Энн Маккефри: Dragon’s Kin

When men first came to Rukbat, a G-type star in the Sagittarian Sector, they settled upon its third planet and named it Pern. They had set out to create an idyllic, low-tech farmers’ paradise, escaping the ravages of the late Nathi Wars. They paid little attention to Pern’s neighbors, as the entire solar system had been previously surveyed and declared safe for colonization.

Less than eight years—or “Turns” as the Pernese began calling them—after their arrival, Pern’s erratic sister planet, the Red Star, came wheeling in from the outer edges of the solar system.

And then Thread fell from the sky. The thin, silvery wisps looked like no threat at all—until they touched flesh, or foliage, or anything living, including the bare earth. Then the Thread would grow, sucking the nutrients out of anything it could, turning soil into lifeless dirt, searing through flesh to leave nothing more than charred bone. Only metal, bare rock, and water—where Thread drowned—were safe.

The first Threadfall, catching the colonists by complete surprise, was devastating. Thousands died, many more were maimed, and countless herds of imported animals were lost.

Worse, the near approach of the Red Star not only brought Thread but also increased the stress on Pern’s tectonic plates, producing earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanoes.

The surviving colonists reorganized. They abandoned the richer but seismically active Southern Continent in favor of the more stable Northern Continent. There they built a “fort” out of an east-facing cliffside in which they could “hold” all the remaining colonists.

It was not enough. With their technology failing, they could not hope to get the ground clear of Thread long enough to harvest the food they needed for their survival. They needed another solution, a Pern-based system to rid the skies of Thread.

The colonists’ biologists, led by the Eridani-trained Kitti Ping, turned to the indigenous fire lizards, small flying creatures that looked like miniature dragons. Using genetic engineering, the Pernese bred the fire-lizards into huge “dragons” that, by chewing a phosphene-bearing rock, could breathe fire on Thread, charring it right out of the sky before it could touch the ground.

These dragons, linked telepathically with their human riders, would form the mainstay of the colonists’ defense against Thread.

In what was regarded as a mistake, Kitti Ping’s daughter, Wind Blossom, created smaller, overmuscled, ugly creatures with great photosensitive eyes. Called watch-whers, they were useless fighting Thread in the daylight. But the resourceful Pernese discovered that the watch-whers were ideal for seeing in dark places, like the caves that became the Holds for the Holders and mines for miners.

As the colonists quickly outgrew their Fort Hold, the dragonriders found a new living space in an old volcanic basin. This, they called Fort Weyr.

The population continued to grow, and the colonists spread out across the Northern Continent. The dragonriders formed new Weyrs in the high mountains; the farmers and herders settled in new Holds on the plains below.

Under the leadership of the Lord Holders and the Weyrleaders, a new society developed, based on specialties and skills. Some specialties, particularly those requiring many years of training, became recognized as separate Crafts: Smith, Miner, Farmer, Fisher, Healer, and Harper. Levels of skill in a craft were recognized with the old guild appellations: Apprentice, Journeyman, and Master. Each Craft had one Master elected to preside over all Craft affairs: MasterSmith, MasterMiner, MasterFarmer, MasterFisher, MasterHealer, and MasterHarper.

Given the nature of celestial mechanics, after fifty Turns the Red Star moved too far from Pern for Thread to fall, and the threat faded away—until two hundred Turns later when the Red Star repeated its orbit, beginning a second Pass.

Again the dragons and their dragonriders rose into the sky to flame the Thread into harmless char. And again, as the Red Star receded fifty Turns later, the colonists returned to easier times and spread out to explore the abundance of Pern.

After another “Interval” of two hundred Turns, the pattern repeated and Thread fell again.

Toward the end of the Second Interval, with only sixteen Turns before the return of the Red Star, Thread, and the beginning of the Third Pass, a problem arose for the miners. The people relied on coal. Without coal, particularly the hot-burning anthracite, the Mastersmith would not be able to forge the steel that made the plows the farmers used, rimmed the wheels the traders used, and joined the leather riding gear the dragonriders used to fly against Thread. But by now, the easily acquired coal—the coal that came to the surface in huge, open seams—was nearly all mined out.

MasterMiner Britell in his CraftHall at Crom Hold realized that in order to dig deep into the mountains to get new coal, his miners would have to learn anew the old ways of tunneling and shaft mining. Working from ancient survey maps, the Master-Miner identified several promising subterranean coal seams, selected his most promising journeymen, and set them to the task of “proving” new mines. Those that succeeded would be made Masters and their Camps would become permanent Mines—with all the rank and prosperity associated with a minor Holder.

Although he admitted it to no one, MasterMiner Britell held his highest hopes for Journeyman Natalon and the group of hardworking miners he had inspired to join him.

Natalon had shown a willingness to experiment, which would be required to successfully master the new art of deep shaft mining.

He had enlisted watch-whers, hoping to use their abilities to detect tunnel-snakes and bad air—both the explosive gases and the odorless, deadly carbon monoxide which could suffocate the unwary.

From what Britell had heard, the watch-whers were something of a mystery—their abilities ignored as commonplace.

Britell planned on watching that Camp carefully, particularly keeping an eye on the work of the watch-whers and their bonded wherhandlers.

Kindan was so excited that he practically bounced as he ran up to the heights where Camp Natalon kept its drum, fire beacon, and watch.

“They’re here! They’re here!” Zenor shouted down at him. Needing no further urging, Kindan put on an extra burst of speed.

Breathless, he joined his friend on the peak where they kept the watch. Looking down at the valley, he could plainly see the large drays rolling ponderously up toward the main Camp. Leading them were the smaller, but bright and cheerfully painted domicile wagons owned by the caravanners.

From the watch-heights, not only could he see all the way across the lake to the bend where the trail turned out of sight, but he could also see the fields on the far side of the lake, which had just been cleared, ready for their first planting of crops. Closer in, he could see where the trail forked, the more heavily traveled way heading up to the depot where the mined and bagged coal was stored, the lighter way leading toward the miners’ houses on the near side of the lake.

Most of the houses were in three rows arranged in a U shape around a central square. The open, northern end of the U faced the road. It was there that smaller spice gardens had been planted. And it was in front of those, closer to the main square, that wedding preparations were in progress—for Kindan’s own sister’s wedding.