Looking around the Weyr's massive living-cavern, Sorka was hard pressed to remember how it had appeared just a couple of months ago, empty and desolate. Now, it was almost unrecognisable. The hardest work had been cutting through into the adjacent caverns to the south and east, even with the use of as many powerpacks and stonecutters as Joel could spare. But with the bulk of the rubble finally shifted, things had changed very rapidly indeed. The eastern cave complex was dry and mostly snake-free, and would be used for storage. The south-western cave had the best drainage and its own water supply. It also had a natural two-tiered structure; the lower level was now well on the way to becoming a functional laundry and bathing room, with more sleeping accommodation and an infirmary above.
To the southeast of the main cavern, wide steps led down into another natural cave, which was steadily being partitioned into further living quarters, more storage and offices. A heavy door on the far side opened onto the road out of the Weyr, which was over half a klick long and descended nearly a hundred metres along its length. Grading and levelling the ground in all the major caverns and along the tunnel that connected the Weyr with the road to Fort Hold had been another major job, but it had eventually been completed to Sean's satisfaction. The road needed to be both broad and smooth, especially since they couldn't waste glows along its whole length. On the far side, they'd excavated some caves for storage and stabling - there was no sense bringing horses into the Weyrbowl, after all!
But the most dramatic changes had occurred inside the main cavern, with only the last few finishing touches now left to be made. Sonja Ostrovsky and Nick Doyle had done sterling work completing the geothermal tap and connecting it up to various points in the main cavern, and the kitchen had been fully plumbed in. To Sorka's satisfaction, Yashma had pronounced it even better than Fort Hold's; it seemed they'd have no trouble encouraging some of the kitchen workers up to the Weyr, especially now that they had proper beds for everyone, and tables and chairs to sit on. A second hearth had been set up near the main entrance to the living-caverns, making good use of a natural chimney running through the rock face. It'd be kept on the go all day long providing klah and stews to the workers and riders, and saving them the trouble of trudging all the way through to the main kitchens just for a warm drink.
Several other vertical shafts had been widened and straightened, and converted into light-shafts to catch the afternoon sunlight. Each one had its own cunning system of shutters and gutters to protect the cavern during Threadfall, in the event that a stray Thread escaped the notice of the dragons. The autumnal sunlight streaming down the shafts was fairly dim, but even that made a very pleasant change from glowbaskets in the dark of the caves - and provided some entertainment for the handful of young children hanging around the Weyr today while their parents worked. Smiling, Sorka watched the small group jump from one patch of light to another, chasing dust-motes. In her arms, Michael squirmed, probably wanting to join in with the fun.
"Off you go then, love," she said as she lowered him to the ground. The toddler took a few steps towards the other kids, and promptly got distracted by the soft dried seagrass that was strewn across the cavern floor. Sorka smiled indulgently; he'd always had a knack for creating his own fun, far more so than the other children of that age that Mairi fostered.
Keeping a close eye on her son, Sorka carefully crossed the cavern towards the table where Helen Trury was working. The diminutive women was barely visible behind the piles of fabric offcuts, wherry-down and an idle sewing machine, and Sorka was curious about what the woman was working on today. Lucas's wife had been one of the most welcome additions to the Weyr; she was a qualified surveyor, and had spent many hours with Sonja's team working out how to make best use of the Weyr's natural caves, to great effect. Amongst her other ideas, a number of natural undulations in the rock wall on the north side of the cavern had been deepened to form storage alcoves. A small team of joats were working there today, fitting shelving to the newly created spaces. But even though all the major structural work had now been completed, Helen hadn't stopped working. For the last week, she'd instead turned her creativity towards recycling fabric scraps into comfortable soft furnishings.
"Afternoon, Sorka!" Helen called out cheerily as she spotted Sorka approaching. "How're you doing today?"
Sorka shook her head, and pulled out a chair. "I've been kicked, inside and out, and the sciatica's killing me."
Helen pursed her lips in sympathy. "Can't be much longer now though. What does Basil reckon again?"
"Three more weeks. Him and my Ma both tell me this little one won't be as slow as Mikey was though."
"Ain't that the truth," the other woman agreed with a laugh.
Sorka grinned, and looked round to check on Michael again. He'd got bored of the grasses, and joined the other kids in a game of follow-the-leader; thankfully, they weren't being too rambunctious about it.
"So what're you making for us today?"
"Oh, I'm just experimenting, really. And it's not for the Weyr this time either." Helen gave Sorka a conspiratorial wink, and pulled a bundle of colourful fabric out of her lap. "I haven't finished stuffing him yet, but you can probably figure it out."
Four legs, a long tail and neck, two wings. Iridescent shell buttons sewn on tight made the dragon's eyes, and white stitching marked out the claws. Real dragons didn't come in quite so many different shades of course, but that hardly mattered in a toy.
"Helen, that's marvellous!"
"Well, we don't get as many of the dragonet clutches here in the north, so I thought I might try and come up with a substitute - for the younger kids, at least. Something to inspire them, maybe get them dreaming about a career with real dragons, eh?"
Now that wasn't a bad idea at all, Sorka decided. In the two weeks since the candidate lessons had begun, ten had dropped out. Sorka had managed to convince a handful more people to join the classes in a week or so's time, once Chereth's and Porth's clutches had hatched, but they'd soon be feeling the lack of numbers. Tenneth's clutch was expected to be almost as large as Porth's, with Milath's even larger.
"In that case, I'd call it Weyr work anyway." Sorka said. "You know how badly we need more candidates. Let me have your timesheet later, and I'll sign off some marked hours on the Weyr's tab for you."
Helen shook her head. "No, this is just fun for me, not work. Besides, I got plenty of marks from all the surveying I did for you over the last few months. Getting a chance to use my training is worth twice the wages, believe me" She picked up the miniature dragon again, and stuffed another handful of wherry-down into its belly. "Say, would you know any nice young gentlemen in need of a dragon? He's not very big, so his friend will need to be quite small, I think."
Sorka laughed. "I can think of one or two!" And sure enough, Michael had come running up at just that moment, blue eyes round at the sight of the little dragon.
"Well, young man," Helen began. "Are you big and strong and brave enough to be a dragonrider?"
Mikey nodded, his expression as serious as a two and a half year old's could be.
"And you'll treat your dragon kindly, and not chew on his tail?" Sorka added.
"Yes, mummy," the young boy answered without a second's pause.
"I think I believe him," Helen said, and ruffled his hair. "I've just got a few stitches to put in him before he's ready, but that won't take long, and then he's all yours."
Thrilled, Michael turned to his mother with a beaming smile.
"And what do you say to Helen for giving him to you?"
"Thankoo!"
The boy was bouncing up and down by Sorka's side impatiently by the time Helen was finished, and the moment the toy dragon was passed over he was off, trotting around the room making its wings flutter in the air. Sorka and Helen watched him make it fly for a while, until Mairi collected him along with the rest of the youngsters for their afternoon nap. Somehow, Sorka didn't think they'd get much rest today.
"Mind if I join you?"
Sorka twisted her head round to see Alianne, carrying a tray of Klah and sweet cakes. "No, not at all."
Alianne placed the tray on the table, brushing the fabric aside, and sat down. "Ma sends her compliments - she still can't believe how perfect the kitchen is, you know. Personally, I think she just likes being away from Morag's nattering... any sweetener, Helen?"
Sorka found her mind drifting as the two women conversed, simply enjoying the sharp taste of the klah contrasting with the soft cake. She'd cut down on her caffeine intake a lot during the pregnancy, and although the Klah would probably jolt the baby into action pretty soon, she was determined to enjoy the tranquility of the moment while it lasted. Her attention returned when the conversation moved on to the hatching and impression, as most conversations inevitably did these days.
"...of course I'd love to see Lucas Impress, despite everything we've heard. If you can cope, so can we, right?"
"What if he doesn't? Will the two of you stay here?" Sorka asked.
Helen looked almost shocked. "Of course! Why do you think I've spent so much time making this place comfortable? We want this to be our home, just as much as it is yours and your dragons'."
"We'll be glad to have you here with us," Alianne said warmly.
Sorka nodded agreement. Even if Lucas didn't Impress, the two had certainly done their bit for the Weyr, and set a good example. And the better life at the Weyr seemed, the more chance there was that Sorka could persuade other people to stand as candidates for the eggs.
Thinking of candidates... Sorka sighed. Her back was aching quite a bit today, and she didn't relish the ten minute waddle over to the weyrling barracks, but it was a job that needed doing. "I should probably make a move. I want to check how the barracks are progressing before they get completely shadowed by the ridge."
Alianne shook her head firmly. "No, you're staying put, Sorka. I spoke to Sonja earlier, and she said all the building work looked fine. Some of the candidates may be pretty clueless about dragons, but at least most of them can put one stone on top another, or wield a shovel!"
"They're not doing too badly in their classes, Pete tells me."
In fact, except for those that had dropped out, the candidates had all found very suitable roles in the Weyr's routines. Not everyone was at work on building the barracks; some of the girls and younger lads simply hadn't developed the strength for heavy labour yet. A number had displayed some aptitude for animals, and were working with the Weyr's resident herdsman on getting the cows settled, and marking the culls that'd be butchered as soon as they had a better idea of when the eggs would hatch. A first aid class had been run that morning, and the same small group were now helping Tarrie oil Porth. Others were working with Sam and Nick on the Weyr's power supply, Betsy was brewing numbweed on the outside stove, and anyone who hadn't found a better excuse was out by the bunker bagging firestone. Three of the candidates, Sara Byrne, Sita Radamanth and Jamie Duff had shown an interest in dragonhealing, and done well in the anatomy class; Sorka had started training them in the basics, with dragonets as props. She had high hopes that the latter two would stay at the Weyr even if they didn't Impress. Sara was more doubtful - Sean reckoned she'd go back to being a dolphineer if a dragon didn't choose her before spring.
"Oh, they're trying, I'll give 'em that," Alianne said, rolling her eyes. "Very, very trying! They're in and out of the hatching cavern every time they have a moment to spare, always asking Tarrie or I if they can have a closer look at the eggs." Alianne scowled. "There's only so many times I can say 'no' politely."
"Lucas too?" Helen asked with a wince.
"Don't worry dear, he's not the worst of them by a long way!" Alianne leaned back in her chair, and ran her fingers through her hair. "I guess I just want to have this all done with. I keep second guessing Chereth, you know, wondering why she's favouring this egg over that one, things like that. We'll both be glad when they hatch."
"I know the feeling," Sorka said, resting her hands on her tummy. Baby Connell was definitely waking up again.
"Lucas tells me it could be as early as next week?" Helen asked.
Sorka nodded. "That's what we think. But hopefully we'll get a day or two more; there's still so much to be done."
"And I guess I'll have to make sure Chereth lets the dignitaries have a good view tomorrow," Alianne said with a sigh.
If today had been busy, tomorrow would almost certainly be worse. All of the work crews had strict instructions to tidy things up tonight, in preparation for Admiral Benden's visit the following morning. He'd had quite a few useful suggestions for the efficient running of a quasi-military establishment, and Sean was determined to make him proud of what they'd achieved here. And, he certainly had influence back at the Hold... a few favourable comments from either the Admiral himself or Ju, his wife, might possibly encourage a few more volunteers for the Weyr.
Sorka smiled reassuringly. "Please. It'll be the last time before the hatching; I'll make sure the candidates stop bothering you when I speak to them tonight."
"Thank you, Sorka. Anyway, I should get back to Chereth. She's starting to wonder where I am."
Michael's nap should be over soon, and Sorka wanted to be there when he woke up. "I should head off too. Thanks for the Klah, Ali. And for Mikey's dragon, Helen... though I'm sure it won't be the last you make!"
Sorka pushed her chair back, and made her way back across the organised chaos of the cavern. Everything was progressing as well as it ought to, it seemed.
Now all they needed was for the newest dragons to successfully hatch and Impress.