Most of the attendees simply gawked, trying to find the source of the disembodied voice. The Ista glass-smith took a hesitant step forward, swallowed hard, and spoke.
"Master Aivas, Master Oldive asked me to construct the lens of a microscope for him." The words came out in a rush.
"Yes, such an instrument is of vital importance to the Healer's Hall."
"I looked up our Records, Master Aivas." He pulled from his tunic some moldering sheets, stained, spotted, and full of holes. "But, as you see..." He held them out toward the screen.
"Place them over the lit panel on the worktop, Masterglasssmith."
Looking about for reassurance, the Istan hesitated, until the Harper shooed him forward. The others stared at the glass-smith for his audacity. Part of one page crumbled off even as he placed it over the lighted panel. His journeyman rushed forward and, with the air of a man greatly daring, shoved the missing corner up against the broken end.
Instantly the screen lit up with an image of the much damaged drawing. Magically an unseen point connected up the missing lines and while the watchers gasped in wonder, the diagram became entire. From the printer slot emerged a sheet, which the dazzled journeyman took at Aivas's suggestion.
"Look! Look! Finer than the best draftsman we have could render it!" the excited man exclaimed.
"Next page, please," Aivas said, and the glass-smith, with some fumbling, managed to comply.
Very shortly the missing notes and explanations had been restored, and everyone in the room had had a chance to see the reconstructed sheets.
"Have you any queries regarding the manufacture of barrel, focusing devices, or lenses?" Aivas asked politely.
There were one or two questions from the journeyman; his master was too dazed to be coherent.
"If some should arise during manufacture-" Aivas finished.
"During what?" the journeyman was startled into asking by the unfamiliar word.
"During the making, either send your question to Master Robinton or return for additional explanations or further demonstration."
It was easy then for Robinton to move the group out of the room and speed them on their way down the hall.
"That took ten minutes," Aivas said in a low tone. "A useful disposition of time."
"Have you been advised to appoint me your aide?" the Masterharper asked in an amused tone.
"Your impartiality is legend, Master Robinton, and your scrupulous sense of fair play has just been demonstrated. Master Esselin's definition of priority is noticeably skewed toward rank. The glass-smith's need of stored information was indeed a priority that ought to have been immediately scheduled when he arrived early this morning. Master Esselin ignored him."
"He did?" Robinton was annoyed.
"If you will see to it that he does not exceed his very limited authority, considerable future ill-feeling will be avoided."
"I will see to that immediately, Aivas."
"If you should be unwilling to act in this capacity, perhaps D'ram, the bronze dragonrider, would assist. He, also, is held in the highest regard by peer group, Hall, and Hold. Is it true that he came forward in time four hundred Turns to fight Thread? That he has already spent a good portion of his life in that onerous task?"
"That is correct, Aivas."
"This generation, and his, are amazing, Master Robinton." Though the words were spoken levelly, the tone of admiration was unmistakable, and Robinton squared his shoulders proudly.
"We are of one mind in that." Then, brusquely, Robinton added, "As your aide, Master Aivas, I'll just set Master Esselin straight on the matter of assigning priorities without consultation. You may be sure he will obey you as promptly as he does myself or the Weyrleaders."
Back in the hall, Robinton cut short all of Master Esselin's tedious explanations and apologies. He found D'ram in the room where Piemur, Jancis, Jaxom, and Benelek were clattering away at their lessons on the small screens. They were each working on different projects, he could see; he recognized that Jancis was somehow replicating the diagram that Aivas had shown the miners.
"Come on, Master Robinton," Piemur said, looking up from his screen. "I fixed a station for you to experiment with."
Robinton held up his hands and backed away. "No, no, I've appointed myself aide to Master Aivas for the afternoon. You cannot believe how stupid Esselin is."
"Ha! Yes, I can!" Piemur said emphatically.
"He's as thick as two short planks," Benelek grumbled. "And he doesn't like any of us coming and going as we need to."
"I don't have any trouble," Jancis said, but her eyes danced with mischief. "All I have to do is give him a cup of klah or something to eat from the tray when I bring it in." '
"And that's another score I'm going to settle with of Master fuddy-duddy Esselin," Piemur said heatedly. "You are not a kitchen drudge. Does he never see the Master tab on your collar? Doesn't he know you're Fandarel's granddaughter and top of your own Craft?"
"Oh, I think he will," Jaxom remarked without looking up from his board, his fingers flying across it. "I caught his paternal act this morning, and I reminded him that the proper form of address for Jancis is Mastersmith. You know, I don't think he had noticed the collar tabs."
"That's no excuse," Piemur retorted, likely to fume until he himself had settled the score with the old man.
"Perhaps Master Esselin should go back to his archives," D'ram said. "That's what he's supposed to be doing."
"And about all he's good for," Piemur muttered.
"However, since someone must take over his current responsibility, I think I shall appoint myself in his place."
"A marvelous notion, D'ram," Robinton said while the others let out a cheer. "Actually, Aivas had already recommended you in that capacity. He's heard that you are a well-respected and scrupulously honest character. He doesn't know you as well as I do, of course." When D'ram glanced apprehensively at him, Robinton broke into a teasing grin. "In fact, I think we should inveigle Lytol up here, too. Or would three honest men be too much for the job?"
"There can never be enough honest men," Jaxom said firmly, looking up from his screen. "I think the challenge would be good for Lytol." His expression reflected a deep concern for his aging guardian. "The pair of you already look the better for some proper use of your long experience. And there ought to be someone in charge who's got the sense he was born with."
"I second that," a voice said from the doorway. In walked Mastersmith Hamian. "I had to elbow the old fool aside to get back in here. I see what Sharra meant when she said you were all wrapped up in this, Jaxom," he added, tolerantly grinning at his sister's mate before he nodded courteously to the others in the room. "I didn't want to cause undue consternation among my peers earlier, Master Robinton, but would Master Aivas be able to tell any of us-me, because I'm dead keen to know-how the ancestors made their durable plastics?"
"Hurrah!" Piemur and Jancis cheered together. And Piemur jumped from his stool and thumped Hamian's back.
The big smith from Southern Hold was not as tall or as massive as Master Fandarel, but he was solid enough to absorb Piemur's hearty pounding without giving an inch. He grinned at his friend, his large and even teeth white in his tanned face. "Glad someone approves. Do you?" He looked directly at the Harper.
Robinton looked inquiringly at Dram. "And thus we make the first test of our authority?"