“But it is possible,” Wind Blossom reiterated without conviction.
M’hall nodded in understanding. “It’s particularly possible for those to whom the other explanation is too incredible.”
“Or uncomfortable,” Wind Blossom added.
“And not too many people know about all the capabilities of fire-lizards,” M’hall said. In a lower voice, he added, “Or dragons.”
After a moment of silent reflection, he continued. “So, if they came from the future, what then?”
Wind Blossom shrugged. “Perhaps it was a minor outbreak, and these two were the only ones who succumbed to it.”
“That’s the best-case scenario,” M’hall agreed. His voice hardened. “What about the worst-case?”
Wind Blossom pursed her lips tightly before responding. “In the worst case, the disease could be transmitted to others.”
“Including the dragons?”
Wind Blossom nodded.
“What about the watch-whers?” M’hall pressed.
“Those, too, in the worst case,” Wind Blossom agreed solemnly. “Although I would have greater hopes for them.”
“Why?” M’hall asked.
“I made an effort to differentiate them somewhat more from the original genome than we did with the dragons,” she answered.
“I always knew that dragons were fire-lizards writ large,” M’hall said. “What were watch-whers, then?”
“Dragons ‘writ’ differently,” Wind Blossom told him.
“Could you differentiate the dragons from the ‘original genome,’ too?” M’hall asked.
“Perhaps,” Wind Blossom responded. “But whether it would be enough, I don’t know.”
“Why not work on a cure for all three-fire-lizards, dragons, and watch-whers?”
“Because if I did that,” Wind Blossom responded, “then, judging by those two fire-lizards, I failed.”
M’hall stroked his chin thoughtfully. “How long do you think it would be before someone comes up with those beads and uses them to make harnesses?”
“Do you mean, how far in the future do I think those fire-lizards came from?” Wind Blossom asked.
M’hall nodded.
Wind Blossom shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“But sooner in the future rather than later,” M’hall suggested. “I can’t see fire-lizards jumping far between times.”
“They were sick, disoriented,” Wind Blossom pointed out. “I know too little of the breed to say whether they’d jump farther or shorter in such circumstances.”
“Well, they must have been here before: To return here they must have had a good visual image of the place.”
“Perhaps,” Wind Blossom said. At M’hall’s probing look, she expounded, “I recall that fire-lizards can sometimes locate a person they know in an unfamiliar setting.”
M’hall nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that, too. But usually they go where they’ve been before, looking for someone they already know. Given that they were sick-”
Wind Blossom raised an eyebrow reproachfully. M’hall caught the look and laughed.
“Very well,” he said, “I’ll leave the diagnosing to you. Are you saying they might have gone back in time to a familiar person?”
“I was saying that I don’t know,” Wind Blossom responded.
M’hall nodded and resumed a thoughtful expression. After a moment he stirred. “Is there anything you can do? Is this talk just conjectural?”
“Perhaps I can do something,” Wind Blossom said. “I would need to know more about the problem.”
“And there’s no way to do that,” M’hall said. “Not unless another fire-lizard or”-his voice dropped-“a dragon falls out of the sky.”
“I have considered that, yes,” Wind Blossom replied.
M’hall gave her a startled look. “Is that why you ordered all that agenothree?”
“Do you mean nitric acid, HNO3?” Wind Blossom asked primly.
The redheaded dragonrider blushed. “Yes, I do,” he said, looking chagrinned. “When you’re flying Threadfall, you tend to slur words, so it becomes agenothree.”
“Mmm,” Wind Blossom murmured noncommittally.
“You’re teasing me!” M’hall exclaimed suddenly with a startled laugh. “I don’t believe it! You’re actually teasing me.”
Wind Blossom lowered her eyes shamefully for a moment and then raised them again to meet his. “It is very rude of me, I know,” she said sheepishly.
“I never even knew you had a sense of humor.”
“My mother would berate me for it,” Wind Blossom agreed. “However, it has kept me company in trying times. I had hoped to keep it under control but apparently it got away from me again.”
“Oh, you enjoyed that all right,” M’hall said, wagging a finger at her. “Don’t deny it, you enjoyed it.”
Wind Blossom nodded. “I do not deny it.”
M’hall sobered suddenly. “You say that your humor surfaces in trying times? Are these trying times?”
“Every day is a trying time,” Wind Blossom answered evasively. M’hall pinned her with his gaze and the old lady accepted his chiding with a nod of her head.
“We have embarked on a great experiment in ecological engineering,” she explained. “Every ecosystem is resilient and conservative in nature. It will always try to maintain the status quo. Adding dragons, watch-whers, Tubberman’s grubs, and, most importantly, all our Terran ecosystem has altered the status quo. It is inevitable that there will be repercussions.”
“And it’s your job to guard against those repercussions,” M’hall said firmly.
“It’s my job for this generation,” Wind Blossom corrected. “I am eighty-one years old, M’hall. I might possibly live to see ninety, but certainly not one hundred.”
“Did you ever determine the cause of the early dementia?” M’hall asked choosing his words carefully.
“No,” Wind Blossom replied softly. “The emergency with the fire-lizard came before I could complete my analysis.”
M’hall shifted uncomfortably.
Wind Blossom noted his unease. “Janir and I have talked about this,” she told him. “We agree that my short-term memory is fading, but my long-term memory, particularly of events in my youth, remains strong.”
“Is there anything we can do?” M’hall asked softly, relieved that Wind Blossom had answered the question he could not bring himself to ask.
“Janir knows to keep an eye on me,” Wind Blossom said. “And now, so do you.”
“And Emorra?”
“I have not told her myself, but I believe she has made her own diagnosis,” Wind Blossom said after a moment. She looked the dragonrider squarely in the eyes. “You know how difficult it is to lose a parent.”
M’hall nodded swiftly in agreement.
“Janir and I have agreed that whatever is reducing mental capacity in the elderly will probably not be a factor in the future,” Wind Blossom continued.
M’hall thought that over for a moment. He could think of no one still alive near Wind Blossom’s age. His own mother had been only seventy when she died, and his father, Sean, had been sixty-two. He did not need Wind Blossom to tell him that the harder life on Pern would mean reduced life expectancies.
He sought a new subject. “What happens after you, Wind Blossom?”
“In the Eridani Way there should be others for the succeeding generations.”
“Do you mean Emorra and Tieran?” M’hall asked. “That smacks of slavery, to expect them to continue blindly in the tradition.”
“It is more of a genetic destiny,” Wind Blossom said. The look in her eyes made M’hall realize that she herself was an example of that “genetic destiny.” “The Eridani Way involves a discipline transcending generations and millennia, a dedication to the good of the ecosystem.”