He pulled out a chair, indicating that she should seat herself as he dragged another over for himself, switching it around so he could straddle it, resting his arms on the top. She propped her arm on the table, watching as the numbweed changed from clear to opaque on the scrape. Trying to appear more solicitous than overbearing, he let the silence lengthen, wondering what he could ask without giving additional offense. He didn't usually have problems striking up conversations. He was beginning to wonder if he should have just left her alone in the reading room. Just then the significance of all those Yokorecords made sense.
"May I ask why you're interested in the Ghosts?"
She stared at him in such astonishment that her mouth, with its very well shaped lips, fell slightly open. He gestured.
"Why else would anyone be looking over Turns of the end of the thirteenth month? When the Ghost Showers occur?"
She looked everywhere but at him and then, suddenly, blurted out, "I often do some research for Master Wansor and he'd heard that the Ghosts-which we can't see down here-but you'd know about them since you're from Benden-" she stopped, swallowing as if she'd said something untoward.
"Yes, I know that they are not visible here in the southern hemisphere, and yes, they do appear extremely bright and numerous right now. I did notice. In fact, many people have noticed," he went on encouragingly, "but, having lived in Benden Weyr all my life, I remember that on other occasions, they have been as bright and as numerous. I have studied some astronomy, so would a Benden dragonrider not totally untutored in his local starscape be any help to you?"
"Personal observations are always admissible," she said rather primly. "Others have noted," and she gave him the ghost of a smile, pointing to several of the volumes, "their brightness and numbers occur in cycles of seven Turns."
"That's right, because I was three when I saw the pretty lights and asked about them, and this is the fifth time I've seen them so brightly in their hundreds. Here, I'll help you put those heavy books away. Spare irritating your hand."
She seemed about to hesitate, but he stacked five volumes deftly on one arm and walked to the proper shelf. She hastily gathered up more.
"Did you have any luck with your research?" she asked when they had finished racking.
"Actually, no," he said. "But there may not be a source."
"With all this?" She indicated the full ranks of shelving around them.
"Aivas didn't know everything," he said, once again managing to startle her. "That's not heretical, you realize, because he couldn't have recorded anything after the Second Crossing."
"I know."
There was an odd note in that simple agreement that he didn't dare query.
"The answer to my puzzle probably doesn't even exist," he added.
"What puzzle?" She inclined her body slightly in his direction.
Ah, she's curious. That's good. "Initials." He reached into his belt and found the slip of paper. "S.K." He smoothed it out to show her. She frowned slightly, puzzled but not totally reserved. "I believe the initials are Stev Kimmer's," he said.
She blinked. "Who?"
"A real villain-"
"Oh! The man who absconded with a functional sled after the Tubberman launch?"
"You know your history."
She flushed, ducking her head. "I was very fortunate to be accepted to the Landing School."
"You were? I hope you were a better student than I was."
"But you were already a rider," she said, startled into looking directly at him. Her eyes were an unusual shade of green.
He grinned. "That didn't necessarily mean I was a good student. If you're still studying," and he gestured at the shelving, "then you learned good habits. Did you stay on here when you finished schooling?"
She glanced away from him, and he couldn't imagine what he had said to alarm her.
"Yes," she said at last. "I was fortunate. You see," she explained hesitantly, "my father brought us all here. From Keroon. He was a Smithcraft journeyman and helped-here."
"Oh?" F'lessan drawled the exclamation out encouragingly when she faltered.
"My brothers were his apprentices, and my mother took my sister and me to the school, in case we were lucky enough to be accepted. My sister didn't like school."
"Not everyone does," F'lessan said with a self-deprecating chuckle. Her quick glance gave him the impression that she had taken to learning as a fire-lizard to the air. "So… ?" he prompted.
"Then, during the last Turn when everyone at Admin was so busy, Master Samvel sent me here to work. My father was anxious to find a good place to hold and they went off."
And, F'lessan thought from the sorrow in the set of her shoulders and dejected attitude, she had never heard from them again.
"Did anyone look for them?"
"Oh, yes," she said quickly, glancing up. "T'gellan sent out a full wing." She looked away again.
"No trace at all?" he asked gently.
"None. Everyone was very kind. I was apprenticed to Master Wansor-I read for him. He liked my voice."
"I don't wonder at that," F'lessan said. He had already noticed how expressive her voice could be.
"That's how I came to be at the Monaco Bay Hatching and Impressed Zaranth."
"Reading to Master Wansor?"
"No," she said in an amused tone. "He liked to have someone telling him what was going on. So we were seated to one side of the Hatching Ground."
F'lessan chuckled. "Yes, I remember. Master Wansor had to push you at Zaranth. You didn't know what to do: respond to the hatchling or tell Master Wansor what was happening."
The smile that lit her face and her green eyes was evocative of the sense of incredulity and wonder that overwhelmed anyone lucky enough to Impress a dragon. His smile answered hers and both were silent for a long moment in fond reminiscences of their Impressions.
"You're still keeping up with your studies?" F'lessan asked, indicating the old tome she'd been studying.
"Why not?" she asked, with a wry grin. "It's as good an occupation for a dragonrider as any."
After a pause, she asked, "Have you tried the Charter?"
He blinked. "The Charter?"
She waved toward the special case where the original Charter of the Pern Colony was housed.
"Kimmer was an original colonist, wasn't he?" she said. "He'd've had to sign his name somewhere, even as a contractor, wouldn't he?"
F'lessan got to his feet so fast he had to catch the chair from falling. His movement startled her.
"Now, why didn't I think of that?" he exclaimed with exaggerated self-castigation. He strode to the airtight case that held what was considered the most valuable, and venerable, document on the planet.
Fort Hold had ceremoniously returned the Charter to Landing. Indeed, no one had known what had been stored in the thick container that had been gathering dust with other Hold treasures until Aivas had told them what to look for. Aivas was certainly the only intelligence that had known the combination of the digital lock. Inside its airtight case, the Charter had been revealed to be pristine. Upon close examination, Masterwoodsmith Benelek remarked that the plastic-coated pages could not have been damaged by anything short of being chopped into little pieces by very sharp blades. Now the Charter was enshrined behind some of Master Morilton's clear thick panes, mounted on a mechanism-also an Aivas design-that turned its pages to the one required.
"The capital letters would be similar, wouldn't they? Printed or written," F'lessan muttered. "Your research skills are better honed than mine." He shot her an appreciative grin. "Let's get to the end… Ah, contractor, contractor," he said under his breath as the pages shifted in sequence to the final ones containing signatures, many of them mere illegible scrawls. There were three sections: the first, of the Charterers; the second, longer, included the names of all the Contractors; while the third listed all minor children over five years of age who had come with their parents on this momentous venture.