It was early evening when Genny stepped out from the Weyrwoman's quarters, surveyed the Bowl, and imagined what it might have looked like almost twenty turns ago. Saleneth's clutch was finally on the High Reaches Sands and tended for the moment by the still virgin Babreth - overjoyed but anxious by the dozen eggs under her care. Genny had found Nallene accommodating as ever when she made the request. With only 12 eggs, Babreth's still juvenile size could adequately encompass the nest as fully as any naturally protective mother dragon could want. She fidgeted around with the eggs, sniffing and rearranging them with the overkill attention and reverence of a bailiff not fully comfortable with her charge.
With this competent duo covering for her, for the time being Genny decided it was finally time for her to execute the plan she had made. Three fortnights shy of nineteen Turns back was the exact point Genny had targeted. This date would be especially easy because in passing, Diedra had tipped Genny off to the fact that Pern's two moons would be equidistant in the sky. This was an image she needed to ingrain in her mind's eye before she undertook the jump. Genny reflected that she would have been between three and four Turns at this selected moment.
Having read Sonia's journals, Genny decided not to take the whole jump all at once. She decided to test this traveling between times for a shorter spread first, selecting a time with which she had at least some familiarity. Picking this date was easy, and she even had very distinct memories of an adjacent time that would help guide her. In fact, she had reason to suspect she had in fact made the jump, for there was too much left unsaid otherwise. It was decided: she would jump to the night before the passing of the Oldies. Perhaps she could give T'mir the farewell for she had always yearned. Genny figured that time of day would become irrelevant with the amount of time that would actually be passing, so she decided to rest up as much as possible, knowing the ordeal would require a huge amount of energy. She studied the dawn pre-dawn light, with its stars still visible, carefully. This was the time she would be returning after this was all over. Since she had indications that the other legs of her journey would go smoothly, she knew this was the one she would have to take most seriously.
The cold of between was longer, more heart-stopping than it had ever been before, long enough for the uncertainty of her success to creep into Genny's thoughts. Fortunately, her senses returned to her at last, and the picture of the High Reaches she had imagined slowly came into focus. It was drizzling lightly when Genny and Saleneth emerged back over the familiar, but different, Seven Spindles she had just left. For one, it was an entirely different time of day. The grey of the pre-dawn was replaced with the dark of night. Since she knew the Oldies had all passed around dawn in the High Reaches while she was in Igen, she hoped that arriving late at night would give her enough time to say her goodbyes. It would also keep probing eyes from marking her clandestine arrival. In this time, G'ny was still supposed to be banished to Igen, so the fewer people to notice her presence the better. She had Saleneth reach out to Tolluth first. Tolluth says to join them in the Main Hall, they are waiting for you, was the helpful reply.
"Ah, G'ny, I'm glad you are here. The Weyrwoman said you would likely make it." T'mir greeted her. G'ny ran up to and hugged her Weyrlingmaster, tears coming to her eyes. She had missed him so much in the three and a half Turns since she had last seen him. He looked older than she had ever remembered him.
"Genny, Genny, how good of you to come." Behind him, a Moura more fragile than Genny had ever seen her rose up from a chair to give Genny a warm, frail hug. Looking around, she noticed that all of the Oldies seemed more worn down than they had the last time she had seen all of them, when she first departed for Igen. "Genny, since you are here now, nothing I will say will be anything you have not figured out, or at least suspected, on your own." The former Weyrwoman informed her like an old friend sharing a secret. Then she turned to address the gathered crowd.
"My fellow Old Riders of High Reaches, though we have all travelled far and wide, we know this era here is our home. We have all lived to our fullest both here and when we have been needed most, so at last we will make our final leap together, here. Now, we will all go out on equal footing, having served as much time as able – a great reconciliation as it were." Moura had opened and begun pouring a jug of wine as she spoke, an older bronze rider assisting her with the stubborn cork.
"While any who will remain in this time who would share our secret sleep, let us revel – a sentiment unknown in the time of this oppressive Weyrwoman – in our time together before we depart just as the new day dawns and the younger generation awakes!" The mugs of wine that had been distributed all around were now raised in a toast. The dig at Allika's governance was not lost on Genny. Although she was not there to experience it, those dark times were enough to make even a vivacious dragonrider have thoughts of going between. It had indeed made for convenient speculation at the time of the Oldies' motives.
"To High Reaches! And to Pern!" Two dozen haggard voices rang out in subdued tones so as not to wake the sleeping Weyr.
"Imagine what it's like, knowing it's your last night on Pern. It would be more formidable if I didn't know I had served my time right." T'mir confided to Genny.
"T'mir," Genny began slowly, "What have you seen?"
"Ah, an old man like me ought not corrupt the likes of a young woman like you, but I will say this: Thread is just as terrifying and inspiring as the Harper songs make it out to be. And you, Weyrwoman what have you seen?" He challenged back at her. Moura must have given him a preview into the actions he would not live to see for him to address her as such. G'ny recounted her affair with B'ran, her tensions with Allika, and her newfound responsibilities as the Weyrwoman. They stayed up the better part of the night exchanging stories. They also spoke of a future about T'mir could only postulate.
"I always knew you had it in you. M'tou too. He and I discussed it to great lengths after we first met you. I can imagine he is very pleased, and proud, of how this has all turned out." T'mir recounted. "He will be a good Weyrleader and partner to you. Although he has never had reason to cultivate it, I have seen his devotion to you budding below the surface." At T'mir's insistence, Genny took a small nap to ensure she would be fresh in the morning. He also rationed the amount she of wine she imbibed, encouraging herbal tea and water on her.
"For us, it matters not if we imagine our destinations correctly – in fact, that's the point! But for you, you need to make sure you will have your wits about you." He cautioned, ever the bearer of wisdom.
As the first rays of dawn appeared, Moura approached Genny. "You have a great jump to make as well," she noted. "With the loss of everyone else, no one will notice one extra rider's disappearance. And, although I know you've figured it out by now, I remember a certain crisp night well. Azirith will pass it on to Saleneth, just for extra comfort." A thought suddenly dawned on Genny.
"This is how no one suspected you jumped too." She blurted out incredulously.
"Indeed. Like you, I have already seen what is to become of this Weyr. The goldrider you all will know going forward from this point is but an earlier version of a long retired soul. You and I shall stay out of sight so that no one has reason to think any more depart than they see." Moura advised.
The twenty two Oldies who would be conspicuously departing Pern together rose in the formation of a fighting wing. Genny and Moura glided to a spot nestled at the base of one of the Seven Spindles, beyond the view of the Bowl but from where they could face and signal their counterparts. The first bleary eyed riders stumbling out to their weyr ledges or down to the Kitchens would see an array of dragonriders rising in the blinding glory of the first rays of dawn. Although they had different destinations, it was important that Genny stayed on tempo with the other dragons. Another sixteen Turns to go. Despite the closure this past evening had given her, she was still nervous about the long journey ahead of her. Again, she pictured the image she had memorized. Moura looked over reassuringly and had Azirith relay a message just as she gave the signal to take the plunge, leaving a message trailing in Genny's mind. We believe in youuuu.
The cold of between lasted longer than any trip the pair had taken before, making the between of their first time-hop seem short. What would have been an easy glide without the complications of time travel left Genny and Saleneth exhausted as they traveled the distance between their hidden position by one of the Seven Spindles, the Weyrwoman's weyr, and sixteen Turns. Genny gasped as they emerged, gratefully taking deep gulps of the fresh night air before they closed the distance to the Weyrwoman weyr.
"Moura?" G'ny inquired as Saleneth alighted on the ledge under a much younger Azirith's watchful eye.
"Yes, who are you?" G'ny's heart fell as she realized that just as she and this woman had approached an understanding of each other, it was ripped away, to be start over again. How many times had this cycle gone on? G'ny was uncertain how to begin. Great sadness dawned on G'ny: this was likely the last time G'ny would meet the other woman, yet this was the first time that encounter would be taking place for her.
"I'm G'ny, rider of green-gold Saleneth. And I need your assistance. I don't know how to explain this, but... Saleneth, could you help?" Through the telepathic bond of their dragons, the two women tried to make sense of the advanced form of communication that the dragons usually simplified for the ease of the comprehension powers of their human counterparts. Although many people questioned the memories of the creatures, the vivid depictions the two budding Weyrwomen witnessed told another story. The depictions were more than a collection of images, they evoked the feelings of the moment as well, as though the viewer were there, really experiencing it. G'ny's first day in the Weyr, sparkling with awe and excitement, Moura greeting her with Azirith guarding her eggs in the Hatching Ground beyond.
"Those are the High Reaches Hatching Grounds. And that's me. And that's you. But you are much younger, and dragonless?" Moura eyed Saleneth who was perched on the ledge next to Azirith. These were G'ny's memories, she realized, which Saleneth was able to mine. Saleneth was still inside one of those coveted eggs, blind to the world when this happened.
Next, the memory of Moura and Azirith calming the Weyrlings after R'nan's prank. Then, the rare, hungry glimpses G'ny occasionally got as the Weyrwoman grew more distant. A fleeting glance as she passed the Records Room, an errand dispatched or a polite word exchanged when they crossed paths in the interior halls. Then the scene shifted to the day G'ny returned from Igen. The comforting efficiency was gone, so was the presence of the Weyrwoman. A deriding, demeaning Allika interrogated every scene while misery hung in the air.
"What comes next, you will hardly believe." G'ny warned. The image was of Moura striding in with Saleneth and a clutch on the Sands. Next, the soundless replay of Moura making her coup d'stat speech, the exact words just beyond G'ny's recall, but the inspiration they evoked was just as forceful as when they were first spoken.
The two women sat in silence for awhile before Moura spoke. "You really think we can pull this off?"
"I know it because we have." G'ny replied.
"Wow, it's hard to imagine that I could be that person you showed. This leadership thing is so new to me right now, it's hard to think I will make anything but a mess out of it."
"Nonsense, everyone will love and respect you and be disappointed only that they can't see more of you. Where you've been – or where you were? Where you will be?" G'ny struggled to capture the appropriate tense - "...all this time, I don't know if I'll ever understand, but perhaps this is how it all starts." The women stayed up a bit later discussing the plan to leap into Moura's future and G'ny's past. They would be separate leaps. G'ny tried to answer the Weyrwoman's questions and give her assurances as best she could as they prepared. Of course, safety and secrecy were the top priorities. Genny did not speak of her recent farewell to the Weyrwoman or the allusions she had made. At last, the women had their scheme finalized.
"Well, there's no time like the present!" Moura announced. "Why don't I make the jump tonight. You rest up since you said it's a tiring process. I should be able to 'time it' - that's what you're calling it? - so that I catch you just before you are off."
"Sounds like a plan. Let's call it just before dawn tomorrow when I'll see you." Indeed, traveling between times was exhausting. No sooner had G'ny waved Moura off than she sank into the furs of the queenrider's weyr and fell fast asleep. It felt like she had just closed her eyes when Genny awoke to Moura's gentle shaking.
"It's done. You are all set. I never did answer your question about exactly to where I would be traveling between, just like you said I left you hanging. But of course I'll be here, waiting to watch you arrive and Impress Saleneth, all the while tending the Weyr. It's a shame that you say we were never able to work closely before, but then again, you are such a baby!" The earlier born woman teased her and the two, similarly aged for the moment, embraced. With a sinking heart, G'ny realized this would be the last opportunity she would have with this figure with whose history her own was so intertwined. She was coming to terms with the infinite loop of goodbyes – that the most final one had already been uttered, and this lively, wide-eyed seed of the Moura she knew was not the figure onto which she could hold. Before the Weyr would stir and notice the splotchy green-gold dragon depart from the Queen's weyr, G'ny and Saleneth leapt to blink between.
Weyrwoman, weyrwoman, of High Reaches
Who in troubled times, Pern beseeches
You turn away, you appear cold,
Only to save beloved Weyr and Hold