Turbulence, savage, ruthless, destructive; a pressure inexorable and deadly. Churning masses of slick, sickly gray surfaces that heaved and dipped. Heat as massive as a tidal wave. Fear! Terror! An inarticulate longing!
A scream was torn from a single throat, a scream like a knife upon raw nerves!
“Don’t leave me alone!” The cry came from cords lacerated by the extreme of anguish; a command, an entreaty that seemed echoed by the black mouths of the weyrs, by dragon minds and human hearts.
Ramoth sprang aloft Mnementh was instantly beside her. Then every dragon in the Weyr was a-wing, the fire lizards, too; the air groaned with the effort to support the migration.
Brekke could not see. Her eyes were filled with blood from vessels burst by the force of her cry. But she knew there was a speck in the sky, tumbling downward with a speed that increased with every length; a plunge as fatal as the one which Canth had tried to stop over the stony heights of the High Reaches range.
And there was no consciousness in that plummeting speck, no echo, however faint, to her despairing inquiry. The arrow of dragons ascended, great wings pumping. The arrow thickened, once, twice, three times as other dragons arrived, making a broad path in the sky, steadily striving for that falling mote.
It was as if the dragons became a ramp that received the unconscious body of their weyrmate, received and braked its fatal momentum with their own bodies, until the last segment of overlapping wings eased the broken-winged ball of the bloody brown dragon to the floor of the Weyr.
Half-blinded as she was, Brekke was the first person to reach Canth’s bleeding body, F’nor still strapped to his burned neck Her hands found F’nor’s throat, her fingers the tendon where his pulse should beat. His flesh was cold and sticky to the touch and ice would be less hard.
“He isn’t breathing,” someone cried. “His lips are blue!”
“He’s alive, he’s alive,” Brekke chanted. There, one faint shallow flutter against her seeking fingers. No, she didn’t imagine it. Another.
“There wasn’t any air on the Red Star. The blueness. He suffocated.”
Some half-forgotten memory prompted Brekke to wrench F’nor’s jaws apart. She covered his mouth with hers and exhaled deeply into his throat. She blew air into his lungs and sucked it out.
“That’s right, Brekke,” someone cried. “That may work. Slow and steady! Breathe for yourself or you’ll pass out.”
Someone grabbed her painfully around the waist. She clung to F’nor’s limp body until she realized that they were both being lifted from the dragon’s neck.
She heard someone talking urgently, encouragingly to Canth.
“Canth! Stay!”
The dragon’s pain was like a cruel knot in Brekke’s skull. She breathed in and out. Out and in. For F’nor, for herself, for Canth. She was conscious as never before of the simple mechanics of breathing; conscious of the muscles of her abdomen expanding and contracting around a column of air which she forced up and out, in and out.
“Brekke! Brekke!”
Hard hands pulled at her. She clutched the wherhide tunic beneath her.
“Brekke! He’s breathing for himself now. Brekke!”
They forced her away from him. She tried to resist but everything was a bloody blur. She staggered, her hand touching dragon hide.
Brekke. The pain-soaked tone was faint, as if from an incalculable distance, but it was Canth. Brekke?
“I am not alone!” And Brekke fainted, mind and body overtaxed by an effort which had saved two lives.
Spun out by ceaseless violence, the spores fell from the turbulent raw atmosphere of the thawing planet toward Pern, pushed and pulled by the gravitic forces of a triple conjunction of the system’s other planets.
The spores dropped through the atmospheric envelope of Pern. Attenuated by the friction of entry, they fell in a rain of hot filaments on the surface of the planet.
Dragons rose, destroying them with flaming breath. What Thread eluded the airborne beasts was efficiently seared into harmless motes by ground crews, or burrowed after by sandworm and fire lizard.
Except on the eastern slope of a northern mountain plantation of hardwood trees. There men had carefully drawn back from the leading Edge of the Fall. They watched, one with intent horror, as the silver rain scorched leaf and fell hissing into the soil. When the leading Edge had passed over the crest of the mountain, the men approached the points of impact cautiously, the nozzles of the flame throwers they carried a half-turn away from spouting flame.
The still smoking hole of the nearest Thread entry was prodded with a metal rod. A brown fire lizard darted from the shoulder of one man and, chirping to himself, waddled over to the hole. He poked an inquisitive half-inch of nose into the ground. Then he rose in a dizzying movement and resumed his perch on the specially padded shoulder of his handler and began to preen himself fastidiously.
His master grinned at the other men.
“No Thread, F’lar. No Thread, Corman!”
The Benden Weyrleader returned Asgenar’s smile, hooking his thumbs in his broad riding belt.
“And this is the fourth Fall with no burrows and no protection, Lord Asgenar?”
The Lord of Lemos Hold nodded, his eyes sparkling. “No burrows on the entire slope.” He turned in triumph to the one man who seemed dubious and said, “Can you doubt the evidence of your eyes, Lord Groghe?”
The ruddy-faced Lord of Fort Hold shook his head slowly.
“C’mon, man,” said the white-haired man with the prominent, hooked nose. “What more proof do you need? You’ve seen the same thing on lower Keroon, you’ve seen it in Telgar Valley. Even that idiot Vincet of Nerat Hold has capitulated.”
Groghe of Fort Hold shrugged, indicating a low opinion of Vincet, Lord Holder of Nerat.
“I just can’t put any trust in a handful of squirming insects. Relying on dragons makes sense.”
“But you’ve seen grubs devour Thread!” F’lar persisted. His patience with the man was wearing thin.
“It isn’t right for a man,” and Groghe drew himself up, “to be grateful to grubs!”
“I don’t recall your being overgrateful to dragonkind either,” Asgenar reminded him with pointed malice.
“I don’t trust grubs!” Groghe repeated, jutting his chin out at a belligerent angle. The golden fire lizard on his shoulder crooned softly and rubbed her down-soft head against his cheek. The man’s expression softened slightly. Then he recalled himself and glared at F’lar. “Spent my whole life trusting dragonkind. I’m too old to change. But you’re running the planet now. Do as you will. You will anyhow!”
He stalked away, toward the waiting brown dragon who was Fort Hold’s resident messenger. Groghe’s fire lizard extended her golden wings, crooning as she balanced herself against his jolting strides.
Lord Corman of Keroon fingered his large nose and blew it out briskly. He had a disconcerting habit of unblocking his ears that way. “Old fool. He’ll use grubs. He’ll use them. Just can’t get used to the idea that it’s no good wanting to go to the Red Star and blasting Thread on its home ground. Groghe’s a fighter. Doesn’t sit well with him to barricade his Hold, as it were, and wait out the siege. He likes to charge into things, straighten them out his way.”
“The Weyrs appreciate your help, Lord Corman,” F’lar began.
Corman snorted, blew out his ears again before waving aside F’lar’s gratitude. “Common sense. Protect the ground. Our ancestors were a lot smarter than we are.”
“I don’t know about that,” Asgenar said, grinning.
“I do, young fellow,” Corman retorted decisively. Then added hesitantly, “How’s F’nor? And what’s his name—Canth.”
The days when F’lar evaded a direct answer were now past. He smiled reassuringly. “He’s on his feet. Not much the worse for wear,” although F’nor would never lose the scars on the cheek where particles had been forced into the bone. “Canth’s wings are healing, though new membrane grow
s slowly. He looked like raw meat when they got back, you know. There wasn’t a hand-span on his body, except where F’nor had lain, that hadn’t been scoured bare. He has the entire Weyr hopping to when he itches and wants to be oiled. That’s a lot of dragon to oil.” F’lar chuckled as much to reassure Corman who looked uncomfortable hearing a list of Canth’s injuries as in recollection of the sight of Canth dominating a Weyr’s personnel.
“Then the beast will fly again.”
“We believe so. And he’ll fight Thread, too. With more reason than any of us.”
Corman regarded F’lar levelly. “I can see it’s going to take Turns and Turns to grub the continent thoroughly. This forest,” and he gestured to the plantation of hardwood saplings, “my corner on Keroon plains, the one valley in Telgar, used all the grubs it’s safe to take from Southern this Turn. I’ll be dead, long since, before the job is finished. However, when the day comes that all land is protected, what do you dragonmen plan to do?”
F’lar looked steadily back at the Keroon Holder, then grinned at Asgenar who waited expectantly. The Weyrleader began to laugh softly.
“Craft secret,” he said, watching Asgenar’s face fold into disappointment. “Cheer up, man,” he advised, giving the Lord of Lemos an affectionate clout on the shoulder. “Think about it. You ought to know by now what dragons do best.”
Mnementh was settling carefully in the small clearing in response to his summons. F’lar closed his tunic, preparatory to flying.
“Dragons go places better than anything else on Pern, good Lord Holders. Faster, farther. We’ve all the southern continent to explore when this Pass is over and men have time to relax again. And there’re other planets in our skies to visit.”
Shock and horror were mirrored in the faces of the two Lord Holders. Both had had lizards when F’nor and Canth had taken their jump between the planets; they’d known intimately what had happened.
“They can’t all be as inhospitable as the Red Star,” F’lar said.
“Dragons belong on Pern!” Corman said and honked his big nose for emphasis.
“Indeed they do, Lord Corman. Be assured that there’ll always be dragons in the Weyrs of Pern. It is, after all, their home.” F’lar raised his arm in greeting and farewell and bronze Mnementh lifted him skyward.
Dragondex
THE WEYRS IN ORDER OF FOUNDING
Fort Weyr
Benden Weyr
High Reaches Weyr
Igen Weyr
Ista Weyr
Telgar Weyr
Southern Weyr
THE MAJOR HOLDS AS BOUND TO THE WEYRS
Fort Weyr
Fort Hold (oldest hold), Lord Holder Groghe
Ruatha Hold (next oldest), Lord Holder Jaxom, Lord Warder Lytol
Southern Boll Hold, Lord Holder Sangel
Benden Weyr
Benden Hold, Lords Holder Raid and Toronas
Bitra Hold, Lords Holder Sifer and Sigomal
Lemas Hold, Lord Holder Asgenar
High Reaches Weyr
High Reaches Hold, Lord Holder Bargen
Nabol Hold, Lords Holder Fax, Meron, Deckter
Tillek Hold, Lord Holder Oterel
Igen Weyr
Keroon Hold, Lord Holder Corman
Parts of Upper Igen
Southern Telgar Hold
Ista Weyr
Ista Hold, Lord Holder Warbret
Igen Hold, Lord Holder Laudey
Nerat Hold, Lords Holder Vincet and Begamon
Telgar Weyr
Telgar Hold, Lord Holder Larad
Crom Hold, Lord Holder Nessel
Southern Weyr
Southern Hold, Holder Toric
THE PRINCIPAL LORDS (AND THEIR HOLDS)
Asgenar (Lemos)
Banger (Igen Plains)
Bargen (High Reaches)
Begamon (Nerat, 2)
Corman (Keroon)
Deckter (Nabol, 3)
Fax (Nabol, 1)
Groghe (Fort)
Jaxom (Ruatha)
Larad (Telgar)
Laudey (Igen)
Lytol (Ruatha Warder)
Meron (Nabol, 2)
Nessel (Crom)
Oterel (Tillek)
Raid (Benden)
Sangel (Boll)
Sifer (Bitra, 1)
Sigomal (Bitra, 2)
Toric (Southern)
Toronas (Benden 2)
Vincet (Nerat 1)
Warbret (1st)
CRAFTMASTERS AND MASTERCRAFTSMEN
Crafter Rank/craft Location
Andemon Masterfarmer Nerat Hold
Arnor Craftmaster, scrivenor Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Baldor Weyrharper Ista Weyr
Belesdan Mastertanner Igen Hold
Bendarek Craftmaster, woodsmith Lemos Hold
Benelek Journeyman machinesmith Smith Hall
Briaret Masterherder Keroon Hold
Brudegan Journeyman harper Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Chad Harper Telgar Weyr
Domick Craftmaster, composer Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Elgin Harper Half-Circle Sea Hold
Facenden Craftmaster, smith
Fandarel Mastersmith Smithcraft Hall, Telgar Hold
Idarolan Masterfisher Tillek Hold
Jerint Craftmaster, instruments Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Ligand Journeyman tanner Fort Hold
Menolly Journeyman harper Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Morshall Craftmaster, theory Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Nicat Masterminer Crom Hold
Oharan Weyrharper Benden Weyr
Oldive Masterhealer Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Palim Journeyman baker Smithhall
Petiron Harper Half-Circle Sea Hold
Piemur Apprentice/journeyman Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Robinton Masterharper Fort Hold
Sebell Journeyman/Masterharper Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Sharra Journeyman healer Southern Hold
Shonegar Craftmaster, voice Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Sograny Masterherder Keroon Hold
Tagetarl Journeyman harper Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Talmor Journeyman harper Harpercraft Hall, Fort Hold
Terry Craftmaster, smith Smithcraft Hall, Telgar Hold
Timareen Craftmaster, weaver Telgar Hold
Wansor Craftmaster, glassmith Smithcraft Hall, Telgar Hold
Yanis Craftmaster Half-Circle Sea Hold
Zurig Masterweaver Southern Boll Hold
OWNERS OF FIRE-LIZARDS
Owner Lizard(s)
Asgenar brown Rial
Baner —
Bargen —
Brand blue
Brekke bronze Berd
Corman —
Deelan green
Famira green
F’nor gold Grall
Groghe queen Merga
G’sel bronze
Kylara gold
Larad green
Menolly queen Beauty; bronzes Rocky, Diver, Poll; browns Lazybones, Mimic, Brownie; greens Auntie One, Auntie Two; blue Uncle
Meron bronze
Mirrim greens Reppa, Lok; brown Tolly
Nessel —
Nicat —
N’ton brown Tris
Oterel —
Piemur queen Farlir
Robinton bronze Zair
Sangel —
Sebell queen Kimi
Sharra bronze Meer, brown Talla
Sifer —
Toric queen; two bronzes
Vincet —
SOME TERMS OF INTEREST
Agenothree: a common chemical on Pern, HNO3.
Between: an area of nothingness and sensory deprivation between here and there.
Black rock: analogous to coal.
Day Sisters: a trio of stars visible from Pern.
Dawn Sisters: an alternate name for Day Sisters.
Deadglow: a numbskull, stupid. Derived from glow.
&nbs
p; Fellis: a flowering tree.
Fellis juice: a juice made from the fruit of the fellis tree; a soporific.
Fire-stone: phosphine-bearing mineral which dragons chew to produce flame.
Glow: a light-source which can be carried in a hand-basket.
High Reaches: mountains on the northern continent of Pern (see map).
Hold: a place where the common people live; originally they were cut into the mountains and hillsides.
Impression: the joining of minds of a dragon and his rider-to-be at the moment of the dragon’s hatching.
Interval: the period of time between passes, generally 200 Turns.
Klah: a hot stimulating drink made of tree bark and tasting faintly of cinnamon.
Looks to: is Impressed by.
Long Interval: a period of time, generally twice the length of an interval, in which no Thread falls and Dragonmen decrease in number. The last Long Interval is thought to herald the end of Threads.
Month: four sevendays
Numbweed: a medicinal cream which, when smeared on wounds, kills all feeling; used as an anesthetic.
Oldtimer: a member of one of the five Weyrs which Lessa brought forward four hundred Turns in time. Used as a derogative term to refer to one who has moved to Southern Weyr.
Pass: a period of time during which the Red Star is close enough to drop Thread on Pern.
Pern: third of the star Rukbat’s five planets. It has two natural satellites.
Red Star (sic): Pern’s stepsister planet. It has an erratic orbit.
Rukbat: a yellow star in the Sagittarian Sector, Rukbat has five planets and two asteroid belts.
Sevenday: the equivalent of a week on Pern.
Thread: (mycorrhizoid) spores from the Red Star, which descend on Pern and burrow into it, devouring all organic material they encounter.
Turn: a Pernese year.
Watch-wher: a nocturnal reptile distantly related to dragonkind.
Weyr: a home of dragons and their riders.
weyr: a dragon’s den.
Weyrsinger: the Harper for the dragonriders, usually himself a dragonrider.
Wherries: a type of fowl roughly resembling the domestic Turkey of Earth, but about the size of an Ostrich
Withies: water plants resembling the reeds of Earth.