“Our feelings won’t be hurt,” Menolly said, glancing up at Sebell to see him nod in agreement. Sebell’s good sense and equable nature were two of the many reasons she loved and respected him. “There’re other empty pallets, Piemur; you look to be out on your feet. You and Sebell go sleep in with Master Robinton, and I’ll join Jancis. If this Aivas has waited—how many Turns did you say, Jaxom? Twenty-five hundred—” She gave a little shudder for such a long span. “—we can wait until tomorrow.”
“I shouldn’t leave it all to Jaxom . . .” Piemur said, definitely tempted by the thought of lying horizontal for a while. That last cup of klah had made no dent in his fatigue.
Menolly took him by the hand. “I’ll even tuck you in, the way I would Robse.” She grinned at his disgusted snort. “You’re no better than Master Robinton in taking care of yourself. Come, get some sleep, now. You, too, Sebell. Tomorrow—no, it’s already today here, isn’t it—well, I suspect everyone is going to rush about like headless wherries. So it’ll behoove us to stay cool and calm.”
When the doors had closed quietly behind them, Jaxom turned to Aivas.
“There’s just me here now, Aivas.”
“That is obvious.”
“You were obeying your orders, then, weren’t you?”
“That is my function.”
“All right, then it is my function to show you the Records of our history, as Master Robinton wanted.”
“Please place the Record facedown on the lighted plate.”
Carefully, with full regard that Master Arnor, the head archivist at Harper Hall, would have his guts for garters if he damaged a single one of the precious pages, Jaxom opened the first Record, Present Pass One, and laid it on the green glowing panel.
“Next!”
“What? I barely had time to place it,” Jaxom exclaimed.
“Scanning is instantaneous, Lord Jaxom.”
“This is going to be a long night,” Jaxom remarked, and obediently opened the Record to a new page.
“Journeyman Piemur said your white dragon is an exceptional beast,” Aivas said, “with many unusual qualities.”
“Compensation for him being small, white, and uninterested in mating.” Jaxom wondered what Piemur had said about Ruth, even though he knew the journeyman was devoted to both him and the white dragon.
“Was the journeyman correct in saying that Ruth always knows
when
he is, and that he has traveled in time?”
“All the dragons can travel in time, at least backward,” Jaxom said a trifle absently, his attention focused on turning the pages carefully, as well as quickly.
“Timing is also prohibited?”
“Timing is dangerous.”
“Why?”
Jaxom shrugged as he changed pages. “A dragon has to know exactly the time
when
he is going to, or he can come out of
between
at the same spot he’s inhabiting at that earlier time. Too close, and it is thought that both dragon and rider will die. Equally, it’s unwise to go any place you haven’t already been, so you shouldn’t go forward, because you wouldn’t know if you were there or not.” Jaxom paused to smooth some pages flat where the binding was particularly tight. “Lessa made a particularly spectacular flight.”
“So Journeyman Piemur told me. A brave feat, but apparently not without debilitating consequences. The method of teleporting was never fully explained, but judging by the journeyman’s account, an abnormally long period spent in such travel causes sensory deprivations. You and your white dragon have also timed it?”
“That is the term,” Jaxom said in a flat tone that he hoped would discourage further questions. But Aivas was not human, he realized, and might not perceive his reluctance from tone or words. “The episode is not common knowledge.”
“Understood,” Aivas replied, to Jaxom’s surprise. “Would you object, Lord Jaxom, to a discussion of the duties of the various social groups that have been mentioned in the Records so far? For instance, what are the responsibilities and privileges of a Lord Holder? Or a Weyrleader? A Craftmaster? Some terms are so well understood by the scribes that they are not defined. It is necessary to have a firm grasp of such terms to understand the current political and social structures.”
Jaxom gave a little chuckle. “You’d do better to ask one of the more experienced Lord Holders: Groghe, for instance, or even Larad or Asgenar.”
“You are here, Lord Jaxom.”
“Yes, am I not!” The quickness of the Aivas amused Jaxom. So, as talking would certainly relieve the tedium of turning pages, Jaxom complied—and found it very easy indeed to talk to Aivas through the long night. Only later would he realize how skillfully he had been queried. He could not even guess how valuable his explanations would prove to be.
Jaxom had worked his way through five Turns of the Present Pass when the muscles in his shoulders began to tense. He needed a break. So when he heard someone stirring, he called out softly.
“Who’s up?”
“Jancis. You came back—oh!” She grinned as she entered the chamber. “Shall I take over? You look exhausted. Why didn’t Sebell or Menolly do this?”
“Because Aivas will have nothing to do with them until they’ve been formally introduced to him. By a Lord Holder, a Masterharper, and a Weyrleader.”
Jancis’s expression was rueful. “Sometimes we outsmart ourselves. Here, I’ll take over, Jaxom. Get yourself some klah. It should still be good and hot.” And taking the Record from his hands, she spread the pages on the panel. “Master Robinton, and the others here then, quite rightly decided it was wiser to limit who could talk to Aivas.”
“Hmm, yes, there’s no telling what people will ask Aivas,” Jaxom said, thinking of the way he had rattled on and on, although Aivas had done all the asking.
By the time he had finished the klah, which was not as hot as he liked but did stimulate him, Jancis had finished that volume. She started on another.
How soon, Jaxom wondered, could he get his lady, Sharra, admitted to the roster? She had been so excited when he had told her about the medical knowledge Aivas claimed to possess. She had two cotholders, suffering intense pains that she was unable to alleviate with fellis. They were slowly wasting away. Master Oldive, whose advice had been sought, was also baffled by their declines. Then Jaxom reminded himself that Oldive, being Masterhealer, would have precedence with Aivas. Jaxom was careful about using his privileges as Lord Holder, and yet, in a case of life or death, could he not make an exception?
“That will be all for now, Journeywoman Jancis,” Aivas said in a muted voice. “The energy supplies are nearly exhausted. An hour of good sunlight will be needed to restore power. If the remaining panels could be cleared, there would be more power available in the future.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Jancis asked Jaxom in confusion.
“No,” Jaxom said, chuckling. “It gets its power from those panels you and Piemur uncovered on the roof. Sun power. Sun’s been down for hours now.” He yawned hugely. “It’s late. We should both get some sleep.”
Jancis considered the idea, then reached for the nearly empty klah beaker. “No, I’m awake now. I’ll brew more klah. We’ll need plenty of that when people start arriving.” And she bustled off.
Jaxom liked Jancis. Not long ago, they had shared lessons at the Mastersmithcraft and he remembered that she had worked a lot harder than he had—and that she clearly had a talent for smithing. She deserved her Master’s status. He had been a bit surprised when she and Piemur had come to an understanding, though Sharra had heartily approved. Wandering up and down the Southern coastline had turned Piemur strange there for a time, she had said. What he needed to set him right was a sound relationship. And certainly the impudent young harper would encourage Jancis to develop some needed assertiveness and maybe lose some of the inhibitions caused by growing up in the shadow of her awesome grandfather, Fandarel. Jaxom knew just how capable a draftsman she was.
Tired but unwilling to settle down to sleep, Jaxom wandered to the entrance, nodding to the two bored guards as he walked out into the cool night air and up the mound of excavated dirt, to stand on its summit. Ruth rumbled affectionately at him from the next hillock, and Jaxom sent the white dragon a caressing thought.
Though Jaxom hadn’t even mentioned it to Sharra, he felt oddly proprietorial about this plateau, which he and Ruth had originally discovered, and in particular about this Aivas entity, which they had dug out. Having heard Aivas list the names of the first colonists, Jaxom wondered who his ancestors had been. He had never been comfortable with having Fax as his sire, which was the main reason why he so rarely made use of many of a Lord Holder’s traditional privileges. Larad of Telgar was not a prideful man, but he must feel immensely proud of his heritage after hearing of his forebears, Sallah Telgar Andiyar and Tarvi Andiyar. Groghe was a sensible man, but knowing that his direct ancestor had been a universal hero would make the Fort Lord Holder inordinately proud. But why hadn’t Fort Hold been named after the valiant Admiral Benden? Why was Benden Hold in the east? And why hadn’t Aivas known more about the dragons? Fascinating. No doubt there would be more revelations.
I listened
, Ruth said, gliding from his perch to the mound on which Jaxom stood,
to what this Aivas creature said. It is true that we were an experiment?
Ruth moved forward until he was close enough to touch Jaxom and then leaned his head against his weyrmate.
What
is
an experiment?
Jaxom heard the indignation in Ruth’s tone and stifled a chuckle at his friend’s reaction.
“A most felicitous happening, dear friend, not that it matters a lead mark how you and the other dragons came to be,” Jaxom said stoutly. “Besides you’ve always known—better than anyone else on Pern—that dragons are cousins to the fire-lizards. So why should it bother you how you were created?”
I don’t know
, Ruth replied in a strangely subdued, uncertain tone.
Is this Aivas thing good?
“I believe it is,” Jaxom answered, briefly considering his reply. “I think it will depend on us, the use to which we put the information the Aivas can give us. If it rids Pern of Thread . . .”
If it can, that means dragons won’t be needed anymore, doesn’t it?
“Nonsense,” Jaxom said more sharply than he had intended. He threw his arm around his dragon’s neck in quick reassurance, caressing Ruth’s cheek and leaning into his shoulder. “Pern will always need dragons. You could do a lot more useful and much less dangerous things than sear Thread out of the skies, believe you me! Don’t you fret for a single moment about our future, my friend!”
Jaxom wondered if F’lar, Lessa, and F’nor had heard from their dragons on that score. But he knew that such a worry would not be the important issue to them. The dragonriders were totally committed to ridding Pern of Thread. Everyone knew that F’lar had set that as his life’s task.
“No, Ruth, don’t you worry your heart out over that. Threadless skies are, I fear, a long way off in Pern’s future! Aivas may know a great deal more than we do about Oort Clouds and planets and things, but it is only a machine that speaks. Talk’s cheap.”
Still soothing Ruth’s cheek, Jaxom looked out over the settlement that his ancestors had once inhabited. There were unsightly mounds in every direction where buildings had been greedily excavated only to prove disappointingly empty. How ironic that the real treasure should be nearly the last thing to be uncovered. Incredible that the treasure should prove to be the agency that unlocked the truth to their past. Would it be the key to their future? Despite his reassurances, Jaxom harbored some of the same doubts that made Ruth fretful.
Maybe it was wrong for F’lar to wish an end to Thread, if it inevitably meant an end to usefulness for dragons. And yet, to see the last of Thread, in his own lifetime . . . More importantly, to be able to improve life on Pern with the vast store of knowledge Aivas said it had—surely that was for the good of all?
Just then he saw lights coming up in some of the buildings that the excavation teams were using as dormitories. It was not yet dawn, but obviously there were many others who, like Jaxom, had slept little that night, restless with all the history and incredible moving images churning in their minds.
And what of Aivas’s promise of help? It? He? Referring to this—this entity—as an ‘it’ seemed impolite. The masculine voice was so rich and lively. Yet Aivas called it/himself a machine, the product of an advanced technological culture and, for all its knowledge, an inanimate device. Jaxom felt more comfortable thinking of Aivas as real, as real as his own flesh-and-blood self.
It was then that Jaxom realized that he was going to have to revise many previously accepted concepts. That could be hard to do. The familiar was so comfortable. But the thought of the challenge brought a thrill to Jaxom—the incredible excitement of a future he could not have imagined just two days before, when he and Ruth had helped Piemur and Jancis excavate this one building out of the hundreds here. He didn’t feel tired—he felt exhilarated.
“It’s going to be exciting, Ruth. Think of it that way, as an exciting challenge.” He rubbed Ruth’s eyeridge with his knuckles. “We could both use a challenge, something new. Life’s been getting dull.”
You’d better not say that to Sharra,
Ruth advised.
Jaxom grinned. “She’ll be challenged, too, if I know my mate.”
Ramoth, Mnementh, Canth, Lioth, Golanth, and Monarth are coming,
Ruth said, his tone brightening.
“Reinforcements, huh?” Jaxom gave the eyeridge one more stiff drubbing. “Company for you certainly.”
Ramoth is grumpy,
Ruth said, his tone suddenly wary.
Canth said that lights were burning all night in Lessa’s weyr, and Ramoth had long conversations with all the other queens.
He sounded anxious.
“Don’t worry, Ruth, please. It’s going to work out. This is just a new beginning, just as our Impression was! Though nothing could ever be better than
that
day was for me!”
Ruth raised his head, his eyes altering from a murky shade to a happier blue-green.
The incoming dragons were circling, their faceted eyes vivid green and blue points against the dawn-gray light. As they back-winged, their hind legs poised to take the impact of landing, Jaxom was just able to discern that each dragon carried extra passengers. Some of the dragons waited only long enough to let their passengers dismount before they launched themselves again, disappearing
between
when they had gained sufficient height. The others settled down to wait while their riders and passengers headed for the administration building.