All The Weyrs of Pern

16

When Mirrim had come to collect Sharra for the trip up to the Yokohama to begin their own project, she had found Sharra still asleep.

"Sharra? We're to start this dissection business? Remember?" Mirrim said as Sharra groggily roused, plainly disoriented.

"You know about Lamoth and G'lanar?"

Mirrim wrinkled her nose. "I feel sorry for the dragon. Didn't know one would die of shame. You get dressed. I'll get you some klah."

As Sharra quickly dressed, she hoped that Mirrim's feelings would be shared by others. She found some reassurance in the knowledge that Mirrim would not necessarily side with Jaxom if she felt he was wrong.

"You'd better eat, too," the green rider said, returning with the klah. "And let's bring some food, fruit, and juice. I thought I'd faint with hunger during that last session Aivas put us through. Maybe he's sophisticated, but my stomach's not. It's real primitive. It likes to be filled at regular intervals."

Sharra smiled over the rim of her cup. That was Mirrim, talking up a storm to hide her real emotions. The death of any dragon for any reason upset all riders. Sharra just let her friend talk on. Then, with the klah stimulating her, she lent Mirrim a hand to pack provisions.

"No meatrolls!" Mirrim said with a dramatic shudder as Sharra reached into the cupboard for some. "I'll puke if I have to eat any more. Thank goodness Master Robinton likes proper bread and sliced meats and raw vegetables." They placed fresh fruit in the special quilted sacks that were a spin-off product from Hamian's search for space-suit paddings, and filled thermoses with cool drinks. "All right, then, let's lift."

"Isn't Brekke coming with us?" Sharra asked.

"No, F'nor's to do something aboard the Yokohama today." Mirrim grinned. "Probably the same thing Jaxom and T'gellan are doing, only I'm not to ask."

"Is it dangerous?" Sharra spoke casually, but she knew Jaxom well enough to know that he had not been telling her something the previous night-a something that had fretted Meer badly enough to send the little bronze skittering back to Ruatha in fright.

"I doubt it! Riders take good care of their dragons, and the reverse is true. The dragons are all very happy with themselves. I wouldn't let today worry me, Sharra," Mirrim said sympathetically.

More bolstered by Mirrim's breezy tone than by her words, Sharra followed her friend out to where Path awaited them, her .green hide gleaming with undertones of deep blue, her eyes dazzling in a green that exactly matched her hide.

"Does she do that often?" Sharra asked, pointing to eye and hide.

Mirrim flushed and ran a hand over the short front locks escaping the tieback. "Sometimes." Though she had a slight grin on her face, she wouldn't meet Sharra's eye. T'gellan was very good for Mirrim, Sharra thought.

When the two women arrived at the Yokohama, Mirrim left Path to amuse herself at the big window of the bridge, an occupation that would engross the green dragon for hours on end. Hefting their provisions, they made their way to the first level of the coldsleep storage facility where they, and the others Master Oldive had inducted to assist in the project, would attempt to understand the complexities of Thread. It was a project that would take far longer than any of them had estimated; it would occasionally cause them to wonder, over the next few weeks, why they had started such an investigation in the first place.

Whenever she could, Sharra cadged a ride back to Ruatha, to spend a few hours with her sons, whom she missed terribly when she had time to miss anything. She was relieved that Jaxom seemed so involved in his own project that he apparently didn't notice, or mind, her preoccupation. Sometimes, when she and the others found themselves working long hours, they stayed up on the Yokohama. Mirrim, of course, had to fly Threadfall, but the others had been released from any other duties for this important investigation.

Other times, when the team had to perform endless boring tasks, they grumbled about Aivas's obsession with the biology of the Thread organism, especially as once the primary task of shifting the Red Star's orbit was accomplished, Thread would be relegated to a myth with which to threaten disobedient children. But Aivas repeatedly insisted on the necessity of this research: how vital it was to understand the organism. They were all, including Oldive, so accustomed to obeying an Aivas directive that they complied.

Caselon, who now sported journeyman's knots as well as a unique pattern of tiny white scars on his tanned face, did comment about the irony of their grabbing a few hours' sleep in the very capsules that had brought their ancestors to Pern.

Skillfully guided by Aivas, they had sufficient successes to keep a high level of enthusiasm and interest, and to ignore discomforts. As Aivas often reminded them, the routines they were learning in dissecting the very complex organism that had menaced their world for centuries could be applied to other organisms. So the discipline was an end in itself.

Aivas did insist that they bring one ovoid up to "normal" temperatures in an airlock on the far side of the Yokohama, away from the sections that were normally being used. With no friction to destroy the tough outer layer, the ovoid remained inert.

"The friction, then," Aivas observed, "is essential to free the organism."

"Let's not free it," Caselon suggested drolly.

"It is as well," Master Oldive remarked thoughtfully, "to know that it is helpless."

"At our mercy," Sharra added, grinning.

"The observation will be continued," Aivas said.

"Do let us know if its condition changes," Sharra said.

Besides Caselon, Sharra, Mirrim, and Oldive, Brekke had volunteered and brought Tamara, the unsuccessful queen candidate, for the girl did not seem to mind monotonous tasks as much as others did. Two more healers, Sefal and Durack, and Manotti, a Smithcraft journeyman, completed their staff. There were times when they could have used twice the number, but all had been trained by Aivas and soon worked well together, smoothly and efficiently and in good spirits.

Initially they had the barest essentials for the task at hand. In the laboratory there were two cubicles. On the top of the work benches were disks that lit up with various kinds of light; Sefal, a dour but diligent sort, was fascinated by the effects obtainable during initial demonstrations. Most important for their purpose was the binocular stereo microscope that they all had to learn to use. The x and y dimensions caused no problem, but to learn to use the z proved to be far more difficult. To demonstrate, Aivas had Sharra take a hair from her head and tie knots in it under the microscope-not as easy as it sounded, as each of them learned when they tried it.

To one side of the microscope was a flush drawer with a sliding cover, in which some oddly truncated glass instrument's were found. These, Aivas told them, they had to learn to duplicate in order to do the dissection work required.

Two more workbenches and stools were found and dragged into the two cubicles, although that limited what free space there was.

While Sharra was tying knots in her hair using the binocular microscope, Aivas had Sefal and Manotti take apart one of the two refrigerators to obtain the parts necessary to bring the third one down to -150 degrees, the temperature they would need to work on the Thread organism. They might have to reduce its temperature to that of the Oort Cloud from whence it came, -270C or 3K absolute-but for the present, they could be content with maintaining the Thread's temperature in Pern orbit.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Manotti complained at one point as he gutted the dispensable refrigerator unit.

"That is not at issue," Aivas reassured him. "You need only follow instructions, for there isn't time to teach you cryogenics or refrigeration engineering. Do as you are told."

"I will, I will." Manotti said, grimacing as he very carefully removed a coil of tubing from the back of the first refrigerator. "Now where does this go?"

Aivas explained. When the transfer was completed and the machinery purred into activity, Manotti gave a whoop of triumph. Next, several of the cold capsules were altered to provide additional three-degree-absolute temperature storage for their specimens. For they needed many more than the original Thread ovoid that Farn had caught. The ovoids, as they shortly learned, came in a variety of sizes and in many conditions and, surprisingly, temperatures.

"You'd think one would be enough," Mirrim muttered to Sharra.

"Humans are not duplicates of each other," Aivas replied, though she had not intended to be overheard. She rolled her eyes at Sharra. "Patently the Thread organisms will also exhibit anomalies-ordinary deviations and quite likely mutations. They are as much a life-form as humans are, and they are in a very stressful environment so near Rukbat."

"That puts us neatly in our place," Oldive said with a grin.

Over the next few days, each team member had to learn to cope with the binocular microscope. Tying knots in a strand of hair gave way to carving flowers from splinters of wood and making paper flowers one millimeter across. Sharra proved the deftest of all, with Brekke and Mirrim not far behind her.

Caselon and Manotti, aided by Sefal and Durack, assembled a microforge with a flame two millimeters long, in which they heated the special glass Aivas had had Master Morilton mix, a glass with such a high lead content that even the amenable Morilton had protested. After Aivas told him that he could make knives with the high-lead mix sharp enough to cut bread, Morilton was at least curious enough to wish to experiment. So Aivas and Caselon got the unusual material.

Working carefully, Caselon pulled glass in the tiny flame, then took the resultant tube down to the 3K absolute in which the finished product would be used. When the first rod shattered, he reflexively jumped back despite the fact that he wore protective face and body shields. He glanced around sheepishly.

"A good habit to acquire, Caselon," Aivas remarked approvingly. "Try again."

When the fourth rod had shattered, Caselon was disgusted.

"The glass may not have been blended well enough, Caselon. Master Morilton supplied you with several different mixes. Use the one with the highest lead content. The instruments must be flexible, bending rather than shattering," Aivas said, projecting such a reassurance of eventual success that Caselon took head"

The fifth attempt bent slightly in the extreme cold but it did not shatter or crack.

"Now, using that mix, make more rods, which you will then fashion into knobs, spikes, and blades. Each of you will work your own tools, with Caselon as your instructor. To further dissect Thread, you will need what are ordinary tools, hacksaw, chisel, mallet, scalpel, but in miniature. Carborundum stone will sharpen edges."

Caselon's set was much admired by the others, though Mirrim thought them stubby inelegant implements. Consequently, when she, on her competitive mettle, made her set longer, she discovered that the flexibility of the length proved a disadvantage when the instruments were used.

"There is so much to do before we do anything," she complained. "We've wasted weeks on all this!"

"And you will spend weeks on the next procedures, Mirrim," Aivas said in a tone that chided her for impatience. "You have worked with great diligence and achieved feats of expertise that two Turns ago you would not have been capable of performing. Do not despair. You are about to embark on the truly interesting phase."

"What?" Mirrim asked bluntly.

"Dissecting Thread."

"But haven't we?" Sharra exclaimed, pointing to the cold capsule where the sectioned Threads were housed.

"You have cut the ovoids apart, but you have not truly examined them as minutely as you shortly will. Now, let us see if the waldoes still operate."

Caselon had been fascinated by these devices, which would allow them to work in a chamber maintained at the very low temperatures at which the Thread specimens were kept. He volunteered to be first, but Aivas chose Sharra, as she had already done more microscopic work than the journeyman. The apparatus was powered up, the specimen and the glass tools placed inside the waldo chamber, and the binocular microscope swung into position.

Resolutely, Sharra put her hands into the gloves and gave a little shudder.

"Cold!" she said, and attempted to move her fingers. "I thought you said these waldoes would follow my movements."

"Meters show that current is being taken into the mechanism," Caselon said, looking at the dials. "Here, let me."

Sharra withdrew her hands, but Caselon had no more luck than she.

"All right, Aivas," she said. "What do we do now?"

There was one of the brief but noticeable pauses they had all come to expect whenever Aivas conducted an internal search.

"The mechanism has been unused for twenty-five hundred years. It is not unreasonable to assume that maintenance might be required. A lubrication of the finger joints with silicone fluid may restore mobility."

"Silicone fluid?" Caselon asked.

Manotti raised his hand. "I know what he means. Aivas, is there a smith journeyman or master available?"

"I can send Tolly down for it," Mirrim suggested.

Manotti gave her a sardonic look. "He'll have a day's wait."

She groaned. "Then I'm going down," she said. "I feel the need of a swim and fresh food and some time with my mate."

"If we really are out of action until the silicone fluid is prepared, I ought to take the day off, too," Sharra said, thinking it had been an age since she'd had any time with her sons, or Jaxom.

Caselon grinned. "I'll stay here and manufacture some more tools. If I go down, someone's surely going to find work for me."

Aivas gracefully gave permission for the departures, but to those who remained, he immediately assigned other tasks.

Jaxom was as absorbed in his current tasks as Sharra was in hers, but these days he managed to spend more time at Ruatha, with the two boys, than she was able to. When she was home, he would listen to her descriptions of her projects-the failures and small successes-and encourage her.

"Aivas knows what he's doing, even if he doesn't devote much time to explanations," he told Sharra on more than one occasion. "He's done so much for us already, we simply have to take the enigmatic on faith and follow his instructions." Jaxom reminded himself to take his own advice.

To the chagrin of Lessa and F'lar, Aivas had insisted that Jaxom and Ruth be involved in every aspect of training the dragons and riders in extravehicular activity. According to Aivas, Jaxom and Ruth would also be the ones to guide all future excursions to the surface of the Red Star.

"Ruth is the younger dragon," Aivas said at its most diplomatic, "and has not suffered the strains and stresses of Threadfall-"

"I ride Fall with Fort Weyr all the time," Jaxom protested, as much to soothe Lessa as to make clear that he and Ruth did not fail of their primary obligation.

"No offense intended," Aivas said deferentially. "Be all as it is, it is not recommended that such a long journey be made without good reason."

"It's certainly no gather site," Lessa said.

"I do propose one more investigative trip," F'lar said, "taking along an observer to record the abyss in a permanent form. Every dragon and rider who is to help bring those engines there must have a vivid picture in his mind of where he's going."

"Apart from that necessary contingency," Aivas went on smoothly, "this undertaking should be recorded. There is nothing to match this endeavor of yours in the annals of any other world."

"Not that any other world is interested in our feats," Master Robinton said in a droll murmur.

"Mankind needs heroes," Aivas replied. "This project is of heroic stature."

F'lar gestured in disclaimer. "What has to be done can scarcely be termed heroic!"

Master Robinton shot the Weyrleader a long, thoughtful look.

"We have three engines to place," F'lar went on, ignoring the Harper's stare, "so the leaders of each group need to visit the place. I lead one..."

"Jaxom leads another," Aivas said crisply.

"All right," F'lar allowed.

"And I lead the third," Lessa said.

F'lar immediately objected. "You've risked yourself and Ramoth enough already."

Lessa's expression hardened. "If you go, I go. Ramoth's scarcely the only queen on Pern these days."

Suddenly F'lar's resistance dissolved, which surprised Jaxom but not Ruth.

Why not? Jaxom asked his dragon very privately.

Lessa would not risk Ramoth if she is in clutch, would she?

Jaxom hurriedly covered his mouth with his hand and turned a guffaw into a cough. No wonder F'lar hadn't pressed the point of Lessa's involvement in the event-and Mnementh would cooperate by getting Ramoth in clutch. F'lar had learned subtlety in handling his weyrmate!

"On this one admissible expedition," Jaxon said, "I think F'nor ought to be included."

F'lar gave Jaxom a friendly clout, grinning broadly. "I was about to insist that F'nor and Canth deserve to see the place."

"It's only fair," Robinton said, nodding wisely. "And Canth won't object to taking Perschar, who's got the best eye for detail. D'ram must be allowed this opportunity. And Tiroth can easily convey me," he added, daring protest.

"You can't be put at risk," Lessa said, rising to the bait.

"There'd be no risk involved, would there, Aivas?" Robinton said, shamelessly appealing to the one authority that Lessa would respect.

"The Harper would not be at risk."

"Tiroth's too old!" Lessa declared, glowering at Robinton.

"Tiroth is sturdier than most beasts his age, and the insight of both his rider and Master Robinton might prove invaluable," Aivas said.

It took a few moments for Lessa's irritation to subside, but the matter was soon settled. One more exploratory jump would be made to the Red Star's surface. The group would include D'ram, F'nor, N'ton, and Jaxom, with the dragons carrying Master Robinton, Fandarel, Perschar, and Sebell as observers. The discretion of these few was unassailable, so there would be no chance of careless talk generating more rumor and misconception than already abounded.

Lord Larad of Telgar and Lord Asgenar of Lemos asked Masterharper Sebell to meet them at Telgar Hold at his convenience.

Since Sebell appreciated the diplomatic tone, he dispatched his fire-lizard, Kimi, with a message that he would attend them an hour after the evening meal at Telgar.

"What do you suppose is bothering them?" Menolly asked when Sebell told her of the meeting.

"Rumors have abounded lately, pet," Sebell said with a sigh.

Menolly leaned back from the lectern on which she composed much of her music and, grinning slyly, cocked her head at her husband. "You mean the ones about Sharra and Jaxom, the ones about G'lanar and Lamoth, the latest Abomination mischief, or why the bronze dragons are looking so inordinately pleased with themselves?"

"I'd rather not have so much choice." He carefully tucked a vagrant strand of her long hair back into its clasp before bending to kiss her neck. "I hadn't heard of either Telgar or Lemos having any problems with vandalism, so it can't be that."

"Those who approve do so wholeheartedly, while those who are fearful, apprehensive, or downright skeptical scuttle around the edges and ruin what they haven't the wit to understand."

"It's our task to see that they do understand," Sebell said, gently remonstrating.

"But some don't want to," she replied in a rebellious tone, stretching both arms well above her head to ease her back. "I know the breed. Oh, how I know the breed! It's just too bad we can't leave them alone with their closed minds, but they're standing in our way forward."

"We are altering the fabric of their lives. That frightens people. It always has; it always will. Lytol's sent me some fascinating excerpts from Aivas's historical data. Fascinating. People don't change, love. React first, think later, regret at leisure."

He bent to kiss her cheek. "I've time to tell Robse and Olos a ,story before I go."

Menolly snaked an arm around his neck before he could straighten. "You are such a loving man," she said, and then kissed him again deeply before releasing her hold.

When he paused at the threshold to look back at her fondly, she was already bent to her composition. He smiled at the concentrated pose of her back, one shoulder angled up. She did love him, but he accepted the fact that he would have always two rivals-music and the Master. He had the same loves. With that thought, he went down the corridor to sing to his sons and to admire his daughter, Lemsia, who was too young for more than adoration.

Laradian, Larad's oldest son, was waiting for Sebell in the well-lit court when the obliging Fort Hold dragon deposited the harper at Telgar.

"My father and Lord Asgenar are in the small study, Masterharper," Laradian said formally, and then, relaxing, grinned a welcome at Sebell.

A fine fire was burning on the hearth angled in the corner of the pleasant room, the walls of which were hung with rich tapestries and framed sketches-probably by Perschar, if Sebell didn't mistake the skill-of the current Holder's offspring. Several heavy old wherry-hide chairs, sagging from the comfort they had given several generations of weary bodies, and the huge desk and table where the Lord Holders of Telgar had done their accounts for centuries, furnished the room adequately. Sebell immediately noticed the latest addition: a very good rendering, though considerably reduced in scale, of the Honshu mural.

"Hmmm, yes," Larad said, noticing his glance. "My daughter, Bonna, went along with Perschar's group and brought that back. Of course, she was under Master Perschar's eye all the time, but it's judged to be a fair representation."

"You'd be welcome to see the original," Sebell said, nodding to Asgenar, who was ensconced in one of the armchairs.

"What?" Larad asked, his pleasant face affecting a horrified expression. "And let rumor have it that I wanted the place for one of my sons?" He gestured for Sebell to take a chair and held up a wine bottle. "It's Benden." His grin was for the allusion to a harper preference for that wine; but his reference to rumor told Sebell that he was seriously concerned.

"I follow many of Master Robinton's traditions," Sebell said, accepting the generous goblet. He sipped judiciously and raised his brows in appreciation. "A 'sixteen?"

"Indeed, and it was Master Robinton who urged me to acquire as many skins as I could wheedle."

"So?" Sebell turned politely to the two Lord Holders. "Rumor bites?"

"I wish it were only rumor, Sebell," Larad said. He took a small message roll from his sleeve cuff and handed it to the harper. "This is far more serious and demands your urgent consideration. I know the sender well enough to heed his words."

After a glance at the message, Sebell shot out of the comfortable chair, seething with anger and swearing blackly." 'I have good reason to believe that Masterharper Robinton may be abducted to force those at Landing to destroy what they call the Abomination.' " Sebell was consumed with outrage. "Hazard the Masterharper! Ransom him for the destruction of Aivasl"

Outrage gave way to panic. "Who is this Brestolli who signs the note?"

"He's a wagonmaster. We both know him." Larad gestured toward Asgenar, who nodded earnestly. "He wouldn't send a false alarm. Actually, it was delivered by his fire-lizard to his employer, Trader Nurevin, who's here now. Nurevin brought it straight to me, leaving his train a day's trip out. He said that he'd had to leave Brestolli at Bitra with a broken leg and cracked ribs from a wagon accident."

"Nurevin's just outside. I'll ask him in," Asgenar said, and slipped out of the room.

Larad gave a wry smile. "Nurevin felt you would heed this message more if we presented it to you."

"He'd need no one vouching for him to me," Sebell said, rereading the message. "This has the ring of truth. Nothing Bitra initiates surprises me."

"Then you also know that your harpers at Bitra Hold have been put in quarantine for a virulent disease?"

"The Bitran euphemism for 'reporting truth'?" Sebell asked. He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture of exasperation. "We haven't heard from them recently by the usual route. I should have sent at least one who had a fire-lizard."

"Our Master Celewis can mount a rescue mission, if you'd like," Larad suggested.

"If that can be done without jeopardizing Brestolli," Sebell replied.

Larad raised his eyebrows arid grinned slyly. "Surely you know Celewis's abilities..."

"Indeed I do," Sebell said with an answering grin.

"Then you may be certain that he'll be adroit in the matter."

Nurevin came in just then, preceding Asgenar.

"I've not had occasion to pass time with you, Trader Nurevin," Sebell said, smiling as he extended his hand and returned the strong pressure given. "But I can tell you that the Harper Hall is more than grateful to you for passing this message."

"Brestolli's not the sort makes things up for mischief, Masterharper," Nurevin said, cocking his head to emphasize his opinion. He was a swarthy man of medium height, with grizzled hair worn in a long plait that had recently been neatly redone. His clothing was of excellent quality but road-worn. "So I knew I'd best get it to someone who could see it was handled proper.

I hated to leave him in Bitra Hold, but he'd broke his leg in three places, mangled his arm, and cracked some ribs when a cart overturned. Caught a wheel on uneven flags in Bitra Court. Healer said he couldn't be moved, so I paid the brewer both good marks and trade goods to tend him. Brestolli's one to keep his eyes and ears open, despite he talks such a streak you wouldn't think he'd hear for the constant sound of his own voice. But if he's heard what that message says he heard, then he's heard it. Make no mistake about that. I wouldn't want it said we didn't give warning when there're them what'd harm good Master Robinton. No, I wouldn't."

Larad offered him a goblet of Benden wine, and Nurevin's eyes lit up with appreciation after his first sip.

"You honor me, Lord Larad."

"Telgar is in your debt, Trader Nurevin."

"Not just Telgar, Trader Nurevin," Sebell added solemnly as he tilted his glass to him and drank ceremoniously. Nurevin flushed at such courtesy.

Sebell called to Kimi, who had been visiting outside with Telgar Hold's fair. Silently, Larad proferred writing materials and a message tube.

"I'm sending this to Lytol, who will take appropriate measures," Sebell said after penning some quick lines. Kimi extended her leg for him to attach the capsule, knowing exactly what was required of her. "Kimi, take this to Lytol, in Cove Hold, where our Master fives! Where Zair lives. Yes?"

Kimi had listened intently, cocking her head this way and that, her eyes whirling with noticeable increase in speed. She gave one chirp and disappeared.

"Forewarned is forearmed, Trader Nurevin. Has Brestolli's fire-lizard returned to him?"

"Yes. It's only a blue, but he's got it well trained. I can send my queen if you need more information. I've been keeping in touch with Brestolli to be sure he's well tended." Nurevin winked and grinned. "Bitrans need me more'n I need them, since they're so hard to deal with. I'm the only trader who does their route in these parlous times. So I've an edge on 'em, so to speak." He paused, his expression grim. "Did Lord Larad tell you about your harpers?" When Sebell nodded he went on. "That was done a-purpose, or I'll be scored next Fall!"

"When a harper is silenced, all men should listen harder," Sebell said.

Nurevin nodded solemnly. "I heard some other stuff whilst I was at Bitra..." He hesitated.

"Be easy, man," Larad encouraged him. "There's not much a harper doesn't hear sooner or later. And, if it's along the lines of Brestolli's message, perhaps Master Sebell'd better hear it from you."

"Well, it's them rumors." Nurevin paused again, obviously not happy to utter them, but by gesture and expression, all three men encouraged him to speak. "It's said that Lord Jaxom and that white dragon of his killed G'lanar and Lamoth-deliberate."

"Shards! How could anyone repeat such a foul slander?" Asgenar asked, incensed.

"Oh, there've been worse," Sebell said, but he turned to Nurevin. "Master Robinton was there himself and told me that Jaxom was victim, not assailant, and Lamoth died of shame that his rider would turn on another rider. Any more?"

"Well, and this's stupider," Nurevin went on, both reassured and encouraged by his audience. "That dragonriders will take the three colony ships and disappear from Pern, leaving us with only flame-throwers to kill Thread!"

"Did you hear the one that suggests that the dragons will take the old shuttles and throw them at the Red Star and destroy it?" When Nurevin shook his head, Sebell continued, his expression serious. "There's one that the Masterhealer has been given medicine by Aivas that will paralyze folk so that pieces can be carved out of their bodies to repair others who have sickened."

Nurevin snorted. "I heard that one at Bitra. I didn't believe it then and I don't believe it now. That Aivas thing is scary, but I've not seen anything produced yet that didn't help us in some way or t'other. Best axle grease I ever had was something that Aivas gave the Smithcrafthall. And that new metal for cotter pins that don't bend or snap when the wheels are stressed."

Kimi reentered, chittering about the success of her trip and stroking her golden head on Sebell's cheek before she held out her message-laden leg. Excusing himself, Sebell read the message.

"Late as it is there, I'm bid to Cove Hold. If you'll excuse me..."

He was ushered out by the two Lord Holders.

"You wonder sometimes, don't you, Asgenar," Larad said sadly as they turned to reenter the warm, comfortable room, "why people can be so ornery."

"I think it has to do with a resistance to being done good to.'

"Not if they're putting Master Robinton at risk," Larad said, still horrified by that possibility. "He's never harmed anyone in his life. This world would rise up to the least child to protest such infamy."

"Which, unfortunately, makes him the most useful hostage," Asgenar said with a sigh of regret.

By the time Sebell reached Cove Hold, it was early morning there. He and the brown dragon who was conveying him were immediately greeted by swarms of chittering fire-lizards as dense in the sky as Thread. Tiroth, ensconced on the grassy sward before the hold, blinked orange-laced eyes until he and brown Folrath identified each other. Sebell was pleased to see so many guardians already in place. Not that the whilom abductors could as yet have gotten so far as Cove Hold, given the journey they would have to make from Bitra, or even from the nearest seaport.

Every glowbasket in the main room was wide open, shedding light on Robinton, D'ram, Lytol, and T'gellan, who were sitting at the big round table. A collapsed wineskin indicated that much discussion had already taken place. Sebell was glad to see the Eastern Weyrleader present.

"Ah, Sebell," Robinton cried, raising his arm in welcome, his expression so merry that Sebell thought the Harper was perversely enjoying his jeopardy. "Any more news of this scurrilous scheme?"

Sebell shook his head, grinning at his reception but noting immediately that the Harper's ebullience was not echoed by others at the table.

"You know as much as anyone, though Nurevin has assured me he'll keep in touch with Brestolli, by fire-lizard, in case the man hears more to the point."

"I've sent Zair with a message to Master Idarolan," Robinton said, "in the hope that he can intercept the conspirators."

"We've had quite enough of petty vandalism and wanton destruction of property," Lytol said, a deep angry scowl on his face. "This time we must catch the scofflaws and discover everyone who has aided and abetted them. For anyone to even contemplate harming Master Robinton, a man to whom all Pern owes a very great debt..."

"Now, now, Lytol," Robinton said, circling Lytol's stiff shoulders with a soothing arm, "don't carry on so. You're embarrassing me. And this whole scheme only shows how basically stupid our detractors are. As if they had a chance of penetrating my loyal minions." The Harper gestured to the storm of fire-lizard fairs outside the window.

"I know they can't reach you, Robinton," Lytol said, banging his fist on the table and making the goblets jump, "but the fact that they would dare..."

Robinton grinned maliciously. "Maybe I should let myself be captured? Hauled off unceremoniously," he began as Lytol stared at him, aghast, "taken to wherever they plan to incarcerate me, and then-" He lifted his free hand and clenched it suddenly into a fist. "-let the avenging wings swoop down on the despicable rabble and carry them off forthwith to be dropped in the deepest of Larad's mines, condemned to toil off their misspent energies in useful work."

Lytol's expression turned to resignation and disgust. "You should take this seriously, my friend."

"I do. I really do!" Robinton altered his mobile face. "I'm deeply saddened that I, or anyone, on Pern could be victimized in this horrendous fashion. But," he added, holding up one finger, "it's more ingenious than trying to burn space-engine fuel or sabotage Aivas. We really ought to ask his advice, you know."

"If it weren't for Aivas-" Lytol began heatedly, then broke off when he realized what he had said. T'gellan and Sebell tried to smother their spontaneous guffaw. Lytol abruptly got to his feet and strode out of the room.

When Sebell made to go after the old Warder, Robinton held up his hand, and the younger harper settled back into his chair.

"He has every right to be upset," D'ram said in a slow, sad voice. "It is terrible to think that there are people who oppose all the good that Aivas has done for us and would go to such great lengths to destroy him and those of us who have the vision to appreciate the potential."

"Look, I see no real chance of anyone reaching Master Robinton," T'gellan said, leaning forward on his elbows across the table. "They cannot have thought this through very carefully. They can know nothing of Cove Hold or how many people are in and out on a daily and-" He gave Sebell a wry grin. "-early-morning basis."

"Have you forgotten the raid on Landing?" Sebell asked. "Horses, gear, experienced mercenaries. If Aivas hadn't his own defenses, that could have succeeded. We can't allow ourselves to be complacent."

"Well said, Sebell," D'ram replied. "However, what Robinton suggested so glibly has merit. If we wish to find the ones behind these attempts, it would be smart of us to set no apparent"-and he held up his hand to emphasize that adjective "reinforcements, make no obvious alterations of our daily routines."

"Agreed..."

"All the while making certain that Robinton is never left alone."

"As if I ever am," Robinton said, feigning an outraged glower.

"I apologize in advance," Sebell said in a contrite tone, "for suggesting this. But if G'lanar was disaffected..."

D'ram raised his hand in understanding, but it was T'gellan who answered, his expression bleak.

"Ramoth herself spoke to the remaining Oldtimer, dragons they're the only ones who might still be contentious enough to cause problems. But every one of them was appalled by G'lanar's action," the bronze rider said, "and none can dissemble before Ramoth!"

Sebell looked immensely relieved. "Then we can rule out that possibility."

"Somehow that doesn't greatly reassure me," D'ram said in a lugubrious voice. "We're not dealing with fools."

"No, we're dealing with fearful men, and they're more dangerous."

The silicone fluid, worked well into the joints of the waldo gloves, restored mobility-except in the third finger of the left hand, a limitation that posed no great problem.

"What would we have done if the silicone fluid didn't work?" Manotti asked, winking at his colleagues to indicate that he was teasing their mentor.

"There is always an alternative course of action, though it may be less efficient and productive," Aivas replied. "Now, Sharra, be good enough to place a Thread section in the chamber and, using a blade, slice the specimen at a slant, thus exposing all layers. Now, what do you see?"

"Rings, springs, and the shapes you called toruses," Sharra said. "An odd goo, a yellow liquid, some strange pastes in peculiar shades of yellow, gray, and white, and some other substances that seem to change color."

Tamara made a revolted noise deep in her throat and turned away.

"You must all realize," Aivas began in a stern tone, "that the most important piece of apparatus in the laboratory is your brain. Just as you made the microtools to effect this dissection, you must make your brains the right instrument for this task. The most useful thing is the moment-by-moment interaction of your brain seeing these things for the first time. Even your reaction, Tamara, has a certain validity. Now, set that reaction aside, and observe. What else do you see, Sharra?"

She tapped her microblade on a ring. "This feels like metal."

"Then excise it and any more like it that you see, and have the items sent to Master Fandarel for analysis. What else?"

"There're a lot of particles lodged in the pasty parts, and-and it's hollow in the center. Could that yellow be liquid helium?" Sharra went on. "It's just like the stuff you showed us in the liquid gas experiments, and it boils as soon as it's exposed to the -150 ° atmosphere. We haven't yet tried it at 3K."

"There is no reason why it cannot be helium. Helium is liquid at the temperatures that Thread inhabits. Isolate a sample, and a positive identification can be made."

"This whole thing resembles those micrographs you displayed, Aivas," Mirrim said.

"You are quite right, Mirrim. This is the real thing, though, not a slide. Continue, Sharra."

"How?"

"Dissect another ring. Slice it so that you go through more than half the torus. That will show more of its composition."

"That's odd," Brekke said. "Compare that ring with the other one. The first has all kinds of springy-like things sort of layered, while in the other they're all twisted up-oooh, shells!"

Sharra had prodded one of the rings, and suddenly it flipped away from the tool, sticking to the wall of the examination enclosure.

"This could be their method of reproduction," Aivas said. "Or it could be a parasite, escaping from the dying organism. But this is quite interesting. Try another ring to see if the reaction is the same."

Though Sharra's second prod was more tentative, there was another eruption.

"Now, apply your blade to the springs in the first torus," Aivas instructed. "Nothing happens. Now you have seen two entirely different facets of this organism. You are investigating a wholly new creature, and we must see everything that it is."

"Why?" Mirrim asked.

"Because you must know how to destroy this organism, so that it cannot reproduce, so that it cannot multiply anywhere in your system."

"If it doesn't fall on Pern, that's enough, isn't it'?" Brekke asked.

"For you, perhaps, but the sensible thing would be to destroy it at its source."

Caselon recovered first. "But if the Red Star is moved..."

"That doesn't destroy Thread. It only removes its vector. Your task is to discover how you can destroy the Thread organism itself!"

"Isn't that a bit ambitious for us?" Sharra asked.

"The means are available. Even in your very brief investigations today, you have discovered much about the organism. Each day you will discover more. It is possible that some of those bits are parasites, smaller entities built on the same plan. Parasites or progeny. Or predators."

"Like those limpets on the tunnel snakes?" Oldive asked. "The ones that attach themselves to the snakes and eat their muscle tissue and then leave when they're sated?"

"A good example. Were they predators, or were they parasites?"

"I don't think we ever decided," Oldive remarked. "According to your definition, a parasite does not always cause its host lasting harm, and tends to be unable to survive apart from this host; while a predator usually kills its victim and moves on. As the snake limpet leaves its host/victim alive and able to heal, it is more of a parasite, not quite a predator."

"What must be found are parasites that can be made into predators, guaranteed to kill their hosts just as you isolated bacteria and altered it to create bacteriophages to reduce wound infection."

"I still don't see the purpose," Mirrim muttered.

"There is one," Aivas said so emphatically that Mirrim grimaced in dismay and pretended to be frightened.

"Sharra, have you isolated those parts that must be subjected to other tests?"

"I've got a lot of messy bits, and springs and metals, and lumps and bumps, if that's what you mean."

"Good. Place them on the petri dishes and we can proceed with the investigation. You are to examine them under high pressure, with inert gas-xenon, which we have in that cylinder-to discover if those tubes are full of helium. Now that you have opened the containing tubular vessels, you are losing all the helium, if that's what it is, very rapidly."

When Lessa and F'lar learned of the threat against Master Robinton, they were all for sending him up to the Yokohama, or to Honshu, or back to the Harper Hall.

"I'm not a child," he said, considerably incensed by such protectiveness. "I'm a grown man and have faced down every danger that has come my way. Do not deny me that right. Besides, if these conspirators should learn that their victim has been put beyond them, they'll merely think of something else we might not learn about in time to counter. No, I'll stay here, with half the fire-lizards of Pern as my escort and whatever other"-he held up a warning hand-discreet guardians you choose to appoint. Beat a cowardly retreat I will not!" With his head up, his eyes flashing, his breath rapid, he forestalled all further protests.

If he noticed those set to guard him in the following weeks, he did not register the surveillants with so much as a flicker of his eye. Master Idarolan, as irate as everyone else, sent messages to all harbormasters, consulted at great length with his most trusted captains, and dispatched his fastest courier ship to Monaco Bay. Menolly sent Rocky, Diver, and Mimic to assist Robinton's Zair, and Swacky and two other big mercenaries were established at Cove Hold. Master Robinton continued his duties at Landing and on the Yokohoma, pretended to be highly intrigued by the biological team's exacting work.

How Aivas learned of the threat no one knew, or admitted, but it gave Fandarel the schematics for a small device that Master Robinton was to wear at all times. "A locator," Aivas termed it. "Wearing that, you can be traced anywhere on this planet and as far as the spaceships."

That afforded all his friends far more relief than any would admit. With Aivas as protector, Master Robinton was surely safe.