"Yes, printed books would be much easier," the Harper agreed at last. "But according to what you've shown us, the settlers had other devices, much more compact."
"That technology is too advanced to be considered at the present time and would involve processes that are presently beyond your abilities or needs."
"Well, then, I'll settle for books."
"That would be prudent of you."
"And you will remain prudent in what you ask us to recreate? "
"That is a corollary to the prime goal of this facility."
Robinton was content with that answer. But just as he had his hand on the door pull, he turned. "Would this printing press be able to print musical scores, as well?"
"Yes."
"That would be much, much easier for the entire Hall," he said. He felt so buoyant as he retraced his steps down the hall that he began to whistle.
7
Lessa roused abruptly, opening her eyes to a darkness which suggested that daylight was still hours away. F'lar lay sprawled beside her, his forehead touching her shoulder, one arm thrown across her, one leg pinning hers down. Their bed was oversized, but he invariably managed to occupy more of it than she did. In fact, there were only finger lengths between her and the edge. She must have told herself to wake up at this barbarous hour-she had always had that ability. But why? Her mind was too sleep-fogged to provide an immediate answer.
Ramoth was sound asleep, too. And Mnementh! All of Benden Weyr was asleep, including, she discovered with irritation, the dragon and rider supposedly on watch on the Rim. She would blast him as soon as she figured out why she was awake at this appallingly early hour.
Then she saw the lighted clock face on the bedside locker. Three bloody of the clock! Progress was a two-edged dagger. Having a reliable timepiece that was visible in the dark only made the darkness and this early rising harder to endure. But seeing the clock reminded her of why she had to get up early that morning. She pushed at F'lar, who was never easy to wake up unless Mnementh called him.
"F'lar, wake up! We've got to get up." Ramoth, dear, wake up! We've got to be at Landing. Aivas particularly wants us there. She prodded F'lar's shoulder more urgently and, struggling to pull her legs out from under his, reluctantly rose from the comfortable, warm bed. "We've got to get down to Landing early this morning. Early their morning."
There were moments, and this was one of them, when Lessa's enthusiasm for the Project faltered. If, however, this was the morning when Aivas would set in train the results of two Turns of hard studying and work, the early rising would be a minor sacrifice.
In the bigger chamber of the queen's weyr, she could hear Ramoth mumbling and grunting, denying the summons just as F'lar was doing.
"Well, if I have to get up, you will, too," she said, and callously hauled the sleeping-fur off her weyrmate.
"What the-" F'lar tried to grab the fur, but Lessa, with a chuckle, snatched it from his hand.
"You've got to get up."
"It's the middle of the bloody night, Lessa," he complained. "We don't have Fall for another day and a half."
"Aivas wants us there at five of the clock Landing time."
"Aivas! " He sat bolt upright, wide-eyed, pushing his tumbled hair back from his face.
Lessa snorted at F'lar's response to that name.
"My shirt!" he cried, shivering convulsively in the predawn cold. "Heartless woman!"
She snatched shirt and pants up from the chair and tossed them to him. "I am not at all heartless!"
Then she opened a glowbasket to find fresh clothes for herself. F'lar made a quick stop in the bathing room while she poured klah for them both. With her cup in her hand, she passed F'lar on her way in; then she washed quickly and replaited the ends of her braids.
"Watch rider's asleep," she told him when she got back into the weyr, where he was stamping into his boots and shrugging on his riding jacket.
"I know. I've sent Mnementh to scare the living lights out of both of them." He cocked his head then as they both heard a reverberating roar and a startled squeal. "That'll teach them."
"One day Mnementh's going to startle one or both of a watchpair off the Rim!" she replied.
He grinned at her. "Haven't yet! Here!" And he held out her flying jacket and cap. As she stuck her arms in the sleeves, he bent and kissed the back of her neck. F'lar was often amorous when he first woke.
"That makes me shiver! " But she didn't pull away, so he kissed her again and hugged her affectionately. Leaving one arm across her shoulders, he guided her out to Ramoth's weyr.
The gold queen's tail was still in the weyr; the rest of her was out on the ledge. And, as F'lar and Lessa joined her there, Mnementh lowered his head from the level above the queen's weyr, his eyes gleaming brilliant blue-green in the darkness.
Who did you scare awake on watch up there, Mnementh?
Lessa asked.
B'fol and green Gereth. They won't, sleep on watch again.
The bronze dragon's tone was particularly severe, an attitude with which Lessa had no quarrel, for both B'fol and Gereth were well enough on in Turns not to be delinquent.
"Next Fall, B'fol and Gereth will handle firestone sacks," F'lar remarked, having followed the exchange. This was no time for Benden Weyr to get slipshod. "Have we time for porridge? " he asked hopefully.
Considering that days at Landing were apt to be spent in nonstop work, Lessa thought a good breakfast was only prudent, even if they were already behind the appointed hour. "We'll make time," she said, a ripple of mischievousness in her voice.
"Now, now, Lessa," he began in a tone of mock reproof, "if we don't let anyone else time it..."
"Rank has some privileges, and I'll think the better for a decent breakfast in my guts," she said. "So we'll make a little time. Especially since you're so hard to wake up." She laughed softly when he sputtered a protest. "If you please, Ramoth!" And the queen crouched to allow her rider to mount. "You won't mind giving F'lar a lift, will you, dearest? I don't want him falling off that upper ledge, trying to mount Mnementh in the dark."
Ramoth turned her head toward F'lar and blinked. Of course.
Mnementh waited until both riders were settled on the queen's neck before pushing off from the upper ledge and gliding down beside them to the floor of the Bowl. As soon as they had landed, the night lights in the Lower Caverns were visible, as well as the banked fire on the small hearth where a big kettle of porridge was simmering. The huge klah pot was pulled slightly to one side so that the contents would not become too strong to be palatable.
As Lessa filled two bowls with the steaming cereal, she was glad that they had the place to themselves. The bakers must just have left-for the big table near the main hearth was full of cloth-covered breadpans. F'lar brought over two cups of klah, spooning an almost indecent amount of sweetener into his, and then sprinkling as much again over the porridge Lessa set in front of him.
"It's a miracle you don't gain weight with all that sweetener," she began.
"Or lose my teeth," he said, adding the second half of that long-standing complaint. He gave her his widest grin and tapped his teeth with his spoon. "But I don't and I haven't." He dug into his breakfast.
Lessa sipped at her klah first, wanting to clear the last of sleep from her wits.
"Do you suppose that Aivas is going to start the Project this morning?"
F'lar shrugged as the question caught him with a hot mouthful. He swallowed. "I can't think why else he called a meeting of such a group at such an hour. According to the original schedule he gave us, we should be ready to start. Despite what some critics imply," he added with a grimace that had nothing to do with the piping-hot porridge on his spoon, "he keeps his promises."