Dragonseye Part 33

He had only half his mind on the discussion. B'nurrin was all but laughing, only the kicks he received under the table from K'vin keeping him from bursting out. Not that K'vin could blame the Igen Weyrleader, for the meeting was a charade: each of them giving soberly presented reasons for the two hourly rotation while S'nan said little more than monosyllables. He kept his expression blank. it was Sarrai's petulant expression that was honest.

"She's been dying to get all of us under her wing," Zulaya whispered to K'vin when the Fort Weyrwoman's face was turned towards her anxiously pacing mate.

"Don't think she will, love," K'vin said, the endearment coming easily to his lips now. He sighed. "You know," and he moved his lips close to her ear. I'm almost sorry for the old man."

Zulaya gave a little snort. "I'm not!" Then she altered her expression to one of earnest attention as Sarrai looked over at them for whispering.

Thread came down as black dust, sifted in with snow or sleet.

Fort sweep riders brought buckets of it for S'nan to see and mournfully wave off. High Reaches were even more diligent in their efforts to locate live, dangerous Thread.

Some riders even suffered frostbite, so earnestly did they watch for the reappearance of the old enemy, although one long piece of frozen Thread was brought for G'don to examine. The stench of it as it melted was enough to dispose of it completely.

By the time of Benden's First Fall - by the numbers, Ten - the weather pattern had s.h.i.+fted sufficiently on the east coast to a warmer front so that a good deal of that projected Fall would be considered 'live and dangerous'. The call went out to all the Weyrs of Pern.

K'vin and Telgar Weyr's two full wings of dragon riders rea.s.sembled in the upper right quadrant of air above Benden Weyr, not a rider out of alignment. Below him the Weyr was ablaze with lights in this dark pre-dawn time, lighting the bellies of the dragons in their ranks. He wasn't sure if the Telgar contingent got there before the units of the other Weyrs, but they were certainly all present and accounted for at the designated hour and in the a.s.signed positions. Everyone would have preferred a daylight defense, but Thread didn't need to see to Fall.

And according to Sean's reports of early morning or late evening Falls, the silvery stuff would be luminous enough for the practical purpose of flaming it out of the sky.

This First Fall of the Second Pa.s.s would start across the high mountains, still deep with winter snows, and would thus fall harmlessly. Much would probably fall as black dust in the still frigid temperatures of that area though quite likely, on other occasions, Fall would merely be observed until it moved inexorably down to habitable lands. Today was the exception.

The final decision by the Weyrleaders had been unanimous - when M'shall had made S'nan put it to a vote - to ride the entire Fall over the ranges, harmless or not, to see it for themselves. Everyone was too keyed-up over the first three 'dud' Falls to wait any longer to go into action. Of course, some of the peaks jutted at alt.i.tudes where oxygen had thinned to an unsustainable level even for dragons. But it could be seen in actual descent and the general aspect of this Fall judged.

"The wings would be rotated after two hours, giving as many as possible a chance at the real thing". K'vin briefly thought of P'tero's vain attempt to be included in the fighting force Telgar would launch. Maybe he should have put the blue rider in, sore a.s.s and all, to prove that there was a lot more to fighting Thread than having the guts to do it. But to include P'tero would have been to exclude a perfectly healthy and less erratic rider. K'vin had not selected M'leng of the green riders chosen for the First Fall. That would ease any discord between the pair: that one had gone and the other had not.

Basically, they were good weyrmates having a reasonably stable relations.h.i.+p ever since P'tero, who was the younger, had Impressed Ormonth.

Movement and a s.h.i.+ft in air pressure caught K'vin's attention and he looked down at Benden's Rim.

Craigath warns us, Charanth told his rider. Three, two, one...

GO!.

The command came from many minds and many throats in the dark above Benden Weyr. The blackness of between was more intense but scarcely less cold than the atmosphere above the peaks where the wings re-entered real s.p.a.ce. K'vin was glad of the wool fabric across his mouth and nose, though it did not altogether warm the thin air he inhaled. Below, the snowy mountains gave off a curious light of their own. Belior was setting in the west and K'vin looked around, to the east, and saw the baleful orb of the Red Planet, vivid amongst the stars.

Spits of fire blossomed in the darkness all around as eager dragons belched. Too full a belly of firestone, K'vin thought with professional detachment, but he could hardly fault rider or dragon for over-priming.

For two centuries they had waited for this moment: centuries of training and lives lived so that dragons - and riders - would be here, right now, waiting to defend Pern.

Yet this was a first, too. For Pern had had no dragons the first time Thread had fallen. And the planet had been so close to total disaster before the first eighteen dragons had emerged from between above Fort Hold to flame the parasite from the skies and give hope to the beleaguered defenders. K'vin had always been struck by the courage - he should make P'tero read those entries - of the despairing Admiral Paul Benden in his diary written just prior to that magnificent triumph.

Even in his most recent reading of that journal, his throat closed over as he read the words: And then that young rogue had the temerity to salute and say, "Admiral Benden, may I present the Dragonriders of Pern?"

More spurts of fiery breath and every dragon head turned slightly northward.

It comes! Charanth said, rumbling deep in his chest, a vibration that K'vin felt through his legs. He was aware then that the only warm part of him was what was pressing against his dragon's neck. His nose had no feeling of the fabric across it. Maybe they should drop down a thousand feet or so.

And K'vin looked towards the central block of the ma.s.sed wings, where M'shall and Craigath waited. It was the Benden Weyrleader's call, not his.

Then he saw it - or rather the ma.s.s of something l.u.s.trous against the black of night, like a banner spread from some distant source in the sky, a banner that rippled and spun. The pace of his heartbeat picked up. He felt an odd coldness in his guts, but it could simply be because it was very, very cold at this alt.i.tude.

Charanth's rumble increased and a little spit of flame spilled from his mouth.

Steady, lad!

I'm not moving! It is! And I can flame this time!

K'vin could not reproach Charanth for that snide reminder.

And, oddly enough, he also felt no fear as he regarded the advance. There was this sense of inevitability, that he would be here, at this moment in time, to observe this phenomenon, to be part of this defense.

Closer and closer the waves of Thread came as the ma.s.sed wings watched. The leading edge was now falling visibly on the mountainsides. In this cold air not even the steam of its dissolution was visible.

Thread was falling in a steady stream, freezing dead in the snow.

A steady stream, no tangles, no bare spots.

Craigath says we regroup at the second meeting point.

Agreed.

Oddly enough, K'vin did not like even to regroup, though there was nothing Thread could have done to harm the snowy mountainsides and it was foolish to waste time and flame here.

But it felt like retreat.

Charanth had broadcast the order and took them between.

The air was noticeably warmer at the alt.i.tude of the new position.

He rubbed at his nose and cheeks to bring blood to the surface. Even his fingertips felt numb from the cold.

False dawn began in the east, the Red Star paling slightly in the graying skies. And Thread suddenly looked more ominous. More dragons spewed flame and he told Charanth to warn them to conserve their breath.

Suddenly the wait was chafing. They had waited so long, hadn't they? Two hundred years! When would they begin?

But Thread fell on snow, and K'vin was close enough to Leading Edge now to see the holes it made in the whiteness.

NOW! Craigath's command reached K'vin's mind in the same moment that Charanth roared, full flame erupting from his mouth, as he beat his wings to power his forward surge.

K'vin clutched at the flight strap, felt frantically for the rope that tethered the firestone sacks to the neck ridge in front of him, and clamped his knees as tight as he could to his bronze!

His right arm raised and pointed forward, as if any rider had missed Craigath's command or the roars that emerged from dragon throats across the sky.

They were flying in ranks, Telgar being the second and slightly behind the uppermost wings which were from High Reaches. There was sufficient air between the two layers of dragons so that flame from one level would not interfere with another; and a corridor for maneuver as well. Every Weyr had drilled its wings for this strategy until it was instinctive to stay within the plane a.s.signed them.

The moment when Charanth's breath sizzled up descending Thread was a transcendental experience for both partners.

Charanth sustained his flame magnificently, crossing this cordon, and then they were out, beyond Thread's fall and turning. K'vin spared a glance at the rest of his wings and saw them pivoting simultaneously, all those long, long hours and years of practice resulting in a perfect maneuver. His heart was like to burst in his chest with pride. Below and above him, other wings were turning, all now flaming to catch the next band of falling Thread. And the next. And the next.

Meranath and the others are here, Charanth announced, dropping his head to peer far below.

They are? Turn. K'vin looked below and saw the unmistakable arrow of golden bodies in their low-level position, the flame-throwers which the queen riders used spouting here and there as they disintegrated stray strands escaping the higher ranks.

Does Meranath fly well?

Meranath flies very well, Charanth said proudly.

Tell the wings it is time to execute the first change-over, K'vin said. He swiveled his body around to watch that maneuver, holding his right arm up high, sweeping his eyes across Telgar's wings. He dropped his arm and counted nine or ten dragons still flaming. Then they, too, went off. He counted to five and suddenly full wings flew behind him. He raised his arm high in recognition of their arrival, which was all he had time for because the wall of Thread advanced to flaming distance and Charanth was ready with his fire. So far he could find no fault with the performance of Telgar's wings.

It seemed no time after that when he realized his sacks of firestone were empty, and he had Charanth call for more. It surprised K'vin to notice that they had flown from night into day, for the sun slanted right into the eyes as they flew east again. There was good reason to use tinted gla.s.s in the goggles.

Z'gal and blue Tracath made the drop, swooping in neatly just above his head and depositing the new sacks across Charanth's neck.

K'vin pulled the release knot of the empty sacks and saw Tracath swivel and dive beneath Charanth, Z'gal deftly catching the limp ones and disappearing instantly between.

Tell Tracath that was well done, K'vin said.

They were over the northern-most edge of Benden now, above pasture lands, forests and small farming holds. The need for accuracy and complete destruction of Thread was more crucial now. The queens' wing was more visible, gold against the dark green or brown of fields not yet verdant with spring growth.

Sacks had to be replenished again. He called in the second change-over of wings, only then realizing that he was beginning to tire.

Are you all right, Charanth?

I flame well. My wings beat strongly. We are together. There is no problem.

The calm, strong tone of his bronze was like a tonic. Yes, they were together, doing what they had been bred and maintained to do.

Meranath says we are over Bitra Hold now. They were turning west again, back for another run. K'vin did notice that there seemed to be less Thread falling now, even gaps between the sheets of it. This Fall is nearly over?

K'vin wasn't sure if Charanth was pleased, surprised or disappointed. He, for one, was enormously relieved! He had survived the ultimate test of the Weyrleader.

They did one more pa.s.s eastward and then there was no more Thread visible above. A cheer echoed from rider to rider, and all those within K'vin's range pumped both arms in jubilation.

We should land at Bitra Hold, in case we are needed for burrows that might have escaped us, K'vin told Charanth. Tell the wings well-done, and all but J'dar's may return. He will wait with us for the all-clear. It is M'shall's pleasure to tell us that! Any casualties?

That was the traditional Weyrleader's query, though reports would also be made to him during the Fall so that he could a.s.sess what replacements might be needed.

Today only some minor burns from char. Nothing bad enough that anyone cared to report to you.

K'vin wasn't that pleased that news had been withheld, but he could understand the reluctance of any rider in today's Fall retiring for a mere char burn. Now he noticed that he had quite a few black spots on his own riding leathers, but nothing had penetrated through to his flesh. Would that every Fall would be so trouble-free! And the next one which Telgar flew would show up the foolhardy. He'd have to give the entire Weyr a hard b.o.l.l.o.c.king to prevent the c.o.c.ksure from disaster.

Today the queens' wing would join the wing leaders at Bitra Hold, though traditionally they stayed aloft to a.s.sist ground crews.

Zulaya sought K'vin immediately she was on the ground and embraced him, seeking his mouth to kiss him with enthusiasm.

"We did it! We did it!"

"This time," K'vin said, hugging her tightly to him. He could almost have thanked P'tero for getting him so angry. It had done the world of good for his relations with Zulaya.

The way she looked at him now, the way she had to touch him... Well, they were truly weyrmates.

M'shall was moving among the riders, slapping one on the shoulder, thanking each Weyrleader for partic.i.p.ating in this almost scatheless Fall, a wide smile plastered on his face.

"I'd say that this was a normal Fall," S'nan was saying rather portentously.

"How can we possibly tell?" G'don asked.

"The records, man, the records," said S'nan, glaring. "It's exactly as Sean described Fall #325, in his records of 11 AL. Exactly."

"Oh, Fall #325?" asked B'nurrin, his eyes dancing." Myself, I felt it was more like #499 in 12 AL."

"B'nurrin?" M'shall's raised eyebrows suggested that the irrepressible young Igen Weyrleader should stop baiting S'nan.

"We got off much too easily," said D'miel of Ista, shaking his head. "I mean, we were all on a high. I for one was expecting far worse."

"Isn't it nice to be disappointed?" K'vin said, but he agreed with D'miel. Everything had gone too well.

"Nonsense," said G'don. "We were all flying our best riders."

"We've been keyed up for weeks, and nervous. And I don't mind admitting I was," he added, glancing around him, but he winked at K'vin and B'nurrin. Others nodded agreement. "So we were very cautious."

"It's when we're so accustomed to the menace that we're liable to be careless, to take unnecessary risks, to stop watching out of the backs of our heads."

A murmur of agreement and nods greeted that observation.

"We must never relax our guard during Fall," S'nan declared, again sententious. "Never!"

"We'll have to be doubly cautious during the second Fall over south Benden and Keroon," Zulaya said softly to K'vin.

"Well, I for one was pleased with the way the wings performed. Not much got through," he repeated. "Between the upper flights and the queens' wing, only four incidents of burrow, and those were handled with great dispatch. Thanks to Vergerin."

The Bitra Lord Holder was directing the distribution of Hegmon's sparkling wine to those crowding in his courtyard.

"Only think what might have happened if Chalkin was still here!" Irene said, raising her gla.s.s towards Vergerin.

"Who wants to think what might have happened?" Laura of Ista Weyr demanded, laughing with exaggerated relief.

"For one thing, we wouldn't have this champagne," Irene replied.

"That's for d.a.m.ned sure!"

"How'd you get the sparkly out of Hegmon, Vergerin?" G'don wanted to know, cradling his gla.s.s lovingly.

"We're old friends, you might say," Vergerin replied with a droll grin.

"Did any wing report injuries?" asked M'shall, his expression turning sober.

"Nothing above char burns in mine," K'vin said. And that was what the other wing leaders reported one after another.