All the Weyrs of Pern (39 page)

“Meer and Talla have their orders,” Sharra said resolutely.

“What about Ruth?” Lessa demanded, and was silenced by a cacophony of bugling from the massed dragons at Landing. She blinked in surprise at their belligerence. “And, it would appear, every other dragon on Pern!” Then she leaned across to lay her hand on Sharra’s arm. “We’re alert to the danger now.” She swung her glance to Jaxom and radiated rebuke. “We should have known much earlier, young man!”

“I have not been in danger,” Jaxom protested. “I have been very careful.”

“You would be wise to increase personal vigilance, Jaxom. Also, proper security measures must be promptly inaugurated to prevent further vandalism in every Crafthall that has undertaken to do specialized work,” Aivas said sternly. “The recent destruction certainly delays the completion of useful equipment, but the vandals were, fortunately, not aware of the true significance of other crucial projects: the space helmets, the oxygen tanks, and the additional space suits which are vital to the success of our endeavour.”

“All that work is divided among several Halls and different locations,” Fandarel said with an air of relief. Then he shook his head, his expression doleful. “I find it very hard to believe that some member of my Crafthall could so wantonly destroy the hard work of his colleagues.”

“Your society is a trusting one,” Aivas said, “and it is sad to see that trust betrayed.”

“It is indeed,” Fandarel agreed, his voice heavy with sadness. Then he straightened his shoulders. “We will be vigilant. F’lar, would there be any riders available for extra guard duty?”

“Watch-whers would be more effective,” Lytol said, entering the discussion for the first time. He had turned very pale, despite his southern tan, during the disclosure of Jaxom’s peril. “They would be most effective, and I am of the opinion that the Weyrs are stretched as far as they should be right now.”

“Watch-whers
and
fire-lizards,” Fandarel said. “Many of the Craftmasters involved have fire-lizards, and once they know that they are to be vigilant, they will be.”

“My brother Toric had had good luck using some feline cubs,” Sharra put in. “Of course, they have to be caged in the daytime, for they are ferocious beasts.”

“Recruit whatever guardians are necessary, but do not permit the essential manufacturing to be damaged,” Aivas ordered. “Tomorrow the dragons assigned to exercises in the
Yokohama
are to transport the fuel sacks. Master Fandarel, you will see that the sacks are emptied into the main tank. That will eliminate one security problem.”

“Would that we could remove all the vulnerable materials to the
Yokohama
!” F’lar said. “Could we?” he asked Aivas.

“Unfortunately that is impossible, for a variety of reasons. However, as soon as certain items have been completed, they should indeed be transported to the safety of the
Yokohama
.”

“Is there any guarantee that they’d be safe there?” Lytol wanted to know. He ignored those who regarded him with anger, dismay, disbelief, or anxiety as he waited for Aivas’s reassurance.

“This facility can efficiently and easily monitor the
Yokohama
as you cannot your individual Holds, Halls, and Weyrs,” Aivas replied.

“And the guardian guards himself!” Lytol added in a low voice.

“Q.E.D.,” Aivas said.

“Cue ee dee?” Piemur asked.

“That has been demonstrated.”

14

O
N THE BRIDGE
of the
Yokohama
the next afternoon, Jaxom and Piemur leaned over the engineering console.

“I know we emptied all those sacks in,” Piemur said in an aggrieved tone, “but you wouldn’t know it from the gauge.”

“Big tank,” Jaxom said, giving the dial a tap. “Drop in the bloody bucket.”

“All that work for nothing,” Piemur added, disgusted. They had had to suit up, because the fuel auxiliary intake pipe had been in a low-pressure section. The harper did not like the restrictions of a suit and the smell of tanked air. Despite weightlessness, the sacks had been awkward to manage: they could only take two at a time to the engineering level from the cargo bay where the dragons had transported them. And they were even more awkward to empty into the intake, following Aivas’s instructions on the procedure for handling fluids in free-fall.

“Not for nothing,” Aivas replied. “It is now safe from any tampering.”

“Then it was dangerous?” Piemur asked, shooting Jaxom an I-told-you-so look.

“The fuel was not flammable, but if it were spilled, there would be toxic effects. Also, soil impregnated with the fuel becomes sterile. It is wise to avoid any unnecessary problems.”

Jaxom rotated his shoulders, easing tense muscles. Sometimes working in these free-fall conditions was harder than performing a similar task on Pern.

“We have quite enough trouble as it is,” Piemur said, and then turned to Jaxom. “Klah?” He lifted the hot bottle, one of Hamian’s new contraptions: a large, thick, glass bottle, insulated by teased fibers of the same plant Bendarek was using to make paper and set inside a casing of Hamian’s new hard plastic. It kept liquid warm or cold, though some people could not understand how the bottle knew the difference. “Meatroll?” He held out several wrapped rounds.

Jaxom grinned as he sipped from the bottle, taking care not to let any droplets escape into the air. “How is it that you always seem to have the very latest thingummies?”

Piemur rolled his eyes expressively. “Aivas said it was a thermos, and harpers traditionally try new things out! And besides, I’m resident at Landing, where Hamian has his manufactory, and you’re just a runner-in, always missing the fun.”

Jaxom refused to rise to the jibe. “Thanks for the food, Piemur. I’d worked up quite an appetite.”

They had taken off their helmets and gloves upon entering the bridge and now made themselves comfortable in the console chairs. After the first edge of their hunger was allayed, Piemur gestured to Ruth, Farli, and Meer, who were plastered across the window, staring out.

“Do they see something we don’t?” he asked.

“I asked Ruth,” Jaxom said. “He says he just likes to look at Pern, all pretty laid out like that. With the clouds and the differences in light, it never looks the same twice.”

“While you are eating,” Aivas said, “this is an opportunity to explain another very important step in the training process.”

“Is that why we got the sack duty?” Piemur asked with a wink and a grin at Jaxom.

“You are as perceptive as ever, Piemur. We have a secure channel here.”

“We’re all ears,” Piemur said, then added hastily, “figuratively speaking, naturally.”

“Accurate. It is essential to learn how much time dragons can spend in space unprotected by such suits as you are now wearing.”

“I thought you’d figured that out, Aivas,” Jaxom said. “Ruth and Farli suffered no harm at all during the time they were on this bridge. They didn’t seem to notice the cold and certainly weren’t in oxygen debt.”

“They were on the bridge for precisely three and a half minutes. It is required that dragons function normally for a minimum of twelve minutes. Fifteen would be the upper time required.”

“For what?” Jaxom asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Piemur’s eyes were bright with excitement.

“The exercise is to accustom them to being in space—”

“Having already become accustomed to weightlessness?” Jaxom asked.

“Exactly.”

“So we’re at the walking stage?” Piemur asked.

“So to speak. The level of adaptability of your dragons is commendable. There have been no unfavorable reactions to the experience of free-fall.”

“Why would there be?” Jaxom asked. “It’s on a level with hovering, or being
between
, and dragons have no problem with that. So now, they’re to go extravehicular.”

“Wouldn’t they float away?” Piemur asked, casting an anxious look at Jaxom. “I mean, like the Thread eggs do?”

“Unless a violent movement was made, they would remain stationary,” Aivas said. “As they will exit from the
Yokohama
, they are moving at the same speed, not at a different velocity as the incoming Thread spheres are. However, to prevent any panic—”

“Dragons don’t panic,” Jaxom said in flat contradiction, speaking before Piemur could utter a similar rebuke.

“Their riders might,” Aivas replied.

“I doubt it,” Jaxom said.

“Perhaps dragonriders are a breed apart, Lord Jaxom,” Aivas said at his most formal, “but records of many generations indicate that some humans, despite training and reassurance, can find themselves overwhelmed by agoraphobia. Therefore, to prevent panic, the dragon should anchor itself—”

“Himself,” Jaxom automatically corrected.

“Or herself,” Piemur added, waggling a finger at the white rider.

“For the dragon to be anchored securely to the
Yokohama
,” Aivas finished.

“Lines? We can get rope or some of that strong fine cable Fandarel’s been extruding,” Piemur suggested.

“That will not be necessary, as something suitable is already available.”

“What?” Jaxom asked contritely, realizing that their banter was delaying details that they had wanted to hear for Turns.

The screen in front of them lit up, showing a graphic of the
Yokohama
profile. The display altered to a close-up of the long shaft on which the engines were fitted—and the framework of spars that had once held the extra fuel tanks in place.

“Dragons can hang on the frames!” Jaxom cried. “That would definitely offer a secure grip. And, unless I’ve misread the dimensions, those rails are as long as a Weyr Rim. Imagine, all the Weyrs of Pern, Piemur, out in space, along those girders! What a sight!”

“The only drawback to that,” Piemur said pragmatically, “is that there aren’t enough space suits for all the riders of Pern.”

“There will be sufficient space suits available when required,” Aivas informed them calmly, “though not quite all the dragons in the Weyrs of Pern will be needed. Since you are still suited, Lord Jaxom, and have taken nourishment, perhaps you and Ruth would attempt an extravehicular activity today?”

Piemur’s eyes grew wide and round as he assimilated Aivas’s astounding suggestion. “By the first Egg, it’s not the humans you’ve got to be wary of, Jaxom. It’s Aivas who’s trying to kill you!”

“Nonsense!” Jaxom replied hotly. But he had felt his stomach leap almost in time to the accelerated beat of his heart at the notion of an EVA. “Ruth?”

I’ll see a lot more from there than I can from the window
was the white dragon’s thoughtful response.

With a laugh that was only a trifle shaky, Jaxom told Piemur what Ruth had said.

The harper gave him a long incredulous look and sighed. “I don’t know which of you two is more outrageous. You’d dare anything, the pair of you would.” Then in a wry tone, he added, “And I’m supposed to be the reckless one.”

“But you aren’t a dragonrider,” Jaxom said gently.

“The dragon makes the man?” Piemur shot back.

Jaxom smiled, sending a loving look at Ruth, who was watching the two humans. “With a dragon to guide and guard you, you tend to feel secure.”

“So long as your riding straps hold” was Piemur’s quick retort. Then he shook his head. “Come to think on it, with Aivas as your mentor, you don’t need to worry about what mere men could do to you.”

“Lord Jaxom will not be in any jeopardy, Harper Piemur,” Aivas said with customary composure.

“So you say!” Then Piemur fixed Jaxom with a fierce stare. “So you’re going to do it? Without checking with anyone?”

Jaxom glared right back, anger rising. “I don’t need to check with anyone, Piemur. I’ve been making my own decisions for a long time. This time I get to make it without anyone else’s interference. Not yours, or F’lar’s, or Lessa’s, or Robinton’s.”

“Sharra’s?” Piemur cocked his head, his eye contact unswerving.

It doesn’t seem to be a hard thing Aivas asks us to do, Jaxom,
Ruth said.
It is no more dangerous than going
between,
where we have nothing to hold on to. My talons are strong. My grip will be secure for both of us.

“Ruth sees no problems. If he did, I would certainly listen to him,” Jaxom said, very much aware that Sharra would undoubtedly share Piemur’s reservations. “I don’t know why you’re upset about an EVA. I thought you’d want to be first.”

Piemur managed a flicker of a smile. “One, I don’t have a dragon to reassure me. Two, I dislike being trussed up in this thing.” He flicked his hand at the space suit. Then his expression changed to a cocky grin. “And three, it’s just likely I’m one of those humans who’d panic out there with solid earth a million dragon-lengths away from my feet. So,” he finished, rising to his feet and reaching for Jaxom’s helmet, “since I can’t talk you out of it, go and do it. Now! Before I get myself in a knot!”

Jaxom gripped his shoulder. “Don’t forget that Aivas cannot endanger human life. And we’ve seen tapes of spacemen doing EVA drills.”

So let us go.
Ruth pushed himself away from the window with just enough force to arrive by Jaxom. He peered down at Piemur’s scowling face.
Tell Piemur that I won’t let anything happen to you.

“Ruth says he won’t let anything happen to me,” Jaxom said.

With a roughness born of anxiety, Piemur adjusted Jaxom’s helmet, securing the fastenings, checking the oxytank unit, and gesturing for him to turn on the helmet’s audio.

“Keep up a running commentary, will you, Jaxom?” he asked.

“Nod if you can hear me all right.” The sound of his own voice echoing in the confines of the helmet still sounded unnatural to Jaxom.

Piemur nodded, his expression carefully blank.

“Aivas, show us where we’re going so Piemur can watch.” Jaxom gave his friend one more buffet and then, pulling first one foot and then the other free of the deck, he floated up to Ruth. Hauling himself into position, he attached his riding straps to the toggles that had been designed to hold snap-on equipment for EVA.

“You wearing the right riding harness?” Piemur asked acidly.

“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that today.”

“Bears repeating. Can you see the screen perched up there?” Piemur’s tone was even more acerbic. Jaxom wished the harper wouldn’t worry so much. But that was yet one more difference that only another rider would understand: the supreme confidence one could have in one’s dragon’s abilities. And Ruth had more than most.

“I can see it,” he said, his voice high and tinny to his ears.
D’you know where we’re going, Ruth?

Certainly. Shall we go?

Jaxom was accustomed to very short passages
between
, but this must have been the shortest they had ever taken. One moment they were on the bridge; the next, they were surrounded by a different sort of darkness. For one heartbeat, Jaxom tasted as deep a fear as he had ever known. But Ruth’s head, erect and swinging around as he surveyed the scene, was all the token of reassurance Jaxom needed. Then he became aware—unlike the total lack of sensation in
between
—of his legs pressing against Ruth’s neck and even the tug of the straps against his belt.

I won’t let go,
Ruth said as calmly as ever.
I could hang by my claws. The metal is so cold it feels hot.

Jaxom peered down over the lower edge of his helmet and saw that Ruth had, indeed, curled his talons about the spars—two different spars. Carefully the white dragon had extended his forepaw talons to grip the upper bar and had arranged his hind feet on tiptoe, one in front of the other, for a purchase on the lower one, stretching comfortably between the two levels.

I’m holding my breath, but I am in no discomfort,
Ruth continued as he gazed alertly around. His left eye was whirling ever so gently in the blue of interest. Above, Jaxom could see more horizontal spars, a longitudinal framework that circled the engines. Their mass was behind the grid, an immense rectangular boxlike structure in which the matter/antimatter drive provided propulsion for interstellar travel.

“Are you all right, Jaxom?” Aivas asked.

“Perfectly,” Jaxom replied. He would have been unwilling to give any other response, but in truth, he felt his muscles relax just a trifle even as he spoke. After all, nothing had happened.

“Ruth suffers no discomfort?”

“He says not. He’s holding his breath.”

I wish to climb higher, for a better view. There is nothing to be seen here but the engines. They are uninteresting.
Before Jaxom could forbid him, Ruth had reached for the spar above his head.

Whatever you do, Ruth, don’t let go entirely,
Jaxom said urgently.

I’d only float.

Jaxom wondered at his dragon’s nonchalance in this new and dangerous environment. But then, didn’t dragons meet danger head on everytime they flew Thread? At least there was none of that here to score the white hide or pierce a fragile wing—or his space suit.

See?
And Ruth did begin to float, rather than climb, upward. Jaxom was so surprised by his dragon’s initiative that he could think of nothing to say.
And it doesn’t matter if I float,
Ruth went on,
because all I have to do is jump
between
wherever I need to go. Is it not beautiful up here?

Jaxom had to agree. Ruth had them perched on the topmost rail, and before them, the globe of Pern glowed in brilliant greens and blues: He thought he recognized the Paradise River Hold estuary and, just at the curve of the horizon, the purple hills of Rubicon and Xanadu. Above were the stairs; behind him, shining far too brightly, was Rukbat’s blaze. He thought he caught sunlight glinting off one of the other ships—the
Bahrain
, no doubt. And far, far above him, at an impossible distance, was the Red Star and the Oort Cloud that the erratic planet would penetrate yet again in another hundred or so Turns.