“How long has it been since there was an update on the grubs?”
She shrugged. “That’s not the point. We need a diversion, and this makes a good one. Also, someone should do it for the Agric records. And we’ll probably have to go down during Fall to see if the grubs really do what they’re supposed to do.”
“Do you want to put us out of business?” he asked.
Zulaya shook her head. “As long as Thread falls from Pernese skies, we won’t be out of business. Psychologically, it’s imperative that we keep as much of the stuff as possible off the surface of the planet. The grubs are just an extra added precaution; not the total answer.”
The two Weyrleaders had forgotten to caution their dragons against mentioning the destination, and it was all over the Weyr by dinner-time. They were besieged by requests from weyrfolk to be taken along. Even Tisha was not shy about requesting a lift.
“Some of the bronzes would need to carry two passengers,” K’vin said, doing some quick calculations.
“The weyrlings would have to stay,” Zulaya told him, that necessity causing a brief hitch to the euphoria. But she shrugged.
“We’ll make an occasion for T’dam to take them down once they are flighted, but they’re weyrbound this time.”
“That wouldn’t be until after Thread has started,” K’vin said, looking doubtful.
“Sure, we know when it falls, north or south, and a day off for the auxiliaries is no big thing. Plan it for a rainy day, here,” Zulaya said, “and they won’t mind for the sun down south.” So that issue was settled.
The entire Weyr assembled, loading passengers and supplies for an outing that was now scheduled for three days.
K’vin allowed they would need that long to make a diligent survey of grub penetration. He brought with him maps and writing material so he could make accurate records.
The morning had its moment of humor: getting Tisha aboard brown Branuth had been a struggle, involving not only Branuth’s rider, T’lel (who laughed so hard he had hiccups), but four other riders, the strongest and tallest.
Branuth, an extremely quizzical expression on his long face, craned his head around to watch and got a bad cramp in his neck muscles doing so. T’lel and Z’ran had to massage him.
“Stop that and get up here, T’lel,” Tisha was yelling, her thick legs stuck out at angles from her perch between the neck ridges. “I’ll be split. And if I’m split, you’ll suffer. I never should have said I’d come. I should know better than to leave my caverns for any reason whatsoever. This is very uncomfortable. Stop that guffawing, T’lel. Stop it right now. It isn’t funny where I’m sitting. Get up here and let’s go!” Getting Tisha aboard Branuth had taken so much time that everyone else was in place and ready to go by the time T’lel did manage to take his place in front of Tisha.
“Not only am I being split, I’m also been bisected by these ridges. Did you sharpen them on purpose, T’lel? No wonder riders are so skinny. They’d have to be. Don’t dragons grow ridges for large people? I should have had K’vin take me up. Charanth is a much bigger dragon. Why couldn’t you have put me up on your bronze, K’vin?” Tisha shouted across the intervening space.
K’vin was trying to preserve his dignity as Weyrleader by not laughing at the sight of her, but he didn’t dare look in her direction again. Instead he swiveled his torso so he could scan everyone, pleased to see all eyes on him, rider, passengers and dragon. He peered upwards to the rim where more dragons awaited their departure, poised well clear of the newly positioned Eye and Finger Rocks. Now he raised his arm.
Charrie, they are to assume their wing positions in the air.
They know, Charnath sounded petulant, for this was a frequent drill. K’vin slapped his neck affectionately with one hand while he gave his upheld right arm the pump.
All the dragons in the Bowl lifted, swirling up dust and grit from the Bowl floor with a battery of wings, and then those on the Rim lifted, sorting themselves out in the air to form their respective wings. Zulaya and the other queens rose above the others.
And in formation in jig time, too. Let’s go, Charrie.
With a great leap, Charanth was airborne. One wing-sweep and he was level with the wings, another and he was in front of the queens.
Heads turned upwards and Charanth dutifully angled himself earthward so that all could see the Weyrleader.
Inform the Weyr that our destination is the Sea of Azov.
I have!
K’vin pumped his arm in the continuous gesture to signal, Go between! The entire Weyr blinked out simultaneously.
Steady, he cautioned Charanth, pleased with that disciplined departure. Now we go!!
Three seconds he counted, and then the warm air above the brilliantly blue Sea of Azov was like the smack of a hot towel in his face. Charanth rumbled in pleasure.
K’vin was far more interested in discovering that the ranks of the dragons, wing by wing, had arrived still in formation.
He grinned.
Please inform the wing leaders to take their riders to their separate destinations.
One by one the wings disappeared, with the exception of T’lel’s which had picked the Sea area for their excursion site.
The queens started to glide towards the shore too, for they carried quite a few of the supplies which Tisha would need to set up her hearths for the evening meal.
Let’s wait and let them all get safely to the surface, K’vin told Charanth, although part of him wanted to see how Tisha managed to dismount Branuth. He was therefore somewhat surprised, and at first a little concerned, when he saw a brown dragon detach itself from the main wing and glide in a landing, on the water, just short of the shore. Charanth had his head down and was observing the effort.
Branuth says she ordered it. She’s swimming free of his back.
Charanth sounded amused, too, and K’vin chuckled.
That was much more dignified.
Branuth says it was easier on him, too, but he doesn't think he should do the same back at Telgar.
Not with the water that cold this time of year.
We can now land? Branuth says the sun is warm.
I thought you wanted to hunt. Later. NOW I want to get warm all over.
Charanth’s preference was almost unanimous as the dragons spread out on both the pebbled beach and the shore line which was covered with a shrub that, when bruised by large dragon bodies, gave off a rich pungent odor which was not at all unpleasant.
Tisha had some of the weyrfolk off finding kindling and stones to make camp-fires, and to see what fruits might be ripe, and another group set to fish where boulders had tumbled down in to the Sea like a breakwater.
“I’m going for a long swim,” Zulaya called out to him as he and Charanth glided to a landing. She was already stripping off her jacket. “Meranath wants one, too.” She touched down long enough to strip off the rest of her clothing, which she left in a neat pile on a boulder before making her way to the water.
“What about the grubs?”
“They’ll wait,” she yelled over her shoulder, wading out until the water was deep enough for swimming.
We don t have to go find grubs now, do we? asked Charanth plaintively, and the eyes he turned up to his rider whirled with a yellow anxiety.
No, we don’t, K’vin said. Grubs were an excuse to leave the Weyr for a few days.
He shucked his clothes and dragon and rider joined the others in the warm Azovian waters.
It might not have pleased K’vin to learn that almost every rider procrastinated over the stated objective of the journey south: grubs were, in fact, probably the last thing on anyone’s mind. Sunning, swimming in the pleasant waters, hunting for dragons and food-gathering for humans took precedence and space and time for absolute privacy.