“We do,” M’hall agreed. “Although how long we can keep the active systems alive is a good question. We’re already having parts problems with the electrical distribution.”
“So it’d have to be passive, then,” Emorra noted. “If my memory is correct, the power supplies on the Eridani equipment are rated for centuries when not in use.”
“How long will the power last when they’re in use?” M’hall asked.
“They’ll support decades of continuous use,” Emorra said. “From what Mother told me, the Eridani try to engineer their equipment for the long term.”
M’hall was impressed. “Four centuries is definitely ‘long term.’ ”
Tieran shook his head. “Wind Blossom said that the Eridani think in millennia and more.”
The door to the faculty room opened and Seamus O’Connell peered in. M’hall smiled and waved him over.
“I was wondering when you’d come wandering by,” M’hall said as his youngest and largest brother pulled a seat over to join them.
“The Lord Holders have been on to me about the stonecutters,” Seamus began with no preamble. “It occurs to me that you might want them yourself for this project.”
“It didn’t seem clear to me that this project has been approved,” Emorra remarked.
Seamus glanced at M’hall for confirmation. M’hall laughed. “My little brother is making his feelings on the notion quite clear.”
Tieran looked thoughtfully at the two of them. “You mean, where Benden leads, who will fail to follow?”
“Only when Benden is right,” Seamus added in his soft, deep voice. He gave Tieran a frank look. “It’s a risky proposition, but…”
“Our parents thrived on similar ‘risky propositions,’ ” M’hall finished.
“The dragons,” Tieran guessed.
“So it seems fair that we should entrust their deliverance to the same family that has guarded them so well,” Emorra said with a nod toward M’hall.
“It’s not that,” Seamus demurred. “Benden makes more sense.” At the others’ questioning looks, the big engineer explained, “I’ve looked over the survey maps of the Weyr. There aren’t many places to hide a new structure. But there is one good place, except…”
“What?” M’hall prompted.
“It is situated near a fault line,” Seamus replied. “I can almost guarantee that the rooms will be cut off from the Weyr by a rockslide within the century.” He winked at them and added conspiratorially, “Or sooner, if need be.”
“But why-” Emorra began.
“Oh!” Tieran interrupted. “I see.” He turned to Emorra. “We build the rooms and then cut them off from the rest of the Weyr so that no one will disturb them until they’re needed.”
“But how will anyone know about them?” Emorra asked. Tieran shrugged.
“So you’d be wanting the stonecutters, then?” Seamus asked. He looked at each of them in turn, then added, “Because if you do, you’ll have to fight Mendin to get them.”
Mendin consoled himself that he still had two of the stonecutters and that possession was nine-tenths of the law. All he needed was to find sufficiently trained personnel to use them-and quickly. He could see himself apologizing oh-so-obsequiously to the Weyrleaders: “Oh, I am sorry! If only I’d known beforehand that you wanted them.”
Yes, that apology would do nicely, Mendin decided. He was about to call over one of his minions when he was distracted by a commotion at the door.
It was his oldest son, Leros, whom Mendin had left to mind the Hold.
“The stonecutters are gone,” Leros whispered when they were seated and the others in the room had returned to their own conversations. “Dragonriders from Benden Weyr took them.”
For a moment blind fury coursed through Mendin’s veins. How dare they!
He reasserted an iron grip on himself before his emotions were displayed on his face.
“I see,” he said aloud, furiously racking his brain for a way to turn this to his advantage. He looked up at Leros. “I think that Fort Hold should throw its full support behind this project.”
He turned to the others and raised his voice so that all could hear. “I can see now that this will be a great legacy to our descendants and nothing less than they would expect of us. Just as our ancestors bequeathed us the dragons for our defense, so we should bequeath these medical rooms for the defense of the dragons.”
The other Lord Holders exchanged looks as they digested this change of tack on Mendin’s part.
“I agree,” Malon of Tillek seconded firmly. “Pern is nothing without the dragons.”
And so it was decided.
“You are the most well-trained doctor we have,” Wind Blossom began again, hoping that somehow repetition might alter Janir’s response.
“In human physiology, Wind Blossom,” Janir protested again. “I know nothing of the dragons or the Pernese genetic code.”
“But you’ve learned so much that is applicable through your medical training,” Wind Blossom replied. “It wouldn’t take you long to pick up on the Pernese genetics.”
“But I am the head physician,” Janir objected. “I will never have the time you’ll need.” He took a deep breath and shook his head in wonderment at her obstinacy. “I will have too many patients to deal with and there is no substitute. In fact, I should be training my replacement this very moment.”
Wind Blossom raised her eyebrows.
“I should be training three replacements,” Janir corrected himself in response to her unspoken query. “And that will also eat into my time.” He glanced over at Emorra and Tieran. “You are going to have to use them-they know more about this than I do.”
Wind Blossom deflated with a sigh. “I suppose you are right,” she conceded. “But if I cannot convince them…”
“Then ask M’hall,” Janir replied. “I think he’ll convince them.”
“If he can’t, then I want to know that you’ll take their place,” Wind Blossom declared.
“If they won’t work with you, Wind Blossom, we’ll talk again,” Janir replied.
Just then M’hall entered the room, wearing a victorious look.
Late that evening, well after the Holders and Weyrleaders had unanimously agreed to use the last of the stonecutters to create a medical laboratory at Benden Weyr, and had agreed that Wind Blossom would be responsible for its contents, Emorra found herself in the faculty lounge along with Tieran. Wind Blossom had gone to her bed much earlier, after informing Tieran and Emorra that she would require their help on the project.
Cool, clear Benden wine had been poured liberally in celebration.
“Tieran,” Emorra said as the effects of the wine belatedly registered on her, “I’ve drunk more than I should. We’ll need our rest. Mother will be certain to want to start early in the morning.”
Tieran looked reluctantly at his half-full glass, tossed it back in one gulp, and rose. “May I escort you to your room?”
Emorra dimpled, and allowed Tieran to help her to her feet.
Tieran realized that he was taller than Emorra; he couldn’t remember when that had happened. Her cheeks were flushed with wine and her eyes-her almond eyes were warm and enticing.
“If I made a pass at you,” he suddenly asked, “would you mind?”
“No,” Emorra said softly, leaning toward him.
Tentatively, Tieran leaned forward and kissed her.
In the two days since the council, Wind Blossom appropriated a classroom, turned a surgery into a lab, and slept for a grand total of six hours-Tieran knew because he’d gone to sleep after she did, and he’d gotten a bit more than five hours of sleep.
They were in the classroom now. Wind Blossom was at the blackboard, chalk in hand, writing down their suggestions.