Furthermore, the Harper went on, the Masterharper of Pern has no opinion, one way or another, about the Red Star not even a verse. Because that that childs miggsy scares him juiceless and makes him yearn for some of that Benden wine, right now, in limitless quantity. Robinton had not the slightest trace of laughter in his voice now. Im too steeped in the history and lore of our beloved Pern, Ive sung too many ballads about the evil of the Red Star to want to get any closer to it. Even that and he pointed to the distance-viewer, brings it far too near me. But the men who have to fight Thread day after day, Turn after Turn, can look upon it with less fearfulness than the poor Harper. And, Meron, Lord Holder of Nabol, you can wager every field and cot and hall upon your lands that the dragonmen of every Weyr would like to be quit of any obligation to keep your hide Threadfree even if it means wiping Thread from every squared length of that Star. The vehemence in the Harpers voice caused Meron to take a backward step, to clap a hand on the violently agitated fire lizard. How can a you, any of you, and the Harpers opprobrium fell equally now on the other four Lords, doubt that the Dragonriders wouldnt be as relieved as you to see the end of their centuries of dedication to your safety. They dont have to defend you from Thread. You, Groghe, Sangel, Nessel, Oterel, you all ought to realize that by now. Youve had Tkul to deal with, and Tron.
You all know what Thread does to a man. And you know what happens when a dragon dies. Or must I remind you of that, too? Do you honestly believe that the Dragonriders wish to prolong such conditions, such occurrences? What do they get out of it? Not much! Not much! Are the scores they suffer worth a few bags of grain, or a blade from the Smiths? Is a dragons death truly recompensed by a length of goods or a scrawny herdbeast?
And if there have been instruments for man with his puny eyes to view that bauble in the sky, why do we still have Thread? If its just a question of finding coordinates and taking that jump? Could it be that it has been tried by Dragonriders before? And they failed because those gray masses we see so clearly are not water, or land, but uncountable Threads, seething and writhing, until the topmost can, by some mysterious agency, win free to plague us? Could it be because, although there are clouds, they do not consist of water vapor as Perns clouds, but something deadly, far more inimical to us than Thread? How do we know we will not find the bones of long-lost dragons and riders in the dark blots of the planet? There is so much we do not know that, yes, I think it wiser that we keep this distance between us. But I think the time for wisdom is now past and we must rely on the folly of the brave and hope that it will suffice them and us. For I do believe, and the Harper turned slowly toward Lessa, though my heart is heavy and I am scared soulless, that the dragonmen of Pern will go to the Red Star.
That is Flars intention, Lessa said in a strong, ringing voice, her head high, her shoulders straight. Unlike the Harper, she could not admit her fear, even to herself.
Aye, rumbled Fandarel, nodding his great head slowly up and down, for he has enjoined me and Wansor to make many observations on the Red Star so that an expedition can be sent as soon as possible.
And how long must we wait until this expedition takes place? Meron asked, as if the Harpers words had never been spoken.
Come now, man, how can you expect any one to give a date a time? asked Groghe.
Ah, but Benden Weyr is so adept at giving times and dates and patterns, is it not? Meron replied so unctuously that Lessa wanted to scratch his face.