"Don't be ridiculous, Aivas," Robinton said somewhat sharply. "You've just gotten your students to the point where they know enough to argue with you!"
"And to resent the superiority of this facility. No, Master Robinton, the task is done. Now it is wise to let them seek their own way forward. They have the intelligence and a great spirit. Their ancestors can rightfully be proud of them."
"Are you?"
"They have worked hard and well. That is in itself a reward and an end."
"You know, I believe you're right."
"'To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,' Master Robinton."
"That is poetic, Aivas."
There was one of those pauses that Robinton always thought was the Aivas equivalent of a smile.
"From the greatest book ever written by Mankind, Master Robinton. You may find the entire quotation in the files. The time has been accomplished. This system is going down. Farewell, Masterharper of Pern. Amen."
Robinton sat straight up in his chair, fingers on the pressure plates, though he hadn't a single positive idea of how he could avert what Aivas was about to do. He half turned to the Hall, to call for help, but no one who had the knowledge-Jaxom, Piemur, Jancis, Fandarel, D'ram, or Lytol-was near enough at hand.
The screen that had paraded so much knowledge and issued so many commands and diagrams and plans was suddenly blank, lifeless. In .the right-hand corner, a single line blinked.
"'And a time to every purpose under heaven,' " Robinton murmured, his throat almost too tight for him to speak. He felt incredibly tired, overwhelmingly sleepy. "Yes, how very true. How splendidly true. And what a wonderful time it has been!"
Unable to resist the lethargy that spread from his extremities, he laid his head down on the inactive pressure plate, one hand holding Zair in the curve of his neck, and closed his eyes, his long season over, his purpose, too, accomplished.
D'ram found them there, for Zair had breathed his last as well, following the Harper as selflessly as any dragon followed his rider into death.
Tiroth lifted his head, his keening alerting all those at Landing and, indeed, broadcasting to every Weyr, every dragon, and every rider on Pern, and throughout the Halls and Holds, from mountain to plain, from sea to sea on both continents.
D'ram was so tear-blinded that he did not notice the opacity of the screen, or read the blinking message.
In Ruatha Hold, Ruth gave out a bellow of anguish that had everyone in the Great Hall rushing to the door.
The Harper! The Harper!
Jaxom didn't think. He grabbed Sharra by the hand and propelled her down the steps to where Ruth had reared, head back, wings extended.
"Jaxom!" she exclaimed.
"The Harper! Something's happened to the Harper!"
She needed no more urging. They scrambled astride the white dragon.
"We need Oldive for this, Ruth," Jaxom said. "Take us first to the Healer Hall."
They emerged almost immediately in the central court of the Hall, Ruth just barely managing to avoid setting down on anyone. Oldive, jacket flapping from one hand, his medical case in the other, was limping down the stairs.
I told him! Ruth said.
Just then the Fort Hold dragon began to keen, and swirling storms of fire-lizards, ululating in weird descant, flashed in and out of the court.
"What has happened to the Harper?" Oldive demanded, handing his case up to Sharra and struggling into his jacket. "Neither of you has a jacket!"
"Don't worry about us." Jaxom sat, leaning down to grab Oldive's arm and haul him up. Is it Landing? Or Cove Hold? he asked Ruth.
Landing!
"Take us there! We must be in time!"
Neither Jaxom nor Sharra even noticed the dread chill of between in that anxious trip. Dragons were arriving from all directions, so Ruth, ducking low, skimmed the tops of the houses and landed in front of the Aivas building, once again missing collisions with those on the ground rushing in response to the emergency. ,
It is too late! Ruth said, and folded his wings over his head.
"It can't be too late! Move aside, let us through. Let Oldive through!" Jaxom pushed their way through, one hand hauling the Masterhealer along beside him, the limping Oldive somehow keeping up with him. "Make way here. Make way!"
At the doorway, he came to an abrupt stop. Piemur, Jancis, D'ram, and Lytol stood around the chair, the Harper's silverhaired pate visible where it rested against the back. Choking back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him, Jaxom slowly approached, moving to one side so that he could see. The Harper looked as if he were merely sleeping. Zair, gray with death, curled against his neck.
"He just-went-to-sleep," Piemur said brokenly. "He's not even warm anymore."
"I thought he was just asleep," D'ram said, "the last time I looked in. I never thought..." Hand to his face, he turned away.
"Aivas!" Jaxom roared. "Aivas, why didn't you call someone? You must have been aware-"
"Look," Sharra said, touching his arm and then pointing to the screen and the blinking message there.
"'And a time for every purpose under heaven'? What is that supposed to mean, Aivas? Aivas!"
Only then did Jaxom realize the difference in the screen, as lifeless as it had been the very first time he had entered the room. "Aivas?"
He pressed a "restore" sequence. Then, cursing at fingers that fumbled, he tried other codes, but got no response.
"Piemur? Jancis? What do we do?"
Sharra grabbed his trembling hands and held them, her tearing eyes bright with the knowledge that he could not accept.
"Aivas has gone, too," she said, her voice rough. "See the smile on Master Robinton's face? Just as you and I have seen him smile so many times. The message was for him as it is there for us."
"We'll go back, we'll go back to when he was still alive-" Jaxom began, reaching for Master Oldive and heading toward the door. If he and Ruth could time it... F'lar and Lessa stood in the doorway. He didn't care if they knew he meant to time it.
Oldive grabbed his arm, shaking his head, his eyes blurred with tears. "We could do nothing for him, Jaxom. 'A time for every purpose under heaven,' Jaxom. And it was time for the Harper."
"He wouldn't let us tell anyone," Sharra said to Jaxom, "how serious his condition was."
"It was only a matter of time," Oldive murmured, peering up at him, his long face grooved with sorrow. "His heart was badly strained by the abduction. This was a kind ending, Jaxom, no matter how abrupt and unexpected."
"I know Robinton wasn't well," Jaxom went on, shaking his head, tears coursing down his cheeks. "But I don't understand about Aivas, too."
"He tells us plainly enough," D'ram said, having recovered his composure. He pointed to the message. "He has served his purpose in helping us destroy Thread. You will come to realize just how wise Aivas was in this. We were beginning to count on him too heavily."
"Machines can't die!" Jaxom chewed the words out resentfully.
"The knowledge he gave us will not," F'lar said, and stood aside to let Menolly and Sebell enter the room. "Now let us all honor Masterharper Robinton."
The day was inappropriately beautiful when the Masterharper, wrapped in a harper-blue shroud, was laid to rest in the beautiful blue-green waters of his beloved Cove Hold. Master Idarolan had dispatched his fastest ship and came a-dragonback to captain it himself. Master Alemi, with his sloop from Paradise River, and the small ketches that fished in Monaco Bay, assembled to accommodate the many people who would escort Master Robinton to his resting place.
All the Weyrs of Pern hovered in the sky, and while fire-lizards made sad swirls around them the ship sailed out of Cove Hold. Lord Holders and Craftmasters lined the decks amid harpers of every degree.
Sebell and Menolly sang all the songs that had made the Masterharper so beloved by everyone, Menolly remembering the day that she had sung farewell to his father, Petiron, the day that had begun the major change in her own life.