What's a Runner to Do? Chapter 1
A/N
This story takes place shortly after the events in "Runner of Pern." If you haven't read that story, it's part of the collection called "A Gift of Dragons" by Anne McCaffrey.
o
"Honestly, Haligon, I don't think your runners like Runners!"
Tenna had used that line before on her husband, and she really meant it. He had no answer; it wasn't his fault, but it seemed to be true. In her youth, one of Haligon's runnerbeasts had forced her off a running trace, causing her painful injuries. Now, their daughter was suffering an even worse fate for much the same reason.
Tenna had wed Haligon two years after their unfortunate first meeting, and their marriage was a happy one. Their original intent was "to raise runners of both the four-legged and the two-legged varieties," and their record on that score was somewhat patchy. True, Haligon's runnerbeasts had become the envy of all Pern (except for Ruatha, whose runners still bested him at nearly every turn). But the two-legged runners... that part hadn't turned out so well. Tenna had done her part, providing her husband with three healthy daughters and two strong sons. But most of them showed no interest in becoming Runners. The sons had left for Southern as soon as they reached their majority, looking for Holdings of their own. Two of the daughters had followed them, looking for lonely Holders who needed wives. Only the youngest daughter, Hanna, had both the build and the inclination to pursue her mother's craft. She had been accepted into the ranks of the Runners, she had finished her first long-distance run, she had come home to be congratulated by her mother... and she'd been kicked in the knee by one of her father's stallions.
That was nearly two months ago. Hanna had carefully followed all of the Healers' instructions in regard to her injury. The bruise was gone, the swelling was mostly gone, but it still hurt if she put her weight on it wrong. She could run short and medium distances without discomfort... but that wasn't enough for the Runnercraft. If her knee did not completely heal, she probably had no future as a Runner. She had been summoned to a meeting with the Master-runner today, and the topic was certain to be her future in her Craft.
"Just be honest," Tenna told her. "Maybe you just need a little more time to heal. You've got my legs and my energy level, and the Master-runner knows it. You won't be tossed out like a stale meatroll." Tenna was probably right about that, Hanna decided. After all, Tenna was one of the very few women Runners who had returned to their Craft after years of motherhood and improved on her original condition. That was one of the main reasons why Tenna was a Journeyman Runner, still active on the traces at an age where many Runners were considering stepping aside and taking up station duties.
"I'm not worried," Hanna said as she left, but she was lying. She worried all the way to the Runners' Hall, and all the way to the Master-runner's office.
"You sent for me, Master?" she asked nervously.
"Yes, Hanna. Please sit down." Master-runner Hoca gestured toward a simple but comfortable-looking wooden chair in the corner of her office. Hanna sat down and braced herself.
"How are your injuries?" Hoca began kindly.
Hanna flexed her knee to make sure nothing had changed lately. "I feel better," she told her, "but I don't think I'm back to one hundred percent yet. The Healer says there's still some ligament damage in the left knee. I'm sure I can handle some short and medium-distance runs without any problems."
The Master scowled slightly. "A runner's career is more like a cross-Pern journey than a sprint at the Gathers, Hanna. You are just beginning that journey. If you don't allow yourself to heal fully, then you will never reach your full potential and you will be of no use to this Hall." She steepled her fingers and frowned at her apprentice's shocked expression. "Would you relax, please? I don't bite. I don't hit people in the jaw, either."
Hanna flushed scarlet. "You're not blaming me for my mother's transgression, are you, Master?"
"Perish the thought," Hoca replied with the barest hint of a smile. "Unfortunately, your father's runnerbeasts are still transgressing, and that's why you're injured. Something is definitely wrong in that knee. I think it will be good if I take you off the traces for a while."
She almost leaped out of her chair. "Master, no! I mean, what am I going to do if I can't run?"
Hoca pointed firmly at Hanna's seat and waited until she sat down again. "I have a special assignment for you, Hanna, one that may greatly benefit our Craft. I'm sending you to the Southern Continent for a while. They say the air, the water, and the food there are good for people who are recovering from injuries. While you're there, you will be the Runnercraft's official representative to take some questions to AIVAS."
"AIVAS?" she repeated blankly. "Who or what is AIVAS?"
"AIVAS is... how shall I describe it?" Hoca closed her eyes for a moment. "AIVAS is best described as an amazing machine left over from our ancestors, a machine that talks like a man. A person can speak to it, ask questions, and receive answers. I'm told that some of AIVAS' ancient knowledge is quite remarkable, and very useful to us as well."
"And what questions do you want me to take to this AIVAS?" she asked.
The Master leaned toward her. "I'm concerned about the future of our Craft," she began. "Mastersmith Fandarel has invented a means of sending messages along a wire. Words can flow along that wire as fast as a person on one end can tap out the codes for each letter, and as fast as a person on the other end can translate those codes back into letters again. All the Lord Holders are clamoring for wires, so they all can send and receive instant messages.
"Not only that, but some of the science that we've recovered from the ancients is even more remarkable. I haven't seen them, but I'm told that, when the dragon riders go to the Red Star so they can push it away from us, they will wear special helmets with something in them called 'radio' that lets them talk to each other over great distances. This 'radio' will work on Pern just as well as in the cold vacuum of space, and you don't even have to encode anything, the way you do with Fandarel's wires. You just talk, and the other person listens, perhaps from miles away."
Hanna hadn't been following the news of the discoveries in Landing and the great plan to rid Pern of Thread forever; she had been too intent on training herself for her future as a runner. But the implications of her Master's words needed no decoding. "But if people can send messages by wires and by... what did you call it? 'Radio,' then why will they need runners?"
"My concern exactly," Hoca nodded. "Our Craft is a resilient one. Thousands of Turns ago, when the Harper Hall figured out how to send short messages by using coded drum signals, they took away some of our business. We learned to deal with that. For the past few Turns, a few fortunate people have been sending messages to each other via fire lizard instead of sending them through us. We're learning to deal with that, and we can probably learn to deal with wires and 'radio' as well. But I want to be sure, and if we have to change our way of doing things, I'd like to set those changes in motion as soon as possible.
"That's why I'm sending you to AIVAS. I want you to tell it about the existential threat that our Craft is facing, and ask it if the ancients had any solutions to similar problems that might benefit us. Will you do this for me, Hanna?"
"Of course I will, Master," she nodded. "When does my ship leave?"
The Master-runner smiled. "It doesn't."
o
Cansa, the Headwoman of Fort Weyr, shook her head. "You're all leg, Hanna! Fitting you for flying clothes just isn't going to work if we use pre-made clothing. I have a dozen jackets that will fit you perfectly, but we'll have to enlist the Weyr Tanner if we're going to find you a set of pants that will fit properly."
"I still don't see the need for all this," Hanna fussed. "I mean, I'm only going to wear them twice, right? Once for the trip down, and once for the trip back. Wouldn't it be a lot easier if I just wrap myself in a blanket or something?"
"That's not how the Weyr does things," Cansa said with a firm shake of her head. "When someone is recovering from an injury, we don't take any chances with their health. You have no idea how cold and hostile between is. Even with a full set of flying leathers, it will still chill you to the bones! If that happens, it can make your injuries worse, and I am not willing to get called before a Craftmaster so I can explain why we didn't protect your health properly. No, when a Master like Hoca asks us to transport a special messenger for the benefit of her Craft, we do it right and we do it properly." Her manner softened. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to let the young queen-riders count the tubers in the storage rooms for a change. If I'm engaged in a special assignment for a Craftmaster, then that means I'm much too busy to count tubers!" She chuckled. "Let's see. There has to be someone around here who's built like you, whom I can use as a starting point for making you a set of flying leathers. I'll talk to Silvina at the Harper Hall. Between the two of us, we'll find someone your size who already has leathers, I'll get your measures from her, and you'll have a first-class flying suit in no time at all."
The Headwoman was as good as her word. Three days later, Hanna was trying on her brand-new flying leathers.
"I'm not used to having such nice clothing," she admitted. "I hope you didn't go to extraordinary lengths to make these for me."
"It was no problem," Cansa told her. "It turns out there's someone else at the Harper Hall, a journeyman named Menolly, who's built very much like you are. We took the measures of the flying gear we made for her, tucked in the hip a little, gave your upper legs a bit more room to account for running muscle, and here you are! You're ready for your first flight between. I won't say 'enjoy it' because nobody does. But it's over quickly, and then you'll be in Southern, which is supposed to have much nicer weather than we have here."
"I don't know how to thank you," Hanna admitted.
"Then I'll tell you," Cansa said in her businesslike tone that often was the prelude to saying something personal. "They say that the redfruits in Southern are huge, and much juicier than the ones that grow around here. When you return home, can you bring me some ripe Southern redfruits? I'd love to taste something different, and I'm told that Lady Benoria of Fort Hold enjoys them as well. You could make several people happy at once."
"Those sound like the kind of people I'd like to make happy," she nodded. "I'll try to remember."
"Right – off with you, then!" Cansa smiled. "Your dragon should be arriving any minute now, and you don't want to keep a dragonrider waiting!" She gave Hanna's shoulders a nudge to get her moving. A few minutes later, an aging brown dragon appeared above the Weyr, circled down, and landed neatly in front of her. She thought it odd that the dragon's nose seemed to have a reddish hue.
The rider pulled up his goggles and looked down at her. Hanna suddenly heard a voice inside her head. You are Hanna?
"Yes... yes, I am," she answered, stunned. "Are you the dragon? I mean, are you the one who's talking to me?"
Yes, said the voice. The dragon's huge head swung around to look at her. I am Rudolth. My rider, H'mee, lost his voice due to a Thread injury to his throat, so I speak for him.
She managed a quick bow. "I'm pleased to meet both of you."
The rider saluted quickly. Please climb aboard me. Take my rider's hand, step up onto my foreleg, and settle yourself on my neck right behind him. She did so. Now attach your riding belt to the straps, and hang onto H'mee tightly. I take off quickly for a brown.
She obeyed. The space between the two neck ridges felt a bit tight for her, but by wiggling her hips, she was able to get comfortable. She wrapped her arms around the rider's waist and called, "I'm ready!"
Then we shall fly!
The big dragon ran several steps, bounded into the air, settled back to the ground, and got fully airborne on the second try. Hanna couldn't help thinking, "He probably took off quickly for a brown when he was young, but that must have been a long time ago." They steadily gained height until they cleared the Bowl and sailed away into clear air.
I am about to go between. Brace yourself. Two moments later, everything went cold and black. How could the dragonriders endure this on a daily basis? She clung to H'mee's waist and mentally begged the dragon to end this quickly. Then, as suddenly as the dark ride had started, it stopped, and they were over a thick forest that stretched away to the horizon.
We will be at Landing in a few minutes, the dragon told her. There are a great many dragons coming and going because of the Red Star project, so I was asked not to come out of between too close to the landing pattern.
As she watched, another dragon appeared out of nowhere, just in front of them. She turned to look behind them, and saw another – no, two more dragons following them in. Multiple dots circling in the sky ahead of them showed where they were going. It was easy to see why they had been asked to appear at a distance from Landing. With all these dragons in the sky at once, mid-air collisions would be easy, and they could be catastrophic.
It took eight minutes to fly the remaining distance to Landing, pick out a dragon-sized spot of ground that didn't already have a dragon on it, and land. Rudolth's landing was light and comfortable, and H'mee wordlessly helped her dismount from his dragon.
"Thank you, both of you," she called up to them. "It was a pleasant ride. Much faster and smoother than going by ship, I'm sure."
You are welcome, said the dragon. Please be aware that I can hear whatever you are thinking, if I so choose.
"You mean you heard me thinking that you're – oh, no!" She hid her face in her hands. "Rudolth, I'm so sorry! The thought just hit me! I didn't mean to be rude!"
You were kinder than many. I accept your apology. I will gladly give you another ride if you ever require it.
"Thank you. Thank you so much! Both of you!" H'mee nodded, pulled his flying goggles back down over his weathered face, and they vaulted skyward again. They seemed to get airborne a lot more easily this time.
"You really do take off quickly!" she said out loud. "Was my weight holding you back?"
You are not heavy, but at my age, any extra weight is noticeable. We are going home, and I am going to take a nice long nap. Enjoy your stay in Southern. The dragon flicked between and was gone.
She looked around. There were people all over the place, and all of them seemed to know exactly where they were going. "Okay, Hanna, here you are," she said to herself. "What do you do now?" She looked around for someone who might be able to give her directions. There were plenty of people coming and going – dragonriders, technical craftsmen and women (mostly young, she noticed), Miners in varying degrees of filthiness, and people whose appearance gave no clue to their occupation. She settled on a middle-aged woman who didn't seem to be moving as fast as everyone else.
"Excuse me," she called; the woman stopped. "Can you tell me how to get to AIVAS?"
"I think that depends on whether you already have an appointment to see him," the woman replied.
"Him?" Hanna repeated. "I thought AIVAS was a machine, not a person."
The woman smiled. "He is a machine, but once you've spoken to him for a few minutes, you'll start thinking of him as a person. He seems to affect everyone that way. If you don't have an appointment, then you have to get one from one of the Landing administrators. The main office is the big, low building in that direction." She pointed down one of the heavily-traveled dirt roads. "If you don't mind my asking, what do you want to see him for?"
"My name is Hanna, and I've been sent by the Master-runner with some questions to ask it. I mean him."
The older woman nodded. "I think the Crafts have a lot more questions for him than the Holds or the Weyrs. I'm Doria; I just got my journeyman's knots as a Healer. Masterhealer Oldive has questions about the effects of diet on health, but he's too busy to come, so he sent me."
"A Healer," Hanna said with a grimace. "That figures. Are you sure the Master-runner didn't send you here to check up on me?"
"I'm quite sure," Doria said, "but why would he do that? Are you hurt or sick?"
"I'm recovering from a losing battle with a runnerbeast's hoof," Hanna explained. "I'm almost all better, but the Master-runner is very concerned that I'll push my recovery too fast."
"Your Master-runner is a wise woman," Doria smiled. "You wouldn't believe how many people come to see me because they thought they were all better from their sickness or their injury, so they returned to their normal routine before they should have, and BANG!" She clapped her hands together. "They wound up sick or injured all over again. But I haven't treated many leg injuries before, aside from a couple of children. Most adults know to stay clear of the kicking end of runnerbeasts."
"Most adults don't have runnerbeasts in their own back yards because their father breeds them," Hanna shot back tightly.
"I'm sorry," Doria said quickly. "I shouldn't have assumed that it was your fault somehow. Can I make it up to you?"
"What did you have in mind?" Hanna wondered.
"Well, you just told me that your Master-runner is concerned about your health. Here's my suggestion: go the Administration building and get your appointment to see AIVAS. That probably won't happen for a day or two. As soon as you've got the appointment, go to the Health building and tell the secretary that you're here to see Doria. My afternoon is almost completely free, for a change. I'll give you a quick exam, so you can tell your Master that you really did take care of yourself, and so I can get some real-life practice treating knee injuries. I'll give you another free exam just before you leave Southern. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like I'm never going to get a break from being poked and prodded by Healers," Hanna sighed.
"Getting kicked by a runnerbeast isn't the most pleasant thing that can happen to a Runner," Doria replied. "A Runner's legs are like a Harper's fingers or a Smith's arms – without them, you've got no career. I promise to keep the poking and prodding to a minimum. But you really do need to take extra-good care of yourself until a Healer pronounces you one hundred percent healed."
Hanna sighed again. "Seeing how you probably won't give me any rest until you've appeased your curiosity about my knee, then I suppose I'd better accept. Oh, and thank you for the advice and the directions. You said I won't get to see AIVAS for a day or two?"
"At the very least," Doria nodded. "There are all kinds of projects going on here, large and small, and I think AIVAS is involved in every one of them. There's the Red Star project, there's talk of starting up two or three brand-new Crafthalls, there are all kinds of improvements for all of the existing Crafts, there are people who are learning more about AIVAS himself, there's a steady stream of Lord Holders and other Holders who want AIVAS to tell them how important they are... you're just going to have to wait in line. While you're at the Admin building, you might want to ask about food and lodging. You're going to be here for a while."
"Again, thank you for the advice," Hanna said. "Anything else?"
"Find someplace where you can run," Doria suggested. "You're a Runner, so I know you want to keep your legs in shape, even though you haven't been cleared for distance running yet. Landing wasn't laid out with Runners in mind, so you'll have to improvise."
"What about all these streets?" Hanna wondered.
"They're always full of foot traffic," the Healer responded. "And I do mean always, and I do mean full! You'd be moving faster than them when you're running, which means you'd be fighting your way through the crowd with every step you take. If you don't want endless frustration and multiple human collisions, then I'd strongly suggest finding someplace else to do your running. Speaking of which, I've got to run! I'm almost late for an appointment with two apprentice Healers who need to learn about fire-head fever before lunch. I'll see you at the Health building after you've eaten." She turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Hanna somewhat breathless from the encounter.
"Okay," she said to no one. "I guess I'm off to the Admin building, then." She followed Doria's directions and found the place after about fifteen minutes.
"Can I help you?" asked a girl at the front desk.
"I'm here to get an appointment to see AIVAS," Hanna replied.
"Personal business or official business?"
"Official business. I'm here on behalf of Master-runner Hoca," Hanna said crisply.
The girl nodded. "You'll have to see one of the head administrators. Let's see... Lytol is tied up on the Red Star project today, and D'ram is visiting his old Weyr. That leaves Robinton. He's probably at the AIVAS building." She gave Hanna directions, and added, "Master Robinton should be easy to find. Look for a tall man who looks like he needs to have something in his hands, like a gitar or a glass of red wine." Hanna thanked her and left.
The AIVAS building wasn't very impressive to look at. But there was a constant stream of people coming and going. She joined the line and filed into the building, looking from side to side as she passed various meeting rooms and offices. It was in one of those offices that she found the man she was looking for. She tapped timidly on the open door and waited for him to respond.
"Come in," he said without looking up from the papers he was skimming. When she hesitated, he looked up and added, "I don't bite, you know."
She smiled in spite of her nervousness. "Does every Craftmaster say those words?"
"I suspect that most of us have to say those words quite a bit," Robinton replied. "Apprentices tend to forget that every Master was once an apprentice like them. Can I help you with something?"
Hanna explained her errand. Robinton nodded and turned to an odd-looking device with a glass screen and multiple rows of buttons in front of it. "I'm afraid you picked a bad time. AIVAS can handle multiple interviews at once, but we've got so many projects going on, even his capabilities are taxed at certain times of the day." He hit some buttons, frowned, hit another one, and frowned again. "It looks like the earliest we can fit you in is four days from now, in the early morning. I think two hours will be about right."
"Two hours?" Hanna repeated. "Will it take that long for AIVAS to find the answers to my questions?"
"No, the answers will start flowing as soon as you walk in the door," Robinton said. "You'll need two hours because, once AIVAS starts talking, either he or you will think of more questions for him to answer. AIVAS is a great believer in answering every possible question, so you don't have to come back to him twice. He's quite efficient in that way. Even Master Fandarel approves." He tapped a few buttons on his keyboard, and hit the last one with a flourish. "There. You have an appointment for four days from now, at sunrise. If you forget, it will be four or five more days before you'll get another chance."
"I won't forget," Hanna promised. "Thank you, Master."
"Please call me Robinton," the tall man said. "I'm retired; I'm no longer the Master of anything."
Hanna might be partially ignorant of the goings-on at Landing, but everyone on Pern knew about Robinton. "Sir, to me, you'll always be a Master."
He shook his head resignedly. "That's what everyone tells me. I suppose I should feel honored." Then someone behind her tapped on the door, and she knew it was time to leave. She thanked him again and left.
After another visit to the Admin building, she had a meal assignment and a key to a room, where she would stay for the next four days. The room was in one of the Ancients' buildings that had withstood the tests of time and the elements. It was plain and somewhat artificial-looking, but it would be comfortable enough. She changed from her flying clothes into her usual garb, enjoyed a quick lunch in the dining hall, surrounded by strangers who were busily talking to each other about their various projects, then found her way to the Health building. The older woman at the front desk checked a paper and said, "Healer Doria is waiting for you. Down that hall; she's the last door on your left."
Doria smiled when Hanna walked in. "I'll be honest – I half-expected you to be a no-show," she said.
"I keep my promises," Hanna said simply.
"Of course you do – that's how true Runners are raised," the Healer said. "Let's get down to business. Are you injured anywhere except your leg?"
"I got a few bruises on my side and upper arm when I fell," Hanna told her, "but the Station Healer said those injuries are completely healed."
"I'd like to have a look at those, just so I can say I gave you a thorough check-up." Hanna complied; Doria checked her quickly and nodded. "And now, the leg, please."
She took longer to examine those injuries. "Hmm. That left knee bothers me. Does it bother you?"
"It's still tender to the touch, in certain places," Hanna admitted. "Sometimes it hurts a little when I put my full weight on it."
"After all this time, it should have healed better than that," Doria decided.
"That's what the Station Healer says," the runner nodded.
"Well, if two Healers on two different continents agree on something, then it's probably true," Doria said with a hint of a smile. "Did the Station Healer give you anything to rub on that knee?"
"He did," Hanna said. "It was a jar of yellow-colored ointment that smelled like a fruit dessert gone sour. He said to use it all up, but he didn't say anything about getting more when it was gone."
"That's what I'm going to give you," Doria said, "and when it's gone, go back to your Healer for more. Keep using it until the tenderness is gone." She took a deep breath. "I won't lie to you, Hanna. If that injury is still there after all this time, it may never fully recover."
"I won't be cleared for unlimited running?" Hanna gasped.
"That's not my decision to make," Doria replied quickly. "I'll do the best I can for you. You're young and in good shape; you might recover anyway, in spite of what all the Healers think. It's happened before. I just want you to mentally prepare yourself for the worst. I don't want you to get blindsided."
"Why didn't the Healers in Fort tell me that?" sputtered Hanna.
"I don't know," Doria said. "The signs are clear enough. Maybe they just don't want to be the bearers of bad news for someone they know and like."
There was a long silence.
"I... I appreciate your honesty," Hanna finally said.
"I never lie to my patients," Doria said firmly. "Masterhealer Oldive says I need to work on my bedside manner, but I've never found a better way to deliver bad news than to just say it."
There was another awkward silence.
"I suppose I should be looking for some places to run," Hanna said at last.
"By all means, stay in good running condition," Doria nodded. "There's no reason why you can't keep running, as long as you don't push yourself too hard. But if that knee begins to bother you, stop running and come back to see me."
"I will," Hanna said. She took the jar of ointment from the Healer and left the building in a daze.