The Greatest Bond

by. N. Rackley

NOTE: This was a story that I wrote way back when I was eleven years old. Some day I hope to finish it. We discovered the original manuscript a short while ago, and decided to post it for everyone's reading pleasure. Enjoy!

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Derek set down his book on the night stand. He was extremely tired. Completing the book for the fifth time was not a great feat for him, it was his obsession. He had read the entire series four times through from beginning to end, and now it was his fifth.

The series was about dragons, and the people who rode them. The rose to battle a menace from the skies, called Thread. It was written by an author - Anne McCaffrey.

Derek turned off his light, and then pulled himself under the bed covers. He drifted into deep sleep.

The next morning was a Saturday. Derek got up early and started to practice his electric guitar. He usually kept the amplifier down low, since he didn't like other people to critique his playing, and began to practice.

He had been practicing for several years now, and though not very many people knew it, he was getting good. Almost good enough to be in a band.

That night he lay down again in his bed. As he closed his eyes, he thought he heard something. Derek tried to turn, but he was too exhausted. He drifted into subconsciousness.

***

Derek drifted in an immense blackness. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel, he couldn't breathe! It was what seemed like forever...

***

There was a fleeting glimpse of sunlight. Derek could faintly hear the ocean. It was close. He realized that he was outside - but how could he? Derek tried to move, but he felt stiff. He couldn't even lift a finger.

Derek groaned. He couldn't move. As he lay there, he felt as a shadow went over him. He heard a swooping sound, and then a thud as something heavy landed nearby. He felt a slight breeze.

Who is it? asked a voice.

"I don't know. I'll find out." The second was very similar to the first. Derek tried to turn his head, but he was too weak. He could hear a man making tracks for him.

"Hey!" called a man's voice. "Hey!" Closer now. Derek still couldn't move.

He felt the man kneel over him. The man was tall, but not particularly thin. Dressed in a strange garment made of leather, the man touched Derek's forehead.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Derek tried to respond, but all he could amass was a very weak cough. He felt sick and exhausted. Through the tiny slits of his eyes, he saw the man turn.

Yes? asked the first voice.

"We need to get him back to Fort. He seems to be very ill."

Right away.

As Derek drifted into unconsciousness, he didn't feel as the man lifted him onto the back of a large elegant beast and went back into the black oblivion.

***

The buzzer rang loudly. Derek smacked the button with his hand and got up. It was still early morning Sunday, but he still had practicing to do. He got out his electric guitar and started reviewing his chords again.

Sleep came quickly again.

Derek lay in a bed against a stone wall. There were a few people standing over him, and one held a basket up with something glowing inside it to get a better look at him.

"Is he all right?" asked a woman's voice.

"The Master Healer says that he will be fine in a while. He just needs time," came a reply - another woman. The woman left. Derek struggled, and was finally able to assume a sitting position.

Derek observed the chamber that he was in. It seemed, to his knowledge, to be very large. He observed one pit, at the far side, with a bright fire lit in it. The light danced off the stone walls.

There was a noise.

A lite plinking at first, resonating through the walls, but it became louder and much more distinct. Derek could recognize it now as the plinking of a guitar - not an electric one like he was used to, but an acoustic. It had wonderful sound.

Derek stood up and started down the hallway shakily. He made his way slowly down the stairs, following the sound, until he found himself in another chamber. People surrounded large tables, eating and drinking. The sound of talking was almost deafening, and only quieted when the guitar was played. The man who played it was dressed in a deep, vibrant blue.

Derek made his way along the wall, and watched cautiously. He observed the player for some time.

Eventually, when most of the crowd had cleared, the man set down his guitar, and walked to the far side of the chamber to speak with someone. No one noticed Derek as he picked up the guitar. He sat on the stool. People (though not many) did turn, however, when he started to strike a few cords. The chamber was almost empty, but a woman, who was speaking with the man in blue, turned to see who was playing. So did the man, and both their jaws dropped.

Derek didn't notice. His head was swimming with different thoughts, and the only way he knew to clear it up was by playing.

When he stopped, however, he could hear a man (the one in the blue) clapping. "Good playing, son!" he said, "How long have you been practicing?"

Derek looked at him, clearly puzzled.

"Twelve years."

"Years? I vaguely remember hearing of such a term... a nomenclature that we here refer to as a turn, I believe. But twelve?"

"Well, that's not exactly accurate. I've been playing stringed instruments for twelve years. The guitar, however, I only started playing about three years ago."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Well then. How did you learn?" The man was walking towards him.

"I taught myself."

"You did?!"

"Yes... it's not that hard when you've had formal education in other instruments. For example, I already knew how to read music, so..." Derek looked the man hesitantly in the eye, "it makes it easier."

The man straightened, thinking. Then he held out his hand. "I see now that you don't wear Fort's colors. I am Master Tallon from the Harper Hall."

"H-harper Hall?"

"Yes."

"What?!"

"I said that I'm from the Harper Hall."

"I... Where am I, anyway? I found myself in a room upstairs. The last thing I remember before that was..." He thought hard about it. All he could remember was... "The... the... I remember a beach."

"Well, son, you're at Fort Hold."

"But... But I can't be at Fort Hold! It's impossible!"

"Why is it impossible?"

"Because Fort Hold doesn't exist!"

The man looked at him blankly for a minute. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from the southwest! In the United States! Planet Earth! Not Pern, Earth! I'm probably older now than anyone you've ever known, if you want a comparison - I'm older than your ancients! Older than Admiral Benden! By - By thousands of years!"

The woman went out the door. The sound "Master Healer" could be heard. A man stepped into the chamber. He was a tall, beared man.

"You need rest," said the man, "You don't look well."

"Well?" asked Derek, "I'm more than well! I'm fine!"

"What has he been saying?" asked the Healer.

The harper turned to him. "He says he's from Earth. But that's impossible! No one could span that distance without a dragon - and even then, it's too far a distance to traverse."

"What Pass is it?" asked Derek.

"Pass?" asked the harper.

"Yes. What Pass?"

"There are no more passes," said the healer. "Lord F'lar saw to that."

"Good," muttered Derek. He let them follow him as he went back to the chamber he had been resting in. "I hope that you think about what I've been saying," he said. "I am telling the truth. I don't know how I got here, but I am from Earth." In fact, it had been Derek's dream to be on Pern. He had wished it, willed it, hoped. It was simply the suddenness that had startled him. He went to bed.

***

Derek woke up Monday. Time for school. He thought about his dream. Dream? It seemed too real... He wondered what would happen next.