What It Is To Be Blue
A thought formed in the groggy Grahamth's mind. Coffee... must have coffee... he shook his head a little, waking up to the intense hunger eating at his stomach.
Coffee? Asked K'rry far too cheerfully. What's that?
I don't know, replied the dragon. But it must mean food. FEED ME! A chuckle answered the little blue.
Come outside greedy guts.
YOU be this hungry and be denied food this long! The blue dragonet jumped off the couch onto the cold stone floor and practically galloped to the hanging meat, where K'rry was cutting gobs off for him.
Oh! This is soooo good! The blue praised his rider's efforts with zest as he gulped down the meat. Then he loafed his way inside to sleep off his gluttony.
Days passed in this fashion, and Grahamth slowly opened his growing mind to things more than eating, sleeping, and excreting. He had reached a point where was half-aware, his mind learning with K'rry in his lessons, and his body sleeping and growing undisturbed. It was undoubtedly the most peaceful state Grahamth found himself in.
He was listening with K'rry to a lecture on the roles of dragons when he had his first revelation. Queens were the egg-layers, the matriarchs, and the most important dragons in the Weyr. Bronzes, the next largest, were the protectors, they mated with the queens, and were leaders in Threadfall. Browns were the wing-seconds, protectors, and the most loyal. Greens were invaluable not only in keeping the male dragons satisfied, but in Threadfall as well.
What about blues? Grahamth asked, fearing his tenuous hold on both his world and K'rry's had failed. What about blues?
He didn't mention us, Love, but we fight Thread as well.
Is that all we are good for? The blue asked, wantonly.
Of course not! K'rry assured his dragon. We are valuable members of the weyr! But both knew that was an empty reassurance. Blues were the least respected dragons in the weyr.
Why are we important? We don't seem to be. Grahamth was feeling a little sick. All we do is take up food. There is no Thread to fight in an interval. Ask why blue dragons matter, Beloved One.
I will. K'rry began to do so, but Grahamth lost his tenuous hold on his rider's world at a pull on his tail. He had been sunning himself in the sand by the lake as his mind resided with K'rry. Three green hatchlings had joined him. They were small and finely boned, with varying hues of skin, but all of them had the same flightiness about them.
The smallest, a clear emerald green with a "teacup" muzzle, stuck that lovely appendage into the air and settled a little farther away when she touched his mind and found who he was.
Humpf. She sounded in Grahamth's mind. This was Wraith, bonded to Bella, the first of his sisters he had met, and the only one he seemed to have alienated.
The other two, an opaque, pastel Easter green and a true summer grass green, were Bath and Myth, bonded to Raina and Aryan, respectively. They were far more typical examples of greens, being flirtatious and quick-to-forget wrongs.
Grahamth greeted his sisters with a polite Good morning,and they began to chatter at him.
Gra'mth, why do you always seem to know so much? Bath asked, her eyes whirling the colors of contentment and curiosity. She was the less intelligent, but more curious of his new friends. Bath was daintier than the bigger, thicker-boned Myth, but not nearly so much as the tiny, beautiful Wraith.
Yes, how do you stay with K'rry when you sleep, Myth chimed in. I want to stay with Aryan too!
It is a task, but I have learned over the days to stay with him. I do not know if I could teach you, Grahamth told the greens, and at their disappointed voices in his head, he sighed and shook it. All right, what you must do first is lie as still as possible. Then find your rider's mind and try to use her senses.
As soon as this was said, Grahamth did so himself, tuning in to the next part of the lecture. He was disappointed about having missed the rest of the draconic roles, but he found the current part as interesting as his weyrmate did.
Tithes are a kind of taxes, no? Grahamth asked, suddenly understanding without realizing how. It was a kind of knowledge deep inside him, like his instinctual hatred of Thread, but different. Why do the holds not like tithing? Do they not understand it is their duty?
They like keeping what they make. I cannot say I blame them. K'rry sounded as if he well understood this concept. His blue found in his mind the reason why. Karry had been the son of a guardsman at Ruatha, and he knew holder minds.
No, but... Well, they should be made to understand that we cannot survive without it!
Sadly, in an Interval, that is less than true. We can survive without it, but if indolent tithing becomes a habit, they will not tithe when we do need it. K'rry sounded sad at this, and Grahamth sent him a wave of love to bolster his rider's strength.
Grahamth was jolted into a realization that pulled him back into his own mind and caused his head to snap up, eyes whirling red and blue. Blues can help the guardsmen of Pern! That can be our place!
The young blue was swirling with excitement and distress. A picture had formed in his mind that he could not explain. He saw through eyes like K'rry's, not his own, in this picture. It was far clearer than the hazy recollections of his hatching and days of slothful growth.
There were people in blue uniforms squatting behind the doors of black-and-white cars, holding their hands metal contraptions that could kill at a distance with no flame or swords. These people were scared, but the trill of adrenalin ran through this avatar-Grahamth with the purpose of steadying his hands and mind. He glanced beside him, and found a thin, wispy young man with hair as dark as K'rry's, but wispy and thin, not thick and wavy. He felt his lips curve into a smile, and he directed his gaze back to the front.
Grahamth, head swimming from his dream, collapsed onto the beach with an ache in his head. The voices of the three greens and the faint fear of his rider resided there with the exhausted blue. He groaned.
What happened? What was that? K'rry asked frantically, giving Grahamth the sense of an interrupted class.
Wow! You are a 'mazing story teller, Gra'mth! Bath told him, her sister Myth adding her approval. Wha' happ'ns nest?!
Even Wraith seemed to be intrigued, but as Grahamth's mind touched hers, she pulled away with a tinge of fright at his being there.
Grahamth had just enough energy to reassure them all before falling deeply asleep. THAT is what blues can do.