“He would never let those animals loose, Pol! They might harm Petey!”
“Now, Mary, calm down. Stay in the house. We’ll come.”
“Ned’s not in Landing!” Her tone became accusatory. “I tried his number. He’d believe me!
“It’s not a question of belief, Mary.” Bay pulled the mouthpiece around to speak directly into it. “And anyone can come assist you.”
“Sue and Chuck won’t answer.”
“Sue and Chuck moved north, Mary, after that first bad rock shower from Picchu.” Bay was patient with her. The woman had a right to sound paranoid, living in seclusion as she had for so long with an unbalanced husband and so many earthshocks and volcanic rumblings.
“Pol and I are coming down, Mary,” Bay said firmly. “And we’ll bring help.” She replaced the handset.
“Who?” Pol demanded.
“Sean and Sorka. Dragons have an inhibiting effect on animals. And that way we don’t have to go through official channels.”
Pol looked at his wife with mild surprise. She had never criticized either Emily or Paul, obliquely or bluntly.
“I always felt someone should have investigated the report Drake and Ned Tubberman made. So did they. Sometimes priorities get lost in the shuffle around here.” She wrote a hasty note which she then attached to her gold dragonet’s right foot. “Find the redhead,” she said firmly, holding the triangular head to get Mariah’s full attention. Find the redhead.” Bay walked with her to the window and opened it, pointing firmly in Sorka’s direction. She filled her mind with the image of Sorka, leaning against Faranth. Mariah chirped happily. “Now, off with you.” Then, as the dragonet obediently flew off, Bay ran a finger over the black grime that was once again settling on the window sill she had swept earlier. “I’ll be glad to move north. I’m so eternally tired of black dust everywhere. Come on, Pol, we’d better get dressed warmly.”
“You volunteered to help Mary because it gives you a chance to ride a dragon again,” Pol said, chuckling.
“Pol Nietro, I have long been concerned about Mary Tubberman!”
Fifteen minutes later, two dragons came swooping over the rise to settle on the road in front of their house.
“They are so graceful,” Bay said, making certain her headscarf was tied, as much against the prevailing dust outside as in hopes of riding. As she left the house, Mariah circled down and settled to the plump shoulder with a chirrup of smug satisfaction. “You’re marvelous, Mariah, simply marvelous,” Bay murmured to her little queen as she marched right up between Faranth and Carenath. However, it was Sorka she addressed. “Thank you for coming, my dear. Mary Tubberman just contacted us. There’s trouble at Calusa. Creatures are loose, and Mary thinks something has happened to Ted. Will you take us there?”
“Officially, or unofficially?” Sean asked as Sorka glanced over at her mate.
“It’s all right to help Mary,” Bay said, looking for support from Pol, who had just come up to the dragons, his glance as admiring as ever. “And with who knows what sort of beast . . .”
“Dragons are useful,” Sorka replied with a grin, arriving at her own decision. She beckoned to Bay. “Give the lady your leg, Faranth. Here’s my hand.”
With Faranth’s assist, Bay was agile enough to settle herself quietly behind Sorka. She would never admit that she was pinched fore and aft between the ridge. Mariah gave her usual squeak of protest.
“Now, Mariah, Faranth’s perfectly safe,” Bay said, and looked over to see that Pol was settling behind Sean. The young dragonrider’s grin was very broad as he winked at Bay. Well, this time it really is an emergency, she told herself. A woman trapped in her home with small children and unidentifiable menaces prowling outside.
“Hang on tight now,” Sean said as always. He pumped his arm in the signal to launch.
Bay suppressed an exclamation as Faranth’s upward surge pushed her painfully against the stiff dorsal ridge. Her discomfort lasted only a moment, as the golden dragon leveled off and veered leisurely to her right. Bay caught her breath. She would never get accustomed to this; she didn’t want to. Riding a dragon was the most exciting thing that had happened to her since . . . since Mariah had first risen to mate.
Calusa was not a long trip by air, but the flight was tremendously exhilarating. The dragons hit one of the many air currents that were the result of Picchu’s activity, and Bay clutched at Sorka’s belt, stuffing her fingers to the knuckle in the belt loops. Flying on a dragon was so much more immediate an activity than going in the closed sled or skimmer. Really much more exhilarating. Bay turned her head so that Sorka’s tall, strong body shielded her from the worst of the airstream and the dust from Picchu that seemed to clog the air even at that altitude.
The journey gave Bay time to ponder what Mary had said about “beasts.” Red Hanrahan had reported a late-night entry into the veterinary laboratory. A portable bio-scan had been missing without being logged out, but as the bio lab was always borrowing vet equipment, the absence was dismissed. Later someone had noticed that the order in which the frozen ova of a variety of Earth-type animals were stored had been disarranged. It could have happened during the earthquakes.
Ted Tubberman had been very busy in his discontent, Bay thought grimly. One of the strictest dictums of her profession as a microbiologist was a strict limitation of genetic manipulation. She had actually been surprised, if relieved, that Kitti Ping Yung, as the senior scientist on the Pern expedition, had permitted the bioengineering of the fire-dragonets. Had Kitti Ping any idea of what a marvelous gift she had bestowed on the people of Pern?
But for Ted Tubberman, disgruntled botanist, to tinker with ova – and he had not at all understood the techniques or the process – to make independent alterations was intolerable to her, both professionally and personally. Bay knew herself to be a tolerant person, friendly and considerate, but if Ted Tubberman was dead, she would be tremendously relieved. And she would not be the only one. Just thinking about the man produced symptoms of agitation and pure fury which made Bay lose her professional detachment, and that annoyed her even more. There she was on dragonback, a marvelous opportunity for peaceful reflection, with only the noise of the wind in her ears, with all Jordan spread below her, and she was wasting contemplative time on Ted Tubberman. Bay sighed. One had so few moments of total relaxation and privacy. How she envied young Sorka, Sean, and the others.
She was astonished to see Calusa in the next valley. It was a sturdy complex, built by the Tubbermans as headquarters for their stake acres. The galvanized roofs of the main buildings bad grown to a dull dark gray from the repeated showers of volcanic ash that Picchu Peak deposited wherever the wind blew. But Bay had scarcely had time to notice that when Sorka’s cry of astonishment blew back to her.
“Jays, that building’s a shambles!” Sorka pointed to her right. Faranth abruptly turned in response to an unspoken request. The dorsal ridge bit into the soft flesh of Bay’s crotch, and she gripped Sorka’s belt more tightly.
“Look!” Sorka was directing her gaze downward.
Seventy-five meters from the main house, there was a roofed compound with separate enclosures along an L passageway, forming two sides of a fenced-in area. One of the outside walls and several of the interior partitions were smashed, and a corner of the roofing had burst outward. Bay could not recall if there had been any more earthshocks reported in that area to cause such structural damage. No other building was damaged.
As the dragon once more changed direction, Bay grabbed at Sorka, felt the girl’s reassuring fingers on hers, and then they were down.
“I do like riding Faranth. She’s so very graceful and strong,” Bay said, tentatively patting the warm hide of the dragon’s neck.