The Dolphins of Pern (18 page)

“You saw for yourself, Healer. He was quite ready to help with Boojie.”

“So he was.” They had entered the clearing around the Weyr Hall. “Well, let me know if they need any more stitching or something. Like dragons, they are appreciative!” He sniffed once disparagingly and made for his quarters.

At Fort Hold, Menolly, Sebell, Master Oldive, and two of his journeymen had made their way to the Fort harbor.

“I find it most fascinating that no one”—Master Oldive paused to emphasize the negative—“ever bothered to ask why that bell was known as the ‘doll-fins’ bell.’”

Menolly laughed, enjoying this outing from the Healer Hall now that the weather was more element
with an early spring warming. It was good to be on runnerback and especially to have something that could pry Sebell loose from his increasingly heavy duties as Masterharper. They scarcely seemed to have any time together these days with all the activity and industry connected with Aivas’s plan to rid Pern of Threadfall. “Surely you’ve come across enigmas in your Healer Hall records.”

“Oh, indeed,” Master Oldive said with a laugh. “Even the most legible entries contain references to procedures the authors were familiar with but which we lost over the centuries. Thankfully, Aivas is explaining more and more.” He sighed, his expression thoughtful. Then he shook off whatever reflection troubled him and spoke more briskly. “And you’ll be able to communicate with the dolphins? If any come in response.”

“My brother assures me that they assured him that all dolphins have maintained their traditions. And we know that there are dolphins in these waters. So we shall ring the peal and see what happens.”

“I do so hope they come,” Oldive said, sighing heavily. “If they can, as Weyr Healer Persellan said, pinpoint irregularities in a human body with this sonar ability of theirs, I might just be able to treat three puzzling cases that have worried me excessively.”

Menolly lowered her voice so it would not carry to the journeymen riding behind them. “You’re having trouble convincing your Craft of the ‘surgical’ treatments the old records recommend.”

“Indeed!” Oldive’s comment was heartfelt. “The Cesarian to release a womb-held baby is permitted, and the one to remove the pendicks, but not the
lengthy repairs or deep delving that Aivas reports were last measures even then. But we don’t have the medicines that the Ancients did that would dissolve or shrink other conditions to which occasionally people are subject.”

They had reached the pier and were welcomed by Masterfishman Curran, who delegated men to take the runnerbeasts from their riders. Menolly noticed that all five vessels of the Fort fishing fleet were in port. She grimaced. She hadn’t anticipated an audience, but they had had to inform Curran of their intentions for the day’s excursion.

Master Idarolan had, of course, informed him of dolphin intelligence. Sebell, also spreading such news, had met with considerable skepticism, especially from those inland who had never seen dolphins escorting ships.

“A long cold ride, you will need at least a cup of klah before you ring any bells,” Curran said jovially, gesturing them to enter his hold, situated on the height above the sea. There was another, smaller cot built on the T-bar of the pier itself for the harbormaster.

Menolly, always conscious of being away from her children, would have preferred not to dally, but courtesy required the grateful acceptance of hospitality. And hot klah would be welcome. She was somewhat stiff after the long ride, having had little occasion to exercise of late. She almost resented the ease with which Sebell, who was constantly riding both runners and dragons, dismounted.

More than klah was offered, which was very nice of Curran and his wife, Robina, and actually very
welcome: small fish rolls that were delectably spiced, the cold roe of fish spread on tiny bread rounds, hot spiced klah, and a cup of a chowder that was also highly seasoned. Masters and journeymen alike, as hungry as any ever born, tucked into the food with a good will. Even Master Oldive made a good meal.

Finally, they were able to go to the long pier, accompanied by a throng of interested fishers and cotholders. Menolly should have known that this would become an occasion, especially after a long and sequestering winter. Everyone took what excuses for diversion they could find. This would certainly be a more interesting one. No sooner had she stepped out of the hold than Beauty, Diver, and Rocky launched themselves from the roof, Beauty settling to her shoulder while Diver and Rocky swanned about in the air above. Other fire-lizards joined them, uttering glad cries, though Menolly knew they could hardly appreciate the reason for the day’s activities.

The dolphins’ bell had been given a new housing, the wood preservative still rank enough to catch a person in the back of the throat despite the light breeze. The bell itself had been shined to a high polish.

“We added a new clapper,” Curran said proudly. “Made Master Fandarel hold up some other work to get it done in time.”

“I could wish to know how you did that, Master Curran,” Oldive said with a wry smile.

“How long has the bell been without a clapper then?” Sebell asked in that quiet way of his that was so good at extracting information.

Curran threw up arms thick from years of hauling
nets and sails. “Oh, it had none when I became Master here.”

“Did
your
Master not notice?” Sebell asked, his eyes twinkling,

“I suppose he did, but he must have taken it on in that condition.” Curran looked a trifle embarrassed.

“The Monaco Bell had no clapper either,” Sebell said to pacify the man, but Menolly noticed her mate did not mention that the Monaco Bell had been at the bottom of the sea for centuries. “But it has one now and can be put to its original use again. Will you do the honors, Menolly?”

“Delighted,” she said, and seized the rope by the end. “I think, Curran, the purpose of the dolphins’ bell is for them to be able to ring it, too, to summon men to hear their reports.”

“I didn’t know
that”
Curran said, surprised. “But what would I do if they should ring it?”

Menolly smiled reassuringly at him. “Ask why they rang it, of course. This is to let them know the bell’s back in service.” She gave the pull a hefty yank, and then settled into the Report sequence that Alemi had taught her. She sincerely hoped it would be effective, or Curran would think he had wasted time and effort—not to mention badgering the Mastersmith for no purpose. So, pretending that the sequence was longer than it actually was, she pealed off the Report a second time. “Alemi’s had very good fishing since he’s listened to the dolphin reports. He’s also been able to avoid some of those appalling squalls the southern waters spawn.”

“Look!”
cried one of the fishmen who had followed them to the pier. On her shoulder, Beauty let
out a piercing cry. Rocky and Diver swooped off to investigate.

Distance viewers appeared from pockets to aid the naked eye.

“Fins!” cried Curran’s first mate. “Half a dozen—no, more than that. Coming from all directions. Heading here!”

Curran reached for the distance viewer from his mate and peered out to sea. Beauty spread her wings, tangling them in Menolly’s winter cap so that she had to grab it before it fell into the sea.

“Easy there, now, Beauty. You’ve seen dolphins before.”

Beauty chittered, but obediently folded her wings and blinked bright blue eyes.

“Quite a display they’re making,” Curran remarked, and politely passed the viewer to Menolly. She grinned and gestured for him to give it to Sebell, who had not yet had a chance to see a dolphin pod arriving in answer to the age-old summons.

How had the creatures remembered for such a long time? Maybe there were dolphin equivalents to harpers? The pod leaders?

Sebell sucked in his breath as he watched. “They are moving at an incredible rate and doing all those leaps and ah … one just somersaulted midair.”

“I’d say they were delighted to hear the bell rung again,” Menolly said with a nostalgic little smile and a catch in her chest. To be ignored, to have one’s abilities neglected must have been hard, and yet the dolphins had continued to do what they could to aid humans all these long centuries. She must write a
special song for them. A very special song of loyalty and joy.

The squeeing was soon audible to the watchers on the dock.

“How can they speak?” Curran asked.

“They do,” Menolly said, “if you listen.” She glanced up at Sebell, standing straight and tall beside her, and grinned impishly. “Despite all we harpers did, the language shifted, but the dolphins are adapting to the new words.”

Sebell gave her a jaundiced stare for that familiar tease, and she chuckled at harper discomfiture over the “purity of speech” that the Craft had
tried
so hard to preserve.

“But I thought …” Curran began, and then stopped, clearing his throat The vanguard was now closing the gap, and the watchers were unable to count the number of dolphin bodies in their leaping and plunging.

“Where’s the boat we need to be close to them?” Menolly asked. Curran pointed to a ladder at the side, and peering over the edge, Menolly saw the long boat bobbing at its painter. Curran led the way and carefully guided her feet to the rungs and safely into the tossing boat. It was one of the offshore fishers and accommodated a fair number of folk; an orderly descent was made by those whom Curran had apparently chosen as audience to this momentous occasion.

They were barely settled when the first dolphin raised its head above the waters.

“Bellill ring. Oo-ee come! Bellill not ring long long.” The creature squeeed, and was joined by other
importunate heads, all of them jostling for a view of those in the boat.

“Your name? I’m Nolly,” Menolly said, leaning over the side of the boat and extending a hand to scratch a bottlenose chin.

Almost ecstatically the dolphin allowed the caress; the jaw dropped into the water in its excess of delight.

“Inka! Inka! Pod leader. Inka!”

“By the first Egg,” Curran cried, and there was excited muttering from the other fishmen.

“Here is Curran,” Menolly said. “Fishmaster.”

“Oo-ee know,” Inka said.

“Flip me,” another dolphin said, raising itself well above the water to reach an eye level that startled the Fishmaster.

“Flipme?” Curran asked.

“Flip! Flip! ‘On-ra-bul naym,”

“On-ra-bul?” Curran repeated, amazed.

“Maybe he means honorable?” Sebell suggested, and held out a hand, hoping to entice a dolphin to him. One immediately raised up and offered fins in his direction. “Your name?” he asked.

“Ajay, Ajay. Man’s name?” The interrogatory lift to the word was unmistakable.

“Sebell. Sebell, Ajay!”

“Sebell.” “Sebell, Nolly, Cur-ran,” chorused dolphins in their high funny voices.

“Oldive,” Menolly said, putting her arm about the Masterhealer. “Healer. Medic,” she added.

“Me-dick! Meddick!” The dolphins passed this information back and forth among themselves; the gray bodies thronged the waters above the boat and great pier bollards that rose above the surface and supported
the T-shaped facility. “Oll-deeve, medick!” Excited squees and clicks followed this introduction, and the immediate waters seethed with dolphins changing position as so many attempted to inspect the healer simultaneously. “Ooooo heal? Oooo skraabbb blufisss?”

“How remarkable!” Oldive said, surprised to be the focus of such attention from so many cheerful faces. “Oooo heal?” he asked, turning to Menolly for a translation. “Skraaabbb blufiss?”

“Bloodfish. It’s a parasite and has to be cut off,” Menolly said. “Alemi did it for his pod. Something they are unable to do for themselves.”

“I shouldn’t wonder with just flippers and no fingers. How would I …”

“Who has blufiss?” Menolly asked, and four dolphins squee’ed and pushed in toward her. She’d had a chance to study Aivas’s tapes on the dolphins and now gave the signal for them to lie on their sides.

“Oh I say,” Oldive remarked with great sympathy. “They must be very painful. One would have to use a sharp knife.”

“Niggghhhff, nigghhhfff” was repeated back to him from those nearest with exposed bellies. They waggled themselves from side to side. “Skraaabbb blufiss.”

“Well, I suppose they’d know …” Oldive said. He took out his belt knife and tested its edge. “Sharp enough, I’ll hope.”

He leaned over the side of the boat. Before any of the seamen could warn them, the harpers and healers leaned over to watch the operation. The boat, of course, rocked and spilled Master Oldive and Menolly into the water.

“No, no, leave me, I’m fine. I swim quite competently,” Oldive said, batting at the hands stretched out to retrieve him.

“Ooooo, it’s cold,” Menolly said, but she also declined offers to drag her back into the boat. She did, however, slip off her boots and pass them up to Sebell. Then she took out her belt knife. “Ah, is that how you do it?” she commented as Oldive deftly sliced the head off the fish, removed the clinging body, and then pried out the head’s sucker, leaving only a tiny hole. The sucker was of remarkable length, since it had had to penetrate through the layers of blubber to tap a vein.

Just as Oldive dealt with his first patient, another dolphin nosed through its fellows, clicking in such an authoritative tone that the others parted for it.

“You really should wait your turn,” Oldive said in a gently chiding tone.

The dolphin smiled and turned its head this way and that as the bright black eyes fixed themselves on the healer.

“Bad back!” the creature said quite plainly.

There was a brief, appalled silence. “My goodness!” Oldive held out his hand to the creature’s nose as if absolving it from mentioning what few did. “How could you know?” he asked. Despite his wetting, the hump was not that apparent under his carefully contrived shirt, and the creature had only observed him from the front.

“Seeee. Seee. I Bit, Oll-deeeve medick.”

“I don’t really believe what I’m hearing,” Curran murmured to Menolly. “And it knew about …” He closed his lips.
“How
could it
see?”