Red Star Rising by: Anne McCaffrey NOTE: this book has two names, in the uk where this book was purchased its entitled: "red star rising" but in the U.S. its called dragons eye Synopsis: When the volcanoes rumble and the powerful storms begin brewing on Pern, it means one thing: Thread. For 257 years Pern has been free of the life-destroying Thread, but now the Red Star has reappeared in the sky and soon the deadly Threadfall will follow. In the holds and weyrs across the land, the genetically-engineered dragons of Pern and their human riders begin feverishly training to combat the Thread, for only dragon fire can destroy the silvery invaders. But, incredibly, one Lord Holder refuses to believe the Thread will fall again, and he may endanger the entire planet. Prologue Rukbat, in the Sagittarian sector, was a golden o-type star. It had five planets, two asteroid belts, and a stray planet it had attracted and held in recent millennia. When men first settled on Rukbat's third planet and called it Pern, they had taken little notice of the stranger planet, swinging around its adopted primary in a wildly erratic orbit - until the desperate path of the wanderer brought it close to its stepsister at perihelion. When such aspects were harmonious, and not distorted by conjunctions with other planets in the system, the wanderer brought in a life form which sought to bridge the space gap to the more temperate and hospitable planet. The initial losses the colonists suffered from the voracious mycorrhizoid organism that fell on them were staggering. They had divorced themselves from their home planet, Earth, and had cannibalized the colony ships, the Yokohama, the Bahrain and the Buenos Aires, so they would have to improvise with what they had. Their first need was an aerial defence against the Thread, as they named this menace. Using highly sophisticated bio-engineering techniques, they developed a specialized variant of a Pernese life form which had two unusual, and useful, characteristics: the so-called fire-lizards could digest a phosphine bearing rock in one of their two stomachs and, belching forth the resultant gas, create a fiery breath which reduced Thread to harmless char. The second of their unusual qualities were the ability to teleport and an empathy which allowed limited understanding with humans. The bio-engineered dragons' - so called because they resembled the Earth's mythical creatures - were paired at hatching with an empathic human, forming a symbiotic relationship of unusual depth and mutual respect. The colonists moved to the northern continent to seek shelter from the insidious Thread in the cave systems which were called holds'. The dragons and their riders came, too, housing themselves in old volcanic craters or Weyrs. The First Pass of Thread lasted nearly fifty years and what scientific information the colonists were able to gather indicated that Thread would be a cyclic problem, occurring every two hundred and fifty years as the path of the wanderer once again approached Pern. During this interval, the dragons multiplied and each successive generation became a little larger than the last, although optimum level would take many, many more generations to reach. And the humans spread out across the northern continent, creating holds to live in, and halls in which to train young people in skills and professions. Sometimes folks even forgot that they lived on a threatened planet. However, in both Holds and Weyrs, there were masses of reports, journals, maps and charts to remind the Lords and Weyrleaders of the problem: and much advice to assist their descendants when next the rogue planet approached Pern and how to prepare for the incursion. This is what happened two hundred and fifty-seven years later. Early Autumn at Fort's Gather Dragons in squadrons wove, and interwove sky trails, diving and climbing in wings, each precisely separated by the minimum safety distance so that occasionally the watchers thought they saw an uninterrupted line of dragons as the close order drill continued. The skies above Fort Hold, the oldest of the human settlements on the northern continent, were brilliantly clear on this early autumn day: that special sort of clarity and depth of colour that their ancestors in the New England sector of the North American continent would have instantly identified. The sun gleamed on healthy dragon hides and intensified the golden queen dragons who flew at the lowest level, sometimes seeming to touch the tops of the nearby mountains as they circled Fort. It was a sight to behold, and always brought a thrill of pride to those who watched the display: with one or two exceptions. Well, that's done for now,' said Chalkin, Lord Holder of Bitra, the first to lower his eyes, though the fly-past was not yet over. He rotated his neck and smoothed the skin where the decorative embroidered border of his best tunic had scratched the skin. Actually, he had had a few heart-stopping moments during some of the manoeuvres, but he would never mention that aloud. The dragon riders were far too full of themselves as it was, without pandering to their egos and an inflated sense of importance: constantly appearing at his Hold and handing him lists of what hadn't been done and must be done before Threadfall. Chalkin snorted. Just how many people were taken in with all this twaddle? The storms last year had been unusually hard, but then that wasn't in itself unexpectable, so why were hard storms supposed to be a prelude to a Pass? Winter meant storms. And this preoccupation with the volcanoes going off. They did periodically anyway, sort of a natural phenomenon, if he remembered his science orientation correctly. So what if three or four were active right now? That did not necessarily have to do with the proximity of a spatial neighbour! And he was not going to require guards to freeze themselves keeping an easterly watch for the damned planet. Especially as every other Hold was also on the alert. So what if it orbited near Pern? That didn't necessarily mean it was close enough to be dangerous, no matter how the ancients had gone on about cyclical incursions. The dragons were just one more of the settlers' weird experiments, altering an avian species to take the place of the aircraft they had once had. He'd seen the air sled which the Telgar Foundry treasured as an exhibit: a vehicle much more convenient to fly in than aboard a dragon where one had to endure the black-cold of teleportation. He shuddered. He had no liking for that sort of ultimate cold, even if it avoided the fatigue of overland travel. Surely in all those records the College was mustering folks to copy, there were other materials that could be substituted for whatever the ancients had used to power the vehicles? Why hadn't some bright lad found the answer before the last of the air sleds deteriorated completely? Why didn't the brainy ones develop a new type of air-worthy vessel? A vessel that didn't expect to be thanked for doing its duty! He glanced down at the wide roadway where the gather tables and stalls were set up. His were empty; even his gamesters were watching the sight. He'd have a word with them later. They should have been able to keep some customers at the various games of chance even with the dragon rider display. Surely everyone had seen that by now. Still, the races had gone well and, with every one of the wager-takers his operators, he'd have made a tidy profit from his percentage of the bets. As he made his way back to his seat, he saw that wine chillers had been placed at every table. He rubbed his be ringed fingers together in anticipation, the black Istan diamonds flashing as they caught sunlight. The wine was the only reason he had been willing to come to this Gathering: and he'd half suspected Hegmon of some prevarication in the matter. An effervescent wine, like the champagne one heard about from old Earth, was to have its debut. And, of course, the food would be marvellous too, even if the wine should not live up to its advance notice. Paulin, Fort Hold's Lord, had lured one of the best chefs on the continent to his kitchens and the evening meal was sure to be good: if it didn't turn sour in his stomach while he sat through the obligatory meeting afterwards. Chalkin had bid for the man's services, but Chrislee had spurned Bitra's offer and that refusal had long rankled in Chalkin's mind. The Bitran Holder mentally ran through possible excuses for leaving right after dinner: one plausible enough to be accepted by the others. This close to putative Threadfall, he had to be careful of alienating the wrong people. If he left before the dinner... but then he wouldn't have a chance to sample this champagne-style wine, and he was determined to. He'd taken the trouble to go to Hegmon's Benden vineyard, with the clear intention of buying cases of the vintage. But Hegmon had refused to see him. Oh, his eldest son had been apologetic - something about a critical time in the process requiring Hegmon's presence in the caverns - but the upshot was that Chalkin couldn't even get his name put down on the purchase list for the sparkling wine. Since Benden Weyr was likely to get the lion's share of it, Chalkin had to keep in good with the Benden Weyrleaders so that, at the Hatching which was due to occur in another few weeks, he'd be invited and could drink as much of their allotment of wines as he could. More than one way to skin a wherry! He paused to twirl one of the bottles in its ice nest. Almost perfectly chilled. Riders must have brought the ice in from the High Reaches for Paulin. Whenever he needed some, he couldn't find a rider willing to do him, Bitra's Lord Holder, such a simple service. Humph! But of course, certain Bloodlines always got preferential treatment. Rank didn't mean as much as it should, that was certain! He was surreptitiously inspecting the label of a bottle when there was a sudden, startled intake of fearful breaths from the watchers, instantly followed by a wild cheer. Looking up, he saw he had just missed some sort of dangerous manoeuvre Ah, yes, they'd done another mid-air rescue. He saw a bronze dragon veering from under a blue who was miming a wounded wing: both riders now safely aboard the bronze's neck. Quite likely that Telgar Weyrleader who was such a dare-devil. Cheers were now punctuated with applause and some banging of drums from the bandsmen on their podium down on the wide courtyard that spread out from the steps to the Hold down to the two right-angled annexes. Once again, both the infirmary and the teachers' college were being enlarged, if the scaffolding was a reliable indication. Chalkin snorted, for the buildings were being extended outward, wide open to any Thread which was purportedly supposed to start falling again. They really ought to be consistent! Of course, tunnelling into the cliff would take more time than building outside. But too many folks preached one thing and practised another. Chalkin grunted to himself, wondering acidly if the architects had got Weyrleader approval for the design. Thread! He snorted again and wished that Paulin, chatting so cosily with the two Benden Holders as he and his wife escorted them back to the head table, would hurry up. He was dying to sample the bubbly white. Rattling his fingers on the table, he awaited the return of his host and the opening of the tempting bottles in the cooler. K'vin, bronze Charanth's rider, put his lips close to the ear of the young blue rider sitting in front of him. Next time wait for my signal!" he said. P'tero only grinned, giving him a backward glance, his bright blue eyes merry. Knew you'd catch me, he bellowed back. Too many people watching to let me swing and give Weyr secrets away!" Then P'tero waved encouragingly at Ormonth, who was now flying anxiously at Charanth's wingtip. Though unseen from the ground, the safety-tethers still linked the blue rider to his dragon. P'tero unbuckled his end of the straps and they dangled free. Lucky you that I was looking up just then!" K'vin said so harshly that the brash lad flushed to his ear tips. Look at the fright you've given Ormonth!" And he gestured towards the blue, his hide flushing in mottled spots from his recent scare. P'tero yelled something else which K'vin didn't catch so he leaned forward, putting his right ear nearer the blue rider's mouth. I was in no danger,' P'tero repeated. I used brand-new straps and he watched me braid em. Hah!" As every rider knew, dragons had gaps in their ability to correlate cause and effect. So Ormonth would scarcely have connected the new straps with his rider's perfect safety. Oh, thanks,' the rider added as K'vin snapped one of his own straps to P'tero's belt. Not that they would be doing more than landing, but K'vin wished to make a point of safety to P'tero. While K'vin approved of courage, he did not appreciate recklessness, especially if it endangered a dragon this close to the beginning of Threadfall. Careful supervision had kept his Weyr from losing any dragon partners and he intended to maintain that record. Spilling off his blue before K'vin had passed the word was taking a totally unnecessary risk. Fortunately, K'vin had seen P'tero dive. His heart had lurched in his chest, even if he knew P'tero was equipped with the especially heavy and long harness as a fail-safe. Even if he and Charanth had not accurately judged the mid-air rescue, those long straps would have saved the blue rider from falling to his death. Today's manoeuvre had been precipitous instead of well-executed. And, if Charanth had not been as adept on the wing, P'tero might be nursing broken ankles or severe bruising as a result of his folly. No matter how broad, those safety straps really jerked a man about in mid-air. P'tero still showed no remorse. K'vin only hoped that the stunt produced the effect the love-struck P'tero wished. His mate would have been watching, heart in mouth, no doubt, and P'tero would reap the harvest of such fear some time this evening. K'vin wished that more girls were available to Impress green dragons. It made that facet of Weyrleadership considerably easier to deal with. There were still a few, of course, but with parents keenly interested in applying for more land by setting up cot holds for married children, fewer and fewer girls were encouraged to stand on the Hatching Grounds. While being a dragon rider didn't prevent a girl from having children, if that's what she wanted, it did prevent them from owning land. Still, grandchildren, even the Weyrborn, could claim land. Though, in actual fact, more Weyrborn preferred to stay in the Weyr even if they didn't Impress. The dragons who had taken part in the mass fly-by were now landing their riders in the wide road beyond the court. Then they leaped up again to find a spot in which to enjoy the last of the warm autumnal sun. Many made for the adjoining cliffs as space on Fort's heights filled up on either side of the solar panels. Dragons could be trusted not to tread on what remained of the priceless installations. Fort's were the oldest, of course, and two banks had been lost last winter to the unseasonably fierce storms. Fort, being the largest as well as the oldest northern installation, needed all its arrays in full working order to supply heat for its warren of corridors, power for air circulation units and what equipment still worked. Fortunately a huge stockpile of panels had been made during the first big wave of constructing new Weyrs and Holds. There would be enough for generations. Weyrleaders sought their tables on the upper level with Lord Holders and Professionals, while riders joined whatever company they preferred at tables set up on the huge expanse of the outer apron. Not a sprout of vegetation anywhere on that plaza surface, K'vin noticed with approval. S'nan, Fort's Weyrleader, had always been fussy and rightly so. The musicians had struck up sprightly music and couples were already dancing on the wooden floor set over the cobbles. Beyond the dance square were the stalls, tents and tables where goods were being sold or exchanged. There'd been brisk business all day, especially for items needed during the winter months when there would be fewer big Gathers. The various Craftsmen would be pleased, and there'd be less for the dragons to haul back. Charanth was now circling over the annexes which had been started to increase living space for both Pern's main infirmary research facility and teacher training. The dormitories were also going to house volunteers who were assiduously trying to save the records, damaged during last spring when water had leaked down the walls of the vast storage caverns under Fort. Riders had offered to spend as much time as possible from their training schedules to help in the project. Everyone who had a legible script was acceptable, and Lord Paulin had done a bang-up job in making the copyists comfortable. The other Holds had contributed material and work forces. The exterior buildings of the College were designed to be Threadproof, with high peaked roofs of Telgar slate and gutters which led into underground cisterns where errant Thread would be drowned. All the Craftsmen involved, including those destined to inhabit the facility, would have preferred to enlarge the cave system, but there had been two serious collapses of caverns and the mining engineers had vetoed interior expansion for fear of undermining the whole cliff-side. Even the mutant, blunt-winged, flightless photo-sensitive watchwhers had refused to go on further subterranean explorations which, their handlers insisted meant dangers human eyes couldn't see. So build they did: stout walls more than two and a half me tres thick at ground level, tapering to just under two me tres under the roof. With the iron mines at Telgar going full blast, the necessary structural beams to support such weight had posed no problem. The new quarters were to be finished within the month. Even today there had been a work force, though they had taken a break to watch the aerial display and would finish in time for the evening meal and entertainment. Charanth landed gracefully, with Ormonth right beside him so that P'tero could remove the tethering safety straps before they could be noticed. As he was doing so, M'leng, green Sith's rider, came up to him, scolding him for putting my heart in my mouth like that!" And he proceeded to berate P'tero far more viciously than his Weyrleader would. K'vin grinned to himself, especially as he saw how penitent P'tero became under such a harangue. K'vin rolled up his riding straps and tied them to the harness ring. Enjoy the sun, my friend,' he said, slapping Charanth on the wide shoulder. I wilL Meranath is already there, the bronze dragon said, his tone slightly smug as he executed a powerful upward leap, showering his rider with grit. Charanth's attitude towards his mate, Meranath, amused, and pleased, his rider. No-one had expected K'vin to accede to Telgar's Weyrleadership when it fell open after B'ner's death nine months before. Who would have expected that the sturdy rider, just into his sixth decade, had had any heart problems? But that is what the medics said killed him. So, when Meranath was ready to mate again, Telgar's senior Weyrwoman, Zulaya, had called for an open flight, leaving it to the dragons to decide on the next Leader. She'd insisted that she had no personal preference. She had been sincerely attached to B'ner and was probably still grieving for him. There had certainly been no lack of suitors'. K'vin had sent Charanth aloft in the mating flight because all the Telgar Weyr wing leaders were expected to take part, as well as bronze riders from the other Weyrs. He had no real wish to lead a Weyr into a Pass; he considered himself too yonng for such responsibilities. He had observed from B'ner that the normal duties of an Interval were bad enough, but to know that a high percentage of your fellow-riders would be injured, or killed, that the lives of so many people rested on your expertise and endurance was too much to contemplate. Some nights, now, he was racked by terrifying dreams, and Threadfall hadn't even started. On the occasions when he was in Zulaya's bed, she had been understanding and calmly reassuring. B'ner worried, too, if that's any consolation, Kev,' she said, using his old nickname and soothing back sweat-curled hair as he trembled with reaction. He had nightmares, too. Comes with the title. As a rule, the morning after a nightmare, B'ner'd go over Sean's notes. I figure he had to have memorized them. I've seen you do the same thing. You'll do well, Kev, when push comes to shove. I know it." Zulaya could sound so sure of something, but then she was nearly a decade his senior and had had more experience as a Weyrleader. Sometimes her intuition was downright uncanny: she could accurately predict the size of clutches, the distribution of the colours, the sex of babies born in the Weyr and, occasionally, even the type of weather in the future. But then, she was Fort Weyrbred, a linear descendant of one of the First Riders, Aliana Zuleita, and knew things. It was odd how the golden queens always seemed to prefer women from outside the Weyrs, but sometimes a queen had a mind of her own and chose a Weyrbred woman in spite of what had become custom. However, just like his predecessor, he constantly reviewed accounts of the individual Falls, how they differed, how you could tell from the Leading Edge of Fall that this would be an odd one. Most often the accounts were dry statements of fact, but the prosaic language did not disguise the presence of great courage: especially as those first riders had to figure out how to cope with Thread, easy or hard. The fact that he was a several times great-nephew of Sorka Connell, the First Weyrwoman - and Zulaya pointed this out more than once - constituted a secondary and subtle reassurance to the entire Weyr. Maybe that's why Meranath let Charanth catch her. Zulaya said, her face dead serious but her eyes dancing. Had you, I mean... did you think of me... I mean... K'vin tried to summon appropriate words two weeks after that momentous flight. He had been overwhelmed by her response to him that night. But afterwards she had seemed very casual in her dealings with him, and she did not always invite him into her quarters, despite the fact that their dragons were inseparable. Who thinks at all during a mating flight? But I do believe I'm glad that Charanth was so clever. If there is anything in heredity, having a distant great-nephew of Fort Weyr's First Weyrwoman - AND from a family that has put many acceptable candidates on the Hatching Grounds - as Telgar's Weyrleader gives us all a boost. I'm not my many times great-aunt, Zulaya She chuckled. Fortunately, or you wouldn't be Weyrleader, but blood will tell!' Zulaya had a disconcerting directness but gave him no real hint how she - the woman, not the Weyrwoman - personally felt towards him. She was kind, helpful, made constructive suggesnons when they discussed training programmes but so impersonal . . . that K'vin had to decide that she hadn't really got over B'ner's death yet. He himself was obscurely comforted that his distant gre at aunt had managed to survive Fall, and he would attempt to do the same. As, he was sure, would his two siblings and four cousins who were also dragon riders Though no others were Weyrleaders . yet. Still, if his being of the Ruathan Bloodline which had produced Sorka, M'hall, M'dani, Sorana and Mairian offered reassurance to his Weyr, he'd reinforce that at every turn during the Pass. Now, at probably the last large Gather Pern would enjoy wider Threadfree skies for the next fifty years, he watched his Weyrwoman leave the group of Telgar holders she had been talking to and stride towards him across the open eourtyard. Zulaya was tall for a woman, long-legged - all the better for bestriding a dragon's neck. He was a full head taller than she was, which she said she liked in him: B'ner had been just her height. It was her colouring that fascinated K'vin: the inky-black curly hair that, once freed of the flying helmet, tumbled down below her waist. The hair framed a wide, highcheekboned face, set off the beige of her smooth skin and large, lustrous eyes that were nearly black; a wide and sensual mouth above a strong chin gave her face strength and purpose which reinforced her authority with anyone. She strode, unlike some of the hold women who minced along, her steel-rimmed boot heels noisy on the flagstones, her arms swinging at her sides. She'd had time to put a long, slitted skirt over her riding gear and it opened as she walked, shpwing a well-formed leg in the leather pants and high boots. She'd turned the high riding-boot cuffs down over her calves and the red fur made a nice accent to her costume, echoed in the fur trim of her cuffs and collar which she had opened. As usual, she wore the sapphire pendant she had inherited as the eldest female of her Blood. So, did P'tero win M'leng's undying affection with that stunt?" she demanded, an edge to her voice. They've gone off together . . . and she looked in the direction of the two riders who were headed towards the temporary tents along the row of cots. You might have a word with both later. They're afraid of you,' K'vin said, grinning. For that piece of stupidity, I'll make them more afraid,' she said briskly, hopping a step to match his stride. You really should learn how to scowl menacingly." She glanced up at K'vin and then shook her head, sighing sadly. She had once teased him that he was far too handsome to ever look genuinely threatening, with the Hanrahan red hair, blue eyes and freckles. No, you just don't have the face for it. Be that as it may, Meranath's going to give out to Sith for allowing a blue to put himself in danger. Get em where it hurts,' K'vin said, nodding, because Meranath was even more effective as a deterrent with the dragons than any human could be, even the dragon's own rider. Damned fool stunt!" However,' and now Zulaya cleared her throat, the Telgarians thought it was "Just marvellous!"' she added in a gushing tone. Especially since they won't get much chance to see the dive in real action." Now she grimaced. Well, at least Telgarians believe,' K'vin said. Who doesn't?" Zulaya demanded, looking up at him. Chalkin, for one." Him!" She had absolutely no use for the Bitran Lord Holder and never bothered to hide it. If there's one, there may be others for all the lip service they give us. What? With Second Fall only months away from us?" Zulaya demanded. And why, pray tell, do we have dragons at all, if not to provide an aerial defence for the continent? Oh, we provide transportation services, but that's not nearly enough to justify our existence. Easy, lady,' K'vin said. You're preaching to the dedicated. She made a disgusted sound deep in her throat and then they had reached the steps up to the upper Court. She put her hand through his arm so that they would present the proper picture of united Weyrleadership. K'vin stifled a sigh that the accord was only for public display. And Chalkin's already into that new bubbling wine of Hegmon's,' Zulaya said irritably. Why else do you think he came?" asked K'vin as he deftly guided her away from the Bitran, who was smacking his lips and regarding his wine glass with greedy speculation. Though today's also a chance for his gamesters to profit." One thing sure, I hear tell he's not on Hegmon's list,' she said as they reached their table which the Telgarians shared, by choice, with the High Reaches Weyr and Hold leaders and those from Tillek. The senior Captain of the Tillek fishing fleet and his new wife completed the complement at their table. That was quite a show you put on," said the jovial ship's master, Kizan, wasn't it, Cherry, m'dear?" Oh, it was, indeed it was,' the girl replied, clapping her hands together. While the gesture was close to an affectation, the young wife was clearly awed by the company she kept at this Gather and everyone was trying to help her cope. Kizan had let it be known that she came from a small fishing hold and, while a capable ship's master, she had little experience with a wider world. I've often seen the dragons in the sky, but never so close up. They are so beautiful." Have you ridden one yet?" Zulaya asked kindly. Oh, heavens, no,' Cherry replied, modestly lowering her eyes. You may, and soon, her husband said. We came overland here to Fort for the Gather, but I think we'd better see how good our credit is Very good, Captain,' said G'don, the High Reaches Weyrleader, as you've never applied to us half as much as you're entitled to." Mari, his Weyrwoman, nodded and smiled encouragingly at Cherry's almost horrified reaction. What?" Kizan teased his bride. The woman who sailed through a Force Nine gale without complaint is nervous about flying on a dragon?" Cherry tried to respond, but she couldn't find words. Don't tease,' Mari said. Riding a dragon is considerably different to standing on your own deck, but I don't know many people who refuse a ride." Oh, I'm not refusing,' Cherry said hastily, startled. Just like a child frarffil of being denied a promised treat, K'vin thought and struggled to keep from grinning at her. All of you, leave her alone,' said the Telgar Lady Holder, scowling at them. I remember my first ride adragonback. Back that far, huh, said her husband, Lord Tashvi, eyeing her blandly. And yet you can't remember where you put that bale of extra blankets . Don't start on that again!" Salda began, scowling, but it was apparent to the others at the table, even young Cherry, that the Telgar Holders often indulged in such sparring. Have you not opened your wine?" asked an eager voice and they looked round at Vintner Hegmon, a stout, grey haired man of medium height with a flushed face and a reddened nose which he jokingly called an occupational hazard. Do us the honour." said Tashvi, gesturing to the chilled bottles. Hegmon complied and, in his experienced hands, the plug erupted from the bottle neck with speed and a plop'. The wine bubbled up but he deftly put a glass under the lip before a drop could be spilled. I think we've done it this time,' he said, filling the glasses presented to him. I say, it does look exciting,' said Salda, holding up her glass to watch the bubbles make their ascent. Thea, the High Reaches Lady Holder, did likewise and then sniffed at her glass. Oh, my word,' she exclaimed, putting a hand to her nose just in time to catch a sneeze. The bubbles tickle." Try the wine,' Hegmon urged. Hmmmm,' Tashvi said and Kizan echoed the sentiment. Dry, too,' the Captain said. Go on, Cherry,' he urged his wife. It's quite unlike Tillek brews. They tend to be foxy and harsh. This'll go down easily. Ohhh,' and Cherry's response was one of sheer delight. Oh, I like this!" Hegmon grinned at her ingenuousness and accepted the approving nods from the others at the table. I quite like it, too,' Zulaya said after letting a sip slide down her throat. Rather nice." I say, Hegmon, wouldn't mind a refill,' and Chalkin appeared at the table, extending his glass under the mouth of the bottle the Vintner held. Hegmon kept the bottle upright and regarded the Lord Holder coolly. There's more at your own table, Chalkin. True, but I'd rather sample different bottles. Hegmon stiffened and Salda intervened. Leave off, Chalkin. As if Hegmon would offer an inferior bottle to anyone,' she said and waved him off. Chalkin hesitated between a scowl and a smile but then, keeping his expression bland, he bowed and backed away from the table with his empty glass. He did not, however, return to his own table, but moved on to the next one where wine was being poured. I could..." Hegmon began. Just don't supply him, Hegmon." He's already insistent that I give him vine starts so he can grow his own,' said Hegmon, furious at such importunity. Not that he'd do that any better than any of those other projects he starts." Ignore him,' Zulaya suggested with a flick of her fingers. M'shall and Irene do. He's such a toady." Unfortunately,' said Tashvi with a grimace, he's managed to find like minds.. We'll settle him at the meeflng, said K'vin. I hope so,' Tashvi said, though a man like that is not easily convinced against his will. And he does have a following. Not where it matters,' Zulaya put in. I hope so. Ah, and here's food to soak up all this lovely stuff before we're too muddled to keep our wits about us this evening. Zulaya waved at the wine cooler. I doubt there's more than two glasses apiece, scarcely enough to muddle us, though it's lovely stuff." And she sipped judiciously. Hegmon is generous, but not overly so. And here's our dinner..." She sat back as a swarm of men and women in Fort colours began to distribute platters of steaming foods among the tables. And bottles of red wine. You spoke too soon about muddling, Zuli,' K'vin said, grinning as he served her roast slices from the platter before passing it around the table. They had finished their meal and all the wine before Paulin rose from his table and signalled those in the upper Court to follow him into the Hold for the meeting. Dancing was well under way in the square and the music made a cheerful processional. K'vin hoped the musicians would still be playing when the meeting ended. Despite the height of her, Zulaya was so light on her feet she was a pleasure to partner and, because he was so tall, she preferred him as her partner too. And a full orchestra of professionals was far more entertaining than the half-trained if enthusiastic players currently in the Weyr. Different music, too. Ah,' said Zulaya appreciatively as they filed into Fort's Great Hall, they've done a great job of freshening the murals. Hmmm,' K'vin agreed, craning his neck around and impeding Chalkin's entrance into the Hall. Sorry." Humph,' was Chalkin's response and he glared sourly at Zulaya as he passed, shrugging his garments away from touching them. Consider the source,' K'vin said when he thought Zulaya might fire a tart comment after the Lord Holder. I want to be at Bitra when the first Fall hits his Hold,' she said. Isn't he lucky, then, not to be beholden to us, but to Benden?" K'vin asked wryly. Indeed,' agreed Zulaya and allowed herself to be guided to Telgar Weyr's usual seat at the big conference table. I wonder did anyone get any sleep in this Hold the past week,' she said, stroking the banner of Telgar's colours that clothed their portion of the table. Makes such a nice display,' she murmured as she pulled out the chair which also sported Telgar's white field and black grain design. The table itself was made up of many smaller units hooked together, forming a multi-faceted circle: Telgar's Weyr and Hold leaders were between High Reaches and Tillek since they were the northernmost settlements. Across from them were Ista Weyr and Hold, and Keroon Hold, with their brilliant colours. Benden Weyr was seated with Bitra on one side and Nerat and Benden on the other. The Chief Engineer, the Senior Medic and the Headmaster were also included in the meeting. Fort, traditionally the senior Hold, with Ruatha and Southern Boll on either side, was at table centre and this time was the Chair' Now, if any of us still have our heads after Hegmon's fine new wine, let's get this over with so we can get in some dancing,' said Paulin, smiling around the table. Chalkin banged the table in front of him with a very loud Hear, hear!" K'vin stifled a groan. The man was half-drunk, if not all drunk; his face flushed red. I'm sure we're all aware of the imminence of Threadfall.. Chalkin made a rude noise. Look, Lord Chalkin,' said Paulin, scowling at the dissident, if you managed to get too much of the champagne inside your skin, you can be excused." No, that's exactly what he wants,' said M'shall, Benden's Weyrleader, quickly. Then he can claim anything decided today was done behind his back." If he can't shut up, we can always hold his head under the tap until he sobers enough to remember common courtesy, put in Irene, Benden's Weyrwoman. He doesn't like getting his Gather clothes wet." Her expression suggested she'd had experience enough to know. Chalkin!" Paulin said, his voice steely. Oh, all right,' the Bitran said in a surly tone and he settled himself more squarely in his chair, leaning forward on his elbows at the table. If you're going to be that way Only because you are,' snapped Irene. Paulin gave her a stern look and she subsided, though she kept narrowed eyes on Chalkin for a while longer. Three independent calculations were made and there's no doubt that the Red Planet is getting closer spatially speaking." Is there any chance of a collision?" asked Jamson of High Reaches. Fraggit, Jamson,' Paulin said, let's not bring that up. Why not?" said Chalkin, brightening. Because that . . . improbability has already been discussed to the point of nausea,' Paulin replied. There isn't a hint in any of the information collected by our forefathers to indicate there is any chance of a collision between the two planets. Or that they considered the .. . improbability for any reason. Yes, but does it say anywhere that there can't be?" Chalkin was obviously delighted with this possibility. Absolutely not,' Paulin said simultaneously with Clisser who was not only the College Head but the senior of the trained astronomers. Paulin gestured for Clisser to continue. Captains Keroon and Tillek,' and he paused in reverence, both annotated the AI VAS report which included data from the Yokohama's records. I have repeatedly reworked the relevant equations and the rogue planet will Pass Pern on an elliptical orbit that canNOT alter to a collision course with us. A matter of celestial mechanics and Rukbat's gravitational pull. I'd've brought the diagram of the orbits involved if I'd had forewarning." Clisser gave Chalkin a disgusted glare. Bad enough it brings in the Thread. Do you want to be blown to smithereens, Chalkin?" asked Kalvi, chief of the mechanical engineers. And I checked the maths, too, so I concur with Clisser and everyone else who's done the equations. Why don't you, if you're so worried?" Chalkin ignored the jibe since he had never been noted for scholarship in any field. He was also well pleased with the reaction to his remark. No matter what they said, there was no proof that they were really that safe. Now, calculations indicate early spring will bring the first Threadfall of this Pass. There are several Falls which could be live, depending on the weather conditions, mainly the ambient temperature, at the time of Fall." Paulin reached under his table then and hauled up a board on which Threadfall areas had been meticulously delineated. S'nan cleared his throat, moving restlessly, as if he felt Paulin should not have usurped a Fort prerogative. The first two will be in Fort Weyr's patrol area, the second two in High Reaches' and the third two in Benden's. These are due to occur in the first two weeks, about three days apart. The second Fall in Fort territory and the first one in High Reaches happen on the same day - different flows of the same Fall. Also, we know from the records that there will be live Falls over the Southern Continent for about a week before the Falls commence here in the North. S'nan,' and Paulin turned to the Fort Weyrleader, may we have your progress report?" S'nan stood, holding up his ubiquitous clipboard. (Rumour had it that that item had been passed down from the Connell himself.) He peered down at it a moment. The old Leader of the premier Weyr on Pern resembled his several times great-grandfather, though his silvery hair was more sandy than red. Privately, K'vin didn't think Sean Connell had been such a martinet, even if he had promulgated the rules by which the Weyrs governed themselves. Most of these were common sensible even if S'nan managed to pursue them into the ridiculous. The first Fall,' S'nan began, and there was a touch of pride in his voice, would start over the sea east of Fort Hold and come ashore at the mouth of the river, passing diagonally across the peninsula and out into the sea in the west. The second two Falls, which will occur three days later, will be over the southern tip of Southern Boll." He used his stylus and, at his most condescending, touched Paulin's chart. This one may go south far enough to miss land entirely, and in any case will be over land for only a short while - and over the western tip of High Reaches, again proceeding out to sea, and 50 over land for only a short time. The third Fall will start on the south coast of the Tillek peninsula, east of the site of the Hold: and proceed out to sea, again over land only for a short time. Thread giving us all a chance to get accustomed to fighting it?" asked B'nurrin of Igen. Your levity is ill-placed,' S'nan said, but there were too many grins around the table for his reprimand to affect the irrepressible young Weyrleader. He cleared his throat and launched once more into his discourse. The next two Falls will be the most dangerous for unseasoned wings,' and he shot a stern glance at B'nurrin as he found the proper Thread path. The first will start over the sea in the east and proceed over Benden Weyr and Bitra Hold, ending almost at Igen Weyr. This would normally be flown jointly by Benden and Igen Weyrs. The second will start at the northern end of the Nerat peninsula and proceed across it, over the east coast of Keroon and the east tip of Igen, and end just offshore from Igen. This also would normally be a joint Fall, flown by Benden over Nerat, Igen over the northern part of Keroon, and Ista over the southern part of Keroon. We really do know what Falls we fly, S'nan,' M'shall said. Yes, yes, of course,' and S'nan cleared his throat again. However,' and his glance went to the Lord Holders seated around the table, it was decided at the last meeting of the Weyrleaders that, since any of these would be the first Fall in our experience, every Weyr would supply a double-wing at the initial engagement. Thus each Weyr would have first-hand experience. I still think we could all get that by hitting those first Southern Falls,' B'nurrin began. If the dragons miss, it's not going to fall on anyone's head or ruin any farmland." B'nurrin!" M'shall said sternly before the startled S'nan could open his mouth. K'vin privately thought B'nurrin had a good idea and had backed him, but they had been overruled by the older Weyrleaders. K'vin suspected that if he were to take some wings down South for that first Fall there, he'd be likely to find B'nurrin practising' there, too. I still think it's a good idea,' the Igen leader said, shrugging. Pretending such an interruption hadn't even occurred, S'nan went on. As was customary in the First Pass, Lord Holders will supply adequate ground crews and have them assembled as directed by the Weyrleaders. In this case, Weyrleader M'shall." He inclined slightly towards the Benden bronze rider. Master Kalvi,' and he bowed courteously to the Head Engineer, has assured me that his foundry has turned out sufficient HNO3 cylinders to equip the ground crews, but the HNO3 must be made up on site. As in the First Pass, the labour and material are supplied by the engineer corps as part of their public duty. You all should have received your full allotment of tanks by Year's End." S'nan paused and peered at Kalvi who rose to his feet. The Fort Weyrleader was precise in his language, scorning to use the term Turn' for a year which was coming into use among the younger generation. I've scheduled every major Hold with three days of training in the maintenance and repair of the flame-throwers and a practice session which, I think,' and Kalvi grinned, you will find comprehensive as well as interesting." He shifted his stance and would have gone on, but S'nan held up his hand and gestured Kalvi to sit. With a bit of a snort and a grin, Kalvi complied. Now the Fort Weyrleader turned his glance to Corey. I believe you also plan a three-day seminar to instruct major and minor hold personnel in burn control and Thread --- ah first aid. Corey did not rise but nodded. Lords Holder must assign suitable medics with every ground control unit, or have one member of each trained in first aid and supplied with kits containing numb weed fell is juice and other first-aid medications,' S'nan continued. Now,' and he flipped over the top sheet, I have done pre-Pass inspections of all Weyrs and find them well up to strength, with sufficient cadet riders to supply the wings with phosphine rock during the Pass. I have discussed all aspects of flight tactics and Weyr maintenance with the respective Weyrleaders . K'vin writhed a bit on his chair, remembering the exhaustive inspection carried out by S'nan and Sarai: they'd even inspected the recycling plant! Then he noticed that G'don, the oldest Weyrleader, was also squirming. So, the Fort pair had spared no-one in their officious search for perfection. Well, they were heading into a Pass and the Fort Weyrleaders were correct to want every aspect of dragon riding at the highest possible standard and readiness. In the propagation of dragons, the pair had found no fault with Telgar Weyr: it had had the largest clutches of all the Weyrs in the last three years as the dragons themselves answered the tide of preparations for the coming struggle. K'vin was hoping that Charanth's first clutch would be larger than any that B'ner's Miginth had sired; maybe then Zulaya would warm to him. The two junior queens had done well in their latest clutches, producing more of the useful greens and blues. Telgar Weyr would soon be full! They might have to shift out some of the excess population to other Weyrs, but that could wait until the yearly review. And, in conclusion, let me state that we are as ready as we can be." Far more ready than the First Riders were,' G'don remarked in his dry fashion. Indeed,' echoed Irene of Benden. K'vin contented himself with a smile. Unbidden, a little wiggle of fear shot up from his belly to chill him and he gave himself a shake. He came from a Blood that had produced First Riders and contributed many sons and daughters to the Weyrs. And you ride me, Charanth said firmly. Ishall be formidable in the air. Thread will fly in the other direction when it sees my flame. And that was not all draconic boast, for Charanth had Fracked up the Weyr Record for the length he achieved in flaming practice. Together we meet Thread, not just you on your own. I shall be with you and we shall overcome. Thanks, Charrie. You re welcome, Kev. You've got that look in your eye, K'vin,' Zulaya murmured for his ear alone. What's Charanth's opinion of all this?" He's raring to go,' K'vin whispered back, and grinned. Charanth was right to remind him that he did not fly alone: they were together as they had been from the moment the bronze had broken his shell in half and stepped directly towards a fourteenyearold Kevin of the Hanrahans waiting on the hot sands of Hatching Ground. And Kevin had realized that that was the moment all his life had been aimed at Impression. He'd seen his older brother Impress, and his second oldest sister, and three of the four cousins currently riders. From the moment he was Searched out, part of him had been sure-sure-sure, with all the fervour of an adolescent that he would Impress favourably. The negative side of his' personality had perversely suggested that he'd be left standing on the hot sands and he'd never live down such a humiliating experience. In conclusion,' S'nan said let me assure this Gathering that the Weyrs are ready." \Vith that, he sat down to an approving applause. I hope that the Holds are too9' Not his voice end on an up-note but he raised' . only did his thick brows questioningly at the Fort Holder. Paulin stood up again, shuffling until he found the right clipboard and cleared his throat. I have readiness reports in from all but two major Holds,' and he glanced first at Franco, Lord Holder of Nerat, and then tilted his head towards Chalkin. I know you received the forms to fill in.. The tall, thin bronze-skinned Neratian raised his hand. I told you the problem we have with vegetation, Paulin and we're still trying to keep it under control . . . He grimace. Not easy with the excellent weather we've been having and the restriction against chemical deterrents. But I can assure you that we'll keep at it. Otherwise, we have emergency roofing for the seedling nurseries and sufficient stores of viable seeds to replant when that's feasible. We're also continuing our research into dwarfing plants for indoor propagation. All minor holders are fully aware of the problems and are con plying Everyone's signed up for the ground-crew course. Paulin made a notation, nodding. Agriculture's still working on the ?roblem of an inhibitor for your tropical weed types, Fran. I hope so. Stuff grows out of pure sand without any cultivation at all. Then Paulin turned to Chalkin who had been polishing his rings with every evidence of boredom. I've had nothing at all from you, Lord Chalkin of Bitra,' Paulin said. Oh, there's plenty of time A report was required by this date, Chalkin,' Paulin reminded, pushing the issue. Chalkin shrugged. You all can play that game if you wish, but I do not believe that Thread is going to fall next spring, so why should I bother my people with unnecessary tasks..." He wasn't able to finish his sentence for the acrimonious reactions from everyone at the table. Now see here, Chalkin - -. Hey, wait a bleeding minute . . "Just where do you get off. Bastom was on his feet with indignation. Chalkin pointed one thick be ringed finger at the Tillek Holder. The Holds are autonomous, are they not? Is that not guaranteed in the Charter?" Chalkin demanded, rounding on Paulin. In ordinary times, yes,' Paulin answered, waving a hand to the others to be quiet. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the angry remarks and protests. However, with . This Thread of yours coming. So you say, but there's no proof. . . Chalkin said, grinning smugly. Proof? What more proof do you need?" Paulin demanded. This planet is already feeling the perturbation of the rogue planet Chalkin dismissed that with a shrug. Winter brings bad storms, volcanoes do erupt You can't so easily dismiss the fact that the planet is becoming more visible . . Pooh. That doesn't mean anything . So,' and Paulin again had to quell angry murmurs to be heard, you discount entirely the advice of our forebears? The massive evidence that they left for our guidance?" They left hysterical They were scarcely hysterical . . . Tashvi bellowed. And they coped with the emergency, and gave us specific guidelines to follow when the planet came back. And how to calculate a Pass. Hold it, hold it,' Paulin shouted, raising both arms to restore order. I'm Chair, I'll remind you,' and he glared at Tashvi until the Telgar Lord resumed his seat and the others had quietened down. What kind of proof do you require, Lord Chalkin?" he asked in a very reasonable tone of voice. Thread falling..." someone muttered, and subsided before he could be identified. Well, Chalkin?" said Paulin. Some proof that Thread will fall. A report from this AI VAS we've all heard about Landing is under tons of volcanic ash,' Paulin said, and then recognized S'nan's urgent signal to speak. Nine expeditions have been mounted to investigate the installation at Landing and retrieve information from the AI VAS S'nan said in his usual measured tones. As he spoke he searched for and found a sheaf of plastic and held it up. These are the reports. And?" Chalkin demanded, obviously enjoying the agitation he had aroused. We have been unable to locate the administration building in which the AI VAS was located . Why not?" Chalkin insisted. I remember seeing tapes of Landing prior to the first Threadfall . . -. Then you will appreciate the size of the task, said S'nan. Especially since the blanket of volcanic ash covers the entire plateau and we have not been able to locate any landmark by which we could judge the position of the administration building. And since the housing was similar, it's difficult to establish where we are when we have dug one out of twenty feet of ash and debris. Therefore we have not been able to establish the location of the building. Try again,' Chalkin said, turning his back to S'nan. So you have done nothing at all to prepare your Hold for the onslaught?" Paulin asked calmly, reasonably. Chalkin shrugged. I don't perceive a need to waste time and effort.. And money murmured the original heckler. Precisely. Marks are hard enough to come by to waste them on the off-chance... OFF-CHANCE?" Tashvi erupted out of his chair. You'll have a revolt on your hands. I doubt that,' Chalkin said with a sly smile. Because you haven't bloody seen fit to warn your holders?" Tashvi demanded. Lord Telgar,' Paulin said repressively, I'm Chair." He turned back to Chalkin. If the rest of us, however misguidedly, do believe in the fore warnings - backed by irrefutable astronomical evidence of an imminent Pass - how can you deny them?" Chalkin's grin was patronizing. A space-borne organism? That drops on a large planet and eats everything it touches? Why wasn't Pern totally destroyed during previous visitations? Why is it every two hundred years? How come the Exploration Team which did a survey of the planet before it was released to our ancestors to colonize . . . how come they didn't see any evidence? Ah, no,' Chalkin said, flicking the notion away from him with his be ringed hands, ridiculous!" My calculations were confirmed by - Clisser said, feeling that he was being maligned. There was evidence of Threadfall,' Tashvi said, bouncing once more to his feet. I've read the report. There were hundreds of circles where vegetation was just starting to grow... Inconclusive,' Chalkin said with another flap of a hand. Could have been caused by one of the many fungus growths. Well then, when this inconclusive evidence comes dropping out of the skies onto your Hold, don't bother us,' Bastom said. Or come crying to my Hold for help, added Bridgely, completely disgusted by Chalkin's attitude. You may be sure of that,' Chalkin said and, with a mocking bow to Paulin, he left the Hall with no further word. What are we going to do about him?" Bridgely asked, because sure as night follows day, he will come running for aid to Franco and me. There is provision in the Charter,' Paulin began. Jamson of the High Reaches stared with wide and disbelieving eyes at Paulin. Only if he believes in the Charter . . . Bastom said. Oh, Chalkin believes in the Charter all right,' Paulin said sardonically. The patent conferring the title of "Lord Holder" on the original major northern Stakeholders is what gives his line the right to Hold. And he's already used the Charter to substantiate his autonomous position. I wonder if he also knows the penalty for failing to prepare his Hold. That constitutes a major breach of the trust . Who trusts Chalkin?" Jamson put in. the trust which holders rest in the Lord of their Hold in return for their labour,' finished Paulin. Ha!" said Bridgely. I don't think much of his holders either. Useless lot on the whole. Most of em kicked out of other holds for poor management or plain laziness." Bitra's badly managed, too. Generally we have to return a full half of his tithings,' M'shall said. Half the grain is mouldy and timber unseasoned, hides improperly cured and often rancid. It's a struggle every quarter to receive decent supplies from him. Really?" Paulin asked, jotting down notes. I hadn't realized he shorted you on tithes." M'Shall shrugged. Why should you know? It's our problem. We keep at him. We'll have to keep at him over this, too, you know. Can't let him away with a total disregard for the upcoming emergency. Not every holder in Bitra's useless, Bridgely." Bridgely shrugged. Good apples in every basket as well as bad. But I'd really hate to have to cope with the problem come springtime and Threadfalls. Benden's too near Bitra for my peace of mind." So what is the penalty for what Chalkin's doing? Or, rather not doing?" Franco asked. Impeachment,' Paulin said flatly. Impeachment!" Jamson was aghast. I didn't know Article Fourteen, Jamson,' said Paulin, "Dereliction of Duty by Lord Holder". Can you give me a print-out on that, Clisser? Perhaps we all should have our memory refreshed on that point. Certainly,' and the Head of the College made a note in his folder. In your hands tomorrow. So your system's still working?" Tashvi asked. Copies of the most important official documents were made in quantity by my predecessor,' Clisser replied with a relieved smile. I've a list if you need any. . . handwritten but legible." Paulin cleared his throat, calling them to order. So, my Lords Holder, should we proceed against Chalkin?" You've heard him. What option do we have?" M'shall wanted to know, glancing about the table. Now, wait a minute,' began Jamson, scowling. I'd want to have incontrovertible proof of his inefficiency as a Lord Holder as well as his failure to respond to this emergency. I mean, impeachment's an extreme step." Yes, and Chalkin'll do everything he can to slide out of it, Bastom said cynically. Surely there's a trial procedure for such a contingency?" asked Jamson, looking anxiously about. You certainly can't act without allowing him the chance to respond to any charges. In the matter of impeachment I believe that a unanimous agreement of all major Holders and Leaders is sufficient to deprive him of his position,' Paulin declared. Are you sure?" Jamson asked. If he isn't, I am,' Bridgely said, bringing one fist down firmly on the table. His spouse, Lady Jane, nodded her head emphatically. I haven't wanted to bring it up in a Council before,' Bridgely began. He's very difficult to confront at the best of times,' said Irene, setting her lips in a thin line of frustrations long borne. Bridgely nodded sharply in her direction and continued. He's come as near to bending, or breaking for that matter. what few laws we do have on Pern. Shady dealings, punitive contracts, unusual harsh conditions for his holders We've had some refugees from Bitra with stories that would curl your hair,' Jane, Benden's Lady Holder said, wringing her hands in distress. I've kept records . Have you?" Paulin said. I'd very much like to see them. Autonomy is a privilege and a responsibility, but not a licence for authoritarianism or despotic rule. Certainly autonomy does not give anyone the right to deprive his constituents of basic needs. Such as protection from Threadfall. I don't know about going so far as to impeach him. I mean, such an extreme remedy could have a demoralizing effect on all the Holds,' said Jamson, his reluctance deepening. Possibly . . . Paulin began. Not being prepared for Thread will certainly demoralize Bitra!' Tashvi said. Paulin held up his hand as he turned to M'shall. Please give me specific instances in which Bitra Hold has failed to supply the Weyr. Jane, I'd like to look at the records you've kept." I've some, too,' Irene added. Paulin nodded and looked round the table. Since his dereliction of primary duty in regard to preparation against Threadfall could jeopardize not only his own Hold but that of his neighbours, I feel we must examine the problem as quickly as possible and indict him..." Jamson jammed up an arm in protest, but Paulin held up a placatory hand. If, that is, we do find just cause to do so. Just now, he was acting as if he'd had too much of Hegmon's new wine. Ha!" was Irene of Benden's immediate response, a cynical reaction echoed by others around the table. We cannot allow personal feelings to colour this matter,' Paulin said firmly. Wait til you read my notes, was her wry answer. And mine,' added Bridgely. But who could take his place?" Jamson asked, now querulous with anxiety. Not a task I'd like so soon to Thread,' Bastom admitted. Paulin grimaced. But it may have to be done." Ah, if I may,' and Clisser raised his hand. The Charter requires us to find a suitable candidate from the incumbent's Bloodline .. . he began. He has relatives?" Bridgely asked, mimicking surprise and consternation. I believe so,' Franco said, beyond his children. An uncle If they're of the same Blood as Chalkin, would that be an improvement?" Tashvi wanted to know. They do say a new broom sweeps clean,' Irene remarked. I heard that Chalkin did his uncle out of succession by giving him an isolated hold . . .  He got him out of the way fast enough, that's sure,' said Bridgely. Some mountain hold, back of beyond." All of Bitra is back of beyond,' Azury of Boll remarked, grinning. A replacement is not the most immediate concern,' Paulin said, taking charge again, if we can persuade Chalkin that all of us can't be wrong about Threadfall." Zulaya this time snorted at that unlikelihood. He'll admit he's wrong only when Thread is eating him . . . which might solve the problem in the most effective way. Bitra's in the path of the first Fall. Remiss as Chalkin appears to be,' Jamson said, Bitra Hold may be better off with than without him. You don't learn the management of a Hold overnight, you know. Paulin gave the High Reaches Lord a long look. That is very true, but if he hasn't even told his people that Thread is coming and he opened up his hands to show dismay at such an omission. That's a dereliction of duty right there. His prime duty and the primary reason for having a Leader during a crisis. As a group, we also have a responsibility to be sure each of us is performing duties inherent to our rank and position." Zulaya shrugged. It'd serve him right to be caught out in the first Fall. Yes, well,' and Paulin rattled papers. I'll accept reports of malfeasance and irregularities in his conduct of Bitra Hold. We'll do this properly, gathering evidence and making a full report on the problem. Now, let's finish up today's agenda. Kalvi, you wish to broach the subject of new mines?" The lean hawk-nosed engineer sprang to his feet. I sure do. We've got fifty years of Fall and we're going to need more ore: ore that's closer to the surface than the Telgar deposits. Thought they would last us a millennium,' Bridgely of Benden said. Oh, there's certainly more ore down the main shafts, but it's not as accessible as these mountain deposits which could be worked more efficiently." He unrolled an opaque plastic map of the Great Western range where he had circled an area beyond Ruatha's borders. Here! High-grade ore, and almost waiting to leap into carts. We'll need that quality if we're to replace flame-thrower equipment. And we'll have to. He said that with a degree of resignation. I've the personnel trained and ready to move up there - which I'd like to do to get the mines going before Threadfall starts. All I need is your OK. You're asking to start a hold up there? Or just a mine?" asked Paulin. Kalvi scratched the side of his nose and grinned. Well, it'd be a long way to travel after the shift is over, especially if the dragons are all busy fighting Thread." He unrolled another diagram. One reason I've backed this site is that there's a good cave system available for living quarters as well as coal nearby for processing the ore. The finished ingots could be shipped down river. There were murmurs among the others as the project was discussed. Good thing Chalkin left,' Bridgely remarked. He's got those mines in Steng Valley he's been trying to reactivate. They're unsafe,' Kalvi said scornfully. I surveyed them myself, and we'd have to spend too much time shoring up shafts and replacing equipment. The ore's second rate, too. There isn't time to restore the mine . . . much less argue with Chalkin over a contract. You know how he can be, haggling over minor details for weeks before he'll make a decision." He contorted his long face into a grimace. If you,' and he turned to the others at the table, grant this permission, I'll have a chance to noise it about the Gather this evening and see who'd be interested in going along in support capacity and necessary crafts." I'll second it,' said Tashvi magnanimously, raising his hand. Good. Moved and seconded. Now, all in favour of the formation of a mining hold?" Hands shot up and were dutifully counted by Paulin. Chalkin's going to say this was rigged,' Bastom remarked caustically, and that we drove him out of the meeting before the subject came up. So?" Paulin said. No-one asked him to leave and he has a copy of the agenda same as everyone else." He brought his fist down on the table. Motion carried. Tell your engineer he may start his project. High Reaches Weyr,' and he turned to G'don. Telgar,' and he included K'vin now, can you supply transport?" Both Weyrleaders agreed. If a new hold was to be establislied, as many riders as possible from their Weyrs should become familiar with its landmarks. There won't be that much extra to protect against Threadfall,' Kalvi said, with a grin for the dragon riders It's all underground or within the cliff caverns. We'll use hydroponics for fresh food from the start." Any more new business?" Paulin enquired. Clisser raised his hand, was acknowledged and stood, glancing at the assembled: falling into his lecture mode, K'vin thought. Lord Chalkin's attitude may not be that unusual,' he began, startling them into attention to his words. At least, not in times to come. We, here and now, are not too distanced from the events of the First Pass. We have actual visual records from that time with which to check on the approach of the rogue planet. We know it is a rogue because we know, from the excellent and exhaustive reports done by Captains Keroon and Tillek, that the planet was unlikely to have emerged from our sun. Its orbit alone substantiates that theory since it is not on the same ecliptic al plane as the rest of Rukbat's satellites. I am assiduous in training at least six students in every class in the rudiments of astronomy and the use of the sextant, as well as being certain that they have the requisite mathematics to compute declination and right ascension and figure accurately the hour circle of any star. We still have three usable telescopes with which to observe the skies, but we once had more." He paused. We are, as I'm sure we all must honestly admit, losing more and more of the technology bequeathed us by our ancestors. Not through mishandling,' and he raised a hand against objections, but from the attritions of age and an inability, however much we may strive to compensate, to reach back to the same technical level our ancestors enjoyed." Kalvi grimaced in reluctant agreement to that fact. Therefore, I suggest that we somehow, in some fashion, with what technology we have left at our disposal, leave as permanent and indestructible a record as possible for future generations. I know that some of us,' and Clisser paused, glancing significantly to the door through which Chalkin had so recently passed, entertain the notion that our ancestors were mistaken in thinking that Threadfall will occur whenever the Red Planet passes Pern. But we can scarcely ignore the perturbations already obvious on the surface of our planet the extreme weather, the volcanic eruptions, the other cosmic clues. Should it so happen in centuries to come that too many doubt - not wishing to destroy a flourishing economy and happy existence - that Thread will return, all that we have striven to achieve, all we have built with our bare hands,' and dramatically he lifted his, all we have around us today,' and he gestured towards the music faintly heard outside the Hall, would perish. The denials were loud. Ah,' and he held one hand over his head, but it could happen. Lord Chalkin is proof of that. We've already lost so much of our technology. Valuable and skilled men and women we could ill-afford to lose because of their knowledge and skills have succumbed to disease or old age. We must have a fail-safe against Thread! Something that will last and remind our descendants to prepare, be ready, and to survive. Is there any chance we could find that administration building then?" Paulin asked S'nan. Too close to Threadfall now,' M'shall answered. And it's going into the hot season down there which makes digging anything enervating. However, I most emphatically agree with Clisser. We need some sort of a safeguard. Something that would prove to doubters like Chalkin that Thread isn't just a myth our ancestors thought up." But we keep records . . . said Laura of Ista Weyr. How much plasfilm do you have left?" Paulin asked pointedly. I know Fort's stock is running low. And you know all that happened to our Repository." True. But we've paper . . . and she looked over at the Telgar Holders, Tashvi and Salda. Look, how can we estimate how much of forestry acres will survive Threadfall?" Tashvi asked, raising his hands in doubt. I've the timber jacks working non-stop, cutting, and the mill's turning out as much lumber and pulp as it can." You know we'll do our best to protect the forests,' K'vin said, though privately he wondered how good their best could be since even one Thread burrow could devastate a wide swath of timbered land in minutes. Of course you will,' Salda said warmly, and we will stockpile as much paper as we can beforehand. Old rags are always welcome." Then her expression sobered. But I don't think any of us can know what will or will not survive. Tarvi Andiyar's survey when he took Hold indicated that most of the slopes were denuded. Ten years before Threadfall ceased, he had seedlings in every corner of the Hold, ready to plant out. We were just lucky that natural succession also occurred in the three decades after the end of First Pass." That is yet another item we must record for future generations,' Clisser said. The ultimate how-to,' put in Mari of High Reaches. I beg pardon?" What to do when Threadfall has Passed is even more important than what to do while it's happening,' she said, as if that should be obvious. We've got to first survive fifty years . . . Salda began. Let's get back to the subject,' said Paulin, rising to his feet. The Chair concurs that we ought to have some permanent, indestructable, unambiguous, simple way to anticipate the rogue planet's return. Has anyone any ideas?" We can engrave metal plates and put them in every Weyr, Hold and Hall where they're too obvious to be ignored,' Kalvi suggested. And inscribe the sextant settings that indicate the Pass." So long as there's a sextant, and someone to use it accurately,' Lord Bastom said, that's fine. But what happens when the last of them is broken?" They're not that complicated to make,' Kalvi replied. What if there's no-one trained in its use,' Salda put in. My fleet captains use sextants daily,' Bastom said. The instruments are invaluable on the sea." Mathematics is a base course for all students,' Clisser added, not just fishermen." You have to know the method to get the answers you need,' said Corey, the Head Medic, speaking for the first time. And know when to use it., Her profession was struggling to maintain a high standard as more and more equipment became unusable, and unusual procedures became erudite. There has to be some way to pass on that vital information to future generations,' said Paulin, looking first at Clisser and then scanning the faces at the table. Let's have a hard think. Etching on metal's one way . . . and prominently placing tablets in every Weyr and Hold so they can't be stored away and forgotten." A sort of Rosetta Stone?" Clisser's tone was more statement than query. What's that?" Bridgely asked. Clisser had a habit, which annoyed some folk, of dropping odd references into conversations: references with which only he was familiar. It would lead to long lectures from him if anyone gave him the chance. On Earth, in the late eighteenth century, a stone with three ancient languages was discovered which gave the clue to translating those languages. We shall, of course, keep our language pure We're back to etching again,' said Corey, grinning. If it's the only way . . . Clisser began and then frowned. No, there has to be some fail-safe method. I'll investigate options. All right then, Clisser, but don't put the project aside,' Paulin said. I'd rather we had a hundred sirens, bells and whistles going off than no warning at all." Clisser grinned slowly. The bells and whistles are easy enough. It's the siren that will take time. All right then,' and Paulin looked around the table. Toe-tapping dance music was all too audible and the younger holders and weyrfolk were plainly restless. No more new business?" He didn't wait for an answer but used the gavel to end the meeting. That's all for now. Enjoy yourselves, folks." The speed with which the Hall emptied suggested that that was what all intended to do. Gather at Fort Cliss, what on earth possessed you?" Sheledon demanded, glowering. He was head of the Arts faculty at the College and constantly jealous of what free time he had in which to compose. Well,' and Clisser looked away from Sheledon's direct and accusing glare, we do have more records and are more familiar with the techniques of accessing them than anyone else. Information and training are what this College was established to provide." Our main function,' and Danja took up the complaint she wanted spare time in which to work with her string quartet, is to teach youngsters who would rather ride dragons or acquire many klicks of Pernese real estate to use the wits they were born with. And to brainwash enough youngsters to go out and teach whatever they know to our ever widely-spreading population. Dance music swirled about them, but Sheledon and Danja IF F were so incensed that they seemed oblivious to the rhythms that were causing the other three at their table to keep time with foot or hand. Danja shot Lozell a peevish look and he stopped rattling fingers callused from harp strings. I don't think it'll be that hard to find some way to indicate a celestial return,' he said in an attempt to appease the wrath of Sheledon and Danja. It isn't the "hard" that bothers me,' Danja said acidly, but when will we have the time?" She stabbed her finger at the as-yet-unfinished extension to the teaching facility. Particularly since there is a time limit,' and she shot another dirty look at Clisser. Winter Solstice." Oh,' and Lozell grimaced. Good point." We're all working every hour we can spare from classes on what's urgent right now,' Danja went on, gesturing dramatically and pacing up and down the length of their table. While Sheledon closed in on himself when threatened, Danja exploded into action. Now her nervous movements knocked the chair on which she had placed her violin and she reacted, as quickly, to keep the valuable instrument from falling to the cobbles. She gave Lozell a second nasty look, as if he had been responsible. Sheledon reached across and took violin and bow from her, putting them very carefully on the table which had been cleared of all but wine glasses. Absently he mopped a wine spill near the precious violin, one of the few usable relics from Landing days. He gave it a loving pat while Danja continued. Like today,' she said, resuming her pacing, we taught in the morning, managed to eat something before we spent an afternoon painting so that there will be some finished rooms for the summer term. We had five minutes to change and even then we missed the fly-past which I, for one,' and she paused to jab her thumb into her sternum, wanted to see. We've played two sets,' she went on earnestly, and will undoubtedly still be playing when the sun rises, and tomorrow will be a repeat of today except no Gather, so we get a good night's rest to prepare us for more of the above, except maybe get a little work done on next term. Which starts in a week, and then we'll have no time at all since we now have to prepare the teachers who'll be graduated to carry The Word to the outer extremities of the continent." She gestured eastward in a histrionic fashion, then flounced down on the chair the violin had occupied. So how are we going to find time to do yet more research, Clisser?" We always do find the time,' Clisser said, his quiet rejoinder a subtle criticism of her rant. Use it as a history class project?" suggested Lozell brightly. There you have the answer,' said Bethany who had merely, as was her habit, watched the fireworks Danja was so good at sending up. My juniors could use an independent project. So long as we have power to run the library,' Danja added sourly. We will, we will,' Clisser said, with bright encouragement. Kalvi had his engineers up on the heights during the fly-past working on the sun panels. They'll hook them up to the main banks tomorrow. Other people worked today, you know. Well, that's a big consolation,' said Danja acidly. Clisser refilled her glass. -And we'll need some catchy tunes and good lyrics, too, I should think. Something to teach students from a very early age so that they learn all the signs of a Pass before they learn to ask questions about it." "One and one is two, two and two are four?" Danja sang the old multiplying song, then grinned wryly. The song remains an effective teaching aid,' Clisser said, filling his glass. She 1, would you put on your composer's hat and whip up some simple effective tunes?" Sheledon nodded enthusiastically. I've been saying for years that we ought to incorporate more basic stuff into a musical format. Jemmy's good at little popular airs." Most of his songs were geared to show off the talent of his soprano spouse, Sydra, who taught history and, in her spare time, was chronicling the early years of the colony. Bethany's face lit up with a great smile. Jemmy was a favourite pupil of hers, and she was his staunchest champion. Even Danja looked mollified. So,' Clisser went on, having solved one of his immediate problems, what shall we do in the next set?" Just like that?" Danja demanded. "What'll we do in this set?" Clisser, will you get real!' Clisser looked hurt. Bethany leaned over and patted his hand, smiling encouragingly. What did you mean by that, Danja?" Clisser asked. Don't you realize what a huge responsibility you just so casually.. . and Danja lifted wide her arms, flinging her hands skyward in exasperation, laid on us all?" Nothing we can't solve, dear,' Bethany said in her gentle manner. With a little thought and time. Back to time again. Do we have time?" Lozell was back in the discussion. Especially if the winter's even half as bad as it was last year . . . and it's supposed to be, with that damned Red Planet leering down on us... how are we going to cope?" We will. We always do,' Sheledon said with a sigh of resignation. Paulin will help us out. And certainly the Weyrs do." Danja glared at him. We've changed tunes, haven't we? I thought you thought we didn't have time." Sheledon shrugged diffidently. I think Lozell's idea of making a survey a class project will solve that problem. And, if Jemmy can whistle up some lyrics, I can certainly churn out some tunes. Or maybe Jemmy can do both in his spare time." Sheledon's face softened into a wry grin. He had had a tussle with himself, not to be jealous of Jemmy whose brilliance was multi-faceted. Though he wasn't officially graduated' from the Hall, he already ran several smaller study groups and seemed able to do a bit of everything - on a high level. The consummate Jack of all Trades, Clisser called him. And what if, by leaving it to the student body - who are, as most students, indifferent researchers - the best notion is missed?" Danja asked. That's why we're teachers, dear,' said Bethany. To be sure they don't miss an obvious solution. They can at least save us having to sort through pounds of material and present us with the most viable options. We can put Jemmy in charge; he reads the fastest and his eyes are younger. Just then, the instrumentalists on the stage wound up their last number and received an enthusiastic ovation from both the sweating dancers and the onlookers drinking at the tables. They filed off the stage. All right, what set do we do, Clisser?" Sheledon asked, tossing off the last of his wine as he got to his feet. Those seniors did a lot of fast dance music,' Clisser said. Let's give everyone a chance to catch their breaths and do some slow stuff . . . the old traditionals, I think. Start with "Long and Winding Road" - Put everyone in a sentimental mood." Hmmm... then we can get some supper while the juniors do what they so erroneously call "music",' said Danja, who had considerable contempt for the contemporary loud and diatonic musical fad. Can't please everyone all the time,' Clisser said, collecting his guitar. He drew back Bethany's chair for her and offered her an arm. Smiling in her gentle way at the courtesy, she picked up the flute in its worn hard-case, her recorders in their leather sleeves and the little reed whistle that had won its maker a prize that year. It had a particularly sweet, clear tone that young Jemmy had been trying to reproduce with other reeds. Then she limped forward, seemingly oblivious to her clubbed foot and awkward gait, her head high, her gaze directed ahead of her. Jemmy joined them from his table, automatically taking Bethany's flute case from her. He was drummer for their group, though he had been playing guitar with others. Unprepossessing in physical appearance, with pale hair and skin and oversized features, he was self-effacing, indifferent to his academic achievements. While not in the least athletic, he had won the long-distance races in the Summer Games for the last three years. He did not relate well, however, to his peer group. They don't think the same way I do,' was his diffident self-appraisal. That was, of course, accurate since he had tested off the scale of the standard aptitude tests given prospective scholars. His family, fishers at Tillek Hold, didn't understand him at all and at one point thought him retarded. At fourteen he had followed his siblings into training in the family occupation. He lasted three voyages. Though he had proven himself an able navigator, he had had such constant motion sickness - never acquiring sea legs' - that he had been useless as a deck-hand: a source of much embarrassment to his family. Captain Kizan had interested himself in the lad and recommended the boy be trained as a teacher, and sent Jemmy to Fort Hold for evaluation. Clisser had joyfully accepted him - finding such an avid learner was a real boost to his morale. And, when Clisser had seen how Jemmy galloped through even the hardest lessons, he had set up an independent study programme for him. Although Jemmy had perfect pitch, he couldn't sing and started playing instruments to make up for that lack in himself. There was nothing he couldn't play, given a few hours of basic training. Although his family, and indeed the Lord Holder Bastom, too, had expected him to return to Tillek to teach, Clisser had argued hard that anyone could teach the basics to hold children: he would supply a suitably trained candidate. But Jemmy must be allowed to continue at the College Hall, benefiting the entire continent. What no-one at the Hall mentioned beyond their most private sessions was that Jemmy seemed intuitively to know how to fill in the gaps left by improper copying or damaged records. His notations, short and concise, were models of lucidity. The College could not afford to do without his skills and intelligence. He wasn't a good teacher, being frustrated by mental processes slower than his own, but he could, and did, produce manuals and guides that enhanced the basic texts the settlers had brought with them. Jemmy translated Earth' into Pern' If his peer group did not enjoy his company, he enjoyed that of his mentors and was fast outstripping all of them in knowledge and practical applications. It was also well known if tacitly ignored, that he idolized Bethany. She was consistently kind and encouraging to everyone, but refused to accept any partner. She had long since decided never to inflict her deformity on offspring and refused any intimacy, even a childless one. Clisser wondered, though, as he and Bethany made their sedate way to the stage, if Jemmy might not breach the wall of her virginity. He was certain that Bethany cared more for the Tillek lad than anyone else in the thirty years he had known her - student and teacher. She was a lovely, gentle woman; she deserved to be loved and love in return. Since there were ways of preventing conception, her prime concern could be taken care of. Clisser thought the age difference was immaterial. And Jemmy desperately needed the balance that a fully rounded life experience would give him. Clisser and Jemmy provided support for Bethany to ascend the un railed steps to the stage and then, with a swirl of the long skirts that covered the built-up shoe she wore, she settled herself in her chair. She placed her flute case and the recorders where she wanted them, and the little reed flute in the music stand. Not that this group of musicians required printed sheets to read from, but the other groups did. Danja lifted her fiddle to her chin, bow poised, and looked at Jemmy who hummed an A' with his perfect pitch for her to tune her strings. Sheledon softly strummed his guitar to check its tuning and Lozell ran an arpeggio on his standing harp. The continent's one remaining piano - his preferred instrument - was undergoing repairs to the hammers: they had not yet managed to reproduce quite the same sort of felt that had been used originally. Clisser nodded at Jemmy, who did a roll on his hand drum to attract attention and then, on Clisser's downbeat, they began their set. It was several days before Clisser had a chance to discuss the project with Jemmy. I've wondered why we didn't use the balladic medium to teach history,' Jemmy replied. It isn't history we'll be setting to music. Oh yes, it is,' Jemmy had contradicted him in the flat and tactless way he had. It had taken Clisser time to get used to it. Well, it will be when the next generation gets it - and the next one after that. That's a point, of course. Jemmy hummed something, but broke off and sprang across to the table where he grabbed a sheet of paper, turning it to the unused side. He slashed five lines across it, added a clef and immediately began to set notes down. Clisser was fascinated. Oh,' Jemmy said offhandedly as his fingers flew up and down the lines, I've had this tune bugging me for months now. It's almost a relief to put it down on paper now that I've a use for it., He marked off another measure, the pen hovering above the paper only briefly before he was off again. It can be a show piece anyhow. Start off with a soprano - boy, of course, setting the scene. Then the tenors come in - they'll be the dragon riders of course, and the baritones Lord Holders, with a few basses to be the Professionals . . each describing his duty to the ....... then a final chorus, s.a.t.b., a reprise of the first verse, all Pern confirming what they owe the dragons. Yes, that'll do nicely for one. Clisser knew when he wasn't needed and left the room, smiling to himself. Now, if Bethany was right and this term's students could perform the research satisfactorily, he could make good on his blithe promise to the Council. He did hope that the computers would last long enough for a comprehensive search. They had got so erratic lately that their performance was suspect at most times. Some material was definitely scrambled and lost among files. And no-one knew how to solve the problem of replacement parts. Of course, the pcs were so old and decrepit, it was truly a wonder that they had lasted as long as they had. Was there any point these days in holding a course on computer electronics? Which thought reminded him that he had interviews with two sets of parents who were insisting that their offspring be put in the computer course since that was the most prestigious of those offered. And the one involving the least work, since there were so few computers left. Where would they practise the skills they learned? Clisser wondered. Furthermore, neither of the two students concerned had the aptitude to work with mechanical objects; they just thought it was what they wanted. There were always a few cases like that in an academic year. And one set of Holder parents who did not like their daughter associating with lesser breeds without the law' . . . as Sheledon put it. As if there was room, or facilities, for more than one teachers' school. Or the private tutors some Holders felt should be supplied them because of their positions. Ha! As it was, the peripatetic teachers were going all year long, trying to cover the basics with children in the far-flung settlements. Well, maybe one day they could site a second campus - was that the word? - on the eastern coast. Of course, with Threadfall coming, he'd have to revise all the schedules as well as instruct his travellers on how to avoid getting killed by the stuff. He had seen footage - when the projector still worked - of actual Threadfall. He shuddered. Accustomed as he had been all his life to the prospect of the menace, he still didn't like the inevitability. The reality was nearly on them. The Weyrleaders could waffle on about how well prepared Hold and Weyr were, with dragon strength at max, and ground crews and equipment organized, but did anyone really know what it would be like? He swore under his breath as he made his way to the rooms that still needed to be completed to receive occupants in five days. He'd work on the syllabus on his lunch break. A sudden thought struck him so that he halted, foot poised briefly above the next step. What they really needed was a totally new approach to education on Pern! What was the point of teaching students subjects now rendered useless here on Pern? Like computer programming and electronic maintenance? What good did it do the Pernese boys and girls to know the old geographic and political subdivisions of Terra? Useless information. They'd never go IF there! Such matters did not impinge on their daily lives. What was needed was a complete revision of learning priorities, suitable to those who were firmly and irrevocably based on this planet. Why did anyone NOW need to know the underlying causes of the Nathi Space War? No-one here was going to get in space - even the dragons were limited to distance which they could travel before they were in oxygen debt. Why not study the spatial maps of Pern and forget those of Earth and its colonies? Study the Charter and its provisions as applicable to the Pernese citizenry, rather than prehistoric governments and societies? Well, some of the more relevant facts could be covered in the course to show how the current governmental system, such as it was, had been developed. But there was so much trivia - no wonder his teachers couldn't get through the lessons. Small wonder the students got bored. So little of what they were presently required to learn had any relevance to the life they lived and the planet they inhabited. History should really begin with Landing on Pern well, some nodding acquaintance with the emergence of homo sapiens, but why deal with the aliens which Earth's exploratory branch had discovered when there was little chance of them arriving in the Rukbat system? And further, Clisser decided, taken up with the notion, we should encourage specialized training - raising agriculture and veterinary care to the prestige of computer sciences. Breeding to Pernese conditions and coping with Pernese parasites was far more important than knowing what had once bothered animals back on Earth. Teach the miners and metal workers where the spatial maps showed deposits of ores and what they were good for; teach not the history of art - especially since many of the slides of Masterpieces had now deteriorated to muddy blurs - but how to use Pernese pigments, materials, design and tailoring; teach the Great Currents, oceanography, fish-conservation, seamanship, naval engineering and meteorology to those who fished the waters . . . As to that, why not separate the various disciplines so that each student would learn what he needed to know, not a lot of basically useless facts, figures and theories? For instance, get Kalvi to take in. .. what was the old term ah, apprentices... take in apprentices to learn fabrication and metal-work? And there'd have to be a discipline for mining, as well as metal-working. One for weaving; farming; fishing. And one for teaching, too. Of course, education in itself was designed to teach you how to solve the problems that cropped up in daily living, but for speciali ties you could really slim down to the essential skills required by each. As it was, that sort of apprentice system was almost in place anyhow with parents either instructing their kids in the family's profession or getting a knowledgeable neighbour to do it. Kalvi had both sons now in supervisory capacities in his Telgar Works. And there should be provisions to save other kids, like Jemmy, and see that they were able to develop a potential not in keeping with their native hold's main business. Adminster a basic aptitude test to every child at six, and the more specific one at eleven or twelve, and be able to identify special abilities and place him or her where she could learn best from the people qualified to maximize the innate potential. Even in medicine, a new curriculum should be established, based on what was now available on Pern rather than what the First Settlers had had. Mind you, Corey was constantly regretting the lack of this or that medicine, or equipment and procedures that would have saved lives but were no longer available. Clisser snorted; too much time was spent bitching about what had been' and if only we still had' instead of making the best of what was available in the here and now. What was that old saying? Ours not to wonder what were fair in life But finding what may he, make it fair up to our means?" Well, he couldn't remember who had said it or to what it had applied. But the meaning definitely applied! Pern had great riches which were being ignored in the regret of the what had been'. Even Corey had to admit that the indigenous pharmacopoeia was proving to be sufficient for most common ailments, and even better in some cases now that the last of the carefully hoarded Earth chemicals were depleted. Basic concepts of maths, history, responsibility, duty, could indeed be translated into music, easier to transmit and memorize. Why, anyone who could strum an instrument could give initial instruction in holds, teach kids to read, write and do some figuring, and then let ffiem apply themselves to the nitty-gritty of their life's occupation. And music had always been important here. He put his foot down on the step, pleased with this moment's revelation. A whole new way of looking at the education and training of the young, and entirely suitable to the planet and its needs. He must really sit down and think it all through. . . when he found the time. His laugh mocked his grandiose ideas and yet, they'd had to revise and reform so many old concepts here on Pern: why not the method in which education was administered? Was that the word he wanted: administered? Like a medicine? He sighed He did wish that learning was not considered an unavoidable dose. Certainly someone like Jemmy proved that learning was enjoyable. But then, insatiable appetites like his for knowledge, for its own sake, were rare. Clisser trotted up the last of that flight of steps in considerably better humour. He'd find the time, by all that's still holy, he would. Late Autumn at Telgar Weyr Zulaya beamed at Paulin. Yes, she rather outdid herself, didn't she?" She turned to regard her queen fondly as the golden dragon hovered proprietorially over the fifty-one eggs which would, by all the signs, hatch some time this day. All morning dragons had conveyed in guests and candidates. Aren't the Weyrs over-producing a trifle?" Paulin asked. Benden and Ista Weyrs had also had Hatchings in the past month. He had lost two very promising holder lads to the Weyrs; a felt loss, as the boys could no longer journey easily between Hold and Weyr as riders were freer to travel, and to learn and practise other professions during an Interval. Frequent clutches are one of the sure-fire signs that there will be a Pass,' Zulaya said, obviously looking forward to the days when the dragons of Pern started the work for which they were engineered. Have you heard that song the College sent out?" Hmmm, yes, I have,' and Paulin grinned. In fact, I can't get it out of my mind. Clisser says they have several more to play for us tonight." Just music?" Paulin asked, scowling. It's a device we asked them for something permanent so that no-one can deny the imminence of a Pass." Zulaya patted his hand encouragingly. You can ask what progress he's made on that project." K'vin, coming up behind them, casually laid a hand on his Weyrwoman's shoulder, acting as proprietorially of her as her dragon was of her clutch. Amused, Paulin coughed into his hand and hurriedly excused himself. He's worried about that fail-safe,' Zulaya said, also amused by K'vin's show of jealousy but not about to remark on it. You're looking very beautiful in that new dress,' he said, eyeing it. Am I? Why, thank you, Kev,' she said, twisting her hips to make the skirt whirl. Which reminds me . . . and she held out a fold of the rich crimson patterned brocade which she had had made for this Hatching. Fredig suggested tapestries, hanging in every Weyr and Hold, depicting the return of the Red Star - with the formulae in the borders. Make an interesting design, certainly." Colours fade and fabrics certainly deteriorate We've some that graced houses in Landing. That Earth Moon scene Which was made, as I've been told, out of synthetic yarns which are more durable than what we have now cotton, linen and wool. And even they are looking worn and losing colour. I'll have them washed You'll have them thread-worn . - ooops,' and K'vin grinned at the pun. ... Which is not what is wanted but there's no reason, Kev, not to have a hundred different reminders - . - Something set in stone the Weyrleader said in a more sober tone. Even stones move - - Only prior to a Pass. Only how to perpetuate the critical information?" I think everyone's worrying too much. I mean, here we are,' and Zulaya gestured broadly to include the Hatching Ground and the Weyr around them. Why else have dragons? And Weyrs set apart to preserve them, if not for a very, very good reason? They're the planet's only sure defence." A sound - subliminal more than a real noise - alerted them. It issued from Meranath who reared to her hindquarters, spreading her broad wings; her eyes glowing brightly green and beginning to whirl with excitement. Ah, it starts,' Zulaya said, smiling in anticipation. -Oh, I love Hatchings!" Hand in hand, the two Weyrleaders raced to the entrance and called out the news, scarcely needed, for the Telgar dragons were already reacting to the queen's maternal croon with their deep masculine humming. The Weyr Bowl became active with dragons a-wing in excitement, flipping here and there on seemingly unavoidable collision courses: with the Weyrlingmaster herding the candidates forward: with parents and friends of the lucky boys and girls rushing across the hot sands to take their places in the amphitheatre: hustling to get the best seating for the Impression about to happen. K'vin sent Zulaya back to keep Meranath company as he urged people inside, checked the nervous white-clad candidates who had been halted in a clump near the entrance until the spectators were all seated. You've long enough to wait on the hot sands as it is,' T'dam, the Weyrlingmaster, told them. Singe your feet, you could, out there . All this time the humming was rising in volume: Meranath joined by all the other dragons in a chorus of tones that Sheledon - and others had tried to imitate but never quite succeeded. Meranath's throat was swollen with her sound, which continued unabated and seemingly without her needing to draw breath. Soon, as the volume increased, her chest and belly would begin to vibrate too, with the intensity of her humming. K'vin was aware of the usual response in himself, a jumble of emotions; a joy that threatened to burst his heart through his chest, pride, hope, fear, yearning - oddly enough, hunger was part of it - and a sadness that, on some occasions, could make him weep. Zulaya always wept at Hatchings - at least, until Impressions began. Then she was jubilant, picking up on her queen's acceptance of her clutch's partnering. In Fort Hold's storage, there were file boxes full of early psychological profiles about the effect of Hatching on riders, dragons and the new weyrlings. The bonding that occurred was of such complexity and depth that no other union could be compared with it: almost overwhelming in the initial moment of recognition, and certainly the most intense emotion the young candidates had ever experienced. Some youngsters had no trouble at all adapting to the intense and intrusive link: some suffered feelings of inadequacy and doubt. Every Weyr had its own compendium of information about what to do in such-and-such a situation. And every weyrling was assiduously trained and supported through the early months of the relationship until the Weyrleaders and Weyrlingmaster deemed he/ she was stable enough to take responsibility for her/ himself and her/ his dragon. But then, a rider was the dragon, and the dragon the rider, in a partnership that was so unwavering, its cessation resulted in suicide for the dragon who lost his mate. The unfortunate rider was as apt to take his life as not. If he lived, he was only half a man, totally bereft by his loss. Female riders were less apt to suicide; they at least had the option of sublimating their loss by having children. When the little fire-lizards, who had supplied the genetic material to bio-engineer the larger dragons, had still been available, a former male rider found some solace in such a companionship. Only three fire-lizard clutches had been found in Ista in the last five decades, though it was thought more might be found in the Southern Continent, but that quest had so far been futile. The vets had decided that some sort of odd disease had infected the creatures on northern warm beaches, reducing their numbers and/ or their clutches. Whatever the reason, no-one had fire-lizard companions any more. As soon as most of the guests had crossed the hot sands, T'dam allowed the candidates to make a loose circle around the eggs. There was no golden egg in this clutch - a circumstance which had both relieved and worried the Weyrleaders. They had five junior queens, which was quite enough for Telgar's low flight wing. In fact, there was no dearth of queens in any of the Weyrs, but there was safety in having enough breeders. Only five girls stood on the Hatching Ground vying to attract the attention of the greens. There should have been six, but one girl's family had refused to give her up on Search since they claimed a union had been arranged and they could not go back on that pledge. As K'vin thought that a good third or even half of this clutch might be greens, he hoped there'd be enough suitable lads' to impress the green hatchlings. His study of Thread fighting tactics also indicated that greens with male riders tended to be more volatile, apt to ignore their Weyrleaders' orders in the excitement of a Fall: in short, they tended to unnecessarily show off their bravery to the rest of the Weyr. On the other hand, the green dragons were valuable to a Weyr for their speed and agility even if they didn't have the stamina of the larger dragons. A careful wing leader alternated his green riders, resting each at least an hour during a Fall. There had been a monograph on the advantages of female over male green riders in Threadfall. Although the text allowed the reader to make his own decision, K'vin had fallen on the side of preferring females when Search provided them. Certainly their personalities were more stable and they posed fewer problems to the Weyrleaders. Young male green riders could go into emotional declines if they lost their weyrmates and be useless in Fall, sometimes even suiciding in their distress. On the other hand, since the greens were sexually very active, there was more danger of female riders becoming pregnant, unless they were extremely careful. Even spontaneous abortions due to the extreme cold of between required sensible convalescence. Taking a short dragon-ride' was now a euphemism for ending an unwanted pregnancy. Another good reason to have a few female green riders in the Weyr: less embarrassment. According to Zulaya, though, there had been few such terminations since she had become Weyrwoman. Probably due to the fact that too many holds had lost relatives to the last bad winter fever. Or possibly because everyone wanted to have enough children to extend their legitimate holdings or establish new ones. The draconic humming - what Clisser called a pre-birth lullaby was reaching an almost unendurable level, climaxing when the first egg cracked open. The spectators were exhibiting the usual excitability, jumping about, weeping, singing along with the dragons. They'd calm down, too, once the Hatching had begun. And it did. Three shells burst outwards simultaneously, fragments raining down on nearby eggs and causing them to crack as well. K'vin counted nine dragons, six of them wetly green, and revised his third' of greens closer to half. The hatchlings were so dangerous at this stage, ravenous from their encapsulation, and some of the nearer candidates hastily avoided the bumbling progress of the new-born. Two greens seemed headed for Weyrbred girls but the blonde from Ista, already noted in the Weyr for her quick wits, stepped beside one and Impression was made for both. Three of the other greens made for lads who had demonstrated homosexual preferences in their holds. The remaining green, after lunging out of her shell, stood, weaving her head back and forth, crying piteously. T'dam called out to the remaining girls to converge on her. The brunette girl from Ista made for her and instantly the little green covered the intervening distance, squeaking with relief. K'vin swallowed against the emotional lump in his throat: that instant of recognition always brought back the moment when he had experienced the shock of Impression with Charanth. And the glory of that incredibly loving mind linking with his: the knowledge that they were indissolubly one, heart, mind and soul. We are, are we not? Charanth said, his tone rough with the memory of that rapture. Despite the fact that Charanth, like the rest of the Weyr's dragons, was perched up along the ceiling, K'vin could hear' the dragon's sigh. Zulaya grinned up at K'vin, aware of what was taking place within him, tears flowing down her face as the high emotional level of the Hatching affected her. Absently K'vin thought that the glowing bulk of Meranath behind Zulaya made a great background for her beautiful new gown . . . red against gold. Then another dozen or so eggs split wide open and the raucous screeching of starving little drago nets reverberated back and forth on the Ground. There was a piercing quality to these screams like lost souls. As each hatchling met its rider, the scream broke off and a mellow croon began. That quickly segued into a piteous hungry' appeal which was almost more devastating than the earliest screech the weyrlings made. K'vin's stomach invariably went into empathetic hunger cramps. The noise of a Hatching, K'vin thought, was unique. Fortunately, because human eardrums were not designed to deal with such decibels and cacophony, it didn't last too long. He always felt siightly deafened - certainly ear sore - by the end of a Hatching. He was suddenly aware of another sort of babble and fuss going on just outside the Hatching Ground. He tried to see what was happening, but he saw T'dam striding over to investigate so K'vin turned his attention back to the pairing of the last few hatchlings, two browns and the last green. Two lads were homing on the green, desperate expressions on their faces. Abruptly the green turned from them and resolutely charged across the sands to the girl who had just entered. K'vin gave a double-take. There were only five girls, weren't they? Not that he wasn't glad to see another. And she was the one the green wanted, for the hatchling pushed aside the boy who tried to divert her. Then three men strode into the Ground, furious expressions on their faces, with T'dam trying to intercept their angry progress towards the lately Impressed green pair. DEBERA!" yelled the first man, reaching out and snatching her away from the green dragonet. That was his first mistake, K'vin thought, running across the sands to avert catastrophe. Damn it all. Why did this marvellous moment have to be interrupted so abruptly? Hatchings should be sacrosanct. Before K'vin could get there, the green reacted to the man's attempt to separate her from her chosen one. She reared, despite being not altogether sure of her balance on wobbly hindquarters. Extending her short forearms with claws unsheathed, she lunged at the man. K'vin had one look at the shock on his face, the fear on the girl's before the dragon had the man down and was trying to open her jaws wide enough to fit around his head. T'dam, being nearer, plunged to the rescue. The girl, Debera, was also trying to detach her dragonet from her father, for that's what she was calling him. Father! Father! Leave him alone, Morath. He can't touch me now I'm a dragon rider Morath, do you hear me?" Except that K'vin was very anxious that Morath might have already injured the man, he was close to laughing at this Debera's tone of authority. The girl had instinctively adopted the right attitude with her newly hatched charge. No wonder she'd been Searched and at some hold evidently not too far away. K'vin assisted Debera while T'dam pulled the fallen man out of the dragon's reach. Then his companions hauled him even further away while Morath continued to squeal and writhed to resume her attack. He would hurt you. He would own you. You are mine and I am yours and no-one comes between us, Morath was saying so ferociously that every rider heard her. Zulaya joined the group and, bending to check the father's injuries, called for the medics who were dealing with the minor lacerations that generally occurred at this time. Fortunately, Morath had no fangs yet and, although there were raw weals on the man's face and his chest had been badly scratched by unsheathed claws - despite their newness - he had been somewhat protected by the leather jerkin he wore. By now, most of the newly-hatched were out of the Grounds, being fed their first meal by their new life companions. The spectators, beginning to dismount from the ampitheatre's levels, managed to get a peek at the injured man. Undoubtedly they would recount the incident at every opportunity. K'vin hoped the embellishments would stay within reason. Now he had to deal with the facts. So, perhaps you would tell us what this is all about?" he asked Debera who, confronted by the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, was suddenly overcome with remorse and doubt. 1 was Searched,' she said, urgently stroking Morath who was trying to burrow her head into the girl's body. 1 had the right to come. 1 wanted to come,' and then she waved an indignant hand at her prostrate father, and they didn't even show me the letter telling me to come. !!e wants me for a union because he had a deal with Boris for a mining site and with Ganmar for taking me on. 1 don't want Ganmar, and I don't know anything about mining. 1 was Searched and 1 have the right to decide." The indignant words rushed out, accompanied by expressions of distaste, resentment and anger! Yes, 1 remember seeing your name on the Search list, Debera,' said Zulaya ranging herself beside the girl in a subtle position of support. The alignment was not lost on the older of the two men attending their fallen friend. You are Boris?" she asked him. So you must be Ganmar,' she went on, addressing the younger one. Did you not realize that Debera had been Searched'?" Ganmar looked very uncomfortable and dropped his eyes, while the scowl on Boris's face deepened and he jutted out his jaw obstinately. Lavel told me she'd refused. At that point, Maranis, the Weyr's medic, arrived to have a look at the wounded man. When he had examined him, he sent a helper for litter-bearers. Then he began to deal with the injuries, pulling back the tattered jerkin, provoking a groan from the dazed man. Well, Boris,' Zulaya said, at her sternest. As you seem to be aware, Debera does have the right . . -. That's what you weyrfolk always say. But it's us who suffer from what you call "right" Making more trouble, Boris?" asked Tashvi, arriving just then with Salda. You agreed, Tashvi,' Boris said, with little courtesy for his Lord Holder. You said we could dig that new mine. You were glad to have me and my son here start. And Lavel was willing for Ganmar to have his daughter Ah, but the daughter seems not to have been so willing, Lady Salda remarked. She was willing all right, wasn't you, Deb?" Boris said, staring with angry accusation at the girl who returned his look by lifting her chin proudly. Til they came from the Weyr on Search Search has the priority,' said Tashvi. You know that, Boris. We had it all arranged,' the father spoke up, now his pain had been alleviated by the numb weed Maranis had slathered on his wounds. We had it arranged!" And the look he gave his daughter was trenchant with angry, bitter reproach. You had it all arranged,' Debera said, equally bitter, between yourselves, but not with me, even before the Search. A wistful moan from Morath interrupted her angry rebuttal. She's hungry. I have to feed her. Come along now,' she added in a far more loving tone. Without a backward glance, she led her green dragonet out of the Hatching Ground. I'd say that the matter was certainly not well arranged, then,' Tashvi said. But it was,' said Lavel, jabbing one fist at the dragon riders until they came round, putting ideas in her head when she was a good, hard-working girl who always did as she was told. Then you riders tell her she's fit for dragons. Fit! I know what you riders get up to, and Debera's a good girl. She's not like you lot That's quite enough of such talk,' said Zulaya, drawing herself up, insulted. Indeed it is,' Tashvi agreed, scowling angrily. The Weyrwoman will realize that you're not yourself, wounded as you are. Wounds got nothing to do with my righteous anger, Lord Holder. I know what I know, and I know we had it all arranged, and you should stick up for your holders, not these weyrfolk and all their queer customs and doings, and I dunno what'll happen to my daughter." At that point, he began to weep, more in frustrated anger than from the pain of the now well-anaesthetized injuries. She was a good girl until they come. A good biddable girl!" Tashvi gestured peremptorily to the two litter-men to take the man out. Then he turned back to the Weyrleaders. I did approve the new mine, and Boris and Ganmar as owners, but I'd no idea that Lavel was in any way involved. He's a troublemaker from way back,' Tashvi said, absently shifting his feet on the hot sands. Zulaya gestured for them all to leave the Hatching Ground. Despite the extra lining she'd put in her boots this morning, she was uncomfortable standing there, and Tashvi was wearing light pull-ons. And it's not that he doesn't have other daughters,' said Salda, taking her husband's arm to speed up his progress. He's got upwards of a dozen children and had two wives already. At the rate he's been making these arrangements of his, he'll have himself sufficient land among his relatives to start his own Hold. Not that anyone in their right mind would want him as a Lord Holder." They paused outside the Ground now. Adroitly, Zulaya and K'vin chose a position so that they could also keep a weather eye on the newly-hatched who, with the help of their riders, were rapidly devouring the piles of cut meat prepared for their initial feeding. Debera's situation was unusual. Most families were glad enough to have a child chosen on Search, because of the advantages of having a dragon rider in the family: the combination of the prestige accrued to the Bloodline as well as the availability of transport. F F Listening to the vitriol in Lavel's criticism of Weyr life upset both Weyrleaders and Lord Holders. It was true that certain customs and habits had been developed in the Weyrs to suit dragon needs, but promiscuity was certainly not encouraged. In fact, there was a very strictly observed code of conduct within the Weyr. There might not be formal union contracts but no rider reneged on his word to a woman, nor failed to make provision for any children of the pairing. And few Weyrbred children, reaching puberty, left the Weyr for the grand parental holds even if they failed to Impress. Right now, the festivities had already started in the Main Cavern, with the instrumentalists playing a happy tune, one that reflected the triumph of a successful Hatching. Although the new riders were still feeding their dragons or settling them into the weyrling barracks, once the sated drago nets fell asleep the new dragon men and women would join their relatives. Zulaya wondered if she should remind Lavel that the female riders were housed separately from the males. He obviously had no idea at all how much care a new dragonet required from its human. Most days the weyrlings fell into bed too exhausted to do anything BUT sleep. And had to be rousted out of their bunks by the Weyrlingmaster when they failed to respond to their hungry dragons' summonses. The young lad, Ganmar, sulked, looking decidedly uncomfortable in his present situation. Zulaya doubted that his heart was the least bit broken by this turn of events. Of course, if he had to work with that father of his building a new hold, maybe a pretty girl to bed at night would have been a major compensation. What I should like to know,' Salda was saying, is why Debera arrived here so late, on her own and with you evidently in hot pursuit. You realize, of course,' and the stern expression in Salda's eyes was one Zulaya knew well, that we - Lord Tashvi and I - would not be at all pleased to find that Debera has been denied her holder rights. Holder?" Lavel snorted and then moaned as the injudicious movement caused him pain. She'll not be a holder now, will she? She'll be lost to us for ever, she will." And any chance of bagging her legal land allotment,' Salda said with mock remorse. Lavel growled and tried to turn away from the Lady Holder. You've claimed more than most as it is. I trust Gisa is in good health? Or have you got yet another child on her? You'll wear her out the same as you did Milla, you know. But I suppose there are women stupid enough to fall for your ever-increasing land masses. Ssshish,' and Salda turned from him in disgust. Get him out of my sight. He offends me. And sullies the spirit of this occasion. He's not so wounded he can't travel,' the medic said helpfully. Travel?" Boris exclaimed, pretending dismay as he had glanced in the direction of the Lower Cavern where the roasts were being served. I could find him a place overnight, Maranis began hesitantly. Just then four young weyrfolk led up the visitors' horses which they had recaptured. Ah, here are your mounts, Boris,' Zulaya said. Let us not keep you from a safe journey home. You should easily make it back before dark. Maranis, give Lavel enough fell is juice to see him to his hold. Lads, help him mount. Come, K vin, we're overlong congratulating the happy parents. She linked her right arm in K'vin's and her left with Lady Salda and hauled them along across the Bowl. A very good Hatching, I'd say,' she began, without a backward look at the three dismissed holders. Nineteen greens, fifteen blues, ten browns and seven bronzes. Good distribution, too. Good size to the bronzes as well. I do believe every clutch produces dragons just slightly larger than the last." Dragons haven't yet reached their design size,' K'vin said, answering her lead. I doubt we'll see that in our lifetime." Surely they're big enough already?" asked Salda, her eyes wide. Zulaya laughed. Larger by several hands than the first ones who fought Thread, which will make it all that much easier for us this time round. You know what to expect, too,' Tashvi said, nodding approval. Zulaya and K'vin exchanged brief glances. Hopefully, what they could expect did not include unwelcome surprises. Indeed we have the advantage of our ancestors in that,' K'vin said stoutly. Zulaya gave his arm a little squeeze before she released him and strode to the first table where the families of two new brown riders were sitting. K'vin continued in with Salda and saw her and Tashvi settled at the head table, where he and Zulaya would join them after they'd done their obligatory rounds of the tables. Then, making a private bet with himself, he started at the opposite end of the wide Cavern. By the fourth stop, he had won his bet: news of the unusual Impression of the last green dragon was already circulating. Is it true,' the holder mother of a bronze rider asked, that that girl had to run away from her hold?" She, and the others at this table, were clearly appalled at such a circumstance. She got here in time, that's what's important,' K'vin said, glossing over that query. What if she hadn't come?" asked one of the adolescents, her expression avid. Would the dragon have She stopped abruptly - as if she'd been kicked under the table, K'vin thought, suppressing a grin. Ah,' he said, bridging the brief pause, but I'm sure you saw that other lads crowded round, ready and willing. The dragonet would have chosen one of them." That was not exactly true. Which was why every Weyr had more than sufficient candidates on the Ground during a Hatching. Early on, the records mentioned five occasions when a dragonet had not found a compatible personality. Its subsequent death had upset the Weyr to the point where every effort was then made to eliminate a second occurrence, including accepting the dragonet's choice from among spectators. There were also cases where an egg did not hatch. In the early days, when the technology had still been available, necropsies had been performed to establish cause. In most of the recorded instances, there had been obvious yolk problems, or the creature had been mis formed and would not have survived Hatching. Three times, however, the cause of death could not be established as the foetus had been perfect, with no apparent deficiency or disability. The message was handed down to dispose of such unhatched eggs between immediately: a duty performed on such rare occasions by the Weyrleader and his bronze. I saw her ride up, said the girl, delighted to recount this fact. And then the men who tried to stop her. You must have had the best seat in the house,' K'vin told her, grinning. The girl shot a vindictive glance around the table. Yes, I did, didn't I? I saw it all! Even when the dragonet tried to eat someone. Was that her father?" Suze, now, that's enough of that,' said her own father, and the older boy beside her must have pinched her for she shot straight up on the bench and glared at him. Yes, it was her father,' K'vin said. Didn't he know any better than to strike a dragon's rider?" asked Suze's father, shocked by such behaviour. I think he has perceived his error,' K'vin said dryly and caught Suze's startled reaction. What has your son (and Charanth, as he always did, supplied the boy's name from his dragon's mind so quickly that the pause was almost unnoticeable), Thomas, decided on for a rider name?" Well, I don't think Thomas dared to hope,' his mother replied, but her expression expressed both her pride in his modesty and her delight in his success. He never liked being a Thomas,' Suze said, irrepressible. He'll pick a new name,' and she gave a snide sideways glance at her parent. And here he is, if I don't miss my guess,' K'vin said, gesturing towards the lad making his way across the Cavern floor. K'vin had lectured the candidates on their responsibilities to their drago nets so he was familiar with many of them. This Thomas, or whatever, bore a strong enough resemblance to both sister and brother to make him easily identifiable. He hoped that a facial resemblance was all Thomas shared with his sister. She was a spiteful one. Well done, young man,' K'vin said, holding out his hand. And how shall we style you now?" S'mon, Weyrleader,' the new bronze rider said, still flushed with elation. He had a good firm handshake. I considered T'om, but I never liked the nickname. You said you'd . . . Suze got yet another kick under the table, for she yipped this time and tears started in her eyes. It's easier to say,' S'mon said. Tiabeth likes it." Now he showed the delightful confusion of pride and proprietariness so many brand-new weyrlings exhibited while accustoming themselves to their new condition and duties. As K'vin remembered so vividly, that took time. And there was a T'mas in the first group at Benden. He's long dead,' his father said, not altogether pleased with his son's choice. Thomas is a family name, he admitted to K'vin. I'm Thomas, ninth of my line. The boy looked at his father with that curious aloofness of independence that came with being a newly paired dragon rider sort of you can't tell me what to do any more' and this is my business, Dad, you wouldn't understand. Tiabeth and S'mon,' K'vin said, lifting the glass he'd been carrying from table to table and drinking a toast to the partners. The others made haste to repeat it. Eat, S'mon. You'll need every meal you get a chance to eat,' he added and left the boy to follow that very good advice. At each subsequent table, he heard more speculation about the late arrival of Debera. There had been embellishments: one had her father bleeding to death. Another variation suggested that Debera had been the reluctant one and her family had insisted that she try to Impress, having been Searched. Young Suze had had the best seat in the Hatching Ground after all, despite being so far from the centre that she hadn't had a good view of Impression, but a perfect one for what was happening outside. So he edited the facts to keep the incident from getting out of hand. Fortunately, the music the band was playing, and the lyrics, provided a happy distraction. Most of the music was new. Clisser's musicians had done their job very well indeed. K'vin avoided having his glass filled too often and used slices of the roast wherry and beef to sop up what was required by the obligatory toasting of the new riders. He had almost completed his circuit when he saw the Telgar Holders and T'dam leading Debera in, all moving towards the head table. Salda and Tashvi rose and went to meet her half-way. She still had a dazed look on her face and glanced, almost wildly, around the crowded Cavern. Someone had given her a green gown which showed off a most womanly body, and the style of it as well as the colour suited Debera. The deep, clear green set off her fine complexion and a head of curling bronze-coloured hair which was now attractively dressed, not straggling unkempt around a sweaty distraught face. No doubt Tisha, the head woman had had a hand in the transformation. Zulaya had once said Tisha treated all the weyrgirls like live dolls, dressing them up and fussing with their hair. Nor was Tisha herself childless, but her excess of maternal instinct was an asset in the Weyr. Salda put an arm about Debera, her head inclined to the shorter girl as she chatted; evidently determined to make up for the lack of family members on what was generally a very happy occasion for holder or crafter. Had Debera seen the last of her relatives? No matter, she was in the larger, extended family of the Weyr and could find more amiable and sympathetic replacements. Zulaya was introducing Debera to Sarra, the sun-bleached blonde from Ista who was chatting away with such animation that Debera smiled - tentatively, K'vin thought, but with growing self-confidence. You got Morath to sleep all right?" he asked, joining the women. I thought she'd never stop eating,' Debera said, a slightly anxious frown on her face. Her green eyes, K'vin saw, were also emphasized by the colour of the gown. Tisha had done her proud. They're voradous, said Zulaya, with a kind laugh. And I F so am I. Come, let's all be seated before there's nothing left for us." Salda gave a good-natured snort, grinning down at Debera. Not likely. We've been sending you the fatted calves for the past week in anticipation." She turned to the girl as she passed her over to K'vin. One thing sure, girl, you'll eat higher on the hog here in Telgar than you ever did at home. And not have to cook it!' Debera was so clearly startled by such jocularity that K'vin took her hand, guiding her to the steps up to the platform on which the head table was placed. I think you'll be very happy here, Debera,' he said gently, with Morath as your friend." Immediately the girl's face softened with joy and her eyes watered. Her look of vulnerable wonder struck such a responsive chord in him that he stumbled in following her. Oh, and she is more than a friend,' she said, more like a prayer than a statement of fact. Come, sit beside me,' said Zulaya, pulling out the chair, and signalling K'vin to take the one beyond. They were not in their usual centre table position, but quick eye contact with Salda and Tashvi had the Holders pulling out those chairs as if such placement was normal. Listen to that melody. How lovely . . . she added, tilting her head as the music, not quite martial but firm, was stopping conversation throughout the Cavern. So are the words. . . Salda said, eyes widening in surprise, as well as delight, at what she heard. When her husband started to say something, she hushed him. K'vin was happy to listen, too. Sheledon, who had insisted on using the Telgar Impression as the debut of some new music, was very pleased that conversation had trailed off and everyone was hearing what was being sung. Now was the time to spring the big one on them. As soon as the coda on what Jemmy called Dragonlove' had finished, he held up the music to the Duty Ballad' and then pointed it at Sydra who would sing the boy soprano part. They hadn't found a lad with a suitable voice yet, but she could whiten her voice to approximate the tone. At Sheledon's signal, Bethany piped the haunting notes of the intro and Sydra rose to sing the opening verse. All right, they didn't have enough trained voices to really sock the Ballad' to this audience - in his mind, Sheledon heard' what a ffill chorus would sound like - but the excellent accoustics in the Cavern were a big help. And the music captivated. Sydra managed to sound very young and awed.. Gollagee came in with his fine tenor as the dragon rider Sheledon was right on cue with his baritone part and then, with Bethany singing alto and the Weyr's own musicians adding their voices, they wound it all up. There was just one split second's total silence - the sort that makes performers rejoice - and then everyone was standing, wildly cheering, clapping, stamping their approval. Even the dragons joined in from outside, caught up in their riders' enthusiasms. Sydra kept bowing and urging the rest of the musicians to stand and accept the accolades. Even Bethany stood, a few tears trickling down her cheeks at such a unanimous reception. They gave five encores of the Ballad' - with people adding their voices to the chorus as they quickly picked up on the words. When Sheledon ruefully waved off a sixth repeat, there were calls for the Dragonlove' song which was so appropriate for this evening. All in all, Sheledon decided as he caught Sydra's smiling face, a very successful debut! Jemmy had outdone himself and Clisser would be delighted. Perhaps there was something to Clisser's notion of redesigning the educational system so less time would be wasted on unessentials and the Real Meaning of Life' could be addressed sooner. Life in the Weyrling Barracks and at the College It was the Weyrwoman, Zulaya, who noticed Debera's increasing nervousness. Go on back to Morath, m'dear. You're exhausted and you'll need your sleep." Thank you. .. ah We make no use of titles in the Weyr,' Zulaya added. Just go. I've given you permission, if that's what you were so politely waiting for. Debera murmured her thanks and rose, wanting to slip out as inconspicuously as possible. She'd felt so awkward and unsocial, even when everyone, even the Lord and Lady Holder - she couldn't reconcile their behaviour with her father's stories about them, but she intended to forget everything he'd ever told her - had been so incredibly kind and easy. She thought they would expect her to give an explanation of her unusual behaviour, but they'd supported her instantly. Really, it was as if her real life had started the moment she and Morath had locked eyes. It had, she decided as she made her way along the side of the Cavern wall, head down so she needn't make eye contact with anyone. She saw only smiles from folks as she passed them, smiles and courtesy. And certainly none of the lascivious behaviour that her father had often said was prevalent in the Weyr. Of course he'd told her a lot of things. And not told her others. Like the fact that an official announcement of Search, with her name on it, had been delivered to the hold so that she'd know when to come, to be available for the Hatching. No, she'd had to find that, stuffed in the cupboard where bits and pieces that could be re-used were kept. No-one at Balan Hold, especially her father and stepmother, Gisa, would have thrown out a whole sheet of paper that had a clean side that could be recycled. How she hated that word! Cycle, re-cycle. Use, re-use. The concept dominated every aspect of Balan Hold. And they were not poor' in material possessions: not the way some holders were. But poor' Balan Hold had been in spirit ever since her mother had died. She'd been looking for something else entirely when she found the sheet. Not that she knew the day's date, but it was obvious that the announcement must have come some time before, the paper being soiled and the creases well set. Maybe even weeks. She had been ready to accept Ganmar as an alternative to continued living in her father's house. She'd known that she'd have to work as hard, if not harder, setting up a new hold, chiselling it out of rock above the mine, but it would have been hers - and Ganmar's - and something she could design to her own wishes. Not that she'd been inclined to believe any of the blithe and extravagant promises Ganmar or Boris had made her. All they wanted was a strong body with lots of hard work in it. But she had seen a lot of dragons in the sky the day before, most of them carrying passengers. Balan Hold was not that far from Telgar Weyr - not even by surface travel. So, the moment she'd read the message, she'd made her plans right then, without any have ring She'd been Searched: she had the right to be there. No matter how life in the Weyr might be, it couldn't be worse than what she now endured. And if she could be a dragon rider Debera had tucked the paper into her hip pocket and slammed the drawer shut. She was alone in the kitchen, and sun was streaming in, almost as if adding light to her resolve. She didn't even go back to the room she shared with her three half-sisters, but grabbed her jacket and made for the paddock where the riding horses were kept. There was no-one about in the yard: all were at work. Assignments had been given out over breakfast, and everyone had better show their father completed chores or there'd be no lunch break until they were done. She didnt even dare collect a saddle or bridle from the barn because her eldest brothers were restacking hay - they'd done a sloppy job of it the first time round. She just grabbed up a leather thong. Since she'd had the most to do with the hold horses, she'd have little trouble managing any of them with just a lip rein. Bilwil would be the fastest. She had probably three hours before the midday meal when her absence would be noticed. By then, she'd be well up the track to the Weyr. With one look over her shoulder to see if she was being observed, she walked quickly - as if she were on an errand to the paddock. Bilwil was not far from the fence which she climbed - the gate would be too near the vegetable garden where two half-sisters were weeding. They loved nothing better than to report her idling ways' to either their mother or her father. Two brothers in the barn, the next pair out with him in the forestry, and her stepmother in the dairy hold making cheese. Debera had been grinding wheat for flour when the cotter pin had snapped. That's what she'd been trying to find in the drawer; a nail or something to replace the cotter pin so she could continue her task. So Gisa wouldn't miss her for a while to sound an alarm. For until flour had been made there'd be no bread and Gisa wouldn't want to turn that heavy stone, not pregnant as she was. Bilwil nickered softly when she approached him she grabbed his forelock. No-one had bothered to rub him down last night and his coat was rough with perspiration from yesterday's timber hauling. Maybe she should take one of the others. But Bilwil had lowered his head to accept the twist of thong around his lower jaw. She could scarcely risk chasing a better-rested, less amenable mount about the paddock so she inserted the rein, grabbed a handful of mane and vaulted to his back. Would she be vaulting to the back of a dragon tomorrow? She lay as flat as she could across his neck, just in case someone looked out across the paddock, and kneed him forward towards the forest. Just before they reached the intertwined hedging that marked the far boundary she took one brief look back at the hold buildings - windows chiselled out of the very rock, the uneven entrance to the main living quarters, the wider one into the animal hold. Not a soul in sight. C'mon, bilwil, let's get out of here,' she'd murmured and kicked him sharply intc) a trot, heading him right at the fence, a point not far from (ne of the tracks through the forest. It was a good thing Bilwil liked to jump anyhw, because she'd given him only enough room to gather himself up. But he was nimbly over and had planted his left frnt foot, swinging left () it in response to her pull on his mouth and her right heel as he brought his other feet down. In moments they were among the trees and quickly reached the track. Bilwil tried once to pull to the left, to go back to the hold, but she kicked him sharply and he went right. They were far enough from the hold so that his hoof heats wouldn't be audible - not unless someone had their ear to the ground, which was unlikely. Noses would be to the grindstones, where hers no longer was. The thought made her grin, though she was not as yet safe from discovery. As soon as the track widened, she set Bilwil to a canter, enjoying the one activity in which she took any pleasure. She stopped several times, to rest her own backside as well as Bilwil's and found late berries to eat. She really ought to have snatched up the last of the breakfast cheese or even an apple or two to tide her on the way. It wasn't until she reached the final leg of the journey up to the Telgar Weyr that she was aware of pursuit. Or at least spied three horsemen on the road. They could well be visitors, coming for the Hatching, but it was prudent to suspect the worst. Her father could be one, and possibly Boris and Ganmar the other two. Either way, she had to get to the safety of the Weyr before they caught her up. How had they made so much time in pursuit of her? Had someone seen her after all and run to alert Lavel? A long tunnel had been carved in the thinnest wall of the Telgar Crater as access for surface traffic. it was lit with glow baskets. Bilwil was tired from the last long, steep climb on top of yesterday's work. She thought she heard male voices yelling at her and kicked Bilwil into a weary trot. No matter how she used her heels on his ribs, he wouldn't extend his stride. Then she heard the humming - as if it emanated from the walls around her. She knew what that meant and she gave a cry of despair. After all this, she'd be too late and there wouldn't be a dragon left for her to Impress . even if she had been Searched. How could she possibly go back? She wouldn't. She knew her rights. She'd been Searched. She could stay at the Weyr until the next clutch. Anything was preferable to going back to what she'd just left. The union with Ganmar would not have been any real improvement, although she had been determined to establish a proper relationship with the young miner. He looked impressible. Her own mother had told her that there were ways of handling a man so he didn't even know he was being managed. But Milla had died before she could impart those ways to her daughter. And Gisa, who had probably given up all thought of a second union if she had been desperate enough to part net her father, was a natural victim who enjoyed being dominated. More hoof steps sounded in the tunnel and, desperate to reach her objective, Debera kicked Bilwil on. The gallant animal fell into a heavy canter that jarred every bone in her body but they made it into the Bowl. Debera could see that not only was the Hatching Ground full of people, but also new, staggering drago nets But, as she got close enough, she saw there were still a few eggs. Her pursuers were catching up. She had no need to halt Bilwil at the entrance; he stopped moving forward the moment she stopped kicking him. She slid off and raced towards the Hatching Ground just as her father, Boris and Ganmar caught up, yelling at her to stop. To come to her senses . . . She wrenched herself free of grasping hands just in time to reach Morath. And finally came into her own. Now, as she made her way back to the weyrling barracks, she was as tired as she had ever been in her life and far happier! As she rattled the door in her nervousness to open it, T'dam poked his head out of the boys' barracks next door. Back, are you? Well, she hasn't moved so much as a muscle. And I don't think you will either, will you?" She shook her head, too tired to speak. She opened one side of a door wide enough to accommodate wing-trailing drago nets and slipped inside, turning to close it after her but T'dam came in as well, reaching up to turn the glow basket open. As well he did, because Debera would have knocked into the first of the dragonet beds. These were basically simple wooden platforms, raised half a metre above the ground, ample enough for dragons until they were old enough to be transferred to a permanent weyr apartment. The rider's bed was a trundle affair to one side of the dragon's, with storage space underneath and a deep chest at the foot. She skirted the bed, relieved she had not awakened the occupant, and got to Morath's, the next one in. And hers. There were several items of clothing on the chest. Tisha sent in some other things since you weren't able to bring any changes with you,' T'dam said. And a nightdress, I believe. Open the glow above the bed and then I'll shut this one. When she had done so, he closed the larger one and then the door behind him. Immediately he had, she examined Morath, curled tightly on her platform, wings over her eyes. Was that how drago nets slept? Wondering at the good fortune that had happened to her this day, Debera watched the sleeping dragonet as dearly as any mother observed a newborn, much wanted child. Morath's belly still bulged with uneven lumps from all the meat she had eaten. T'dam had laughed when Debera worried that the dragonet would make herself sick with such greed. They repeat the process six or seven times a day the first month,' he'd warned her. You'll end up thinking you've spent all your life chopping gobbets until she settles to the usual three meals a day. But don't worry. By the end of her first year, she'll be eating only twice a week - and catching her own at that." Debera smiled, remembering that conversation and thinking that T'dam had no idea what a relief it would be to have such an easy job, the doing of which would be a labour of love and so gratefully received. She held her hand over her beloved Morath, wanting to caress this so-beloved creature but not wishing to disturb her - especially when Debera was all but asleep herself. She lingered though, despite weariness, just watching Morath's ribs rise and fall in sleeping rhythm. Then she could no longer resist fatigue. She was the lone human in the weyrling barn . . . no, barracks. Well, the others had their families to celebrate with. Who'd have thought that Debera of Balan Hold would be sleeping with dragons this night? She certainly hadn't. She slipped out of the fine dress now, smoothed the soft fabric of the green gown one last time as she folded it. It had felt so good on her body and was such a becoming colour: quite the loveliest thing she had ever worn. Gisa had got all her mother's dresses which ought by custom to have come to her. Debera shrugged into the nightgown, aware of the subtle bouquet of the herbs in which it had been stored. Once she'd had time to gather the fragrant flowers and leaves for sachets with her mother. She pulled back the thick woollen blanket, fingering its softness, and not regretting in the slightest the over washed and thin ones she had shared with her step-sisters. The pillow was thick under her cheek, too, as she put her head down, and soft and redolent of yet more fragrances. That was all she had time to think. Back at the College, Sheledon, Bethany and Sydra arrived a-dragon back full of the ardent reception they'd had at Telgar Weyr. I don't know why we didn't think of Teaching Ballads before now,' said Sydra, slightly hoarse from all the singing she'd done the night before. Too bad we hadn't the selections ready for the other two Impressions,' Sheledon said, for he invariably saw disadvantages everywhere. Are there any more upcoming?" Well, there're Year's End celebrations Beth any replied. We tend to stay here for them, said Sheledon, not wanting to miss the feasts that Chrislee generally provided for those holidays. The senior teachers at the College invariably were included on the Fort guest list and never missed such opportunities, even if they had the option of returning to their native hearths for the three-day celebration. Maybe this once,' Sydra began, looking at Sheledon, we should go home and spread the word. Bethany frowned. The full chorus and accompaniment is what makes the songs so effective - - -. Sheledon frowned. We can certainly organize substantial groups for the main Holds. The dragon riders always come as guests anyway, so they'd all get a chance to hear . . . Then he smiled down at his wife, settling an affectionate arm across her shoulders. You sure did the boy soprano bit well. But I think we'd best get the juvenile voice for Year's End. You're hoarse today." Halllooo down there, and they all looked up to see Clisser, bending far out from an upper window and waving at them. Did the Ballads work?" he yelled, hands to his mouth. The musicians looked at each other, Sheledon counted the beat and they roared back. THEY LOVED US!" Clisser made a broad OK gesture with both hands and then waved them to go to his office in the original section of the facility. They reached it first, still elated with the success of their performance, an elation which began to disperse when they saw Clisser's expression. What's the matter?" asked Bethany, half rising from her chair. The computers went down and Jemmy thinks they're totally banjaxed now,, Clisser said glumly, flopping into the chair at his desk, his body slack in despair. What happened? They were working perfectly,' Sheledon said, scowling. What was Jemmy . Clisser held up one hand. Not Jemmy One of those students hacking around Sheledon's expression suggested dire punishments. Clisser shook his head. Lightning Lightning? But we had no storm warnings Fried all the solar panels, tOO, although at least we can replace those. Corey lost her system, what was left of it, including the diagnostics she's been trying so desperately to transcribe. Made speechless by such a catastrophe, Sheledon sat down heavily on the corner of the desk while Sydra leaned disconsolately against the wall. How much is gone?" Bethany asked, trying to absorb the disaster. All of it,' and Clisser flicked his fingers before he clasped them together across his chest, chin down. But . . . but, surely, it's only a matter - - Sheledon began. The motherboards are charcoal and glue,' Clisser said dully. Jemmy's gone through every box of chips we had left, and there aren't enough to rebuild even a few meg - and that wouldn't operate the system. Even part of the system. It's gone,' and he waved his hand helplessly again. There was silence for long moments as those in the room struggled to cope with such a massive loss. How much did the students . . . Bethany began, cutting her sentence off as Clisser waved, almost irritably, to silence her. Surely they saved something Something, but nowhere near what we need, what was waiting to be copied, a mere fraction of what we need to know.. Look, Clisser,' Bethany said gently, what have we really lost?" He jerked his head up, glaring at her. What have we really lost? Why, everything!" Sheledon and Sydra were regarding Bethany as if she had run mad. The history we are already seeing as irrelevant to our lives now?" she asked softly. Descriptions of archaic devices and procedures which have no relevance on Pern since we no longer operate an advanced technological society'? Isn't that what you were doing anyway, Clisser? Changing the direction of teaching in line to what is needed in this time, on this planet, and disregarding 1 don't know how many gigabytes of stored information that is irrelevant! Now that we don't have to worry about all that,' and her hand airily dismissed the loss, we can forge ahead and not have to concern ourselves with translating usdess trivia for posterity. So 1 ask you, what have we really lost'?" Silence extended until Sheledon uttered a sharp laugh. You know, she may be right. We've been knocking ourselves out copying down stuff that won't work here on Pern anyhow. Especially,' and his voice hardened, since no-one back on Earth cares enough to find out what's happened to us." Sydra regarded her husband with a blink. Not that old Tubberman homing tube business again?" Sheledon went defensive. Well, we know from. . . the Records . Sydra said with a malicious grin, and Sheledon flushed, that the message tube was sent without Admiral Benden's authority. Without the name of a colony leader on it, no-one on Earth would have paid it any heed if it even got to Earth in the first place. IF I Someone could have come and had a look-see,' Sheledon said. Oh, come now, Shel,' said Bethany, as amused by his sudden switch for he had always derided the Tubberman Tube Theory. Pern isn't rich enough for anyone to bother about. So the precious records said, but j think that was to save face. They should have checked on us to see how we were faring . They got awfully proprietary about the Shavian colonies that were the basic reason for the Nathi Space War." That was over three hundred years ago, She 1,' Bethany said in her patient teacher-tone. And it is totally irrelevant to now,' Sydra added. Look, the loss of the computers is undeniably a blow to us, but not something we cannot overcome But all that information . . . cried Clisser, tears coming to his eyes. Clisser, dear, and Bethany leaned across to him, patting his hand gently, we still have the best computers ever invented . . . and she tapped her forehead, and they're crammed full of information: more than we really need to operate - - But. .. but, now we'll never find out how to preserve vital information -- like early warning of the return of the Red Star. We'll think of something,' she said in such a confident tone that it penetrated Clisser's distress. And briefly he looked a trifle brighter. Then he slumped down in even deeper despair. But we've failed the trust placed in us to keep the data available Nonsense!" Sheledon said vehemently, crashing one fist down on the desk-top. We've kept them going past their design optimum. I've read enough in the old manuals to appreciate that. Every year for the past fifty has been a miracle. And we haven't, as Bethany says, lost all. A gimmick from the past has failed, like so many of them have. And we're now going to have to bypass the easy access to data they provided and sweat through books! Books! Books that we have in quantity. Clisser blinked. He shook his head as if mentally rejecting a thought. We have been planning to ignore much of the old data,' Bethany said gently. What was most important to us..." and her hand indicated the Pern of the present, has been copied well, most of it,' she amended when Clisser opened his mouth. If we haven't needed it up to now, we never will. But we've lost the sum total of human..." Clisser began.. Ha!" Sydra said. Ancient history, man. We've survived on Pern and it is PERN that's important. As Bethany said, if we haven't needed it up to now, we never will. So calm down." Clisser scrubbed at his skull with both hands. But how will I tell Paulin?" Didn't the lightning affect Fort, too?" asked Sheledon and answered himself. I thought I saw a work force on the solar heights. Clisser threw both hands up in the air. I told him we were checking the damage Which is total?" Sheledon asked. Total!" and Clisser dropped his head once again to his chest in resignation to the inevitable. It's not as if you caused the storm or anything, Cliss, Bethany said. He gave her a burning look. Was the system being run at the time?" Sheledon asked. Of course not,' Clisser said emphatically, scowling at Sheledon. You know the rule. All electronics are turned off in any storm. And they were?" Of course they were." Bethany exchanged a look with Sheledon as if they did not credit that assurance. They both knew that Jemmy would work until he fell asleep over the keyboard. I tell you,' and Clisser went on, everything powered went down. It's just luck that the generators have all those surge protectors, but even those didn't save the computers. The surge came in on the data bus, not the power lines." Which were dying anyway. They were now dead, really I' F truly dead,' Sheledon said firmly. Rest in peace. I'll go and tell Paulin if he's who you're worried about. I am not,' and Clisser banged his fist on the table, worried about Paulin. And it's my duty to tell him." Then also tell him that our new teaching techniques are in place and that we've lost nothing that future generations will need to know,' said Sydra. But . . . but . how do we know what they might need to know?" Clisser asked, clearly still despairing with that rhetorical question. We don't know the half of what we should know. Bethany rose and took the two steps to the beverage counter. it's not working either,' Clisser said in a sharp disgusted tone, flicking one hand at it, insult on injury. I shall miss the convenience, she said. We all shall miss convenience,' said Clisser and exhaled sharply, once again combing his hair back from his forehead with impatient fingers. So,' said Sydra with a shrug of her shoulders, we use the gas-ring instead. It heats water just as hot, if not as quickly. Now, let's all go and get a reviving cup, shall we?" She took Clisser by the hand, to tug him out of his chair. You look as if you need reviving. You're all high on last night's success, he told them accusingly, but he got to his feet. As well we are,' said Sheledon. The better to console you, old friend. Clisser,' Bethany began in her soft, persuasive voice, we have known from our reading of the Second Crossing that the artificial intelligence, the AI VAS turned itself off. We know why. Because it wisely knew that people were beginning to think it was infallible: that it contained all the answers to all Mankind's problems. Not just its history. Mankind had begun not only to consider it an oracle but to depend on it far more than was wise. For us. So it went down. We have let ourselves be guided too long by what we could read and extract from the data left to us on computer. We have been too dependent. It is high time we stood squarely on our own two feet . . . She paused, twisting her mouth wryly, to underscore her own uneven stance, . . . and made our own decisions. Especially when what the computers tell us has less and less relevance to our current problems." You said it, Bethany,' agreed Sheledon, nodding approval with a little quirk of his mouth. Clisser smoothed back his hair again and smiled ruefully. It would have been better if this could all have happened just a little - and he made a space between thumb and forefinger, later. When we found what we need for the dragon riders You mean, a fail-proof system to prove the Red Star's on a drop course?" Sheledon asked and then shrugged. The best minds on the continent are working on that problem. We'll find a solution,' said Bethany, again with the oddly calm resolution of hers. Mankind generally does, you know." That's why we have dragons,' Sydra said. I could really murder a cup of klah. Weyrling Barracks and Bitra Hold An insistent, increasingly urgent sense of hunger nagged Debera out of so deep a sleep she was totally disoriented. The bed was too soft, she was alone in it, and neither the sounds nor smells around her were familiar. I really am most terribly hungree and I know that you were very \tired but my stomach is empty, empty, empty MORA TH Debera shot bolt upright and cracked her poll on the underside of the dragonet's head because Morath had been leaning over her bed. Ouch! Oh, dearest, I didn't hurt you, did I?" Standing up in the bed, Debera wrapped apologetic arms about Morath, stroking her cheeks and ear knobs reassuring her with murmurs of regret and promises to never hurt her again. The little dragon refocused her eyes, whirling lightly, but with only the faintest tinge of the red of pain and alarm which dissipated quickly with such ardent reassurances. Your head is much harder than it looks, she said, giving hers a little shake. Debera rubbed underneath the jaw where the contact had been made. I'm so sorry, dearest, and then she heard a giggle behind her and swivelling around, half in anger, half in reflexive defence, she saw that she was not alone in the weyrling barracks. The blonde girl from Ista . . . Sarra, that was her name . . . was sitting on the edge of her bed, folding clothes into the chest. Her dragonet was still curled up in a tight mound from which a slight snore could be heard. Ooops, no offence intended . . . Sarra said, smiling with such good nature that Debera immediately relaxed. You should have seen the looks on your faces. Morath's eyes nearly crossed when you cracked her. Debera rubbed the top of her head, grimacing, as she descended from the bed. I was so deeply asleep . . . I couldn't think where I was at first . Morath's been as good as she could be,' Sarra said. T'dam said to dress for dirty work. We're supposed to bathe and oil them after their first nap of the day." That was when Debera remembered the pile of things she had not properly sorted the previous night. Does dressing take long? Morath asked plaintively. No, it doesn't, love,' and, turning her back in case Sarra might be embarrassed, Debera hauled off the nightdress and threw on the garments on the top of the pile - not new, certainly, but suitable for rough work. The socks were new, knitted of a sturdy cotton, and she was especially grateful for them since the pair she had had on yesterday had already been worn several days. She stamped her feet into her own boots and stood. I'm ready, dear,' she said to the little green. who stepped down off the raised platform and promptly fell on her nose. Sarra jumped the intervening bed to help right Morath, struggling so hard to keep from laughing that she nearly choked. Once Debera saw that Morath had taken no hurt, she grinned back at the Istan. Are they always this . . ? Sarra nodded. So T'dam told us. You'll find a pail of meat just outside the door . . . We get a break this first morning,' and she wrinkled her nose in a grimace, but after today, it's up at the crack of dawn and carve up our darlings' breakfasts." There was a long snorting snore from Sarra's green and she whirled, waiting to see if the dragonet was waking up. But the snore trembled into a tiny soprano ooooooh' and then resumed its rhythm. Did she do that all night long?" Debera asked. I am SO hungry Debera was all apologies, and so was Sarra who sprinted ahead to fling open both leaves of the door, making a flourishing bow for their exit. Morath immediately crowded against Debera, pushing her to the right, her young nose detecting the enticing smell in the two covered pails on the rack outside the barracks. Debera lifted the pail down while Morath impatiently nudged off the cover and seemed to inhale the gobbets. Debera allowed her to fill her mouth and then started shielding the pail with her body. You will chew what you eat, Morath, you hear me? You could choke to death, and then where would I be?" Morath gave her such a look of pained astonishment and reproach that Debera couldn't remain stern. Chew,' she said, popping a handful of pieces into Morath's open mouth. Chew!" she repeated and Morath obediently exercised her jaws before spreading them wide again for another batch. Debera had not tended the orphaned young animals of her hold without learning some of the tricks. Whoever had decided on the quantity, Debera thought, knew the precise size of a dragonet's belly. Morath's demands had slowed considerably as Debera reached the bottom of the pail and the dragonet sighed before she swallowed the last. I see she's had breakfast,' said T'dam, appearing from behind so suddenly that Morath squawked in surprise and Debera struggled to get to her feet. T'dam's hand on her shoulder pushed her back down. We're not formal in the Weyr, Debera, he said kindly. Now, lead her over to the lake there,' and he gestured to the right where Debera recognized the large mounds as sleeping drago nets Then, when she wakes up from this feed she'll be just where you can bathe and oil her." T'dam grinned. Before you can feed her again, though..." and then he motioned to his left. Ar you squeamish?" he asked. Debera took a good look in the direction he pointed and saw six skinned carcasses, swaying from butchering tripods. Weyrlings were busy with knives carving flesh off the bones, or at the table chopping raw meat into dragonet morsels. Me?" Debera gave a cynical snort. Not likely." Good,' T'dam said approvingly. Some of your peers are. Come now, Morath,' he added in a totally altered tone, loving and kind and wheedling, you'll need a little rest and the sands by the lake are warm in the sun . Morath lifted her head, her eyes glistening bluey-green as she regarded the Weyrlingmaster. He is a nice nian, she said and began to waddle towards the lake: her swaying belly bulged lumpily with her meal. When you've settled her, Debera, be sure to get your own breakfast in the kitchen. Good thing you're not squeamish he said, turning away, but his chuckle drifted back to Debera's ears. It's awffilly far to the lake, isn tit, Debera? Morath said, puffing. Not really,' Debera said. Anyway, it's much too rocky underfoot right here to make a comfortable bed for your nap. Morath looked down her long nose, her left fore knocking a stone out of her path. And she sighed. She kept going, Debera encouraging her with every slow step, until they reached the sandier ground surrounding the lake. It had recently been raked, the marks visible between the paw- and tail-prints of the drago nets Debera urged Morath further on to the sand, to an empty spot between two browns who were tightly curled with wings to shield their eyes from the autumn sun pouring down on them. With a great sigh, Morath dropped her hindquarters to the sand, with an I'm not going a step further attitude and sank slowly over to her right side. She curled her tail about her, curved her head around under her left wing and, with a sweet babyish croon rumbling in her throat, fell asleep. Once again, Debera could barely bring herself to leave the dragonet, lost in the wonder of having been acceptable to such a marvellously lovable creature. She'd been lonely and lacking in love for so long - ever since her mother had died and her oldest full brother had left the family Hold. Now she had Morath, all her very own, and those long years of isolation faded into a trivial moment. She's perfectly safe here,' Debera told herself finally, and forced herself to leave Morath and make her way across that quadrant of the Bowl to the kitchen caverns. Enticing smells of fresh bread and other viands made her quicken her steps. She hoped she'd have enough restraint not to bolt her food like her dragonet. The kitchen cavern at Telgar Weyr was actually a series of caves, each with an entrance, varying in size, width and height. As Debera paused at the entrance of the nearest and smallest one, she saw that hearths or ovens were ranged against the outside wall, each with a separate chimney protruding up the cliff face. Inside, the many long tables where last night guests had been entertained were reduced to the number needed by the regular population of the Weyr. But the interior was busy as men and women went about food preparation tasks. Breakfast's over there, a woman said, smiling at Debera and pointing. Porridge's still hot and the klah's fresh made. Help yourself." Debera looked to her left to the farthest hearth, which had tables and chairs set invitingly near it. There'll be fresh-baked bread soon, too, and I'll bring some over,' the woman added and proceeded on her own business. Debera had only just served herself a heaping of porridge - not a lump in it, nor a fleck of burn - and a cup of klah when two boys, looking bewildered and not at all sure of how to proceed, wandered in. The bowls are there, the cups there,' Debera said, pointing. And use that hunk of towel to hold the pot while you spoon out the cereal. It's hot. They sent her tentative smiles - they must just be old enough for Impression, she thought, feeling just a trifle older and wiser. They managed - but not without slopping gobs of porridge into the fire and jumping back from the hiss and smell - to get enough in the bowls and to pour klah into their cups. C'mon, sit here, I won't bite, she said, tapping her table. They were certainly not a bit sullen or grouchy, like her younger half brothers You've a green, haven't you?" the first one asked. He had a crop of black curls that had recently been trimmed very close to his skull. Course she has a green, stoop id the other lad said, elbowing the ribs of the first. I'm M'rak, and Caneth's my bronze,' he added with a justifiable smirk of pride. My bronze is Tiabeth,' the black haired boy said, equally as proud of his dragon, but added modestly, I'm S'mon. What's yours called?" Morath,' and Debera found herself grinning broadly. Did all new riders feel as besotted as this? The boys settled into chairs and began to eat, almost as eagerly as drago nets Deliberately Debera slowed the rhythm of her spoon. This porridge was really too good to gulp down: not a husk nor a piece of grit in it. Obviously Telgar tithed of its best to the Weyr, even with such a staple as oats for porridge. She sighed, grateful for more than Impressing Morath yesterday. The boys suddenly stopped, spoons half lifted to their mouths and, warned, Debera turned quickly. Bearing down on their table was the unmistakable bulk of Tisha, the head woman of the Lower Cavern. Her broad face was wreathed with a smile as generous as she was. How are you today? Settling in all right? Need anything from stores? Parents will pack your Gather best, and you really need your weeding worst,' she said, her rich contralto voice bubbling with good humour. Breakfast all right? Bread's just out of the oven and you can have all you want." She had halted by Debera's chair and her hands, shapely with long strong fingers, patted Debera's shoulders lightly as if imparting a special message to her along with that pressure. You lack something, come tell me, or mention it to T'dam. You weyrlings shouldn't worry about anything other than caring for your drago nets That's hard work enough, I'm telling you, so don't be shy, now." She gave Debera a little extra pat before she removed her hands. I didn't think to bring with me the gown you lent me last night,' Debera said, wondering if that's what the subtle message was. Heavens above, child,' said Tisha, big eyes even wider in her round face, why, that dress was made for you, even if we didn't know you'd be coming." Her deep chuckle made her large breasts and belly bounce. But it's far too good a dress . . . Debera began in protest. Tisha patted Debera's shoulder again. And fits you to perfection. I love making new clothes. My passion really, and you'll see: I'm always working on something." Pat, pat. But if I'd no-one in mind when I cut and sewed it last year, 1 couldn't have worked better for you if I'd tried. The dress is yours. We all like to have something pretty to wear on Seventh Day. Do you sew?" she asked, eyeing Debera hopefully. No, I'm afraid not,' Debera answered, lowering her eyes for she remembered her mother with work in her hands in the evenings, embroidering or sewing fine seams in Gather clothes. Gisa barely managed to mend rips, and certainly neither of her daughters was learning how to mend or make garments. Well, I don't know what holder women are doing with their young these days. Why, I had a needle in my hand by the time I was three -, Tisha went on. The boys' eyes were glazing over at the turn of the conversation. And you'll learn to sew harness, my fine young friends, she said, wagging a finger at them. And boots and jackets, too, if you've a mind to design your own flying wear." Huh?" was M'rak's astonished reaction. Sewing's fer women. Not in the Weyr, it isn't,' Tisha said firmly. As you'll see soon enough. It's all part of being a dragon rider You'll learn. Ah, now, here's the bread, butter and a pot of jam. Sure enough, another ample woman, grinning with the pleasure of what she was about to bestow on them, deposited the laden tray on the table. That should help, thank you, Allie,' Tisha said as Debera added a murmur of appreciation and S'mon remembered his manners, too. M'rak made no such delay in grabbing up a piece of the steaming bread and cramming it into his mouth. Wow! Great!" Well, just be sure you don't lose it, preparing your dragonet's next meal,' Tisha said and moved off before the astonished bronze rider had absorbed her remark. What'd she mean by that?" he asked the others. Debera grinned. Hold-bred?" Naw, m'family's weavers,' M'rak said. From Keroon Hold. We have to cut up what our drago nets eat, though, don't we?" S'mon asked in a slightly anxious voice. From the the bodies they got hung up?" You mean cut it off the things that wore the meat?" M'rak turned a little pale and swallowed. That's what we mean,' Debera said. If you like, I'll do your carving and you can just cut up. Deal?" You bet,' M'rak agreed fervently. And gulped again, no longer attacking the rest of the bread that hung limply from his fingers. He put the slice down. I didn't know that was part of being a dragon rider too. Debera chuckled. I think we're all going to find out that being a dragon rider is not just sitting on its neck and going wherever we want to. A prophecy she was to learn was all too accurate. She didn't regret making the bargain with the two youngsters - it was a fair distribution of effort - but it did seem that she spent her next weeks either butchering or feeding or bathing her dragonet with no time for anything else but sleeping. She had dealt with orphaned animals, true, but none the size nor with the appetite capacity of drago nets Morath seemed to grow overnight, as if instantly transferring what she ate to visible increase - which meant more to scrub, oil AND feed. It's worth it, I keep telling myself,' Sarra murmured one day as she wearily sprawled onto her bed. Does it help?" Grasella asked, groaning as she turned on her side. Does it matter?" put in Mesla, kicking her boots off. All that oil is softening my hands,' Debera remarked in pleased surprise, noticing the phenomenon for the first time. And matting my hair something wicked,' said Jule, regarding the end of the fuzzy plait she kept her hair in. I wonder when I'll have time to wash it again." If you ask Tisha, she'll give you the most marvellous massage,' Angie said, stretching on her bed and yawning. My leg's all better. She and her Plath had tripped each other up, and she'd pulled all the muscles in her right leg so badly that at first they feared she'd broken a bone in the tumble. Plath had been beside herself with worry until Maranis had pronounced the damage only a bad wrenching'. The other girls had helped Angie tend Plath. All part of being a dragon rider T'dam had said, but he exhibited sympathy in making sure he was at hand to assist her. too. Nothing you won't grin about later. Although the room in which Lord Chalkin sat so that the newly-certified Artist Iantine could paint his portrait of the Lord Holder was warmer than any other chamber in Bitra that lantine had occupied, he sighed softly in weariness. His hand was cramped and he was very tired, though he was careful not to reveal anything to his odious subject. He also had to do a bang-up job of this portrait as fast as possible, or he might not leave this miserable Hold until the spring. Fortunately this first snow was melting and, if he finished the painting, he'd leave before the paint was dry. And with the marks he'd been promised! Why he had ever thought himself able to handle any problem that could occur on a commission, he did not know. &rtainly he had been warned: more about not gambling with any Bitrans, to be sure, had he had any marks to wager. But the warnings had been too general. Why hadn't Ussie told him how many other people had been defrauded by the Biran Lord Holder? The contract had seemed all right, sounded all right and was as near to a total disaster as made no never mind. Inexperienced and arrogant, that's what he was. Too self-assured to listen to the wisdom of the years of experience Master Domaize had tried to get through his thick head. But Master Domaize had a reputation for letting you deal with your own mistakes - especially the ones unconnected with Art. Please, Lord Chalkin, would you hold still just a moment longer? The light is too good to waste,' lantine said, aware of the twitching muscles in Chalkin's fat cheeks. The man didn't have a tic or anything, but he could no more be still in his fancy chair than his children. Impishly, lantine wondered if he could paint' a twitch - a muscle rictus - but it was hard enough to make Chalkin look good as it was. The man's muddy brown, close-set eyes seemed to cross towards the bridge of his rather fleshy, bulbous nose - which Iantine had deftly refined. Master Domaize had often told his students that one had to be discreet in portraying people, but lantine had argued the matter: that realism was necessary if the subject wanted a true' portrait. True portraits are never realistic, his master had told him -and the other students in the vast barn of a place where classes were held. Save realism for landscapes and historical murals, not for portraits. No-one wants to see themselves as others see them. The successful portraitist is one who paints with both tact and sympathy. Iantine remembered railing about dishonesty and pandering to egos. Master Domaize had looked over the half spectacles he now had to wear if he wanted to see beyond his nose and smiled that gentle, knowing smile of his. Those of us who have learned that the portraitist must also be the diplomat make a living. Those of us who wish to portray truth end up in a craft Hall, painting decorative borders." When the commission to do miniatures of Lord Chalkin's young children had been received at Hall Domaize, there had been no immediate takers. What's wrong with it?" Iantine demanded when the notice had stayed on the board for three weeks with no-one's initials. He would shortly sit his final exams at Hall Domaize and had hopes to pass them creditably. Chalkin's what's wrong with it,' Ussie said with a cynical snort. Oh, I know his reputation,' Iantine replied, blithely flicking a paint-stained hand, everyone does. But he sets out the conditions,' and he tapped the document, and they're all the ones we're supposed to ask for. Ussie smothered a derogatory laugh in his hand and eyed him in the patronizing way that irritated lantine so. He knew he was a better draughts man and colourist than Ussie would ever be, and yet Ussie always acted so superior. lantine knew his general skills were better, and improving, because of course, in the studio, everyone had a chance to view everyone else's work. Ussie's anatomical sketches looked as if a mutant had posed as the life model . . . and his use of colour was bizarre. Ussie did much better with landscapes and was a dab hand at designing heraldry shields and icons and such peripheral art work. Yes, but you'll have to live in Bitra Hold while you're doing it, and coming into winter is not the time to live there. What? To do four miniatures? How long could it take?" Iantine had a seven-day in mind. Even for very small and active children, that should be sufficient. All right, all right, so you've always managed to get kids to sit still for you. But these are Chalkin's and if they're anything like him, you'll have the devil's own time getting them to behave long enough to get an accurate likeness. Only, I sincerely doubt that an "accurate" likeness is what is required. And I know you, Ian . . . Ussie waggled a finger at him, grinning more broadly now. You'll never be able to glamorize the little darlings enough to satisfy doting papa." But. -The last time a commission came in from Chalkin, said Chomas, joining in the conversation, Macartor was there for nine months before his work was deemed "satisfactory". Chomas jabbed his finger at the clause that began on the completion of satisfactory work'. He came back a ghost of himself and poorer than he'd started out. Macartor?" lantine knew of the painter. a capable man with a fine eye for detail, now doing murals for the new Hall at Nerat Hold. He tried to think of a reason why Macartor had not been able to deal well with Chalkin. Great man for detail, but not for portraiture,' he said. Ussie's eyebrows rose high in his long face and his grey eyes danced with mischief. So, take the commission and learn for yourself. I mean, some of us need some extra marks before Turn's End, but not so badly as we'd go to Bitra Hold to earn em. You know the reputation there for gambling? They'd sooner stop breathing than stop gambling. Oh, it can't be half as bad as they say it is,' Iantine replied. The sixteen marks, plus keep and travel expenses, is scale. Ussie ticked the points off on fingers. Travel? Well, you'd have to pay your own way there . - But he specifies travel - - Iantine protested, tapping that phrase impatiently. Hmmm, but you have to pay out for the travel there and account for every quarter mark you spent. Take you a few days to sort out right there. Chalkin's so mingy no decent cook stays with him, ditto for housekeeper, steward and any other staff, so you may end up having to cook your own meals if he doesn't charge you for the fuel to cook with. The Hold's not got central heating, and you'd want a room fire this time of the year in that region. Oh, and bring your own bed-furs, he doesn't supply them to casual workers Casual? A portraitist from Hall Domaize is not classified as a casual worker,' Iantine said indignantly. At Bitra, my friend, everyone's casual,' Chomas put in. Chalkin's never issued a fair service contract in his life. And read EVERY SINGLE WORD on the page if you are foolish enough to take the commission. Which, if you had the sense of little green apples, you won't." Chomas gave a final decisive nod of his head and continued on his way to his own work station, where he was doing fine marquetry on a desk. However, lantine had a particular need for the marks the commission would bring him. With his professional diploma all but in his hand, he wanted to start repaying what he owed his parents. His father wanted to avail himself of lantine's land allotment to extend his pasturage, but he didn't have the marks to pay the Council transfer fees: never a huge amount, but sufficient so that Ian tine's large family would have to cut back on what few luxuries they had to save the sum. it was therefore a matter of self-esteem and pride for lantine to earn the fee. His parents had given him a good start, more than he deserved considering how seldom he had been at the hold since his twelfth birthday. His mother had wished him to be a teacher, as she had been before her marriage. She had taught all the basics to him, his nine siblings and the children in the other nearby Benden mountain sheep and farm holds. And because he had shown not only a keen interest in learning but also discernible skill in sketching - filling every inch of a precious drawing book with studies of every aspect of life on the hillside hold - it had been decided to send him to the College. His help would be missed, but his father had reluctantly agreed that the lad showed more aptitude with pen and pencil than shepherd crook. His next youngest brother, who had the temperament for the work, had been ecstatic to be promoted to Iantine's tasks. Once at the College, his unusual talent and insights were instantly recognized and encouraged. Master Clisser had insisted that he do a portfolio of sketches: animal, mineral and floral'. That had been easy to collect since lantine constantly sketched and had many vignettes of unsuspecting classmates: some done at times when he should have been doing other lessons. One in particular - a favourite with Master Clissex - was of Bethany playing her guitar, bending over the instrument for intricate chording. Everyone had admired it, even Bethany. His portfolio was submitted to several private craft Halls which taught a variety of skills, from fine leather tooling to wood, glass and stone workings. None of those on the West Coast had places for another student, but the woman who was master weaver in Southern Boll had said she would contact Master Domaize in Keroon, one of the foremost portraitists on Pern, for she felt the boy's talent lay in that direction. To Iantine's astonishment, a green dragon had arrived one morning at the College, available to convey him back for a formal interview with Domaize himself. Iantine wasn't quite sure what excited him most: the ride on the dragon between, the prospect of meeting Master Domaize or the thought of being able to continue with art as a possible profession. He had been in a worse state on his return because Master Domaize, having set him the task of sketching himself, had accepted him as a student and sent off a message to his parents that very day, arranging terms. lantine's family had been astounded to receive such a message. Still more astonishing had been the information that Benden's Lord and Lady Holder were willing to pay more than half his fees. Now he must earn as much as he could, as soon as he could, to show his family that their sacrifices had not been wasted. Undoubtedly Lord Chalkin would be difficult. Undoubtedly there would be problems, but the marks promised for the commission would pay the land transfer fee. So he'd initialled the contract; a copy was made for Master Domaize's files and it had been returned to Lord Chalkin. Chalkin had demanded, and received, a verification of Iantine's skill from his Master and then returned the signed contract. Best re-read it, Ian, Ussie said when Iantine waved the document about in triumph. Why?" Iantine glanced down the page and pointed to the bottom lines. Here's my signature, and Master Domaize's, alongside Chalkin's. That is, if that's what this scrawl is supposed to be." He held it out to Ussie. Hmmm, looks all right, though I haven't seen Chalkin's hand before. My, where did they find this typewriter? Half the letters don't strike evenly." Ussie passed the document back. I'll see if there're any other examples of Lord Chalkin's signature in the files,' Iantine said, though how. . . and why - . would he deny the contract when he himself proposed it?" He's a Bitran, and you know how they are. Are you sure that's your signature?" Ussie grinned as Iantine peered with a suspicious glare at his own name. Then Ussie laughed. Sure, I'm sure it's mine. Look at the slant of the t". Just as I always make it. What are you driving at, Ussie?" Iantine felt the first twinges of irritation with Ussie's attitude. Well, Bitrans are known to forge things. Remember those bogus land transfer deeds five years ago? No, I don't suppose you'd have heard about them. You'd've still been a schoolboy." With an airy wave of his hand, Ussie left a puzzled and worried Iantine. When he brought the matter up to his master, Domaize could produce a sample of Lord Chalkin's signature on a document much creased and worn. Domaize also put his glasses up to his eyes and peered at his own name on the current contract. No, this is mine, and I recognize your slanting t-bar." He put the document in the to-do' tray. We'll copy it into our workbook. If you have any trouble though, at Bitra Hold, let me know instantly. It's much easier to sort things out when they start, you know. And don't,' and here Master Domaize had waggled a stern finger at him, allow them to entice you into any games of chance, no matter how clever you think you are. Bitrans make their living at gaming. You can't compete at their level." lantine had promised faithfully to eschew any gaming. He'd never had much interest in such things, being far more likely to sketch the players than join the game. But gambling was not a thing' that the Master would have meant. Iantine was learning. what did fall into that category: especially the nuances of the word satisfaction'. Such a simple word that can be so misconstrued. As he had done. He had done not four miniatures, but nearly twenty, using up all the materials he had brought with him so that he had had to send for more from Hall Domaize since the wood used in miniatures had to be specially seasoned or it would warp, especially in a damp environment like Bitra Hold. He had done the first four on the canvas he had brought with him for the job, only to discover - along with a long list of other objections from Lord Chalkin and his wife, Lady Nadona that canvas was not satisfactory' If it isn't the best quality,' and she ran one of her almost dragon-talon nails across one canvas, snagging a thread so badly the surface was unusable, it doesn't last long. Skybroom wood is what you should be using." Skybroom wood is expensive . You're being very well paid for these miniatures, she said. The least we can expect is the best grade of materials." Skybroom wood was not stipulated in the contract. . Did it have to be?" she demanded haughtily. I made sure that Domaize Hall has the very highest standards. Master Domaize provided me with the best canvas,' and he pushed his remaining frames out of her reach. He said that is what he always supplies. You should have stipulated sky broom wood in the contract if that's what you wanted. Of course it would be what I wanted, young man. The very best is none too good for my children." Is there any available in the Hold?" he asked. At least with sky broom you could clean off unsatisfactory' work without the risk of damaging the surface. Of course. That was his first mistake. Nevertheless, at that point he was still eager to do a proper job to the best of his abilities. However, what sky broom there was turned out to be substantial lumber, being cured for furniture, and not thin enough to be used for miniatures: miniatures' which were now twice the ordinary size. High on the list of unsatisfactory' were the poses of the children, although these had been suggested by the Lady Holder herself. Chaldon doesn't look at all natural,' Lady Nadona said. Not at all. He looks so tense, hunching his shoulders like that. Whyever did you not tell him to sit up straight?" lantine forbore to mention that he had done so frequently, and within Lady Nadona's hearing. And you've given him such an odious scowl. Which had been Chaldon's natural' expression. Standing?" he suggested, cringing at the thought of arguing any of them into standing for the sittings'. He'd had enough trouble getting them to sit still. They were, as Ussie had foreseen, not biddable and had such short attention spans that he could never get them to strike the right pose, or assume an even halfway cheerful expression. And why on earth did you paint on such a small canvas'? I'll need to use a magnifying glass,' Lady Nadona had said, holding Chaldon's likeness away from her as far as her arm would reach. lantine had known enough about his patroness by then to suppress a remark about her farsightedness. This is the customary size for a miniature - So you say,' she replied repressively. I want something I can see when I'm on the other side of the room. As she was generally on the other side of her room' whenever her children were in her vicinity, the need was understandable. They were the messiest pre-adolescents Iantine had ever encountered: plump, since they were indolent by nature, dressed in ill-fitting apparel since the Hold's seamstress was not particularly adept, and constantly eating: generally something that ran, smeared or left crumbs on their chins and tunics. None of them bathed frequently enough and their hair was long, greasy and roughly cut. Even the two girls showed no feminine interest in their appearance. One had hacked her hair off with a knife . . . except the long tress she wore down the back, strung with beads and little bells. The other had thick braids which were rarely redone unless whatever fastened the end had got lost. lantine had struggled with the porcine Chaldon, had realized that the child could not be depicted naturally' and tried to retain enough resemblance so that others would know which child had been painted. But his portrait was unsatisfactory'. Only the youngest, a sturdy lad of three who said nothing beyond No' and carried a stuffed toy with him from which he could not be parted, was deemed marginally satisfactory'. Actually the dirty bear' was the best part of Briskin's portrait. lantine had tried to romanticize Luccha's unusual hairstyle and was told that she'd look better with proper hair' which he could certainly add in if he was any good at all. And why did she have such an awkward expression on her face, when Luccha had the sweetest smile and such a lovely disposition? (Especially when she was busy trying to unite the Hold's cats by tying their tails together, Iantine had added mentally. Bitra Hold did not have a single unscathed animal, and the spit-boy said they'd lost seven dogs to accidents' that year already.) Luccha's mouth was set aslant in her face, the thin lips usually compressed in a sour line. Lonada, the second daughter, had a pudding face, with small dark holes for eyes, and her father's nose: bad enough in a male, but fatal for a female. lantine had also had to buy' a lock from the Hold steward to prevent his sleeping-furs from walking out of the narrow little cubicle in which he was quartered. He knew his packs had been searched the first day; probably several times by the variety of smeared fingerprints left on the paint pots. As he had brought nothing of real value with him - not having many possessions - he hadn't worried. Holds usually had one light-fingered person, and the Hold steward usually knew who it was and retrieved what had gone astray from guests' rooms. But when lantine found his paint pots left open to dry out, he protested. And paid' for a lock. Not that he felt all that secure, for if there was one key to that lock, there could be duplicates. But his furs did remain on his bed. And glad he was to have them, for the thin blanket supplied was holey and ought to have been torn up for rug lengths long since. That was the least of his problems at Bitra Hold, however. Having heard all that was wrong with the next set of miniatures he managed to produce, a third larger than the first, Iantine began to have a somewhat clearer grasp of just how the parents envisaged their offspring. On his fifth set, he nearly won the accolade of satisfactory'. Nearly Then the children, one after another, succumbed to an infant disease that resulted in such a rash that they could not possibly sit'. Well, you'd better do something to earn your keep, Chalkin told his contract portraitist when Lady Nadona had announced the children were isolated. The contract says I will have room and board - - -, Chalkin held up a thick forefinger, his smile not the least bit humorous. When you are honouring that contract - But the children are sick Chalkin had shrugged. That's neither here nor there. You are unable to honour the specific conditions of the contract. Therefore you are not entitled to be fed and housed at the Hold's expense. Of course, I can always deduct your leisure time from the fee . . . The smile deepened vindictively. Leisure . . . lantine had been so enraged that the protest burst from him before he could suppress it. No wonder, he thought, shaking with the control he had to enforce on himself, no-one else at Hall Domaize would sign with Bitra. Well,' Chalkin went on, as if he were a reasonable man, what else does one call it if you are not engaged in the lab ours which you are contracted for?" lantine had to wonder if Chalkin knew how necessary it was for him to earn the exact fee promised. Iantine had held no conversations with anyone in the Hold; they were so sullen and uncommunicative a group at their best - which was usually at mealtimes - that he hoped he'd be spared them at their worst. He had steadfastly refused to have a little game' with cooks or guards, which accounted for a good deal of the general animosity towards him. So how would anyone know anything about his personal life or his reasons for working here? So, instead of already being on his way home with a satisfactory contract fulfilled and the marks for the transfer fee heavy in hi pouch, lantine spent his leisure' time touching up the faces of Chalkin's ancestors in the main Hall murals. Good practice for you, I'm sure,' Chalkin had said, all too amiably, as he made his daily inspection of this project. You'll be better equipped to do satisfactory portraits of this generation." Pig faces, all of them, with the ancestral bulbous nose, lantine noticed. Oddly enough, one or two of the ancestresses had been very pretty girls, far too young and attractive for the mean-mouthed men they had been contracted to. Too bad the male genes dominated. Of course, lantine had had to make up batches of the special paints required for mural work, having initially had no idea that such would be required. He also found his supplies of the oil paints drastically reduced by the repeated unsatisfactory' portraits. He had the choice of sending back to Hall Domaize for additional supplies and paying transport charges, plus having to wait for them to reach him - or finding the raw materials and manufacturing the colours himself - which was the better option. How much?" he exclaimed in shock when the head cook told him what he'd have to pay for the eggs and oil he needed to mix into his pigments. Yiss, an' that doan include cost of hiring the equipment,' the cook added, sniffing. The man had a perpetually running nose, sometimes dripping down his upper lip. But not, Iantine devoutly hoped, into whatever he was in the process of preparing. I have to hire bowls and jars from you?" Iantine wondered how the cook could have become infected with Chalkin's greed. Well, if I ain't using em, and you is, you should pay for the use, seems like." He sniffed so deeply Iantine wondered there could be any mucus left in his sinus cavities. Shoulda brought yer stuff with ye if ye'd need it. Lord Holder sees you usin' things from his kitchen and one of us'll be paying for it. Won't be me!" And he sniffed again, shrugging one dirty white shoulder as emphasis. I came with adequate supplies and equipment for the work I was hired to do,' Iantine said, curbing an intense desire to shove the man's face in the thin soup he was stirring. So?" lantine had walked, stiff-legged with fury, out of the kitchen. He tried to tell himself that he was learning, the very hardest way, how to deal with the client. Finding the raw materials for his pigments had proved nearly as difficult since it was, after all, coming on to deep winter here in the Bitran hills. He discovered a hefty hunk of stone with a rounded end that would do as a pestle, and then a hollowed-out rock that would act as a mortar. He had found a whole hillside of the sabsab bush whose roots produced a yellow colour; enough raw cobalt to get blue, and the paw berry leaves that boiled up one of the finest pure reds with neither tint nor tinge of orange or purple. With the greatest of luck he also came across ochre mud. Rather than rent' containers, he used chipped crockery he unearthed from the midden heap. He did have to pay the price of best oil for the substandard stuff which was all the cook would sell him. And that mark, he was sure, would never be passed on to Lord Chalkin as fee. He managed to get enough saucers or mugs - they used a very cheap pottery in Bitra Hold - to hold the different colours he needed. He hadn't quite finished the repair work when Chaldon recovered sufficiently from the rash to be able to sit/ stand once more. Chaldon had lost weight during the fever which accompanied the emergence of the rash. He was also lethargic and, as long as Iantine could think up funny stories to tell as he worked, he stayed reasonably still. Calling himself the worst kind of panderer, Iantine made the boy resemble the best looking of the ancestors he'd re limned The boy was certainly pleased and ran off to find his mother, shouting that he did look like Greatgranddaddy, just as she always said he did. The same ploy did not quite work on Luccha's portrait when she had recovered. Her skin was sallower, she'd lost hair and too much weight to improve her undistinguished looks. While he had aimed for her great-grandmother thrice removed, she didn't have the right facial structure and even he had to admit the result was unsatisfactory. Her illness,' he'd mumbled when Chalkin and Nadona recited the long catalogue of dissimilarities between their daughter and the portrait. He did better with Lonada and Briskin who, several kilos lighter, had the look of his great-uncle - pinch-faced, lantern jawed and big-eared. Iantine had judiciously reduced the size of those ears even as he wondered what artist had got away with such unflattering appendages on great-uncle. He redid Luccha's after the other two: she'd put on some weight and her colour was better - not much, but better. And he set her eyes wider in her face, which improved her no end. Too bad it couldn't be done to the model. He vaguely remembered that the First Settlers had been able to remodel noses and bob ears and stuff like that. So, grudgingly and after making him touch up each of the four not-so miniature paintings to the point where he was ready to break something - their heads for preference the Lord and Lady Holder considered the four paintings satisfactory. The final critique had lasted well into the night, which was dark and stormy: the winds audible even through the three-metre-thick cliff walls. So, as he descended wearily but in great relief to the lower floor cubicle, he became aware of the intense chill in this level. The temperature in the big Hall had been somewhat warmed by the roaring fires in the four hearths, but there was no heating down here. In fact, it was so cold that lantine did no more than loosen his belt and remove his boots before crawling on to the hard surface that was supposed to be a mattress. It looked and felt like something recycled from the ships of the First Crossing. He curled up in the furs, more grateful than ever that he'd brought his own, and fell asleep. Arctic temperatures swirling about his face roused him. His face was stiff with cold and, despite the warmth of his furs, when he tried to stretch his body his muscles resisted. He had a crick in his neck and he wondered if he'd moved at all during the night. Certainly it was cold enough to have stayed in the warm of the furs. But he had to relieve himself. He crammed his feet into boot leather that was rigid with ice and, wrapping his furs tightly about himself, made his way down the corridor to the toilet. His breath was a plume of white, his cheeks and nose stung by the cold. He managed his business and returned to his room only long enough to throw on his thickest woollen jumper. With half a mind to throw his furs around him for added warmth, he ran up the several flights of stone steps, past walls that dripped with moisture. lIe paused at the first window on the upper level: solidly snowed closed. Then he went up the next short flight and opened the door into what should have been the relatively warmer kitchen area. Had every fire in the place gone out overnight? Had the spit-boys frozen on their bed-shelf? As he turned his head in their direction, his glance caught at the window. Snow was piled up against the first hand's breadth of it. He moved closer and looked out at the courtyard, but it was all one expanse of unbroken snow. Indeed, where the courtyard should have stepped down to the roadway the snow was even, concealing any depression where the road should have been. No-one moved outside. Nor were there any tracks in the expanse of snow-covered court to suggest that anyone had tried to come in from one of the outer holds. Just what I needed,' lantine said, totally depressed by what he saw. I could be trapped here for weeks!" Paying for room and board. If only the kids hadn't come down with measles . . . If only he hadn't already freshened up the murals - - How would he survive? Would he have anything left of his original fee - that had seemed so generous by the time he could leave this miserable Hold? Later that morning, when half-frozen people had begun to cope with the effects of the blizzard, he struck another bargain with the Holder Lord and Lady: and very carefully did he word it. Two full-sized portraits, each a square metre on sky broom wood to be supplied by Lord Chalkin, one of Lady Nadona and one of Lord Chalkin, head and shoulders in Gather dress, with all materials and equipment to make additional pigments supplied by the Hold; maintenance for himself and quarters on an upper floor, with morning and evening fuel for a fire on the hearth. He completed Lady Nadona's portrait without too much difficulty she would sit still, loved nothing better than to have a valid excuse for doing nothing. Half-way through the sitting, though, she wanted to change her costume, believing the red did not flatter her complexion as well as the blue. It didn't, but he talked her out of changing and subtly altered her naturally florid complexion to a kinder blush, and darkened the colour of her pale eyes so that they seemed to dominate her face. By then, he'd heard enough of the supposed resemblance between herself and Luccha so that he improved on it, giving her a more youthful appearance. When she wanted to change the collar of her dress, he improvised one he remembered seeing in an Ancient's portrait - a lacy froth which hid much of the loose skin of her neck. Not that he had painted that in, but the lace softened the whole look of her. He had not been so lucky with Chalkin. The man was psychologically unable to sit still - tapping his fingers, swinging one leg as he crossed and uncrossed them, twitching his shoulders or his face, making it basically impossible to obtain a set pose. lantine was nearly desperate now to finish and leave this dreadful place before another snowstorm. The young portraitist wondered if Chalkin's delays, and the short periods in which he would deign to sit, were yet another ploy to delay him - and rake back some of the original fee. Though Chalkin had even invited him to come into the gaming rooms - the warmest and most elegant rooms in the Hold - lantine had managed to excuse himself somehow or other. Do sit still, Lord Chalkin, I'm working on your eyes and I cannot if you keep moving them about in your face,' lantine said, rather more sharply than he had ever addressed the Lord Holder before. I beg your pardon,' said Chalkin, jerking his shoulders about angrily. Lord Chalkin, unless you wish to be portrayed with your eyes crossed, sit still for five minutes! I beg of you." Something of Iantine's frustration must have come across because Chalkin not only sat still, he glared at the portraitist. And for longer than five minutes. Working as fast as he could, Iantine completed the delicate work on the eyes. He had subtly widened them in the man's face and cleared up the oedemic pouches which sagged below them. He had made the jowly face less porcine and subtracted sufficient flesh from the bulbous nose to give it a more Roman look. He had also widened and lifted the shoulders to give a more athletic appearance, and darkened the hair. Further, he had meticulously caught the fire of the many jewelled rings. Actually, they dominated the painting, which he felt would find favour with Lord Chalkin who seemed to have more rings than days of the year. There!" he said, putting down his brush and standing back from the painting, satisfied in himself that he had done the best job possible: that is, the best job that would prove satisfactory' and allow him to leave this ghastly Hold. It's about time,' Chalkin said, slipping down from the chair and stamping over to view the result. Iantine watched his face, seeing that flash of pleasure before Chalkin's usual glum expression settled back over his features. Chalkin peered more closely, seeming to count the brush strokes although there were none, for lantine was too competent a technician to have left any. Watch the paint. It's not yet dry,' Iantine said quickly, raising his arm to ward off Chalkin's touch. Humph,' Chalkin said, shrugging his shoulders to settle his heavy jerkin. He affected to be diffident, but the way he kept looking at his own face told lantine that the man was finally pleased. Well? Is it satisfactory?" asked lantine, unable to bear the suspense any longer. Not bad, not bad but.. - and Chalkin once again put out a finger. You will not smear the paint, Lord Chalkin,' said lantine, fearing just that and then another session to repair the damage. You're a rude fellow, painter. My title is artist, Lord Chalkin, and do tell me if this portrait is satisfactory or not! Chalkin gave him a quick nervous glance, one facial muscle twitching. Even the Lord of Bitra Hold knew when he had pushed someone too hard. It's not bad Is it satisfactory, Lord Chalkin?" lantine put all the pent-up frustration and anxiety into that question. Chalk in shifted one shoulder, screwed up his face with indecision and then hastily composed his features in the more dignified pose of the portrait before him. Yes, I believe it is satisfactory. Then,' and now lantine took Lord Chalkin by the elbow and steered him towards the door, let us to your office and complete the contract." Now, see here . If it is satisfactory, I have honoured that contract and you may now settle with me for the miniatures,' Iantine said, guiding the man down the cold corridor and to his office. He tapped his foot impatiently as Chalkin took the keys from his inside pocket and opened the door. The fire within was so fierce that Iantine felt sweat blossom on his forehead. At Chalkin's abrupt gesture, he turned around while the man fiddled with wherever it was he had his strongbox. He heard, with infinite relief, the turn of the metal lock and then silence. A slamming of a lid. Here you are,' said Chalkin coldly. Iantine counted out the marks, sixteen of them, Farmermarks, but good enough since he would be using them in Benden which didn't mind Farmer-marks. The contracts?" Chalkin glared but he unlocked the drawer and extracted them, almost flinging them across the desk at lantine, who signed his name and turned them back to Chalkin. Use mine,' Iantine said when Chalkin made a show of finding a good pen in the clutter on his desk. Chalkin scrawled his name. Date it,' lantine added, wishing to have no complaint at ,-i later time. You want too much, painter. Artist, Lord Chalkin,' Iantine said with a humourless smile and turned to leave. At the door he turned again. And don't touch the painting for forty-eight hours. I will not come back if you smear it. It was satisfactory when we left the room, so keep it that way. lantine returned to collect his good brushes, but left what remained of the paints he had had to make. Last night, in a hopeful mood, he had packed everything else. Now, he took the stairs up two and three at a time, stored his brushes carefully, stuffed the signed and dated contracts into his pack shrugged into his coat, rolled up his sleeping-furs, looped both packs in one hand and was half-way down the stairs again when he met Chalkin ascending. You cannot leave now,' Chalkin protested, grabbing his arm. You have to wait until my wife has seen and approved my portrait. Oh, no, I don't, said lantine, wrenching free of the restraining hand. He was out of the main door before Chalkin could say another word, and ran down the roadway between the soiled snow banks. If he was benighted on the road in the middle of a snowstorm, he would still be safer than staying one more hour at Bitra Hold. Luckily for him, he found shelter during that next storm in a woodsman's holding some klicks away from the main Hold. Telgar Weyr, Fort Hold Guess what I found?" P'tero cried, ushering his guest into the kitchen cavern. Tisha, he's half frozen and starving of the hunger,' the young green rider added, hauling the tall fur wrapped figure towards the nearest hearth and pushing him into a chair. He deposited the packs he was carrying on to the table. Klah, for the love of little dragons, please . Two women came running, one with klah and the other with a hastily filled bowl of soup. Tisha came striding across the cavern, demanding to know what the problem was, who -had P'tero rescued and from where. No-one should be out in weather like this,' she said as she reached the table and grabbed the victim's wrist to get a pulse. All but froze, he is." - -- Tisha pulled aside the furs wrapped about his neck and - then let him take the cup. He cradled the klah in reddened - fingers, blowing before he took his first cautious sip. He was also shivering uncontrollably. I spotted an SOS on the snow - lucky for him that the sun made shadows or I'd never have seen it,' P'tero was saying, thornughly pleased with himself. Found him below Bitra Hold... Poor man,' Tisha interjected. Oh, you're so right there,' P'tero said with ironic fervour, and he'll never return. Not that he's told me all . . . and P'tero flopped to a chair when someone brought him a cup of klah. Got out of Chalkin's clutches intact . . . and P'tero grinned impishly, and then survived three nights in a Bitran woodsman's hold --- with only a half cup of old oats to sustain him - - Through his explanation, Tisha ordered hot water-bottles, warmed blankets and, taking a good look at the man's fingers, numb weed and frostbite salve. Don't think they're more than cold,' she said, removing one of his hands from its fevered grip on the hot cup and spreading the fingers out, lightly pinching the tips. No, cold enough but not harmed. Thank you, thank you," the man said, returning his fingers to the warm cup. I got so cold stamping out that emergency code And out of doors in such weather with no gloves,' Tisha chided him. When I left Domaize Hall for Bitra Hold, it was only autumn,' he said in a grating voice. Autumn?" Tisha echoed, widening her fine eyes in surprise. How long were you at Bitra Hold then?" Seven damned weeks,' the man replied, spitting out the words in a disgusted tone of voice. I had thought a week at the most Tisha laughed, her belly heaving under her broad apron. What under the stars took you to Bitra in the first place? Painter, are you?" she added. How'd you know?" The man regarded her with surprise. Still have paint under your nails Iantine inspected them and his cold-reddened face flushed a deeper red. I didn't even stop to wash,' he said. As well you didn't, considering the price Chalkin charges for such luxuries as soap,' she said, chuckling again. The women returned with the things Tisha had ordered. While they ministered to the warming of him, he clung with one hand or the other to the klah. And then to the soup cup. ijis furs, which had kept him from freezing to death, were taken to dry at one fire; his boots were removed and his toes checked for frostbite but he had been lucky there, too, so they were coated with salve for good measure and then wrapped in warm to welling while warmed blankets were snugged about his body. Salve was applied to his hands and face and then he was allowed to finish the hot food. Now, your name, and whom shall we contact to say that you've been found?" Tisha asked when all this had been done. I'm Iantine,' and then he added in wry pride, portraitist from Hall Domaize. I was contracted to do miniatures of Chalkin's children Your first mistake,' said Tisha, chuckling. lantine flushed. You're so right, but I needed the fee. Did you come away with any of it?" P'tero asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Oh, that I did,' the artist replied so fiercely that everyone grinned. Then he sighed. But I did have to part with an eighth at the woodsman's hold. He had little enough to share, but was willing to do so. At a profit, I'm sure lantine considered that for a moment. I was lucky to find any place to wait out the storm. And he did share He shrugged briefly, and a dejected look crossed his features as he sighed. Anyway, it was he who suggested I make a sign in the snow to attract any dragon rider I'm just lucky one saw me." He nodded thanks to P'tero. No problem,' the blue dragon rider said airily. Glad I came." He leaned towards Tisha across the table. He'd've been frozen solid in another day!" Were you long waiting?" Two days after the storm ended, but I spent the nights with ol' Fendler. If you're hungry enough, even tunnel snake tastes good,' lantine added. Ah, the poor laddie,' said Tisha and called out orders for a double portion of stew to be brought immediately, and bread and sweetening and some of the fruit that had been sent up from Ista. By the time lantine had finished the meal, he felt he had made up for the last four days. His feet and hands were tingling despite the numb weed and salve. When he stood to go and relieve himself, he wobbled badly and clutched at the chair for support. Have a care, lad, filling the stomach was only half your problem,' Tisha said, moving to support him with far more alacrity than her bulk would suggest. She gestured for P'tero to lend a hand. I need to . . . lantine began. Ach, it's on the way to the sleeping cavern,' Tisha told him and drew one of his arms over her shoulder. She was as tall as he. P'tero took up the packs again and between them, they got him to the toilet room. And then into a bed in an empty cubicle. Tisha checked his feet again, applied another coat of numb weed and tiptoed out. Iantine only made sure that his packs - and the precious fee were in the room with him before he fell deeply asleep. While he slept, messages went out - to Hall Domaize and to Benden Weyr and Hold, since lantine nominally looked to Benden. Although lantine had taken no lasting harm, M'shall recognized yet another instance of Chalkin taking unfair advantage. Irene had already sent in a substantial list of abuses and irregularities in Chalkin's dealings generally with folk who had no recourse against his dictates. He held no court in which difficulties could be aired, and had no impartial arbiters to make decisions. The big traders, who could be counted on for impartial comment, bypassed Bitra and could cite many examples of unfair dealings since Chalkin had assumed the Holding fifteen years before. The few small traders who ventured in Bitra rarely returned. Following that Oather and its decision to consider deposing Chalkin, M'shall had his sweep riders check in every minor bold to learn if Chalkin had duly informed his people of the imminence of Thread. None had, although Lord Chalkin had increased his tithe on every household. The manner in which he was conducting this extra tithe suggested that he was amassing supplies for his own good, not that of the Hold. Those in more isolated situations would certainly have a hard time obtaining even basic food supplies. That constituted a flagrant abuse of his position as Lord Holder. When Paulin read M'shall's report, he asked if Chalkin's holders would speak out against him. M'shall had to report that his initial survey of the minor holders indicated a severe lack of civic duty. Chalkin had his folk so cowed, none would accuse him - especially this close to a Pass, for he had still had the power to turn objectors out of their holds. They may change their minds once Thread has started,' K'vin remarked to Zulaya. Too late, I'd say, for any decent preparations to be made., K'vin shrugged. He's really not our concern - for which I, for one, am thankful. At least we rescued Jantine. Zulaya gave a wry chuckle. That poor lad! Starting his professional career at Bitra? Not the best place. Maybe that's all he could aspire to,' K'vin suggested. Not if he's from Hall Domaize,' Zulaya said tartly. Wonder how long it'll take his hands to recover?" Thinking of a new portrait?" K'vin asked, amused. Well, he's down an eighth of what he needs,' she said. K'vin gave her a wide-eyed look. You wouldn't. Of course I wouldn't,' she said with an edge to her voice. He needs something in his pocket of his own. I admire a lad who'd endure Bitra for any reason. And lantine's was an honourable one in wanting to pay the transfer fee." Wear that red Hatching dress when you sit for him,' K'vin said. Then he rubbed his chin. You know, I might have my portrait done, too." Zulaya gave him a long look. The boy may find it as hard to leave Telgar Weyr as it was Bitra. With a much fuller pouch and no maintenance subtracted And soap and hot water and decent food,' Zulaya said. According to Tisha, he'll need feeding up. He's skin and bones. When the singing woke lantine, he was totally disoriented. No-one had sung a note at Bitra Hold. And he was warm! The air was redolent of good eating odours, too. He sat up. Hands, feet and face were stiff, but the tingling was gone. And he was exceedingly hungry. The curtain across the cubicle rustled and a boy's head popped through. You're awake, Artist lantine?" the lad asked. Indeed, I am,' and lantine looked around for his clothes. Someone had undressed him and he didn't see his own clothes. I'm to help you if you need it,' the boy said, pushing half-way through the curtains. Tisha laid out clean clothes." He wrinkled a snub nose. Yours were pretty ripe, she said. lantine chuckled. They prbably were. 1 ran out of soap for washing three weeks ago. You wuz at Bitra. They charge for everything there, and the boy threw up both arms in disgust. I'm Leopol,' he added. Then he lifted the soft slippers from the pile on the StOol. Tisha said you'd better wear these, not your boots. And you're to use the salve first He held up the lidded jar. Dinner's ready." Leopol then licked his lips. And you must wait your meal until I'm ready, huh'?" Leopol nodded solemnly and then grinned. I don't mind. I'll get more because I waited." Is food in short supply at this Weyr?" lantine asked jokingly as he began to dress in the clean gear. Odd how important simple things, like freshly laundered clothing, assumed the level of luxury when you've had to do without. Leopol helped him spread the salve on his feet. They were still tender to the touch and even the act of applying the salve made them suddenly itchy. Fortunately the numb weed or whatever it was, reduced that sensation. When he had relieved himself again and gingerly washed face and hands, he and Leopol made their way to the Lower Cavern where the evening meal was in progress. The lad led him to a side table near the hearth which had been set for two. Instantly cooks descended with plates overflowing with food, wine for him and klah for Leopol. There now, Artist man,' the cook said, nodding appreciation as lantine attacked the roast meat, eat first and then the Weyrleaders would like a few words with you, if you're not too tired." lantine murmured thanks and understanding and addressed himself single-mindedly to his food. How long had it been since he'd eaten a decent meal? He would have had additional servings of the main course, but his stomach felt uneasy: too much good food after several days of semi-fasting, probably. Leopol brought him a large serving of the sweet course, but he couldn't finish it all because the back of his throat felt raw and sore. He would have gone back to his bed then, but he saw the Weyrleaders advancing on him. Leopol made a discreet exit, grinning reassurance at him. Ian tine tried to stand in courtesy to his hosts, but he wobbled on his numbed feet and dropped back into the chair. We don't stand much on ceremony here,' Zulaya said, gesturing for him to stay seated as K'vin pulled out one chair for her. He carried the wine-skin from which he filled all the glasses. lantine took a polite sip - it was a nice crisp wine - but even the one sip made his stomach feel sourer. Messages have been sent, and acknowledgments received, that you've been rescued,' K'vin said, grinning over the last word. Master Domaize was becoming worried, so we saved him a messenger to Bitra." That's very good of you, Zulaya, K'vin,' lantine said, thankful that part of his training at Hall Domaize had included knowing the important names in every Hold, Weyr and Hall. I certainly appreciated P'tero's rescue." Zulaya grinned. He'll be dining out on that one for the rest of the year. But it proves the wisdom of sweep riding even during the Interval." You should know,' lantine blurted out, that Lord Chalkin doesn't believe there will be a Pass." Of course not,' K'vin replied easily. It doesn't suit him to. Bridgely and M'shall would like a report from you, though, concerning your visit there." You mean, there's something that can be done about him?" lantine was amazed. Lord Holders were autonomous within their borders; he hadn't known there'd be any recourse. He may do himself in,' Zulaya said with a grim twist of her lips. That would be wonderful,' said lantine. Only,' and now honesty forced him to admit this, he didn't really do anything to me. Our Weyr artist may not be trained,' K'vin said, but Waine informed me that it doesn't take seven weeks to do four miniatures I actually painted twenty-two to get four that they liked,' lantine explained, clearing his throat grimly. The hooker in the contract was the word "satisfactory" Ah,' Zulaya and K'vin said in chorus. I ran out of paint and canvas because I brought only what I thought I'd need. He lifted his hands, then rubbed them because they were beginning to itch again. Then the children all got measles and so, rather than have anything deducted from the fee for room and board, I agreed to freshen up the Hold murals . . . only I hadn't brought that sort of paint and had to manufacture the colours . Did he charge you for the use of the equipment?" Zulaya asked to lantine's astonishment. How did you know?" When she only laughed and waved at him to continue his telling, lantine went on, So I excavated what I needed in the midden Good for you Zulaya clapped her hands, delighted by his resourcefulness, Fortunately, most of the raw materials for pigments are readily available. You only have to find them and make the colours up. Which I'd have to do anyhow. Master Domaize was good about passing on techniques like that. Then I finally got them to accept the miniatures, which weren't exactly miniature size any more, by the way, just before the first blizzard snowed me in." lantine flushed; his narrative showed him to be such a ninny. So? What did you contract for then?" Zulaya shot K'vin a knowing look. I was a bit wiser. Or so I thought,' he said with a grimace and then told them the clauses he'd insisted on. He had you on the drudges' level at Bitra?" Zulaya was appalled. And you a diploma'd artist? I would protest about that! There are certain courtesies which most Holds, Halls and Weyrs accord a student of a craft, and certainly to an artist!" So, when Lord Chalkin finally accepted his portrait, I made tracks away as fast as I could!" K'vin clapped him on the shoulder, grinning at the fervour with which that statement came out. Not that my conditions improved that much,' lantine added quickly and then grinned, until P'tero rescued me." His throat kept clogging up and he had to clear it again. I want to thank you very much for that. I hope I didn't keep him from proper duties. No, no,' K'vin said. Mind you, I'm not all that sure why he was over Bitra, but it's as well he was. How are your hands'?" Zulaya asked, looking down at him as he washed' his itching fingers together. I shouldn't rub the skin, should I?" Zulaya spoke over her shoulder. Leopol, get the numb weed for lantine, please." The young artist hadn't noticed the boy's discreet presence, but he was glad he didn't have to walk all the way to the cubicle to get the salve. It's just the after-effects of cold,' he said, looking at his fingers, and noticing what Tisha had - pigment under the nails. He curled his fingers, ashamed to be at a Weyr table with dirty hands. And a deep shiver went down his spine. I was wondering, lantine,' Zulaya began, if you'd feel up to doing another portrait or two? The Weyr pays the usual rates, and no extras charged against you. lantine protested. I'd gladly do your portrait, Weyrwoman. It is of yourself you were speaking, isn't it?" That first shiver was followed by another which he did his best to mask. You'll do it only if you are paid a proper fee, young man,' Zulaya said sternly. But No buts,' K'vin put in. What with preparations for a Pass, neither Zulaya nor I have had the time to commission proper portraits. However, since you're here . . . and willing?" I'm willing, all right, but you don't know my work and I'm only just accredited Zulaya caught his hands in hers, for he'd been wildly gesticulating in both eagerness and an attempt to disguise another spasm. Artist lantine, if you managed to do four miniatures and two formal portraits, and refresh murals for Chalkin, you're more than qualified. Didn't you know that it took Macartor five months to finish Chalkin's wedding-day scene?" And he had to borrow marks from an engineer to pay off the last of his "debt"?" K'vin added. Here's Waine to greet you. But you're not to start work again until you're completely recovered from the cold." Oh, I'm recovered, I'm wcovered, lantine said, standing up as the Weyrleaders did, determined to control the next set of shiverings. After they had introduced him to the little man, Waine, they left him, circulating to other tables as the Weyr relaxed. There was singing and guitar playing from one side of the room, cheerful noises, above a general level of easy conversation. That was something else which lantine only now realized had been totally absent at Bitra Hold: music, talk, people relaxing after a day's work. Heard you ran afoul a' Chalkin?" Waine said, grinning and ducking his head. Then he brought from behind his back a sheaf of large-sized paper sheets, neatly tied together, and a handful of pencils. Thought you might need em, like,' he said shyly. Heard tell you used up all at Bitra. Thank you,' lantine replied, running his fingers appreciatively over the fine sheets and noticing that the pencils were of different weights of carbon. How much do I owe you?" Waine laughed, showing gaps in his teeth. You been at Bitra too long, Artist man. I've colours, too, but not many. Don't do more'n basics." Then let me make you a range of paints,' lantine said gratefully, gritting his teeth against yet another onslaught of ague. You know where to find the raw stuff around here, and I'll show you how I make the tints." Waine grinned toothlessly again. That's a right good trade. He held out a hand and nearly crushed lantine's fingers with his enthusiasm. But he caught the paroxysm of almost uncontrollable shivering which lantine could not hide. Hey, man, you're cold. I can't seem to stop shivering, for all that I'm on top of the fire,' and lantine had to surrender to the shaking. TIS HA lantine was embarrassed by Waine's bellow for assistance, but he didn't resist when he was bundled back into his quarters and the medic summoned while Tisha ordered more furs, hot water-bottles, aromatics to be steeped in hot water to make breathing easier. He made no resistance to the medication that was immediately prescribed for him because, by then, his head had started to ache. So did his bones. The last thing he remembered before he drifted off to an uneasy sleep was what Maranis, the medic, said to Tisha. Let's hope they all have it at Bitra for giving it to him!" Much later Leopol told him that Tisha had stayed by his bedside three nights while he burned of the mountain fever he had caught, compounding his illness by exposure on the cold slopes. Maranis felt that the old woodsman might be a carrier for the disease: himself immune, but able to transmit the fever. lantine was amazed to find his mother there when he woke from the fever. Her eyes were red with crying and she burst into tears again when she realized he was no longer delirious. Leopol also told him that Tisha had insisted she be sent for when his fever lasted so long. To lantine's astonishment, his mother didn't seem as pleased to receive the transfer fee as he was to give it. Your life isn't worth the fee,' she told him finally when he was afraid she was displeased with the missing eighth mark he'd had to give the woodsman. And he nearly killed you for that eighth." He's a good lad you have for a son,' Tisha said with an edge to her voice, working that hard to earn money from Chalkin. Oh yes,' his mother hastily agreed as she suddenly realized she ought to be more grateful. Though why ever you sought to please that old skinflint is beyond me. The fee was right,' lantine said weakly. Don't take on so, now, Ian,' Tisha said when his mother had to return to the sheep hold She was far more worried about you than about the marks. Which shows her heart's in the right place. Worry makes people act odd, you know." She patted lantine's shoulder. She wanted to take you home and nurse you there,' she went on reassuringly. But couldn't risk your lungs in the cold of between. I don't think she liked us taking care of you!" She grinned. Mothers never trust others, you know. lantine managed a grin back at Tisha. I guess that's it." It was Leopol who restored lantine's peace of mind. You gotta real nice mother, you know,' he said, sitting on the end of the bed. Worried herself sick about leaving until P'tero promised to convey her again if you took any turn for the worst. She'd never ridden a dragon before. lantine chuckled. No, I don't think she has. Must have frightened her. Not as much,' and now Leopol cocked a slightly dirty finger at the artist, as you being so sick she had to be sent for. But she was telling P'tero how happy your father would be to have those marks you earned. Real happy. And she near deafened P'tero, shouting about how she'd always known you'd be a success, and to get the whole fee out of Chalkin was quite an achievement. She did?" lantine perked up. His mother had been bragging about him? She did indeed,' Leopol said, giving an emphatic nod to his head. Leopol seemed to know a great deal about a lot of matters in the Weyr. He also never seemed to mind being sent on errands as lantine made a slow convalescence. Master Domaize paid him a visit, too. And it was Leopol w.h? told the convalescent why the Master had made such a visit. That Lord Chalkin sent a complaint to Master Domaize that you had skived out of the Hold without any courtesy and he was seriously considering lodging a demand for the return of some of the fee since you were so obviously very new at your art, and the fee had been for a seasoned painter, not a young upstart." Leopol grinned at lantine's furious reaction. Oh, don't worry. Your master wasn't born yesterday. M'shall himself brought him to Bitra Hold, and they said that there was not a thing wrong with any of the work you'd done for that Lord Chalkin." He cocked his head to one side, regarding lantine with a calculating look. Seems like there's lot of people wanting to sit their portraits with you. Didja know that?" lantine shook his head, trying to absorb the injustice of Chalkin's objection. He was speechless with fury. Leopol grinned again. Don't worry, lantine. Chalkin's the one should worry, treating you like that. Your Master and the Benden Weyrleader gave out to that Lord Holder about it, too. You're qualified, and entitled to all the courtesies of which you got none at Bitra Hold. Good thing you didn't get sick until after Zulaya and K'vin had a chance to hear your side of the story. Not that anyone would believe Chalkin, no matter what he says. Did you know that even wherries won t roost in Bitra Hold?" Convalescence from the lung infection took time and lantine fretted at his weakness. I keep falling asleep,' he complained to Tisha one morning when she arrived with his potion. How long do I have to keep taking this stuff?" Until Maranis hears clear lungs in you,' she said in her no-nonsense tone. Then she handed him the sketch paper and pencils that Waine had given him on his first night in the Weyr. Get your hand back in. At least doing what you're best at can be done sitting still. It was good to have paper and pencil again. lt was good to look about the Lower Caverns and catch poses, especially when the poser didn't realize he was being sketched. And his eye had not lost its keenness, and if his fingers cramped now and then from weakness, strength gradually returned. He became unaware of the passage of time, nor did he notice people coming up behind him to see what he was drawing just then. Waine arrived with mortar, pestle, oil, eggs and cobalt to make a good blue. The man had picked up bits of technique and procedures on his own, but picking things up here and there was no substitute for the concentrated drill which lantine had had: drills that he had once despised but now appreciated when he could see what resulted from the lack of them. Winter had set in but on the first day of full sun, Tisha insisted on wrapping him up in a cocoon of furs to sit out in the Bowl for the good of fresh air'. As it was bath-time for the drago nets lantine was immediately fascinated by their antics and began to appreciate just how much hard work went into their nurture. It was also the first chance he'd ever had of seeing drago nets He knew the grace and power of the adult dragons and their awesome appearance. Now he saw the weyrlings as mischievous - even naughty, as one ducked her rider into the lake - and endlessly inventive. None of this last Hatching were ready to fly yet, but some of the previous clutch were beginning to take on adult duties. He had first-hand observation of their not-so-graceful performances. The next day he saw P'tero and blue Ormonth in the focus of some sort of large class. As he wandered over, he saw that not only the weyrlings from the last three Hatchings were attending but also all youngsters above the age of twelve. Ormonth had one wing extended and was gazing at it in an abstract fashion, as if he'd never seen it before. The expression was too much for the artist in lantine and he flipped open his pad and sketched the scene. P'tero noticed, but the class was being extremely attentive. What T'dam was saying slowly reached through lantine's absorption with line and pose. Now, records show us that the worst injuries occur on wing edges, especially if Thread falls in clumps and the partners are not sharp enough to avoid em. A dragon can fly with one third of his exterior sail damaged and T'dam ran his hand along the edge of Ormonth's wing. However,' and T'dam looked up at Ormonth, if you would be good enough to close your wing slightly, Ormonth,' and the blue did so. Thank you - T'dam had to stand slightly on tip-toe to reach the area of the inner wing. Injuries in here are far more serious as Thread can, depending on the angle of its fall, sear through the wing and into his body. This,' and he now ducked under the wing and tapped the side, is where the lungs are and injury here can even be fatal There was a gasp around the semi-circle of his students. That's why you have to be sharp every instant you're in flight. Go between the instant you even suspect you've been hit. -How do we know?" someone asked. Ha!" T'dam propped his fists on his thick leather belt and paused. Dragons are very brave creatures for the most part, considering what we ask them to do. But,' and he stroked Ormonth in apology, they have exceedingly quick responses ... especially to pain. You'll know!" He paused again. Some of you were here when Missath broke her sail bone, weren't you?" and he pointed around the group until he saw several hands raised. Remember how she squealed?" Went right through me like a bone cutter - a big lad said and shivered convulsively. She was squealing the instant she lost her balance and actually before she snapped the bone. She knew she would hurt even as she fell. Now, you don't have quite the same immediacy in Threadfall since you'll be high on adrenalin, but you'll know. So, this brings up a point that we make constantly in all training procedures, always, ALWAYS have a point to go to in your head. During Fall, it had better be the Weyr since everyone here,' and now the sweep of his hand included those Ian tine recognized as non-riders, will be ready to help. DON'T make the mistake of coming in too low. Going between will have stopped Thread burrowing further into your dragon... A muted chorus of disgust and fearfulness greeted that concept. . . . So you can make as orderly a landing as injuries permit. What you don't need is a bad landing which could compound the original Thread score. Start encouraging your dragon as soon as you know he's been hit. Of course, you may be hit too, and I appreciate that, but you're riders and you can certainly control your own pain while seeing to your dragon's. HE's the important one of you, remember. Without him you don't function as a rider. Now, the drill is,' and once again he swept his glance around his students, slather!" He picked up the wide brush F from the pail at his feet and began to ply it on Ormonth's wing: water, to judge the way it dripped. The blue regarded the operation with lightly whirling eyes. Slather, slather, slather,' and T'dam emphasized each repetition with a long brush stroke. You can't put too much numb weed on a dragon's injuries to suit him or her,' and he grinned at the female green riders, and the injury will be numb in exactly three seconds at least the outer area. It does take time to penetrate through the epidermis to what passes for the germinative layer in a dragon's hide. So you may have to convince your dragon that he's not as badly hurt as he or she feels. Your injured dragon needs all the reassurance you can give... No matter how bad you think the injury looks, don't think that at the dragon. Tell him or her what a great brave dragon they are, and that the numb weed is working and the pain will go away. Now, if a bone has been penetrated - - - Why, you've got P'tero to the life,' said an awed voice softly in lantine's ear, and he shot a glance at the tall lad standing behind him: M'leng, green Sith's rider, and P'tero's special friend. lantine had seen the two riders, always together, in the kitchen cavern. Oooh, is there any chance I could have that corner?" And he tapped the portion which contained P'tero and Ormonth. M'leng was a handsome young man, with almond-shaped green eyes in an angular face. The light breeze in the Bowl ruffled tight dark brown curls on his head. Since I owe P'tero my life, let me make a larger sketch for you Oh, would you?" And a smile animated M'leng's rather solemn face. Can we settle a price? I've marks enough to do better than Chalkin did you!" He reached for his belt pouch. lantine tried to demur, pleading he owed P'tero. Tero was only doing his duty for once,' M'leng said with a touch of asperity. But I really would like a proper portrait of him. You know, what with Threadfall coming and all, I'd want to have something..." M'leng broke off, swallowed, and then reinforced his pleading. I've to do a commission for the Weyrleaders . . . lantine said. Is that the only one?" M'leng seemed surprised. I'd've thought everyone in the Weyr would be after you lantine grinned. Tisha hasn't released me from her care yet. Oh, her,' and M'leng dismissed the head woman with a wave of his hand. She's so fussy at times. But there's nothing wrong with your hand or your eye . . . and that little pose of P'tero, leaning against Ormonth, why it's him!" lantine felt his spirits rise at the compliment because the sketch of the blue rider was good - better than the false ones he had done at Bitra Hold. He still cringed, remembering how he had allowed himself to compromise his standards by contriving such obsequious portrayals. He hoped he would never be in such a position again. M'leng's comment was balto his psyche. I can do better But I like the pose. Can't you just do it? I mean, and M'leng looked everywhere but at lantine, I'd rather P'tero didn't know.. . I mean . Is it to be a surprise for him?" No, it's to be for me!" And M'leng jabbed his bwastbone with his thumb, his manner defiant. So I'll have it At such intransigence, lantine was at a loss and hastily agreed before M'leng became more emotional. His eyes had filled and he set his mouth in a stubborn line. I will, of course, but a sitting would help Oh, 1 can arrange that, so he still doesn't know. You're always sketching,' and that came out almost as an accusation. Ian tine was - thanks to the lecture he had been overhearing considerably more aware now of the dangers dragons, and their riders, would shortly face. If M'leng was comforted by having a portrait of his friend, that was the least Ian tine could do. This very night,' M'leng continued, single-minded in his objective, I'll see we sit close to where you usually do. I'll get him to wear his good tunic so you can paint him at his very best. But suppose - . . lantine began, wondering how he could keep P'tero from knowing he was being done. You do the portrait,' M'leng said, patting lantine's arm to still his objections. I'll take care of P'tero - - - and he added under his breath, as long as I have him." That little afterthought made the breath stop in lantine's throat. Was M'Leng so sure that P'tero would die'? I'll do my best, M'leng, you may be sure of that!" Oh, I am,' said M'leng, tossing his head up so that the curls fell back from his face. He gave lantine a wry smile. I've been watching how you work, you see." He extended a hand soft with the oils riders used to tend their dragons. lantine took it and was astonished at the strength in the green rider's grip. Waine said a good miniature - which is what I want,' and he patted his breast pocket to show the intended site of the painting, by an artist is priced at four marks. Is that correct?" lantine nodded, unable to speak for the lump in his throat. Surely M'leng was dramatizing matters? Or was he? In the background, lantine could hear T'dam advising his listeners on the types and severity of injuries and the immediate aid to be given to each variety. What a bizarre, and cruel, lecture to give to the weyrlings! And yet - the thought stopped him - was it not kinder to be truthful now and ease the shock of what could possibly happen? This evening?" M'leng said firmly. This very evening, M'leng,' lantine agreed, nodding his head. When the green rider had left him, it took the young artist some long moments before he could return to his sketching. Well, this was one thing he could do as a gift to the Weyr for all their kindnesses to him - he could leave behind a graphic gallery of everyone currently living in Telgar Weyr! Fort Hold Classes were also being held that same day in Fort Hold. in the College assembly room, Corey, as Head Medic, was conducting a seminar for healers from all over Pern who had been flown in for a three-day clinic. This included a first-aid session dealing with both human and dragon injuries. She was assisted by the Fort Weyr medic, N'ran, who had originally studied animal medicine before he had inadvertently Impressed brown Galath. Galath, on this occasion, was outside, enjoying the sun, while a green dragon, who was small enough to fit in the Hall, was being used for demonstration purposes much as Ormonth was at Telgar Weyr. Now we have been able to duplicate the records of Doctors Tomlinson, Marchane and Lao which include some fading photos of actual injuries. Lunch is fortunately sufficiently in the future,' she said with a quirky smile. Then her expression turned sober. The verbal descriptions are worse, but it's necessary to impress on all those who have to deal with a man began and his ground injuries how incredibly fast,' she ticked off one finger, how horrendous Thread is,' another and then with a sigh, and how quickly we must act to . her pause was longer now, . . . to limit suffering. Murmurs answered her and she could see that some of the audience had paled. Others looked defiant. From what I, and my staff,' and she indicated those in the front seat, have determined, there is little option. The alternative of getting into cold between as the dragons can is not available to us . . . Yes?" Why not? If that's an alternative . . -. For them, not us,' she said firmly. Because all the records emphasize the speed with which Thread... consumes organic material. Too swiftly to call a dragon, even if any were available, in your locale. A whole cow goes in less than two minutes. Why, that's not even time to voice trailed off. Precisely,' Corey agreed. If a limb is scored, there's the chance it could be amputated before the organism spreads over the body Shards! You can't just . . . another man began. If survival means loss of just a limb, it can be done. But only if you're right there . Corey recognized him as a practitioner in a large hold in Nerat. And many of us will be right there,' Corey said firmly, with the ground crews, sharing their dangers and hopefully saving as many as we can." She managed a wry smile. Any body of water handy is useful since Thread drowns. Quickly, according to reports. Depending on the site of the injury, water can impede the ingestion long enough for an amputation to be performed. Even a trough is sufficient." She glanced down at her notes. Thread needs oxygen as well as organic material. It drowns in three seconds." What if it's burrowed into flesh?" Three seconds. Flesh does not have the free oxygen necessary for Thread life. Ice, too, can retard progress, but that isn't always available either. Let us assume that we have, somehow, halted the organism's progress but we have a bad scoring and/ or an amputation. Numbweed, numb weed numb weed And bless this planet for inventing something it didn't know we'd need so badly. In the case of an amputation, of course, proceed with standard practices, including cautery. That at least would eliminate any final vestige of Thread. There will be significant trauma so fell is is recommended if the patient is still conscious. She glanced down at her notes. Tomlinson and Marchane also indicate that the mortality rate, due to heart failure or stroke, is high in Thread injuries. Lao, who practised until the end of the First Pass, notes that often patients who had received slight scores, successfully treated, died from the pathological trauma of being scored. In preparing our groups fcr this problem, do stress that Threadscore can be successfully treated. If we can move fast enough,' a man said facetiously. That's why it's important for a medic to accompany as many ground-crew teams as possible. And why first-aid procedures must be taught to every Hold and Hall within your practice. There are only so many of us, but we can teach many what to do and cut down on fatalities. And,' Corey went on, we must emphasize that all nonessential personnel is to STAY safely indoors until ground crews report the area safe. Now, we will go on to dragon injuries since these, too. will occur and those of us on the spot may need to assist the dragon and rider. They will have the one advantage we can't provide - the chance to go between and freeze the attacking organism. But the score will be just as painful. The larger proportion of draconic injuries are to the wing surfaces . . . if you please, Balzith,' and she turned to the patient green dragon and she obediently extended her wing as the medic conducted that section of her lecture. When they had adjourned for lunch, prior to discussing other problems - such as hygiene and sanitation within small and medium holds where the amenities were not as efficient as in the larger population cent res - Corey was approached by Joanson of South Boll and Frenkal of Tillek Hold, both senior medics. Corey, what is your position on... mercy?" asked Joanson in a very thoughtful tone. She regarded the tall man for a long moment. What it has always been, Joanson. We have, as you realize, quite a few persons in this audience who have not received full medical training. I cannot ask them to do what I would find very, very difficult to do: administer mercy." She gave Joanson a long stare, then glanced at Frenkal who seemed to enjoy the ethical spot she was in. We are sworn to preserve life. We are also sworn to maintain a decent quality of life for those under our care." She felt her lips twitch, remembering that there were occasions when those two aims were in conflict. We must, each of us, reflect on how we will face such a desperate situation: whether to cut short a final agony is necessary, even ethical. I don't think there will be much time to consider morals, ethics, kind or cruel, at the time we are forced to take action." She paused, took a deep breath. I do remember seeing the tapes the Infirmary used to have, showing very graphically an animal being eaten alive by Thread .. . She noticed Joanson's wince. Yes, eaten alive because Thread caught the hind end of it. I think, if it was someone you knew, you'd opt for the quickest possible end to that." Since they were not the only two who approached her on that subject, she was almost glad when the lunch break ended and she could address the less vex ious matter of amputation. Everyone needed a refresher on that procedure, especially an emergency type of operation when there might not be time for all the preliminaries that made for a neat stump. She did have the new bone cutters - well, more axes than the traditional surgical tool - for distribution afterwards. Kalvi had brought them with him. Best edge we've ever been able to make on a surgical tool, Corey,' he told her with some pride. Had them tested at the abattoir. Cut through flesh and bone like going through cheese. Gotta keep em honed, though. And I've made eases for the blades so no-one slices off a finger by mistake. Surgeons were not the only ones with a ghoulish sen se of humour, Corey decided. Meanwhile, in the Great Hall of Fort Hold, with Lord Paulin seated in the front row, Kalvi himself was demonstrating to those who would form the Fort ground crews how to use and service the HNO3 cylinders, taking his audience from assembly of the parts and then a quick rundown of common problems likely to be encountered in the field, Every small holder within Fort's authority was present; many had brought their elder children. All had come on foot, their own or on horseback. Fort Weyr, like the other five, was beginning to restrict dragon rides. Lord Paulin understood and approved. We've had it far too easy, using the dragons the way our ancestors would have used the sleds and airborne vehicles, he was heard to say when one of his holders complained that he had been denied his right to a dragon ride We haven't been breeding horses just to run races, you know. And the dragon riders have been far too accommodating. Do us all good to walk or ride. You have, of course, extended your beast holds to shelter all your livestock?" There had been moaning over that necessity, too, with complaints that the engineers should really have spent more time trying to replicate the marvellous rock-cutting equipment with which their ancestors had wrested living quarters out of cliff-sides. Kalvi had come in for considerable harangue over that, which he shrugged off. We have a list of priorities: that's not one. Nor could be. We still have two sleds in the north, but no power to run em. Never did find out what they used,' he said. No way of duplicating such power packs either, or I'm sure our ancestors would have. Otherwise why did they engineer the dragons? Anyway, renewable resources make more sense than erudite or exotic imports." When the main lecture was concluded, everyone was told to reassemble after the noon meal for target practice. This was vastly more interesting than having to listen to Kalvi waffle on about how to adjust the wands of the HNO3 throwers to give a long, narrow tongue of fire or a broader, shorter flame. Or how to clear the nozzle of clogged matter. You've got almost as much variation in flame as a dragon has..." Kalvi said as he slung the tanks to his back, his voice slightly muffled by his safety gear. You, there, the hard hat has a purpose. Put it on your head! Lower the face screen!" The offender immediately complied, Kalvi scowling at him. The effective range of this equipment is six me tres on the narrowest setting, two on the broader. You wouldn't want it to get closer to you..." He was fiddling with his wand. Damn thing's stubborn He took out a screwdriver and made a slight adjustment. ALWAYS . . . he said loudly and firmly as he held the wand away from his body, keep the nozzle of the wand pointed away from YOU and anyone in your immediate vicinity. We're flaming Thread, not folks. NEVER . . . never . . . engage the flow of the two gases without looking in what direction the wand is pointing. You can also burn, scorch, sear things without meaning to. CAN'T YOU, Laland?" he said, aiming his remark at one of his students. The man grinned and shifted his feet nervously, looking anywhere but at his Master. Now, signal the topside crews, will you, Paulin?" said Kalvi, setting himself firmly on both feet and aiming the wand up. Paulin waved a red kerchief and suddenly a tangle of something' catapulted off the cliff, startling everyone in the crowd behind Kalvi. Those with wands raised them defensively and others gasped as the tangle separated into long silver strands - some fine, some thick and falling at slightly different rates. As soon as they were within range, Kalvi activated his flame-thrower. There was a brief second when the fire seemed to pause on the ends of the launched strands before the flame raced along the material and consumed it so that only bits of smoking char reached the ground . . . and the rock that had been tied to the leading edge. There was a roar of pprova and great applause. Not bad,' Paulin said, grinning as he noted the new alertness in the crowd. Well, we tried for the effect we just delivered,' said Kalvi, turning off both tanks. Used a retardant on the rope, too. Had plenty of description of how Thread falls, and this is as near as we can get. Now,' and he turned back to his students, it's best to get Thread before it gets to you or to the ground. We know there are two kinds: first the ones that eat themselves dead - they're not a problem, even if they are in the majority and messy. Records tell us that the second kind find something in what they ingest that allows them to progress to the second step of their life-cycle; our ancestors never could do much with investigating this type. They only knew that it existed. We know it existed, too, because there are areas here in the north which are still sterile two hundred-odd years since the last Fall. If this type gets the nourishment it needs, above and beyond organic materials, then it can propagate, or divide or whatever it is Thread does. This is what ground crews were needed for. This is the type we don't want hanging around and burrowing out of sight. Our ancestors thought Thread had to have some trace minerals or elements in the dirt but, as they never figured out what, we're not likely to now." Kalvi heaved a sigh of regret. So,' and with a wide sweep of his arm, we incinerate all the buggers the dragon riders miss!" He paused and looked up the cliff-side where the catapult crews were waiting. OK UP THERE?" he yelled, hands bracketing his mouth. Immediately in response, red flags were waved at intervals along the cliff. All right, in groups of five, range yourself parallel to the red flags you now see. When we're all in place - and out of range of anyone's wand,' and Kalvi gave a wry grin, I'll give the signal and we'll see how you manage. The results were somewhat erratic: some men seemed to get the hang of their equipment immediately, while others couldn't even get the right mix on the gases to produce flame. Well, it happens,' Kalvi said in patient resignation. Should make em climb the thread back up the cliff he added. Do em good." Take too much time. THROW DOWN THE NETS,' Kalvi roared and then grinned at Paulin. Thought we'd have some trouble. We'll get our mock threads back up and in use." How much did you bring?" Yards,' was all Kalvi said with another grin. By the time the short winter afternoon was closing into darkness, all the holders had had a chance to sear' thread despite hiccups and misses. The mock thread supply ran out before they lost interest in the practice. Now I don't want you to overdo it on your own,' Paulin said to those nearest him as they walked back to the Hold. The practice area had been some distance up the North Road from Fort Hold, where there were neither beasts nor cot holds that could be affected. HNO3 isn't all that hard to manufacture, but the equipment is. Don't wear it out before it's needed. During their practice, the main Hall had been rearranged for the evening meal and the trainees were as hungry as gatherers. Tomorrow we'll clean the gear,' Kalvi announced while klah was being served, and you'll strip down and reassemble the units so I'm sure you know what you're doing. The man who does it fastest and best will get Lord Paulin's reward." A loud cheer resounded through the Hall. Morale's good,' Paulin said to Kalvi who nodded, well satisfied with the way this first instruction session had gone. If all of those meetings planned for the Head Engineer at the other major holds went as smoothly, Kalvi thought he might even get a chance for a few days off to fish in Istan waters. In the frantic search during the run-up to the Second Pass for materials long left in storage, some reels of stout nylon fishing line had been found. The bar-coding on the carton had been damaged so there was no way of knowing how long ago the line had been manufactured, but Kalvi Was eager to put it to the test with some of the big uns that 5wa in the tropical waters. This sort of synthetic material was extremely durable and would certainly take the weight of pack fish which could sometimes be quite substantial. A third group made up of teachers - novices and experienced were gathered in the College's spacious refectory. Today this convocation had the happier task, learning and rehearsing the new Ballads which were to be used in teaching the young. On the second day the Fort Weyrleader would instruct the peripatetic teachers on how best to shelter themselves if they should be caught out during Threadfall. Clisser had been inundated with complaints that the Weyrs were restricting rides which had been the accustomed mode of transport. Not all the teachers were familiar with, nor competent to ride, the sturdy horses that had been bred for long-distance and mountain travel. He was going to have to reassign a lot of his older teachers, yet another headache. But for this three-day period at least, the emphasis would be on the music and the new curriculum. Not that he hadn't had contentious reactions to that. He was beginning to think that Bethany had had the right of it when she suggested that they, like the first Settlers, had relied too heavily on easy access to information. Oddly enough, some of the older teachers loudly approved the new curriculum. High time we brought things up to date, with relevance to the life we're leading here, not what folks had there,' Layrence of Tillek said, stuff we'll never have, so what's the point of quizzing them on it?" But we have traditions we must uphold,' Sallisha said, her brow creased in a frown. Which made Clisser realize once again that her reputation for being a right wagon' was not without merit. Traditions which they must understand to appreciate what we have Oh, Sallisha,' and Bethany smiled in her soothing way, we're incorporating all those traditions in the Ballads but stressing what they need to understand of the life they have here." But our glorious past . . . Sallisha began. Is past,' Sheledon said forcefully, scowling right back at her. All past, all gone, and why dwell on contacts our ancestors severed for their own good reasons?" But - - but - - - they should know - - - Sallisha began again. If they wish to know more, they can read it. . . Sheledon said, for advanced study. Right now, they have to cope with the problem of Threadfall. . And that's far more important than which planets outlasted the Nathi bombardments and who was World Leader in 2089,' said Shulse. Or how to plot a parabolic course around a primary. Sallisha glared implacably at the maths teacher. Of course,' Shulse went on, I do approve of mentioning such history where it pertains to Emily Boll as Governor, or Paul Benden as Admiral of the Fleet, because they are part and parcel of Pernese history." But you have to show students the overall picture - - -. Sallisha was persistence itself. And some students will be vitally interested, I'm sure,' Shulse said, but I agree with Clisser that we have to streamline the material to be studied to the point where it has relevance to this world and our civilization." Civilization?" Sallisha said at her most scornful. What? You don't call what we've made here "civilized"?" Sheledon loved to tease the literal-minded Sallisha. Not in terms of what our ancestors had." And all that went with a high-tech society - like prepubescent addicts, city gangs, wild plagues, so much tech fraud that people were stuffing credits in their mattresses to protect their income, the Spare me,' Sallisha said contemptuously, and concentrate on the good that was done Sheledon gave a chuckle. D'you know how dangerous it was to be a teacher on old Earth?" Nonsense, our civilization,' and she emphasized the word, revered professors and instructors on every level. Only after they were allowed class-room discipline Sheledon began. And the use of stunners,' added Shulse. That is not a problem on Pern,' Sallisha said loftily. And we'll keep it that way,' said Clisser firmly, by adjusting what interests our classes and dispensing with irrelevancies." Sallisha whirled on Clisser. What you decide is relevant?" Clisser pointed to the files along one wall of the library in which they were talking. I sent out questionnaires to every teacher on the rolls, and to holders, major and minor, asking for input. I got it, and this curriculum,' he lifted the thick volume, is the result. You've all received copies. And the Teaching Ballads will be part of the package you receive during the conference. Sallisha retired with poor grace, sulking as obviously as any intractable student would. He wondered if she saw the resemblance in attitude. However, Sallisha was a very good teacher, able to impart knowledge at the level needed, and was therefore supervisor of Southeastern Pern. But she had her little quirks - like everyone else in the world. Making the children memorize the Teaching Ballads would improve their retention of words: a skill that Clisser realized he had lost with his dependence on technology. But then, one of the reasons the Colonists had come to Pern with its limited resources was to revert to a society that was not so dependent on technology. He read accounts of persons who never left their home place, contacting others only by electronics, living as ere mites Not so much out of fear of the outside world as indolence. No-one could be indolent on Pern, Clisser told himself, and smiled. What a wasted life to remain in one place all one's days! Well, perhaps here on Pern, events - like Threadfall had forced them a little lower on the technological scale than the Settlers had anticipated, but they had adapted to Pern and were adapting it to their own use. And would meet the menace with a fully developed, renewable air defence force. He hoped Clisser sucked in his breath in a sort of reverse whistle. Everyone on the planet - with one notable exception - was girding their loins and securing their premises against that attack. Preparing was one thing, but enduring fifty years of an aerial attack was another. Briefly he reviewed the accounts published by the besieged colonists on Sirius III and Vega IV when the Nathi started bombarding the planets. Day after day, according to the history tapes, the worlds had been shelled with dirty missiles, rendering the surface uninhabitable. Whole generations had grown up on eolonial planets, living in deep shelters . Clisser smiled to himself - not much different from the cave holds in which the Pernese now lived. And indeed those accommodations had benefited by the Sirian and Vegan experiences - using the magma core taps to provide heat and solar panels for power. Humans had survived under far worse conditions than pertained on this planet. At least on Pern, you knew when and where Thread would fall and could mount effective de fences And yet, the scale of Threadfall was awesome and failure had appalling consequences. Failure usually did. Therefore, Clisser hoped that the music which had been composed as psychologically uplifting would have the desired effect: developing the morale and encouraging the effort. Briefly he wondered what would have happened on old Earth, during the National period, if there'd been a common extraterrestrial enemy to unite the diverse races. Jemmy and Sheledon had certainly written some stirring music, martial as well as hopeful. Some of the less ambitious tunes had a tendency to stay in the mind so that you woke up in the morning whistling one or hearing it in your head: the mark of a good melody to Clisser's way of thinking. And they had scored the music for various solo instruments or combinations of those readily available, so that even inexperienced players in the most isolated Hold or Hall would be able to accompany singers. Jemmy's riddling song was a delight and Clisser hadn't quite got all the answers yet, but it would prove useful during the hours of a Fall to distract folk about what was happening outside. Bethany's lament - the first song she had ever composed - was next on the programme and he settled back to listen to it. But his mind, working overtime in anxiety over the success of his new programme, refused to be caught up in the music. Among other things, WHAT was he going to do about Bitra Hold? The last teacher he'd sent there had left, voiding his contract with Chalkin - not that Clisser blamed Issony when he'd heard the way the man had been humiliated and threatened by unruly holder children - but children had to receive rudimentary education, You couldn't afford to let one whole province lapse into illiteracy. To be sure, children learn at different rates; he knew that, and learning should be made as interesting as possible, to lay the foundations for further study and for life itself, flr that matter. That was the purpose of education: to develop the skills required to solve problems. And to utilize the potential that existed in everyone - even a Bitran, he added sourly. Maybe he should reappoint Sallisha to that area? Then he chuckled. Not much chance of that. She had enough Seniority to refuse point blank. He made up his mind then, with the lovely phrases of Bethany's song soothing him, to bring up the problem of Chalkin, Lord Holder of Bitra, in the next Condave. Something had to be done about the man. During the final evening meal in which all three groups joined up on the Fort court for a dinner featuring three whole roasted steers, Clisser heard Chalkin's name come up and homed in on the group discussing the man. That's not all,' M'shall was saying, a deep frown on his usually amiable face, he's put up guards at the borders, and anyone who wants to leave can take only their clothes with them. Nothing else, not even the animals which they may have raised themselves. Clisser had not realized that the Benden Weyrleader had arrived, but his presence was certainly fortuitous. You're speaking of Chalkin?" he asked when the others cknowledged his presence and made room for him in their circle. M'shall gave a scornful laugh. Who else would turn folks out of their holds right now?" I've just heard from one of my travelling teachers, Issony, and he's quit and nothing would persuade him to go back to Bitra. But even they have to grow up literate." Ha!' M'shall's scoffing was echoed by the others. School hours keep Bitrans from other jobs which earn their Holder more marks. What did he do to Issony?" He'll give you chapter and verse if you ask him. In fact, it would do him good. I understand one of your riders rescued him." We do a lot of rescue work in Bitra,' M'shall said, not at all pleased by the necessity. But only non-Bitrans,' he added. Now, look,' and Bridgely seemed about to explode, I will not succour all his refugees. And I will not lift a hand to help him when his Hold is overrun by Thread. Ah,' and M'shall raised one finger in a sardonic gesture, but you see, he doesn't believe Thread's coming. Wouldn't we feel silly if he was right after all?" said Farley, one of the other minor Fort holders. Oops, wrong thing to say,' he added when coldly repressive stares rejected his witticism. Chalkin has always been contrary by nature,' Clisser said. But never such an outright fool." Well, he's exceeded even "damned fool",' Bridgely said. Is your teacher, Issony, here now? Well, then, bring him up to Fort. We're about to do something definitive about Chalkin." Right now?" Clisser couldn't help looking over at the roasting carcasses and sniffing at the succulent odours they were producing. I expect to eat, too,' said Bridgely, relenting. I just finished eating at Benden,' M'shall said, but his nose was twitching at the aromas. Ah, well, we could have a slice to allow you to enjoy your meal." Timed it just right, didn't you?" Farley said with a grin for their obvious interest in the roasting meats. Can some thing be done about an irresponsible Lord Holder?" Read your copy of the Charter, Farley,' Clisser advised. And how long have border guards - - . and Paulin paused, made indignant by such a measure been in place?" He'd assembled those concerned in his office at the Hold when they'd finished eating. Issony was on call if his testimony was required. As near as we can figure out, about seven days,' M'shall said. As you know, we've been canvassing all the holds to see who, if any, of Chalkin's people has been told about the imminence of Thread. Surely they'd have heard that much at Gathers Paulin began. Ha!" Bridgely put in. Very few of his folk hear where or when Gathers are being held, much less attend them." That isn't right,' said Paulin, shaking his head. Frankly, Paulin, I'd say his tithing of them is punitive. None of them ever seem to have a mark to spend even when they do bring work to sell at a Benden Gather. Not that they're encouraged to travel at all." Even to Gathers?" Paulin answered his own query. No, he wouldn't encourage them, would he?" Not if he's afraid they'll compare conditions in another Hold. Also, he doesn't like Bitran marks to go past his borders. And gets every one those high rollers have when they attend those friendly little games he runs,' M'shall said. I must confess I hadn't known how restrictive he is." Paulin spoke in a very thoughtful tone of voice. Well, how would you?" Bridgely replied, absolving him. You're west coast. We know because we see so few Bitrans at east coast gathers. Oh, his gamesters attend every one - Hmm, yes, they're ubiquitous, you might say,' Paulin murmured under his breath. So, if he's had to close the it would appear that some holders panicked when they learned Threadfall is indeed expected?" Indeed,' Bridgely agreed with a grim expression, and when delegation got the nerve to approach him, he had them beaten out of the Hold. I saw the lash marks so I know they aren't lying. They said they'd never seen him in such a temper. }je announced that the dragon riders are trying to get extra tithing on false pretences by spreading such rum ours He was also quite damning about the new mine being opened above uatha when good Bitrans could have worked the Steng Valley ones. The world is against Bitrans?" Paulin asked in a droll tone. You got it,' M'shall agreed. Chalkin also refused to accept delivery of HNO3 tanks . ;;g Kalvi. Wouldn't pay for them, you mean' M shall said. That's what Telgar riders told mine. -Either way, there'll be no ground crews. I think he's gone IM enough to warrant impeachment,' Paulin said with slow deliberation. As a Lord Holder, it's his duty to inform, and prepare his folk, for Threadfall. That's why the Holder system was adopted: to give people a strong leader to supply direction ?urig a Fall and to provide emergency assistance. By closing ;