Dragonrider, be forewarned!
See your duty clear.
Hold no lover, seek no friend,
But dragon, Pern and Weyr.
9th Pass -- Year 26 - January
(Healer Hall - Fort Hold, January 16th)
Masterharper Sebell let his hand go limp. The fingers holding his directed them smoothly. A thin coat of ink on the first digit was deftly transferred to the waiting card. As soon as the impression was complete, Darian released his hand, offering a cloth moistened with alcohol. Sebell accepted the towel, mimicking the motions just completed by his wife.
They were gathered in a chamber at the Healer Craft Hall. The Cygnan bent over two pieces of stiff paper. Nearby, Wansor hovered protectively over the viewing device he had built to the Masterhealer's specifications. Masterhealer Oldive, Mastersmith Fandarel and the Fort and Istan Weyrleaders completed the group. All watched with interest as the avion continued to work.
Oldive had monopolized the early proceedings, observing enthusiastically as Wansor explained the operation of the device and the surgical master described potential applications. The three had engaged in a detailed conversation which left all but Fandarel completely bewildered. Fortunately, it had been brief. The Cygnan retrieved a small pouch which contained the mysterious supplies he'd collected months ago. The appearance of the unusual materials kept everyone intrigued.
Darian glanced at the Masterharper. He pointed at the wineglass he'd requested. "Hand me that glass, would you?" Sebell dutifully retrieved the goblet. Everyone watched the curious method with which the avion accepted it, holding it at the very edges.
Easing the container to the bench, Darian reached for the bottle of powder from the Minecraft Hall and the fine-bristled brush the Harper Hall had provided. He dipped the tip in the chalk and carefully painted the body of the glass. As he did so, swirling patterns became visible. The Cygnan grunted his satisfaction. The brush slipped to the table, and he picked up a roll of transparent film. This creation had been wheedled from the woodcraft master, who was sworn to secrecy until the project was complete. A piece of the film was removed and stretched across the glass. He then lifted it, transferring it to yet another piece of card. There, the swirling image was perfectly reproduced.
"Okay, Masterharper, take a look at this." Darian inserted the powder image under one of the device's lenses, the ink image under the second. When he moved away, Sebell lowered his eye to the viewer.
The harper turned the knob on the side of the device as Wansor had shown, bringing the twin views into sharp focus. As the fuzziness cleared, he pulled back. The fascinated observers saw his head turn toward Darian, eyes expressing surprise and confusion. Sebell returned to the viewer. After a long moment, he stood upright. "They're identical."
The Cygnan nodded. Darian removed the second card from the viewer, replacing it with the card Menolly had imprinted. He invited the Masterharper to look again. Sebell complied quickly. He stared into the device then eased back. "Not even close".
"You got it. But, if Menolly had touched the glass, these would match."
Expressions ranging from surprised to cynical greeted his statement. The Cygnan continued his explanation. "Each of you, look at your fingertips. Do you see those tiny lines, ridges and swirls? You all have them, and every last one is unique. Not only does no other person have the same pattern as yours, but each of your fingers also has its own."
Darian noted with satisfaction how each person stared at their fingers. Sebell reached for Menolly's hand, getting a sly giggle from the woman as he held her fingers next to his own. The burly Mastersmith was utterly fascinated.
"Your skin excretes a light oil which it uses for protection, lubrication and regeneration. Anytime you touch anything, you leave a light film of that oil behind. The only way to remove it is to intentionally clean it off. That oil is deposited in the exact same pattern as the ridges on your fingers."
"That's what these cards are for?" Menolly queried.
"Exactly. With this technique, I can positively identify any human on Pern who has touched anything. The only invalidating factor would be some type of injury which destroys the tissue. About the only thing that will do that is a serious burn."
A low, rolling chuckle came from the side of the group. Fandarel gazed at the Cygnan approvingly. "Most efficient, masterhealer, including your underhanded methods of gathering these unusual tools. A most impressive demonstration."
Darian grinned back at the smith. He'd hoped Fandarel wouldn't be offended when his duplicity was discovered. More than any other, he needed the support of the Smithcraft Hall. "I apologize for being deceitful, Mastersmith, but I think you can understand the difficulty I'd have had in describing this procedure?"
"Indeed, indeed," the smith chuckled. "No apologies. Most impressive. Most impressive."
"It wouldn't take long to train people to use this method. With a few volunteers from Weyrs, halls or holds, we can create an investigations bureau that could handle most of the crimes you deal with on Pern." The avion paused, looking around the room, reading faces. The Mastersmith's easy dismissal of the trick was not shared by all those present.
"That's something we'll have to talk about," N'ton answered. "I like the idea, but the practice could be harder that you think."
Darian nodded. "Fair enough," he conceded. "That's all I can ask for." He was distracted by the start of a conversation behind him. Wansor and Fandarel were discussing possible refinements to the magnifier. While the Starmaster was pleased with the initial design he was far from satisfied. Fandarel concurred. The device's efficiency could be improved. The avion was immediately pulled into the dialogue.
G'dened took advantage of the opportunity to take Masterhealer Oldive and his fellow Weyrleader aside. Placing as much distance between himself and the smiths as the chamber allowed, he spoke in a low, serious tone. "Have you received my request for a new healer at Ista, Master Oldive?"
"I have, but I haven't acted on it yet. You already have a Masterhealer and a journeyman. Why do you want another?"
The Istan pulled his lips into a tight line. He shifted nervously. "Selana's time is almost totally committed to Scylenth. Darian spends most of his time out of the Weyr and, frankly, I wish it was more. I may need your help with him, too."
"Why?" Oldive questioned. "Do you expect trouble from Darian?"
G'dened responded with a low, harsh laugh. The Fort leader's brow furrowed at the reaction, giving his fellow Weyrleader a curiously concerned look. "I'm already having it," G'dened revealed, "and it's going to get worse."
"Why's that?" N'ton asked.
"A couple of days ago one of my wingleaders made a rather tasteless remark about Selana and Scylenth. Not only did I have to deal with Darian, but we almost had a duel between the wingleader and one of my brownriders. The riders I can handle, but I need Darian out for a while. To make matters worse, he's upsetting Selana and that's upsetting Scylenth."
"Where does that leave Selana? They are married," Oldive pointedly reminded him. The Masterhealer did not look happy.
G'dened snorted with ill-concealed disgust. "Until recently, I've had no problem with that. I like Darian and I like Selana. I'm happy they've had some time together and I'm sorry her impression caused them problems. However, my first responsibility is to my Weyr. So far as I'm concerned, their marriage ended the moment Selana impressed Scylenth. She's a queenrider. So long as she's at Ista I intend to hold her to that responsibility."
N'ton caught his breath. He watched the Masterhealer's mouth draw into a deep frown.
The physician's dark eyes flashed angrily. "Lord G'dened, I ask you to remember that you have asked my hall to assign you a healer when you already have two. I understand your concern, but I suggest you reconsider. Darian is a master in my craft and Selana a journeyman. Her impression does not change that. Your insensitivity to their problem, if you adopt the approach you just described, will not go unnoticed. Nor will it be appreciated. I can reassign Selana, if necessary."
The Weyrleader's eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected so strong a reaction. After all, the dragons were essential to Pern. A queen was a treasure to be preserved and protected at all costs. Surely his feelings weren't unreasonable. He glanced at N'ton, who peered anxiously between the antagonists. "Scylenth is an Istan queen. That means Selana stays at Ista."
"Not if I withdraw the Healer Hall support of your Weyr," Oldive reminded him. "I'm sure Eastern would be happy to have them back."
"Lords and Masters, please," the Fort Weyrleader interjected. "We're in the middle of a pass. There has to be an answer that doesn't jeopardize Scylenth or Darian. We don't need a confrontation between Ista and the Healer Hall."
"I concur heartily," a soft baritone added. The trio started at the interruption, turning as one to find the Masterharper standing next to them. "I suggest," Sebell continued, in a low, soft, intense voice, "that you find a solution quickly. And make it one that makes Darian happy." The vehemence in his voice conveyed an uncomfortable sense of urgency. There was no doubt he was deeply concerned.
"I don't think many of us realize how serious this situation is," he explained. "Do you have any idea how dangerous Darian can be?" No one offered an answer, so the harper continued. "Haven't any of you ever wondered how this man, this creature, came here from another planet, from two centuries ago, and speaks our language perfectly?"
"We came forward four centuries, and we all understand each other," the Istan replied. "A few minor changes, yes, but we speak the same language."
"You came forward, yes," Sebell allowed, "but you came from Pern to Pern. Darian comes from Cygnus 4."
"We have common ancestors," G'dened responded, "or at least our planets were both colonized by humans. He had to know the basics. Even if there are minor differences, he'd have learned them in six turns."
Sebell shook his head. "No, Lord G'dened," he informed them. "He speaks our language but only in very general terms. He's still learning the tones and inflections of Pernese speech and much of the vocabulary. What he is doing is like our trying to learn Latin, with the possible exceptions of the Healers and the Herders."
The three men stared at him. Since his arrival on Pern, Darian had communicated easily. How could the Masterharper suggest he didn't know their language.
"That's ridiculous," G'dened growled. "We all understand him."
