All the Weyrs of Pern - Chapter Five

[kalinara]

So last time...well mostly there was talking. This is a very talky book. I'm not complaining, necessarily, because these characters DO have a lot to legitimately talk about. But I am looking forward to a bit more action, eventually.



So we start off with F'lar and Robinton. As usual, Robinton is being fussed over. This time, he's being taken back to Cove Hold to rest, because he's exhausted, and F'lar knows he won't rest with Aivas.

As usual, Robinton's likely alcoholism is played for laughs:

“But what a wonderful way to get tired, F’lar. And every time I turn around, I think of something else I must ask Aivas.” Robinton chuckled. “It’s rather like knowing you have the most fabulous vintage in your glass and being torn between drinking and admiring.”

F’lar shot him an amused look. “That’s apt enough, considering the source.”

It doesn't quite seem fair that Robinton gets to monopolize Aivas with all of his questions when not everyone gets access at all. But well, as much as I hate to admit it, Robinton's an important figure. And bitching about the classism inherent in the setting is pretty old. I suppose it's a good thing really, I'm only bitching about that because none of the characters have done anything particularly horrific yet.

Anyway, F'lar appreciates Robinton's dilemma, but his own is much simpler: don't piss off his wife. Heh, fair enough. Besides, Robinton has an important job to do:

“Which is why we must take care of you all the more—to interpret for us.”

“Interpret? He speaks in plain and simple terms.”

“Not what Aivas says, Robinton, but how our people will see what he offers. For me, and all dragonriders, despite the future effects on Weyrs and dragonkind, I cannot but accept Aivas’s offer to rid us of Thread. But already there are those who are either frightened or feel threatened by what Aivas can tell us, or give us.”

“Yes, similar thoughts had crossed my mind,” Robinton said solemnly, but then he flashed F’lar a roguish grin. “But I also cross them out. The good done us will far outweigh the bad.”

I mean, I guess in theory, I understand why this would be Robinton's job. Though I'm not sure I've seen anything to indicate why Robinton would be more in touch with common folk than F'lar is. Though I suppose he still has those underling Harpers reporting to him.

Anyway, Benden Weyr will be fighting Thread in the morning, but D'ram will take Robinton back to Landing. Robinton shows all the gratitude for this that you'd expect and bitches about D'ram's "milk mother" tendencies. What DOES Ms. McCaffrey have against wet nurses? She had Jaxom be needlessly bitchy to his own as well.

Mnementh adds his own two cents: he's ordered Tiroth to only take Robinton back as long as he's well rested. I'm fascinated by the implication of the dragons having their OWN chain of command separate from their riders. This may be the first actual justification that we have for the Weyr structure being the way it is. If the dragons will only listen to higher ranked dragons, then it makes some sense that their riders would be in charge. Just for appearances' sake, if nothing else.

I'm a little annoyed that it took HOW many books for any indication that dragons give each other orders though.

So D'ram and Lytol are at Cove Hold, waiting for Robinton. Do they live there now? I mean, it seems as good a place as any. They refuse to chat though, and usher him right to bed. We get a rare compliment toward an unlikable character, as Lytol serves Robinton some dosed wine in an elegant, Harper Blue glass.

I'm realizing that I don't actually have a good judge of how old these characters are. Per Masterharper of Pern, which is dubious timeline-wise for other reasons (see my endless rants about poor Sebell), Robinton's a contemporary of F'lar's father. I THINK F'lar himself should probably be in his fifties by now, even with the nudging downward of his age after Dragonflight. So Robinton probably should be in his seventies.

D'ram and Lytol as his cohorts seem to be around the same generational range, but don't get as much fussing from everyone. (We also don't see much, if any, reference to Tiroth being old.) My guess is that they're probably supposed to be in their mid sixties - old men, but still young enough to defer to McCaffrey's favorite.

So Robinton does sleep, and wakes up refreshed. Even his fire lizard fusses. Or rather, he refuses to report on Tiroth and D'ram until Robinton bathes and eats. Apparently fire lizards are interested in swimming humans and like to play with them.

D'ram and Lytol turn out to be waiting on the porch. It's actually past noon, a fact which irritates Robinton. Lytol just says that Robinton's body has more sense than he does. I can believe that. Lytol serves breakfast/lunch and they discuss Aivas.

We lead into a somewhat repetitive bit where Robinton relays what Aivas told them and the reasons that the ancients never rid them of Thread. Lytol has the very good question of why the ancients didn't come back after Thread stopped, but of course, Aivas can't answer that.

Robinton explains Aivas as essentially a musical instrument, or one of Fandarel's machines. He's sophisticated, but can only do what he's designed to do. And while I hate acknowledging common ground with Robinton, I admit to sharing his confusion about which pronoun to use for Aivas. Robinton, like me, ends up settling on "he".

So Lytol gets to be the skeptic, but only mildly, since we like him. D'ram believes Aivas, recognizing the authority he speaks with, and the very precise time frame he gave them.

Robinton suggests that Lytol query Aivas himself, but Lytol, being one of the few characters with a sense of perspective, notes that there are others with greater reasons to consult Aivas. That's admittedly true. Lytol is the best character in the goddamn series, but now that he's retired, he's likely not going to be playing a big role in events shaking out.

...and of course that means he probably WILL be playing a big role. I recognize narrative schemes when I see them.

Anyway, Lytol's not coming along today, much to Robinton's frustration. He takes it personally, of course, though D'ram is wiser:

“The last of the true skeptics,” Robinton muttered under his breath, somewhat disturbed by Lytol’s continued disbelief. Did Lytol think old age had dulled Robinton’s wits or discriminatory faculties? Or did he believe, like Corman, that the Harper was gullible enough to be taken in by any plausible story?

“No,” D’ram assured him when he voiced the question to the old Weyrleader as they walked toward bronze Tiroth, waiting for them on the strand. “He’s too pragmatic. He told me yesterday that we were far too excited to think logically about the repercussions Aivas will have on our lives. Altering the basic structure of our society and its values and all that twaddle.” D’ram’s snort indicated that he did not agree. “He’s been through several upheavals himself. He’s unlikely to welcome another.”

I mean, it's probably good to have a few people who are skeptical of Aivas's claims. And well, Lytol's whole life is a trauma conga line of terrible things, so he's not very inclined to optimism. It's not all about you, Rob.

As for D'ram himself: he's a dragonrider, and if there's even the slightest hope of eradicating Thread, he wants it to be true. And you know, it's a shame that the hardcore Oldtimers have all died off by now, because it would have been really interesting to see T'ron and Mardra's reaction.

I mean, it's McCaffrey, so she'd probably just have them be arbitrarily wrong because we're supposed to dislike them. But still.

So they get to Landing to find it changed. Tiroth (who speaks so Robinton can hear him too), seems disgruntled.

Robinton hid his own reaction behind a quick smile of reassurance. Obviously, Lytol was in the minority, to judge by the changes here: all designed to facilitate access to Aivas. The original wing had been tripled in size, with odd lean-to sheds, like skirts, along all three sides. As the Harper dismounted, he recognized more of Fandarel’s batteries housed under the sheds—sufficient power, he assumed, to sustain the entity all the hours of the day and night until the new and more powerful water-turbines were finished.

In the broad new courtyard, several knots of folk were arguing vociferously with each other while, above their heads, fire-lizards made raucous sounds of agitation. Most of the people wore the shoulder knots of Masters and journeymen from various Crafts; their tunic devices told Robinton that they came from different Holds, as well.

So yeah, these are all disgruntled folk who've been sent by their lords and superiors to find out what's going on. And...I mean, they seem to have a point? Obviously, space is limited, but the favored Lords have already had a chance to go in.

(Miscellaneous note, one of the representatives is from Deckter of Nabol. Funny that, even though Robinton was willing to torture a man to put Deckter in his seat of power, Deckter's not one of the pet Lords.)

Robinton schmoozes, reminding them of the lack of space, and saying that even he's only just been allowed to return. The fact that "the much respected Harper of Pern"- and it STILL annoys me that McCaffrey calls him that. He's the MASTERharper. There are other regular harpers and they should fucking count - hasn't been allowed back mollifies them some. He promises to take their "quite legitimate" requests to see Aivas inside.

Oh, okay, we're getting the superstitious masses element here.

“I don’t want to just see it,” the miner complained. “I want it to tell me how to get back to the main lode of a very rich vein of ore. The ancients located all the ores on Pern. I want it to tell me where to dig, since it knows everything about Pern.”

“Not everything, my dear fellow,” Robinton said, less than surprised that Aivas was already being considered an omniscient being. Should he emphasize that Aivas was only—only? he thought bemusedly—a machine, a device that had served their ancestors as the receptacle of information? No, their understanding of machinery, craftsmen though many of them were, was too rudimentary. They would not grasp the concept of so complex a mechanical apparatus, let alone the concept of an artificial intelligence. The Masterharper didn’t understand that all too well himself. He sighed with resignation. “And he knows very little about Pern as it is today, though a great deal about Pern as it was twenty-five hundred Turns ago. I suppose none of you heard that you were supposed to bring Hall Records with you? Aivas particularly wants to bring himself up to current times with every Hall, Hold, and Weyr.”

I mean, why is Robinton able to process the concept of Aivas as a mechanical device better than a miner? Why not just have everybody listen to the same explanation Aivas gave everyone else. EVERYONE in this setting is a newbie to the concept of advanced technology, after all!

But see, we need the unwashed masses represented:

“No one said anything about Records,” the miner said, taken aback. “We heard it knew everything.”

“Aivas will be the first to inform you that while his knowledge extends to many subjects and skills, he is not, happily, all-knowing. He is . . . a talking Record, and far more accurate than ours, which tunnel snakes, time, and other perils have rendered illegible.”

“We was told he knew everything!” the miner insisted stubbornly.

I'm not opposed to the idea that some folk can't wrap their brain around what Aivas is. But I find it awfully convenient that every lead character so far is fine with the concept. Even though, really, there's NO reason that Jaxom should have a better grasp of how technology works than a miner, who likely uses some kind of mechanical device in the practice of mining.

Anyway, Robinton does acknowledge that these people have as much right to meet Aivas as any of the Lords, so he has D'ram choose by lots. Esselin is somewhat appalled, but Robinton rightly points out that these are the people who are likely going to be carrying out Aivas's grand work.

Right now, Aivas is actually talking to useful people: Master Terry and lots of Smiths. Also Master Hamian from Southern Hold.

This lets us take a potshot at Toric:

“Ah, Toric’s finally sent an emissary?” Robinton wasn’t sure if the news pleased or worried him. He had rather hoped not to have to contend with Toric’s avarice yet.

I really don't understand what McCaffrey has against the guy. Whatever mental image she has of the character really doesn't match what she's actually written in these books. Yes, he has a very large territory. Which he obtained, at least in part, because he went back in time with F'nor and the others in Dragonflight - a miserable experience all around. And then he held his territory, even when F'lar planted all the recalcitrant Oldtimers in the Weyr. He's thus had no real dragonriding/Threadfighting help for years.

Why is Toric considered greedy, when the Northern Lord Holders who just send their second sons out to claim land aren't?

Also, Toric HELPED find a lot of this shit in White Dragon!

Anyway, Hamian's not actually here for Toric, of course. Sharra had sent word instead. Because Toric is bad and Sharra is good.

“And so he should. So he should,” Robinton agreed affably. Hamian would be an excellent man to have involved here. A clever innovator who had already put back to use what the ancients had left behind in a Southern mine. “I’ll just see when it’s convenient to interrupt them for a few moments. Believe me, Esselin, it’s the better part of discretion to give those fellows out there the chance to see Aivas for themselves.”

So. Hamian repairs mining tools. Who actually uses them? Just wondering.

ANYWAY. Esselin is of course classist and belligerant:

“But they’re only Stewards and small miners . . .”

“There are more of those than of Lord Holders and Crafthallmasters and Weyrleaders, Esselin, and every single one of them has the right to approach Aivas.”

“That wasn’t what I was told,” Master Esselin said, resorting to his usual obstructive attitude, thrusting his heavy chin belligerently forward.

Robinton eyed him pityingly for such a long moment that even the thick-skinned Esselin could not fail to notice that his behavior was unacceptable to the Harper.

So, I can't help but notice that the token classist asshole here is the craftsmaster that's been basically deemed irrelevant all along. Despite apparently being quite adept administratively. He's been treated regularly as a nuisance and an irritant. He's blatantly wrong here, but it's not like anyone in charge of the place had made a point of including normal people. Something I'd bitched about in earlier chapters.

I'm glad Robinton is speaking up here. He's right. But it still feels like the usual McCaffrey social dynamic. Good characters are right. Bad characters are wrong.

I also note the faint hypocrisy: Robinton seems to think Esselin should care about his disapproval. But why?

(The funny part is, this is the one time when I think NOT interrupting Aivas might be the better option. After all, the Smiths and craftspeople are going to be doing important work. Whereas earlier, when Aivas was meeting with the Lord Holders - that seemed like a better meeting to crash and curtail.)

Anyway, Robinton goes in. The room's been expanded into annexes on either side. Everyone's copying diagrams and listening raptly. There's a Masterminer in here, so McCaffrey wasn't dismissing all miners with that one idiot before. They're asking a lot of technical questions.

Aivas eventually does acknowledge Robinton pleasantly. He doesn't want to interrupt of course, but conveniently all the craftsmen have social awareness and start filing out with their drawings and notes. Jancis sticks around and Robinton banters a bit with her.

Apparently there are some plans for Jancis and Piemur to have a "formal announcement", which seems a bit quick, but they've hit it off well, and they're far less obnoxious than most other pairings, so I'm on board.

Anyway, Robinton does bring up the folks outside, and still manages to insult most of humanity:

“That’s about the size of it. Aivas, if you would agree, I shall waft them in and out, with just time enough to say that they’ve been here.”

“Is that your true wish in this instance?”

Robinton cleared his throat. “I could wish that as many men and women as possible on this planet could be exposed to your fund of knowledge, but even with these enlarged accommodations, that is neither possible nor wise. The parochially minded tend to flog petty issues to a nubbin. The worried assume their problems are uniquely threatening, or that you are omniscient enough to solve any problem put to you.”

He's probably not wrong, but I find him irritating nonetheless. Anyway, Aivas is unbothered, noting that mankind has always put great faith in Oracles. He then promises that he'll give a full explanation of the concept once Robinton has forty-four hours free, as the file on religion is apparently lengthy.

So Aivas allows the people in and greets them in a pretty nice way, even noting some of their individual concerns and suggests that if there are ways that he can help their crafthalls, they can ask Robinton for an appointment.

Most just gawk, of course, but as it turns out a few of the attendees actually have legitimate questions. An Ista glass-smith who was asked to help construct a microscope lens, for example, only has some really moldy, hard to read Records to work with. Aivas basically plays photocopier and photoshop, restoring the diagrams and printing them out for the now pretty much incoherent craftsman.

The whole meeting, we're told, takes about ten minutes, and Aivas recommends again if they have questions, they should contact Robinton, who's finally noticed that he's been conscripted as an assistant.

The logic is sound, though it does lead to some shilling:

“Your impartiality is legend, Master Robinton, and your scrupulous sense of fair play has just been demonstrated. Master Esselin’s definition of priority is noticeably skewed toward rank. The glass-smith’s need of stored information was indeed a priority that ought to have been immediately scheduled when he arrived early this morning. Master Esselin ignored him.”

“He did?” Robinton was annoyed.

“If you will see to it that he does not exceed his very limited authority, considerable future ill-feeling will be avoided.”

Of course.

You know, Robinton is a lot of things, both good and bad. But I would never call him impartial. He was basically a partisan of F'lar's from day one. (Because of course, he must always be right.) And he's always pretty clearly favored some characters over others. (Remember how clashing with Menolly got a girl kicked out of Harper Hall before she could even plead her case?)

Aivas notes that D'ram might also be willing to help, and even asks if D'ram really came forward four hundred turns to keep fighting Thread. And thank you, Aivas, it's been a long time since we were actually allowed to admire the Oldtimers for this choice.

Aivas really admires both this generation and D'ram's as well. And now empowered, Robinton goes to tell off Esselin. Then he goes off to Piemur and company where everyone rants about how stupid and sexist Esselin is.

(Apparently he treats Jancis like a kitchen drudge, and of course, Jaxom let him have it.) This leads to Esselin being banished back to his archives, and D'ram appointing himself to take over his duties too.

Everyone cheers. Really. And Robinton suggests they rope poor Lytol in it too. So I suppose Lytol's period of skepticism will be at an end soon enough.

Hamian pops in, hoping that Aivas can tell him how they made durable plastics. Everyone is on board with this project, so they decide to go ask him. Basically, we're told, that while most of Hamian's peers are into refining iron, steel, brass and copper, Hamian's really into the idea of specializing in plastic.

Aivas seems on board with the idea, and namedrops Joel Lilienkamp as having preserved some of the manufacturing devices in the Caves. Piemur and Jancis are shocked at the familiar name, and realize Jayge must be a descendant.

So Aivas gives Hamian his homework assignment. Piemur asks him how he escaped Toric, and I appreciate how Hamian actually gets to answer without slagging off his brother:

“Escape doesn’t enter into this, Piemur.” Again Hamian said with a droll grimace, “I’m my own master. I’ve organized Southern’s mines to produce with or without me leaning on anyone. Now I shall broaden my own horizons, as Toric did his. My thanks, Master Robinton, D’ram. I know where the caves are. I’ll start right away.” And he strode purposefully out of the room and down the hall.

You mean, people can have different priorities without it being like an actual issue? Wow.

Esselin comes up to complain about Hamian, because apparently he'd denied him access before. Why? Who knows. Esselin's the guy we don't like. We know this also because of the references to his "fleshy shoulders" and "plump hands".

Anyway, Robinton basically just kind of slight of hands Esselin's job away from him. And yeah, I get that he was doing a bad job and deserved to be fired, this still makes me less than pleased. But to be fair, it's Robinton. And Robinton would probably annoy me if he sat silently eating cheese.

Anyway, D'ram and Robinton are in charge now.

Piemur, by the way, ends up triumphantly shouting because he actually made a program all by himself. (Jancis and Jaxom are a little envious, Benelek is adopting "a distant attitude". I'm side-eyeing, but so far Benelek has been allowed to be competent and got to join in with bitching about Esselin, so right now, he seems to be okay in the eyes of McCaffrey. We'll see.)

So now that D'ram's taken over the first shift of managerial duties, Robinton gets to have some of his own lessons.

We fast forward to night time, when Robinton is dozing.

He rose, silently swearing at the recalcitrance of aging joints that no longer functioned smoothly. As stealthily as he could, he moved across the entrance hall and out into the night. He knew it was near dawn; the insect sounds that had lulled him to sleep on his post had ceased and daytime noises had not yet begun. He crept forward, hearing that soft cracking noise again. To his left, where the banks of Fandarel’s batteries had been installed against the wall, he saw darker shadows. Two men. Two men busily smashing the glass tanks that held the battery fluid.

How did they get in? Is there no security here? Was Esselin competent after all?

Anyway, Robinton confronts them, and I won't bitch about this because even he admits later how ridiculous it was. But adrenaline is adrenaline. The vandals come at him, but he has some very armed fire lizard backup: his Zair, Piemur's Farli, Jancis's Trig and others come to ward off the invaders.

The vandals escape, but not unclawed, by the time the humans arrive. Piemur is, of course, mostly concerned about Robinton who is coughing and panting. The damage isn't enough to jeopardize the power supply thank goodness.

He tries to figure out who might have masterminded the attack. He doesn't think it's Esselin, despite his upset. He wonders if Norist's glassmen had been here. Because of course, it must be the folk we met and disliked. Sadly, the vandals do manage to make their escape. Robinton realizes that they need better security.

Aivas is able to explain why he wasn't alerted:

When queried on that point, Aivas replied that the vandals had been operating under the level of the exterior visuals, and the only sound the audio sensors had picked up had been consistent enough with usual nocturnal activity.

...interesting. How'd they know to do that?

Anyway, with this bit of excitement - which I did ask for, I admit, the chapter ends.