Emily took up the discussion then, passing to each of the delegation copies of the directive she and Paul had been drafting. “The transfer is being organized much as our space journey here. We have the technicians and the equipment to make a northern crossing as easy as possible. We have enough fuel to power two of the shuttles to transport equipment too bulky to fit on any of Jim’s ships. It’ll be a one-way trip for the shuttles: they’ll be dismantled for parts. When there’s time, we can send a crew back to scavenge the other three. Joel Lilienthal has been working on priority shipments for the big sleds, taking as few as possible from the fighting strength.”
“Speaking of fighting strength, has that young upstart taught them any new tricks?” Cherry demanded imperiously, looking down her long nose at Paul. “Speaking of eruptions, as we were, how are those beasts of Kitti Ping’s progressing? I see them flitting around all the time. Mighty pretty they look in formation, but are they any good in battle?”
“So far,” Paul began cautiously, “they’ve matured well beyond the projections. The young Connells have proved splendid leaders.”
“They were the best ground-crew leaders I had,” Cabot Carter said, disgruntled.
“They’ll be superior as aerial fighters,” Paul went on, overriding the legist’s unspoken criticism. “Self-perpetuating, too, unlike sleds and skimmers.”
“D’you know that for sure?” Cherry demanded in her raspy voice. “Blossom’s experiments aren’t all that successful.”
“Her grandmother’s are,” Paul replied with a firm confidence he hoped would reassure Cherry. “According to Pol and Bay, the males are producing their equivalent to sperm. Genetic analysis has started but will take months. We might have direct proof of dragon fertility by then, as the gold females mature later.” Paul tried not to sound defensive, but he wanted to counter the very bad publicity surrounding Wind Blossom’s brutes. Especially when the young dragonriders were trying so very hard to perfect themselves for combat against Thread. Though it was not public knowledge, Sean and his group had already served as messengers and had transported light loads efficiently.
Paul had a report on his desk from Telgar and his group. They had done a survey of the old crater above the fort hold, with its myriad bubble caves and twisting passages, and had pronounced it a suitable accommodation for the dragons and their riders. Telgar had a team working to make the place habitable, while they still had power in the heavy equipment. A stream was being dammed up for a dragon-sized bathing lake, water piped into the largest of the ground-level caverns for kitchen use, and a chimney hole had been bored for a large hearth complex.
Obviously, that would be the pattern for future human habitation on Pern, and for some, accustomed to sprawling living space, it would take some getting used to. But it was the best way to survive!
PART THREE
CROSSING
Chapter 18
“POL?”
IT TOOK a moment for the biologist to identify the anxious voice. “Mary?” His response was equally tentative, but he pulled at Bay’s sleeve to attract her attention away from the monitor she was frowning at. “Mary Tubberman?”
“Please don’t turn an old friend away unheard.”
“Mary,” Pol said kindly, “you weren’t shunned.” He shared the earpiece with Bay, who nodded in vigorous approval.
“I might as well have been.” The woman’s tone was bitter, then her voice broke on a tremulous note and both Ray and Pol could hear her weeping. “Look, Pol, something’s happened to Ted. Those creatures of his are loose. I’ve pulled down the Thread shutters, but they’re still prowling about and making awful noises.”
“Creatures? What creatures?” Pol locked glances with Bay. Beyond them, their dragonets roused from a doze and chirped in empathic anxiety.
“The beasts he’s been rearing.” Mary sounded as if she thought Pol knew what she was talking about and was being deliberately obtuse. “He—he stole some frozen in-vitros from veterinary and he used Kitti’s program on them to make them obey him, but they’re still . . . things. His masterpiece does nothing to stop them.” Again her bitterness was trenchant.
“What makes you think something has happened to Ted?” Pol asked, picking up on the words Bay mouthed to him as she gestured urgently.
“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 got 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 an 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 windowsill 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.”