All The Weyrs of Pern

8

Keep a grip on me, will you, Ruth? Jaxom said as he carefully swung his right leg over the white dragon's neck ridge. Maneuvering in free-fall had been easier the previous day, when he and Piemur had had each other to hold on to. He had gotten the hang of slow, controlled movements, then, but today the bulky suit impeded him, and he felt ungainly. The heavy magneticsoled boots made his feet especially clumsy. He clutched at Ruth's neck suddenly as he felt his body moving in a direction other than down. Ruth caught him by the ankle, and suddenly he was right side up, the boots anchoring him safely to the deck.

Knowing that his fellow students were observing him made him hope devoutly that he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt. Sharra had told him repeatedly that he had not looked at all foolish coping with weightlessness the day before. He should relax in satisfaction that both he and Piemur had handled themselves most creditably. She only wished that she could somehow have seen the view of Pern which had so transfixed them.

"I've never seen that particular look on Piemur's face before. Jancis was impressed."

"So how did I look?"

"Dumbstruck, just like Piemur," she replied, giving him a mischievous grin. "About the same way you looked when you saw Jarrol for the first time."

At least today, Jaxom knew he had some control over his movements-as long as he kept his feet on the deck. He took the first step forward, wrenching the heavy boot's grip off the floor and stamping it down in front of him. Ruth had landed in the same spot as before, right by the lift door. Jaxom had only to duck under the dragon's neck to reach the control panel, which Aivas had assured him was in working order.

I'll move out of your way, Ruth said obligingly. Picking up his hind legs, he flipped over and over backward, coasting toward the window. It's better than the view from the Star Stones on Benden or the fireheights at Ruatha. By the time Jaxom had pressed one thick-gloved finger on the pressure panel, Ruth had his nose against the plasglas and was staring out into space.

Jaxom still could not dispel the sense of being an intruder which he had felt keenly the day before, walking where his ancestors had, manipulating switches, toggles, and keyboards just as they had once done. He had told himself that that was partly because of the gruesome errand he and Piemur had been on, retrieving Sallah Telgar. He had hoped the feeling would have altered now that he was here on another errand, but it had not.

Though he and Piemur had, miraculously, been able to log into their respective consoles and complete their tasks, Aivas had not been able to discover why the cargo-bay doors remained open. Today, after a brisk tutorial session from Aivas, Jaxom's assignment was to descend to the Cargo level and attempt to use the control console or the manual override there.

"It is to be hoped that one of those two systems is operational," Aivas said.

"Why?"

"Otherwise, you would have to venture outside the ship to discover what was keeping the doors from closing."

"Oh!" Jaxom had seen enough footage of Aivas's training tapes to wonder if he would have the nerve to space walk.

The lift opened and he stepped in. The door shut. Once again consulting the diagram in his hand-though he had memorized it-he punched the button marked CB for cargo bay before he noticed how many levels the lift served. Although Aivas had assured him that the solar panels of the Yokohama contained sufficient power to operate the bridge lift, he had a nervous moment before the long-unused mechanism rumbled into action.

"The lift is operational," Jaxom told Aivas in what he hoped was a casual tone. "I'm descending." He had also been instructed to keep up a running commentary. Jaxom was not by nature garrulous; it seemed inane to keep reporting simple actions, even if they were not taking place under normal conditions. Aivas had merely repeated that this was normal procedure for a single operative in what was to be considered a hostile environment.

"Proceed," Aivas said.

The descent seemed to take both a long time and no time at all. A warning note sounded, and a red sign-DANGER: VACUUM!-appeared on the door of the lift.

"What do I do now, Aivas?"

"Press the PUMP DOWN button on the right of the sign and wait for the danger lights to go out."

Jaxom did as he was instructed. He noticed that his suit puffed out and seemed slightly less wieldy. He was just growing accustomed to that alteration when there was a melodious ding and the door slid silently aside-and Jaxom looked out at a vast blackness that framed an even blacker area that was punctuated by star lights. There was no reassuring sight of sunlit Pern below him. He didn't move a muscle.

Don't be nervous. I'd come after you if you fell out, Ruth said encouragingly.

"I've reached the cargo bay," Jaxom said belatedly. "There's insufficient light." And that, Jaxom said to himself, must be the single most stupid understatement he had ever made!

"Feel to the left of the door. There will be a panel." Aivas's voice in Jaxom's ear was steady and reassuring, and he let out his breath, only just realizing that he had been holding it in. "Wave your hand across the panel, and emergency lights will come on."

We hope, Jaxom said to himself. Moving with extreme care, he obeyed and was unutterably relieved to see a line of lights come up all around the immense cargo bay. The effect did heighten the blackness of space, but he felt better with the partial illumination. "Yes, I now have light." It's bigger even than Fort's Hatching Ground, he told Ruth, looking about in awe.

"There is a handrail all around the inside wall of the cargo bay," Aivas went on conversationally. "To your left you will see a bank of lights, and the console should be visible under them."

"It is."

"It will be faster to go hand over hand, Jaxom," Aivas went on, "and quite safe. Otherwise you would exhaust yourself needlessly."

Jaxom wondered if Aivas knew just how scared he was. But how could he? So Jaxom took a deep breath and, lifting his left foot, reached out and caught hold of the handrail. It was round and firm in his grip and amazingly reassuring for a mere thin rail of metal. "I've got it. I'm proceeding as directed."

Holding very tightly with both hands, he kicked off his right foot, balanced the reaction against the solid rail, and began to move hand over hand, hauling his weightless body after him.

"How did my ancestors manage to load ships working like this?" he asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Your ancestors worked in half gravity in this area during loading, but the rest of the ship was on normal gravity."

"They could do that? Amazing," Jaxom replied dutifully. He was nearly halfway to the console. The curve of the bay now hid the unnerving sight of star-studded space. He wanted to increase his pace but sternly held himself to a rhythm that would prevent sudden, unexpected reactions. He could feel the sweat on his forehead, and then the little suction fan in his helmet turned on and the moisture was evacuated. That phenomenon occupied his mind until he was actually at the lighted console.

He activated it, and a range of red and orange lights flickered into being. Jaxom experienced a slight shock and then began reading the dials. Some of the red lights were perfectly in order, indicating, as they were meant to, that the cargo-bay doors were open. He sighed in relief and applied his lessons to deciphering the rest. When he was sure of what sequence to use, he entered the appropriate code. The orange light began to flicker. The legend above it said: RTC. He reported that to Aivas.

"That explains why the cargo-bay doors remained open. They were on a remote time control, which must have malfunctioned. The simplest method now is to use the manual release, Jaxom," Aivas told him. "It is found under the terminal. Open the glass lid and pull."

Grabbing the handle of the manual release, Jaxom gave a yank. When nothing happened, he gave a second, more forceful yank. Fortunately he was still holding on to the handle, for the force of the yank sent him dangling above the deck, hanging on by one outstretched arm. A strange gargling noise echoed in his ears.

"What has happened, Jaxom?" Aivas asked, his voice as calm as ever.

Jaxom's momentary panic subsided. In chagrin, he explained.

"Pull yourself toward the deck by exerting a downward pressure on the handle, and very slowly tuck your feet forward," Aivas instructed.

Jaxom obeyed and was relieved to feel his soles restored to a firm contact with the deck. Engrossed in recovering from his hasty action, he did not at first notice the alteration in the light on the deck. The motion caught his peripheral vision to the right; he turned his head, remembering to move slowly, and saw the great cargo-bay doors folding slowly inward, wrapping him in more complete safety.

The door lights on the panel turned from red to green, and suddenly the aggravating orange light winked out.

"Operation completed," Jaxom said, wanting to shout in relief.

"That is enough for today. Retrace your steps and return to base."

Later that afternoon, when Robinton, Lytol, and D'ram arrived for a private meeting, Aivas had further interesting disclosures to make.

"Your wandering planet is flagrantly erratic," he told them. "There has been time to study most of the Records presented to this facility. Even the most illegible ones have been deciphered, using available restoration techniques. The Red Star, as it is inaccurately called, has an aberrant course and does not cross Pern's path every two hundred and fifty years. The orbit varies by almost ten years in four Passes-three were two hundred fifty-eight, and one was two hundred forty. Thread Passes alter from forty-six years in the Second Pass to fifty-two in the Fifth and forty-eight in the Seventh. The two intervals of four hundred years each appear to suggest that the planet did not, in fact, orbit as far as the Oort Cloud, or was, in some inexplicable fashion, diverted from its usual orbit. The former theory is more acceptable than the latter. Another possibility"-and the resonant tone indicated that this was most unlikely-"is that it passed through attenuated portions of this cometary reservoir. Of more importance, and based on calculations from the Yokohama's bridge, this Pass will be short by three years."

"Now that is very good news indeed," D'ram said. "But I don't understand how such inaccuracies could have slipped into the Records."

"That is not at issue," Aivas replied. "Though the method of dating on this planet promotes error."

"Then that would account for the need to position the Eye Rocks, wouldn't it?" Lytol asked. "Because no matter if dating was faulty, the Weyrs would always know exactly when a Pass was imminent."

"An ingenious method of ascertaining the correct position of a planet, though by no means original," Aivas replied.

"Yes, yes," Lytol said hastily. "You told me about Stonehenge and the Triangles of Eridani. Do the inaccuracies have any other importance?"

"That information is still being correlated and updated. Optimistically, it augurs well for the success of the Plan."

"And we can reassure Holds and Halls on that account?" Robinton asked, his voice buoyant with hope.

"You can indeed."

"This briefing, then, is to decide what information can be made public."

"Yes."

"What else can we tell them?"

"As much as you know."

Robinton chuckled. "Which is very little."

"But significant," Aivas replied. "The two expeditions to the Yokohama have been extremely successful. You may also report that the next exercise will extend to the four green riders. It is vital for them to make bridge transfers and continue the research that Jaxom and Piemur initiated. Each will have an objective during his time on board."

"Why did Jaxom have to close the cargo-bay doors today? Especially when you said that that area will not be used for some time," D'ram asked, curious.

"It is necessary for someone to get practice in working in free-fall and to become accustomed to using the space suit. Jaxom is the most adept computer operator, and Ruth is the most courageous of the dragons."

Robinton noticed that Lytol perceptibly preened himself on hearing such praise of his ward.

"Does the fact that he is also a Lord Holder and can report on his expedition come into consideration?" Robinton asked, amused.

"That did figure in the choice; but competence, and being a dragonrider, were more important."

Robinton chuckled. "So who goes next?"

"Now that Ruth has led the way, the green dragons will feel compelled to follow where the littlest one of them has gone before. They will be sent in pairs: Mirrim and Path, G'rannat and Sulath. They have complementary temperaments and skills."

Robinton chuckled. "You are indeed well versed in manipulating people."

"It is not manipulation, Master Robinton. It is understanding the basic personalities of those who are being trained."

"The cargo area is large enough for bronze dragons to transfer," D'ram suggested.

"Not until there is also sufficient air for them to breathe. They will play a major role in future steps, D'ram," Aivas said. "But the next step will be to reestablish oxygen-producing algae in the hydroponics area to purify the air of the few usable areas on the Yokohama. The telescope will have to be adjusted periodically. There is one probe left that may or may not be operational. It could be useful. Failing that, it would be helpful if perhaps a bronze dragon and his rider could venture to obtain samples from the Oort debris."

"What?" The exclamation came in a chorus from all three startled men.

"A sample of pre-Fall Thread was never obtained by the colonists, though several attempts were made. An analysis," Aivas insisted, raising its voice over renewed protests from the three custodians, "would be carried out in the one remaining operational laboratory on the Yokohama in the cold-sleep facility. The rewards of a proper scientific analysis of the Thread material far outweigh any risk. From what I have seen of the abilities and intelligence of the bronze dragons and their riders, the risk would be minimal-once, of course, they have the exact directions for such a flight, and when protective gear is available for the rider."

The three regarded the screen with varying degrees of stunned amazement.

"Thread in its nodular form is not dangerous," Aivas continued, as if oblivious to the effect of that statement on the custodians. "It is only when it finds a hospitable environment that it alters. For the purpose of analysis, it can be kept safely contained in one of the sleep capsules. Seven of the most promising biology students are already sufficiently trained to handle such investigations, Lady Sharra being the best of them. Much equipment for the investigation of frozen human and animal tissue is still up there. Even an electron microscope is in place in the cryogenic laboratory-making it an ideal site for our purpose."

Aivas sounded perfectly reasonable, his suggestions as logical and forthright as always, but Robinton instinctively balked at the mere notion of such an undertaking. He didn't dare glance at D'ram, or Lytol.

"To destroy a menace, one must perceive it as a whole and in its separate manifestations," Aivas continued.

"How can we possibly destroy Thread, if what you have told us about this Oort Cloud that surrounds our system is true?" the Harper asked.

"What you have been told is fact."

"Fact is not the only truth," Lytol reminded them all.

"Now, let's not deviate from the subject at hand," Robinton said, eyeing Lytol sternly. The former dragonrider and Aivas could indulge in semantics and philosophy on their own time.

"One alters the facts," Aivas went on as if Lytol had not interrupted. "That is the plan."

"I wish," Robinton said, leaning forward earnestly, "that you would tell us the whole of this plan of yours."

"Master Robinton, to use an analogy, you would not expect a new student to read a score of music perfectly on his first try, would you?" When Robinton agreed, Aivas continued. "Nor would you expect that same student, no matter how talented, to be able to perform to a high level of competence, playing intricate passages, on an unfamiliar instrument, would you?"

"I take the analogy," Robinton said, raising both hands in surrender.

"Then be reassured by the successes already achieved: the lessons learned and understood. Progress toward the high level that must be achieved is being made, but it would be harmful to overwhelm your valiant people before they are properly prepared by education and experience."

"You are right, completely right, Aivas," Robinton agreed, shaking his head at the folly of his impetuous demand.

"How critical to Pern, and to this project, is this Lord Holders Convocation, Master Robinton?" Aivas asked.

Robinton gave a wry smile. "That's the debatable point. But when all the Lord Holders assemble, minor irritations have a habit of flaring up into roaring debates. We-Sebell, Lytol, D'ram, and I-have good reason to believe that Landing, and this project, may be called to question by some of the dissatisfied and conservative elements. We'll be better able to gauge reactions after Sallah Telgar's interment tomorrow."

"Will many attend that ceremony?"

Robinton's grin turned broad and slightly malicious. "Anybody who is anybody on Pern will be there! Master Shonagar has been relentlessly rehearsing apprentices and journeymen; Domick has been killing himself to produce suitable music, including a splendid fanfare of trumpets. Dragons will fill the sky to do her honor." Robinton felt an unexpected closure of his throat at the thought of the tributes arranged for this fabled ancestress. "Perschar, among others, will be on hand to illustrate."

"Such scenes would be an unusual addition to the archives of present-day Pern," Aivas remarked.

"You shall have them, of course," Robinton promised earnestly.

"As well as your individual verbal accounts of the proceedings."

"All of us?" D'ram asked surprised.

"Different perspectives often supply the full dimensions of an event."

By the next evening, Robinton was not certain if the full dimensions of Sallah Telgar's interment would ever be properly recorded. It had been quite a day, and for once he admitted that he was very, very tired.

Larad and his lady had organized a splendid occasion, with master instrumentalists, under the direction of Domick himself, and singers from all over the continent to sing the Ballad of Sallah Telgar. The large Telgar Gather pits had been utilized to feed those who had begun arriving the day before. Most had thoughtfully brought their own rations, but Telgar stinted no one, and anyone of consequence was accommodated in the portions of the great Hold that had not been tenanted since the last plague. Robinton rather thought that every holder in Telgar had been drafted to clean; Lady Jissamy was by no means lax in her duties, even the farthest corner of her domain enduring inspection once every Turn, but the place sparkled and shone as never before.

The interment had been set for mid-afternoon. Every dragon came laden with as many passengers as it was safe to carry. Toric himself arrived on K'van's Heth; his seldom-seen wife, Ramala, accompanied him. He immediately began to solicit the other Lord Holders for guards to help him with his rebels. From the expression on the big Southerner's face, Robinton surmised that he was meeting with little success. When the Harper had a chance to compare notes with Sebell, it appeared that the Lord Holders, without exception, felt that this was an inappropriate time to recruit a punitive force-which meant that Toric would air that problem at the Conference. That was another debate sure to be heated. Robinton was of two minds about attending: he was no longer obliged to, but the invitation had been made to him, and though he trusted Sebell to report accurately, he preferred to make his own observations whenever possible.

However, all minor rifts and major controversies faded into insignificance as the interment ceremonies commenced. The Ballad was magnificently performed. Then, cued by Ruth and Jaxom, the massed Weyrs appeared in the skies above Telgar. Robinton felt tears well up in his eyes, tears not only in reaction to the honor the massed Weyrs did Sallah Telgar, but in remembrance for the previous occasion, nearly twenty Turns before, when the five Lost Weyrs had reappeared in the Telgar skies to meet Threadfall with Benden's valiant wings. Today, Lessa's Ramoth and Telgar's senior queen dragon Solth carried between them the hammock containing Sallah's coffin. The sun glinted off the gold plate, trim, and handles, giving the impression that Rukbat itself was honoring the gallant woman and causing the throng to gasp in awe. Ranged above the two queens, the Weyrs formed seven sections in a close formation, wingtip to wingtip, that was a feat of wingmanship in itself.

The entire mass followed the two queens down, hovering as Ramoth and Solth delicately placed their burden on the bier, the hammock falling gracefully to either side. An honor escort of Holders stepped forward to bear the coffin the last few lengths to its final resting place.

The massed dragonriders swirled, each keeping its Weyr formation, and came to rest either on Telgar's fireheights or as a border to the assembled. Then Larad stepped forward, his sons behind him, as Aivas had confirmed that they were, indeed, the direct descendants of Sallah Telgar and Tarvi Andiyar.

"Let this be a day of rejoicing that this valiant lady has returned to the world she gave her life to protect. Let her rest now with others of the Blood in the Hold that bears her name and honors her above all its ancestors."

With those simple words, Larad stepped aside, and the coffin was lifted to the shoulders of the escort and carried in measured step toward the tomb. As the coffin was placed inside, the dragons, one and all, lifted their heads to keen. A heart-tearing sound on any occasion, but to Robinton, tears streaming down his face, the notes had an oddly triumphant ring. As if in response to that, an immense flurry of wings was heard, and what must have been every fire-lizard in the North and South, wild and tame, swooped down in a deep, wide aerial veil just above the heads of the escort, across the still open tomb, adding their high voices in counterpoint to the dragons' deeper tones. Then they swept up and, at the top of Telgar's precipice, abruptly disappeared.

Robinton had wondered where Zair had gone to, and only now realized that those around him who were usually adorned by a fire-lizard had had empty shoulders from the moment the massed dragon wings had appeared in the sky.

The escort, somewhat stunned by that final flourish to the solemn event, stepped back, and the Telgar masons, their Gather-best clothes protected by new aprons, moved forward to seal the opening.

In respectful silence-for even the youngest had been awed by the dragon and fire-lizard displays-the assembled waited until the tomb was completely closed and the masons stood aside. Larad and Jissamy moved together to face the tomb and bowed deeply, as did the escort. The obeisance was repeated by everyone present.

Then Larad, his lady, and the escort stepped back and proceeded toward the broad court of Telgar Hold. Domick's musicians began to play a solemn and majestic piece to signal the end of the ceremonies. They followed behind the last of the crowd dispersing to enjoy the hospitality of Telgar Hold.

Robinton was looking forward with great anticipation to tasting one of the roast beasts turning on the great spits, not to mention a fine vintage of Benden wine that he was certain Larad would provide him, when he felt a touch on his elbow.

"Robinton!" Jaxom said in a low voice, his eyes sparking with fury. "They tried to attack Aivas. Come!"

"Tried?" Robinton repeated, shocked. He simply couldn't comprehend what Jaxom had just said.

"Tried!" Jaxom repeated grimly, guiding Robinton by the elbow toward the edge of those sauntering along toward the court. "Farli brought just a scribble, so I know no more than that, but I for one can't stand about here."

"Nor I!" Nothing would settle Robinton's pounding heart until he saw with his own eyes that Aivas had suffered no damage. The very thought of being deprived of the knowledge they were daily gaining from the facility was enough to give him another heart attack. He also decided not to spread the information until he had reassured himself. Shards! He was getting old. Why had he not realized that today would be the perfect time to make a direct attack-when Landing was nearly deserted. Everyone who could come was up here in Telgar.

"Edge over further, Master Robinton. We're almost to Ruth now. We'll just get to Landing and see for ourselves. I don't think anyone should ruin this," Jaxom said, gesturing to indicate the festivities.

"Properly said, Lord Holder." Robinton moved with more alacrity to where Ruth had been edging toward them as inconspicuously as possible. No one would think it odd that Jaxom and the white dragon would offer to save Robinton the walk back to Telgar Hold court. So they mounted and Ruth, swinging upward and over Telgar cliff, abruptly went between.

The white dragon came out right above a clearing in front of the Aivas building. As Robinton and Jaxom made their way to the door, those crowding the entrance parted to let them through. Noting their expressions, the Harper was puzzled: anger would have been understandable; amusement was not.

Lytol was on duty that day-someone had to see that the students appeared for their scheduled courses-permitting D'ram and Robinton to attend the Telgar ceremony. He was sitting in his customary seat, but he wore a bandage on his head and his clothing was torn. Jancis and the Landing healer were in attendance, but she grinned reassuringly at the new arrivals.

"Don't worry! His skull's too hard to crack," she said gaily. With an expansive wave, she directed their attention down the corridor to Aivas. "And he's got a few tricks he never bothered to mention."

"Go look," Lytol said with a most uncharacteristic grin of pleased malice.

Robinton was first down the corridor; he stepped two strides in and stopped, causing Jaxom to bump into him. Standing guard were Piemur and six of the sturdiest students, hefty clubs held at the ready. Two of them wore head bandages. On the floor were the unconscious bodies of the attackers, the heavy axes or metal bars with which they had intended to wreak havoc on Aivas piled beyond reach.

"Aivas protects himself," Piemur said with a grin, swinging his club in a circle on its thong.

"What happened?" Robinton demanded.

"We were taking a meal break," Piemur said as Jancis joined him, "when we heard the most awful noise. We rushed back and found Lytol, Ker, and Miskin knocked down, and then this lot acting as if their brains were on fire. Which, from the residual sound we heard, is a fair description."

"But what-"

"This facility was provided with resources to prevent tampering," Aivas said, his voice reaching down the corridor. As matter-of-fact as the tone was, Robinton also sensed a faint note of satisfaction, certainly permissible, he thought, given the circumstances. "There are sounds that, emitted at volume, can render humans unconscious. When the intruders attacked Lytol, Ker, and Miskin, it seemed advisable to initiate this defensive measure. Regrettably, some permanent aural damage may result, but most should regain consciousness within a few hours. They took more sonics than is-was-normally required in dissuasion."

"I-we-had no idea you had defenses," Robinton said, struggling with both relief and surprise.

"A built-in feature of any Aivas, Master Robinton, though seldom required. These units are programmed with industrially and politically valuable information, which dissidents would find useful. Unauthorized access and/or destructive actions must, therefore, be actively discouraged, and this has always been a minor function of an Aivas facility."

"Well, I must say, I do feel better knowing that, but why didn't you tell us?"

"The question didn't arise."

"But you knew there'd been that attempt to ruin your battery power," Jaxom began.

"The facility was not in any danger from such crude vandalism. You were quick to provide effective measures against a repeat of such sabotage."

"But why didn't you do whatever you did today then? " Jaxom asked.

"Such measures are best invoked during a direct assault, when they are most effective."

"What exactly did you do?" Jaxom gestured to the limp bodies.

"Sonic barrage," Piemur said, grinning. "Pure and penetrating sound. Must have hurt." He gestured to one man who lay face-up wearing a contorted expression that suggested the pain he had endured before unconsciousness had relieved it. Piemur gave the body a contemptuous push with his toe. "I don't know where Norist got them."

"Norist?" Robinton exclaimed.

Piemur shrugged. "Has to be Norist. He's the one who's most vocal about destroying the 'Abomination.' And look..." He bent and lifted the limp hand of one of the attackers. "Those look like glass-pipe calluses, and he's certainly got old burn scars on his arms. He's the only one who has them. But once they wake up, we can ask a few questions. And get answers!" Piemur's voice took on a harsh edge.

"Who knows about this?" the Masterharper asked.

"Everyone presently in Landing," Piemur said with a shrug, and then grinned impishly. "Which isn't many, since everyone who could grabbed a dragonride to Telgar. How'd that go?"

"Impressively," Robinton said almost absently as he moved to check the other would-be vandals. "The dragons and the firelizards accorded her their own tribute."

"Ruth didn't even warn me," Jaxom added with a wry grin.

It was fitting. The dragons were in agreement. The fire-lizards imitated them, but that was fitting, too, Ruth told Jaxom, who told the others.

Robinton didn't recognize a single face among the attackers. Gloomily he wondered if Norist had indeed planned and organized the assault. "Lytol's truly all right?" he asked in a low voice, glancing back toward the front entrance.

"He's got a terrible bump," Jancis said, "and the healer says he cracked a rib, falling on the edge of the desk, but his pride's more injured than his skull. You should have heard him complaining that Ker and Miskin were too slow on their feet to be of any assistance."

"Against eight men armed with axes and bars?" Robinton said, appalled at the possible harm such implements could have done to his friend, much less to Aivas. He found himself swaying a bit on his feet.

Immediately Piemur grabbed him, roaring at Jaxom to take the other side and ordering Jancis to get the healer and some wine, and they helped him into the nearest room– and into a chair. Protestingly, he flailed at their hands, but even to his own ears his voice held a quaver of weakness that appalled him.

"It's time to bespeak Lessa and F'lar," Jaxom said, "and I don't bloody care what excuse they give Larad. Ruth!"

As Robinton lifted a hand to object, Jaxom's expression told him that he had already given Ruth the message to forward. Jancis arrived with a huge mug of wine, which Robinton sipped gratefully while the healer fussed at him.

"The Masterharper has taken no harm; his vital signs are restored to acceptable levels," Aivas said. "Do not distress yourself, Master Robinton, for there has been no lasting harm done to humans and none to this facility."

"That is not the point, Aivas," Jaxom said, whirling around. "No harm should have been considered, much less attempted."

"The winds of change create a climate of resistance. That is to be expected."

"By you?" Jaxom asked, irritated by Aivas's imperturbability. Why hadn't they realized how ideal this day was to dissidents like Norist, who would have known that Robinton and D'ram would attend the honors done Sallah Telgar, that anyone who could grab a ride a-dragonback would be gone from Landing?

"And me. Ease up, lad," Lytol said, entering the room just then. "I figured an attempt might be made. That's why I made Ker and Miskin stay back. But I didn't think there'd be so many of 'em. Rushed us, and we'd no chance." He looked keenly at Robinton. "Humpf. You look much the way I feel, Robinton." He lowered himself carefully into the nearest chair. "Master Esselin was with me at the time, but he fainted when that gang barged in. I hadn't thought to arm the students. They were nearby, and fifteen of 'em should have been sufficient deterrent."

Just then two of Esselin's young apprentice archivists came running down the corridor, shouting for Piemur.

"Quietly!" Piemur bellowed, then grimaced in apology.

"Harper, we found their runners, tied up in a copse just off the old sea road," the older lad reported. "Silfar and I rode a pair back after we'd moved 'em from where they was in case someone escaped. Trestan and Rona stayed 'cos Rona has a fire-lizard." His eyes were big in his flushed young face, and he was panting from excitement, as well as exertion. The eyes of the bronze fire-lizard clinging to his shoulder were whirling in violent patterns of red and orange.

"Well done, Deegan," Piemur said. "Have you winded your runners?"

"No, sir, Harper." Deegan's expression became indignant at the thought of injuring a valuable beast. "They're sweet movers. Cost a pouch or two for that sort of runner, sir."

"Send your bronze to reassure Rona and go back and bring in the others. We might find something interesting in their gear."

"All they had in their saddle packs was food, sir," Deegan added apologetically. "I looked, 'cos I thought there might be some clues."

Again Piemur nodded approval. "Off you go, then." He turned grimly to the others. "There're more in on this than Norist and his cranks. How'd expensive runners get south? Who put up the marks to buy eight and send 'em here?"

"Meaning a dissident Masterfisher is also involved?" Jaxom asked.

"That's the one craft that has not benefited very much from Aivas's stored information," Piemur said, frowning.

Robinton shook his head, but it was Lytol who spoke. "Not at all, Piemur. Master Idarolan was exceedingly grateful to Aivas for the detailed charts of depths and currents that Captain Tillek compiled. The overviews from space are truly astounding." Lytol paused in respectful awe, then shrugged. "Of course, there have been alterations in coastlines since then, but the accuracy of the charts makes it all that much easier to update them. Every master has been given copies, and specific area charts are being supplied to every fisherman. What Master Idarolan approves is accepted by every master of his craft."

"True enough," Piemur replied, but added in a sardonic tone, "though I can think of one or two extremely conservative and hidebound Masterfishers, without naming any names, who might sympathize with Norist's discontent. Look at how many people made it to Southern who weren't supposed to."

"A full purse can close many a mouth," Lytol added cynically.

"Let us not make rash assumptions," Robinton said.

"Lessa says it's impossible for either herself or F'lar to come," Jaxom reported at that point. "But F'nor can. The Weyrleaders're both livid and want to know how such an attack could occur."

One of the assault group stirred, moaning.

"We'll find out!" Jaxom and Piemur said simultaneously, and exchanged grimly determined glances.

"Might I suggest we tie these fellows up before they regain their wits?" Robinton asked, eyeing the sizes and comparing them to the slighter frames of the student guards.

"Yes, and we've just the thing to hand." Piemur reached for a coil of thick flex, a savage grin on his face. "C'mon, you lot," he said, turning to the students, "let's truss these sharding dimwits up properly."

Once restraints were in place, each man's clothing was searched, but the exercise proved fruitless. Old scars, thick ears, and broken noses suggested that five of the eight had fought often. Only the one bore marks of the glass-smith craft, but the remaining two were equally rough livers.

"Swacky might know some of 'em," Piemur suggested. "He's been sergeant at arms in enough Holds over the Turns to know a lot of the regulars."

"They'd hardly pick men wed recognize, now would they?" Robinton said. "But if Swacky could identify any one of them, that might give us a direction for inquiry. Aivas, how long will they remain unconscious?"

Aivas said that the period was variable. "The duller the subject, the more sonic barrage is required. As you see, they survived to the very threshold."

"I don't like that at all," Robinton said explosively.

"However, they would not have passed the threshold," Aivas assured him.

Robinton shuddered and drank down the rest of his wine. "Let's get them out of the hall. Surely we have some secure building to hold them in. It's almost-almost obscene leaving them sprawled in the hallway like this."

"Assistance just arrived," Jaxom said.

They heard the bugling challenge of many dragons-F'nor, T'gellan, Mirrim, and nearly a full wing of Eastern Weyr riders.

"From now on there will be full dragon surveillance for Aivas," F'nor said when he had heard Lytol's concise report.

"Eastern insists on the honor," T'gellan said.

"I just wish it hadn't come to this," Robinton said, shaking his head wearily.

"My dear friend," Lytol said, placing a consoling hand on the Harper's shoulder, "it was bound to happen. You should have taken time to read the histories as I did. You would then have been better prepared for the cultural upheaval which is occurring in every Hold, Hall, and Weyr."

"I had hoped that Aivas would insure a bright future for us all..." Robinton began, raising his arms in an expansive gesture before letting them fall limply to his knees.

"That's because you're the eternal optimist," Lytol said with a sad smile.

"That's no bad way to be," Piemur said firmly, shooting Lytol a quelling glare. It pained the young journeyman to see his master so depressed and listless. The warder shrugged and turned away to hide his cynicism.

T'gellan dispatched a rider to bring Swacky from Paradise River Hold in the hope that he might recognize one of the intruders. Jayge, reckoning that he, too, might be of some help since he had seen so much of the Eastern Holds during his trading days, arrived with Swacky.

"Yeah, I recognize this pair," Swacky said, reaching out to turn one lolling head from side to side. "Bitrans, if I remember rightly. Bitrans'll do anything if you give 'em enough marks."

"Any name come to mind, Swacky?" F'nor asked, frowning.

Swacky gave a shrug of his thick shoulders. "No. Bitrans aren't friendly, and I don't think you're going to get much out of this lot. They're too stubborn to give in and too stupid to give up. They do stay bought," he added with grudging respect.

Jayge, kneeling by another man, shook his head. "I know him. I don't know where I know him from. I'll tell you one thing, though-he's worked fishnets. Look at these three-corner tears on his fingers and palms. That's net damage."

Robinton heaved a long sigh, and Lytol looked grimmer than ever.

When the first of them finally regained consciousness late that evening, he stared around with bleak panic in his face; it soon became obvious that he had lost his hearing. To written questions he merely shook his head. Consultations between Aivas and the healer about a return of hearing produced no helpful results.

"As a consequence to the extreme deterrent required to prevent their entry, regrettably permanent damage may have been inflicted," Aivas said.

When the vandals' animals were brought in, none of the gear identified its source. The saddles were new but bore no leatherman's stamp; the runners were not ear-notched or branded and betrayed the nervousness of very green animals.

"Probably stolen from Keroon or Telgar herds before spring culls" was the opinion of Masterherder Briaret, who came the next day to assist in the inquiry. "Whoever chose them knew his runners and picked those that don't show any particular characteristics from sire or dam. They was rough broke," he added, looking into the mouth of one and pointing out biting scars, "never been shod, and came by sea." He indicated the marks on hips, rumps, and shoulders that had been caused by rubbing against the sides of the narrow stalls used to transport animals by ship. "Don't think we'll find out where they was stolen from, but I'll put the word out to my Halls."

The tack, he said, was all apprentice-made, pointing out the flaws that would have made them unsalable at any reputable Tannerhall.

"These could have been picked up from various Halls over the course of a Turn or two, from 'prentices needing Gathermarks. I'd say that whoever planned this has planned long and well," the Masterherder stated.

The sturdy but worn clothing was of a style and fabric available all across the continent, and the camping equipment had seen considerable use.

"Could've staked out here for a spell, just waiting for a good opportunity," Briaret guessed. "Like the ceremony at Telgar."

In one saddlebag the searchers found a small collapsible telescope of the sort used by fishermen, but it bore no other mark than the usual Telgar Smith stamp on the metal rim of the eyepiece.

When Master Idarolan was asked his opinion, he was outraged that any of his Craft could have been involved. He promised to investigate, admitting that there were some who were, unfortunately, no credit to their calling and were not above making a clandestine voyage for a full purse of marks after a bad season. He would name no one as yet, but he knew whom to watch, he assured everyone.

Swacky volunteered to stay at Landing as warder of the invaders, hoping that he might yet get one of them to confide in him.

Jayge lingered, too, finally admitting to Piemur and Jancis that he would very much like an interview with Aivas, if that was at all possible.

"No problem, Jayge," Piemur reassured him. He grinned broadly. "Beginning to think all this new technology has some use?"

Jayge gave a wry chuckle. "I need to know if Readis and Alemi are both losing their wits. They swear they've had more conversations with shipfish-dolphins. The dolphins say they came with the original settlers." Jayge set his jaw as if waiting for derision.

"Dolphins did come with the settlers, Jayge," Piemur reassured him. Jancis nodded, as well. Then the young harper's expression turned rueful. "We've been so busy with space that we really still haven't caught up on other important details. C'mon. Everyone else's busy with the intruders right now, so Aivas is free."

"The dolphins are indeed capable of communicating with humans," Aivas told Jayge when he asked. "Mentasynth enhancement is genetically transmitted, so that the ability would have survived through any number of generations. They were the most successful of the mentasynth experiments. It is good to know that the species has survived. Are they numerous? It would appear from the question, Holder Jayge, that contact has not been maintained. Is that so?"

"No, it has not," Jayge admitted apologetically. "Though my wife and myself, as well as my son and Masterfisherman Alemi, owe our lives to them."

"The species has always been considerate of humankind.

"And they do speak a language we humans could learn?"

"Since humans taught them the language, yes. But it would be the language of your ancestors, not that which is in current usage. This facility was able to make linguistic adjustments that would not be available to the dolphins, despite their great intelligence."

"The shipfish have great intelligence?" Piemur asked in surprise.

"They possess an intelligence measurably equal to, if not surpassing, most human intellects."

"I find that hard to believe," Piemur muttered.

"Believe it," Aivas replied. "Holder Jayge, if you are interested in reviving the communications link with dolphins, this facility would be glad to assist you."

Jayge grimaced. "It's not me, Aivas. I was just here and wanted to know. It's my son, Readis, and our Masterfisherman Alemi, who thought the dolphins were speaking."

"The resumption of that link could be of great value to fishermen and all who use the seaways. Time can be allotted to that study."

"I'll tell Alemi. He'll be delighted to hear it."

"Your son?"

"Oh, Readis is a child."

"A child has fewer inhibitions in learning new languages, Holder Jayge."

Jayge's eyes bulged in surprise. "But he's only five!"

"A most receptive age. This facility would take great pleasure in instructing young Readis."

"I'd really thought you all were embellishing your accounts of that Aivas of yours," Jayge said in a low voice to the grinning pair who escorted him out of the room, "but you were harpertrue this time."

"Aivas doesn't need embellishments," Piemur assured him smugly.

"You will bring Readis, won't you?" Jancis asked. "Tell Ara that I'd take very good care of him while he's here." She giggled. "I think it's the best thing I've heard yet. Shipfish are smarter than us humans!"

"I think we better keep quiet on that score," Piemur said, his expression solemn. "We've got enough trouble as it is. That opinion'd really start a snake hunt. Even with folks who've got a lot of common sense."

"I think it's marvelous," Jancis repeated, grinning in broad malice. "It's perfect. Alemi'll be over the moons."

Jayge looked chagrined. "Ara'll beat him there. She swore blind that the dolphins talked to her when they saved us from drowning."

"Then bring Ara, too," Piemur suggested. "There ought to be more than just two to learn dolphin talk. Say, you know it might be smart to teach more kids than just Readis. Not meaning to detract from him, Jayge, but if, say, we put it about that Aivas was teaching mainly kids, no adults would get suspicious. Because I'm serious, people. I don't think we ought to spread this intelligence thing about."

"I agree," Jancis said.

Jayge shrugged. "I'll accept that judgment. And I'll bring Readis, Alemi, and whoever else he thinks we should include. Talking to shipfish! Wow! That's a real stunner." And he shook his head slowly as his friends escorted him back to where V'line and bronze Clarmath waited to convey him back to Paradise River Hold.

The day before the Lord Holders Conference, the Benden Weydeaders held a short meeting at Cove Hold to decide whether to bring up the matter of the attempt to disable Aivas.

By then all eight men had recovered from the sonic coma: two would never be of use to anyone; none had recovered their hearing. Three wrote messages asking for relief from unbearable head pains, which finally abated after considerable dosing with fellis juice. Since none of them were willing to divulge any information about those who had hired them to attack Aivas, his guardians had no recourse but to have them all transported to the mines of Crom to work underground with other incorrigibles.

"Why do we have to bring the subject up at all? Let's just let rumor work for us," Master Robinton suggested with a devious smile. "Let them ask us for explanations. That is, if any are required."

"Seeing it my way for a change?" Lytol asked sardonically.

"The rumors are alive and exploding with inventiveness," Jaxom said, grinning at Piemur.

"I'm not sure that's altogether the wisest course," Lessa said, scowling.

"Who has ever controlled rumor?" Robinton demanded.

"You!" Lessa retorted promptly, her scowl disappearing into a wide smile for the person who had so often deliberately spread rumors.

"Not really," Robinton replied smugly. "Not after I sent off the original version."

"Well, then, what's being bruited about right now?" F'lar asked.

"That Aivas perceives the motives of anyone approaching him and has withered the unworthy," Piemur answered eagerly, ticking off the variations of his fingers. "That he horribly maimed some innocent petitioners who had the audacity to approach him early one morning because they overheard him plotting with Lord Jaxom." Jaxom had apparently heard that variation and only snorted. "That we installed a squadron of Gather champions to defend the place and they'll beat up anyone they didn't like the look of; that there is a full wing of dragons constantly on guard and that they are somehow under Aivas's complete control; that fire-lizards are afraid of their lives to come near Landing anymore; that the Aivas has deadly and powerful weapons that can paralyze anyone not totally committed to his intentions for Pern's future. That Aivas has control of all Weyrleaders and Lord Holders-" Piemur had to wait until the indignation of the attending Weydeaders subsided. "-and was going to take over the running of the planet, and that all too soon the three Dawn Sisters were going to come crashing down on Pern, causing irreparable damage to any Hold or Hall that won't support Aivas. And if the Dawn Sisters lose their position in the sky, all the other stars will go out of control, so that's how Aivas will prevent any further Threadfall, because Pern will be totally destroyed and not even Thread will find it hospitable." Piemur took a deep breath and, his eyes glinting with amusement, asked, "Heard enough?"

"All I care to, certainly," Lessa said with considerable asperity. "Absolute twaddle!"

"Is anyone taking any of it seriously?" F'lar asked, leaning forward.

Lytol sucked in his breath. "Some of that foolishness would account for the extreme tenseness of that delegation from Nerat, that group who applied for advice on how to counteract a blight. Masterfarmer Losacot had to chivvy them to enter the room. I mentioned the fact in my day report."

"Did Aivas notice their reluctance?" Lessa asked.

"I certainly wouldn't ask Aivas a question like that. Totally irrelevant," Lytol said, somewhat surprised and indignant. He gave Lessa a sharp look. "The important point is that they apparently received a positive answer, for they were discussing the ways to implement his advice when they left. Master Losacot stopped to thank me for slotting them in so promptly. I thought the matter quite urgent."

"I still maintain that the more people who encounter Aivas," Robinton said, "the more support any plan of his will receive."

"Not always," Lytol disagreed in a low voice.

Then he smiled at the Harper. "But you and I have agreed to differ on that score, haven't we?"

"We have," the Harper replied affably, but there was a sad shadow in his eyes as he gazed on the old warder.

"So, what attitude do we take at the Conference tomorrow?" Lessa demanded. "Presuming, of course, the Weyrleaders will be allowed into the meeting."

"Oh, you will be," Jaxom said. "Larad, Groghe, Asgenar, Toronas, and Deckter wouldn't permit exclusion of Benden and High Reaches Weyrleaders!" He grinned. "I think we ought to wait until they bring up the subject."

"Tomorrow's a solemn occasion, Jaxom," Lytol said, favoring his former charge with a stern look.

"Not all of it, and I really can keep countenance when I need to, old friend." Jaxom grinned engagingly at Lytol and ignored Piemur's snort. "Since so many of us should be in attendance, T'gellan and K'van have doubled the dragon guard here."

"D'ram's in charge," Robinton added. "Insisted, since both Lytol and myself ought to attend the Conference." "As if you'd miss it," Lessa replied, her eyebrows raised. "This one least of all," Robinton remarked affably.