The Dolphins of Pern (6 page)

The landing was achieved with great ease, however, and Alemi wasn’t even bumped about as the dragon backwinged and settled to the firm surface in front of the Admin Building, which housed Aivas.

Alemi knew the story of its discovery—it had been a harper’s tale at many a gather. It had been one of the last of the Ancients’ buildings to be excavated, a task undertaken by Mastersmith Jancis, Journeyman Harper Piemur, and Lord Jaxom—on a whim, it was said. And Ruth had helped. Then they had found the curiously reinforced end of the building, which had suggested that something special had been carefully protected … and discovered the Artificial Intelligence Voice-Address System left by the first settlers on Pern: an intelligence that could tell them much of the first years of human habitation on this planet, and much about Thread. Aivas, as the intelligence preferred to be called, had also promised to help destroy the menace of Thread forever.

Of course, the building had been extended, since Aivas was teaching so much of the lost knowledge of every craft Alemi wasn’t sure how this Aivas could teach so much and to so many. He was more than pleased that he would have a special interview with the intelligence,

Dismounting from the young bronze, Alemi remembered to thank them both for the conveyance.

“We’re to wait and take you back, Master Alemi,” T’lion said. Then, glancing over his shoulder to see other dragons spiraling down to land, he hastily added, “We’ll be up on the ridge where the others are waiting.” He pointed in the right direction. “Give us a wave.”

The bronze was already lifting himself out of the way of those wanting to land, and the boy’s words were carried away in the breeze. Alemi waved his hand to show that he’d heard. Then he turned to the entrance of the Admin Building. Just inside the door was a desk at which sat no lesser a personage than Robinton, the Masterharper of Pern. Alemi gawked a bit, but Robinton smiled a warm welcome, rising from his table to hold out his hand to the young Masterfishman.

“Ah, Master Alemi, how good to see you. And on such an errand. You and young Readis were so fortunate to be rescued in that extraordinary fashion.”

“You know about it?” Alemi was amazed. But then, the Masterharper, even if he was now retired from active duty, had a way of “knowing” a great deal that went on all around Pern.

“Of course I do,” Robinton said emphatically.
“Lord Jaxom himself told me. But why isn’t young Readis with you?”

“Oh, yes, well, his mother decided that she doesn’t want him involved just yet. He’s only a few months over seven Turns. She feels that’s just too young …” Alemi heard his own disagreement with that decision in his tone and wished he was better able at dissembling.

“I see. Well, Aramina might have reservations about associating with just a mere dolphin.” The Harper smiled sympathetically about maternal misgivings. “In any event, you’re here. Aivas has much to tell you, too, about the shipfish. He was delighted to know that they have prospered so and have remembered how to speak. If you’ll just come this way—” The Harper gestured to the left-hand corridor. “Have you been here before, Alemi? Yes, well, then you’ll see how much we’ve expanded,” he continued as they made their way past rooms occupied by small groups intent on screens to a smaller room at the end. “Here.” He stepped aside to let Alemi enter.

“Aivas is in here, too?” the Masterfishman said, rotating on one heel as he looked about a room that held only chairs of the same ancients’ design as the two Alemi had acquired for his hold. Then his eyes stopped at the blank screen centered in the long outside wall. A little red light blinked in its corner.

“Good morning. Masterfishman Alemi. It is good to see you again,” said a deep bass voice.

“He remembered me? I never even spoke to him the first time.”

Master Robinton chuckled. “He remembers everyone and everything.” And he left.

The screen brightened, and an active scene of shipfish plunging and diving filled the space.

“Were there not to be two attending this meeting? Yourself and your young companion during the incident?”

“Yes, well,” Alemi said, and explained Aramina’s hesitations. They sounded even weaker than ever in the presence of such an august audience.

“Mothers are reputed to know what is best for their offspring,” Aivas said and Alemi did not suspect a “machine” of irony. “The young are able to learn language skills much more quickly, having fewer inhibitions. It would have been useful to have a younger student. To the discussion at hand: It was good to learn that the dolphins have not forgotten their duties during the long years—Turns—that have passed. Please be seated, Master Alemi. The input of your experience with the dolphins would help update that apparently overlooked segment of the original colonizing team.”

Struggling to absorb the concept that the dolphins, too, had been original colonists on this world, Alemi stumbled into the nearest chair and seated himself, eyes glued to the scene. There was something … not quite … right about the scene he was viewing. The dolphins were correct but—and then the concept of seeing moving pictures of living creatures staggered him.

“How do you do that?” he asked. In the previous meeting the screen had only shown maps, or what Aivas had called “sonar” readings, not these glimpses
of dolphins, doing what he had observed them doing, disporting in the seas, most of his life.

“This is but one of the many tapes available to this facility,” the Aivas said. “Moving pictures were an integral part of the information services of your ancestors’ culture.”

“Oh!” Alemi was fascinated by dolphin antics. “I’ve seen them do that! That’s—that’s exactly what the shipfish do!” he said excitedly as the scene shifted to the creatures escorting a ship, diving along its forward wake.

“This tape was taken more than twenty-five hundred of your Turns in the past,” Aivas said in a gently instructive tone.

“But—but they haven’t changed!”

“Evolutionary changes take much longer than twenty-five hundred Turns, Master Alemi, and zoologists are of the opinion that this species has gone through several changes in the developmental path to this present form.”

“Including speaking?” Alemi blurted out.

“The dolphins which accompanied the colonists to Pern had been treated with mentasynth to enhance their empathic abilities and to assist them in learning human speech. It was reported that you heard them speak understandable words?”

“Readis and I both heard them speak.” Alemi chuckled. “Readis was far more credulous than I,” he admitted ruefully.

“The boy was considered too young to attend.”

“Yes,” Alemi agreed with a sigh. “I’ll tell him you asked.”

There was a brief pause. “As you wish. It is reassoring
to know that dolphins have not forgotten either speech or their duties.”

“Duties?”

“One of their prime functions was to perform sea rescue operations.”

“Well, they not only saved Readis and me, but since then, every crewman in my hold has some tale to relate about doll-fins rescuing folks.”

“Elucidate, please.”

“You mean, explain?”

“Yes, if you please.”

“For a machine, you’re very polite,” Alemi said, trying to master his awe for this amazing creation of the ancients.

“Courtesy is essential in all dealings with humans.”

“Especially between humans,” Alemi added drolly.

“Would you be kind enough to detail your recent personal experience with the dolphins?”

“Of course, although really you should have had Readis tell you. He’s got it all down pat.”

“So Lord Jaxom said.”

“You’ve a sense of humor?”

“Not as you know it. Relate your experience.”

“I’m not harper trained …”

“You
were
there. Your firsthand account will be greatly appreciated.”

Though there was no hint of censure or impatience in Aivas’s tone, Alemi obeyed. To his own amusement, he found himself repeating phrases that Readis had used in describing the adventure. The boy did have a gift for the dramatic. He must remind Jayge to
apply for a harper at Paradise River Hold. Fleetingly he regretted Aramina’s decision for Readis.

“They called themselves ‘mam’ls,’” Alemi added as he concluded the actual events. “Not fish.”

“They are,” Aivas said in an uncontradictable tone, “mammals.” He emphasized the correct pronunciation.

“What, then, are mammals?”

“Mammals—m-a-m-m-a-l-s—are life-forms that bear live young and suckle them.”

“In the seas?” Alemi demanded incredulously.

The picture on the screen altered to one of swirling waters and tails, and suddenly Alemi was conscious that he was watching the birth of a shipfish. He gasped as the tiny creature emerged from its mother’s body and then was assisted by two other shipfish to the surface.

“As you see, oxygen is important and essential to the dolphins as to all sea-living mammals,” Aivas remarked.

The next scene showed the little creature suckling from its mother’s teat.

“On Earth,” Aivas continued, “there were many mammalian life-forms living in the sea, but only the dolphins, of the family Delphinidae, the bottle-nosed variation, the
tursiops tursio
, were transported from Earth to Pern. By the time this facility was put on hold, they had already multiplied and prospered well in the Pernese waters. The volume of sea available on this planet was the reason for including the dolphins in the colonial roster. It is good to know that they have survived and seem to be in great numbers now. A census is being taken of pod sightings. Estimates
of populations have not been completed, since they seem to have developed a migratory culture.”

Through this brief synopsis, the screen showed the wondering seaman more dolphins with young calves.

“That’s nowhere on Pern,” Alemi said, pointing to the screen, suddenly realizing what was “wrong” with the pictures, “at least that I’ve ever seen,” he added.

“A keen observation, Master Alemi, for this footage was taken on Earth in an area called the Florida Keys. These are the ancestors of your dolphins in their natural habitat. I shall now play scenes of how those dolphins worked with their human partners, called dolphineers.”

“Doll-fin ears?” Alemi exclaimed, slapping his knee with one hand as he saw men and women working with the dolphins, both undersea and being propelled across the surface of the water alongside their unlikely mounts. “Like dragons and their riders?”

“Not as close a bond as I am told that is. There is no ceremony similar to Impression as dragons and riders undergo. The association between humans and dolphins was of mutual convenience and consent, not lifelong, though congenial and effective.

“Certain groups of dolphins—there were more than twenty varieties of the species known on Earth—agreed to the mentasynth treatment in order to form a close working partnership with humans. Those that came on the spaceships with the colonists, twenty-four in number, were experienced in such matters and undertook to explore the oceans and provide certain services to the humans. Up until the eruption of Mounts Picchu and Garben, a high standard
of communication was possible between humans and dolphins.”

“If they like to work with humans, then as a sea captain I’d like to work with them, if I could,” Alemi said. “I owe them my life—and others have. Readis was highly amused that the … d-dol … phins”—he made an effort to say those syllables as one word—“had such good manners.”

“Courtesy has been observed in the interactions of many species and not necessarily in vocal expression. Other abstract concepts, however, require semantics and suitable attitudes and postures adapted to convey cultural differences.”

“What would I have to learn to talk to dolphins?” Alemi was pleased to hear how firmly the word came out.

“There has been a linguistic shift over the centuries,” Aivas began, “but both species can adapt to the changes. Here is an example of humans interacting with dolphins.”

A scene unrolled in which a human and a dolphin were checking fish traps of some kind. The human wore some sort of apparatus on his back and a short-sleeved, short-legged black garment with brilliant yellow stripes. The picture was as fresh as if Alemi were at a window looking out onto the lagoon. He leaned forward, not wishing to miss a single detail.

Alemi watched, fascinated, murmuring to himself phrases exchanged between the pair. The dolphin towed the man, who gripped the dorsal fin, among the traps, inspecting the line. Briefly he wondered what his reactionary father would say to the idea that shipfish could talk.

“How do you get them to talk to you, Aivas?”

“It is frequently a matter of record, mentioned by numerous dolphineers, that getting the mammals to stop talking was considered more of a problem.”

“Really?” Alemi was delighted.

“Dolphins apparently have an unusual ability to delay ‘work’ in favor of ‘games.’”

The screen shifted to a new picture and Aivas recognized Monaco Bay—but the bay as he had never seen it: populated with sailing craft of many sizes and types, with vehicles zooming about in the sky like squat, rigid, ungraceful dragons. A huge wharf dominated the farther tip of the Monaco Bay crescent, and then he was looking at a solid plinth, a large bell atop it.

“I’ve seen that,” Alemi exclaimed, pointing to the bell. “It was hauled up from the seafloor.”

“Yes. It is being scaled of the encrustations. This bell was rung by dolphins to summon humans when they had messages to deliver, and by humans to summon the dolphins.”

“The dolphins summoned humans?” Alemi was delighted by the notion. “D’you think they would respond to a bell now?”

“It is recommended that you use that means of convening them,” said Aivas. “It would be interesting to see if current dolphins would recognize old imperatives. The printed sheets are summaries of files on the subject of dolphins and dolphineers. They also contain the hand signals which the dolphineers used to communicate underwater—which you might find useful—as well as a vocabulary list in the dolphin lexicon.”

Suddenly thin sheets of the new writing material that the Masterwoodsman Bendarek had been making began to extrude from a slot at the base of the screen.