Dragonseye (3 page)

“Not where it matters,” Zulaya said.

“I hope so. Ah, and here’s food to soak up all this lovely stuff before we’re too muddled to keep our wits about us this evening.”

Zulaya waved at the wine cooler. “I doubt there’s more than two glasses apiece, scarcely enough to muddle us, though it’s lovely stuff.” And she sipped judiciously. “Hegmon is generous but not overly so. And here’s our dinner . . .”

She sat back as a swarm of men and women in Fort colors began to distribute platters of steaming food among the tables. And bottles of red wine.

“You spoke too soon about muddling,
Zuli,
” K’vin said, grinning as he served her roast slices from the platter before passing it around the table.

They had finished their meal and all the wine before Paulin rose from his table and signaled those in the Upper Court to follow him into the Hold for the meeting. Dancing was well under way in the square and the music made a cheerful processional.

K’vin hoped the musicians would still be playing when the meeting ended. Despite the height of her, Zulaya was so light on her feet she was a pleasure to partner, and because he was so tall, she preferred him as hers. And a full orchestra of professionals was far more entertaining than the half-trained, if enthusiastic players currently in the Weyr. Different music, too.

“Ah,” said Zulaya appreciatively as they filed into Fort’s Great Hall, “they’ve done a great job of freshening the murals.”

“Hmmm,” K’vin agreed, craning his neck around and impeding Chalkin’s entrance into the Hall. “Sorry.”

“Humph,” was Chalkin’s response, and he glared sourly at Zulaya as he passed, shrugging his garments away from touching them.

“Consider the source,” K’vin said when he thought Zulaya might fire a tart comment after the Lord Holder.

“I want to be at Bitra when the first Fall hits his hold,” she said.

“Isn’t he lucky, then, not to be beholden to us, but to Benden?” K’vin said wryly.

“Indeed,” said Zulaya, and allowed herself to be guided to Telgar Weyr’s usual seat at the big conference table. “I wonder did anyone get any sleep in this hold the past week,” she said, stroking the banner of Telgar’s colors, which clothed their portion of the table. “Makes such a nice display,” she murmured as she pulled out the chair which also sported Telgar’s white field and black grain design.

The table itself was made up of many smaller units hooked together, forming a multifaceted circle: Telgar’s Weyr and hold leaders were between High Reaches and Tillek since they were the northernmost settlements. Across from them were Ista Weyr and Hold, and Keroon Hold, with their brilliant sun-colors. Benden Weyr was seated with Bitra on one side and Nerat and Benden on the other. The Chief Engineer, the Senior Medic, and the Headmaster were also included in the meeting. Fort, traditionally the senior hold, with Ruathà and Southern Boll on either side, was at table center, and this time was the “Chair.”

“Now, if any of us still have our heads after Hegmon’s fine new wine, let’s get this over with so we can get in some dancing,” said Paulin, smiling around the table.

Chalkin banged the table in front of him with a very loud “Hear, hear!”

K’vin stifled a groan. The man was half drunk, if not all drunk, his face flushed red.

“I’m sure we’re all aware of the imminence of Threadfall—”

Chalkin made a rude noise.

“Look, Lord Chalkin,” Paulin said, scowling at the dissident, “if you managed to get too much of the champagne inside your skin, you can be excused.”

“No, that’s exactly what he wants,” said M’shall, Benden’s Weyrleader, quickly. “Then he can claim anything decided today was done behind his back.”

“If he can’t shut up, we can always hold his head under the tap until he sobers enough to remember common courtesy,” put in Irene, Benden’s weyrwoman. “He doesn’t like getting his Gather clothes wet.” Her expression suggested she’d had experience enough to know.

“Chalkin!” Paulin said, his voice steely.

“Oh, all right,” the Bitran said in a surly tone, and he settled himself more squarely in his chair, leaning forward on his elbows at the table. “If you’re going to be that way . . .”

“Only because you are,” snapped Irene. Paulin gave her a stern look and she subsided, though she kept narrowed eyes on Chalkin for a while longer.

“Three independent calculations were made, and there’s no doubt that the Red Planet is getting closer . . . spatially speaking.”

“Is there any chance of a collision?” asked Jamson of High Reaches.

“Fragit, Jamson,” Paulin said, “let’s not bring that up.”

“Why not?” Chalkin said, brightening.

“Because that . . . Improbability . . . has already been discussed to the point of nausea,” Paulin said. “There isn’t a hint in any of the information collected by our forefathers to indicate there is any chance of a collision between the two planets. Or that they considered the . . . Improbability . . . for any reason.”

“Yes, but does it say anywhere that there
can’t
be?” Chalkin was obviously delighted with this possibility.

“Absolutely not,” Paulin said simultaneously with Clisser, who was not only the College Head but the senior of the trained astronomers. Paulin gestured for Clisser to continue.

“Captains Keroon and Tillek,” and he paused in reverence, “both annotated the Aivas report, which included data from the
Yokohama’s
records. I have repeatedly reworked the relevant equations, and the rogue planet will Pass Pern on an elliptical orbit that
cannot
alter to a coffision course with us. A matter of celestial mechanics and Rukbat’s gravitational pull. I’d’ve brought the diagram of the orbits involved if I’d had forewarning.” Clisser gave Chalkin a disgusted glare.

“Bad enough it brings in the Thread. Do you
want
to be blown to smithereens, Chalkin?” asked Kalvi, chief of the mechanical engineers. “And I checked the maths, too, so I concur with Clisser and everyone else who’s done the equations. Why don’t you, if you’re so worried?”

Chalkin ignored the jibe since he had never been noted for scholarship in any field. He was also well pleased with the reaction to his remark. No matter what they said, there was no proof that they were really that safe.

“Now, calculations indicate early spring will bring the first Threadfall of this Pass. There are several falls that could be live, depending on the weather conditions, mainly the ambient temperature, at the time of Fall.” Paulin reached under his table then and hauled up a board on which Threadfall areas had been meticulously delineated. S’nan cleared his throat, moving restlessly, as if he felt Paulin should not have usurped a Fort prerogative. “The first two will be in Fort Weyr’s patrol area, the second two in High Reaches’, and the third two in Benden’s. These are due to occur in the first two weeks, about three days apart. The second Fall in Fort territory and the first one in High Reaches happen on the same day—different flows of the same Fall. Also, we know from the records that there will be live falls over the Southern Continent for about a week before they commence here in the North. S’nan,” and Paulin turned to the Fort Weyrleader, “may we have your progress report?”

S’nan stood, holding up his ubiquitous clipboard. (Rumor had it that that item had been passed down from the Connell himself.) He peered down at it a moment. The oldest Leader of the premier Weyr on Pern resembled his several-times-great-grandfather, though his silvery hair was more sandy than red. Privately, K’vin didn’t think Sean Connell had been such a martinet, even if he had promulgated the rules by which the Weyrs governed themselves. Most of these were common-sensible, despite S’nan managing to pursue them into the ridiculous.

“The First Fall,” S’nan began, and there was a touch of pride in his voice, “will start over the sea east of Fort Hold and come ashore at the mouth of the river, passing diagonally across the peninsula and out into the sea in the west. The second two falls, which will occur three days later, will be over the southern tip of Southern Boll.” He used his stylus and, at his most condescending, touched Paulin’s chart. “This one may go south far enough to miss land entirely, and in any case will be over land for only a short while—and over the western tip of High Reaches, again proceeding out to sea, and so over land for only a short time. The third Fall will start on the south coast of the Tillek peninsula, east of the site of the hold, and proceed out to sea, again over land only for a short time.”

“Thread giving us all a chance to get accustomed to fighting it?” asked B’nurnn of Igen.

“Your levity is ill-placed,” S’nan said, but there were too many grins around the table for his reprimand to affect the irrepressible young Weyrleader. S’nan cleared his throat and launched once more into his discourse. “The next two falls will be the most dangerous for unseasoned wings,” and he shot a stern glance at B’nurnn as he found the proper Thread path. “The first will start over the sea in the east and proceed over Benden Weyr and Bitra Hold, ending almost at Igen Weyr. This would normally be flown jointly by Benden and Igen Weyrs. The second will start at the northern end of the Nerat peninsula and proceed across it, over the east coast of Keroon and the east tip of Igen, and end just offshore from Igen. This also would normally be a joint Fall, flown by Ben-den over Nerat, Igen over the northern part of Keroon, and Ista over the southern part of Keroon . . .”

“We really do know what falls we fly, S’nan,” M’shall said.

“Yes, yes, of course,” and S’nan cleared his throat again. “However,” and his glance went to the Lord Holders seated around the table, “it was decided at the last meeting of the Weyrleaders that, since any of these would be the first Fall in our experience, every Weyr would supply a double-wing at the initial engagement. Thus each Weyr would have firsthand experience.”

“I still think we could all get
that
by hitting those first southern falls,” B’nurrin began. “If the dragons miss, it’s not going to fall on anyone’s head or ruin any farmland.”

“B’nurrin!” M’shall said sternly before the startled S’nan could open his mouth.

K’vin privately thought B’nurrin had a good idea and had backed him, but they were overruled by the older Weyrleaders. K’vin suspected that if he were to take some wings down south for that first Fall there, he’d be likely to find B’nurrin “practicing” there, too.

“I still think it’s a good idea,” the Istan said, shrugging. Pretending such an interruption hadn’t even occurred, S’nan went on. “As was customary in the First Pass, Lord Holders will supply adequate groundcrews and have them assembled as directed by the Weyrleaders. In this case, Weyrleader M’shall.” He inclined slightly toward the Benden bronze rider. “Master Kalvi,” and he bowed courteously to the head engineer, “has assured me that his foundry has turned out sufficient HNO
₃
cylinders to equip the groundcrews but the HNO
₃
must be made up on site. As in the First Pass, the labor and material are supplied by the engineer corps as part of their public duty. You all should have received your full allotment of tanks by Year’s End.” S’nan, as always, was precise in his language, scorning the new word “Turn,” which the younger generation had begun to use instead of “year.”

Kalvi rose to his feet. “I’ve scheduled every major hold with three days of training in the maintenance and repair of the flamethrowers and a practice session, which, I think,” and Kalvi grinned, “you will find comprehensive as well as interesting.” He shifted his stance and. would have gone on but S’nan held up his hand and gestured Kallvi to sit.

With a bit of a snort and a grin, Kalvi complied.

Now the Fort Weyrleader turned his glance to Corey. “I believe you also plan a three-day seminar to instruct major and minor hold personnel in burn control and Thread . . . ah . . . first aid.”

Corey did not rise but nodded.

“Lord Holders must assign suitable medics with every ground control unit, or have one member of each trained in first aid and supplied with kits containing numbweed, fellis juice, and other first-aid medications.

“Now,” and he flipped over the top sheet, “I have done pre-Pass inspections of all Weyrs and find them well up to strength, with sufficient cadet riders to supply the wings with phosphine rock during the Pass. I have discussed all aspects of flight tactics and Weyr maintenance with the respective Weyrleaders . . .”

K’vin writhed a bit on his chair, remembering the exhaustive inspection carried out by S’nan and Sarai: they’d even inspected the recycling plant! Then he noticed that G’don, the oldest Weyrleader, was also squirming. So, the Fort pair had spared no one in their officious search for perfection. Well, they
were
heading into a Pass, and the Fort Weyrleaders were correct to want every aspect of dragon-riding at the highest possible standard and readiness. In the propagation of dragons, the pair had found no fault with Telgar Weyr: it had had the largest clutches of all the Weyrs in the last three years as the dragons themselves answered the tide of preparations for the coming struggle. K’vin was hoping that Charanth’s first clutch would be larger than any that B’ner’s Miginth had sired: maybe then Zulaya would warm to him. The two junior queens had done well in their latest clutches, producing more of the useful greens and blues. Telgar Weyr would soon be full! They might have to shift out some of the excess population to other Weyrs, but that could wait until the yearly review.

“And, in conclusion, let me state that we are as ready as we can be.”

“Far more ready than the First Riders were,” G’don remarked in his dry fashion.

“Indeed,” said Irene of Benden.

K’vin contented himself with a smile. Unbidden, a little wiggle of fear shot up from his belly to chill him. He gave himself a shake. He came from a Blood that had produced First Riders and contributed many sons and daughters to the Weyrs.

And you ride me,
Charanth said firmly.
I shall be formidable in the air. Thread will fly in the other direction when it sees my flame.
And that was not all draconic boast, for Charanth had racked up the Weyr record for the length he achieved in flaming practice.
Together we meet Thread, not just you on your own. I shall be with you and we shall overcome.