“You’ve long enough to wait on the hot sands as it is,” T’dam, the Weyrlingmaster, told them. “Singe your feet, you could, out there.”
All this time the humming was rising in volume: Meranath joined by all the other dragons in a chorus of tones that Sheledon - and others had tried to imitate but never quite succeeded. Meranath’s throat was swollen with her sound, which continued unabated and seemingly without her needing to draw breath. Soon, as the volume increased, her chest and belly would begin to vibrate too, with the intensity of her humming. K’vin was aware of the usual response in himself, a jumble of emotions; a joy that threatened to burst his heart through his chest, pride, hope, fear, yearning - oddly enough, hunger was part of it - and a sadness that, on some occasions, could make him weep.
Zulaya always wept at Hatchings - at least, until Impressions began.
Then she was jubilant, picking up on her queen’s acceptance of her clutch’s partnering.
In Fort Hold’s storage, there were file boxes full of early psychological profiles about the effect of Hatching on riders, dragons and the new weyrlings. The bonding that occurred was of such complexity and depth that no other union could be compared with it: almost overwhelming in the initial moment of recognition, and certainly the most intense emotion the young candidates had ever experienced.
Some youngsters had no trouble at all adapting to the intense and intrusive link: some suffered feelings of inadequacy and doubt. Every Weyr had its own compendium of information about what to do in such-and-such a situation. And every weyrling was assiduously trained and supported through the early months of the relationship until the Weyrleaders and Weyrlingmaster deemed he/she was stable enough to take responsibility for her/himself and her/his dragon.
But then, a rider was the dragon, and the dragon the rider, in a partnership that was so unwavering, its cessation resulted in suicide for the dragon who lost his mate. The unfortunate rider was as apt to take his life as not. If he lived, he was only half a man, totally bereft by his loss. Female riders were less apt to suicide; they at least had the option of sublimating their loss by having children.
When the little fire-lizards, who had supplied the genetic material to bio-engineer the larger dragons, had still been available, a former male rider found some solace in such a companionship. Only three fire-lizard clutches had been found in Ista in the last five decades, though it was thought more might be found in the Southern Continent, but that quest had so far been futile. The vets had decided that some sort of odd disease had infected the creatures on northern warm beaches, reducing their numbers and/or their clutches. Whatever the reason, no-one had fire-lizard companions any more.
As soon as most of the guests had crossed the hot sands, T’dam allowed the candidates to make a loose circle around the eggs. There was no golden egg in this clutch - a circumstance which had both relieved and worried the Weyrleaders.
They had five junior queens, which was quite enough for Telgar’s low flight wing. In fact, there was no dearth of queens in any of the Weyrs, but there was safety in having enough breeders.
Only five girls stood on the Hatching Ground vying to attract the attention of the greens. There should have been six, but one girl’s family had refused to give her up on Search since they claimed a union had been arranged and they could not go back on that pledge. As K’vin thought that a good third or even half of this clutch might be greens, he hoped there’d be enough suitable lads’ to impress the green hatchlings. His study of Thread fighting tactics also indicated that greens with male riders tended to be more volatile, apt to ignore their Weyrleaders’ orders in the excitement of a Falclass="underline" in short, they tended to unnecessarily show off their bravery to the rest of the Weyr. On the other hand, the green dragons were valuable to a Weyr for their speed and agility even if they didn’t have the stamina of the larger dragons. A careful wing leader alternated his green riders, resting each at least an hour during a Fall.
There had been a monograph on the advantages of female over male green riders in Threadfall. Although the text allowed the reader to make his own decision, K’vin had fallen on the side of preferring females when Search provided them.
Certainly their personalities were more stable and they posed fewer problems to the Weyrleaders. Young male green riders could go into emotional declines if they lost their weyrmates and be useless in Fall, sometimes even suiciding in their distress. On the other hand, since the greens were sexually very active, there was more danger of female riders becoming pregnant, unless they were extremely careful.
Even spontaneous abortions due to the extreme cold of between required sensible convalescence.
“Taking a short dragon-ride” was now a euphemism for ending an unwanted pregnancy. Another good reason to have a few female green riders in the Weyr: less embarrassment.
According to Zulaya, though, there had been few such terminations since she had become Weyrwoman. Probably due to the fact that too many holds had lost relatives to the last bad winter fever. Or possibly because everyone wanted to have enough children to extend their legitimate holdings or establish new ones.
The draconic humming - what Clisser called a pre-birth lullaby was reaching an almost unendurable level, climaxing when the first egg cracked open. The spectators were exhibiting the usual excitability, jumping about, weeping, singing along with the dragons. They’d calm down, too, once the Hatching had begun.
And it did. Three shells burst outwards simultaneously, fragments raining down on nearby eggs and causing them to crack as well. K’vin counted nine dragons, six of them wetly green, and revised his third of greens closer to half.
The hatchlings were so dangerous at this stage, ravenous from their encapsulation, and some of the nearer candidates hastily avoided the bumbling progress of the new-born. Two greens seemed headed for Weyrbred girls but the blonde from Ista, already noted in the Weyr for her quick wits, stepped beside one and Impression was made for both.
Three of the other greens made for lads who had demonstrated homosexual preferences in their holds. The remaining green, after lunging out of her shell, stood, weaving her head back and forth, crying piteously.
T’dam called out to the remaining girls to converge on her.
The brunette girl from Ista made for her and instantly the little green covered the intervening distance, squeaking with relief.
K’vin swallowed against the emotional lump in his throat: that instant of recognition always brought back the moment when he had experienced the shock of Impression with Charanth. And the glory of that incredibly loving mind linking with his: the knowledge that they were indissolubly one, heart, mind and soul.
We are, are we not? Charanth said, his tone rough with the memory of that rapture. Despite the fact that Charanth, like the rest of the Weyr’s dragons, was perched up along the ceiling, K’vin could hear the dragon’s sigh.
Zulaya grinned up at K’vin, aware of what was taking place within him, tears flowing down her face as the high emotional level of the Hatching affected her.
Absently K’vin thought that the glowing bulk of Meranath behind Zulaya made a great background for her beautiful new gown, red against gold.
Then another dozen or so eggs split wide open and the raucous screeching of starving little dragonets reverberated back and forth on the Ground. There was a piercing quality to these screams like lost souls. As each hatchling met its rider, the scream broke off and a mellow croon began. That quickly segued into a piteous hungry appeal which was almost more devastating than the earliest screech the weyrlings made. K’vin’s stomach invariably went into empathetic hunger cramps.
The noise of a Hatching, K’vin thought, was unique.