Dragonseye Part 5

For instance, get Kalvi to take in... what was the old term, ah, apprentices... take in apprentices to learn fabrication and metal-work?

And there'd have to be a discipline for mining, as well as metal-working. One for weaving; farming; fis.h.i.+ng. And one for teaching, too. Of course, education in itself was designed to teach you how to solve the problems that cropped up in daily living, but for specialties you could really slim down to the essential skills required by each. As it was, that sort of apprentice system was almost in place anyhow with parents either instructing their kids in the family's profession or getting a knowledgeable neighbor to do it.

Kalvi had both sons now in supervisory capacities in his Telgar Works.

And there should be provisions to save other kids, like Jemmy, and see that they were able to develop a potential not in keeping with their native hold's main business.

Administer a basic apt.i.tude test to every child at six, and the more specific one at eleven or twelve, and be able to identify special abilities and place him or her where she could learn best from the people qualified to maximize the innate potential.

Even in medicine, a new curriculum should be established, based on what was now available on Pern rather than what the First Settlers had had. Mind you, Corey was constantly regretting the lack of this or that medicine, or equipment and procedures that would have saved lives but were no longer available. Clisser snorted; too much time was spent b.i.t.c.hing about 'what had been' and 'if only we still had' instead of making the best of what was available in the here and now.

What was that old saying?

"Ours not to wonder what were fair in life, but finding what may he, make it fair up to our means?" Well, he couldn't remember who had said it or to what it had applied. But the meaning definitely applied!

Pern had great riches which were being ignored in the regret of the what had been. Even Corey had to admit that the indigenous pharmacopoeia was proving to be sufficient for most common ailments, and even better in some cases now that the last of the carefully h.o.a.rded Earth chemicals were depleted.

Basic concepts of maths, history, responsibility, duty, could indeed be translated into music, easier to transmit and memorize. Why, anyone who could strum an instrument could give initial instruction in holds, teach kids to read, write and do some figuring, and then let them apply themselves to the nitty-gritty of their life's occupation.

And music had always been important here.

He put his foot down on the step, pleased with this moment's revelation. A whole new way of looking at the education and training of the young, and entirely suitable to the planet and its needs. He must really sit down and think it all through... when he found the time.

His laugh mocked his grandiose ideas and yet, they'd had to revise and reform so many old concepts here on Pern: why not the method in which education was administered? Was that the word he wanted: administered? Like a medicine? He sighed He did wish that learning was not considered an unavoidable dose. Certainly someone like Jemmy proved that learning was enjoyable. But then, insatiable appet.i.tes like his for knowledge, for its own sake, were rare.

Clisser trotted up the last of that flight of steps in considerably better humor. He'd find the time, by all that's still holy, he would.

Late Autumn at Telgar Weyr

Zulaya beamed at Paulin. "Yes, she rather outdid herself, didn't she?" She turned to regard her queen fondly as the golden dragon hovered proprietarily over the fifty-one eggs which would, by all the signs, hatch some time this day.

All morning dragons had conveyed in guests and candidates.

"Aren't the Weyrs over-producing a trifle?" Paulin asked.

Benden and Ista Weyrs had also had Hatchings in the past month.

He had lost two very promising holder lads to the Weyrs; a felt loss, as the boys could no longer journey easily between Hold and Weyr as riders were freer to travel, and to learn and practice other professions during an Interval.

"Frequent clutches are one of the sure-fire signs that there will be a Pa.s.s," Zulaya said, "obviously looking forward to the days when the dragons of Pern started the work for which they were engineered. Have you heard that song the College sent out?"

"Hmmm, yes, I have," and Paulin grinned. In fact, I can't get it out of my mind.

"Clisser says they have several more to play for us tonight."

"Just music?" Paulin asked, scowling.

"It's a device we asked them for something permanent so that no-one can deny the imminence of a Pa.s.s." Zulaya patted his hand encouragingly.

"You can ask what progress he's made on that project." K'vin, coming up behind them, casually laid a hand on his Weyrwoman's shoulder, acting as proprietarily of her as her dragon was of her clutch. Amused, Paulin coughed into his hand and hurriedly excused himself.

"He's worried about that fail-safe," Zulaya said, also amused by K'vin's show of jealousy but not about to remark on it.

"You're looking very beautiful in that new dress," he said, eyeing it.

"Am I? Why, thank you, Kev," she said, twisting her hips to make the skirt whirl. Which reminds me..." and she held out a fold of the rich crimson patterned brocade which she had had made for this Hatching. "Fredig suggested tapestries, hanging in every Weyr and Hold, depicting the return of the Red Star - with the formulae in the borders. Make an interesting design, certainly."

"Colors fade and fabrics certainly deteriorate."

"We've some that graced houses in Landing. That Earth Moon scene which was made, as I've been told, out of synthetic yarns which are more durable than what we have now cotton, linen and wool. And even they are looking worn and losing color."

"I'll have them washed You'll have them thread-worn. - ooops," and K'vin grinned at the pun.

"Which is not what is wanted but there's no reason, Kev, not to have a hundred different reminders. Something set in stone." the Weyrleader said in a more sober tone.

"Even stones move - - Only prior to a Pa.s.s.

"Only how to perpetuate the critical information?"

"I think everyone's worrying too much. I mean, here we are," and Zulaya gestured broadly to include the Hatching Ground and the Weyr around them.

"Why else have dragons? And Weyrs set apart to preserve them, if not for a very, very good reason? They're the planet's only sure defense." A sound - subliminal more than a real noise - alerted them.

It issued from Meranath who reared to her hindquarters, spreading her broad wings; her eyes glowing brightly green and beginning to whirl with excitement.

"Ah, it starts," Zulaya said, smiling in antic.i.p.ation. -Oh, I love Hatchings!" Hand in hand, the two Weyrleaders raced to the entrance and called out the news, scarcely needed, for the Telgar dragons were already reacting to the queen's maternal croon with their deep masculine humming.

The Weyr Bowl became active with dragons a-wing in excitement, flipping here and there on seemingly unavoidable collision courses: with the Weyrlingmaster herding the candidates forward: with parents and friends of the lucky boys and girls rus.h.i.+ng across the hot sands to take their places in the amphitheatre: hustling to get the best seating for the Impression about to happen.

K'vin sent Zulaya back to keep Meranath company as he urged people inside, checked the nervous white-clad candidates who had been halted in a clump near the entrance until the spectators were all seated.

"You've long enough to wait on the hot sands as it is," T'dam, the Weyrlingmaster, told them. "Singe your feet, you could, out there."

All this time the humming was rising in volume: Meranath joined by all the other dragons in a chorus of tones that Sheledon - and others had tried to imitate but never quite succeeded. Meranath's throat was swollen with her sound, which continued unabated and seemingly without her needing to draw breath. Soon, as the volume increased, her chest and belly would begin to vibrate too, with the intensity of her humming. K'vin was aware of the usual response in himself, a jumble of emotions; a joy that threatened to burst his heart through his chest, pride, hope, fear, yearning - oddly enough, hunger was part of it - and a sadness that, on some occasions, could make him weep.

Zulaya always wept at Hatchings - at least, until Impressions began.

Then she was jubilant, picking up on her queen's acceptance of her clutch's partnering.

In Fort Hold's storage, there were file boxes full of early psychological profiles about the effect of Hatching on riders, dragons and the new weyrlings. The bonding that occurred was of such complexity and depth that no other union could be compared with it: almost overwhelming in the initial moment of recognition, and certainly the most intense emotion the young candidates had ever experienced.

Some youngsters had no trouble at all adapting to the intense and intrusive link: some suffered feelings of inadequacy and doubt. Every Weyr had its own compendium of information about what to do in such-and-such a situation. And every weyrling was a.s.siduously trained and supported through the early months of the relations.h.i.+p until the Weyrleaders and Weyrlingmaster deemed he/she was stable enough to take responsibility for her/himself and her/his dragon.

But then, a rider was the dragon, and the dragon the rider, in a partners.h.i.+p that was so unwavering, its cessation resulted in suicide for the dragon who lost his mate. The unfortunate rider was as apt to take his life as not. If he lived, he was only half a man, totally bereft by his loss. Female riders were less apt to suicide; they at least had the option of sublimating their loss by having children.

When the little fire-lizards, who had supplied the genetic material to bio-engineer the larger dragons, had still been available, a former male rider found some solace in such a companions.h.i.+p. Only three fire-lizard clutches had been found in Ista in the last five decades, though it was thought more might be found in the Southern Continent, but that quest had so far been futile. The vets had decided that some sort of odd disease had infected the creatures on northern warm beaches, reducing their numbers and/or their clutches. Whatever the reason, no-one had fire-lizard companions any more.

As soon as most of the guests had crossed the hot sands, T'dam allowed the candidates to make a loose circle around the eggs. There was no golden egg in this clutch - a circ.u.mstance which had both relieved and worried the Weyrleaders.

They had five junior queens, which was quite enough for Telgar's low flight wing. In fact, there was no dearth of queens in any of the Weyrs, but there was safety in having enough breeders.

Only five girls stood on the Hatching Ground vying to attract the attention of the greens. There should have been six, but one girl's family had refused to give her up on Search since they claimed a union had been arranged and they could not go back on that pledge. As K'vin thought that a good third or even half of this clutch might be greens, he hoped there'd be enough suitable lads' to impress the green hatchlings. His study of Thread fighting tactics also indicated that greens with male riders tended to be more volatile, apt to ignore their Weyrleaders' orders in the excitement of a Fall: in short, they tended to unnecessarily show off their bravery to the rest of the Weyr. On the other hand, the green dragons were valuable to a Weyr for their speed and agility even if they didn't have the stamina of the larger dragons. A careful wing leader alternated his green riders, resting each at least an hour during a Fall.

There had been a monograph on the advantages of female over male green riders in Threadfall. Although the text allowed the reader to make his own decision, K'vin had fallen on the side of preferring females when Search provided them.

Certainly their personalities were more stable and they posed fewer problems to the Weyrleaders. Young male green riders could go into emotional declines if they lost their weyrmates and be useless in Fall, sometimes even suiciding in their distress. On the other hand, since the greens were s.e.xually very active, there was more danger of female riders becoming pregnant, unless they were extremely careful.

Even spontaneous abortions due to the extreme cold of between required sensible convalescence.

"Taking a short dragon-ride" was now a euphemism for ending an unwanted pregnancy. Another good reason to have a few female green riders in the Weyr: less embarra.s.sment.

According to Zulaya, though, there had been few such terminations since she had become Weyrwoman. Probably due to the fact that too many holds had lost relatives to the last bad winter fever. Or possibly because everyone wanted to have enough children to extend their legitimate holdings or establish new ones.

The draconic humming - what Clisser called a pre-birth lullaby was reaching an almost unendurable level, climaxing when the first egg cracked open. The spectators were exhibiting the usual excitability, jumping about, weeping, singing along with the dragons. They'd calm down, too, once the Hatching had begun.

And it did. Three sh.e.l.ls burst outwards simultaneously, fragments raining down on nearby eggs and causing them to crack as well. K'vin counted nine dragons, six of them wetly green, and revised his third of greens closer to half.

The hatchlings were so dangerous at this stage, ravenous from their encapsulation, and some of the nearer candidates hastily avoided the b.u.mbling progress of the new-born. Two greens seemed headed for Weyrbred girls but the blonde from Ista, already noted in the Weyr for her quick wits, stepped beside one and Impression was made for both.

Three of the other greens made for lads who had demonstrated h.o.m.os.e.xual preferences in their holds. The remaining green, after lunging out of her sh.e.l.l, stood, weaving her head back and forth, crying piteously.

T'dam called out to the remaining girls to converge on her.

The brunette girl from Ista made for her and instantly the little green covered the intervening distance, squeaking with relief.

K'vin swallowed against the emotional lump in his throat: that instant of recognition always brought back the moment when he had experienced the shock of Impression with Charanth. And the glory of that incredibly loving mind linking with his: the knowledge that they were indissolubly one, heart, mind and soul.

We are, are we not? Charanth said, his tone rough with the memory of that rapture. Despite the fact that Charanth, like the rest of the Weyr's dragons, was perched up along the ceiling, K'vin could hear the dragon's sigh.

Zulaya grinned up at K'vin, aware of what was taking place within him, tears flowing down her face as the high emotional level of the Hatching affected her.

Absently K'vin thought that the glowing bulk of Meranath behind Zulaya made a great background for her beautiful new gown, red against gold.

Then another dozen or so eggs split wide open and the raucous screeching of starving little dragonets reverberated back and forth on the Ground. There was a piercing quality to these screams like lost souls. As each hatchling met its rider, the scream broke off and a mellow croon began. That quickly segued into a piteous hungry appeal which was almost more devastating than the earliest screech the weyrlings made. K'vin's stomach invariably went into empathetic hunger cramps.

The noise of a Hatching, K'vin thought, was unique.

Fortunately, because human eardrums were not designed to deal with such decibels and cacophony, it didn't last too long.

He always felt slightly deafened - certainly ear sore - by the end of a Hatching.

He was suddenly aware of another sort of babble and fuss going on just outside the Hatching Ground. He tried to see what was happening, but he saw T'dam striding over to investigate so K'vin turned his attention back to the pairing of the last few hatchlings, two browns and the last green. Two lads were homing on the green, desperate expressions on their faces. Abruptly the green turned from them and resolutely charged across the sands to the girl who had just entered.

K'vin gave a double-take. There were only five girls, weren't they? Not that he wasn't glad to see another. And she was the one the green wanted, for the hatchling pushed aside the boy who tried to divert her.

Then three men strode into the Ground, furious expressions on their faces, with T'dam trying to intercept their angry progress towards the lately Impressed green pair.

"DEBERA!" yelled the first man, reaching out and s.n.a.t.c.hing her away from the green dragonet.

That was his first mistake, K'vin thought, running across the sands to avert catastrophe. d.a.m.n it all. Why did this marvelous moment have to be interrupted so abruptly?

Hatchings should be sacrosanct.

Before K'vin could get there, the green reacted to the man's attempt to separate her from her chosen one. She reared, despite being not altogether sure of her balance on wobbly hindquarters. Extending her short forearms with claws unsheathed, she lunged at the man.

K'vin had one look at the shock on his face, the fear on the girl's before the dragon had the man down and was trying to open her jaws wide enough to fit around his head.

T'dam, being nearer, plunged to the rescue. The girl, Debera, was also trying to detach her dragonet from her father, for that's what she was calling him.

"Father! Father! Leave him alone, Morath. He can't touch me now I'm a dragon rider Morath, do you hear me?" Except that K'vin was very anxious that Morath might have already injured the man, he was close to laughing at this Debera's tone of authority. The girl had instinctively adopted the right att.i.tude with her newly hatched charge.

No wonder she'd been Searched and at some hold evidently not too far away.

K'vin a.s.sisted Debera while T'dam pulled the fallen man out of the dragon's reach. Then his companions hauled him even further away while Morath continued to squeal and writhed to resume her attack.

He would hurt you. He would own you. You are mine and I am yours and no-one comes between us, Morath was saying so ferociously that every rider heard her.

Zulaya joined the group and, bending to check the father's injuries, called for the medics who were dealing with the minor lacerations that generally occurred at this time. Fortunately, Morath had no fangs yet and, although there were raw weals on the man's face and his chest had been badly scratched by unsheathed claws - despite their newness - he had been somewhat protected by the leather jerkin he wore.

By now, most of the newly-hatched were out of the Grounds, being fed their first meal by their new life companions. The spectators, beginning to dismount from the ampitheatre's levels, managed to get a peek at the injured man. Undoubtedly they would recount the incident at every opportunity. K'vin hoped the embellishments would stay within reason. Now he had to deal with the facts.

"So, perhaps you would tell us what this is all about?" he asked Debera who, confronted by the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, was suddenly overcome with remorse and doubt.

"I was Searched," she said, urgently stroking Morath who was trying to burrow her head into the girl's body. "I had the right to come. I wanted to come," and then she waved an indignant hand at her prostrate father, "and they didn't even show me the letter telling me to come. He wants me for a union because he had a deal with Boris for a mining site and with Ganmar for taking me on. I don't want Ganmar, and I don't know anything about mining. I was Searched and I have the right to decide." The indignant words rushed out, accompanied by expressions of distaste, resentment and anger!

"Yes, I remember seeing your name on the Search list, Debera," said Zulaya ranging herself beside the girl in a subtle position of support. The alignment was not lost on the older of the two men attending their fallen friend.

"You are Boris?" she asked him. "So you must be Ganmar," she went on, addressing the younger one. "Did you not realize that Debera had been Searched?"

Ganmar looked very uncomfortable and dropped his eyes, while the scowl on Boris's face deepened and he jutted out his jaw obstinately. "Lavel told me she'd refused."

At that point, Maranis, the Weyr's medic, arrived to have a look at the wounded man. When he had examined him, he sent a helper for litter-bearers. Then he began to deal with the injuries, pulling back the tattered jerkin, provoking a groan from the dazed man.

"Well, Boris," Zulaya said, at her sternest. "As you seem to be aware, Debera does have the right..."

"That's what you weyrfolk always say. But it's us who suffer from what you call 'right' Making more trouble, Boris?" asked Tashvi, arriving just then with Salda.

"You agreed, Tashvi," Boris said, with little courtesy for his Lord Holder. "You said we could dig that new mine. You were glad to have me and my son here start. And Lavel was willing for Ganmar to have his daughter."

"Ah, but the daughter seems not to have been so willing," Lady Salda remarked.

"She was willing all right, wasn't you, Deb?" Boris said, staring with angry accusation at the girl who returned his look by lifting her chin proudly.

"Til they came from the Weyr on Search."