Dragonsblood (41 page)

heads in wonder.”

“An old lady’s folly,” Wind Blossom said. She jerked her hand at the

Benden Weyrleader. “M’hall said I needed a rest.” She gestured around at

the fog. “This will be restful, I think.”

“You are welcome to whatever we can provide you, Wind Blossom,” Malon

told her. He shook his head, adding, “Although I don’t quite know what you’ll

want with a bell, a coil of rope, and some planking.”

“It is a science experiment,” Wind Blossom told him. M’hall shot her a

penetrating look but she waved it aside. “I wish to see how far sound will

travel over foggy water.”

A clattering sound behind them caused Wind Blossom to turn around. A

watch-wher approached eagerly, only to be hauled short with a hiss of pain

by a stout chain attached to its neck with a collar.

“What is this?” Wind Blossom asked, her voice going dangerously soft.

“One of yours, I think,” Malon said, waving a hand affectionately toward the

watch-wher.

Wind Blossom turned to Tillek’s leader and looked up at him with a

dangerous intensity. “Why is it chained?”

“Oh, Tilsk here was always getting into mischief,” Malon said dismissively.

“It’s for its own good.”

“Watch-whers are ‘he’ or ‘she,’ ” Wind Blossom corrected sternly. “This one

is a green; that makes her a ‘she.’ ”

“I’m sorry,
she
was getting into trouble,” Malon said. “I apologize if chaining

her up distresses you.”

“More than distress,” Wind Blossom said. She glanced up at M’hall. “This is

bad.”

“The Pass is over,” M’hall protested. “There is no danger. And, you must

admit, an uncontrolled watch-wher can be a menace.”

“A watch-wher needs training, just like a fire-lizard,” Wind Blossom

corrected. “Or a dragon,” she said with added emphasis, glaring up at

M’hall until the Weyrleader nodded in agreement.

“What if we start chaining up dragons?” she asked, nodding in satisfaction

when both Malon and M’hall recoiled in horror. She looked back up at

Malon. “It is the same thing, to chain a watch-wher.”

She glanced again at M’hall. “And when Thread comes again, what if the

watch-whers are still chained? You know their purpose.”

“Lady Wind Blossom, I meant no disrespect,” Malon told her emphatically.

“I know you are attached to your creation—”

“It’s not that, Malon,” M’hall interrupted. “Wind Blossom is right. The

watch-whers serve a greater purpose.”

“They fly at night,” Wind Blossom explained, “when the dragons sleep.”

A look of dawning comprehension flowed across Malon’s face. “That was

why we chained her in the first place,” he said with a groan. “She went

missing one night!”

Wind Blossom nodded. “Eating Thread,” she said, her eyes showing

delight. “Good.”

“If I had known . . . I’ll release her at once!”

“No,” Wind Blossom raised a hand. “Pick someone to work with her, like a

fire-lizard. Train her, earn her respect,
then
let her free.”

“They are like fire-lizards then?” Malon asked, brows raised. “If so, she’s

too old to bond . . .”

“Apparently they are not quite like fire-lizards
or
dragons,” M’hall told him.

“More independent,” Wind Blossom agreed. “Able to take care of

themselves, if they must.”

“Fortunately, Thread usually freezes at night so their skills are rarely

needed,” M’hall added. Wind Blossom nodded approvingly.

“I see,” Malon said. “So I should probably keep this news to myself and not

alarm the Hold.”

“That has been our consensus so far, yes,” Wind Blossom agreed.

M’hall raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Wind Blossom gave him a

nearly imperceptible shake of her head and he changed the topic.

“I’m glad we could clear that up,” he said. Then he shivered theatrically.

“Did you say something about a stew?”

Malon was only too happy to follow the change of topic and lead them into

his Hold.

Over the next several days the weather cleared and the sun came out—and

then for the rest of the week the weather turned foul. Either way, it did not

alter Wind Blossom’s routine. She was up with first light and out at her

shelter.

She spent her evenings with Malon and the other fishermen, happily relating

what little she knew of marine biology and gladly hearing what they had

been taught through the cruel lessons of the sea. The oldsters were

content to gather around her; many remembered her from the Fever Year,

and some even from the Crossing.

Malon soon guessed Wind Blossom’s reason for coming to Tillek Hold.

“I don’t think they’ll come,” he told her after she returned to the Hold on the

third evening. He sounded wistful. “I’ve seen them in the warmer waters, but

I think it’s too cold up here for them.”

Wind Blossom smiled at him. “Could you give me a supply of fish? Or fish

leavings?”

Malon shook his head admiringly. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I have had years to learn patience,” she replied.

“You would do better in a boat, you know,” Malon said after a moment’s

reflection.

“I am not a sailor,” Wind Blossom confessed.

“I could get someone to take you,” he offered.

Wind Blossom shook her head. “Thank you, but that would be . . . unwise.”

“I see you have a secret you are reluctant to share,” Malon observed.

Wind Blossom shook her head. “I have a secret I am sworn to keep,” she

corrected.

Malon nodded slowly, taking no offense. “Well, do please let me know if

you think of anything else I can do to help.”

“And the fish?” Wind Blossom reminded him.

“Of course.”

The eerie light of glows in one of the classrooms caught Emorra’s attention

as she made her way to the kitchen late one night. She paused outside the

room. She heard voices. Cautiously she opened the door and peered

inside.

Inside, Tieran was standing at the blackboard, which was covered in various

block diagrams and chemical formulas. She recognized the one he was

working on as a decision tree. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“What are
you
doing?” he responded.

She raised the tray she was carrying. “I’m returning my dishes.”

“I’m working late,” he told her.

She walked into the room and put her tray down on one of the student

desks. She came up to the blackboard and examined Tieran’s work.

“Is this a diagnostic flowchart?” she asked.

Tieran nodded.

“For what purpose?”

“I’m trying to figure out what could have made the fire-lizards sick,” he told

her.

She looked at his chart. “I see you’ve got bacterial and viral, but why the

Terran and Pernese? And why not dietary?”

“If it’s a disease caused by poor nutrition, then it’s self-limiting, isn’t it?”

Tieran said.

“It is if the missing nutrient can be found,” she agreed. “Like vitamin C to

prevent scurvy.” She narrowed her eyes as she followed the flowchart to

the next branch. “What’s this about a microscope?”

“If it’s bacterial, you could see the bacteria with a microscope,” Tieran

explained. “If you can’t, then it’s viral.”

“But that’s ignoring the fact that secondary infections could be either

bacterial
or
viral,” Emorra observed.

“I’m not trying to make this harder,” Tieran protested, “I’m trying to make it

easier.”

Emorra’s lips quirked upward. “If it was easy,” she began, and Tieran joined

her in the finish, “then anyone could do it.”

They exchanged grins. Then Emorra shook her head. “I don’t know why

you’re bothering,” she told him. “I mean it’s obvious that Mother’s given

up.”

Tieran cocked his head at her.

“She’s on a vacation, isn’t she?” Emorra asked.

“Is she?” Tieran asked.

Emorra dismissed the issue with a shake of her head. She looked back at

the flowchart, intending to leave Tieran to his own devices, when a sudden

thought struck her.

“You know,” she said musingly, “you’re going about this all wrong.”

“I’ll take any help I can get,” Tieran responded feelingly.

“The question isn’t what initial vector started the illness,” she said slowly,

testing out the idea as she said it, “but what was the cause of death.”

“It seemed to be some sort of extreme upper respiratory infection or

complications therefrom,” Tieran said.

Emorra nodded in agreement. “So, what would be required to survive a

severe upper respiratory infection?”

“Lots of antibiotics,” Tieran replied instantly.

“That’s a short-term solution,” Emorra observed.

“Well . . .” Tieran paused, pursing his lips in thought. “The long-term

solution is the antibodies built by the immune system.” He frowned. “But,

obviously, the immune system didn’t recognize the infection quickly enough

and was overwhelmed.”

“So we need to keep the immune system from being overwhelmed,”

Emorra said.

“How?” Tieran asked miserably.

“The sea giveth, and the sea taketh away,” Wind Blossom thought wryly.

She bundled up her collection from the shore, checking each item carefully

as she placed it in her carisak.

In the distance, out on the ocean, she could just make out the group of fins

heading away from her. In her mind, she ticked off each of the missing

items from her inventory. Some things “lost” in the Crossing were now

returned.

Her gait as she negotiated her way back to the Hold was steady,

purposeful.

When M’hall came to collect her, he insisted upon helping her with her

carisak. After she was firmly mounted on Brianth’s neck, he handed the

carisak to her before hoisting himself up.

“Your sak is heavier, I noticed,” he commented as he found his seat. “The

Eridani like doing things in threes, don’t they?”

Wind Blossom chuckled. “Yes, they do.”

“I believe that Admiral Benden would have praised their dedication to

backup systems and redundancy.”

“If he had known,” Wind Blossom told him, “I’m sure he would have

agreed.”

At M’hall’s command, Brianth leapt lightly into the air and, with strong beats,

soared high up into the sky before going
between.

Bursting once more into existence over the College, M’hall had Brianth

commence a lazy spiral toward the landing site.

“So, I take it your vacation was fruitful?” he inquired pleasantly.

“I have found some answers to some of my questions,” Wind Blossom

agreed. “I must go back there sometime.”

M’hall raised his eyebrows in surprise. “To get more buried treasure?”

“No,” Wind Blossom responded, shaking her head. “To return it.”

They were met by Emorra and Tieran.

“Hello, Mother,” Emorra said to her. “Did you have a good vacation?”

“Yes, thank you,” Wind Blossom replied, wincing inwardly at the formality of

her own tone. Emorra’s face took on a strained look. Trying to smooth

things over, Wind Blossom added, “But I missed you.”

“We’ve been busy while you were away,” Tieran told her. Emorra glowered

at him.

“I shall be delighted to hear about it,” Wind Blossom replied.

“What are all these things?” Tieran exclaimed in awe when Wind Blossom

met him and Emorra in one of the laboratories the next day.

Janir poked his head in curiously. His eyes widened in amazement and he

crowded up behind Tieran to get a better view.

“Where did you get these?” he asked excitedly as he started visually

cataloging the items. “Are the power packs full?”

He reached forward, longing to touch one of the precious instruments, only

to have Wind Blossom bat his hand away. He withdrew with all the alacrity of

her onetime student and exchanged rueful looks with Tieran.

“She’s fast,” Tieran muttered to Pern’s head physician.

“She always was,” Janir returned. He looked down at the elderly woman.

“Wind Blossom, these are invaluable to us. Where did you get them?”

Wind Blossom shook her head. “I cannot say.” She looked up, shaking a

finger at him. “And don’t you think to borrow them, Janir.” As Janir raised his

arms in protest, she added, “Remember what happened the last time.”

Janir opened his mouth to object, but Wind Blossom just shook her finger

at him again, and with a sigh, he dropped his head resignedly.

Wind Blossom pointed to one of the instruments. “This is a code viewer

and sequencer.”

“What’s it tuned to?” Janir asked.

“Pernese genetic code,” Wind Blossom told him. “It was one of the first

units we adjusted.”

“What’s it do?” Tieran asked.

“It can read genetic material and sequence it,” Wind Blossom explained. “It

can also produce new genetic sequences or alter existing ones.”

“But reading genetic material isn’t good enough, is it?” Emorra asked. “I

mean, you have to know what you’re reading, what it means.”

“You need a map,” Janir added in agreement.

Wind Blossom pointed to another, smaller device. “This is a mapper,” she

said. “When we built the dragons, we had a fully integrated unit, which in

turn was integrated with AIVAS and the
Yokohama.
”

Tieran looked confused.

“AIVAS—Artificial Intelligence Visual Audio System,” Emorra translated. “A

smart computer.”

“Much more,” Janir corrected. “And the
Yokohama
was the largest of the