All The Weyrs of Pern

17

By the end of the summer, there was still no sign of would-be abductors. Nurevin collected Brestolli from the brewer's cot in Bitra, limping bat still adamant about what he had overheard; a visit to Lord Sigomal by Benden Weyrleaders secured the release of the "contagious" harpers, and Master Sebell told the Bitran Lord Holder that, regretfully, he had no replacements suitable for a Hold of such stature. Several other Crafts withdrew their masters, leaving the Bitran Halls staffed by minor journeymen and apprentices of local origin.

A similar withdrawal occurred at Nerat but not at Keroon, for despite his increasingly vocal distrust of all improvements originating from the "Abomination," Lord Corman did not interfere with any of his Crafthalls or with the performance of their traditional duties to his Hold. He also made plain that he was distancing himself from Sigomal and Begamon.

Every Weyrwoman kept her queen on her mark, and every harper tracked down the faintest whisper of clandestine activities. Major Crafthalls discreetly doubled security measures. And dragonriders continued to drill outside the Yokohama, the Bahrain, and the Buenos Aires. Hamian and his crews worked overtime producing protective covering for riders, as well as a garment that would fit like a glove on dragon hind paws to shield flesh from the burn of ice-cold metal. Oldive, Sharra, Mirrim, Brekke, and the others labored under Aivas's close guidance to analyze and describe the peculiar organism that was Thread or, rather, that became Thread as it met its fiery frenzied doom in the skies of Pern.

Sharra tried to explain to Jaxom the task Aivas had set his investigators, as much to hear herself explain what she was doing as to make it clear to her mate.

"We had one marvelous day when Mirrim discovered the beads under the microscope. Aivas was excited, too, for he feels certain that the beads are the genetic information of the Thread organism." She grinned as she remembered that moment of triumph. "The microscope was at sub-high for maximum magnification, so we could all see these tiny, tiny beads strung along one of those long wires I told you Thread has. Not the springs, but the wires, which are coiled ever so tightly in a volume no bigger than the tip of my finger. Aivas says these ring beads use the material of the Thread ovoid to reproduce themselves." She made a face, indicating her ignorance of how that was done. "What he wants us to find now is a bacteriophage to infect the beads and then discover just the right one that will replicate itself fast before it uses up all the Thread material. We've done something of a similar nature, you know, when we located bacteria from wounds and learned how to disimprove their symbiotic bacteriophages so that they would kill their hosts. Our ancestors could certainly do marvelous things biologically to heal people. I hope we can begin to do as well as they did. This exercise could heal our planet."

"Then why didn't they do it?" Jaxom asked. "Why are we left with the job?"

Sharra grinned smugly. "Because we have dragons to replace fuel-less shuttles, fire-lizards who can nick Thread ovoids out of space, and Aivas to tell us exactly what to do. Even if I don't always understand what we're doing or why we're doing it."

"I thought you said it was to disimprove the Thread's symbionts. Though why that's necessary with what the dragonriders are to do, I don't know."

Sharra was silent a moment, considering that. "Aivas hates Thread, inasmuch as an inanimate machine is capable of hatred. He hates what it did to his captains and Admiral Benden. He hates what it's done to us. He wants to be sure it can never menace us again. He wants to kill it in the Oort Cloud. He calls the project 'Overkill.'"

Jaxom regarded her in puzzled astonishment. "He's more vindictive than F'lar!"

Sharra sighed dejectedly. "I m not sure that we can do what he wants. It's all so very complicated. And we're so limited in our understanding. He may be the machine, but I feel like one, doing this and that without knowing why."

She was more buoyant three days later when she told Jaxom that Aivas had found the appropriate parasitic vector.

"He says that similar life-forms were found in micro-gravity conditions in the asteroid belts. It's very like the one found in the ecology of the Pluto/Charon pair in the original Earth Solar system." Sharra frowned in perplexity. "Well, that's what he says. He has named the springs 'zebedees.' And zebedees are what we will now use to make our tailored parasite, like a virus, jump from one Thread ovoid to the next... once the parasite has disimproved itself as a symbiont and became really destructive! We've got to culture it now, though."

Jaxom managed a suitably appreciative grin for her enthusiasm. "Who are we to protest an Aivas pronouncement? What next?"

"Well, he's got all the fire-lizards searching the ovoid streams for the springs. Sometimes they're embedded right on the surface of an ovoid. We've had to start up nine more cold capsules to contain the things and infect them with the zebedee-makers."

"Zebedees, the Thread fleas!" Jaxom said, teasingly.

"Well, fleas are parasites, and I could wish we were able to disimprove some of them quickly! As it is, the time we have is nowhere near long enough for the work we have to do."

She had been disgusted to discover canine fleas on Jarrol, who was incurably attached to one of the kitchen-spit animals. "Fleas!" She shook her head. "That will be my priority project, as soon as we're finished with Aivas's: to disimprove fleas."

"Whenever that'll be," Jaxom added. There were so many Aivas endeavors, at various stages of completion, that he wondered if any of them would get finished on time now that the deadline drew nearer.

"Would you and Ruth have time to get me back to the Yokohama tomorrow before you fly Fall?" Sharra asked.

Jaxom groaned. "I thought you'd be here a few days."

Sharra looked properly repentant. "I've been over everything for the Gather with Brand and the other Stewards, and all's ready for our guests. But this is an especially critical time, Jaxom..." Her eyes pleaded for his understanding.

"You'll be exhausted. You won't enjoy the Gather..." he heard himself saying, and then he pulled her into his arms, savoring the feel of her body against his, and the spicy fragrance of her hair. Gathers were always special times for them.

"Please, Jaxom?" Her lips brushed his neck.

"I'm just griping, love. I could never keep you where you didn't wish to be."

"Won't it be wonderful, when this is all over, to be just us again?" she asked. "I want a daughter, too, you know."

That earnest wish elicited a response he was glad to make.

Threadfall was uneventful, though it was not one in which the spaceships' shields had carved tunnels of Threadfree air. Then Hamian sent a message that he had a new glove for Ruth to test on an EVA. So, after Ruth had tested it and found it comfortable as well as a good shield with an easy buckle attachment to hold it in place, Jaxom reported the success to Aivas to pass on to Hamian. For a change, Jaxom and Ruth were alone on the bridge: Ruth was spread across the big window as usual, devouring his favorite view.

"Aivas, just why are you so obsessed with this zebedee project?" Jaxom asked when he had delivered his message to Hamian. "Sharra says you call it Overkill. Why isn't blowing the Red Star out of orbit sufficient?"

"You are alone?" Aivas asked.

That was an unusual question, as Aivas usually unerringly sensed additional presences.

"Yes, I'm alone. Are you going to come clean?" Jaxom asked, half joking.

"This is as good a time as any," Aivas replied, startling the young Holder.

"That doesn't sound good."

"On the contrary, it is all to the good to know what has been expected of you since this facility learned of Ruth's unusual abilities."

"His knowing when and where he is?" Jaxom asked slyly.

"Precisely. An explanation is needed."

"They usually are, with you!"

"Flippancy has always covered apprehension. Candor is required. There are three engines that must be exploded to push the Red Star out of an of hazardous to Pern. Two of those explosions have already taken place."

"What?" Jaxom sat upright in the comfortable chair and stared at the screen in front of him.

"As you are aware, records from every Weyr, Hall, and Hold were presented and analyzed. Two small entries illuminate an anomaly.

"Based on the position of the Red Star when Mankind first landed on Pern, that planet is not now in the orbit it should be tracking at this point in time. Repeated calculations were made during the First Fall by captains Keroon and Tillek. Eccentric it might be, but its current position differs from an extrapolation of those original calculations. Its path shows that it has suffered a perturbation of nine-point-three degrees off its original elliptical orbit. That is not consistent with the extrapolated position. Therefore, something has already altered its path. Substantiation occurs in two minor references found in Istan and Keroonian records in the Fourth and Eighth Passes, which were each prior to a long Interval. During each Pass, bright flashes were observed when the Red Star was at apogee in reference to Pern. Bright enough to be remembered and noted."

Stunned, Jaxom blinked, as if closing and opening his eyes would help him focus his thoughts on what Aivas was saying. "Those two craters?"

"Your perception is acute."

"My fear is also, Aivas!"

"Man is wise to fear: it sharpens the sense of self preservation."

"But what I felt when I saw the first crater was not fear. It was-it had to be-it was as if I knew it had to be there! I discounted such a ridiculous notion at the time. And you, Aivas, would not have me believe that I have been there before?"

"The time paradox has bewildered many. Your presentiment of involvement with the crater is unusual, but similar incidents are reported in the annals of psychic phenomena."

"Are they?" Jaxom asked facetiously. "I'm not at all sure I appreciate the position you've put me in-that is, if I understand you correctly."

"How do you understand what has been said?"

"That somehow I, on Ruth, with enough dragonriders to perform the task, took an engine back in time and deposited it in that Rift? Where it blew up to form the crater I find on my initial trip to the Red Star some eighteen hundred Turns in the later?"

"You have done it twice. The second time was six hundred Turns ago. It is the only explanation. Furthermore, you know that you've done it."

"I don't want to do it," Jaxom protested, thinking how far back he would have to ask Ruth to take him and the others. Yet Aivas had been accurate in so many other unlikely things. "What if something went wrong?"

"True to the time paradox, if something had, you wouldn't be here, and there would be some thirty or forty dragons missing from this time."

"No, that's wrong," Jaxom said, struggling to understand. "We wouldn't have gone yet. So wed still be here. We won't be here if we fail when we try it. No, no!" He waved one hand irritably at his confusion.

"You have gone. You have been successful, and each of those previous explosions has caused Long Intervals-which are inexplicable by any other rationale-thus setting up the planet for the final orbital dislocation."

"Now wait a minute," Jaxom said, waggling his finger at the screen in an aggravated fashion. "We've done a lot of queer things to propitiate you, Aivas, and we've done them because you've proved to be right..."

"This facility is correct in its findings and conclusions in this matter, as well, Lord Jaxom."

"Don't try that tact on me, friend. It doesn't work! The dragonriders are not going to go along with this. Timing it has always been extremely tricky. You know that Lessa nearly died going back four hundred Turns. You want us to go back eighteen hundred?"

"You will be carrying your own oxygen supplies, so you will not suffer from asphyxia as she did. You are aware of the sensory deprivation syndrome and will not be disturbed by the disorientation..."

Jaxom kept shaking his head. "You can't ask bronzes to do that, even if they are able to. I don't think F'lar times it. In fact, the only one I do know who has is Lessa."

"And your Ruth. Furthermore, you have been proud of the fact that the white dragon always knows where and when he is going."

"You have said that Ruth always knows where and when he is going."

"I have, but-"

"If Ruth knows where and when he is going-and specific guides are available-he can supply the necessary visual coordinates."

"But I know that the other riders won't stand for this..."

"They will not know!"

Jaxom stared straight at the screen for another long moment.

"How;" he asked at last in a very patient, saccharine tone, 'will they not know'?"

"Because you will not tell them. And since you now have been to the Red Star on several occasions, and since the distance in terms of travel between will not be appreciably longer than what they would expect, they will not know that they have been transported back in time and to the Red Star in the position required by the equations that cover the two disparate explosions."

Jaxom mulled that over and, inhaling deeply, realized that in his state of shock he had not been breathing regularly.

I think we can do it, Ruth remarked with more confidence than Jaxom was feeling at that moment.

Jaxom turned toward his beloved friend. "You may think we can, but I'm going to be bloody sure we can. Now, Aivas, let's go through this again... The other riders are not to know the time of our destination. But there are to be three teams of us, taking the three engines..."

"Hamian will not have sufficient space suits for the three hundred beasts required to shift all three engines at the same time. You will lead two of the three groups. F'lar will, as planned, head the third. He will be the only one depositing an engine in this time. As you know," Aivas went on, overriding Jaxom's protest, "the locations chosen are not in sight of each other. Since F'lar will think that you are at one end of the Rift, N'ton at the other, he will not know what you are doing."

"The timing's wrong, Aivas. I cannot be in two places at once. Nor doing that kind of timing without a respite. Ruth doesn't have auxiliary oxygen."

"You missed the point about insufficient space suits. Your team will have to get out of their suits and turn them over to the members of the second unit. That should allow Ruth sufficient time to regain energy. You will, of course, be certain that he eats well beforehand and can feed immediately afterward to restore himself."

I could do it the way Aivas suggests, Ruth said amiably.

"I haven't said I'll risk us!" Jaxom roared, bringing both fists down on the console with such force that he hurt his hands. Rubbing them, he grumbled to himself.

"You already have, or there would not be two craters on the Rift, and there would not have been records of bright flashes."

"You're inveigling me, Aivas. And I'm not going to let you."

"You already have, Lord Jaxom. You are the only one who can, could, would, has. Think this proposal over carefully and you will see that the project is not only within the capabilities of yourself and Ruth, but feasible. And essential! Three explosions at this point in time will not have the desired effect on the future path of the Red Star."

Jaxom sighed deeply, almost as if he already felt it needful to fill his lungs for a jump timed eighteen hundred Turns away. His mind refused to settle into a logical examination of the affair.

"Since this is a confessional moment, tell me why you are so obsessed with this project you've involved Sharra in? Especially," he added with an ironic laugh, "if you say you know I've already succeeded even before I've begun."

"You do succeed, and there is an easy way to prove it," Aivas said, his tone not quite ingratiating but as close to that as Jaxom had ever heard.

"No, first explain to me about these zebedee things."

"It is extrapolated by the closer examination of the Thread ovoids that there is life, not as you know it, and not even as we see it brought here by the Red Star, but a whole ecology of life forms throughout the Oort Cloud. Some of them are probably quite intelligent, judging by the complexity of their nervous systems; but when they arrive here, they have lost most of their liquid helium and so can be termed only 'rude mechanicals.' It is these degenerate, warmth-tolerating forms that make it to the surface of Pern; they don't live long enough to replicate themselves there, of course, or on the Red Planet. It is only these 'mechanicals' that can reproduce without helium in Pern's orbit. But if these mechanicals could be contaminated, infected with our disimproved parasite, they would carry it with them to destroy all similar life-forms in the Oort Cloud itself, probably including the more intelligent ones, too. Then, no matter what happens, Pern will forever be freed of this menace. That is why there were Long Intervals: The disimproved zebedees that you will establish-have established long ago-on the surface of the Red Planet, twice in the past and once in the future will infect the Cloud when the Red Star cuts through it twice in every orbit."

"I'm also to be a disease carrier?" Jaxom was not sure which he felt more keenly: indignation, fury, or incredulity at the audacity of Aivas's scheme.

"You will seed the Red Star three times. That is why it is so important to breed up the disimproved zebedees. A triple thrust in two different areas."

"But if I'm to blow the planet out of orbit..."

"The perturbation will be slight, and you can seed the zebedees at a sufficient distance from the Rift to insure their safety. There will be plenty of host ovoids on the planet's surface as well as in orbit around it."

"We saw them on the surface, not in orbit."

"Were you looking for them?"

"Not in space. Now, tell me how you can prove to me that all these incredible designs of yours will work-have worked!"

"It is very simple. Access the file that gives you a graph of the Red Star's current orbit."

Jaxom had no trouble doing that. The all-too-familiar diagram filled the screen.

"Hold that on the monitor," Aivas instructed.

Jaxom pressed out that command.

"Now, if you will mount Ruth, you can go forward in time fifty years-Turns-using the digital timepiece as your reference."

"No one goes forward in time, that's the most dangerous..."

"Only if alterations will have taken place," Aivas replied. "There will be no changes on the bridge of Yokohama. That will be your responsibility. Today you will go forward in time, call up the orbit. Print it out. Then, with that hard copy, return here after a safe interval and compare the two graphs. The doors have been locked. No one is likely to come to this bridge at this moment, or until you have returned."

Every ounce of common sense Jaxom possessed shouted resistance to a timing forward. And yet... to have done so would be a feat no one else could possibly manage successfully. For he had Ruth.

"Did you hear what Aivas said, Ruth?"

I did. Given his assurances, and I know that he would not risk you, Jaxom

"Or you," Jaxom put in.

I would like to see what Pern looks like in the future. I would like to know that the future is going to be a good one.

And so would I, Jaxom thought.

Then, before he could come up with too many arguments against this rash, foolhardy, reckless endeavor, he signaled for Ruth to float over to him.

"You will, of course," Aivas said drolly, "be very sure to keep oxygen tanks full on the bridge for fifty Turns to come."

Jaxom gave a grim smile. "I'm not going to take any chances, Aivas. I'll just get into my suit." He was becoming quite adept at inserting himself into the space gear. He mounted Ruth and buckled on the riding straps, just to be very sure, in case they emerged in nothingness. He also knew that Ruth would have no trouble anywhere-or anywhen-finding his way back to Ruatha Hold.

He read the date exposed on the digital and added fifty to the year displayed: 2579. With that legend firmly in his mind, he told Ruth to transfer to that time.

I know when I'm going, Ruth said cheerfully, and they were abruptly between.

Jaxom counted the breaths he was taking and was rather pleased that they were slow and steady. At fifteen, they were back on the bridge-which had not, apparently, altered.

The view hasn't changed, Ruth said disconsolately.

"No, it hasn't," Jaxom said, surprised to see the diagram still up on the screen. The digital clock, however, definitely registered fifty full Turns past his last view of it. He unhooked his straps and floated down from Ruth's back to the screen.

"I suppose I could have put this back up in preparation for my coming," he told himself. "I'll remember. I hope. Is there sir up here, Ruth?"

Yes, but it's not very fresh.

Jaxom pulled off his gloves and put them down on the console. He didn't bother to unsuit, since he had no intention of remaining longer than this errand required. He tapped out the appropriate code and saw the cursor outline a second orbit, deviating by several degrees from the earlier one and with the return path intersecting the orbit of the fifth planet and spiraling in! With trembling fingers, he pressed the print command and a sheet obediently emerged-a sheet that felt subtly different from the paper he had become accustomed to. Much whiter, softer! Bendarek had really improved the quality of paper over the intervening Turns. Then he compared its diagram to the one on the screen.

"Shards! Aivas, the path of the Red Star has shifted. Aivas?" An iciness flowed across Jaxom's midsections. "Aivas?"

How can he hear you fifty Turns into the future, Jaxom? Ruth said in some amusement.

"Oh, right... I suppose. Except he'd know when we were going..." Jaxom was still uneasy about Aivas's silence. "I guess I have got so that I rely on him too much. But he was right. So we're stuck with this new madness of his, aren't we, Ruth?"

I do not think it is madness to be certain we never have Thread again.

"We're not out of this Pass yet, even if it is possibly the last one we'll have," Jaxom said, pushing himself off the deck to grab at Ruth's neck and swing his leg into the saddle. "The old bridge hasn't changed... and yet, it feels awful still and unused!"

I thought the view would have changed, Ruth said, clearly disappointed.

Jaxom thought vividly of the digital in his correct present, added thirty seconds to prevent an overlap, and Ruth took them between. Exactly fifteen breaths later he was looking straight at the digital advanced the thirty seconds. He did, however, feel very tired, and as he looked at Ruth's neck, he noticed a definite tinge of gray exhaustion in the usually lustrous hide.

"And?" Aivas queried him.

"I must have put the graph up, because it was there when I arrived."

"And?"

Jaxom undid his helmet, determined to spin the scene out for all it was worth. "Well, I must have remembered to keep the oxygen tanks topped up, for there was some, even if Ruth said it wasn't fresh-Shards!" He looked down at his bare hands. "I left my gloves there."

"Then. You will have left your gloves then." Aivas could play the same game.

Jaxom grinned. "I think I'll just wait and retrieve them... later. Here's what came up in the future. Is the variation sufficient for you, lord and master?" He placed the graph from fifty Turns in the future in front of the sensor so that Aivas could see and compare.

"Yes," Aivas said, unperturbed, "that will be sufficient. The explosions have accomplished exactly the desired dislocation. Jaxom, your vital signs show a depletion. You must eat carbohydrates."

"Ruth's a bit gray, too. He needs to eat more than I do."

You should have told me wed be doing this today, Jaxom. We have flown Fall, and I haven't eaten since those wherries last week.

"As soon as you're feeling able, dear heart, you shall have as many fat bucks and wherries as you can stuff down your maw."

Then let us go now. I really feel very hungry.

"Jaxom?" Aivas said as the white rider started peeling off his space suit.

"Yes?"

"Will you comply?"

"With your mad scheme? It appears I must because I have. Haven't I?"

Ruatha Hold was gay with banners in the bright autumnal air, and folk had been flowing down all the roads to the immense camping grounds near the racing course. One of the first tasks Jaxom had undertaken upon being confirmed as Lord Holder had been to revive Ruatha's breeding of runners. The animals he had produced since had won significant races from time to time at other Gathers, and he hoped that today, racing on home ground, they would perform even better.

He and Ruth had transferred from the Yokohama immediately to an upland meadow where the white dragon had replenished his energies on three bucks and two does. He had then glided home, emitting an occasional satisfied burp so that Jaxom could eat a more substantial meal than the handfuls of berries he had found in the bushes surrounding the field. Jaxom had seen his dragon comfortably curled up on the weyr couch, given orders to the first Steward he saw that he was not to be disturbed even if Thread fell out of phase, and grabbed some bread and cheese from the kitchen, which he consumed on his way to his quarters. There, somewhat sated, he removed his boots and riding belt and crawled under the sleeping furs to sleep.

Sometime during that exhausted rest, Sharra must have joined him, for when he awoke just as the sky was lightening, she was there, nestled against him. What had roused him were unmistakable greetings of Gatherers, arriving after an overnight journey. His nose told him that the spits were already turning over open flames in the roasting pits, and his stomach told him that he needed to fill it. He must have slept an entire day.

"Mmmm, Jax?" Sharra murmured, sleepily reaching for him.

"Yes, love, who else were you expecting?" He leaned over and kissed her. "You let me sleep?"

"Hmmm. Ruth said you were very tired. Meer wouldn't let anyone in the room but me."

He angled himself up to a sitting position, scrubbing at his tousled hair, running his tongue around his teeth, and hoping that his breath wasn't too rank. Meer appeared, Talla right behind him, chirping a gentle inquiry.

"We're up, we're up!" Jaxom assured them although Sharra hauled her pillow more firmly under her head, her eyes determinedly shut.

The two fire-lizards disappeared, and very shortly there was a timid scratch at the door of the bedroom.

"Come!" He could smell the aroma of klah as soon as the door opened. A drudge who looked freshly scrubbed and attired entered with a well-stocked tray.

Once he had had some klah and had cajoled Sharra into waking up enough to join him, he revived sufficiently to bathe and dress in new Gather finery.

"Whatever were you doing that exhausted you and Ruth so much?" Sharra asked as she let him fasten her new Gather gown, a splendid affair in the golds and rusts that so suited her.

"Well, there was Fall, and then Ruth and I had to test those new gloves Hamian's produced and-" He waved his hand airily. "I guess things just mounted up. Did you get enough rest?" he asked solicitously, dropping a kiss on her bare neck before he fastened the topaz necklace which had been his nameday present to her.

"Well..." she began in the tone he knew was to make him feel guilty, but then she turned in his arms, her face alight with love and mischief. "I did the honors of the Hold for our guests from Cove Hold, and Lord Groghe and those from Fort Hold and"-she grinned up at him-"they said I'd better get an early night and they'd make themselves comfortable. Master Robinton was well on the way through the first wineskin, but he was so pleased that you had some of the 'sixteen' for him."

A loud halloo from the dawn-lit road brought them to the window, and they saw a huge contingent of riders, bearing Tillek's banners.

"Come, we must greet Ranrel," Sharra said, grabbing him by the hand. "And it's high time the Lord of Ruatha Hold showed himself to his diligent Stewards and staff."

The Gather attracted hordes from every Hold, Hall, and Weyr. This was one of those few days when there was no Fall to be met, and it would be one of the last of the Northern Gathers before winter weather made roads impassable. Jaxom and Sharra, accompanied by Jarrol and Shawan, now a sturdy toddler, walked the long line of booths until Shawan had to be carried and Jarrol revived by one of the first bubbly pies out of the oven. There was an exuberance and buoyancy to the day that affected everyone and was mirrored in the gay new clothing and high spirits. Harpers strolled up and down the Gather line, playing and singing; children congregated in knots to play their favorite games; adults settled in their own groupings or at tables around the huge dancing square where brewers and wine sellers were doing a brisk business.

Jaxom and Sharra hosted a midday meal in the Hold at which those Lord Holders, Weyrleaders, and Craftmasters gracing the day were entertained. Robinton, Menolly, and Sebell gave a special performance of the latest ballads and airs with full orchestral accompaniment, conducted by Master Domick. It was a leisurely meal, and Jaxom enjoyed it, though he noted that Lords Sigomal, Begamon, and Corman were conspicuous by their absence-which caused him to recall the abduction plot.

The racing went very well, with one Ruathan sprinter winning its first race and their other runners taking placings in almost every one of the eight starts. Among the beasts for sale, Jaxom and Sharra found a well-trained little runner to start Jarrol riding, for they had nothing in the beasthold suitable for a beginner. Saddlery then had to be arranged with the Tanner Hall. In between these chores, Jaxom and Sharra circulated among their guests, speaking to all the small holders that looked to Ruatha.

About midafternoon, young Pell brought his intended to meet his lord and lady, and Sharra was warm in her responses to the darkly pretty girl, daughter of a hill holder from Fort. There was nothing in Pell's manner to suggest that he was not totally engrossed in his future as a joiner, especially after his lady showed Jaxom and Sharra the beautiful little coffer Pell had made her.

Ruth, his white hide radiant after a restoring sleeps. had emerged sometime in the morning and was on the fireheights, sunning himself with the other dragons. Hundreds of fairs swarmed about the Hold, their cheerful voices a descant to whatever music the harpers were making.

Whether it was the long sleep or the stimulation of the day, or both, Jaxom found himself in fine fettle for the Gather exertions. He and Sharra led several of the energetic dance figures, and then he allowed Sharra to be swirled away by N'ton, then F'lar, while he partnered Lessa. During one of the breaks, he sat at the harpers' table with Robinton, D'ram, and Lytol and made certain that the Masterharper had sufficient wine. A dark-haired young drudge whom Jaxom did not recognize-so many were hired temporarily to assist during a Gather-kept the Harper supplied with food, even bringing some tidbits for Zair.

It was no wonder then that Robinton would need a short nap, and because Jaxom was busy doing his duty dances with Lady Holders, he only noticed as he danced past that Robinton was alone at his table, asleep, Zair curled up beside him.

It was Piemur who discovered that it was not Robinton asleep at the table, but a man dressed in clothing similar to Robinton's Gather suit-a dead man. And it was Piemur who realized that Zair was barely breathing, his color dangerously dull and his weak breath tainted with a sickly odor. Piemur had the good sense not to alarm anyone, sending Farli to summon Jaxom and Sharra, then D'ram, Lytol, and the Benden Weyrleaders.

"This man's been dead a long time," Sharra said, putting her hand on a cold cheek and testing the muscular resistance. She shuddered. "This is too macabre!"

"Robinton's ill?" Lessa asked in a hoarse whisper as she and F'lar arrived. "That isn't Robinton!" First relief and then fury distorted her features. "They did abduct him! Right out of a Gather."

She, Jaxom, F'lar, and D'ram alerted their dragons.

"Don't just jump about in panic," Lytol said, even as the big dragons landed quietly in the shadows beyond the dancing square. "Let us decide what to do and who is to search where. There're enough dragons here to cover every possibility. Why did it have to be here, where that device of Aivas's won't reach to Landing?"

Sharra was bending over the limp Zair. "He'd find Robinton no matter where he is. Union, Zair."

"D'you need your medical kit?" Jaxom asked.

"I've already sent for it." But her face as she turned to Jaxom was anxious. "Lessa, is your healer here? She knows more about dragon and fire-lizard care than I do. Zair's been poisoned, but I don't know what was used."

Jaxom picked up a half-eaten piece of meat from the table, sniffed cautiously at it, and promptly sneezed vociferously. Sharra took it from him and smelled more daintily.

"Fellis, all right," she announced, "but mixed with something else to disguise taste and smell. Poor Zair. He doesn't look good. How wicked!"

F'lar picked up the wine goblet Robinton had been using and carefully sipped. He spat it out immediately. "Fellis in the wine, too. I should have known Robinton wouldn't pass out from mere wine." The Weyrleader was disgusted with himself.

Jaxom groaned. "I saw him sleeping, and I ought to have known he never sleeps at a Gather..."

"Many's the night he's outlasted everyone else at a Gather," Lessa said. "How much of a head start do these miserable fiends have? Which way would they go?"

Jaxom snapped his fingers. "There are marshals on every road. They would have seen who left and in which direction."

"We'll each take a different road," F'lar said, gesturing for all the riders to mount their beasts and check with the marshals. "You stay here as if there was nothing amiss," he told Lytol, Piemur, and Sharra.

But each dragonrider returned shortly. No one, the marshals had assured them, had been seen leaving the Gather, no riders or wagons on any road.

Tell the fire-lizards to search, Ruth said to Jaxom.

"Ruth says to tell all the fire-lizards to hunt for Robinton," Jaxom said aloud.

"That's exactly what Ramoth just said," Lessa said. The noise of sudden winged exodus could be heard above the rollicking dance tune that was encouraging the dancers to outdo themselves.

"If we announce this to the Gather," Lytol suggested, "we'd have sufficient people to search the entire Hold from border to border."

"No," Jaxom said. "There'd be a panic! You know how well loved Robinton is. It can't be more than an hour, at the most. That's not enough time to get to the coast..."

"Up into the hills?" Lytol suggested. "There are so many caves up there wed never be able to search them all."

"The fire-lizards can-and will," Piemur said.

"There are only so many tracks to the hills," Jaxom said. "Ruth and I will start the search. Lytol..." And then Jaxom hesitated.

Lytol clutched his arm. "D'ram and Tiroth will take me. I know Ruatha as well as you do, lad."

"So do I," Lessa said roughly.

"I'll go northeast to the Nabol Pass," F'lar said.

"We'll need some Fort Riders," Lessa said.

"And some to follow the river to the sea," Lytol added.

"We'll stay here for the fire-lizards," Piemur said, nodding to Sharra. There were tears running down his cheeks. "Just find him!" Then abruptly he sat down, where the shadow of his body fell across the dead man dressed in harper blue.

Dawn was breaking by the time the dragonriders, augmented by Fort Weyr riders, admitted defeat and returned to Ruatha. A few folk were awake, preparing to return home, but most of the Gather area was populated by those sleeping off the night's excesses.

"Not a single wagon is leaving here without being searched," Sharra told Jaxom when he got back. "That was Piemur's notion."

"And a good one," Jaxom said, gratefully taking the cup of klah she handed him. "For there was nothing moving on the tracks, and I went as far as the Ice Lake, and Ruth was particularly vigilant over the wooded areas."

He saw then that someone had thrown a blanket across the dead man's shoulders. Piemur and Jancis sat nearby as if guarding their master's sleep.

"We thought it wiser to pretend it's Master Robinton," Sharra murmured. "Sebell and Menolly know, of course, and her ten fire-lizards have been out searching all night. Sebell's gone back to the Harper Hall to alert everyone. You heard the drums?"

"You can't miss them." She grimaced. "Asgenar and Larad know harper codes, and they were talking of mounting an attack on Bitra."

"They'd never have been fool enough to imprison the Harper there. Sigomal's not stupid. He'd know it would be the first place we'd look."

"That's what Lytol told them, but they feel badly because they heard of the abduction first. Larad says that he ought to have confronted Sigomal immediately and demanded that he forget such a heinous scheme."

"That would have done no good," Jaxom said wearily.

"And it was such a lovely Gather..." Sharra said, turning into his shoulder and weeping softly.

Jaxom put his arms about her, smoothing her rumpled hair back from her forehead and wanting very much to give way to the tears that burned his eyes.

"Zair?" he asked, suddenly remembering the little creature.

"Oh! Yes." Sharra pulled herself from his arms, mopping her eyes and sniffing. "He'll recover, Campila says. She purged him and," she added managing a little smile, "he looked so embarrassed. I've never seen that particular shade in fire-lizard eyes before."

"When will he be able to help us find Master Robinton?"

Sharra bit her lower lip. "He's terribly weak and awfully confused. I didn't ask her that, because if they've drugged Master Robinton and he's comatose, not even Zair could find him."

Suddenly the air was full of agitated fire-lizards, shrieking and bugling.

They've found him! Ruth cried. In three mighty hops, he landed at Jaxom's side.

Jaxom was astride the white dragon before he realized his own intention and then Ruth was aloft with such speed that his rider was nearly unseated. Other dragons were airborne as quickly. Like an arrow composed of many bodies-all flying so closely together that many must have been winglocked-the fire-lizards pointed the southeastern direction.

Can you understand who or where from them? Jaxom asked Ruth.

It is not far, and they picture a wagon. You can see the tracks plainly.

And then Jaxom saw the marks, visible over the headlands of fields recently plowed under. The abductors had been clever, taking to the fields instead of the roads, and the cart had to be a small one, or they could not have maneuvered over muddy fields and the rocky terrain beyond the cultivated lands. The dragons had not been airborne long when they saw the first of the foundered runners, splay-legged and gasping, its feet bound in thick rags to muffle its passage. Ten minutes onward, another exhausted beast lay on the ground, breathing its last, its sides covered with bloody welts that indicated how it had been driven.

Tell the others, Ruth, that they must be heading to the sea. Have some riders go on ahead.

They go, Ruth replied, and Jaxom saw spaces opening up all around him as dragons went between.

But dragon wings were quicker than the fleetest of runners, even with a head start of some six hours, and at last Jaxom saw the cart bouncing its way down the final slope to the sea and the small ship waiting for this clandestine cargo. Dragons had encircled the ship, and from his vantage point, Jaxom could see men diving from it, vainly attempting to evade capture.

Then Ruth and the Benden contingent swooped down to halt the cart.

There was a brief attempt at innocence by the three men: two on the driving seat, and one inside, lying on a thick mattress and pretending to be ill.

The fire-lizards, however, were far more interested in the unusual dropped load bed, swarming over it, crooning encouragement, bugling triumph. The "sick" man was unceremoniously dumped out of the cart, the mattress rolled out of the way, and the boards of the false bottom pulled free. And there they discovered the Masterharper, looking ashen and almost wizened.

Carefully they lifted him out, rearranging the mattress for his comfort.

"He may just need air," F'lar said, "stuffed in that pit and jostled like a package..."

He glared at the three who were struggling in the rough grip of angry riders. Overhead, fire-lizards made as if to bombard them, claws and beaks held in attack readiness.

"We need Sharra," Lessa told Jaxom urgently. "Unless Oldive is still at the Gather..."

Jaxom vaulted to Ruth's back.

"Don't meet yourself coming, Jaxom!" Lessa shrieked at him.

Despite his anxiety and fury, Jaxom recognized the sense of that warning; still, he didn't waste any time returning with Sharra and her medical case.

"I think they gave him too much," she said, her face paler than the Harper's. "We must get him back to Ruatha where I can treat him properly."

The limp figure was handed up to Jaxom astride Ruth, with Sharra to help hold the Harper between them. When they arrived back at Ruatha, N'ton was already in the courtyard with Oldive, so Jaxom knew that the Fort Weyrleader had risked timing his errand.

"Hold on, Sharra," Jaxom told her. "Ruth's going to take us straight to our room."

"Will he fit-" Sharra broke off as they reappeared in the large living room; Ruth quickly folded his wings and scrunched down, and managed to knock over only a few pieces of furniture.

By the time N'ton and Oldive arrived, Jaxom and Sharra had the Harper in their bed, his clothing removed. Sharra held the Harper's head, and Master Oldive quickly emptied a vial down his throat. Then he examined Robinton's eyes and listened to his heart.

"We must get him warm," the Masterhealer said, but Sharra was already tucking furs about the lax body. "His body has had a dreadful shock. Who did this?"

"We'll find out who's behind all this. The abductors were nearly to the beach," Jaxom said. "A ship was waiting to take him who knows where."

"We'll have the answer to that, too," N'ton said in a grating tone. "Master Robinton will recover, won't he, Oldive?"

"He must," Sharra said fervently, kneeling beside the bed. "He must!"