Monarth says we go!
They went. The cold of between seemed to penetrate Jaxom's space suit, and he could hear his breath coming raggedly. He forced himself to slow down.
I'm here, Ruth said in encouragement.
As always, Jaxom replied, and continued to count his inhalations. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.
And then they were hovering inches above the southern tip of the Rift.
Monarth says where's the crater?
Tell him that Aivas picked this spot, so here's where wed better deposit the engine. We don't have time to find that bloody crater!
Jaxom turned toward N'ton, who was looking at him, arms raised in query. Jaxom gave him an exasperated shrug in reply.
Monarth says N'ton understands. They proceed.
N'ton was signaling to the auxiliary dragons to begin their task of sowing the zebedees. Then he turned all his attention to the lowering of the massive engine into the Rift. The maneuver went well, even better than Jaxom's, taking just ten minutes.
N'ton waited another few moments, allowing the dragons a chance to rest. Then he called in the auxiliaries.
I have told Monarth that everyone must return to their own Weyrs. But to keep the right helmets with the right suits this time, Ruth told Jaxom.
We're not likely to need two hundred slightly used space suits again, Jaxom said, trying to contain his elation until they were safely back. We must go back to the Yokohama.
I have told Monarth. N'ton says he is grateful and apologizes for the delay.
Tell him that it all worked out well in the end.
It did, didn't it? Ruth added. Shall we return now?
Please yes!
Once again, the return seemed longer than the outgoing journey, but it wasn't. Finally the comforting dimness of the big cargo bay of the Yokohama surrounded them. And they were immediately attacked by Ramoth and Mnementh.
Where have I been? Ruth exclaimed, rearing back away from Ramoth's savage expression and dodging Mnementh's massive wings. I'm fine. I in fine. So is Jaxom. He didn't tell me not to go!
"Jaxom!" F'lar was bellowing the moment he stepped out of the lift, with Lessa on his heels.
Jaxom loosened his helmet. "So we went, too," he said, raising his voice to top the angry ones of the Benden Weyrleaders. "Ruth's not even a trifle off color. Not his fault. I forgot to tell him not to follow Monarth. But the job is now completely done!" He glared back at F'lar and Lessa and slid down Ruth's side, patting his foreleg. "I could certainly use another pull at that wineskin, Lessa, if you wouldn't mind..."
He spoke with no trace of regret or apology, and he felt rather too battered to bother with the deference the Weyrleaders deserved from him. He undid the first of the suit's fastenings, knowing that they were still angry with him and hoping they would give it up.
"Here, I'll help," F'lar said unexpectedly. "Lessa, this Lord Holder deserves another swallow of that 'sixteen!"
Jaxom gave F'lar a sharp look and then grinned back. By the first Egg, so he had finally come into his own in the cargo bay of the Yokohama.
20
A few riders in the third group suffered some physical attrition. M'rand, one of the older bronze riders of High Reaches, returned long after the rest of the Weyr and in terrible condition. He was tormented by bad dreams, insisting that he had returned to his Weyr but it had not been his Weyr. Tileth had been frantic, recognizing none of the other dragons there and finding a strange bronze asleep on the ledge of his Weyr. M'rand couldn't understand at first, but he had heard that bronzes could slip through time. He kept his wits and had tried to get home again, giving Tileth the most vivid images of their favorite view of High Reaches, with the blue M'rand knew was that day's watchdragon. That time they had emerged in the right place and the right time.
"Sloppy visualization," Lessa said when she and F'lar had also spoken with M'rand and the others: two in Fort Weyr and another in Igen. "And they're all older riders, leaving more up to their dragons than they ought."
Jaxom noticed that N'ton was regarding him with a quizzical expression, and he responded with a perplexed grin. He himself had felt woefully tired after the exertions of that momentous day, pausing only long enough to let Ruth feed on a juicy buck before returning home, and no one thought it odd that he slept nearly a day. Sharra was equally exhausted by her last few days in the laboratory, churning out zebedees.
Despite the fact that Aivas had repeatedly told everyone that the explosion would not take place for several more days and then would not be immediately visible due to light speed-which he had to explain again to some-a twenty-four-hour vigil was kept on the Yokohama. Every screen in the various areas on the ships where air was available was adjusted to the ships' main screens and the big telescope, aimed at the Red Star.
"Jaxom, aren't you going to watch?" Sharra asked. "You of all people ought to have the right!" She was baffled by his apparent indifference to the event.
"Frankly," he said, "I have a lot of more important things to do here in Ruatha than floating about on the bridge, waiting for the thing to blow. Unless, of course," he added considerately, "you really want to see it."
"Well..." Sharra paused, then smiled at him. "I've got those cultures going right now and..."
Jaxom grinned at her. "If there's enough warning, Ruth'll get us there in time."
Sharra gave him a startled sideways glance.
"All in a good cause," he said, trying for nonchalance, "and a minute or two isn't going to disrupt the universe. I'll ask Ruth to keep an ear open, if you like. There's always some fire-lizards or a dragon or two up at the Yokohama these days. Easy enough."
"If he can stay awake long enough to listen," Sharra replied, having noticed that Ruth seemed to be taking an unusual amount of sleep.
"He can sleep with one ear open," Jaxom said, and then they each went about the concerns of the day.
Brand had also observed Ruth's somnolence, and while he and Jaxom were checking the brood mares, he mentioned it.
"I don't think it's so very unusual, Brand," Jaxom said easily. "N'ton said that all the bronzes who went with us are also sleeping a good deal. I suspect none of the dragons care to admit that they had to work pretty hard to transfer those engines." Then Jaxom noticed his Steward's hesitation. "Why? What's wrong?"
"It's just that there have been some complaints about Fort Weyr."
"What do you mean, Brand?" Jaxom and Ruth had not flown the most recent Fall with the Fort wings. "Have I missed something?"
Brand had shrugged expressively. "Well, because the bronzes are a big logy, they haven't been as, well, diligent in chasing airborne Thread. There have been a lot of unhappy groundcrews. And that's the other problem."
"Tell me."
"Somehow-" Brand paused to frame his explanation. "A lot of people thought that there'd be no more Thread now. That once the dragonriders had done this explosion thing, Thread wouldn't fall again."
"Oh!" Jaxom made a face. "Bloody shards, Brand. Don't they ever listen? Harpers have been explaining for the last four Turns that we can't stem this Fall, but there won't be any more!"
"They don't see it that way, I'm afraid, from the accounts I've heard. And Holder Grevil isn't a stupid man, as you know, but he hadn't understood and feels aggrieved, especially when a clump of Thread came down on his best field."
"I can appreciate his annoyance. Did you manage to soothe him?"
"I did, but he's sure to approach you on the matter the next time he can. I thought I'd warn you. And you should know that he blames the Aivas."
Jaxom compressed his lips against rash words, momentarily defeated by this news: especially coming from Grevil, who was usually a moderate man. "I thought we'd straightened all that out at the trial."