The Felines of Pern Chapter 19
Lord Groghe met us as we landed at Fort. "So you managed to make peace happen, just like you said you would, back when we first met in Benden Weyr," he remarked to me. "I respect people who make things happen, and I respect people who keep their word. Even if you aren't actually people. You'll get a warm welcome here." He spoke the truth. Wherever we went, we were greeted, not just politely, but happily. The people of Fort Hold were genuinely glad to see us and meet us, and it wasn't just because we tore into their tunnel-snake population. Our dragon interpreter, green Novith, was kept quite busy relaying everyone's kind words to us. She told us that we had become "goodwill ambassadors" and "celebrities." She had a hard time explaining what that meant; those were unknown concepts among the hunters.
We did our job at Fort Hold, but it took us almost four weeks to do it, because it was such a big place. The tunnel snakes had made themselves so comfortable in Fort's storage caverns that we found one female laying her eggs in a flour barrel. When that problem was finally under control, our next stop was the Healer Hall. Masterhealer Oldive took a personal interest in our success, because the tunnel snakes loved to devour the herbs that his people needed to make medicines. Some of those herbs were hard to find in quantity. I had felt the effects of his medicines, so I was motivated as well. We had to spend only a week there, because the snakes were getting into the Hall through a limited number of gaps in the stonework. Once we sniffed out those holes, the Healer apprentices sealed them shut, we made short work of the snakes that remained inside, and the Healers' tunnel-snake problem was gone.
Then we moved on to Fort Weyr. Like all human habitations, it had its kitchens and its food-storage areas (and they were huge in this Weyr), but it also had a confusing warren of old tunnels and passages that, until recently, were never used. That made them a sanctuary for the tunnel snakes. We had to whittle down their numbers before we dared to enter some of those old areas, or the tunnel snakes might have overwhelmed us by sheer numbers and taken us down. That job wasn't done for well over a month, and we had to keep re-visiting areas that we thought we'd cleared out. The dragonriders' flying lizards helped, but the Weyr was just too big for them to do it alone.
Our next stop was the Harper Hall, where Masterharper Sebell was the Ted. We stayed here for almost a month, which was far longer than it took to wipe out the tunnel snakes there. We found that the cleaners and the kitchen workers were most interested in our snake-hunting skills, while the Harpers themselves were more interested in our voices. They were very curious about the different sounds we could make. Some of them asked us if they could test us, and we agreed as long as it didn't hurt. They found out what was the highest-pitched sound we could produce, the lowest, the longest, and the loudest. One of their "journeymen" brought me into a class of young Harpers and used my growling sound as an example of how they should roll their R's on a particular piece of human music. Once they got used to a hunter growling at them without malice, it became an effective lesson.
And that music! The hunters have no concept of music for its own sake. Our storytellers will use rhythm and pitch to help remember the long tales, of course, and our language is full of pitched sounds. But in this Hall, we were exposed to human music in all its many glories. Oclo was mostly interested in their drums and other percussion instruments, particularly when he learned that the biggest drums were used to send messages to other human places. He wondered if that might be a useful skill for the hunters to learn. After a few days, he actually wanted to strike a drum on his own! The Harpers decided that his paws weren't the best means to this end – he couldn't retract his claws to avoid scratching the leather drumheads – and so they set a drum on its side, and he happily thumped away on it with his tail. The humans commended him on his sense of rhythm. I think they were being kind.
As for me, I will never forget the first time I stood in a doorway and heard the apprentices trying to sing a complex piece in harmony. I had never heard harmony before. A few of them sang flat and ruined the effect, but I could tell what they were trying to do. It was the most amazing sound I had ever heard; I never even imagined that such a sound could exist. Their leader stopped them and they tried it again, and they were almost perfect this time. Almost, but one singer went a hair sharp on the second chorus. My ears went back, and the leader noticed it.
"Stop!" he shouted. "Did you see that? Our hunter friend caught that sharp note. There's no fooling those sensitive ears. We'll try it again, and this time, let's see if we can avoid offending our esteemed guest's superb sense of hearing, shall we?" On the fourth try, they did it perfectly. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed that amazing, glorious harmony. The voices of the hunters could never reproduce that sound, and I knew it might be years before I heard it again. It was so beautiful.
I also met the human called Menolly there. Mirrim had told me, long ago, that I should meet her, and I wasn't sorry I did. She was very kind-hearted, and she had no less than ten flying lizards who looked to her. Those lizards were afraid of us at first, and justifiably so – in our home forest, they would have been prey to us. But, as I explained to Menolly, "we do not eat the friends of friends" (a useful comment that I borrowed from Jaxom's white dragon). Most of her flying lizards grew accustomed to our presence after a few days. The exceptions were the green ones she called Auntie One and Auntie Two, who scolded us from a safe distance whenever they saw us. The brown one whom Menolly called Lazybones decided that flying to his meal was too much work if we were nearby, and he preferred to ride as my passenger. I tolerated this because it amused me. The sight of me with a lizard riding on my back always drew much attention and many comments from the humans.
Then we had to return to Fort Hold because the tunnel snakes were back. We spent two more weeks there, then a quick week at the Runnercraft Hall, then two visits to lesser Holds in the area, then a return visit to Fort Weyr… and it was there that my time came.
Oclo woke up that morning and found me nursing five healthy cubs, two male and three female. He seemed miffed. "Why didn't you wake me up when you knew it was time?"
"Did you think I couldn't handle this without help from a male?" I countered.
"Of course not!" he said. "I just wanted to be there when my first cubs were born."
"I'm sorry – I never thought of that," I admitted. "The other males never cared about stuff like that. They would just count the cubs, ask if they were healthy, and then go find someone else's breakfast to share. And yes, they are all definitely healthy!"
He returned his attention to the litter. He counted them twice, just to make sure. "You do good work," he finally said.
"I had help at the start," I said, and winked at him. That was another human gesture that we'd picked up.
He sighed. "At least I'll have a living legacy after I'm gone." I wanted to tell him to quit sounding so despondent… but he certainly had something to be despondent about.
Novith and her rider spread the word about my cubs, and we soon had visitors from all over the Fort complex. Lord Groghe and his flying lizard were both curious about us. Masterharper Sebell seemed pleased by this development, and many, many dragonriders paraded past us to see the first hunter cubs they'd ever seen. The cubs' mewing sounds entranced many of the women, including Lady Sharra, who visited us along with Lord Jaxom.
"That settles it," Jaxom announced. "As soon as they're old enough, if two of them want to take up residence in Ruatha, we'll take them."
When he had first mentioned that possibility, I had felt slightly indignant that he was in such a hurry to break up my family. Now, I realized that, thanks to Oclo and me, the hunters were no longer seen as strange and threatening. Now we were becoming accepted as a part of life on Pern, and our abilities were no longer seen as novelties; we were perceived as useful. Just like the Smiths and the Harpers, we had talents that other people wanted and were willing to pay for.
The people of Pern no longer thought of the hunters as "them." We had become a part of their "us."
There was no chance of us returning to Honshu while the cubs were so small; going between would be bad for their lungs. We stayed in the Fort area, moving around by straight dragon flights to the various Holds, Halls, and Weyrs to keep the tunnel snakes down, and so everyone could see my cubs. One of the local craftsmen made a thick leather bag, padded on the inside, so the cubs could ride the dragon in comfort and safety.
Oclo caught a small tunnel snake alive one night, and brought it back so the cubs could learn how to deal with it. The moment I saw it, I killed it and swatted it aside. "What are you thinking?" I demanded. "That thing is almost as big as they are! It could kill them!"
"I just wanted them to learn some basic hunting moves," he said apologetically.
"They're far too young for that," I said flatly. "Bring them a dried-out nut that they can bat around with their paws, or some other plaything that won't try to bite a small cub."
"I suppose I still have a lot to learn about fatherhood," he sighed.
"You'll learn," I smiled.
"If I have enough time," he countered sadly.
I began to lose my composure. "Oclo, stop talking like that! You're as sane as I am!"
He faced me squarely. "Rit, ever since this whole thing started, you've told me over and over again, 'I trust the Healer. I trust Ballora.' So why don't you trust her judgment now?"
I looked away; I couldn't face him. "Because living in denial is the only thing that's keeping me from going mad."
The cubs were about three weeks old when we got a familiar visitor. It was Ballora. "You had your litter!" she burst out when she saw me. "No one told me! Oh, they're beautiful! May I see them, please?" I never objected to people checking out my young ones. I realized that they would grow up in a world filled with humans, and they would be completely at ease in Pernese culture. They wouldn't have to adjust to it, like Oclo and I did. I thought about that and decided that it was a good thing.
Ballora ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the cubs, like many human women did. But then she got down on her hands and knees to interact with them, which was something that the other human females hadn't done. The dominant male tried to catch a loose thread on her garment, and Ballora quickly made a game out of it. Oclo and I stood back, knowing that my cubs were in good hands.
"Have you named them yet?" she asked me.
"The two males are Flessin and Jaxon," I began.
"Not Jaxom?" she queried me.
"Our mouths can't make that ending sound," I explained. "The three females are Tai, Sharr, and Glor."
"Glor?" she wondered.
"We can't pronounce the first sound in your name, either, and that's as close as I could come to naming one of them after you." She looked pleased and embarrassed at the same time.
Then she slapped herself in the forehead and stood up. "Oh, these cubs are so distracting! How could I forget? I came here with very important news for the two of you! I've been looking into how the mentasynth in your blood causes the madness, and I think I've found something." We quickly gathered next to her. The cubs followed, trying to figure out why we were staring at her so intently.
"I've isolated the antigen that causes the madness, and I've tried everything to neutralize that awful stuff," she went on. "I tried every kind of herb and medication we know of, I tried light and darkness, I tried different pressures, and I finally found its weakness. It is very sensitive to cold."
"Cold?" I repeated.
"It thrives on warmth, which is what you get in the Southern continent," Ballora told us. "All it takes is a quick reduction in body temperature, even a very small reduction, and the stuff is rendered completely inert. It's still in your system, but it can't harm you. The effects of the cold slowly wear off, but then another dose of cold will knock it out again."
"So all we have to do," Oclo concluded, "is live in Telgar Hold for the rest of our lives, and we'll never develop the madness? I suppose that's better than being dead. I can get used to it, I think. I'll miss Honshu, though. Will Lord Larad allow us to stay in his lands?"
"You don't have to do that," Ballora half-smiled. "There's a better way, and you've already found it. It's been keeping you sane for months, and it will continue to keep you sane and healthy for as long as you keep doing it."
"Going between!" I nearly shouted.
"Exactly!" She couldn't hide her smile now. "All you have to do is go between now and then, and the madness will never develop. You can live long, healthy, happy lives anywhere you want, without fear."
"So the thing I hate the most," Oclo said slowly, "is the thing that's going to save my life. Such irony!"
"It's just as ironic as me turning to our hated enemies, the humans, for the healing I needed, back when all of this started," I added. "Where's the hate now?"
He nodded. "Well, anything is better than being dead, even going between. I suppose I could do that. Yes, I can definitely do that. You're sure that this will work?" His morose mood was visibly falling away.
"I'm pretty sure," she answered. "I've done some simple experiments, and they all point to a cold cure for you. To be 100% sure, I'll need another blood sample from each of you."
"You've got it," Oclo said eagerly. "Just say when you want it."
"It's like Lessa said – the Healers are the key to the whole problem," I commented. "Does this apply to every hunter on Pern?"
"If there was a way to take them all between, then yes, the madness would never affect any of them," the healer said. "But that's a lot of dragon flights, even if we can get all the other hunters to agree to it."
"Why not?" Oclo asked. "A big brown or a bronze could carry half a dozen of us at once. I know that the Weyrleader of Benden wants to find ways to keep the dragons busy after Thread stops falling. Could there be a better use for dragons than to keep the hunters alive and healthy?"
"From a hunter's point of view, I'm sure that's true, but will the dragons see it that way?" Ballora asked.
We like the hunters, as long as they do not attack us, green Novith cut in. They are reasonable and their thoughts are almost never confused, the way a human's thoughts sometimes are. Also, their spotted fur is pleasing to our eyes. They are intelligent and they deserve to live. If we can keep them from getting sick, then we will surely do so.
"So you need us, we need you, the dragons need us, and you also need the dragons," Ballora concluded. "Humans aren't native to Pern, your kind came from Earth felines, and the dragons were bred from a native Pernese species, but you'd think we were all created to live together and benefit each other." She paused, then went on, "Of course, some of the hunting bands will resist accepting help from their so-called enemies."
"That's true," I nodded. "There will soon be two kinds of hunting bands: the ones who will accept a human alliance and the ones who won't. The ones who resist will still get the treated carcasses, they won't benefit from the humans' healing abilities, and they'll still suffer from the madness. Their numbers will dwindle, while the ones who ally with the humans will thrive. Eventually, there will be only one kind of hunting band left on Pern: the kind with common sense and human friends. Ballora, I think you and F'lessan have reset our entire species."
"How often do we have to go between?" Oclo asked.
"I don't know the answer to that yet," the Healer told him. "For now, we'll say once every four months, just to be safe. You probably don't have to go that often, but I need to run some more tests before I can say for sure. I promise you, you won't have to spend your entire lives wrapped in your flight-blankets, and you'll never fear the madness again!"
"That's good news," Oclo decided. "In fact, it's the best news!" He ran to the nearest opening into the Weyr bowl and joyously let out the howling sound that is the loudest call we can make. Little Glor toddled along beside him and tried to copy him, but a tiny "mew" was the best she could do.
From all over the bowl, the dragons answered with trumpeting calls of their own. Novith had told them the wonderful news that we had just learned, and they responded with joy to the news. Thanks to the dragons' abilities and Ballora's determined research, our lives could be safe from the madness forever. A new species had been fully welcomed into the culture of the world of Pern!
