“You distress yourself unnecessarily, Master Oldive, for all those whom I have met so far are in excellent health and well above what was considered normal weight and height by the medical standards of your ancestors. There is much to be said for a nonindustrialized civilization.”
“Industrialized? That term is unfamiliar to me, though I recognize the root word.”
“Industrialize,”
Aivas intoned. “Transitive verb: to organize large industries in; as, to industrialize a community; to introduce the economic system of industrialization into; as, to industrialize a new nation. An industrialized society, in contrast to an agrarian one like yours.”
“Thank you. Why would an industrialized society produce less healthy folk?”
“Pollution of the atmosphere and environment by industrial wastes, noxious fumes, chemical effluents, contamination of field-grown edibles, among other evils.”
Master Oldive was speechless.
“Those who settled Pern wished to found an agrarian society. To that end they were receptive to many anti-industrial cultures, like the ancient gypsies, as well as retired military types. Their objective has been attained in this, your present,” Aivas said.
“It has?” Master Oldive was surprised that Pern had succeeded in anything other than surviving nine Passes of Threadfall.
“In more ways than you might imagine, Master Oldive, being too close to have an objective view. Apart from the inconvenience of the organism, Thread, you have achieved much.”
“Addressing you, Aivas, I perceive that we have also lost much.”
“Perhaps not as much as you think, Masterhealer.”
“In my Craft, I
know
that we have lost the capacity to alleviate much suffering, prevent the plagues which have all but decimated the population from time to time . . .”
“The strong survived, and your population was renewed.”
“But so much knowledge was irretrievably lost, especially in my Craft.”
“Those losses can be remedied.”
Master Oldive was caught up short by what sounded very much like a pun to him. But surely a machine . . . He cleared his throat, but it was Aivas who continued speaking.
“Would it ease your mind to know that even the most astute medical practitioners among your ancestors sometimes felt themselves helpless against plague? That they constantly sought new methods of easing pain and correcting afflictions?”
“It should, but it doesn’t. But, to urgent matters, if I may, Aivas?”
“Of course, Master Oldive”
“There are several patients, three suffering severe pain which we are unable to relieve, wasting in both flesh and spirit. If I tell you their symptoms, would that be sufficient for diagnosis?”
“Proceed with the symptoms. If they can be matched with cases on record, a diagnosis is possible. As there are three point two billion documented histories that can be consulted, a similarity may be found that would suggest suitable treatment.”
With fingers fumbling with hope, Master Oldive opened his casebook to the first of Sharra’s two patients. He owed Jaxom that courtesy.
“What’re you doing?” Jaxom asked, mystified by the way the others were intently regarding their gray screens. Aivas’s main screen was not at all like these smaller ones.
Benelek gave a snort of impatience and bent further over the board. He pecked about with his index fingers in no pattern that Jaxom could discern.
“We’re becoming familiar with the keyboard configuration,” Piemur said, with a malicious grin at Jaxom’s ignorance. “We’re learning our way through the commands. Don’t let us keep you from contrapting your own. You’re a half day behind us already.”
“That’s mean, Piemur,” Jancis said. Taking Jaxom by the hand, she pulled him over to the boxes and cartons that had only been partially unpacked. “Take a keyboard, then one of those larger boxes. Put them on the table, and take one of the liquid-crystal display screens.”
“The what?”
“One of those.” She pointed. “And be careful. Aivas said they’re fragile, and we only have so many of them. Take off the plastic, and you’ll need your knife. That stuff is unbelievably tough. Then,” she continued, handing him a very small-headed screwdriver and a magnifying glass, “unscrew the big box. You’ll have to check over all the circuits to be sure none of them have come adrift. The glass will help you quickly locate any breaks.”
Benelek suddenly uttered a resounding oath and banged his fists on the table. “I’ve lost it all. Everything!”
Piemur glanced up, surprised at Benelek’s uncharacteristic outburst. “Well, reboot.” The new word tripped easily from his Harper-trained tongue.
“But you don’t understand!” Benelek waved his hands wildly above his head. “I lost all I had typed. And I had it almost done!”
“Did you save?” Jancis asked sympathetically.
“Yes, I did, up until just the last bits,” Benelek said, his frustration dissipating. Jaxom watched in fascination as the journeyman jabbed at various places on the board in front of him and then
ahhed
in satisfaction at the result.
“Don’t dally now, Jaxom,” Piemur said with a wicked grin. “You must join our jolly band, where one misused key can destroy a whole hour’s hard work.”
“Aivas did say we’d have to learn many new skills,” Jancis said reasonably. “Oh, shards! I’ve done something wrong now, too.” She peered at the blank screen, then frowned down at the keyboard. “Now what key did I press that I shouldn’t have?”
As he drew his beltknife, Jaxom wondered just why he wanted any part of what was obviously an occupation fraught with frustrations.
The quick tropic evening caught them unawares. Piemur, cursing under his breath at any interruption, darted around the room, opening the glowbaskets. But the light was not shining at the correct angle to light up his screen so, still swearing, he altered his chair. Absently, still tapping away, Benelek followed his example. Jancis and Jaxom, seated at the right angle, continued with their lessons.
“Who’s in here now?” Lessa’s voice said from the hallway. The door opened and she stuck her head in. “So this is where you all got to. Jaxom, Master Oldive needs you and Ruth again, and I think it’s high time you left here. Your eyes are burnt holes in your head. And the rest of you are no better.”
Benelek glanced up only briefly. “This is no time to stop, Weyrwoman.”
“This
is
the time to stop, Benelek,” she replied in an uncontradictable tone.
“But, Weyrwoman, I’ve got to assimilate all these new terms and be able to—”
“Aivas!” Lessa raised her voice as she turned her head to the right. “Can you turn these things off? Your students are too diligent. Not that I don’t approve—in theory—but they could all use a good night’s rest.”
“I didn’t save—” Benelek shouted, spreading his hands in high indignation and staring in horror at a suddenly darkened and unresponsive screen.
“Your work has been saved,” Aivas’s voice assured him. “You have toiled without renewing yourself all day long, Journeyman Benelek. Even machines need maintenance. Your body can be considered a soft machine which also needs frequent sustenance. Refresh yourselves. Return tomorrow with energy and concentration renewed.”
For a few seconds Benelek looked as if he might rebel. Then he sighed and pushed himself back from the table over which he had been bent for hours. He gave Lessa a sheepish grin. “I will eat and rest. And begin again tomorrow—but there is so much to be learned, so much more than I ever imagined.”
“Indeed there is,” Master Oldive said, emerging from the Aivas room, a thick sheaf of papers clutched in one hand and his satchel in the other. He looked from one to the other in bewilderment. “So much more than I dreamed.” And then he sighed with great satisfaction, holding up the sheaf. “But this is a good start. A very good start.”
“You will need some klah before Jaxom takes you anywhere, Master Oldive,” Lessa said. She took the healer firmly by the arm and nodded to Jancis and Jaxom to take his encumbrances from him.
He relinquished the satchel readily enough but he clutched the sheaf to him.
“Let me at least tidy them up, Master Oldive,” Jancis said earnestly. “I shan’t disarrange their order.”
“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Oldive said with a weary flick of his long-fingered hand. “They’re numbered and separated into categories.” Jancis still had to gently pry his fingers loose, “I have learned so much, so much,” he muttered with a bemused smile on his face as Lessa led him down the hall. The others followed, suddenly aware of their own fatigue.
You have been in there for six hours, Jaxom, and you had better eat something, or Sharra will blame me,
Ruth said.
You’re very tired, you know.
Oh, I know I am. I know I am.
Jaxom wondered if klah would be enough to revive him.
“Is it our turn now?” Terry asked as he and several eager-faced journeymen came around the corner from the entrance hall. When Lessa nodded, he urged his followers down the hall at a jog trot.
Their energy appeared almost obscene to Jaxom. No one had the right to have that much vitality at the end of a day. As they passed him, he noted that their shoulder knots identified them as coming from Tillek, far enough west that it was actually early in the day for them. He sighed.
Lessa installed Master Oldive in a chair at the table and gestured for the drudges to supply everyone with klah and plates of roast beast and tubers. Never had such a plain meal smelled so appetizing to Jaxom. He gobbled down the food, and when he was offered a second helping, he took as much again.
There was more color in Master Oldive’s cheeks as he made inroads on his generous serving. Benelek ate with single-minded intensity, his eyes focused on some obscure distance, and occasionally he nodded his head as if approving his ruminations. Jaxom decided he hadn’t the energy for thinking right then. He would think again the next morning. Sharra would understand. He hoped Brand would, since he would once again have to leave the Steward to cope with the details of running Ruatha Hold. Brand never seemed to mind. On the other hand, Lytol might, but surely Master Robinton would explain the importance of Aivas to Jaxom’s old guardian.
“I must send a message to that young journeyman of Wansor’s,” Oldive told Lessa, his enthusiasm vivid on his long face. “I must have an apparatus similar to the one that was found in Benden Weyr. It will magnify blood and tissue so that we can identify disease and infection.” He reached for the neat pile Jancis had made of his papers and started leafing through them. “Aivas states that the use of a microscope is essential to improve medical diagnosis and even treatment. He has given me the details of how to run other necessary diagnostic tests.”
“A microscope?” Lessa asked indulgently. She thought highly of the Masterhealer, who had recently sent her a woman possessed of a miraculous talent for repairing even the most damaged wings or hideous Thread-scores.
“That’s the word.” Oldive put a hand to his forehead. “Aivas crammed so much into my poor head today that I wonder I can remember my name.”
“It’s Oldive,” Piemur said, putting on an innocently helpful expression. He rolled his eyes at the quelling glance Lessa threw him. Jancis poked him in the ribs, and he subsided meekly enough.
When they had finished their meal, Jaxom presented himself ready to convey Master Oldive back to the Harper Hall.
“Ah, no, Jaxom, I would like to go directly to Ruatha. I have advice for Sharra.” There was a radiant smile of great satisfaction on the healer’s face.
“Aivas knows a cure?” Jaxom asked.
Master Oldive nodded toward his stack. “Cure? Perhaps. Certainly several avenues of investigation that may provide relief.” Then he sighed. “There was so very much medical acumen lost over the centuries. He didn’t say so, of course, but Aivas was clearly taken aback by our lack of remedial surgery. He was, however, most commendatory about our preventive measures and nonsurgical techniques. Ah . . .” He made a weary gesture with one hand. “I could go on and on.” He smiled with self-deprecation. “With whom should I arrange additional time with Aivas? There are both Masters and journeymen who would benefit immensely by consultations with him.”
Lessa looked up to see a weary-looking F’lar standing in the doorway. He shrugged.
“I hadn’t thought about apportioning Aivas’s time,” the Weyrleader said.
“As soon as we manage to set up these individual stations,” Piemur said, “there’ll be four more links to Aivas.”
“The Healer Hall should have priority,” Lessa added with a frown, scrubbing at her face in fatigue.
“Those are to be teaching consoles,” Benelek said, scowling.
“For us, maybe,” Piemur said. “But if they access Aivas, then they can be used for other purposes. At least that’s what I figure.”
“You’re a harper, not a journeyman mechanic.”
“I’m a Mastersmith,” Jancis put in, her tone edged, “and let me remind you that Piemur got his unit up and running before either of us did.”
“Enough!” Lessa brought her hand down on the table with a slap of authority. “We’re all tired.” She rose abruptly. “Ramoth!” Outside, the golden queen dragon bugled a response. “You’re all to leave this building
now
!” She leveled a stern look first at Benelek and then the others. “Including us.” Her gaze settled on F’lar, who grinned and held up both hands as if to fend her off. “The two buildings to the left of this one have been set up as dormitories. Go!” She shooed them off with her hands, then glared at them until they started to move.
Master Oldive chuckled softly as he accompanied Jaxom out of the building. “Not that I think I will sleep tonight at all with so much to absorb and review. Why, Jaxom, even what I learned today is only the veriest crumb of the medical knowledge which Aivas had stored! He clarified my understanding of several perplexing conditions. I must have Master Ampris, our herbalist, bring him our pharmacopoeia.” A weary smile lit Master Oldive’s face. “He said we have made very good use of indigenous plants, and he recognized many as those brought by our ancestors from Earth. Earth!” And Oldive looked up at the star-spangled sky, turning his twisted body to scan the dark heavens above them. “Do we know where Earth is in relation to Pern?”