54
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
“They are very ill, Lord Ratoshigan.”
“They seemed well enough when I left for Ista! They’re not wasted or scored.” Ratoshigan rocked from heel to toe, a thin man with a long thin, bony face, pinched nostrils above a thin, pinch-lipped mouth and hard small eyes in dry sockets. Capiam thought the Lord Holder looked considerably more unwell than the men dying in the
infirmary beds. “Two have died of whatever it is that afflicts them,” Capiam said
slowly, reluctant to utter the terrifying conclusion that he had
reached before exhaustion had overcome him. “Dead? Two? And you don’t know what ailed them?” Out of the comer of his eye, Capiam noticed that Sh’gall had
stepped back from the doorway at the mention of death. The
Weyrleader was not a man who tolerated injury or illness, having
managed to avoid both.
“No, I don’t know precisely what ails them. The symptomsa fever, headache, lack of appetite, the dry hacking coughare unusually severe and do not respond to any of the commonly effective
treatments.”
“But you must know. You are the Masterhealeri” “Rank does not confer total knowledge of my Craft.” Capiam had been keeping his voice low, out of deference to the exhausted healers sleeping in the next room, but Ratoshigan exercised no such courtesy and his voice had been rising with his sense of indignation. Capiam rose and walked around the table, Ratoshigan giving way before him, backing out into the close night. “There is much we have forgotten through disuse.” Capiam sighed, filled with a weary despair. He ought not to have allowed himself to sleep. There was so much to be done. “These deaths are but the beginning, Lord Ratoshigan. An
epidemic is loose on Pem.” “Is that why you and Talpan had that animal killed?” Sh’gall
spoke for the first time, angry surprise in his voice.
“Epidemic?” Ratoshigan waved Sh’gall to silence. “Epidemic! What are you saying, man? Just a few sick”
“Not a few, Lord Ratoshigan.” Capiam pulled his shoulders back and leaned against the cool stucco wall behind him. “Two days ago I was urgently called to Igen Sea Hold. Forty were dead, including three of the sailors who had rescued that animal from the sea. Far better that they had left it on its tree trunk!”
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern 55
“Forty dead?” Ratoshigan was incredulous, and Sh’gall stepped farther back from the infirmary.
“More are falling ill at the Sea Hold and in the nearby mountain hold whose men had come down to see the incredible seagoing fe-line!”
“Then why was it brought to Ista Gather?” The Lord Holder was
outraged now.
“To be seen,” Capiam said bitterly. “Before the illnesses started, it was taken from the Sea Hold to Keroon for the Herdmaster to identify. I was doing what I could to assist the Sea Hold healers when a drum message summoned me to Keroon. Herdmaster Sufur had peo-ple and animals sickening rapidly and curiously. The illness followed the same course as that at Igen Sea Hold. Another drum message, and I was conveyed by brown dragon to Telgar. The sickness is there, too, brought back from Keroon by two holders who were buying runnerstock. All the beasts were dead, and so were the holders and twenty others. I cannot estimate how many hundreds of people have been infected by the merest contact with those so contagious. Those of us who live to tell the Harper will thank Talpan’s quick wits”Capiam looked severely at Sh’gall“that he linked the journey of the feline to the spread of the disease.”
“But that animal was the picture of health!” Sh’gall protested.
“It was.” Capiam spoke with dry humor. “It seemed immune to the disease it brought to Igen, Keroon, Telgar, and Ista!”
Sh’gall defensively crossed his arms over his chest.
“How could a caged animal spread disease?” Ratoshigan demanded, his thin nostrils flaring.
“It wasn’t caged at Igen, nor on the ship when it was weak from thirst and its voyage. At Keroon, Master Sufur kept it in a run when he was trying to identify it. It had ample opportunity to infect people and plenty of time.” Capiam despaired as he thought of how much time and opportunity. The healers would never be able to trace all the people who had seen the rarity, touched its tawny coat, and returned to their holds, incubating the disease.