Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 23. The Southern Project

Thanks to the exercise sessions, D’gar didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in the following morning. They’d arrived back late from Fort Weyr and he was still yawning as he met the rest of the Wing by the lake. When he returned to their weyr, he found H’rek still lying in bed, enjoying an impromptu breakfast selection from the food parcel Agarra had sent.

‘Your mum’s great,’ he said, taking a bite from one of the spiced buns. ‘I could eat these all day.’

‘I think she approved of you.’ It had been informative for H’rek to visit a different Weyr. He’d met several of D’gar’s old friends and clutchmates, while Rioth had attracted quite a lot of attention by virtue of being the biggest green dragon they’d seen and more importantly, had the chance to study up close rather than as a distant speck in the air. ‘Did you have a good gossip with the green riders?’ Doubtless they’d have grilled him while they were comparing dragons.

H’rek nodded. ‘They told me lots about you.’

D’gar groaned inwardly, although he’d expected no less. ‘Nothing too bad, I hope.’

‘Mostly about the wild parties you and S’brin used to hold in your weyr.’

‘Ah, those.’

‘Wonder why no-one does that here?’

‘They probably do, just you haven’t been here for long enough to know about it. Remember, we’d all grown up together so we were friends before we even Impressed. We just carried on with it once we got our own weyrs.’ There’d been a lot of booze and fooling around, although the individual parties tended to merge together in his memory, most probably due to the effects of all the alcohol. ‘I expect they have a green riders group here, too. S’brin used to go off to those about once a month. I wasn’t allowed, of course.’

‘Maybe I’ll ask around.’

‘Yes, you should. J’rud will probably know all about it. I know we’ve not been here that long either, but he tends to find out about things like that.’ Not for the first time, he wished H’rek could have Impressed in a proper Weyr, rather than down south. They’d missed out on a lot of the support - beyond the formal training - that most weyrlings enjoyed. ‘I’m going to get klah. Want some?’

‘Please.’

He called down the service shaft and within a couple of minutes a steaming brew arrived. He carried the mugs over. ‘What have you got planned today?’

‘We’ve been asked to attend a meeting later this morning.’

‘Another one? What’s that about?’

‘Possibly the new Wing. That’s what everyone thinks, anyway.’

‘I still don’t know how that’s even a possibility. Some of the existing Wings are well under strength. They’d be better off to merge a couple together than form a new one.’

‘Yes, but that would mean demoting some of the bronzes and they wouldn’t like it.’

‘Tough.’ D’gar picked one of the rolls from the basket and dunked it in his klah. ‘It’s how it goes. Once more dragons come along, they’ll get a Wing back again. If they deserve it, that is.’ At Fort, there were always more bronze riders than available Wingleader positions. It was better for a young rider to work their way up; have a couple of Turns as a Wingsecond before taking on a leadership role. Benden seemed to promote based purely on dragon colour rather than experience or suitability. They’d have to change, of course; Prideth’s first clutch had hatched far too many bronzes for them all to end up as Wingleaders. ‘Trouble is, Benden’s lacking in greens and blues. The percentages are all wrong.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, in most Weyrs, there are only about five percent bronzes. Any more than that and you start thinking about transfers to other Weyrs. Browns are generally around fifteen percent. We can fight a full six-hour Fall, like a bronze, but there’s more of us. Blues are generally about thirty percent and greens fifty. You need more of the smaller colours to swap out during a Fall. Plus, they’re nimbler and more manoeuvrable, so they can mop up anything that’s missed by the larger dragons.’

H’rek chewed his roll. ‘I’d never thought of it like that. Some of the comments about greens and blues I’ve heard are really disparaging.’

‘You couldn’t run a Weyr without them. Every colour has its purpose.’ Some of the Benden Weyr attitudes were strange, although he supposed they had come about through the long Turns of being the only Weyr on Pern during a time when Threadfall was only a distant memory.

‘When we were waiting for Prideth’s eggs to hatch, there was a lot of speculation about which colours everyone was going to get. Most of them wanted bronzes. No one wanted to get a green. Made me feel kind of sorry for them. Green dragons, that is. Maybe that’s why Rioth picked me.’

‘It’s possible. We were always told to keep an open mind as far as colours went. If you set your mind on only attracting one particular colour, you might end up with nothing at all.’

‘That was sort of how I reasoned it. Plus, I’m not ambitious. I know I’ll never be a Wingleader or even a Wingsecond, but that doesn’t bother me.’

‘That’s fine so long as you have someone competent in the role. But imagine being at High Reaches and ending up with F’drun as your Wingleader.’ Shaffit! He was thinking about F’drun again. He was still keeping himself apart from the rest of the Wing, probably through embarrassment as much as anything else. The whole Weyr knew about Kylara throwing him out by now.

‘I suppose there is that. You’re lucky to have R’feem.’

‘He’s not perfect, but at least he gives us a certain amount of leeway to act on our own initiative. Some Wingleaders don’t want their Wingseconds to know as much as they do, or think for themselves. R’feem likes it that way so either of us could take over if anything happened to him.’

H’rek looked surprised. ‘But you and B’lin both ride browns. You’re not allowed to lead a Wing.’

‘Maybe not according to Benden’s way of doing things, but if you’re in the middle of a Fall someone has to be able to carry on. Back in the past, if a Wingleader or his dragon was injured, one of the Wingseconds could end up in charge for a couple of sevendays, until they were fit again. Didn’t matter if they were a bronze or a brown, it was all down to ability.’ It made him wonder what might happen here, at Benden, if R’feem wasn’t able to lead them through Fall. Would the Weyrleader insist on someone else taking over the Wing; V’vil or even F’drun, just because they rode bronzes? He made another mental note to ask for clarification on that.

‘Anyway, didn’t you tell me that F’nor was more or less in charge when you were in the south.’

‘Well, yes. T’bor was Weyrleader by name, but everyone knew it was F’nor making the decisions.’

‘There you go, then. I’m pretty sure F’nor could lead a Wing if it came to it.’ Maybe that was how Benden played it; allowing hidebound rules to be bent when it suited them.

‘He probably could,’ H’rek agreed. ‘Although F’nor is kind of an exception, being F’lar’s half-brother.’

‘Yes. I’ve noticed. Still, I’ve no problem with him. He got us this weyr.’ Hopefully, F’nor would also relay his ideas to the Weyrleader. He’d not told H’rek about that, although he’d mentioned that they’d gone flying together. It was best not to reveal too much when you were skirting the bounds of protocol. Properly, he should have let R’feem bring it up in a Wingleaders meeting, except he had a feeling that most of those didn’t actually achieve much. The Benden bronze riders had too much else on their agenda to agree on anything, especially if it was suggested by someone from another Weyr.

‘So, what are you up to today?’

‘I still need to try and talk to M’rell. He’s been avoiding me every time I try to get him on his own. I’m not sure what’s up with him.’

‘I thought you two had been friends for Turns.’

‘We were. And like all friends, we occasionally fell out over stupid things, especially when we were younger. But he really seems to have taken this to heart and I don’t like it. Toth getting injured has made him even more depressed.’

‘Will he be all right? Toth, I mean.’

‘Yes, the dragon healers think so. The eye’s healing up well, but we can’t let him fly Fall until he has full vision again. So M’rell’s kicking around getting bored and drinking too much. It’s a vicious circle.’

When H’rek had left for his meeting, D’gar asked Herebeth to bespeak Toth. Ask him if I can visit.

Dropping in without warning might irritate M’rell even more.

Later on, he says. And his rider asks you to bring some of that Benden white.

Well, that was easy enough to do. Maybe having a few drinks with M’rell, just like old times, would solve the problem. A few of Agarra’s edible treats from Fort wouldn’t go amiss either. D’gar set to work updating the Wing’s Threadfall records with a lighter heart.

By the time he’d finished, his shoulders were stiff from hunching over the desk. He stood and stretched, then fished around under the bed for the skin of wine. He gave it a quick sniff - still fine - and headed off.

We’re going to Toth’s weyr. Tell him we’re on the way.

It was only a short hop; just a couple of dragons’ lengths along the side of the Bowl and two levels higher. Toth had moved forward from his couch and touched muzzles with Herebeth briefly. His left eye definitely looked inflamed and some matter had leaked down the side of his face from its corner. ‘Poor Toth,’ D’gar said as he passed by.

M’rell pulled aside the curtain. ‘It’s a lot better than it was. At least he’s opening all the lids now. And he tells me it doesn’t hurt. Come on in.’

His weyr was messy, with crumpled clothes strewn about the place, a couple of empty wineskins abandoned by the one comfortable chair and an unmade bed. M’rell offered him the chair and sat on the edge of the bed, fishing around among the sleeping furs for some cups.

D’gar felt like asking him if he should be drinking so early in the day but he knew that wouldn’t be well received. ‘You all right?’ he said instead.

‘I’ve been better.’

‘It was bad luck, Toth getting clobbered like that.’

M’rell shrugged. ‘I’m bad luck right now. Nothing in my life is going right.’ He offered one cup to D’gar, who poured them both a generous helping of the white. M’rell drank deeply. ‘Ah. Much better than that Tillek piss I’ve been drinking.’

‘Tillek wine’s always been a bit rough. Mind you, we used to knock it back in the old days, didn’t we? What was it you used to say? “After four cups you can’t tell the difference.”’ He took a sip of the Benden. Yes, it was still good.

‘Something like that.’ He took another drink. ‘It’s this place,’ he said, after a short while.

‘What is?’

‘Ever since we got here, nothing’s gone right for me.’

‘It’s not that bad.’

M’rell made a face as if he’d just swallowed some more of the unpalatable Tillek. ‘Maybe for you, it’s not. I’ve been stuck shovelling firestone into bags, Toth’s hurt and we’re not allowed out of the place. Shards, but I wish I could go back to Fort.’

‘I brought you some buns. Mum made them.’ He held out the bag. ‘A taste of home, at least.’

‘How is it at Fort, these days?’

‘Getting there. They’ve cleared it up a lot since we left. Looks almost the same as it used to.’

‘Did you see any of the old crowd?’

D’gar filled him in on the latest gossip and news, refreshing his cup a few times. M’rell drank three cups to his one. Still, he was talking and that was what mattered.

‘I appreciate this, you know,’ he said finally, when there were no more stories.

‘Don’t be daft. What are old friends for?’

‘I’m sorry about the things I said, before. I wasn’t thinking straight.’

‘It’s fine. You were drunk and upset.’

‘And now I’m getting drunk again.’ He gave a grin. ‘No, I’ve had plenty of time to think, while Toth’s been out of action. It’s not your fault things are going well for you and that they’re not for me. After what happened to you, you deserve it.’

‘Not how it works, is it? It’s not as if fate decides some poor sod should be given a chance to fall in love again. Or that someone else gets dealt a bad hand. It’s just how life works. Anything can fall apart at any time. I know that all too well.’

M’rell gazed into his cup. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t fall apart again.’

‘And that your luck changes. I’ll drink to that.’ He raised his cup. M’rell did likewise and they both drank. ’So, is Toth allowed to fly yet?’

‘Yes, they said he could. Trouble is, I’m banned from leaving the Weyr.’

‘You could still have a turn around the Bowl to stretch his wings. And if you want to take him further, I’ll find out if they can make an exception. I’m sure it would be fine if we flew together.’ The purpose of the punishment was to stop riders going out for fun; it wasn’t intended to prevent recuperating dragons from getting necessary exercise.

‘Thanks. That would be good.’ He sighed again. ‘Don’t you feel sometimes this is all so… futile.’

That was deep for M’rell. ‘Life’s never futile.’

‘No, but we should have been enjoying life after Threadfall right now. Not stuck here in a time where we don’t fit, protecting people who don’t appreciate it. It might not be so bad if we were still at Fort, but they haven’t exactly gone out of their way to make us feel like we’re a part of this Weyr.’

‘They haven’t had much time to get used to us, in all fairness. Remember, Benden was the only Weyr for four hundred Turns. Dealing with other weyrfolk is as new for them as coping with Thread. Give it a Turn or so and things will settle down.’ He thought of what B’lin had said. ‘We’ll gradually start mixing together. It’s human nature. The dragons don’t seem to have any problem.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ He didn’t really sound convinced. ‘It’s not just me feels like this, you know. Coming forward seemed like a big adventure for a lot of riders. Now they’re starting to realise we’ll be fighting Thread for the rest of our lives. We’ll see more friends die or get hurt, more dragons going between. Do you really think either of us will see the end of this Pass?’

D’gar couldn’t lie to him. ‘Probably not, if I’m honest. So all you can do is make the most of life while you can.’ He wasn’t sure how to get M’rell out of this depression, apart from being there and letting him talk it through over a skin of wine. Much as M’rell had helped him through his grief when S’brin died. ‘Look, once Toth is healed, you’ll feel better. He might even win the next mating flight.’ If Toth was feeling content, M’rell would, too.

‘Pour us another, will you?’

D’gar did. ‘You should eat something, as well. Have a bun.’ It would help soak up some of the alcohol.

M’rell took one and sniffed it. ‘Smells good.’ He took a bite and chewed slowly.

‘So what happened with you and that kitchen lass?’

‘We had a row. She’s back with her old boyfriend.’

‘Ah.’ That was often the way with Lower Cavern women. They had their pick of dragonriders.

‘And I wasn’t even in with a chance with Kylara. She’s only interested in bronze riders, like F’drun.’

‘She chucked all his stuff out of her weyr yesterday.’

‘I heard.’

‘I wouldn’t wish Kylara on you anyway. She might be beautiful, but she’s a nasty piece of work.’ He had a sudden idea. ‘I know! We could throw another party in our weyr. H’rek’s got a friend in the laundry. I bet he could ask her to bring along a few friends.’

‘Like those parties you and S’brin used to hold?’

‘Something like that.’

He looked brighter. ‘That’s not a bad idea.’

‘It’d be something to look forward to, at least.’ It wouldn’t take too much organisation. Maybe they could sort it out for the next rest day after Threadfall. ‘Right, well. I’d best get back. H’rek’s been to another meeting. And there’s supposed to be some more announcements about this southern project too.’

M’rell rolled his eyes. ‘How are they even going to find enough dragons for that?’

‘We’ve all been wondering the same. Still, it’s not a bad place and the fruit’s really tasty.’

‘I take it from that you’ve been there?’

‘H’rek took me. It’s a tropical paradise. Long, golden beaches, warm seas. The dragons loved it.’

‘We could do with a day on the beach. Maybe that’s what’s getting me down, the sharding weather here. Too grey and gloomy.’

D’gar had to agree. Fort’s weather was definitely preferable. ‘Once you’re allowed out again, I’ll show you the place. That is, if it’s not overrun by Benden dragons by then.’

‘Sounds great.’ M’rell held up the wine skin. ‘Better take the rest of this with you.’

‘No, you keep it. I’m not drinking much these days. See you at dinner, maybe?’

‘Sure.’

Out in the Bowl, a few dragons were on the wing. One of them looked like - yes, it was - Ryth. He didn’t seem to be having any difficulty flying, but then it wasn’t his wings that had been damaged. As long as F’drun made sure he landed carefully, he’d not do himself any further injury. Soon enough he’d be back with the Wing and then there’d be more problems to deal with.

Take us to the dining hall. I’ll grab some lunch down there and see what’s happening.

It was still slightly early for lunch. Appetising smells were drifting in from the kitchen, but nothing had yet been brought through. D’gar poured himself some klah and sat on the bench by the night hearth, gazing into the flames. It was here that he’d first met H’rek, he mused. It seemed like a lifetime ago, although in truth it was just a couple of sevendays. So much had happened since then.

He was drawn back from his thoughts by the sound of multiple pairs of boot heels on the stone flags. It looked as if H’rek’s clutchmates meeting had finished. They were talking loudly and animatedly as they made their way to their usual table. D’gar spotted H’rek among them. He didn’t look happy at all; in fact he looked downright upset about something. D’gar got up and went over. ‘Anything wrong?’

H’rek glanced at the others briefly. ‘Let’s go over to your table.’

They took a couple of seats at the empty table usually occupied by R’feem’s Wing. ‘So?’ D’gar asked tentatively.

‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of them,’ he said, a touch bitterly. ‘They think it’s great news.’

‘What?’

‘We’re going to be sent down south again to help re-open the Weyr.’ He stared at the scarred table top.

D’gar reached out and clasped his nearest hand. ‘Not for too long, surely? What about Threadfall? Firestone deliveries and all that?’

‘They’ve thought it through pretty well. We’re being divided into two groups. One lot stays here, the other goes down south, on rotation. A month here, a month away. I’m in the first group to go.’

D’gar wasn’t sure what he could say. There certainly wasn’t anything he could do. ‘Well, that’s not so bad,’ he said at last. ‘At least it’s not permanent.’

‘I don’t want to leave you, though.’

‘I don’t want you to leave, either. But we’re dragonriders. We have to go where the Weyr sends us.’ If he was transferred back to Fort tomorrow, there wouldn’t be much he could do about it, either. ‘It won’t be so bad. I can come down to visit on our free days. They’ll have to give you time off as well.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Judging by what you’ve told me, you didn’t have a bad time down there before. Lots of lazing around on beaches, topping up your tan. All right for some.’ He tried to keep it light, even though something cold and heavy had settled near his heart.

‘You saw what it was like. There’ll be plenty of work, clearing all that foliage. And they want to encourage folk - Holders - to move there and settle too. It’s a long term project this time, not just for a few Turns.’

‘Well, you won’t get bored, that’s for sure.’ He thought of how empty the weyr would be without H’rek. ‘The time will fly.’

H’rek still looked as if someone had pulled out a rug from under his feet. ‘This is about the worst thing that could happen.’

D’gar pushed his mug of klah across. ‘Drink this. I’ll get another one in a bit.’ He glanced across to the other table, where everyone seemed to be in high spirits. ‘So, who else are they sending?’ Fifteen or so youngsters wouldn’t be enough.

‘Well, T’bor and Kylara, obviously. And about half of T’bor’s Wing. The rest are going to be re-distributed to make up numbers.’

That made sense too. D’gar nodded, encouraging him to continue.

‘I think they’re going to send a few of Ramoth’s clutch too, as they’re familiar with the area. Plus some other spare riders. It comes to about fifty in total, they said.’

‘Not really enough for a working Weyr, but it would have to do. ‘Did they say when?’

‘Soon. In the next couple of days. Everything has to be ready by the time Prideth lays her eggs.’

Three months or so, then. ‘Well, once it’s all set up and they’ve another clutch on the sands, I expect they’ll bring you all back again.’ He tried to sound positive.

‘No one said anything about that. And ever since we heard I’ve been worrying about what will happen when Rioth’s ready to rise again? If Herebeth’s not there?’

‘Oh.’ He was only just coming to terms with the news and hadn’t even considered that aspect yet. ‘Well, how long was it between her rising the first and second time?’

H’rek thought about it. ‘Around three and a half months.’

‘So it’ll probably be about the same again.’ Although the heat and bright sunshine might trigger her early. ‘You must be more aware of the signs she’s getting close. You knew about it last time, didn’t you?’

‘Well, yes. But not exactly when, remember. She took me a bit by surprise that morning.’

‘It’s like that the first few times. Let’s work it out roughly.’ He counted on his fingers. ‘I reckon she’ll be ready towards the end of your second stint down south. I can make sure we’re there.’ It wasn’t quite so simple as that, of course. Who knew when Thread would fall on the southern continent? It probably wouldn’t synchronise with Benden’s Fall schedule. If he and Herebeth were fighting Thread when Rioth rose… Shard it! If the worst came to the worst, they’d have to time it.

H’rek looked slightly more relieved. ‘It’s still going to be tough. Not seeing you.’

‘I know. I’ll miss you, too.’ What had he just been saying earlier, to M’rell? About the way things could fall apart at any time. Well, now they had. ‘Maybe you should go over and join your clutchmates again.’

‘Why? I want to spend as much time as I can with you.’

‘Yes, but you don’t want to fall out with them. Not if you’ll be spending so much time together. Everyone needs friends.’ Or company, at least. There were probably only a few in his own Wing he’d want to socialise with, given the choice, but you had to try and keep on the right side of everyone you worked with. ‘Look, they’re bringing out the lunch stuff now. Grab yourself something to eat, then go and sit with them and pretend you’re looking forward to it as much as they seem to be. We can talk through all this later, back in our weyr.’