The Skies of Pern

Part 1 TURNOVERTurnover at Landing—1.1.31 Present Pass Aivas—Aivas Adjusted Turn 2553Since it was not at all unusual for dragonriders to be found poring overthe volumes in the extensive Aivas archives, F’lessan, rider of bronzeGolanth, was not surprised to see a girl wearing the shoulder knots of agreen rider from Monaco Bay deeply engrossed in study. What did strikehim as odd was that anyone at all was here in the main archive readingroom during Turnover. Tonight the planet, north and south continents,would officially celebrate the beginning of the thirty-second Turn ofthe present and, hopefully, final Pass of Threadfall. Even through thethick walls of the building, he could hear drums and occasionally thesound of the brass instruments from Landing’s Gather Square.Why wasn’t the girl, especially a green rider, out dancing? Why wasn’the? He grimaced. He was still trying to overcome the carelessly lustfulreputation that he had earned early in this Pass. Not that he was anydifferent from many bronze and brown riders. “Just more noticeable,”Mirrim had told him in her candid fashion. Mirrim had astonishedeveryone, including herself, when she had Impressed green Path at aBenden Weyr Hatching. Being T’gellan’s weyrmate had mellowed her naturalassertiveness, but she never spared him her blunt opinions.The girl was engrossed in her study of a foldout page depicting Rukbat’splanetary system, spread across the tilted reading desk. Not everyone’sreading choice certainly, F’lessan thought.Many of the younger riders, who would see the end of this Pass insixteen Turns, were studying to become proficient in another craft. Inthat way they would be able to support themselves once the traditionaltithe to the Weyrs ceased. While Thread still fell, Hold and Hall wouldcontinue to support the dragonriders, in exchange for aerial protectionagainst the voracious organism that could destroy anything but metal andstone. But when Thread ceased, so would that support. Those riders whosefamilies owned holds or halls might simply be reabsorbed, but weyrbreddragonriders like F’lessan had to find another way. Fortunately forF’lessan, he had discovered Honshu, in the foothills of the greatSouthern moun- tain range, and since the Weyrs had wrung out of thecouncil that loosely governed the planet the concession thatdragonriders might claim holdings on the Southern continent, F’lessanhad claimed Honshu as his. He had based most of his argument on the factthat he intended to restore and preserve the Ancient habitation and itssplendors for everyone to enjoy. He had used every ounce of hisconsiderable charm and every jot of guile with other Weyrleaders,Craftmasters, and Lord Holders in order to secure that title to himself.And once the formidable intelligence of the Artificial IntelligenceVoice Address System—Aivas—and the combined might of all the Weyrs ofPern had diverted the orbit of the menacing Red Star, he had begun tospend all the time he could spare from his duties as a Benden Wingleaderin refurbishing Honshu.F’lessan had never been a studious youngster—his interests as well ashis concentration span had been limited to escaping lessons whenever hecould and having the greatest amount of fun. Impressing bronze Golanthhad imposed discipline at last, because there was no way he wouldneglect his dragon. He had learned a determination and focus that hadresulted in his becoming one of the most adept riders, held up as a fineexample—at least of riding—by weyrlingmasters.Honshu had become another passion. The Ancient holding, with thesplendid murals in its main hall, had exerted a strange compulsion onhim from the start: to preserve the ancient treasures found there and todiscover as much as possible about its founders and residents. With theboyish impudence that was his most ingenuous characteristic, he hadappointed himself Honshu’s guardian and caretaker. He had worked harderthan anyone else in clearing out the muck and mold and restoring thefabric of the place. Tonight he had a puzzle he wanted to solve. He hadspecifically chosen this time to come to the Aivas facility, hoping tobe its sole visitor. He preferred not to share his research—hisfascination with Honshu was at odds with his reputation.You protect Honshu. I like being there very much, said his dragon,Golanth, from where he had settled himself in the hot noontime sun amongthe dragons who had brought their riders to Landing’s Turnoverfestivities. Good sunning places, clear water, and many fat herdbeasts.Still paused quietly on the threshold of the reading room, F’lessangrinned. You found it. We’ll keep it.Yes, Golanth agreed amiably.F’lessan stuffed his riding gloves into the Turnover gift of a finecarisak, giving the wide cuffs a good push; the new wher-hide leatherwas stiff, despite the good oiling he had given it yesterday evening.The carisak had been presented to him by Lessa and F’lar. He rarelythought of them as “mother” or “father”: they were his Weyrleaders, andthat was more relevant. His birthing day, his Impression Day—the daymarking the advent of Golanth into his life—and Turnover were, however,always recognized by some gift from them. F’lessan didn’t know if thiswas occasioned by their need to remind him of his parents, or themselvesof their son. Fostering was the rule in a weyr, so no child was withoutseveral people, not necessarily the birth parents, who took specialinterest in him or her. As F’lessan grew up and saw how easygoing lifewas in a weyr, and the conformity required of children in the holds, hewas as glad he’d been weyrbred.He gave the gloves one more shove to store them completely, but still hehesitated to enter the room. He didn’t want to disturb the single readerwho was so engrossed in her study that she was unaware of him standingthere.No one has ever disliked your company, said his dragon.I don’t like to break into such concentration, F’lessan replied. How dowe know she isn’t studying an alternative occupation for After?Dragons will always be needed on Pern, Golanth said stoutly.Golanth was fond of making that observation. Almost as if Golanth, too,needed to reassure himself. Maybe it was just the mind-set of a bronzedragon—or more likely Mnementh’s in particular, since F’lar’s greatbronze took a keen interest in the subtle tuition of any bronzes hatchedon Benden’s sands. However, succeeding F’lar as Weyrleader of Benden wasmost certainly not in F’lessan’s future plans. F’lessan earnestly hopedthat F’lar would lead the Weyr out of this Pass: a triumph in itself,over and above what F’lar had done at its beginning with the slenderforce he’d had available then. Being Wingleader suited F’lessan’s blithepersonality, especially now that he had claimed Honshu as his specialdomain. Now, if the Weyrleaders—or rather F’lar—would just come out andsay that he and Lessa would retire there, no one would dare contest hisclaim.Unlike the position of Lord Holders, the Weyrleadership was nothereditary. A good example was the recent stepping down of R’mart andBedella of Telgar. To establish the new leadership, the challenge hadbeen for the best bronze in the Weyr to fly the first junior queen readyto mate. J’fery, rider of bronze Willerth, was now Telgar’s Weyrleader,and Palla, golden Talmanth’s rider, was Weyrwoman. F’lessan knew themboth well, and knew they would lead Telgar Weyr well under Threadfreeskies.If we don’t make the arrogant mistakes that the Oldtimers did, F’lessanadded to himself, and expect to continue receiving the perquisites duethe Weyrs during a Pass, once there is no more Thread.A movement brought him back to the present. The girl’s boots scrapedover the stone floor as she recrossed her ankles. She was hunchedforward over the reading desk and now leaned her elbows on the table.Her profile was well lit by the softly disseminated light, and she hadthinned her lips over whatever it was she was reading. She frowned, thensighed over the wide page. F’lessan saw the well-defined arch of a blackeyebrow as her frown relaxed. She had a long and very delicately formednose, he observed with mild approval. Her hair, a midbrown sparking withred as she moved, was clipped short on top to reduce sweating under herhelmet. Left long at the nape of her neck, the wavy mass reached halfwaydown her back, where it was neatly cut off in a straight line.She turned her head abruptly, suddenly aware of his scrutiny.“Sorry. Thought I’d have the place to myself,” F’lessan said genially,striding forward, his dress shoes making very little sound on the stonefloor.Her startlement suggested to him that she, too, had thought she couldstudy in solitary quiet. She was in the act of pushing back her chairwhen he held out a hand to prevent her from rising. Most riders knew whohe was: he made a habit of flying Thread with the two southern Weyrs andusually attended every Impression. The latter was sheer indulgence onhis part, for at each Impression, he and Golanth reaffirmed theirlifelong commitment to each other.Now that he could see her full face, he recognized her.“You’re Tai, aren’t you? Zaranth’s rider?” he asked, hoping heremembered rightly.You always do, Golanth murmured.She’d Impressed, unexpectedly, nearly five Turns ago at Monaco Bay.She’d come south, though he couldn’t remember from where. There had beenso many people flooding through Landing since Aivas was discovered in2538. While she couldn’t be much older than her mid twenties, hewondered if she’d been part of the workforce during those astonishingfive Turns of Aivas. After all, Aivas had demonstrated a distinct biasfor green dragons and their riders.F’lessan stepped forward, extending his hand to her. She lookedembarrassed, dropping her eyes as soon as their hands had claspedpolitely. Her handshake was firm, if brisk almost to the point ofrudeness, and he could feel some odd ridges, scars, on the back of herhand and on her forefinger. She wasn’t pretty; she didn’t act sensual,the way some green riders did, and she was only half a head shorter thanhe was. She wasn’t too thin, but the lack of flesh on her bones gave hera slightly boyish appearance.“I’m F’lessan, Golanth’s rider, of Benden.”“Yes,” she said, shooting him a sharp look. Her eyes were set at anunusual upward slant, but she looked away so quickly he couldn’t seewhat color they were. Oddly enough, she flushed. “I know.” She seemed togather breath to continue. “Zaranth just told me that Golanth hadapologized for disturbing her nap on the ledge.” She flicked him anotheralmost contrite glance, awkwardly clasping her left wrist with her righthand so that the knuckles turned white.F’lessan grinned in his most ingratiating fashion. “By nature, Golanthis very considerate.” He gave a little bow and gestured toward thevolume open on the reading desk. “Don’t let me disturb your studies.I’ll be over there.” He pointed to the far right.He could just as easily work in the alcove as in the main room and notintrude on her solitude. In no time at all he had collected three of therecords he thought most likely to contain the information he sought, andbrought them to the smaller reading desk in the alcove. A narrow windowgave him a view of the eastern hills and the barest sparkle of the sea.He seated himself, placed the piece of paper that he had brought withhim on the table, and started riffling through the thinly coated plasticpages of the COM Tower records. He was looking for one name: StevKimmer, listed in the colony records as Stakeholder on Bitkim Island,now called Ista Hold. He needed to find any connection between Kimmerand Kenjo Fusaiyuki, who had been the original Honshu Stakeholder.In his careful clearing of debris in the ancient dwelling place, he hadfound the initials SK carved or etched on several surfaces: on the metalworktop in the garage of the ancient sled and on several drawers. Noother inhabitant had defaced or initialed anything. The only SK notlisted as going north in the Second Crossing—when the Thread-beleagueredcolonists had resettled at Fort—was Stev Kimmer. Previous researchrevealed that the man had disappeared with a sled after Ted Tubberman’sillegal launch of an appeal for help from old Earth. Kimmer had not beenseen again. The loss of a functional sled had been officially regretted;Kimmer’s absence had not.