The Skies of Pern (20 page)

“He’d’ve been off watch at dawn,” F’lessan said with a grimace. “Two hours ago at least.”

“Wouldn’t he have seen such a phenomenon?” Lessa asked,
gesturing overhead. Just as it seemed the splashings were gone, a fresh burst exploded into the predawn sky. “It just couldn’t appear out of nowhere, could it?”

“There have been reports of other such things,” F’nor said, dismissively enough to reassure Brekke, who was shivering beside him. “Let’s go back inside.”

“It’ll go away because it isn’t being watched?” Brekke asked, regarding him with an affectionate smile, but she went with him.

“Well, I’ll find out what
Yoko
thinks it is,” F’lessan said. Summoning Golanth from his ledge, he didn’t take his eyes off the long ribbons in the sky as he shrugged into the riding gear S’lan had brought him and crammed on his helmet. “Thanks, son.”

“It’s not going to fall on the Weyr,” S’lan asked, gulping nervously, “is it?”

“Mnementh says not.” F’lar gave his grandson a reassuring look. “Go finish your breakfast, young S’lan.”

Obediently the brown rider moved away.

“I’d like to see what
Yoko
reports, F’lar,” F’lessan murmured. “It may just be skimming the atmosphere, which is what’s causing all the bright trails.”

“But you’re not sure,” Lessa said, craning her head around to look at her tall son’s face.

“No, but there’s a great deal about the skies of Pern that I don’t know,” he admitted with one of his ingenuous smiles.

“I thought you were using those fancy new binoculars you got from Jancis,” she said.

“So I am, Lessa, so I am,” he agreed as Golanth dropped elegantly to the floor of the Bowl just beyond the riders, “but they’re at Honshu! So we’ll go to Landing, where I can learn what this is all about.” With an agile leap, he vaulted to the back of his bronze.

Lessa blinked. “Oh! Talina’s Arwith says that T’gellan is going to Landing, too.”

“I’m away. Golanth will inform Ramoth!” He raised his hand in farewell and the big bronze ran a few steps to launch himself and abruptly disappeared.

“You must have a word with him,” Lessa said under her breath to her weyrmate, scowling.

“Why?”

“He shouldn’t take off that quickly and scarcely a wing’s span above the ground. He’s setting a bad example for young riders.”

F’lar grinned, surreptitiously looking around. “No young riders nearby and it’s still too dark for him to have been seen.”

Lessa glared up at him. “I doubt he checked. For all we know, S’lan may have seen. You know how he tries to be like his father.”

“Let’s finish our breakfast. Now, while we’ve a chance.”

“With that thing still glowering overhead?”

“Why not? We’ve seen the displays. If it starts to drop on us, we’re safer in the Lower Cavern than out here. And it’s cold.”

With that, Lessa agreed and, with one last look at yet another trio of bright flarings, she huddled close against his warmth on their way back inside.

Drum messages from Telgar Hold had roused Sebell. Beside him, Menolly groaned.

“Now what?”

“ ‘Shooting stars, unexpected, confirm.’ Confirm what?” Sebell said, hauling his heavy robe from the chair.

“At this hour? Couldn’t it wait until morning?” Menolly complained sleepily.

“Probably,” Sebell replied, tying the belt tightly to keep out the cold. “But Larad’s not generally nervous.” He went to the window of their bedroom. He couldn’t see anything in the east, as the cliffs around Fort Hold occluded his view. He did see a light come on up at the Hold.

Groghe! He said the name to himself. The old Lord did not sleep well at night, so he’d hear any drum message and want a full report. Sebell sighed.

“Go back to sleep, Menolly,” he said softly and watched her, with the deep and abiding affection he had for his extraordinarily talented mate, as she cuddled into the warm spot he had just left. He picked up the hand light, found his fleece-lined house shoes, and made his way through their apartment, down the
stairs. Ronchin, who was on duty in the Hall, was turning on more lights. He pointed out the window and Sebell saw a figure running down the steps of the Hold, toward the short tunnel that linked the Hold with the Hall. Haligon, probably, Groghe’s usual messenger. He was not particularly surprised to see a dragon settle in the big forecourt of the Harper Hall. He gestured for Ronchin to throw up the bar on the heavy door and open one leaf for their visitors.

“Ruth and Jaxom called me to Ruatha,” N’ton said urgently. “There’s a meteor or a comet in the east, showering stuff. Had a look at it through those binoculars of Jaxom’s. It isn’t a late Ghost and, for all it’s in the east, it most certainly is not a return of the Red Star.”

“Red Star?” Haligon, just entering the Hall, repeated that with scornful incredulity. “Couldn’t be. Father thinks the Abominators are up to something.”

“Not this,” N’ton said, shaking his head. “I spoke with Sharra, as Jaxom and Ruth had gone straight to Landing. There are reports of seeing these shooting flares from Telgar, Benden, Cove, and Landing. There’ll be more messages in, Sebell, so I thought you ought to be aware.”

“Then what is it?” Haligon asked, straightening hurriedly donned clothes and trying to look more alert than cold and sleepy.

“That’s what we’ll have to find out,” Sebell said. He motioned them to go into his office. “Bring us some klah, Ronchin, will you? I’m sure the Harper Hall will be the first to know what’s going to keep us up all night.” He stirred up the fire and threw more black stone on it.

“It has nothing to do with Abominators, does it?” Haligon asked. “I told Father it couldn’t have.”

“How?” N’ton asked with some exasperation. Lord Groghe had been seeing Abominators in anything unusual. He strode to the big map of Pern hanging on the wall and pointed as he explained. “Watchrider at Telgar saw it and at the same time it appeared to be directly overhead at Benden, visible from Cove Hold and Landing. That would make it very high up, probably above
the atmosphere. I doubt even Aivas could have rigged such a display over such an immense distance. So tell Lord Groghe to discard any notion of an Abominator scheme. Ramoth said Golanth and F’lessan have gone to Landing. They’ll report directly to her. We’ll know as soon as she does.”

Haligon’s face was thoughtful, obviously trying to figure out what to say to allay his father’s alarm when Menolly, well wrapped in a robe, arrived with a tray of steaming cups of klah.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Sebell said.

“You didn’t but Haligon’s boots did,” and she gave the Holder a mock-angry scowl as she passed cups around. “You’re very good to Lord Groghe, you know,” she added in quiet approval.

“Then it has to have come from beyond Pern,” Sebell said. “Abominators cannot have contrived that.”

“Whatever it is,” Menolly said cheerfully, handing Haligon his cup of klah, “the Abominators will be sure that somehow Aivas arranged it Turns ago.”

“How?”
demanded the three men in chorus.

She shrugged. “Or maybe the Red Star is on its way back? You know how many people feel that we should never have tampered with it in the first place.”

Fairs of fire-lizards blanketed the air above Landing as F’lessan arrived. They were volatile at any time, and, on this morning, were exceedingly raucous and flying in intricate acrobatic displays, screaming in cacophonous descants. Their antics did not, however, obscure the next burst from the object in the sky. It amazed F’lessan that the phenomenon of a fireball, which could seem directly above Benden, could be visible in almost the same position here at Landing. It was brighter, which meant, he thought, that it was very bright indeed to be seen in daylight over Landing. And casting odd shadows, coming from the west, which was eerier. He hoped that
Yoko
would have noted the increase in its magnitude. Could it be a comet, swooping down so close to
Pern? Hopefully, he thought, on a hyperbolic orbit that would give everyone a beautiful display, a bad fright, and then disappear, still shedding part of its mass. Unusual! Most unusual! Exhilarating, too, in a scary way!

He saw more dragons emerge from
between
and recognized Monarth, with green Path on his right. So Monaco Bay was curious, too. A host more of dragons appeared. These were occluding his view of the fireball, clearly visible on the northeastern horizon. He shouldn’t waste any time getting to the Interface office and
Yoko
’s screens. He wondered how long the old ship’s telemetry had been monitoring it. This would be much more interesting than astronomy accounts of things that had happened a long time in the past.

Put me down, Golly
.

There’re too many people
. Golanth said, backwinging strongly as he was unable to find enough space in the dense swarm of people in front of Admin, nervous fire-lizards dipping and flitting above them.

They’ll move
. F’lessan
had
to see the thing, the fireball, whatever it was, land.

They’ve nowhere to move to
, Golanth told him.

Cursing under his breath, F’lessan examined the mass of heads and bodies, the ring of guards around the door preventing entry. It would take time to push through that crowd and he was boiling with eagerness to see
Yoko
’s telemetry reports.

Land on the roof
, he told his dragon.

But I’m heavy
.

Just get me close enough to drop on it
. F’lessan swung his right leg over the last neck ridge, slightly swaying with Golanth’s maneuvering to get directly over the roof. Golanth raised his foreleg. This was an exercise rider and dragon had perfected in drill for use when the dragon couldn’t land and the rider had to reach the ground. F’lessan smoothly dropped to the sturdy forearm, his feet dangling in the air as he let his hands slide down to Golanth’s paw, hanging on to the talons.

Right over the entrance
, F’lessan added.
I’ll just drop to the ground. Someone’ll break my fall
.

His right foot connected with something solid. He dropped to
all fours on the roof, sliding down backward until his feet caught on the drain. Slipped on that and slithered until his knees lodged briefly in the rain gully.

“Drop, dragonrider,” someone below him shouted. “We’ll catch you.”

Hands tugged at the toes of his boot. He went limp, committed to the downward fall. Instantly his ankles were caught, then hands fastened on his knees, letting him down, supporting his thighs. In the next moment he was on his feet, being congratulated and enthusiastically thumped for the success of his daring stunt.

Made it
, he said somewhat smugly to Golanth who was hovering above.

“Thanks! Thanks, thanks!” he said, skewing around to those behind him and then turned to the door. “Benden Weyr’s orders,” he said to the two guards who were preventing anyone from entering. The crowd behind was bombarding him with a babble of questions. “I’m F’lessan. Lemme in,” he shouted above the tumult.

They did, immediately resuming their defensive postures. F’lessan strode forward, wondering how much time that stunt had taken, opening his jacket and peeling the helmet off.

She’s here
, Golanth said.

Which she?
F’lessan’s tone was amused.

Both of them. She studies stars, you know
, Golanth added.
She’s shared night watches at Cove Hold
.

Then please inform Zaranth that F’lessan requires her rider’s assistance in the Interface office
.

F’lessan turned back to the door guards. “The Monaco Weyrleader’s on his way in.” He had to shout to be heard above the babble outside. “See that green rider Tai comes in, too, as quickly as possible.” Then to all the others shouting questions, he smiled and waved, saying “We’ll sort it all out and report to you shortly.”

Monarth said he saw how you got in, F’lessan
, and Golanth rumbled with amusement.
They’ll try it
.

Maybe Mirrim will break a leg
, F’lessan muttered, feeling uncharitable toward her. As he continued, he nodded in a blithe, unconcerned manner to a knot of anxious men and women at the other
end of the reception area and hurried down the right-hand hall to the
Yokohama
Interface offices.

At the end of that hall, the door to the Aivas chamber was open. He felt the usual grab at his throat when he saw the blank screen that had once given humans access to the most amazing intelligence on Pern. He swallowed the lump and turned left into the room where, seven Turns ago, he had learned how to build a computer.

There had been significant additions to the original office, of course, to deal with all the data sent down from the
Yokohama
, the one remaining colony ship. Ordinarily the office was pleasantly busy, people at the four banks of workstations that were arranged back-to-back in the center of the large room. Now an odd anticipatory silence dominated the room as all eyes were trained on the wall monitor, which F’lessan couldn’t see from the door.

“You can’t come—” began the burly door guard, whom F’lessan recognized as Tunge, one of the regular men. He skipped aside and explained with soft intensity. “Sorry, bronze rider, but everyone and his fire-lizard’s been trying to get in here since that thing in the sky was spotted.” Tunge was impressed, and scared.

F’lessan made a quick survey of those in the room; where was Wansor? Surely Lytol and D’ram had got him here so the phenomenon could be described to him?

“Master Wansor?” he murmured to Tunge.

“Oh, him.” With a quick grin, Tunge jerked his head back down the corridor. “Him ’n’ Lord Lytol ’n’ bronze rider D’ram are in the conference room. There’s a big screen there, too, you know, so they could tell him what information’s being processed.”

Directly across the room, one of the smaller monitors was blinking the legend PHO. F’lessan shook his head, trying to remember what the initials stood for—possibly hazardous object? Why had he assumed that the bright light was a comet? Below the title “Encounter Analysis” were eight columns, headed Estimated Time to Perigee, Distance, Velocity, Probability, Atmosphere Breakup, Impact Error Latitude, and Longitude. These were showing numbers that altered rapidly, either decreasing or, in the case of longitude, increasing. As F’lessan watched, the Estimated Time Perigee ticked over to 5800.