All the Weyrs of Pern (23 page)

“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 harper-true 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 Clarinath waited to convey him back to Paradise River Hold.

The day before the Lord Holders Conference, the Benden Weyrleaders 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 Weyrleaders 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.

9

I
N THE SPRING
of the year, Tillek Hold was at its most attractive, for the vivid blue skies seemed to brighten the Hold’s granite cliffs and the sun often glinted off surfaces that were momentarily silver-gilt. From its position on the heights, the uppermost level of the Hold provided north and south views; on clear days, as today, one could see across the promontory to the southern coastline where the terrain fell away from the Hold height. Today banners flew from every window, brilliant panels in audacious colors bright against the gray stone.

Below the Hold, the natural deep harbor and the smaller holds and cots on the terraces that made up the large Tillek settlement were also decorated with banners, streamers, and even garlands of the various yellow blooms of spring. Ranrel’s recent labors to improve docking facilities were being put to the test. Many people had elected to sail up the western coast to attend the Conference and the festivities following the confirmation of a new Lord Holder. But so spacious was the anchorage that not even the mass of craft, small and large, strained its capacity.

To Jaxom’s surprise, Ruth came out of
between
over the harbor waters, giving him and Sharra an excellent view of the activity below them. It would appear that every small craft that could be paddled or rowed had been drafted to do lighter duty between the visitors’ ships and the new wharf. There was even a line of crafts bobbing at each landing stair waiting to discharge passengers, gay in their festival attire.

Then Jaxom appreciated why Ruth had elected to bring them out over the water, for the congestion of dragons above the Hold itself would have taxed even the white dragon’s vaunted ability to avoid collision.

“We really should have brought Jarrol and Shawan to this, Jax,” Sharra yelled in his ear. “They would have adored all the color and excitement.”

Jaxom shrugged; actually he was glad that Sharra had been dissuaded from that notion. The day was going to be full enough without his having to worry about the antics of two active and inventive little boys. And he wanted Sharra at his side without an incumbrance.

“There’ll be other investitures, love, when they’re old enough to appreciate it more,” he shouted over his shoulder.

Ruth descended, moving with more decorum than usual in order to prevent Sharra’s heavy formal skirts from billowing out.

“The unexpected perils of dragonriding,” Sharra muttered, gathering the fabric in as much as she could while Ruth circled slowly to find a place to land in the crowded forecourt. Then, continuing the conversation that they had broken off to go
between,
she added, “Am I really to go up to the
Yokohama
with you the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, indeed.” Jaxom was pleased by the excitement in her voice. “Aivas says we’ve got to have the oxygen recycling to spend our time aboard efficiently, even in the few areas we’ll be using. Putting breathable atmosphere in the cargo bay and the engine room is going to take a lot of oxygen, and we can’t keep lugging tanks up and down. You and Mirrim will do just fine setting it up. You know the programs, and the instructions for starting the algae by heart. I heard you muttering the steps in your sleep.” He grinned back at her, thrilled that he would have a chance to share with her the incredible experience of viewing Pern from space and happy for her to have a part in the project that absorbed him almost, he admitted with private candor, to the exclusion of everything else. “Besides, Aivas says the whole program is foolproof but we need the computer-controlled porous-technology Co
₂
/0
₂
to supply sufficient oxygen. The system just wants starting and then regular checks. Once you and Mirrim understand the system, you’ll teach other green riders. And with Path and Mirrim, and you and Ruth, there’ll be proper control on the system. Meanwhile, the greens’ll be hauling oxygen in tanks to tide us over until the system’s fully operational again.”

“Ruth would take anyone you asked him to,” she reminded him. She wanted more than anything to be the one to join her mate on the
Yokohama
, but she was also very much aware that the mission could be dangerous. After all, she had two children to think of now, not just herself.

But I like taking you better, Sharra,
Ruth put in.
Maynooth says it’s my turn in the forecourt, but you’re to dismount as quickly as you can,
he added.
Maynooth’s rider is terrified of having a collision while he’s on duty.
Ruth added a contemptuous snort for that possibility.

Jaxom helped Sharra unclip the riding straps and dismount, careful to keep the full skirts of her brand-new gown from becoming entangled in the harness or getting excessively rumpled. The color was an amazingly vibrant blend of green and blue, and the fabric was cut to a pattern that had been found by Masterweaver Zurg in Aivas’s files. Jaxom, stunned anew by her subtle beauty, was torn between pride in his beloved and anxiety that others might monopolize her when the dancing began. With a smile, he helped her shrug out of the equally fetching jacket, its leather dyed a slightly darker shade than her dress, its fur lining too warm to wear in Tillek’s sun. Then he offered his lady his arm, leaving Ruth free to find himself a spot on the sun-warmed heights, and the tall, handsome couple made their way across the crowded forecourt to the Hold entrance, smiling and nodding at friends and acquaintances.

Sharra chuckled softly. “I see that everyone who could afford it has been spilling marks into the Weavercraft coffers.”

“I thought Master Zurg looked excessively smug when we passed him.”

“He should be. Everyone, including that wretched dandy Blesserel, is wearing new clothes, either tailored by or made from fabrics bought from good Master Zurg. Except you.” Sharra said that with a sniff of disapproval. “It wouldn’t have taken much time to have a new outfit for today.”

“Why? I’m not exactly threadbare or colorless,” Jaxom replied. He was fond of the deep brown and russet he wore; he thought those colors went well with Sharra’s azure. “And these clothes aren’t all that old. They were new for our last Gather day.”

Sharra sniffed again. “Half a Turn ago. You don’t care what you wear so long as it’s comfortable. Just look at the variety of style and hue others are wearing.”

Jaxom closed his right hand over hers on his arm and gave it a squeeze. “You look grand enough for both of us.”

Sharra gave him a droll sideways glance. “If you’d ever taken the time to be fitted for what I wanted you to wear, we’d outshine everyone else, love.” She gave a resigned sigh. “As it is, it’s just too bad the Craftmasters can’t vote on the succession.”

“They should, you know,” Jaxom replied. “They’re as vital to the smooth management of Pern as any Lord Holder.”

“Sshhh,” Sharra said, though her eyes twinkled at his heresy. “You upset sufficient Lord Holders without suggesting
that
innovation.”

“It’ll come! It’ll come,” Jaxom said. “Once the conservative element among the Holders are replaced.”

“What if Ranrel doesn’t make it? Brand did say that there would be protest over his use of the ‘Abomination’s’ materials.”

Jaxom snorted. “With bloody near everyone else wearing them? Besides, Ranrel’s the only one of Oterel’s issue who’s ever worked. And he’s improved the Hold’s facilities. That has to count heavily in his favor.”

“Yes, but he’s also a journeyman, which men like Nessel and Corman take as an admission that he himself knows he’s not Holder material.”

“And Blesserel and Terentel, with their soft hands and steep debts, are? A journeyman’s knot in the Fisherman’s Craft at least says a man has skill, strength, and endurance. And he’s had more of managing
men
than either of that useless pair,” Jaxom said.

“Brand mentioned that Blesserel’s been actively striving to get support from Corman of Keroon, Sangel, and Begamon— and even went to see Toric.”

“Well, if he’s promised to help Toric with Denol’s island rebels, he’ll be working against himself,” Jaxom said scornfully.

“I don’t know about that, Jax, I really don’t,” Sharra said, frowning slightly. “My brother’s devious, as well as plain contrary at times.” Then she smiled as she saw Toronas and his wife heading in their direction.

“Four votes wouldn’t be enough anyway,” Jaxom murmured with a reassurance he didn’t really believe before the young Benden Holders joined them.

Robinton had wanted to arrive early at Tillek, to have a stroll around and get the feel of the assemblage. Somehow or other, Lytol had managed to delay their departure so that T’gellan deposited them only just before the actual Conference was due to start. Lytol secured him an oversized goblet of Benden white and insisted that he be seated on one of the few wall benches on the forecourt “for an overall view.” Granted he had that, but he would have preferred to mingle with the crowd and sense the general mood.

“You’re fussing over me, Lytol!” Robinton said querulously.

“You’ll have enough excitement . . .”

“There are people I wish to speak with down there!”

“You can’t alter the outcome of today’s proceedings a half hour before they start, Robinton,” Lytol replied.

“But you can!” Robinton knew that he was being testy with his old friend, and jealous.

“I will do as common sense dictates, Harper, and when that will be most effective.” Lytol caught sight of Blesserel, Oterel’s firstborn son, clad in uncharacteristically sober dark colors in a conservatively cut outfit. “As if that garb is going to counteract his years as a gaudy guy!” Lytol muttered contemptuously.

“I don’t see Ranrel,” Robinton complained.

“To your left, on the third riser, speaking to Sigomal,” Lytol said, pointing.

“Well, good for him. He’s not afraid to parade his accomplishments,” Robinton said after a moment’s regard. The youngest of Oterel’s eligible sons had dressed in Fishcraft colors and wore his journeyman’s knot fastened to his Tillek rank cord. “Ista and High Reaches will appreciate the compliment. And Master Idarolan.”

“For all the good it does.”

“Now, if only Craftmasters were allowed in on the voting . . .” Robinton said, half to tease Lytol and half in wishful thinking. Lytol merely grunted, a surprising reaction since, in previous times, he had been dead set against such an innovation. Was Jaxom having some effect on his former guardian after all? Robinton wondered.

“Idarolan’s a sound man and manages to keep most of a very wayward lot in line—most of the time,” Lytol said. “But inlanders would not be swayed by his opinions.”

“Sangel of Boll is scarcely an islander,” Robinton protested.

“That doesn’t mean he thinks with his wits,” Lytol replied. “And it’s the undecided Holders that must be swayed one way or another: Sigomal, Nessel, and Deckter.”

“Deckter will appreciate Ranrel’s harbor reconstruction. He’s got a merchant’s mind on such matters. Blesserel and Terentel have done nothing to improve Tillek Hold.”

“Sigomal will side with Blesserel, if only to recoup the boy’s gambling losses. You know the way Bitra always turns: mark-ward.”

The Hold bugler appeared at the massive entrance and blew the ten-minute warning. The babble of the crowd briefly abated, then increased with excitement as the fifteen Lord Holders began to make their way toward the steps. Lytol watched for Jaxom, Sharra on his arm, to emerge from the throng and unobtrusively beckoned him over. Jaxom’s face lit with a big smile as he saw the Harper beside his former warder.

“My dear Lady Holder, you outshine the day,” Robinton said, rising to take Sharra’s hand warmly in his. “Has everyone here made Zurg markedly richer today?”

Sharra laughed at his outrageous compliment. Though she was a tall girl, she had to stand on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Even Master Norist,” she whispered in his ear, giggling as she indicated with a nod of her head where the Glassmaster could be seen in the crowd, resplendent in red and yellow. “Did anyone have the nerve to tell him how much Zurg’s Craft has been enhanced by the ‘Abomination’s’ data?”

Robinton let out a bellow of laughter, beginning to let go of his annoyance with Lytol.

Sharra took an admiring pinch of his gracefully belled deep blue sleeve. “I see you endured the fittings and pinnings, too.”

“I was excused them,” Robinton said loftily. “Master Zurg has had my measurements all these years and presented me these glad rags as a token of his Hall’s appreciation for time well spent with Aivas.”

Sharra affected a shocked expression. “And here I thought you were Pern’s most honest man.”

“Not even Lytol is.” Robinton gestured at the former Ruathan Warder’s back, for Lytol was just entering Tillek’s Great Hall with Jaxom. “But then Lytol, as a former weaver, has always been particular in matters of dress.”

“I wish he’d managed to install that particularity in Jaxom.” Sharra sniffed. “I’d chosen such a beautiful fabric, one of the new brocades in marvelous dark blue-green, and he never managed a single fitting.”

“I fear he fit in other things,” Robinton replied, unable to forgo the wordplay.

“Oh, you!” Sharra rolled her eyes dramatically, laughing.

A singularly lovely ripple of laughter, Robinton thought, grinning back at her. Zair, perched on the Harper’s shoulder, chirped agreement.

Just then the Tillek steward pulled shut the great Hold doors with a finality that echoed across the forecourt. The Harper and Sharra were close enough to hear the clang as the lock was spun shut. Conversation was momentarily stilled, and the kitchen doors opened. Drudges streamed out, carrying trays of klah, chilled fruit juices, and finger foods to ease the tedium of awaiting the decision.

The clang signaled the Lord Holders within the Great Hall to take their places at the round table. Before them, their places were set with fine glassware and small pitchers of klah, wine beakers, and bowls of succulent fruits.

The night before, Jaxom had been present at a special meeting—the subject of which had been himself—that included the Benden Weyrleaders, Lytol, Master Robinton, D’ram, and Sebell. He was the youngest Lord Holder, and while he was as capable as any of the much older men, perhaps more so than some, many had not yet forgiven his age.