A/N: Welcome back. Here is the next installment. There are more Author's notes at the bottom as I don't want to give anything away. Reviews are appreciated and sorely missed when absent.
Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is copyrighted to Anne McCaffrey and her Son Todd. This is fanfiction which garners NO MONEY WHATSOEVER for the author.
Orders
Confederation Light Cruiser Phobos
One day from Rukbat
Susan Evans sat on the couch in the guest quarters she had been assigned, eyes closed, and thinking. She was mentally reviewing all the records she had read, reviewing and adding to the overall picture of Pernese Culture she had assembled over the five months she had been on board.
She was itching to get her feet dirt side. The Phobos had all the amenities for an extended duration trip. The synthesizers were a cut above the standard commercial model. The lighting was adequate, but she longed to feel sunlight on her face. The recreation and diversion facilities were top-notch but the only place she could jog was on a treadmill. She was not a rat and wanted to run to a changing scene.
She rose and checking the time, noticed it was near dinner time. She could always eat in her suite, she did have a synthesizer, after all, but she preferred to dine in public.
She headed to the Officer's Mess. She got a tray of synthesized fettuccini Alfredo with a Caesar salad and iced tea and went to sit with the captain, Niles Horn. She had a standing invitation to dine with him.
"Good evening, Ambassador," Captain Horn said.
"And a good evening to you, Captain. I still don't see how you drink that stuff." She was referring, of course, to the Klah he was drinking. She had tasted the stuff and almost choked. It was worse than coffee and she hated coffee.
"Like coffee, it's an acquired taste," Horn told her. "From what I've seen those who like coffee usually like Klah. Those who don't invariably hate it worse than coffee."
"I would be one of the latter," Susan told him. "I think it tastes utterly horrid."
"Well, for myself, I'll be glad when we make planet fall so I can taste the real article fresh brewed. Even navy synthesizers don't get the flavors quite right."
"So when do you expect we'll be in orbit?" Susan asked him.
"According to the Navigator, we should be in orbit at about 1300 tomorrow. We'll contact the surface via the Yokohama and then proceed to Benden Weyr on the surface."
"Why Benden Weyr?" Susan wanted to know. "I would think Fort Hold would be a better choice. That's the first established hold and one of the most respected of the civilian settlements. I would think that the Lord Holder there would feel slighted if we first went to a Weyr."
"We can go to Fort if you like, but I thought you might want to see your brother first."
"No. That is tempting, but I cannot and will not allow personal feelings to interfere with my duties as ambassador. I must pay my respects to Lord Holder Groghe first."
"As you wish, Ambassador. I'm sure you will be given conveyance to Benden Weyr when you request it. I would offer to take you in the shuttle, but from what I read in the records, travel by dragon is much quicker."
"And unsettling," Susan noted. "Eight seconds of sensory deprivation in null space. Still it would be much quicker than even the shuttle."
"I would actually like to see what it's like," Horn told her. "Of course my Exec would have a fit. But from what I read in Brandt's report and in the files he downloaded it seems rather safe for a seasoned rider."
"You have access to the downloaded files?" Susan knew he was considered trustworthy; otherwise he wouldn't have been given a command in the black, as the Navy put it. Still she didn't see how he had a need to know about the temporal abilities of the dragons.
"Most of them. There are a few records that are deleted. I assume they are highly classified and I have no need to know."
Susan nodded. "I see."
"Very cagey, Ambassador," Horn said with a chuckle. "I know better than to speculate on classified matters. I am glad that you joined me for dinner, though. Saves me the need for a meeting tomorrow before we enter orbit."
"We'll be meeting anyway. Don't try to open your sealed orders without my being present. They require ambassadorial clearance."
Horn looked at her in astonishment. "What? Ambassadorial clearance? What does the Confederation have up its sleeve?"
"You'll find out when we meet at 12:30 tomorrow," Susan told him. She wiped her mouth and threw the napkin on the now empty tray. "That was good. The Navy has better synthesizers than those available to the public."
"It still doesn't get steak right," Horn commented.
"It's not meant to. If it did there would be quite a few ranchers out of work. Well, I need to do some more work and then I plan to turn in early. Good evening, Captain." Susan put her tray in the recycle slot and made her way back to her quarters.
---
"Come in," Horn called.
Susan walked into his bridge office and took a seat. "Computer," she said, "Open the commanding officer's sealed orders for his eyes only. Authorization: Alpha Zeta Three Four Nine Two Daystar Seven."
"Authorization accepted," responded the baritone of the computer. "Orders now open and displayed on Bridge Office desk terminal."
Horn was reading the orders and then his eyes widened. "They can't be serious! That would be a major convenience but I'm not sure it's possible."
"That's what we need to find out. Continue reading, Captain."
He did so. After less than a minute he looked up, his eyes flashing. "There is no way you will get this past their Council. The other, maybe, but this?"
"Why do you think all that containment equipment was loaded?" Susan asked him. "I will need you to assure their council that the containment equipment and procedures are virtually foolproof."
Horn shook his head in wonder. "It's the virtually part that concerns me, Ambassador. If containment does fail for some unknown reason..."
"That would be unfortunate," Susan interrupted.
"Unfortunate!" Horn exploded. "You have a penchant for understatement, Ambassador. It would be catastrophe!"
"Only for those within a ten kilometer radius."
"You cannot be serious!" Horn was reading the orders then he looked up in awe. "You are serious. A MAM? This is unbelievable."
"We must understand this Thread if at all possible. At the same time we cannot risk it escaping containment. Better to lose ten lives than thousands of hectares of forests and food producing fields that will result in starvation for hundreds or thousands later."
"And Dr. Silby and his team agreed to this?"
"It was his idea," Susan told him. "He had the same reservations you did. He made it a condition that a MAM was included. He wouldn't even consider beginning field research without that final defense. He also requires direct uncoerced authorization from their council. He will be present at the proposal and all negotiations."
This actually made sense to Horn. Marcus Silby was known as a brilliant researcher who was always cognizant of the ramifications and consequences of his research. His ethics were beyond reproach. When they had asked him to research strengthening the human immune system to counter all disease, he had refused outright, saying that such was how humans evolved. Without disease humans would stagnate and not evolve. Nothing the establishment said could shake him.
"I'll testify that containment should be foolproof and nothing that is vulnerable to fire could survive the detonation of a MAM," Horn told her. "But I think this is a bad idea. What if they say no and won't change their minds?"
"Then the answer is 'No'," Susan assured him. "Even if my orders were otherwise, which I assure, they are not; Silby won't begin his research until he receives permission from a two-thirds majority of the Lord Holders. He has read their charter and respects it."
Horn nodded then spoke. "I am also a little concerned with the first," Horn said. "I'm not sure a dragon could live on another world. From what I read, dragons kill their own food. They probably have a psychological need to do so. So the synthesizer is out of the question although it could provide all the nutrients needed. I'm not sure cattle raised and fed on another world would provide the required nutrients. And then there is the rider to think about. The boron content of the local flora is higher than any planet we've ever come across."
"I share your concerns," Susan said. "But for the rider, he could eat synthesized foods with the proper boron content. I also think a supplement could be synthesized for the dragon."
Horn nodded. He hadn't thought of that. "Still, we are talking about the dragons teleporting trillions of miles. I'm not sure this is possible."
"I find it hard to believe myself," Susan told him. "What I am about to say is classified Top Secret, Need To Know Only. I judge you have a need to know."
"I understand, Ambassador."
Susan continued. "According to the records a dragon takes approximately seven seconds to orient himself in null space. Travel time is then by orders of magnitude, with 1000 kilometers taking 1 second, 10,000 kilometers 2 seconds etcetera. Plus the seven second orientation time, of course."
Horns mouth fell open. You are talking about two hundred light years in twenty seconds!"
"Actually it's about two point seven seconds per order of magnitude after a few orders so it's about forty seconds. But I quite understand. That seems unbelievable. And the rider would need to be suited. A dragon can hold his breath for fifteen minutes and is impervious to space during that time. A human doesn't have that kind of constitution. And I think it would be a good idea if the dragon had eaten the day before."
Horn was nodding while he finished reading the orders.
"Computer, close sealed orders file."
"File closed," responded the computer.
"According to the orders, I am to assist you as you require when you contact the dolphins. According to the orders, they are sentient beings as well."
"Yes. I'm sure the dolphineers will be happy to hear that."
"Anything up the Confederation's sleeve concerning them?"
"No. I am just to open a dialog with The Tillek and ask if there is anything they need."
"Which should be nothing," Horn mused. "They've been there for twenty five hundred years. It appears they have totally adapted to those seas."
"I concur," Susan stated. "None of this is to be discussed outside this office until it is formally proposed to the Conclave. Is that clear, Captain?"
"As crystal, Ambassador."
The communications console beeped. "Captain, we are five minutes from hyperspace exit," came the voice of Commander Cynthia Lemos, the Exec.
"I'll be right there, Mr. Lemos," Horn replied and closed the circuit. "Care to join me, Ambassador?"
"Of course, Captain."
A/N: I relied on published canon in All The Weyrs Of Pern for the dragon travel times. The formula is on page 315 of my copy which is a paperback copy published by Del Rey. The 29th printing? Not sure. The printing history line on the copyright page reads:
OPM 29 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20
I did take a bit of liberty as the formula is not specified exactly. I chose 2.7 seconds per order of magnitude after 10 million kilometers. The problem is after a 7 second orientation by the dragon, 1600km takes 1 second, 10,000 takes 2 seconds, 100,000 takes 3.6 seconds, 1,000,000 takes 4.8 and 10,000,000 takes 7 to 10 seconds. So while it is a logarithmic scale in the main, there are some discrepancies. I don't know if this is a misprint or if it was intentional on the part of the author. I had to take some kind of average. I calculated an average of 8.5 seconds travel time for 10,000,000. When I averaged these out I came up with 2.666667 seconds. I rounded up to the nearest tenth of a second. One light year is a bit over 9 trillion kilometers so two hundred light years is almost 2000 trillion. This is about 13 orders of magnitude more than 1000 kilometers. Suffice it to say it would take about 40 seconds for a dragon to teleport 200 light years using this formula.