“What’s this leaf mean? Ah, this is Pern, and that is the Red Star, but what are these other circles you’re marked?”
“I’m not certain I know, my lady, but I discovered them while scanning the heavens last night – or this morning. The Red Star is not the only globe above us. There is this one, too, which became visible toward morning, didn’t it, N’ton?”
The young bronze rider nodded solemnly but there was a gleam of amusement in his blue eyes for the glassman’s manner of exposition. “And very faintly, but still visible as a sphere, is this third heavenly neighbor, to our northeast, low on the horizon. Then, directly south – it was N’ton’s notion to look all around – we found this larger globe with the most unusual cluster of objects moving with visible speed about it. Why, the skies around Pern are crowded!” Wansor’s dismay was so ludicrous that Lessa had to stifle her giggle.
F’lar took the leaf from the glassman and began to study it while Lessa pushed Wansor onto the stool by the sick man.
F’lar tapped the circles thoughtfully as though this tactile contact made them more real.
“And there are four stars in the skies?”
“Indeed there are many more, Weyrleader,” Wansor replied. “But only these,” and his stained forefinger pointed to the three newly discovered neighbors, “appear so far as globes in the distance-viewer. The others are merely bright points of light as stars have always been. One must assume then, that these three are also controlled by our sun, and pass around it, even as we do. For I do not see how they could escape the force that tethers us and the Red Star to the sun – a force we know to be tremendous . . .”
F’lar looked up from the rude sketches, a terrible expression on his face.
“If these are so near, then does Thread really come from the Red Star?”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” moaned Wansor softly and began caressing his fingertips with his thumbs in little fluttery gestures.
“Nonsense,” said Lessa so confidently that the three men glanced at her in surprise. “Let’s not make more complications than we already have. The ancients who knew enough to make that distance-viewer definitely stipulate the Red Star as the origin of Thread. If it were one of these others, they’d have said so. It is when the Red Star approaches Pern that we have Thread.”
“In that drawing in the Council Room at Fort Weyr there is a diagram of globes on circular routes,” N’ton said thoughtfully. “Only there are six circles and,” his eyes widened suddenly; he glanced quickly down at the sheet in Wansor’s hand, “. . . one of them, the next to the last, has clusters of smaller satellites.”
“Well, then, except that we’ve seen it with our own eyes, what’s all the worry?” demanded Lessa, grabbing up the klah pitcher and mugs to serve the newcomers. “We’ve only just discovered for ourselves what the ancients knew and inscribed on that wall.”
“Only now,” N’ton said softly, “we know what that design means.”
Lessa shot him a long look and nearly flooded Wansor’s cup.
“Indeed. The actual experience is the knowing, N’ton.”
“I gather you have both spent the night at that distance-viewer?” asked F’lar. When they nodded, he asked, “What of the Red Star? Did you see anything that could guide us in?”
“As to that. sir,” N’ton answered after a questioning glance at Wansor, “there is an odd-shaped protuberance which puts me in mind of the tip of Nerat, only pointed east instead of west – ” His voice trailed off and he gave a diffident shrug of his shoulders.
F’lar sighed and leaned back again, all the eagerness gone from his face.
“Insufficient detail, huh?”
“Last night,” N’ton added in hurried qualification. “I doubt the following nights will alter the view.”
“On the contrary, Weyrleader,” said Wansor, his eyes wide, “the Red Star turns on its own axis much as Pern does.”
“But it is still too far away to make out any details,” Lessa said firmly.
F’lar shot her an annoyed look. “If I could only see for myself . . .”
Wansor looked up brightly. “Well, now, you know, I had about figured out how to utilize the lenses from the magnifier. Of course, there’d be no such maneuverability as one can achieve with the ancient device, but the advantage is that I could set up those lenses on your own Star Stones. It’s rather interesting too, because if I put one lens in the Eye Rock and set the other on the Finger Rock, you will see – or, but then you won’t see, will you?” And the little man seemed to debate.
“Won’t see what?”
“Well, those rocks are situated to catch the Red Star only at winter solstice, so of course the angles are wrong for any other time of year. But then, I could – no,” Wansor’s face was puckered with his intense frown. Only his eyes moved, restlessly, as the myriad thoughts he was undoubtedly sifting were reflected briefly. “I will think about it. But I am sure that I can devise a means of your seeing the Red Star, Weyrleader, without moving from Benden.”
“You must be exhausted, Wansor,” Lessa said, before F’lar could ask another question.
“Oh, not to mention,” Wansor replied, blinking hard to focus on her.
“Enough to mention,” Lessa said firmly and took the cup from his hand. half-lifting him from the stool. “I think Master Wansor, that you had better sleep here at Benden a little while.”
“Oh, could I? I’d the most fearful notion that I might fall off the dragon between. But that couldn’t happen, could it? Oh, I can’t stay. I have the Craft’s dragon. Really, perhaps I’d just better . . .”
His voice trailed off as Lessa led him down the corridor.
“He was up all last night too,” N’ton said, grinning affectionately after Wansor.
“There is no way to go between to the Red Star?”
N’ton shook his head slowly. “Not that we could see tonight – last night. The same features of dark, reddish masses were turned toward us most of the time we watched. Just before we decided you should know about the other planets, I took a final look and that Nerat-like promontory had disappeared, leaving only the dullish gray-red coloration.”
“There must be some way to get to the Red Star.”
“I’m sure you’ll find it, sir, when you’re feeling better.”
F’lar grimaced, thinking that “unobtrusive” was an apt description of this young man. He had deftly expressed confidence in his superior, that only ill-health prevented immediate action, and that the ill-health was a passing thing.
“Since that’s the way matters stand in that direction, let us proceed in another. Lessa said that you procured Thread for us. Did you see how those swamp grubs dealt with Thread?”
N’ton nodded slowly, his eyes glittering.
“If we hadn’t had to cede the dissidents the continent, I’d’ve had a straight-flown Search discover the boundaries of the southern lands. We still don’t know its extent. Exploration was stopped on the west by the deserts, and on the east by the sea. But it can’t be just the swampy area that is infested with these grubs.” F’lar shook his head. He sounded querulous to himself. He took a breath, forcing himself to speak more slowly and therefore less emotionally. “There’s been Threadfall in the Southern Weyr for seven Turns and not a single burrow. The ground crews have never had to flame out anything. Now, even with the most careful, most experienced, sharpest-eyed riders, some Thread gets to the ground. T’bor insists there were never any burrows to be found anywhere after a Threadfall,” F’lar grimaced. “His wings are efficient and Threadfall is light in the south, but I wished I’d known.”
“And what would you have thought?” asked Lessa with her usual asperity as she rejoined them. “Nothing. Because until Thread started falling out of phase, and you had been at the swampfall, you’d never have correlated the information.”
She was right, of course, but N’ton didn’t have to look so torn between agreement with her and sympathy for him. Silently F’lar railed at this infuriating debility. He ought to be up and around, not forced to rely on the observations of others at a critical time like this.