Dragonsblood (56 page)

“The combination of the three strands makes it harder for PNA to be split,”

Wind Blossom said.

“Wouldn’t that be bad?” Emorra asked. “As I recall, whenever genetic

material is accessed, the strands are separated and a segment is copied.”

“That’s not exact,” Wind Blossom replied chillingly. “But it is sufficient for

our current discussion.” She waved for Tieran to continue. Stifling an

impulse to argue with her, he turned back to Emorra.

“The fact that Pernese genetic material—”

“Didn’t you say to call it PNA?” Emorra interjected.

“—PNA, then, is harder to separate means that mutations in the PNA are

less likely than in terrestrial DNA,” Tieran said. He looked at Wind Blossom

and asked, “Is that why you think there haven’t been any illnesses?

Because PNA is so much less prone to mutations than DNA?”

“It is just as prone,” Wind Blossom corrected. “However, the rate is

slower.”

Tieran waved away the correction as meaningless.

“There is a big difference,” Wind Blossom persisted. “It means that over

time, PNA will have mutations.”

“It still means that in the same period of time there will be more mutations in

DNA than in PNA,” Emorra said, coming to Tieran’s defense.

“That’s not all,” Tieran said. “The very resistance to change means that

PNA is less able to deal with unwanted mutations.”

“Oh, I think PNA deals with mutations quite admirably,” Wind Blossom said

dryly.

Emorra looked to Tieran for enlightenment.

He shrugged. “She means that most mutations will be fatal immediately.”

“And PNA is the same for everything Pernese?” Emorra asked. At Tieran’s

nod, she mused, “So whatever is affecting the fire-lizards and dragons in

the future could be as simple as a symbiont that’s mutated into a parasite?”

“It could be,” Wind Blossom agreed.

“But how does that alter our problem?” Emorra asked. “Regardless of the

origin, we have to teach our descendants how to effect a cure.”

“And you will undertake to teach our distant descendants how to use the

mapper?” Wind Blossom asked.

“Of course,” Emorra said. “But I’ll need Tieran.”

“
I
shall need Tieran,” Wind Blossom countered.

“We’ll share,” Emorra said as a compromise.

“Agreed,” Wind Blossom said, with a faint triumphant light in her dark eyes.

Tieran looked from mother to daughter and back again and, wisely, kept his

silence.

Tieran and Emorra stood on either side of a blackboard with identical

expressions. They had managed to fill the blackboard twice with just the

highlights of the materials they had to cover.

“If this were a lecture, how long do you think it would take?” Emorra asked

Tieran.

The young man frowned thoughtfully before shaking his head. “I don’t know.

Perhaps more important is how long they can afford to sit still just learning.”

“What, are you afraid that they’ll race ahead and start using the materials

before they properly know how?”

“Wouldn’t you, in their situation?” Tieran asked.

“We’ll have to come up with a way to slow them down, then,” Emorra said.

“Some sort of test, a hurdle they have to pass before they can move on.”

Tieran pursed his lips thoughtfully. Before he could reply, the door to the

classroom burst open. It was Carelly.

“Come quickly, Wind Blossom needs you!”

The two exchanged alarmed looks and raced out the door to follow.

Upstairs, they found Wind Blossom lying in bed. Never before had they

seen her looking so pale, so feeble.

“What is it, Mother?” Emorra asked, grabbing a chair and looking down

worriedly.

“We have failed,” Wind Blossom said. “The gene mappers cannot store all

the data.”

“What?” Tieran barked in surprise.

“There is too much data,” Wind Blossom repeated. “With all the information

on the various immune codings, there is at least three times more data than

the mapper can store.”

“So we eliminate some,” Emorra suggested, matter-of-factly.

“What if we eliminate the wrong data?” Tieran asked her, shaking his head.

“So, we don’t,” Emorra replied.

“And how can we do that?” Tieran demanded. “Are they just supposed to

tell us what they need?”

Emorra’s eyes widened as she absorbed Tieran’s words.

“Yes,” she said. “And that will be the key to opening the second door in the

classrooms.”

TWENTY-TWO

Harper, teach.

Miner, mine.

Smith, forge.

Healer, cure.

Dragonrider, protect them all.

Benden Weyr, Third Pass, 26th Day, AL 508

Kindan smiled at Lorana as she paused at the bottom of the stairs leading

to the Oldtimer Rooms.

“It’s all right,” he told her. “I’ve been in them.” She cocked an eyebrow at

him. “And I touched nothing.”

“We should get Ketan,” she said.

“Right behind you!” Ketan called out, clattering down the stairs to join them.

He and the weyrlings—now grown dragons and riders—had returned the

day before, exhausted. Of the lot, the weyrfolk without dragons had fared

best, Ketan included. “I saw you headed this way.”

Reassured, Lorana moved in front of Kindan and was the first in the room.

The sound of a disembodied voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Welcome,” it said. “I am Wind Blossom. If you have come to these rooms

for an emergency involving the dragons, then please step inside. If not,

please leave immediately.”

Eyes glowing, Lorana turned back to the other two, who stood poised in the

doorway.

“She said her name was Wind Blossom,” Lorana called, gesturing excitedly

for the others to enter.

“The song was right,” Kindan whispered, entering the room and peering

cautiously around, as though afraid that his gaze might damage some

unknown treasure.

“Indeed it was,” Ketan agreed, pointing to the far wall. There was a door

outlined, but no sign of a square plate with which to open it. Instead, written

on the door in strange paint was:

“That word is what you now must say

To open up the door

In Benden Weyr, to find the way

To all my healing lore.”

The voice changed to another’s. “I am Emorra, Wind Blossom’s daughter.

Please, if you have come here to learn how to conquer the dragons’ illness,

go to the first cabinet labeled ‘A’ and take the booklets there—one copy for

each of you.” The voice paused. “When you have done that, please take

one of the chairs and we will continue.”

Lorana gave Kindan a nervous look, but he nodded firmly to her and the

cabinet.

“Apparently we are to be schooled,” Ketan surmised as Lorana passed a

booklet to him. He glanced at it. “This may take a while.”

“Then the sooner we start, the better,” Lorana declared, seating herself.

Before she could open the booklet, footsteps on the stairs outside caught

her attention.

“May we join you?” M’tal asked, as he and Salina appeared in the doorway.

Lorana, Kindan, and Ketan exchanged looks. “I don’t see why not,” Lorana

replied.

“The more help, the better,” Ketan agreed.

“Excellent,” M’tal replied, nodding his head in thanks. “And Kiyary has

promised to bring down refreshments in two hours.”

Ketan smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. Neither, from their

sheepish looks, had Kindan or Lorana.

“There are booklets in that cabinet behind us,” Lorana said, gesturing. “We

were just getting started.”

“It was the most amazing thing,” Ketan added. “When we first entered, the

voice of Wind Blossom herself greeted us.”

M’tal and Salina looked both surprised—and somewhat disappointed at

having missed it.

“When everyone is ready,” the voice of Emorra spoke from the ceiling

above them, “please have someone close the door. Instructions will be

played while the door is closed and everyone is seated. If you wish to take

a break, simply either all stand, or have someone open the door. The

instructions will resume from where they left off when the door is again

closed and people are seated.

“Please note that there is no way to know how many of you are present, so

if one of you must leave, be sure to leave the door open until that person

returns, or she will miss parts of the instruction.” There was a pause. “Now,

the first thing to do is to read the first chapter of the booklet. If you have

problems reading the text, you will have to see if you can locate someone

who can read it for you. If you
do
have such problems, please leave the

room immediately. The power required to light this room and provide my

voice is limited and will eventually fail.

“At the end of the first chapter you will find instructions on how to indicate

that you have finished the first chapter and understand it.”

Kindan’s furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “That will be some trick,” he

said.

“You may start reading whenever you are ready,” Emorra’s voice said.

“Please do not stand on courtesy, as I am not present—this is merely a

recording of my voice.”

All five of them exchanged astonished looks, and Ketan mouthed the word

“recording” to himself, trying to grasp the full flavor of its meaning. But

Lorana was less interested in the Oldtimer skills than she was in finding a

cure for the dragons. Avidly, she opened the booklet and began to read.

“The dragons and watch-whers of Pern are modifications of the indigenous

fire-lizards,” the booklet began. “It was possible to make the much larger

dragons and watch-whers from the fire-lizards because all living things

contain a set of instructions telling the creature how and what to grow to

make a complete living being.

“These instructions are embodied in a genetic code,” the booklet

continued. Lorana leaned forward and immersed herself in the wonders of

genetic codes.

An hour later, she got up from her seat, stretched, and walked to the

cabinets. She opened the one marked B, pulled out a tray of equipment,

and returned to her seat.

“What are you doing?” Kindan asked, looking up from his book.

“Well, I’m ready to start the first experiment,” she explained. “You know, the

one at the end of chapter two.”

“Chapter two?” Kindan said in astonishment. “You’re already done with

chapter two? I’m still trying to finish chapter one.”

Before Lorana could reply, Ketan piped up, “No, don’t wait up for us,

Lorana. If we don’t catch up soon, maybe you’ll explain it to us.”

Lorana nodded and resumed her seat. Immediately she turned to the

beginning of chapter three and started working with the equipment.

The bulk of the equipment consisted of small colored objects, about the

size of the tip of her thumb. They weren’t quite balls, being planed off and

grooved on four sides—top, bottom, and two sides that met in a

corner—the booklet said that they represented the fundamental genetic

material. The blue object was for the A molecule, the red object

represented a B molecule, the green a C molecule; the purple object

represented a C-prime object, the magenta object was for B-prime, and the

yellow object was for A-prime. There was a seventh object—a beige

one—that represented the N or Null molecule. There was also a pencil and

a tablet of paper, which she was to use to record her answers.

Lorana quickly assembled three of the objects—blue, yellow, and

beige—into a triangle. In short order she had built another triangle—red,

beige, and blue—and carefully slid the two triangles one on top of the other.

With a gentle movement, she twisted the top triangle slightly and felt it lock

into place.

Delighted, she gave a cry of joy, which startled the others. They looked up

at her and then gathered around in wonder.

“What is it?” M’tal asked, eyeing the object eagerly.

“Are you building a sequence?” Ketan asked.

Salina craned her neck to get a better view. “Is it a START sequence or a

STOP sequence?”

“Ahem.” Kindan cleared his throat loudly. “Some of us are still reading.”

“Some of us are
slow,
” someone—it sounded like Ketan—murmured in

response. Kindan reddened and bent his head back over his booklet,

pointedly ignoring them all.

The sound of footsteps outside heralded the arrival of Kiyary and several

others from the Kitchens with refreshments.

“Is it lunchtime already?” Kindan asked in surprise.

“We can eat while we work,” Lorana said, helping Kiyary place a tray on the

workbench in the rear of the room. Kiyary muttered a quick thanks, her eyes

wide as she peered around the room in awe.

“So the Oldtimers made these rooms for us?” Kiyary asked.

“We heard the voice of Wind Blossom,” Ketan told her. “Her mother

created the dragons.”

“And they can help us now?” Kiyary asked.

“That’s the hope,” M’tal said, helping himself to a mug of
klah
and some

sweetrolls.

“And if they can’t?” Tilara asked, crossing the room with another platter.

She set it down beside the one Kiyary had brought. “What then?”

Ketan and Lorana exchanged looks. “We will find a cure,” Lorana told the

older woman firmly. “By ourselves, if necessary.”