So now he looked around him. "Are you the only ones up here, Lessa?"
"Oh, no." She grinned. "Everyone else is on the bridge, peering through the telescope, hoping to see the explosion. Oh, I told them it wouldn't happen soon. They were confident that they'd see the wings." Jaxom's breath caught when she said that. Oblivious, she went on. "Of course, they couldn't. Sometimes, even Fandarel doesn't comprehend vast distances. But today's excitement is being shared."
"How long has it been since we got back?" F'lar asked Jaxom.
"About twenty minutes," Jaxom replied. "N'ton's wings won't be ready yet, F'lar. Does anyone need your suit?"
"I shouldn't think so, but to be on the safe side, I'll shuck out of it. Could you bring it over to the Buenos Aires if it is needed?" F'lar handed Jaxom the helmet and, with Lessa's help, started removing the bulky suit. As he laid it over Jaxom's arm, he added, "I think we'll join those on the bridge, and the telescope, and watch N'ton work."
As soon as the lift doors closed on them, Jaxom returned to the console. "All right, Aivas, just how do I get to go with N'ton?"
"That is being arranged," Aivas replied, surprising him.
"How is it being arranged?" Jaxom demanded.
"You are quick and clever. You already have a reason to be on the Buenos Aires. You will know what to do when the time comes. Transfer now to the other ship."
"I'll know when the time comes, will I?" Jaxom muttered to himself as he threw the extra suit over his shoulder. Carrying the suit and two helmets, he made his way over to Ruth. "Hand this one up to me, will you?" he asked, giving the white dragon one of the two helmets so he would have a free hand to mount. "How's N'ton doing? Has he got all the suits yet?"
As he arranged F'lar's suit in front of him he caught a whiff of sweat. Well, he didn't smell that sweet himself after his exertions.
N'ton says that some suits have to be sponged, and helmets have to match the suit.
Washed? Dragonriders tended to be fastidious in their personal habits, and dressing in a sweaty suit might be distasteful to many. Oh, yes, perhaps they might at that. I don't understand about the helmets.
There was a pause while Ruth inquired of Monarth, N'ton's bronze.
They forgot to put the suits back together-Ruth was obviously repeating something he did not quite understand-and the helmets got mixed up.
How long is sorting going to take? And suddenly Jaxom had a glimmer of an idea. With nearly a hundred suits to match to helmets, it could take several hours. He hoped it would take a long time.
Monarth didn't know. N'ton is not happy.
Reassure Monarth and N'ton, would you please, Ruth? Because this is going to work for our benefit. I think we can now put in an appearance on the Buenos Aires.
There were three blues and two greens waiting there, all from Eastern Weyr, and Ruth was greeted with considerable awe by the young dragons. Knowing that the white dragon would enjoy their deferential attention, Jaxom left him there and took the lift up to the smaller bridge of the Buenos Aires.
"What's holding up N'ton's wings?" Fandarel asked, relieved to see Jaxom. "That was a splendid sight, Jaxom, watching all those dragons lifting the engines like they were so many fire-stone sacks. Aivas has informed us that all went well." Fandarel looked concerned. "Why isn't N'ton here?"
"Because no one thought to keep helmet and body suit together," Jaxom said. Then he realized that he should also appear concerned and managed a frown. "I don't think it's going to matter in the long run," he added thoughtfully as he made his way to the nearest console. "Aivas, there is going to be a delay. Helmets weren't kept with suits, and they've got to match."
"That could be inconvenient if the delay is prolonged," Aivas said.
"It's three-quarters of an hour since we went off. How long before N'ton has to have different star-pattern references? It would be disastrous if he arrived at the wrong time and his engine went off either prematurely or too late." If Aivas expected Jaxom to use his wits, he hoped he would see what he was aiming at.
"A consideration to be sure. Reprogramming contingency." The screen altered from the current view of the Buenos Aires engine to rapid shifts of star configurations. "With any lengthy delay, the star picture will be slightly different."
"Is there going to be a problem?" Fandarel asked.
Jaxom smiled reassuringly at the Mastersmith and the others on the bridge, Masterminer Nicat, Master Idarolan, Jancis, and Piemur. Jaxom wished Piemur were not there: they knew each other far too well. "I don't think it's insurmountable. As you heard, Aivas is already programming contingency plans. I'd better inform Lessa and F'lar of the delay."
When he had done that, a call came through from Evan in engineering, patiently waiting to complete the separation. Jaxom was glad it was he, rather than Fosdak, in charge of that task. Fosdak had no patience.
Of all on the three bridges, Jaxom was the only one delighted that it took N'ton and his wings nearly four hours to get suited up. N'ton was usually a calm, easygoing, and relaxed Weyrleader; his patience had been sorely tried by the delays.
Monarth says they're ready. Ramoth says they must get the new configurations from you. Aivas is giving you the new star patterns to memorize and give Monarth. Ruth delivered the various messages just as the new configurations came up on the monitor. They were, as Jaxom knew, those for the five-hundred-Turn jump with the Red Star in the same relation to Rukbat at the Eighth Pass. Aivas had made a slight time alteration on those original coordinates, judging by the position of the Wheel and the Plow constellations on the horizon.
"Lessa," Jaxom said, toggling the ship-to-ship link, "I've got the visuals here. I'll give them to N'ton. Can Ramoth tell them to transfer in five more minutes? I have to get Ruth from the cargo bay."
"Just give N'ton the coordinates, Jaxom," Lessa said.
"That's what I intend doing," Jaxom replied mendaciously. "Fandarel, five-minute warning for Evan?"
The smith nodded enthusiastically, for the waiting had made everyone edgy. Waiting, in the smith's lexicon, was inefficient. As Jaxom took the lift to the cargo bay, he wondered if Fandarel ever rested. Here he had completed the most complex and exhausting work of a lifetime and he still fretted over inactivity.
We go? Ruth asked Jaxom, his eyes whirling with excitement.
We don't really have to go, you know, Ruth, Jaxom said. Lessa said we only have to give N'ton the new coordinates... Jaxom chuckled as he saw the disappointment in Ruth's eyes. He mounted and, crowning his head with the helmet, twisted it shut. That will get them there safely enough but... I think you'll make an error and go, too. You feel all right about that?
I have rested, and this is the shorter trip, isn't it?
I hope so. Between the first jump, fretting over how to join N'ton's wings, and the long wait, Jaxom was feeling slightly frayed. He took care not to let Ruth sense that.
Monarth comes! Excitement colored Ruth's tone.
"Fandarel, do you see them?" Jaxom asked through his helmet link.
"Yes, magnificent. I have given Evan the order to separate."
Let's get to the stern, Ruth.
Jaxom took a deep breath, but they flashed between so fast that he had not quite completed the inhalation when Ruth reappeared gripping the stern. Monarth and N'ton were beside them, and below, the bronze dragons of Fort, High Reaches, Telgar, and Ista ranged along the top spars.
Jaxom held the image of where they were going vivid in his mind. Give Monarth and N'ton my compliments and ask Monarth to take our destination from you.
N'ton threw Jaxom a salute, but Jaxom couldn't see the Fort Weyrleader's expression, obscured as it was by his faceplate. He gave N'ton a deferential salute.