All the Weyrs of Pern (19 page)

Oh, all right. If you say so.

Laughing with a mixture of amusement, sheer relief, and fury, Jaxom dashed down the corridor and outside. The others were close on his heels, full of triumph and the laughter of relief. Lessa, however, was raging at the risk Ruth had taken, and she knew from the set expression on F’lar’s face that he felt the same.

Halfway down the corridor, F’lar caught Lessa by the arm. “You may be furious, Lessa, but we can’t intervene in this. And I probably lost as many seconds of my life as you did over Ruth’s leap.”

“Ruth cannot be allowed to be so irresponsible,” she said, fuming. “Jaxom isn’t. I don’t understand how Ruth gets away with such disobedience. Ramoth wouldn’t.”

“Ruth and Jaxom were not Weyr-trained. But don’t think Ruth’s going to get off easily for this escapade.” He managed a droll grin. “Judging by the look on Jaxom’s face, he’s had a fright he won’t forget. That will inhibit Ruth far more surely than threats from you and me.” He gave her one of his little shakes. “More important, the less furor there is right now, the fewer rumors will abound.”

Lessa let out a heavy sigh, glared at him, and then gave herself a shake, releasing herself from his grasp.

“Yes, we don’t want this bruited about—at least, not quite yet. But I tell you, and I’ll tell Jaxom, too, I don’t want to live through another few seconds like that again. All I could think about was how under the heavens would we explain to Lytol.”

F’lar grinned wryly. “As it’s turned out, Lytol can print this up as a turning point in the modern history of Pern.”

“And just won’t he!”

Discretion muted the congratulations for the brave venturers, but everyone patted Ruth and scrubbed at his eyeridges until his eyes were whirling with delight. When Farli finally settled down again on Piemur’s shoulder, she also received extravagant caresses. False dawn was just lightening the eastern horizon, so there was a good chance that few were awake to wonder at the fuss being made of Ruth.

“I think,” Robinton began when the elation abated, “that we’d better return to Aivas. I, for one, would like to know what’s next.”

“Well, that depends on what Aivas learns from the instrumentation that Farli just turned on,” Jaxom replied. “If the bridge is intact, warms up, and there’s enough oxygen left in the tanks that supply that area, Ruth and I go up—together.” He grinned. “That’s when we initiate the telescopic sequences that will reaffirm the position of the system’s planets—most particularly, our old enemy, the Red Star.”

That was, however, not quite all that Aivas had in mind when, late the next day, the bridge atmospheric conditions were found to be satisfactory.

“Piemur, I would like you to accompany Jaxom,” Aivas said when the group reassembled.

“I’m not supposed to go with him this trip,” Piemur exclaimed.

“Originally, no. Two men will be needed for what should now be the first project. To demonstrate proper respect for Sallah Telgar, it is fitting that her mortal remains be brought back to Pern and properly interred. No doubt, Lord Larad would like to attend to whatever burial rituals are currently practiced.”

A profound silence prevailed until Robinton cleared his throat.

“Yes, that would be not only respectful and appropriate, but a long-overdue honor for such a valiant lady. I’ll inform Lord Larad immediately.”

“Would her space suit be usable after all this time?” Piemur asked, curious. When he saw the shocked expression on Jancis’s face, he belatedly realized how callous that sounded and, groaning, hid his face against his arm. Farli curled her tail consolingly around his throat.

“With some minor repairs, it is to be hoped that the space suit is usable,” Aivas replied so calmly that Robinton was certain that recovery of both body and suit had been planned from the start. “You are both to dress as warmly as possible, as the bridge temperature currently reads ten degrees below zero.”

Jaxom was unmoved by that information, since he was used to the absolute cold of
between
, but Piemur gave a dramatic shudder and hunched his shoulders as if already warding off the chill.

“Can Farli come, too?” he asked.

“That would be advisable,” Aivas said. “If Jancis’s Trig will accompany Farli, there would then be two fire-lizards who understand this sort of
between
transfer.”

Despite an obvious reluctance, Jancis instructed her young bronze Trig to settle himself on Piemur’s right shoulder. Jaxom and Piemur left the buildings by themselves so as not to suggest to anyone outside their small group that this journey was anything unusual. The bulky tanks of oxygen, which Aivas had insisted they bring in case of emergency, had already been secured to Ruth’s back, but Jaxom checked the ropes before he and Piemur mounted.

“Ready, Piemur?” Jaxom asked over his shoulder.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” the harper replied, resettling his grip on Jaxom’s wide belt. “But I’m awfully glad Ruth’s already been there.”

Tell Piemur not to worry. It’s fun to float!
Ruth remarked as he launched himself.

As Jaxom passed on that encouraging message, he felt Piemur’s spasmodic tug on his belt and knew that the harper was also nervous. Not that he didn’t trust Ruth to get them there. It was just such a long way!

Between
never seemed so cold nor the transfer so long, yet Jaxom, counting silently, reached ten seconds just as they emerged onto the bridge deck of the
Yokohama
.

“Are we there yet?” Piemur asked. His hands were rigid on Jaxom’s belt. As Jaxom looked over his shoulder to reassure the harper, he realized that Piemur had his eyes squeezed shut.

Rather than laugh at his friend, he cleared his throat and turned his head forward—and began to slide sideways off Ruth’s neck.

“Shards! What’s happening?” Piemur exclaimed, opening his eyes as he and Jaxom continued to slide to their right until they came up against the cold wall.

Don’t make sudden moves,
Ruth warned both of them.

“I heard you, I heard you,” Piemur replied. The freezing wall seemed to burn through the leather of his helmet and his jacket. “It is
cold
up here!”

Jaxom only nodded. “I’m going to pull us back up on Ruth, Piemur,” he said. Carefully grabbing a neck ridge, he slowly righted them. Farli unwrapped her tail and peered up at Jaxom, chirping encouragingly.

“That’s all I need,” Piemur said wryly. “My fire-lizard telling me how to handle free-fall!” Farli pushed off from his shoulder and floated upward. Trig squeaked; when Farli answered him in an encouraging tone, he let go of his perch and, following her example, also drifted away. The two came to rest on the ceiling, chittering animatedly.

“That’s enough, the pair of you,” Piemur said, disgusted.

“They’re not coming to any harm,” Jaxom said, “and Ruth says if we move slowly enough, we’ll be all right. We’ve got a lot to do. Look, Piemur, I’ll dismount—carefully—and then you can untie the oxygen tanks. Ruth says the tanks are bulky and he doesn’t move until we’ve untied them.
He
wants to look out the window.”

“
He
would!”

Jaxom heard the note of self-disparagement in Piemur’s voice and grinned. “They did have some practice, you know.”

“Hmmmm! The air here smells peculiar, sort of dead.”

“It’ll probably improve with the fresh tanks,” Piemur said cheerfuly.

Cautiously, Jaxom dismounted on the right-hand side of the white dragon. Keeping between Ruth and the wall might prevent him from floating about.

Your placement is perfect, Ruth
, he told his weyrmate approvingly, hanging on to a neck ridge as he judiciously lowered himself.

It’s the only place I’d fit,
Ruth remarked, slowly turning his head to his right to observe the margin.
I’ll hook my tail so I won’t drift when you unload me.

Now I know why dragons have tails!
Jaxom replied, giving a nervous chuckle.

“Don’t laugh,” Piemur warned. He had just swung his leg over and had to clutch at Ruth’s wing joint to keep from floating upward.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, Piemur. Ruth’s just found out how to anchor himself. Watch his tail. And dismount to the right, not the left. Don’t grab that wing joint so hard. Wings are fragile.”

“I know, I know. Sorry, Ruth.” But as Jaxom watched anxiously, he could see that Piemur had to make a considerable effort to relax his grip. “I’ve done some crazy things in my life, stealing fire-lizard eggs, crawling into carry-sacks, scrambling along shorelines—but this is undoubtedly the craziest,” Piemur muttered to himself as he eased off Ruth’s back, following Jaxom’s example. At last his feet touched the deck. “Made it!” he exclaimed.

Wedged between the wall and his dragon, Jaxom began to untie the ropes that secured the oxygen tanks to Ruth’s back.

“Huh!” Jaxom exclaimed in surprise as the tiniest push sent the first tank drifting toward the deck. “Well, easier off than on! As Aivas said.” He grinned at the young harper, who was gaping in surprise. “No weight at all.” With one finger, he pushed the second tank after the first.

“Hey, I could get to like a place where work is play,” Piemur said with a grin as he began to relax.

“Here—let’s stack them against the wall. By the first Egg!” Jaxom inadvertently used more force than necessary to lift the tank and nearly launched it over Ruth.

“Wow!” Piemur stretched out to restrain the tank and found himself rising. But he was quick enough to grab Ruth’s wing and correct the reaction. “Yeah, this free-fall stuff has distinct advantages! I’ll tend to the others.”

While Jaxom watched in surprise, Piemur took a firm hold of Ruth’s shoulder neck ridge and executed an effortless flip over the white dragon’s back.

“Whee!” The exclamation was part laugh and part surprise that his unorthodox maneuver succeeded in guiding him neatly into the narrow space between the dragon and the railing around the upper level of the bridge. “This is fun!”

“Watch it, Piemur. We don’t want those tanks crashing into anything.”

“I’ll just tie these down.”

“It is safest to secure any loose object on board a spacegoing vessel,” Aivas agreed, as calm as ever. “You are doing well. Bridge temperature is still rising, and all proximity alarms are quiescent.”

“Proximity alarms?” Piemur asked, his voice rising in surprise.

“Yes, this facility is now receiving function reports and damage analysis,” Aivas went on. “Considering its length of time in space, the fabric of the
Yokohama
has not had a significant breach. The solar-powered deflector shields display no operational damage. As you will remember from your studies, these panels provide power to the small thrusters that keep the ship in its geosynchronous orbit. There has been minor penetration of some of the outermost sectors of the main sphere, but these were automatically sealed off. None of those sections are now required. The doors on the cargo bay are still open, and a malfunction light is on. However, your assigned tasks take precedence. Please proceed. Oxygen remains at a normal level, but you will shortly feel the effects of the low temperature, decreasing manual dexterity. Gymnastic displays should be curtailed.”

Jaxom smothered a laugh and hoped that only he had heard Piemur’s insolent mutter about all work and no play.

Moving carefully, Jaxom ducked under Ruth’s neck and took a firm hold on the railing. To his surprise, he saw that Piemur was hovering motionless on the wide steps down to the command level of the bridge. Looking up from his circumspect movements, Jaxom, too, was transfixed by what had stunned the harper: Below them lay Pern, its blue seas glistening to port, while to starboard was visible the coastline and vivid greens, browns, and beiges of the Southern Continent.

“By the Egg, it’s just like the pictures Aivas showed us,” Piemur murmured reverently. “Magnificent!”

Unexpected tears pricked his eyes, and Jaxom swallowed hard as he viewed his world as his ancestors had once seen it at journey’s end! That must have been a triumphant moment, he thought.

“It’s big!” Piemur added, daunted by the prospect.

“It
is
a whole world,” Jaxom replied softly, trying to reorient himself to the incredible size of it.

With great majesty, the scene was imperceptibly altering as the planet swung toward the dusk line.

“Jaxom? Piemur?” Aivas recalled them to their duties.

“Just admiring the view from the bridge,” Piemur said briskly. “Seeing’s believing.” His eyes still on the wide window, he floated over to the flight of stairs and pulled himself hand over hand along the railing down to the flight deck. From there he used every available handhold to make his way to the console he was scheduled to program. At last he wrenched his gaze from the spectacular view and studied the job at hand.

“I got more red lights than I like,” he told Avias as he strapped himself into his seat.

Jaxom, making his way around the upper level to the science positions, could see the red lights on those boards, as well. He pulled himself into a seat and strapped in.

“I’ve got them, too!” he said. “But not on the telescope settings.”

“Jaxom, Piemur, key in the override commands and then go to manual.”

Jaxom’s board was immediately cleared of over half of the red dysfunction lights. Three remained, along with two orange lights. But none of those would interfere with the program he was to initiate. A quick glance told him that Piemur was already tapping away at his assigned keyboard.

Jaxom set to work, stopping now and then to flex his fingers and gaze wonderingly at the fantastic view of Pern. Nothing could detract from that spectacle, not even the comical antics of two fire-lizards cavorting in the weightlessness. Oddly enough, their excited squeakings and chitterings as Farli dared Trig to more and more outrageous maneuvers helped dispel the unreality of this bizarre environment.

Once Jaxom began to concentrate on setting the program for the telescopes, Ruth released his tail anchor and drifted with great dignity toward the wide bridge windows, where he could indulge his fascination in Pern and the starlit blackness. The fire-lizards continued their chittering conversation.