The Red Orb of Pern
M.C. Gordon
Disclaimer is attached to the beginning of this series. This is fan fiction written for a friend who enjoys Anne McCaffrey's Pern as much as I do. Commments welcome to quasito_cat@hotmail.com or quasito_cat@yahoo.com
Chapter 21
Adelmisa and L'noth were as puzzled by Hanmath's remark as Mitchell and Sonath. The great golden queen had simply responded, "because I know," when the Weyrwoman queried how the boy was going to Impress.
The sands of the Hatching Ground grew ever hotter and only the heavy boots worn by all of the weyrfolk saved their feet from being burned. Hanmath hovered over her clutch of thirty eggs as the time drew near for them to hatch. There were only two golden eggs in the clutch, down from Hanmath's normal four.
A dozen girls, hand selected by those dragons and their riders who were gifted in seeking out candidates for the queen eggs, had been invited from holds and crafthalls across Pern. Each girl had to be willing to give up home and family forever for life in the weyrs during a Pass commanded total dedication.
Rearing and training the fighting dragons was time consuming. New dragonets ate copiously, slept a great deal, and grew at an alarming rate. As they grew, their hides split and flaked. Constant bathing and oiling were required because an untended split when young could create problems for adult dragons. Special brushes had been developed over the passing turns to scratch the tender hides of the growing dragonets. Even in their sleep, they could be seen twitching from an itch here or there.
Candidates for the remaining twenty-eight eggs had been drawn from weyrbred boys. A boy could stand as a candidate from age twelve to twenty, and often a boy who didn't Impress the first or second time would Impress later. Those rejected by the dragons after their twentieth year usually left the weyr for a hold or crafthall. Adelmisa and L'noth preferred boys who were at least fourteen or fifteen turns, feeling they were more capable of the immense responsibilities of dragon riders.
Chapter 22
Andren had been asked to stand but had refused. "My heart belongs to my craft," he politely told the Weyrleaders. "I can do more for Pern if I can help injured dragons on the ground than if I ride one dragon."
Lydel, still disappointed that his best friend wasn't a candidate, secretly hoped that no dragon would choose him this time. The twins, however, speculated endlessly as time grew closer for the hatching.
"You have to Impress a bronze," Tomin declared one evening when they were preparing to go to sleep.
"Why a bronze in particular?" Mitchell asked.
"Because they're the biggest, fastest, and strongest -- except for the queens," the boy declared.
"The dragon does the choosing," Lydel remarked. "Green dragons may be the smallest but they're the most agile."
"I'd want a blue," Davis chimed in. "They're almost as agile as the greens and nearly as strong as a brown."
"What about you?" Davis asked Andren. "What kind of dragon would you want?"
Andren thought a minute before replying. "Since I'm not going to Impress, I think I'll make up my own kind of dragon. I'd want a huge purple one with yellow dots. He'd be so big and fast that we'd fly right up to the Red Star and char it to pieces."
The twins fell into a fit of giggles at the thought of Andren's outrageously colored dragon and began to make up their own versions of impossible colors.
"It's bedtime," Mitchell finally told them. "Remember you're going back to Harper class tomorrow, Tomin."
"I can't walk with my legs broken," the boy began to whine.
"You won't have to," Mitchell responded. "N'tan and S'vern are going to take turns carrying you back and forth.
The boy was about to protest when Lydel stopped him with, "Tomin, if you really want to be a bronze rider one day then you must study hard and learn as much as you can."
Tomin resigned himself to his fate and accepted good night kisses on his forehead. He reached out for his brother's hand and the two fell asleep with visions of Andren's great purple and yellow dragon dancing through their dreams.
Chapter 22
The five boys were rudely awakened early the next morning by M'sel and Lurah, who carried a tray with five mugs of hot herdbeast milk flavored with klah.
"Drink your klah and dress quickly," she said.
"I'm sleepy," Davis murmured as he rubbed his eyes.
"The dragons are humming," M'sel told them. "It's time. Lydel won't want to be late, and the rest of you are to watch."
Tomin was suddenly wide-awake. "Me and Davis get to watch?" he asked, for they had never been allowed to attend a hatching before.
"Of course you and Davis get to watch," Lurah said as she handed out the steaming mugs.
Mitchell, Lydel, and Andren accepted their drinks, brushing their hair back from their faces and stretching.
"Hey! Naked here!" Tomin cried out as Lurah removed his sleeping tunic. Using his good arm, he snatched his tunic back and held it over himself.
"I only want to help you change," Lurah said, slightly amused by the boy's reaction.
"Yeah? Well, you're a ... a girl!" he exclaimed in disgust as only a boy of six turns can.
Mitchell barely had time to move out of the line of fire as Andren spewed hot klah in his direction. "You've got to admit that he has a point," Mitchell managed to say just before laughter overtook him.
"Of course I'm a girl," Lurah said, making a great show of gathering her dignity about her. "I'll leave you boys the task of getting this rascal dressed," she said as she left the cubicle.
Chapter 23
Lydel and other chosen candidates stood on the Hatching Ground as the dragon eggs began to rock back and forth. They were all dressed in fine new tunics delivered only the day before by Masterweaver Faracon.
The girls had divided into groups of six and stood near the golden queen eggs. The boys scattered themselves at random.
One of the eggs suddenly stopped rocking and cracked open as a green fledgling emerged. It flopped across the hot sand, crowing softly, until it stumbled against the leg of a boy Lydel knew from Harper class, Ranel. Ranel leaned down to scratch the young dragon's eye ridge and his face suddenly seemed transformed. Impression had taken place.
"Timorth," R'nel announced as the dragonet gave her name.
One by one the eggs began to hatch and the fledglings flopped and wobbled until they came across the right boy and Impressed. One of the queen eggs hatched and Mirabel, from a weaver crafthold, became the next queen rider.
Although he'd seen several Hatchings, Lydel was still overcome with emotion as he watched Impression taking place all around him. He was torn between not wanting to Impress if Mitchell didn't, and desperately wanting one of the fledglings to want him. He was watching Mirabel lead her queen away when he was bumped from behind and nearly fell.
"Hey, watch it," he said before he turned around. A small crowing sound caught his attention and he turned to see a bronze fledgling at his feet. "No, it's all right, I'm not hurt," he crooned to the small dragon as their eyes met and Impression occurred. "His name is Ammorth!" he shouted to M'sel and Lurah who were sitting with his friends.
"I knew he'd get a bronze," Tomin screamed in excitement as Davis bounced up and down.
Mitchell waved to L'del, filled with joy for him. Yet he was unable to hide his tears of disappointment for himself. He was about to leave the Hatching Ground when a great commotion began. The second golden egg had hatched. Some of the girls began to scream as the fledgling pushed them away, knocked them down, and walked across them. The scrawny neck lifted a golden head high as the young dragon desperately sought for one special person.
Mitchell stared in disbelief as the golden fledgling suddenly began to lurch toward him. "I can't," he said to L'noth, who was standing next to him. "Boys can't Impress queens, only girls can."
L'noth was as surprised as Mitchell, for the small dragon seemed intent on reaching the boy. He looked across at Adelmisa, unsure of what to do. The Weyrwoman smiled back at him and nodded her head.
"The dragon always chooses, Mitchell," L'noth finally said and pushed the boy forward.
Mitchell took a few steps and stopped. The crowd of onlookers had grown silent for never before had a boy Impressed a golden queen. The young dragon suddenly let out a screech of pain as a still wet wing got in the way of a clawed foot. That cry set Mitchell in motion and he hurried across the hot sand.
"Look, you only stepped on your wing," he said. "You have to be careful when you walk until your wings are dry." As he spoke, the dragonet looked at him with rainbow hued eyes and two hearts and minds locked together. "I'm not supposed to Impress a queen, you know," Mitchell crooned to the dragon. "I'm a boy."
"So am I. And I'm very, very hungry," Raganth replied.