The Dolphins of Pern (27 page)

“Of course,” Lessa and Fandarel said in chorus.

“I can hear that, too,” Nicat said.

F’lar pressed the red button. “Then join us!”

“Only too happy to since it’s raining, you know.”

F’lar and Lessa exchanged amused glances. They had been at this meeting for well over an hour now and had had no idea the weather had altered from morning mists to precipitation.

“Master Fandarel, some klah?” Lessa said, getting a fresh mug from the tray and holding up the thermal jug that had been one of the best homey additions to kitchen equipment.

“Please,” he said, striding forward and accepting the seat that F’lar suggested.

Nicat arrived, puffing slightly from the climb to
the weyr, holding out the damp coat he’d been wearing, which Talmor took from him and hung on a spare chair to dry.

While he was being served a welcome cup and seated, the two devices were passed around the table for everyone to examine.

“Now what’s all this about your people being bribed, Fandarel?” F’lar asked, setting aside the delights of the device for the more important consideration. “That’s serious.”

“It distresses me, my journeyfolk, and Masters, because it undermines the discipline of my crafthall and the honor and loyalty which has always governed us.”

Nicat muttered a “here, here,” to that sentiment.

“Who’s doing the bribing?” R’mart wanted to know. “Toric?” The Telgar Weyrleader made no bones about his distrust of the southern Holder.

“Not always.”

“Oh, then who?” R’mart demanded, surprised.

Fandarel shrugged. “Let them remain nameless, Weyrleader. Our craftsmen and women did not accept the offered bribes and informed me of each occurrence. But I worry about the apprentices who might not have such scruples.”

G’dened snorted. “I’ve heard of bribery in Ista Hold. Lord Warbret’s furious. He’s also lost some young men and women who’re knowledgeable enough about the sea but haven’t formally been apprenticed yet. And there it is Toric, or his agents, who’re promising high marks because Istans would ‘understand’ the hazards of the Southern Continent
since they’re already used to tropical conditions.” G’dened snorted.

“Not the same at all,” F’lar said. “Ista’s been settled a long, long time and has no more of the hazards that the Southern Continent has in plenty.”

“Exactly, and furthermore—” G’dened began.

“We don’t actually have many more sites available right now,” Talmor said, looking through his papers. “And it’s not just a matter of having trained craftspeople to staff them, Master Fandarel. It’s sites that are accessible. So far, we’ve concentrated on river and oceanside positions so there is at least one means of transportation and contact. Especially when the northern-born have not had a chance to acquire fire-lizards. Of course, that device of yours would be of enormous assistance in that respect.” He nodded to the handheld.

“That is the bad news I have for you,” Fandarel said with a heavy sigh. “We will need a work force to make the transistors required and to assemble the components. They will have to be trained, and we will need at least one knowledgeable person of journey rank to oversee the work. Master Benelek needs all the young folk he can train for the terminals and cannot give the Hall more time. I have a long list of those who have requested this efficient and effective little device.”

Lessa covered her smiling mouth at his use of his favorite words. “Effective” was now always paired with “efficient” in his lexicon. It was ironic that when he finally had achieved a device that satisfied his high standards, he hadn’t the people to produce the units.

“As well as the demand for any one of the many projects people have applied for our Craft to fabricate,” he added, “I’ve had to assign Master Terry three assistants to deal with requests alone, and we have given up trying to make efficient and effective deliveries.” Fandarel’s sigh was more regret than satisfaction at so much business on his books.

“I, too, am overwhelmed, Weyrleaders,” Master Nicat put in. “Every mine known to the Craft, and certainly all the new ones from the Ancients’ records, are being worked and I’ve had to ask those older miners who returned to the Hall to do Aivas’s work to remain on in supervisory capacities. I can’t afford to lose one able-bodied man or those women we have in the Hall. Then—he threw up his hands—“people started applying to me for stoneworkers. There’s not much call for stoneworkers as most holders enlarge their quarters over the winter months. And masonry’s not strictly a minercraft skill. But no one else trains men to work stone. And all the dressed stone will have to be shipped south! I ask you, how will that be accomplished?” If he saw R’mart’s knowing look or the glances that F’lar and Lessa exchanged, he gave no notice. “One thing Aivas didn’t seem to have in those exhaustive files of his was much about improvements in quarrying and masonry.” Unexpectedly, a grin spread across Nicat’s round face with its fringe of white hair.

“Really? Well, it’s almost a relief to find out he wasn’t infallible,” F’lar remarked at his driest. “Do you have men trained for stonework?”

“Actually, we’re training some right now,” Nicat said, screwing his face up and sighing. “That sculptor
fellow, Edwinrus, has a couple of young sons and has taken on a few more likely lads. He’s put aside some artistic commissions to give me a hand. I could use half again as many apprentices in that trade and the same number in mining, what with Hamian wanting more and more trained miners down at Karachi. He’ll have to take apprentices and train them up as he wants them. I even walked those caves of Laudey’s to see if there were any men able-bodied enough for that sort of work.”

“Laudey still has people in the caves?” Lessa asked in surprise. “I thought they all got put to work during the special projects.”

“Some of those projects have ended, you know,” Nicat remarked. “So he got some of the Holdless back, but mainly it’s the old and infirm who’re in those caves. However, Larad says he could free up some of those prisoners,” Nicat continued, “the ones whom he feels have served sufficient time and could be more profitably used elsewhere. At least they’re accustomed to stonework.”

“In point of fact, it’s the dearth of suitable stone that curtails settling in some of the open plains areas,” Talmor said, shuffling around his various maps and reports.

“Those areas will just have to wait until after the Pass is over,” F’lar said, dismissing that consideration. “Sometimes I wonder why we let ourselves get talked into being responsible for the development of the Southern Continent …”

“Because Weyrleaders are the only ones who could be entrusted with such a responsibility,” Fandarel bellowed at the same moment Master Nicat rose half out
of his chair to say much the same thing. They regarded each other, each taken aback by the other’s uncharacteristic vehemence.

G’dened and R’mart grinned.

“With the Harper Hall as
your
consciences,” Talmor added in a mild tone, “and the fervent agreement of all the Lord Holders and Mastercrafts-men …”

“With the notable exception of Toric,” Lessa said, sardonically cocking one eyebrow.

“Be that as it may,” F’lar went on, with a nod of gratitude to the two Mastercraftsmen, “dragonriders are stretched, too, between Threadfalls all over the world, mapping, and conveying. Shortly, we’ll have to open a Weyr in the Honshu area …”

“Surely not at Honshu Weyrhold,” Fandarel said.

“Not likely,” F’lar said with a laugh, glancing at Lessa to forestall a terse comment from her as well. “But we will need stone for a decent Weyrhall for that, as we haven’t been able to locate any suitable craters down south.”

“You do remember, don’t you, your promise to T’bor?” R’mart said, leaning toward F’lar and smiling lopsidedly.

“That he could turn over the Weyrleadership of High Reaches and go back south?” F’lar nodded his head. “When this Pass is over, he can do what he pleases.”

“When this Pass is over …” Nicat said wistfully on a long sigh.

A respectfiil silence followed.

“By the bye, Master Fandarel,” R’mart said, snagging one of the maps out of the array on the table and
sliding it to the smith, “we located that ridge for you, the one which is indicated as a source of iron on the Ancients’ spatial map.”

“Where?” Instantly alert, Fandarel reached his long arm across the table to retrieve the paper.

“There, in those foothills. We’ve staked and flagged it to be recognized. Good site, actually, a fine river nearby. You might consider setting up another Hall down there.” R’mart was half teasing, knowing how devoted Master Fandarel was to the main crafthall site in Telgar.

“We may indeed have to consider that in due course,” Fandarel said, his eyes scanning the map while one huge index finger followed the course of the river. “It wouldn’t be fair to have all the main crafthalls in the North. Give some of my good Masters a chance to show their abilities.”

“Make it easier to mine and process the ore at the same site,” Master Nicat said, rising to peer over Fandarel’s shoulder at the map. “See any black-stone?”

“Didn’t look for it, Master Nicat, but we can,” R’mart replied. “Nice stretch of trees nearby. And a sweet little valley where folks could farm.”

“Ah, the possibilities are endless now, are they not?” Nicat said with great satisfaction.

“Did we but have the trained men and women,” Fandarel added wistfully.

“Well,” F’lar began, “it is obvious that we can proceed no faster than we are doing in the matter of southern settlements, no matter what accusations are made.”

“We shall do our best to counter those,” Fandarel
said, looking at Nicat, who nodded vigorous accord. “We shall also do our best to indicate that it is a lack of trained personnel that holds the whole process up. I shall so inform my Craft, Masters, journeyfolk, and apprentices.” He looked at Master Nicat, who hastily added that he would do likewise.

“When will more of these be available?” F’lar asked, holding up one of the com devices.

“I was thinking of the most efficient way of doing that.” Now Fandarel turned to Master Nicat. “Those elderly and infirm at Igen, do they have their wits about them and the use of their fingers?”

Nicat frowned down at his fingertips, splayed out on the stone table. “Aye, I believe they do.”

“Good then. That is all that is really needed, sight and ten fingers. We’ve already put some of our elderlies to work and they are glad of the marks in their hands, I can tell you.”

“Besides which, it’s an efficient use of available personnel, isn’t it?” Lessa commented, managing to keep a straight face, though Talmor took a fit of coughing and R’mart and G’dened looked everywhere except at her or the smith.

“I shall leave this one with you, F’lar, Lessa,” Fandarel said, formally bowing to make the presentation. “It will reach me at the Smithcrafthall should you need to speak with me.”

“Quite useful, I assure you,” Nicat answered. “I don’t know how I’ve managed without it.”

F’lar escorted the two Mastercraftsmen out of the Council Room. Then Lessa allowed herself the luxury of a chuckle while the others smiled broadly.
When F’lar returned, he was grinning as well, but he rubbed his hands together.

“We’ll just wind this meeting up, shall we?”

“Not much more to say, is there?” Talmor said. “And we thought we were busy doing Aivas’s bidding!”

“I wonder if he knew just how much he was altering our whole lives,” Lessa said, making a sweeping movement with one arm.

“Quite likely he did,” R’mart said sardonically, “which is why he quit on us before we could disconnect him, or whatever it is one does with a machine.”

“He could at least have stayed around until we were well into the transition,” Lessa said, sounding slightly mutinous.

“And bear your reproaches, my dear?” F’lar asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked at his weyrmate.

Lessa gave a sniff.

“He knew at least one person would make efficient and effective use of the Library,” Talmor said, grinning.

“Enough out of you, Harper,” Lessa said with mock astringency. “Did you find
anywhere
, R’mart, remotely resembling a Weyr possibility?”

“Not a cave nor a crater we could use among any of those hills,” R’mart said with disgust.

“Plenty of stone for Master Nicat, though,” G’dened said.

Tamor continued making his notations on the borders of the charts and sighing occasionally.

“Now, here I have no special comments,” he said, turning the edge of the map toward R’mart.

“That’s because there is nothing special to comment on, More hills, valleys, rivers, rocks.”

“Ah, but rocks can be useful,” Talmor said, and made the appropriate notation.

“When the Pass is over …”

It was an hour or more before the Weyrleaders had finished their discussions of the newly charted lands and the visitors left.

“I’ll be so glad when we’ve got the entire continent mapped out,” she said, sighing.

“I doubt we’ll have discovered all we need to know about for the time being … until we have enough folks to distribute,” F’lar said, gathering her slight body to his with one arm as they made their way into Ramoth’s weyr, The great gold dragon was asleep, her nostrils twitching a bit and her foreleg claws scrabbling against her stone bed as her dream caused her to open and close them. “Is she hungry?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Lessa said. “She hunted well earlier this sevenday below Landing. The southern beasts are better-tasting.”

“All the fuss is worth the trouble, Lessa,” F’lar reminded her. “We shan’t disabuse the trust that’s been placed in us to dispense the land impartially. And dragonriders will have their own stakes in the Southern Continent. We’ll never be beholden to Halls or Holds again.”

Lessa knew that he had never forgotten Benden’s situation at the end of the Last Interval, when only three holds had tithed to the lone Weyr and dragonriders had been reduced to conditions no small Holder would have endured. It was ironic that, in
finding the solution to the recurring problem of Thread, they had also ended the reason for their privileges. Aivas had reassured them on one point: the dragons would not just cease to mate because the orbit of the Red Star had been disrupted. They were as established a species on Pern as the dolphins and would continue to prosper, though perhaps not in the same large numbers. A shallow mating flight would keep the clutches small It required more control of both queen and bronze but it was a feasible deterrent Commonly in Intervals, the queens did not rise as often anyway.