Dragonsdawn (43 page)

“Why did Marco panic?” Tarrie Chernoff asked plaintively. “I’d give anything to know,” Sean said, the edge of anguish returning to his voice. “One thing I do know. From now on, no rider takes off without checking what’s in his immediate airspace. We must fly defensively, trying to spot possible dangers. Caution,” he said, stabbing his index finger into his temple, “should be engraved on our eyeballs.” He spoke rapidly, his tone crisp. “We know that the fire-lizards do go wherever it is they, go, between one place and another, so let’s stop taking that talent of theirs for granted and watch exactly what they do. Let’s scrutinize their comings and goings. Let’s send them to specific places, places they haven’t been before, to see if they can follow our mental directions. Our dragons hear us telepathically. They understand exactly what we’re saying—not like the fire-lizards—so if we get used to giving precise messages to the fire-lizards, the dragons ought to be able to operate on the same sort of mental directions. When we understand as much of fire-lizard behavior as we can, then we will attempt to direct our dragons.”

The other riders murmured among themselves, Sean watching them with narrowed darting glances.

“Wouldn’t that risk our dragonets?” Tarrie asked, stroking the little gold that had nestled in the crook of her arm.

“Better the dragonets than the dragons!” Peter Semling said firmly.

Sean gave a derisive snort. “The fire-lizards’re very good at taking care of themselves. Don’t misunderstand me—” He held up a hand against Tarrie’s immediate protest. “I appreciate them. They’ve been great little fighters. Jays, we’d never have fed the hatchlings without their help, but—” He paused to look around the circle. “—they have got a well-developed survival mechanism or they wouldn’t have lasted through the first pass of that Oort cloud. Whenever that was. As Peter said, it’s a lot safer to experiment with the fire-lizards than another dragonpair.”

“You’ve made some very good points there, Sean,” Pol said, beginning to take heart himself, “though I trust you mean to use the gold and bronze fire-dragonets. They have always seemed more reliable to Bay and myself.”

“I had. Especially since the blues and greens all scarpered off after the eruption.”

“I’m game to try,” Dave Catarel said, throwing his shoulders back and straightening up, sending a challenging look to the others. “We’ve got to try something. Cautiously!” He shot Sean a quick glance.

A slow smile broke across Sean’s face as he reached across the fire to grasp Dave’s hand.

“I’m willing, too,” Peter Semling said. Nora tentatively agreed.

“It sounds eminently sensible to me,” Otto said, nodding vigorously and looking at him. “It is, after all, what the dragons were bred to do, escape from the danger of Threadfall as the mechanical sleds cannot.”

“Thanks, Otto,” Sean said. “We all need to think positively.”

“And cautiously,” Otto amended, raising one finger in warning.

Stirred from their apathy, the riders began murmuring to one another.

“Do you remember, Sorka,” Bay said, leaning toward her urgently, “when I sent Mariah to you the day we were called to Calusa?”

“She brought me your message.”

“She did indeed, but all I told her was to find the redhead by the caves.” Bay paused significantly. “Of course, Mariah has known you all her life and there aren’t
that
many redheads in Landing, or on the planet.” Bay knew she was babbling, which was something she rarely did, but then she rarely broke down in tears, either, and when she had heard the dreadful news, she had cried for nearly an hour, despite Pol’s comforting. As Pol had said, it had been like losing family. Without a terminal to consult for possible solutions, they had spent two frantic hours searching for the crate in which they had packed all their written notes of the dragon program, wanting to have some positive suggestion with which to comfort the young people. “But Mariah did find you with no trouble that day, and you were at our house in minutes. So it can’t have taken her very long to do it.”

“No, it didn’t,” Sorka said thoughtfully. She looked around the circle of fire-lit faces. “Think of how many times we told the dragonets to get us fish for the hatchlings.”

“Fish are fish,” Peter Semling remarked, absently prodding the sand with a branch.

“Yes, but the dragonets knew which ones the dragons like best,” Kathy Duff said. “And it takes them no time at all from the moment we issue the command. They just wink out and a couple of breaths later they’re back with a packtail.”

“A couple of breaths,” Sean repeated, looking out to the darkness, his stare fixed. “It took more than a couple of breaths for any of our dragons to realize that . . . Marco and Duluth were not coming back. Can we infer from that that it also only takes a couple of breaths for dragons to teleport?”

“Cautiously . . .” Otto held up his finger again.

“Right,” Sean went on briskly, “this is what we do tomorrow morning at first light.” He reached over and took Peter’s stick, and drew a ragged coastline in the sand. “The governor wants us to ferry stuff out of Landing. Dave, Kathy, Tarrie, you’ve all got gold fire-lizards. You make the first run. When you get to the tower, send your fire-lizards back here to me and Sorka. Bay, do you and Pol have to be anywhere else tomorrow?”

Bay gave a derisory sniff. “The pair of us are useless until we get our systems going again at Fort Hold. And we have to wait for transport. We’d be delighted to help you, any way we can!”

“We’ll time the fire-lizards. Only, we’ve got to have handsets to do it on the mark.”

“Let me scrounge those,” Pol offered.

Sean grinned with real humor. “I was hoping you’d volunteer. Lilienkamp wouldn’t deny you, would he?”

Pol shook his head emphatically, feeling much better than he had all afternoon, vainly searching for mislaid documentation during the nadir of his grieving.

“Well then, Bay and I will leave you now,” Pol said, rising and giving her a helpful hand to her feet. “To scrounge handsets. How many? Ten? We’ll meet you here at dawn, then, with handsets.” He made a bow to the others, noting that only Bay understood his whimsy. “Yes, at dawn, we’ll begin our scientific observations.”

“Let’s all get some sleep, riders,” Sean said. He began to scoop sand over the dying flames.

With a handset to his ear, Pol dropped his finger as Bay, Sean, and Sorka set the mark on their wrist timers. Keeping index fingers hovering over the stop pin, they all looked up toward the eastern sky, Bay squinting against the sunglare from the smooth sea.

“Now!” Four voices spoke and four fingers moved as a dragonet erupted into the air over their heads, chirping ecstatically.

“Eight seconds again,” Pol exclaimed happily.

“Come, Kundi,” Sorka said, holding up her arm as a landing spot. Dave Catarel’s bronze cheeped, cocking his head as if considering her invitation, but he veered away as Duke, Sorka’s bronze, warned him off. “Don’t be ugly, Duke.”

“Eight seconds,” Sean said admiringly. “That’s all it takes them to travel fifty-odd klicks.”

“I wonder,” Pol mused, tapping his stylus on the clipboard with its encouraging column of figures. “The figure doesn’t vary no matter who we send which direction. How long would it take them to go to say, Seminole or Fort Hold in the north?” He looked with bright inquiry at the others.

Sean began to shake his head dubiously, but Sorka was more enthusiastic.

“My brother, Brian, is working at the fort. Duke knows him as well as he knows me. And I’ve seen plenty of fax of the place. He’d go to Brian.” As if understanding that he was being discussed, Duke circled in to land on Sorka’s shoulder. She laughed. “See, he’s game!”

“He may come when he’s called,” Sean said, “but will he -go where he’s sent? Landing’s one thing—they all know it well.”

“We can only try and see,” Pol remarked firmly. “And this is a good hour to reach Brian at Fort Hold.” He punched the comm unit. “What a boon that the tower’s functional. Ah, yes, Pol Nietro speaking. I need an urgent word with Brian Hanrahan . . . I said urgent! This is Pol Nietro. Get him for me! Idiots,” he murmured in an aside. “Is this call important?”

Brian was found and was surprised to hear from his sister. “Look, what’s this all about? You don’t just scream priority around here. I can assure you that Mother’s taking good care of Mick. She dotes on him.”

His slightly aggrieved voice was clear to the others, and Sorka was taken aback by his uncooperative response. Sean took the handset from her.

“Brian, Sean here. Marco Galliani and his dragon Duluth died yesterday in an unfortunate accident. We’re trying to prevent a recurrence. We’re only asking for a few minutes of your time. And this is a priority.”

“Marco and Duluth?” Brian’s tone was chastened. “Jays, we hadn’t heard anything. I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“Are you outside? Someplace where you can be easily spotted from the air?”

“Yes, I am. Why?”

“Then tell Sorka exactly where you are. I’m handing you over to her.”

“Hell and damnation, Sorka, I’m sorry I dumped on you. So I’m outside. Have you seen the recent fax? Well, I’m approximately twenty meters from the new ramp. At the vet caves. They finally carved us some more headroom, and there’s a huge pile of rock about a meter from me and nearly as high. What do I do now?”

“Just stand there. I’m sending Duke to you. When I say ‘mark,’ set your timer.”

“Come on, now, sis,” he began in patent disbelief, “you’re in Kahrain Cove, aren’t you?”

“Brian! For once in your life, don’t argue with me.”

“All right. I’m ready to mark the time.” He still sounded aggrieved.

Sorka held her arm high, ready to pitch Duke into the air. “Go to Brian, Duke. He’s at the new place! Here!” She screwed her eyes shut and concentrated on an image of Brian standing on the site he had described. “Go, Duke.”

With a startled squawk, Duke launched himself into the air and vanished.

“
Mark!
” Sorka cried.

“Hey, I can hear you loud and clear, sister. You don’t need to roar. I don’t know what good this is going to do. You can’t imagine for one minute that a fire-dragonet could possibly—Jays!” Brian’s voice in her ear faded into astonishment. “I don’t bloody believe it. Shit. I forgot to mark time.”

“That’s all right,” Sorka said, nodding her head with delight, “we used your ‘jays’ to mark!”

Pol was jumping up and down, holding his wrist chrono and shouting, “Eight seconds! Eight seconds!”

He grabbed Bay by the waist and danced around her. Sean lifted Sorka from her feet and kissed her soundly while Mariah and Blazer led an augmented fair of fluting fire-dragonets in a dizzy aerial display.

“Eight seconds to the fort, only eight seconds,” Pol gasped, reeling to a standstill, Bay clinging to him.

“That doesn’t make much sense, does it?” Bay said, panting, one hand on her heaving chest. “The same time to go fifty klicks or nearly three thousand.”

“Hey, Sorka,” came Brian’s plaintive voice. She put the handset to her ear again, mopping the sweat off her forehead against her sleeve. “I really gotta go, only what am I supposed to do with Duke now you’ve got him here?”

“Tell him to come back to me. And give us the mark when he disappears.”

“Sure, right. On the mark, now . . . Duke, find Sorka! Sorka! Find—he’s gone. Shit! Mark!”

On the beach at Kahrain Cove, four fingers pressed sweep hands, four pairs of eyes turned westward to the hot afternoon skies, and four voices counted the seconds.

“Six . . . seven . . . eight . . . He did it!”

Their elation had new confidence as Duke, cheeping happily, settled back to Sorka’s shoulder and rubbed a cold muzzle against her cheek.

“Well, this has been most satisfying and productive,” Bay said, beaming broadly.

“Report it to Emily, will you, Bay?” Sean asked, tucking his hand under Sorka’s elbows. “We’d better go do our share of the donk work today.”

“So the Galliani boy’s death proved to be a catalyst?” Paul Benden asked Emily as they conferred that evening by comm unit.

“Pol and Bay are much encouraged,” Emily replied, still unaccountably saddened by the tragedy. She was tired, she knew, and while she spoke to Paul, hoping for the consolation of any sort of good news from the northern continent, half her mind was still on things that had to be organized.

“Telgar’s group has made a tremendous effort, Em. The quarters are magnificent. You wouldn’t know you were twenty or thirty feet in solid rock. Cobber and Ozzie have penetrated several hundred feet down on seven tunnels. There’s even an eyrie for Ongola’s communications equipment, cut high up in the cliff face. This place is big enough to house the entire population of Landing.”

“Not everyone wants to live in a hole in the ground, Paul.” Emily spoke for herself.

“There are quite a few ground-level caverns, immediate access,” he replied soothingly. “You wait. You’ll see. And when are you coming over? I’ve got to put in an appearance at the next Fall or they’ll fire me.”

“Don’t you wish it!”

“Emily.” Paul’s flippant tone turned serious. “Let Ezra take over from you. He and Jim can liaise on shipments. Others can handle transportation and sled and skimmer maintenance. Pierre should be here to supervise the catering arrangements. He’s got the biggest kitchen unit on Pern.”

“That would be a welcome change from the largest single barbecue pit! It’s the dragons that I worry about, Paul.”

“I think they have to sort it out themselves, Emily. From what you reported, I believe they will.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she replied fervently, heartened by the absolute confidence in his voice. “I’ll reserve a seat on the evening sled tomorrow.”

After the excitement of sending Duke north, directing fire-dragonets back and forth between Kahrain and Landing was anticlimactic, but it helped to pass the tedium of the long journey. On the way back, Sean had the dragonriders practice flying in both close and loose formations and, more importantly, learning how to identify and benefit from the helpful airstreams.

Their campfire that night was bigger, and Pol and Bay slipped into its light to discuss observations about the fire-dragonets and how to apply them to the dragons. There had been no real need for Sean to promote caution as a byword: Marco and Duluth were still very much in everyone’s mind. To counter any morbidity, Sean suggested that they get more formation practice the next day, practice that would stand them in good stead during Threadfall.