Lessa told me about Lord Groghes demand, Fnor said, to give himself time to absorb his brothers remarkable and logical questions.
It isnt just that we couldnt see the Star to find coordinates, Flar went on urgently. The Ancients had the equipment. They preserved it carefully, though not even Fandarel can guess how. They preserved it for us, perhaps? For a time when wed know how to overcome the last obstacle?
Which is the last obstacle? Fnor demanded, sarcastically, thinking of nine or ten off hand.
Therere enough, I know. And Flar ticked them off on his fingers. Protection of Pern while all the Weyrs are away which might well mean the grubs on the land and a well organized ground crew to take care of homes and people. Dragons big enough, intelligent enough to aid us. Youve noticed yourself that our dragons are both bigger and smarter than those four hundred Turns older. If the dragons were bred for this purpose from creatures like Grall, they didnt grow to present size in the course of just a few Hatchings. Any more than the Masterherdsman could breed those long-staying long-legged runners hes finally developed, its a project that I understand started about four hundred Turns ago Gnarish says they didnt have them in the Oldtime.
There was an undercurrent to Flars voice, Fnor suddenly realized. The man was not as certain of this outrageous notion as he sounded. And yet, wasnt the recognized goal of dragonmen the complete extermination of all Thread from the skies of Pern? Or was it? There wasnt a line of the Teaching Ballads and Sagas that even suggested more than that the dragonmen prepare and guard Pern when the Red Star passed. Nothing hinted at a time when there would be no Thread to fight.
Isnt it just possible that we, now, are the culmination of thousands of Turns of careful planning and development? Flar was suggesting urgently. Look, dont all the facts corroborate? The large population in support, the ingenuity of Fandarel, the discovery of those rooms and the devices, the grubs everything …
Except one, Fnor said slowly, hating himself.
Which? All the warmth and fervor drained out of Flar and that single word came in a cold, harsh voice.
Son of my father, began Fnor, taking a deep breath, if dragonmen clear the Star of Thread, what further purpose is there for them?
Flar, his face white and set with disappointment, drew himself to his feet.
Well, I assume youve an answer to that, too, Fnor went on, unable to bear the disillusion in his half-brothers scornful regard. Now wheres that long-handled hearthpan Im supposed to catch Thread in?
When they had thoroughly discussed and rejected every other possible method of securing Thread, and how they were to keep this project a secret only Lessa and Ramoth knew of it they parted, both assuring the other that hed eat and rest. Both certain that the other could not.
If Fnor appreciated the audacity of Flars project, he also counted up the flaws and the possible disasters. And then he realized that he still hadnt had a chance to broach the innovation he himself desired to make. Yet, for a brown dragon to fly a queen was far less revolutionary than Flar wanting to terminate the Weyrs duties. And, reinforced by one of Flars own theories, if the dragons were now big enough for their ultimate breeding purpose, then no harm was done the species if a brown, smaller than a bronze, was mated to a queen just this once. Surely Fnor deserved that compensation. Comforted that it would be merely an exchange of favors, rather than the gross crime it might once have been considered, Fnor went to borrow the long-handled hearthpan from one of Manoras helpers.
Someone, probably Manora, had cleaned his weyr during his absence at Southern. Fnor was grateful for the fresh, supple skins on the bed, the clean, mended clothes in his chest, the waxed wood of table and chairs. Canth grumbled that someone had swept the sandy accumulation from his weyr-couch and he had nothing to scour his belly hide with now.
Fnor dutifully sympathized as he lay back on the silky furs of his bed. The scar on his arm itched a little and he rubbed it.