Dragonseye (4 page)

Thanks, Charrie.

You’re welcome, Key.

“You’ve got that look in your eye, K’vin,” Zulaya murmured for his ear alone. “What’s Charanth’s opinion of all this?”

“He’s raring to go,” K’vin whispered back, and grinned.

Charanth was right to remind him that he did not fly alone. They were together, as they had been from the moment the bronze had broken his shell in half and stepped directly toward a fourteen-year-old K’vin of the Hanrahans waiting on the hot sands of the Hatching Ground. And K’vin had realized that that was the moment all his life had been aimed at: Impression. He’d seen his older brother Impress, and his second oldest sister, and three of the four cousins currently riders. From the moment he was Searched out, part of him had been sure-sure-sure, with all the fervor of an adolescent, that he would Impress favorably. The negative side of his personality had perversely suggested that he’d be left standing on the hot sands and he’d never live down such a humiliating experience.

“In conclusion,” S’nan said, “let me assure this gathering that the Weyrs are ready.” With that, S’nan sat down to an approving applause. “I hope that the holds are, too?” Not only did his voice end on an up note, but he raised his thick brows questioningly at the Fort Holder.

Paulin stood up again, shuffling until he found the right clipboard and cleared his throat. “I have readiness reports in from all but two major holds,” and he glanced first at Franco, Lord Holder of Nerat, and then tilted his head toward Chalkin. “I know you received the forms to film . . .”

The tall, thin, bronze-skinned Neratian raised his hand. “I told you the problem we have with vegetation, Paulin, and we’re still
trying
to keep it under control . . .” He grimaced. “Not easy with the excellent weather we’ve been having and the restriction against chemical deterrents. But I can assure you that we’ll keep at it. Otherwise, we have emergency roofing for the seedling nurseries and sufficient stores of viable seeds to replant when that’s feasible. We’re also continuing our research into dwarfing plants for indoor propagation. All minor Holders are fully aware of the problems and are complying. Everyone’s signed up for the groundcrew course.”

Paulin made a notation, nodding. “Agriculture’s still working on the problem of an inhibitor for your tropical weed types, Fran.”

“I hope so. Stuff grows out of pure sand without any cultivation at all.”

Then Paulin turned to Chalkin, who had been polishing his rings with every evidence of boredom. “I’ve had nothing at all from you, Lord Chalkin of Bitra,” Paulin said.

“Oh, there’s plenty of time . . .”

“A report was required by this date, Chalkin,” Paulin said, pushing the issue.

Chalkin shrugged. “You all can play that game if you wish, but I do not believe that Thread is going to fall next spring, so why should I bother my people with unnecessary tasks—”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence for the acrimonious reactions from everyone at the table.

“Now see here, Chaikin . . .”

“Hey, wait a bleeding minute . . .”

“Just where do you get off . . .” Bastom was on his feet with indignation.

Chalkin pointed one thick, beringed finger at the Tillek Holder.

“The Holds are autonomous, are they not? Is that not guaranteed in the Charter?” Chalkin demanded, rounding on Paulin.

“In ordinary times, yes,” Paulin answered, waving a hand to the others to be quiet. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the angry remarks and protests. “However, with—”

“This Thread of yours coming. So you say, but there’s no proof,” Chalkin said, grinning smugly.

“Proof? What more proof do you need?” Paulin demanded. “This planet is already feeling the perturbation of the rogue planet . . .”

Chalkin dismissed that with a shrug. “Winter brings bad storms, volcanoes do erupt . . .”

“You can’t so easily dismiss the fact that the planet is becoming more visible.”

“Pooh. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“So,” and Paulin first had to quell angry murmurs to be heard, “you discount entirely the advice of our forebears? The massive evidence that they left for our guidance?”

“They left hysterical—”

“They were scarcely hysterical!”
Tashvi bellowed. “And they coped with the emergency, and gave us specific guidelines to follow when the planet came back. And how to calculate a Pass.”

“Hold it, hold it!” Paulin shouted, raising both arms to restore order. “I’m Chair, I’ll remind you,” and he glared at Tashvi until the Telgar Lord resumed his seat and the others had quieted down. “What kind of proof do you require, Lord Chalkin?” he asked in a very reasonable tone of voice.

“Thread falling . . .” someone muttered, and subsided before he could be identified.

“Well, Chalkin?” Paulin said.

“Some proof that Thread will fall. A report from this Aivas we’ve all heard about. .

“Landing is under tons of volcanic ash,” Paulin said, and then recognized S’nan’s urgent signal to speak.

“Nine expeditions have been mounted to investigate the installation at Landing and retrieve information from the Aivas,” S’nan said in his usual measured tones. As he spoke he searched for and found a sheaf of plastic and held it up. “These are the reports.”

“And?” Chalkin demanded, obviously enjoying the agitation he had aroused.

“We have not been able to locate the administration building in which the Aivas was located.”

“Why not?” Chalkin insisted. “I remember seeing tapes of Landing prior to the first Threadfall . . .”

“Then you will appreciate the size of the task,” S’nan said. “Especially since the blanket of volcanic ash covers the entire plateau and we have not been able to locate any landmark by which we could judge the position of the administration building. And since the housing was similar, it’s difficult to establish where we are when we have dug one out of twenty feet of ash and debris. Therefore we have not been able to establish the location of the administration building.”

“Try again,” Chalkin said, turning his back to S’nan.

“So you have done nothing to prepare your Hold at all for the onslaught?” Paulin asked calmly, reasonably.

Chalkin shrugged. “I don’t perceive a need to waste time and effort.”

“And money . . .” murmured the same heckler.

“Precisely. Marks are hard enough to come by to waste them on the off chance—”

“
Off chance?
” Tashvi erupted out of his chair. “You’ll have a revolt on your hands.”

“I doubt that,” Chalkin said with a sly smile.

“Because you haven’t bloody seen fit to warn your holders?” Tashvi demanded.

“Lord Telgar,” Paulin said repressively, “I’m Chair.” He turned back to Chalkin. “If the rest of us, however misguidedly, do believe in the forewarnings—backed by irrefutable astronomical evidence of an imminent Pass, how can you deny them?”

Chalkin’s grin was patronizing. “A spaceborne organism? That drops on a large planet and eats everything it touches? Why wasn’t Pern totally destroyed during previous visitations? Why is it every two hundred years? How come the Exploration Team that did a survey of the planet before it was released to our ancestors to colonize . . . how come they didn’t see any evidence? Ah, no,” Chalkin said, flicking the notion away from him with his beringed hands, “ridiculous!”

“My calculations were confirmed by—” Clisser said, feeling that he was being maligned.

“There was evidence of Threadfall,” Tashvi said, bouncing once more to his feet. “I’ve read the report. There were hundreds of circles where vegetation was just starting to grow . . .”

“Inconclusive,” Chalkin said with another flap of a hand. “Could have been caused by one of the many fungus growths.”

“Well, then, when this inconclusive evidence comes dropping out of the skies onto your hold, don’t bother us,” Bastom said.

“Or come crying to my hold for help,” added Bridgely, completely disgusted by Chalkin’s attitude.

“You may be sure of that,” Chalkin said, and with a mocking bow to Paulin, left the Hall with no further word.

“What are we going to do about him?” Bridgely asked, “because sure as night follows day, he will come running for aid to Franco and me.”

“There is provision in the Charter,” Paulin began.

Jamson of the High Reaches stared with wide and disbelieving eyes at Paulin.

“Only if he believes in the Charter . . .” Bastom said.

“Oh, Chalkin believes in the Charter all right,” Paulin said sardonically. “The patent conferring the title of ‘Lord Holder’ on the original major northern stake-holders is what gives his line the right to hold. And he’s already used the Charter to substantiate his autonomous position. I wonder if he also knows the penalty for failing to prepare his hold. That constitutes a major breach of the trust . . .”

“Who trusts Chalkin?” G’don asked.

“. . . the trust that holders rest in the Lord of their hold in return for their labor.”

“Ha!” said Bridgely. “I don’t think much of his holders either. Useless lot on the whole. Most of ’em kicked out of other holds for poor management or plain laziness.”

“Bitra’s badly managed, too. Generally we have to return a full half of his tithings,” M’shall said. “Half the grain is moldy, the timber unseasoned, and hides improperly cured and often rancid. It’s a struggle every quarter to receive decent supplies from him.”

“Really?” Paulin said, jotting notes down. “I hadn’t realized he shorted you on tithes.”

M’shall shrugged. “Why should you know? It’s our problem. We keep at him. We’ll have to keep at him over this, too, you know. Can’t let him get away with a total disregard for the upcoming emergency. Not every holder in Bitra’s useless, you know, Bridgely.”

Bridgely shrugged. “Good apples in every basket as well as bad. But I’d really hate to have to cope with the problem come springtime and Thread falls. Benden’s too near Bitra for my peace of mind.”

“So what is the penalty for what Chalkin’s doing? Or, rather, not doing?” Franco asked.

“Impeachment,” Paulin said flatly. “Impeachment!” Jamson was aghast. “I didn’t know—” “Article Fourteen, Jamson,” Paulin said. “Dereliction of Duty by Lord Holder. Can you give me a printout on that, Clisser? Perhaps we all should have our memory refreshed on that point.”

“Certainly,” and the Head of the College made a note in his folder. “In your hands tomorrow.”

“So your system’s still working?” Tashvi asked. “Copies of the most important official documents were made in quantity by my predecessor,” Clisser replied with a relieved smile. “I’ve a list if you need any handwritten but legible.”

Paulin cleared his throat, calling them to order. “So, my Lord Holders, should we proceed against Chalkin?”

“You’ve heard him. What option do we have?” M’shall wanted to know, glancing about the table.

“Now, wait a minute,” Jamson began, scowling. “I’d want to have incontrovertible proof of his inefficiency as a Lord Holder as well as his failure to respond to this emergency. I mean, impeachment’s an extreme step.”

“Yes, and Chalkin’ll do everything he can to slide out of it,” Bastom said cynically.

“Surely there’s a trial procedure for such a contingency?” Jamson asked, looking anxiously about. “You certainly can’t act without allowing him the chance to respond to any charges.”

“In the matter of impeachment I believe that a unanimous agreement of all major holders and leaders is sufficient to deprive him of his position,” Paulin said.

“Are you sure?” Jamson asked.

“If he isn’t, I am,” Bridgely said, bringing one fist down firmly on the table. His spouse, Lady Jane, nodded her head emphatically. “I haven’t wanted to bring it up in a Council before—” Bridgely began.

“He’s very difficult to confront at the best of times,” Irene said, setting her lips in a thin line of frustrations long borne.

Bridgely nodded sharply in her direction and continued. “He’s come as near to bending, or breaking for that matter, what few laws we do have on Pern. Shady dealings, punitive contracts, unusual harsh conditions for his holders . . .”

“We’ve had some refugees from Bitra with stories that would curl your hair,” Jane, Benden’s Lady Holder, said, wringing her hands in distress. “I’ve kept records . . .”

“Have you?” Paulin said. “I’d very much like to see them. Autonomy is a privilege and a responsibility, but not a license for authoritarianism or despotic rule. Certainly autonomy does not give anyone the right to deprive his constituents of basic needs. Such as protection from Threadfall.”

“I don’t know about going so far as to impeach him,” Jamson said, his reluctance deepening. “I mean, such an extreme remedy could have a demoralizing effect on all the holds.”

“Possibl . . .” Paulin said.

“Not being prepared for Thread will certainly demoralize Bitra!” Tashvi said.

Paulin held up his hand as he turned to M’shall. “Please give me specific instances in which Bitra Hold has failed to supply the Weyr. Jane, I’d like to look at the records you’ve kept.”

“I’ve some, too,” Irene added.

Paulin nodded and looked around the table. “Since his dereliction of primary duty in regard to preparation against Threadfall could jeopardize not only his own hold but those of his neighbors, I feel we must examine the problem as quickly as possible and indict him—” Jamson jammed an arm up in protest, but Paulin held up a placatory hand. “If, that is, we do find just cause to do so. Just now, he was acting as if he’d had too much of Hegmon’s new wine.”

“Ha!” was Irene’s immediate response, a cynical response echoed by others around the table.

“We cannot allow personal feelings to color this matter,” Paulin said firmly.

“Wait till you read my notes,” was her wry answer.

“And mine,” said Bridgely.

“But who could take his place?” Jamson asked, now querulous with anxiety.

“Not a task I’d like so soon to Thread,” Bastom admitted.

Paulin grimaced. “But it may have to be done.”

“Ah, if I may,” and Clisser raised his hand. “The Charter requires us to find a suitable candidate from the incumbent’s Bloodline—” he began.