression, gave her a gentle push toward the Hold. “And my writing case from the worktable in my study. I really will behave myself, F’nor, and I’m certain I wouldn’t come to harm in such a short journey between. Menolly,” he raised his voice to a carrying roar, “don’t forget the half-sack of wine on my chair! It was bad enough yesterday being unable to see the Plateau buildings!”
As soon as Menolly returned with his requirements, the wine sack bouncing on her back, there was no more discussion. F’nor mounted the Harper and Piemur on Canth, leaving Jaxom to settle Menolly behind him on Ruth. Fleetingly he wished that Sharra were still here. He wondered if Ruth could bespeak her all the way to Southern and then restrained the impulse. Day had not yet dawned that far west. The two dragons ascended with a dense escort of fire-lizards. Ruth gave Canth the direction and, even as Jaxom worried that the Harper’s action was very rash, they had gone between and were gliding toward the three peculiar hills.
Jaxom grinned with delight at the response to his discovery. Menolly’s arms gripped him more tightly and she cried out an intricate arpeggio in her excitement. He could see the Harper gesticulating wildly, and hoped he had a good grip on F’nor’s belt. Canth, never taking his eyes from the hole in the hill, veered to land as close to it as possible. They settled the Harper in the nearest spot of shade and had Jaxom ask Ruth to get the local fire-lizards to image things for himself and Zair while he admired their labors.
To the chirping conversation of fire-lizards, the others began to dig, Ruth standing to one side since Canth could move far more earth than he and there was only room for one dragon. Jaxom was keenly aware of an internal excitement that had been utterly lacking at the Plateau.
They dug perpendicularly now, for Jaxom had unearthed the top of the vehicle. Canth’s enthusiasm often showered the Harper with clods of dirt as they worked down to the door area, but they’d been digging only a short time before the seam of the doorway, a fine crack in the otherwise smooth surface, came to light. F’nor had Canth shift the angle of excavation slightly to the right and very shortly the entire upper edge of the opening was uncovered.
Much encouraged, fire-lizards joined Canth and the riders, and dirt flew everywhere. When the opening was all but clear, they had also uncovered the rounded, leading edge of one of the stubby wings as well, proving, as the Harper was quick to point out, that the fire-lizards did recall accurately what their ancestors had seen. Once you could get them to remember, of course.
When the whole doorway had been cleared, the workers stood aside for the Harper to approach and examine it.
“I think we really had better contact Lessa and F’lar now. And it would be unkind in the extreme to exclude Master Fandarel. He might even be able to tell us what they constructed this ship of.”
“That’s enough people to know of this,” F’nor said before the Harper could include any other names. “I’ll go for the Mastersmith myself. It’ll spare time and prevent gossip. Canth will tell Ramoth.” He rubbed sweat from his face and neck and the worst of the mud stains from his hands before he shrugged into his flying gear. “Don’t any of you do anything while I’m gone!” he added, glaring at each one in turn and most fiercely at the Harper.
“I wouldn’t know what to do,” the Harper said in a reproving tone. “We shall take refreshment,” he said, reaching for the wineskin, and gesturing the others to sit around him.
The diggers welcomed a respite and a chance to contemplate the marvel they were unearthing.
“If they flew in those things . . .”
“If, my dear Piemur. No doubt obtains. They did. The fire-lizards saw tho
se vehicles land,” Master Robinton said.
“I started to say that if they flew in those things, why didn’t they fly them away from the Plateau after the explosion?”
“A very good point.”
“Well?”
“Perhaps Fandarel can answer, for I certainly can’t,” Robinton said truthfully, regarding the door with some chagrin.
“Maybe they’d need to take off from a height, the way a lazy dragon does,” Menolly said, casting a sly glance at Jaxom.
“How long does it take F’nor to go between?” the Harper asked with a wistful sigh, squinting up at the bright sky for any sign of returning dragons.
“Takes longer to take off and land.”
The Benden Weyrleaders arrived first, Canth with F’nor and Fandarel only a few seconds behind them so that all three dragons landed together. The Smith was first off Canth, rushing to the new wonder to run reverent hands over the curious surface, murmuring under his breath. F’lar and Lessa came striding through the long grasses, picking their way past dragon-strewn dirt; neither took their eyes from the softly shining doorway.
“Aha!” the Smith cried in sudden triumph, startling everyone. He’d been examining the rim of the doorway minutely. “Perhaps this is meant to move!” He dropped to his knees to the exposed right-hand corner. “Yes, if one excavated the entire vessel, this would probably be man-height! I think I ought to press.” He put action to words and a small panel slid open to one side of the main door. It displayed a depression occupied by several colored circles.
Everyone crowded about him as his big fingers wiggled preparatorily and then hovered first over the upper rank of green circles. The bottom ones were red.
The Dragonriders of Pern Page 106