It had been great seeing Elli and the others again, but they had their lives to lead, and so did we. The people of Pern had plans to make. It was while I was going over some of those plans that I received an unexpected call from the Wolfhound.
It started with a beeping noise in my office that I eventually isolated to a cabinet along a far wall. Inside was the communicator that the Wolfhound's crew had graciously allowed me to keep. Only now it was beeping incessantly at me.
Slipping the main piece over my ear and swinging the mike into place, I pressed the transmit button, calling, "Wolfhound, this is Angel Zero One. Go ahead."
"Sorry to interrupt your work down there, Sterling," Admiral Morgan personally responded, "but I've got some news for the people of Pern that can't wait. How soon can you get all the dragon leaders together?"
I checked the wall-mounted electronic data screens the Aquilan engineers had graciously added to my office, perusing the upcoming Fall forecasts. "In a couple of hours, Admiral. Some of them are dealing with Thread at the moment."
"Gather them as soon as you can, Sterling," was the Admiral's earnest response. "Wolfhound out."
As I removed the communicator, it suddenly occurred to me that Admiral Morgan could've just as easily called me on the ship-to-shore vidcomm link we had set up. Why use the communicator instead? It didn't make sense. Three hours later, I was none the wiser as I asked Tarnaa to contact all the weyrs. Heeding my summons, the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen of Pern convened in the large meeting room in the Admin building of Landing.
"What's this all about, Dana?" F'lar wondered as he and the others took seats around the enormous conference room table.
"I'm as much in the dark as you, F'lar," I admitted, shaking my head. "All I know is that Admiral Morgan aboard the Wolfhound called this morning saying he had important news for the people of Pern."
"Then let's hear it!" N'ton responded, leaning forward in his chair.
"AIVAS?" I called out.
A 3-D hologram of Admiral Morgan from the waist up appeared over the center of the table.
"We're here, Admiral," I spoke, taking my own seat.
"Then I won't keep you in suspense any longer," Admiral Morgan responded, nodding around the room. "Our science teams just completed an extensive sweep of the debris trail the rogue planetoid you call the Red Star trails behind it."
"To what end, Admiral?" I asked, curious about their actions.
"To determine how long this current… Pass… will last," he replied, grinning broadly. "To say the least, the results left me and the science teams speechless!"
"Why?" Lessa wondered, leaning on the edge of the conference room table. "What did you find? Oh, please tell me it's good news."
"It's way better than good, Weyrwoman," Admiral Morgan replied, smiling and nodding. "It's absolutely astronomical! Thanks to those spore killers, or zebedees as you call them, that your people developed then seeded into the debris trail of your Red Star, this Pass won't end in another thirty years… sorry… Turns… but in a single, solitary one!"
"WHAT?!" everyone gasped, leaping to their collective feet.
Grinning broadly at the news he was relaying, Admiral Morgan said, "In less than one of your Turns, Thread will cease to fall on Pern or threaten your citizens ever again! You've done it, Dragonriders! By all that's holy, you've actually done it! Congratulations!"
For several seconds, the room was silent. Small wonder considering the magnitude of the news we had just been given. Just as quickly, everyone exploded with cheers of delight mixed in with sobs of painfully intense relief!
"And the Oort Cloud, Admiral?" I asked into a momentary lull in the celebration.
"Completely devoid of any of the spore spheroids," he replied, his own joy reflected in his eyes and on his face. "Whoever engineered those spore killers did an extraordinarily exemplary job, Sterling. Considering your people had to relearn all the science and medicine necessary to pull off such a feat, I am well and truly gob smacked. Well done, everyone! Well done!"
"Thank… thank you… for the news, Admiral!" I wept, giving those around me a hug even as the raucous celebration continued. "We really appreciate everything you and your crew have done for us."
"A pleasure, Sterling!" Admiral Morgan replied, giving me a salute. "Wolfhound out!"
The 3-D image faded away.
"AIVAS?" I called out over the din.
"Masterhealer?" it instantly responded.
"Please tell me you recorded all of that," I barely managed to say, overcome with the emotions I felt.
"Naturally," it matter-of-factly declared. "One of the duties of this facility is to record events so that future generations could learn about their history."
"Wait till the rest of Pern hears this!" Lessa excitedly exclaimed, throwing her arms around F'lar's neck and hugging him tightly. "By Faranth's Egg!"
"Then we'd best get the Harpers going!" F'lar replied, swinging his weyrmate around in his arms, grinning like a fool.
The incredible news swept like wildfire across Landing, driven first by the boisterous bugling of all the dragons there then by the humans who celebrated this long awaited development. The end to the nightmare… the end to their seemingly eternal struggle against the ravages of Thread… was at last in sight! And once Masterharper Menolly and her husband Sebell got involved, the news swept across Pern as the old saying went… faster than Thread could burrow!
Reluctantly, the Harper Hall had to caution patience on everyone's part. While the news was greatly heartening, no one could relax their guard until that much anticipated day when Thread would finally cease to fall on Pern, still nearly a Turn away.
But that didn't stop the celebration planning from proceeding apace. Every holder, crafter, and weyrperson gradually developed their own individual plans for that momentous day. Lords Holder across the planet set their staffs to work; the celebrations they were planning would make anything before it pale to insignificance in comparison.
Lady Sharra of Ruatha Hold received enormous praise from the people of Pern. Not surprising as she had been part of the medical team that had dissected and studied a spore spheroid, an effort that eventually led to the creation of the spore killers that were seeded into the debris path of the Red Star, unexpectedly bringing Threadfall to an early though greatly appreciated terminus.
As much as I wanted to believe what the Wolfhound had found, I was still uncertain. So, I contacted Admiral Morgan to beg a favor.
Chuckling, Admiral Morgan told me, "This is why your team was so good at the sector sweeps, Sterling. You never left anything to chance."
"Sorry if I seem like a pain, Admiral…"
"No worries, Sterling," he replied, smiling as he signaled one of his bridge personnel. "We're downloading all the data our survey teams gathered to AIVAS. The damned thing should be able to process the information and provide you with a second opinion."
"Thank you, Admiral."
"That's not all, Sterling," he added, a small secondary window opening in the main monitor showing a vessel that looked a lot like…
"The Quester?!" I gasped, staring in wonder at what I saw.
"No," Admiral Morgan corrected me, "but a one-man scout just like the one you used to have."
"Refitted with FTL nacelles!" I whispered, tracing the image on the monitor.
"Having gotten to know you, Sterling," Admiral Morgan calmly spoke, real camaraderie coming through in his words, "I knew you wouldn't be satisfied with just a review of our data. This ship is now yours."
"What?!"
"It's waiting for you in Hanger One at Landing," Admiral Morgan informed me, grinning broadly at my astonishment. "Try not to scratch the paint, Sterling. Wolfhound out!"
For nearly five minutes after the screen went blank, I sat there, numb with shock and amazement. And then, I burst out laughing, nearly falling out of my seat!
With AIVAS' help, I did do a thorough review of all the sensor data the Wolfhound's science teams had gathered but turned up no surprises. Everything checked out. So, I went down to Hanger One and climbed aboard the Quester II, Goldie chittering excitedly from her perch on my shoulder as I powered up the systems before taxiing out to the runway. The vessel responded nimbly to my controls, quickly rocketing down the runway before rising skyward. With a final scan of the immediate area of space over Landing, I kicked in the FTL nacelles, causing a massive sonic boom as my ship rocketed skyward in an FTL blur.
Thankfully, this version of my old scout vessel had arti-grav mini generators built into the cockpit so that Goldie didn't go slamming to the back of the cockpit during our rapid climb to outer space. Her excitement grew along with mine, chittering happily as we located the Red Star then set up a course back along the debris trail where the Thread spheroids were still visible. The further we went, the fewer spheroids the sensors picked up… until we reached its end… a trail that would rain Thread down on Pern for the better part of this Turn, slowly tapering off until we reached Fall's End in just under one Turn.
I continued to follow the old debris path but found nothing… even all the way to Rukbat's Oort Cloud. And the cloud itself? Plenty of cometary and planetary debris… but completely devoid of any Thread spheroids!
I sat there, speechless with awe mixed with painfully intense relief. It was true! Everything the Wolfhound's science teams had found and reported was true! Hours later, Goldie and I returned to Pern, bringing the Quester II to ground at Landing and taxiing clear of the runway before parking back in Hanger One. Tears of joy fell from my face as I closed and secured the hatch before closing up the hanger.
"Mommy!" a familiar voice called out.
Turning at the sound, I saw little Moreta running my way, arms out to me, Goldie taking wing. Right behind her stood L'trel, Tarnaa watchfully beside him on one side, Fellth on the other.
"'Reta!" I exclaimed, picking her up before giving her a hug and kiss. "You being good?"
"Mmm hmm!" she vigorously replied as she gave me a hug around the neck.
"Nice to see you, love," I spoke, stepping up to L'trel so I could give him a kiss.
"That was you blasting out of here earlier, wasn't it?" he asked, thumbing towards the hanger. "Do you have any idea how loud that sonic boom was?! Several windows all over Landing including the admin building, AIVAS, even the Kendite embassy shattered!"
"Ow!" I winced, instantly contrite. "Sorry."
"Big boom, Mommy!" 'Reta spoke. "I scared!"
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry," I apologized, hugging her a second time.
"They heard that blast as far away as Honshu and the Eastern Islands Weyr!" L'trel went on, gesturing off in their directions. "What by the First Egg was so urgent?"
"It's true," I whispered, glancing skyward, tears running down my face.
"What's true?" L'trel wondered.
"Mommy sad?" little Moreta asked, her little face lined with worry.
"No, precious," I replied, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Happy."
"What's true?" L'trel asked, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Why are you happy?"
"Admiral Morgan sent me all the data his search teams had garnered about the Thread debris trail," I explained, settling 'Reta to my hip, one arm around her waist, her tiny arms wrapped around my neck. "I double-checked it all with AIVAS."
"And?"
"It all checked out."
"But?"
"He and his crew gave me a new scout vessel," I explained, nodding towards the hanger, "just like my old ship."
"The one you used to get here?"
I nodded.
Pleased realization lit up L'trel's face, a wry smile on his lips. "You checked it out yourself, didn't you?"
Smiling, wiping a tear away, I nodded. "It's FTL equipped. I was able to follow the trail all the way back to the Oort Cloud."
"It was just like the Admiral reported, wasn't it?" Tarnaa rumbled, her eyes shading to a happy blue color.
"Just a little while longer," I sighed, wrapping my free arm around L'trel's waist, leaning into the strength of his shoulder. "Soon, Pern will be forever free of Thread!"
Fall's End came right as the Wolfhound's crew had predicted. While many on Pern began to celebrate, the Dragonriders of Pern kept up their vigil for another month, not wanting to take a chance on even a single spore spheroid making it to the surface. During that seemingly eternal vigil, not a single strand of Thread was reported anywhere on the planet. Only then did the dragonriders and their lifemates finally relax, joining in on the celebrations that were going on. Only then did they have reason to celebrate. Threadfall was finally over!
Thus relieved of their primary duty to the people of Pern, the dragonriders began to make their own plans in earnest. When they had first Impressed their lifemates, each rider had expected to spend a good portion of their life in that seemingly endless battle against their ancient adversary. Now, survey teams from every weyr descended on the Southern Continent, hoping to do as the Ancients had once sought to do… to lay claim to a certain number of stake acres where they could create a new life for themselves and their dragons.
Lord Toric of Southern Hold was constantly heard complaining about how the worthless milksops were stealing land that should've been his. Back at Ruatha, when Sharra heard about her brother's incessant whining, she flipped a rude gesture in the direction of Southern Hold, saying to no one in particular, "Oh, cry me a river, brother!"
F'lar and Lessa, on the other hand, began to spend every moment they could aboard Faranth's Legacy, learning from the Federation instructors everything they could about the safe and proper operation of the systems on board the ship. As it turned out, there were quite a few on Pern, holders and crafters alike, who also wanted to explore the vastness of space; even some of the family members of the convicted Abominators! All were welcomed by the dragonriders and allowed to join in their studies of the new ship.
Gradually, with intense instruction and plenty of practice, the Federation instructors finally deemed the new crew qualified and ready to pilot their new vessel. It was certainly no Gather dance. The science and technology they had needed to learn was quite intense and intricate, but the people of Pern once again proved up to the task, winning approval from their Federation associates.
But how did their dragons fit into this new vessel originally designed for just humanoid occupants? Let's start with where it was built… the orbital shipyards of Pun Ch'lar! And who better to direct its modifications than Pumara De'Tenna, the Kendite Matriarch, rider of gold Puneth! The central habitation area was large enough to permit dragons to fly about, keeping up their wing strength while being shipbound. What the Matriarch did was modify several passageways and add several new ones leading to the outer areas of the ship, allowing the dragon crew members to spread out throughout the ship to their designated 'porting stations. Each was equipped with foot and hand holds the dragons could use to grasp the ship, making it that much easier for them to shift the vessel. And, because the chambers were within the ship, the dragons would not suffer from the oxygen deprivation they had experienced in the past.
"Looks like setting up Friendship Weyr on Pun Ch'lar paid unexpected dividends, Weyrleader, Weyrwoman," Berd Sheerbro commented as the three toured the vessel. "The Matriarch did an amazing job getting the vessel ready for you…"
"As well as incorporating the ideas you had first suggested back when we shifted the Bahrain and the Buenos Aires," F'lar added, thumping the Robinton Cove holder on the shoulder. "Sure you don't want to come with us? You'd make a fine addition to the crew."
"I promised the Ambassador that I would look after Robinton Cove for her," he replied, smiling at F'lar and Lessa.
"If that sort of work begins to pale…" Lessa told him, giving his other shoulder a gentle squeeze, "give us a call. Dana will know how to reach us."
Monumental changes had come to Pern. The burden of Thread was gone, thanks to the efforts of the dragonriders. Many of the holders and crafters were already looking to expand their lands and to pursue new interests. Dragons and their riders were settling regions of the Southern Continent, embarking on a new lifestyle they were not accustomed to… but were eager to embrace. It wasn't hard to guess why. Anything, however mundane it might seem, was infinitely better than battling Thread!