"But, Aivas, since there is this sample," Fandarel said urgently, "can you not analyze its composition so that we can duplicate it? Surely we can make enough fuel to take at least one ship to the Oort Cloud."
"For what reason?"
"Why, to blow up the Oort Cloud! Destroy the Thread organism that is generated there!"
Another of Aivas's curious silences ensued, and then suddenly the Rukbat system came up on the screen, the sun dwarfing its satellites. Abruptly the picture altered, the brilliant sun diminishing to a pinpoint of light, the planets reducing out of visibility on the new scale, and the swirling nebulosity of the Oort Cloud appearing to flow across the screen, blotting out even the distant Rukbat. As in so many previous demonstrations, a red line began to describe the orbit of the Red Star, moving through the Oort Cloud and back into the system, swinging around the primary, inside Pern's conventional path.
"Aivas certainly knows how to cut us down to size," Piemur murmured.
"Oh!" Fandarel said, resigned. "It is indeed difficult to appreciate the massive scale of the Cloud and the insignificance of our tiny world."
"So what do we destroy to be rid of Thread?" F'lar asked.
"The best way to reduce the threat of Thread is to alter the orbit of the eccentric planet that brings it into Pern's system."
"And when will you tell us how we accomplish that?"
"The research and technology required will shortly be completed."
"Then finding the fuel makes no difference?" F'lessan slumped in disappointment, his usually merry expression glum.
"It may make a difference in another area, F'lessan. It is always good to have alternatives. You have all done exceedingly well." That, from Aivas, was praise indeed. "Do not succumb to apathy."
"What should I do with all these fuel sacks then?" F'lessan asked dispiritedly.
"They should be transferred to a safe storage facility in Landing.
"I shouldn't put them into anything else? Those sacks are old."
"If they have lasted 2,528 years, they will suffice for another." A chart appeared on the screen. "Now, here is the schedule for bronze and brown dragons to jump to the cargo bays of all three ships. The latest readings indicate sufficient oxygen levels to allow every dragon and rider some experience in free-fall."
"Why?" F'lar asked.
"It is essential for the success of the Plan that all the dragons of Pern learn to handle weightlessness."
The schedules were forwarded to the Weyrleaders of all eight Weyrs, and there was a good deal of jubilation from all but a few-and those were mainly riders of elderly dragons for whom even hunting was becoming difficult. The weyrlings were ecstatic, and Weyrlingmasters hard put to maintain discipline.
Each group was sent up with someone experienced in free-fall; even Jancis, Piemur, and Sharra were sent as monitors.
There were often full fairs of fire-lizards tagging along, and though that occasioned complaints, Aivas approved of their interest. A new enthusiasm swept through all the Weyrs, overcoming the mid-Pass apathy.
Three days later, fires were set among the fuel sacks, but firelizards gave the alarm so no harm was done. On hearing of the near disaster, Aivas was unperturbed and, in an offhanded tone, informed the agitated Lytol and D'ram that the fuel was nonflammable. The relief was palpable, but when Fandarel heard, he immediately wanted to know exactly how such fuel provided the desired effect. Aivas responded with a lecture on the intricacies of seven kinds of jet engines, from the simple reaction engines they had learned about, which made little sense even to Master Fandarel, to more complex multistage affairs.
That evening Master Morilton dispatched his fire-lizard with an urgent and horrified message that someone had destroyed all the lenses his Hall had ready to be installed in microscopes and telescopes, ruining months of hard and patient work. Later the next morning Master Fandarel found that the metal barrels he had been producing to house the lenses had been thrown into the forge fire and distempered overnight.
It was as well that the orientation program for dragons was going so well, or morale would have hit a new low. Then Oldive and Sharra at last were successful in penetrating the shell of the Thread egg with a black diamond cutter.
"I'm not much wiser," Sharra told Jaxom when she returned home that evening. "It's a complex organism, and it's going to take us time to analyze it. We have to work so slowly. I think that may be why Aivas taught us how to culture bacteria. Good training for this investigation."
"What did it look like-inside, I mean?"
"The most astonishing mess," she said, frowning in perplexity. Then she gave a disparaging chuckle. "I don't know what I thought it'd look like. In fact, I never thought about it at all. But the ovoid is coated in layers of dirty, rock-hard ice, with all kinds of pebbles and grains and-and junk mixed up. It's sort of whitish, yellow, black, gray... Is the yellow helium? Were you there for those lectures on liquefying gas? No, that was Piemur and Jancis.
"At any rate, there are rings that wrap round and round. You can separate the rings from the other material. There are tubes, and patches of bubbling stuff. Aivas said it was a very disorganized life-form."
Jaxom laughed in surprise. "It certainly disorganizes us!"
"Silly! He doesn't mean it that way. But we couldn't do much today because we don't have the proper tools to work in threedegree absolute temperatures." She grinned in reminiscence. "The tools we brought sort of went brittle and disintegrated in the cold."
"Metal? Turned brittle?"
"Good Smithcraft steel, too. Aivas says we have to use special glass."
"Glass, huh." Jaxom thought of all the time Aivas had spent with Master Morilton and grinned. "So that was why. But how could Aivas have known then that we'd capture Thread when he didn't even know we could?"
"I'm not sure I followed all of that, Jaxom."
"I'm not sure I did, too, lovey. I wonder who's getting the bigger surprises? Aivas, or us?"
The next morning, Sharra asked Jaxom if he would mind letting Ruth convey her to Master Oldive to confer on who else they would need to assist them in their study. Ruth was always glad to oblige Sharra, so Jaxom was free to remain behind in Ruatha to preside with Brand over a long-delayed Hold disciplinary meeting.
He was just taking his seat in the Great Hall when he caught a glimpse of Ruth departing with Sharra on his back. He bounced back to his feet in alarm.
The harness, Ruth! Which harness did Sharra use?
At the same moment that Ruth replied, She's safe, her two fire-lizards screamed so loudly that Lamoth, the elderly bronze on Ruatha's heights, bugled a warning. As Jaxom watched paralyzed by shock, he saw Ruth slowly descending, Sharra clutching him tightly about the neck; Meer and Talla hooked their talons in the shoulders of her riding jacket. The main riding strap dangled loosely between Ruth's legs.
Trembling in fear for what might have been, Jaxom forgot dignity and duty as he tore out of the Great Hall. In his wish not to worry her with an incident he had almost forgotten, he had nearly cost her her life. As Ruth delicately landed in front of him, his hands were still shaking as he helped Sharra down from her precarious perch and embraced her tightly.
I should have asked which harness she had with her, Ruth said, his tone remorseful, his hide tinged gray with anxiety. I could have told her where you hide the harness you're using now.
"It's no fault of yours, Ruth. You're all right, Sharra? You didn't hurt yourself? When I saw you hanging-" His voice broke and he buried his face in her neck, aware that she was trembling nearly as much as he.
Sharra was quite willing to be comforted, but soon enough she became aware of the audience and, with a weak, embarrassed laugh, struggled to be free. He eased his hold but did not let her go. If she had not been such a skilled rider... if Ruth hadn't been such a clever dragon...