The Dolphins of Pern (14 page)

“I’m not going to let those lovely children be saddled by some journeyman who only wants to warm his bones in this climate,” she told them. “They have to have someone as alert, eager, and,” she added with a smile, “as adventurous and understanding of this environment as possible. We do have a lovely girl finishing her apprenticeship, if you wouldn’t mind a woman harper …” Menolly had cocked her head at her friends with a sly grin and a twinkle in her eye.

“Of course we wouldn’t mind,” Jayge and Alemi said in unison, then smiled at each other.

“As well, but Hally won’t walk the tables for another nine or ten months and it’s not good to start the teaching process and then interrupt it for such a long time. The children of this Hold are
eager
to learn, and I don’t like to put them off.”

She went on to point out the strengths and failings of each of the other young men. Perschar, the best artist in the Harper Hall, had sent along portrait sketches of Boskoney, Tomol, and Lesselam, several poses of each, including a full-length drawing in color.

“I never expected we’d have a choice,” Aramina said, scrutinizing the drawings.

Menolly grinned at her. “What? And deprive my nieces, and nephews, of the best education there is? Of course, whoever comes here will have to spend some time helping the archivists with the music Aivas has been churning out for us. Tagetarl’s in charge of the actual printing, but the Paradise River
Hold harper is close enough to assist the work. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“Not at all,” Jayge said. “We’re quiet here and there are not that many children …”

“Yet,” Aramina added with a wink. When the excitement of that admission had abated, she asked if any of the men were married.

“Not yet.” Menolly grinned. “You’ve several lovely girls here among your holders. We have to give
them
some choice, too, and not limit it to smelly seamen.” She grinned at her brother.

“I like him,” Aramina said, pointing to Boskoney. “He has a kind eye.” Boskoney was not the handsomest of the three, nor the tallest. His curly hair was sun-bleached, and there were laugh wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. She felt comfortable looking at his portrait, whereas the other two faces didn’t seem as … candid. “Ista bred, did you say? Then he won’t mind the heat so much as the other two. And we won’t have to explain about firehead and the other disadvantages of living in a tropical climate.”

“Very well,” Menolly said briskly, pushing the sketch of Boskoney over to her. “Sebell will inform Boskoney of his posting and I’ll ask T’gellan to send a rider to collect him. I’d like to discuss the various children with him so he’ll know what aspects to concentrate on. They’re such a lovely handful. I’ve quite enjoyed my time. Ooops, there’s the baby awake again.”

Boskoney arrived, was duly briefed by Menolly on his students’ abilities, and settled in the harper’s hold as if he’d always been there. Menolly promised to
visit Paradise River Hold again, especially when Camo volunteered the information that he would like to stay warm here. He didn’t like winter, but then, as Menolly explained, he had trouble remembering to put on his jacket as the year progressed into winter, and he would forget to take it off as the year wound into spring and summer.

Boskoney elected to do his Harper Hall duty at Landing in the evenings, and T’lion and Gadareth were usually assigned to convey him. That suited T’lion, Gadareth, and Alemi, for they continued to improve their relations with the dolphins, and now there were many pods that would respond to the bells. In the biggest tree bordering the strand nearest Eastern Weyr, T’lion had cobbled a sort of belfry arrangement—using a smaller bell than Alemi used at Paradise Head.

It wasn’t that he was
trying
to be secretive about his activity. It was more that he was relishing the association so much—as was Gadareth—that he didn’t want his efforts ridiculed or demeaned. After all, it wasn’t as if Weyrleader T’gellan didn’t
know
that dolphins rescued the sea-stranded. It was only that he, T’lion, hadn’t exactly explained the relationship he was improving all the time.

A summons to the Weyrleader’s quarters that morning in no way alarmed T’lion, since T’gellan often sent for him to assign the day’s chores. But he did not expect to see his brother there, and he was not at all reassured by the smug expression on K’din’s face and the stern ones T’gellan and Mirrim wore.

I
don’t know why you’re upset, Monarth
, T’lion heard his dragon say quite loudly in his head.
They
are dolphins that the ancients brought here. They save lives. They can speak to anyone.

That gave T’lion the clue he needed: K’din had been spying on his evening sessions with the dolphins.

“I believe you have some explaining to do, T’lion,” T’gellan said sternly, cocking an eyebrow at his young rider. Mirrim also looked repressive.

“About the dolphins?” T’lion hoped he sounded more relaxed then he actually was.

“Dolphins?”

“Yes, dolphins is what Aivas called them.” He saw the Weyrleaders exchange glances as he casually dropped in that authority. “They came with the Ancients, you know. They had been given mentasynth enhancement so they could speak with their human partners, the dolphineers.” He got all the big words out without tripping over them.

T’gellan frowned. “You’ve been to Aivas with this?”

“Well, no,
he
interviewed
me.
Master Alemi at Paradise River Hold is working very closely with the dolphins, since they give him weather reports, news about what fish are running and where. Saves the fishmen a lot of trouble. And better yet, they warn about squalls.”

“They do!” T’gellan said, more statement than question, digesting T’lion’s cheerfully rendered explanation.

“And just how did you get involved, T’lion?” Mirrim wanted to know.

“Oh, you know how these things happen, Mirrim. Like the time you Impressed your fire-lizards.”

She frowned, giving him a don’t-you-be-cocky-with-me stare. “You Impressed these creatures?”

“No, nothing like that” T’lion dismissed the suggestion with a flick of his hand. “Nothing like dragons.” His tone also relegated the association to a less significant interface. “They are useful, though.” He decided not to add “like fire-lizards.” “You summon them with a bell peal. If they feel like it, they answer. Mostly they do because we’re sort of a new game for them.”

“New game?” T’gellan leaned forward.

“That’s what Master Alemi said. The pod that lives in these waters is different from the one he’s in contact with. Aivas wants us to find out how many there are and try to improve their language skills.”

“Language skills?” Mirrim said, blinking at him.

T’lion gave a shrug. “That’s the term Aivas used. They speak badly—they say ‘mans’ for ‘men’ and ‘gayve’ instead of ‘gave,’ messing up words something fearful. I have to sort of teach them how to speak correctly.”

K’din gave a scornful guffaw. “You, a teacher?”

“I do know more words than the dolphins do,” T’lion replied serenely.

“Just when do you teach them, T’lion?”

The young bronze rider could see he wasn’t out of the fire yet as far as his Weyrleader was concerned. “Oh, when I have time. Like when I’m bathing Gadareth. He rather likes the dolphins. They swim under him and tickle his belly. And when I’m scrubbing his wings, they vault over them.”

“Do they so?” The Weyrleader’s tone was rhetorical,
and T’lion remained silent, trying to act nonchalant.

Had K’din actually suggested that he was depriving or neglecting Gadareth in favor of dolphins? Not that he could be drummed out of the Weyr or anything! However, he could be disciplined and kept from associating with the dolphins. Had he mentioned Aivas enough so that T’gellan would be satisfied? Or had he made too much of that association for a Weyrleader’s unease?

“I think we’d better meet these …”

“Dolphins, Weyrleader. They’d be pleased to make your acquaintance, too,” T’lion sounded as cheerful as he could, but he hoped the dolphins would display their positive talents instead of their love of play and games. “Can my brother come? So he can get a good square look at the dolphins?”

T’gellan regarded the older brown rider with a speculative look. “I do believe that might be salutary.”

“Yes, very,” Minim added with a sour look in K’din’s direction.

Monarth and Path are interested. I told them everything we do. But we should have told the Weyleaders sooner That is one thing wrong. I don’t understand the other.

Not the most reassuring remark Gadareth could have made.

As T’lion turned to follow the Weyrleaders out to their waiting dragons, he realized that Gadareth was correct about not informing his Weyrleaders sooner. But, with conveying Menolly and others about, he hadn’t been much in the Weyr these days.

But much on the seaside talking to dolphins
, Gadareth reminded him conscientiously.

That brother of mine
, T’lion thought back to his bronze.
He’d love nothing better than to get me in trouble with the Weyrleaders.

Bulith doesn’t like it.

Good on Bulith, then.

Fortunately for T’lion’s purpose of demonstration, Tana and Natua appeared as soon as the bell peal had echoed across waters slightly roughened by a sea breeze and the incoming tide. T’lion walked in to waist depth to meet the two, while the others stood on the shore, dragons, riders, and Minim’s fire-lizards.

“Just you two?” T’lion asked, having hoped to have more of the pod to show off. Then he raised his voice so those on the beach could hear what he said as he made introductions. “Tana, Natua, that’s my pod leader, T’gellan, and his mate, Mirrim. And K’din.” He was
not
going to introduce him as his brother.

“G’day, Gellin, Mirm,” Natua said politely while Tana splashed water in their direction.

“G’day, Natua,” Mirrim said, and waded out to stand by T’lion. She had a grin on her face. Her fire-lizards swirled above her head protectively. She patted the bottlenose that Natua pushed at her. Tana did a swim-by, observing Mirrim with first one eye and then the other on the return trip. Then she reared up in the water so that she and Mirrim were at eye level. “G’day, Tana. Water good?”

“Fine. Fish fine, too. Pod eating. Good eating.”

It was clear that Tana wanted to know what game they’d be playing, so T’lion hastily intervened. “Sorry to call you from feeding, Tana.”

“Bell ring. We answer. We promise. We here.”

He was also pleased that their speech was so clear—he’d finally broken their habit of saying “oo-ee” for “we.”

“It’s very good of you to be so prompt because my pod leaders wanted to meet you.”

Natua did a backward flip, showering water on Mirrim and T’lion. Minim’s expression went blank as water dripped from her head and shoulders. T’lion winced. He was so accustomed to such antics, that he hadn’t thought to warn her. Mirrim flicked water off her arms and gave a deep sigh.

“You didn’t need to soak Mirrim,” T’lion said, shaking a finger at Natua. The dolphin squee’ed and cut a circle about the two humans.

“Water warm. Good,” Natua said, his lower jaw dropping in a smile as he came to a halt by the young rider.

Mirrim began to laugh. “What’s a soaking to sea creatures? And I did enter his water.” She used both hands to shake water out of her hair. “You like soaking humans.”

“You woman, not oomans,” Natua said.

Mirrim made an O with her mouth, amazed that he recognized the difference. “Thank you, Natua! C’mon in, T’gellan, you’re missing half the fun and the water’s … warm!”

Then, to everyone’s shock, Tana delivered a surprise. “You have a baby inside.”

“What?”
Mirrim cried, arching her body toward the dolphin.

“Tana sees baby.”

“What did you say? Now, wait a minute, you, you
fish!”
Mirrim said, shock briefly draining color out of her face before indignation brought on a deep flush under her tanned skin.

“What’d that critter just say?” T’gellan demanded, wading out to his weyrmate and putting a protective arm about her.

T’lion was aghast. He didn’t know what to do. He gulped and stammered, until he caught his brother’s smug expression.

“It said I’m pregnant,” Mirrim replied. “This is not a joking matter, doll-fin!”

“Not joking,” Tana said. “I know. Always we know. Sonar tells truth about wo-man body.”

“Sonar? What’s that?” T’gellan demanded of his young rider. “Just what is going on here?”

“I don’t know,” T’lion said in a wail

“I right. You ask medic. Squeee! Good time is baby time. I have baby, too. Like it.”

“Medic?” T’gellan echoed, ignoring the rest of the comment.

“That’s what the Ancients called healers,” Mirrim murmured, her head bent to watch the hand she put on her belly, just below the watery surface.

“I’m sorry, Mirrim. I don’t know …” T’lion said, appalled by the incident and Tana’s declaration. How could she queer this meeting? He’d thought they were his
friends!
He might just as well plead to be transferred to another Weyr before his disgrace became planetwide—and he had no doubt at all that
K’din would see that everyone knew! He’d truly shamed his family now. And he’d been so proud to speak to shipfish! To his growing horror, Tana didn’t stop chattering and Natua was nodding violently as if he, too, concurred!

“I know. Woman is pregnant,” Tana repeated, excitedly weaving about in front of the three humans. Then, before anyone guessed her intent, she dropped back into the water and, with the greatest care and lightest touch, put her nose over Mirrim’s hand. “Have baby. Not soon. Small.”

T’gellan exchanged glances with his weyrmate and began to smile tenderly at Mirrim.

“Not that I don’t wish you were, Mir,” he said so softly that T’lion wasn’t sure he’d heard properly.

“But nothing’s happened yet—I mean, it’s much too soon to be sure,” Mirrim murmured back, looking up at the tall bronze rider, her expression equally tender. Then she gave herself a shake and started to wade to the shore. “First thing, we find out from Aivas if that silly sea creature could possibly know what it’s talking about.” She swiveled back toward T’lion. “You come, too, T’lion, and we’ll just settle the matter for once and all. Can’t have a rider your age dealing with erratic creatures like these.”