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"Lytol's always been a deep person, with unexpected reserves-or he wouldn't have survived as long as he has," Jaxom replied to those who commented on Lytol's new obsession. "Though I don't understand his fascination with all that dry historical stuff when there's so much more that we can apply to living and working here and now."
"On the contrary, Jaxom," the Harper replied. "Lytol's investigations may be the most significant of all."
"Even more significant than Fandarel's new water-turbine power stations?"
The Mastersmith had taken great satisfaction in demonstrating how a model of the proposed generator worked, as his foundry labored day and night to complete the components of the full-scale machinery.
"That is certainly significant now," the Harper replied, choosing his words carefully. "But there's the problem of general acceptance."
Various study rooms had been set up, each dedicated to a different subject. Two of the larger rooms became laboratories to teach the basic sciences that Aivas felt were required as foundation courses, as he termed them: chemistry, physics, and biology. One room had been set aside for short consultations, and another for general teaching; a fairly large room was set aside for the healers, and its walls covered with various diagrams "of the most gruesome sort," in Jancis's estimation. Aivas also requested that a room be reserved for special students, those who were taking concentrated courses in a variety of subjects: Jaxom, Piemur, Jancis, K'van, T'gellan, N'ton, Mirrim, Hamian, three journeymen, an apprentice of Hamian's, four other young bronze riders, two brown, four blue, and three green riders. Other riders would follow when there was s.p.a.ce in the cla.s.ses, since the Weyrs were the most eager to take advantage of Aivas.
Occasionally Robinton liked to walk down the hall and listen in on the instructions. One day when he peered in on a lesson including Jaxom, Piemur, Jancis, and two Smithcraft Journeymen, he saw an astonishing sight.
A ring of dull metal hovered about two inches above the high worktop in front of them. As they reached forward to touch it, it slipped along the bench as if it were on invisible rollers. Aivas continued his explanation.
"The lines of magnetic force in the ring are induced in such a way that they exactly oppose the electromagnets that are generating the field."
Robinton made himself small against the doorjamb, so as not to disturb the fascinated students.
"This is far more D'ramatic at very low temperatures, where there is no electrical resistance, the rings are superconducting, and the current pa.s.ses without any loss. There are not the facilities here to show you this, but you will be ready for the superconductivity lesson in three or four weeks. Jaxom will be ready for it sooner; Piemur must do more on winding electromagnets with proper toroidal windings. Journeyman Manotti, your metal formers were not up to the standard required, but you have a week in which to improve."
Robinton tiptoed quietly away, not wishing to embarra.s.s the students. But he was smiling as he sauntered back to the entrance hall: a good teacher should give praise, encouragement, and admonition as required.
There were auxiliary workshops for smith, gla.s.s, and wood crafts in the larger of the excavated structures at Landing, staffed with masters, journeymen, and apprentices.
One morning, Lytol and Robinton were startled to hear a loud explosion and rushed to the source of the sound, which had come from Master Morilton's gla.s.s forge. There they found Master Morilton helping Jancis to blot the blood from a mosaic of cuts on the face of Caselon, one of the Gla.s.s-smith's apprentices. There were tiny bits of mirrored gla.s.s everywhere.
"Now," Master Morilton was saying calmly, addressing his remarks to the others in the forge, "you appreciate why protective goggles are so important. Caselon could well have lost his eyesight when that thermos gla.s.s exploded. As it is..." Morilton glanced inquiringly at Jancis.
"As it is," she said, with a wry grin, "Caselon's going to have the most interesting pattern of scars. Oh, don't worry," she added as the youth cringed. "They'll heal to nothing. Don't grimace. You'll only bleed until I've got you properly annointed with numbweed."
As Lytol turned to deal with the press of curious people who had rushed over, Robinton looked about the place. Master Morilton had certainly set up quite a crafthall here. A pump was going tapockety-tapockety tapockety-tapockety in the corner. A tube reaching up to the apparatus had a leather collar at the top, on which were the remains of a mirrored bottle neck. The rest of the gla.s.s was everywhere in the room, a myriad of tiny glinting pieces. in the corner. A tube reaching up to the apparatus had a leather collar at the top, on which were the remains of a mirrored bottle neck. The rest of the gla.s.s was everywhere in the room, a myriad of tiny glinting pieces.
"Shards," Caselon muttered, trying not to flinch from Jancis's ministrations. "That was my twentieth!"
Robinton then noticed that nineteen vacuum flasks were neatly racked on Caselon's half of the worktable; another twelve stood on the other side, where another apprentice, Vandentine, was working. How they had escaped the flying gla.s.s splinters, he didn't know.
"We are not in compet.i.tion mode here, Caselon," Master Morilton said, wagging a stern finger at the boy. "What exactly happened? I was concentrating on Bengel's wand work."
"I dunno," Caselon said, shrugging one shoulder.
"Aivas?" Master Morilton asked. The gla.s.swork facility included a direct connection to Aivas.
"When he molded the gla.s.s, he didn't ultrasonicate it or even tap it as you have taught him, to get the bubbles out of the mix. He was too busy trying to outproduce his partner. There were bubbles in the gla.s.s, so that under vacuum it imploded. But you may now use two of his vessels to demonstrate the properties of liquefied gases."
Numbweed had stemmed the bloodflow from Caselon's face, so Master Morilton gestured for him and Vandentine to follow him to an adjacent room. Robinton trailed behind. In this room, there was a different kind of pump; from a frost-covered nozzle, drops of a faintly blue liquid dripped to fall into a thick, mirrored catch-pot every second.
"The blue liquid is the air itself, the air in this room," Aivas continued, "which we are compressing and then rapidly expanding so that it cools again and again, further and further, until a tiny fraction of it liquefies."
Master Morilton said, "Don't touch the radiator vanes-they'll blister your fingers. This, Master Robinton," he added, smiling at their guest, "is a multistage refrigerator, quite different from the one you've been using in Cove Hold to chill fruit juice and foodstuffs."
Robinton nodded wisely.
"This last stage is the most difficult," Aivas said as Master Morilton gestured for Caselon to fill his flask. The room was filled with mist as the liquid air seethed until it had cooled Caselon's flask. Robinton moved his feet away as some of the pearly drops ran across the floor toward him. "Now, Caselon," Aivas instructed, "return to your works.p.a.ce and observe the antics of liquid air."
Caselon was already doing so as he left the room.
"Play with air?" Robinton asked, perplexed, and he noticed Master Morilton's knowing smile.
"This liquid helium," Aivas went on, "or rather, these liquids can flow in opposite directions at the same time; they will creep out of the top of a tall vessel and leave none in the bottom, and will even creep faster, much faster, through tiny holes than through large ones. You may fill a flask with liquid air yourself, Master Robinton, and experiment on your own. This is one of the most dangerous, and therefore educational, exercises for the students to do. Jancis, Sharra, there are flasks for you, too; this experiment is an important one for both of you." The way the two girls smirked at each other suggested to Robinton that they didn't know why it would be. "When you have become familiar with liquid air, we can begin to learn about the special properties of liquid hydrogen, and especially of liquid helium."
"If it's dangerous, should we be doing it?" the Harper asked.
"Danger can be quite educational," Aivas replied. "It is unlikely, for instance, that Caselon will forget to tap his mix no matter how many gla.s.s inserts he blows from now on."
It was an hour before Robinton and Lytol, whom the Master harper had interested in the liquid-gas experiments, returned to their usual duties.
More and more of the dwellings at Landing became occupied. Many of the artifacts so long stored in the Catherine Caves had been put to use, though the custodians had decreed that samples of each be retained to exhibit in Master Esselin's Archive building. Abandoned Landing once again became a bustling community. Where the walks and small yards had been cleared, there were even signs of renewed gra.s.s and weed growth.
"Are we a bit mad to reestablish this settlement?" Lessa asked one evening when she and F'lar had taken an evening meal in the Aivas building with Jaxom, Robinton, D'ram, Lytol, Piemur, and Jancis. "Those volcanoes could erupt again."
"I did mention that to Aivas," Lytol said, "and he replied that he is naturally monitoring seismic activity. Some of the instruments which the settlers' vulcanist installed are still functioning. He also a.s.sured me that there is little activity in the chain."
"And that is a positive thing?" Lessa asked, still skeptical.
"So Aivas a.s.sured me," Lytol replied.
"I 'd hate to lose all we've rebuilt here," F'lar said.
"Unfortunately," Lytol commented, with an ironic half smile, "Aivas can't be moved."
"Then let's not worry about something that may not develop into a problem," Robinton said firmly. "We have sufficient immediate ones. Such as how we're going to handle Master Norist. As you know, he had threatened to disavow Master Morilton's Mastery and to disown all journeymen and apprentices who have produced gla.s.s according to the, ahem, spurious methods and techniques of Aivas."
"He calls Aivas 'the Abomination'!" Piemur said with a malicious chuckle. "Aivas said-"
"You didn't tell Aivas that?" Jancis was aghast at Piemur's tactlessness.
"He didn't mind. I got the feeling it amused him."
Master Robinton gave Piemur a long look. "Do you-any of you-ever get the feeling that Aivas is amused by us?"
"Sure," Piemur replied blithely. "He may be a machine and all that, and while I know a great deal more about machinery than I used to, certainly, he's a Master machine that interacts with humans, so he must have criteria by which he recognizes levity. He may not guffaw as some do at my jokes and anecdotes, but he certainly enjoys listening to them."
"Hmmm" was the Harper's noncommittal response. "About Norist... As the duly elected Mastercraftsman, guiding his Halls, he can be replaced only at a convocation of all Masters. Unfortunately, the Gla.s.s-smithcraft is not a large one, and most of the Crafthallmasters are as dogmatic as Norist. On the other hand, I won't sit by and see Master Morilton disavowed or hara.s.sed or humiliated because he has learned something Norist didn't teach him. He's certainly proved adept at the new skills."
"Norist has also been leaning heavily on poor old Wansor," Lytol said. "Fortunately, Wansor appears oblivious both to the criticism and the fact that he might suffer the same discipline as Morilton. In spite of Norist's declaration, Morilton has managed to recruit quite a few journeymen and apprentices who have felt restricted by Norist's rigid adherence to Recorded techniques."
"If Norist is leaning on Wansor, why don't we lean on him?" Jaxom asked.
"I will," Lytol replied with a ghost of a smile. "And I would be happy to. A man who will not see beyond his nose has no right to be Craftmaster!" His smile was replaced by censure.
"Hear! Hear!" the Harper cheered.
"I also heard that Norist is denying Morilton the use of the best sandpits," Lytol went on, frowning.
"That's no problem at all. We've sand aplenty on this coastline," Piemur responded.
"Dimwit. Beach sand isn't what's used for gla.s.s," Jaxom said with some disdain. "It's the pits at Igen and Ista that have fine stuff."
"And those are the ones that Norist has denied Morilton," Lytol explained.
"He hasn't denied Lord Jaxom of Ruatha Hold!"
"Nor D'ram," the aged bronze rider said as firmly as the young Lord Holder.
Even Lytol grinned at that solution to Norist's intransigence. "Microscopes require a very high quality gla.s.s, you know."
"In any case, I don't see that as a major difficulty," D'ram said, glancing over to Jaxom. "Ruth and Tiroth won't mind a little excursion, I'm sure." Jaxom nodded obligingly. "You take Ista, and I'll get some from Igen."
"There's nothing on the settlers' map to indicate closer deposits, to reduce transportation time?" F'lar asked.
Robinton held up one finger. "We'll ask." And he pecked out the query with considerable speed on the keyboard of the unit in the room.
Immediately a list of locations scrolled out, with the type of sand to be found at each. Those sands that could be used for medical gla.s.s were starred, but Aivas recommended in particular the sands found at Paradise River and in an inland sandpit near the site of old Cardiff.
D'ram said he would go to the Cardiff site, as he knew that Jaxom would prefer a chance to see Jayge and Aramina, who were holding at Paradise River.
"Hmmm," the Harper said, studying his screen. "Aivas reminds me that he wants more green and bronze riders for training,"
"Would he take a big brown or two?" F'lar asked. "I've several riders who've offered. Seems like Aivas is biased against the medium sizes."
"I asked him about that," D'ram said, "for I thought it odd that he'd want only the largest and the smallest. He says the operation requires them, but he won't elaborate beyond stating that he must have enough candidates to allow him to pick the most likely to succeed in the venture and to have sufficient trained backup personnel." D'ram shrugged at his inability to explain further.
"I wish," Lessa said, "that occasionally he would be specific. Then we would have something to tell those we must disappoint. I don't want any resentful dragonriders. Though, in general, I'd say that morale has improved in all the Weyrs. And," she added, making a face, "all the Weyrs want to partic.i.p.ate."
"Aivas did remark that it was easier to teach the younger dragonriders," D'ram went on, "since there were fewer set mental patterns. Of course, there are naturally some few exceptions," he added smugly, rather pleased that he was one of them.
"Is that all right now?" Jaxom asked. "I'd better get back to Ruatha." His grin was abashed. "I'll bring in Paradise River sands tomorrow, but I'd better spend some time at home."
"In danger of being disowned?" Piemur asked with an impudent grin.
Jaxom disdained to reply, while Jancis elbowed the young journeyman harper in the ribs.
"Go on, then," F'lar said, with a bland sideways glance at Lessa.
"I'll just ask Aivas to print out the location of the sandpit," D'ram said, rising to leave with the young Lord Holder.
There was a slight frown on Lytol's face as the two left.
"Don't fret, Lytol," Lessa said rea.s.suringly. "Sharra's got every right to be annoyed at the amount of time Jaxom's spending here."
"Especially when I'm sure she's dying to take the healer lessons," Jancis said. "But Piemur, have you noticed it, too? That whenever Jaxom misses a day, Aivas particularly asks why?"
"Hmm, yes, I had at that," Piemur replied, momentarily thoughtful. Then he a.s.sumed a careless pose. "But Aivas sure works Jaxom harder than any of the rest of us, bar Mirrim and S'len."
"S'len?" F'lar asked. "Isn't he that young green rider from Fort?"
"That's the one. And Aivas insisted on drilling Mirrim to bring her up to a level with the rest of us," Piemur added.
"Why would the green dragons be so important to Aivas?" Lessa asked.
"They're small, that's why," Piemur said.
"Small? "
"Well, that's my hunch, and Ruth's the smallest of them all," Piemur went on. "There's no doubt in my mind that those two will play a special part in Aivas's Great Scheme."
Lessa and Lytol both looked concerned.
"Oh, don't worry about Jaxom," Piemur said airily. "He's the best of us all. Has a real grasp of all that navigational mathematics Aivas throws at us, and the spatial relationships."
"Has he suggested anything anything yet?" Lessa asked Robinton and Lytol. Both men shook their heads. yet?" Lessa asked Robinton and Lytol. Both men shook their heads.
Then Robinton grinned. "I get literary quotations, such as: 'There's a time for some things, and a time for all things: a time for great things, and a time for small things.' I am forced to a.s.sume that this is the time for small things, like a.s.similating all those foundation courses from Aivas; while the time for great things is still four Turns, seven months, and however many days away from us."
"Literary quotations?" F'lar asked, surprised. His lessons with Aivas tended to the practical: tactics, mathematical projections of Threadfall, and draconic healing-though he practiced none of the latter, he kept himself informed of Aivas's innovations.
"Oh, yes. And though Aivas admits he is choosing what he thinks might appeal to my tastes, our ancestors had fascinating and complex literatures from ever so many cultures that put ours to shame. Some of our epic sagas he has identified as paraphrases of Terran originals. Fascinating."
"Indeed, my studies have been equally absorbing," Lytol said, leaning forward on the table, his face lighting with his own enthusiasm. "I don't think any of us realized that our present political structure was handed down from the very Charter our ancestors brought with them. That is historically very unusual, Aivas told me."
"Why should it be?" F'lar asked, mildly surprised. "It allows Weyr, Hold, and Hall to function without interference."
"Ah, but interference was a major factor in Terran politics," Lytol replied. "Spurred by territorial imperatives and, all too often, sheer greed."
Adroitly interrupting another of Lytol's historical perorations, Lessa rose, nodding to Robinton and the two young journeymen. "We must get back to the Weyr now. Aivas gave me another healing compound to try on Lisath's wing. It simply isn't mending as it should."
I told Aramina that we're coming, Ruth said as Jaxom mounted him. Ruth said as Jaxom mounted him. She likes to know, you know, She likes to know, you know, he added in a confidential tone. he added in a confidential tone.
Jaxom rather wished that Ruth hadn't committed them to paying a call on Aramina and Jayge. He really ought to get right back to Ruatha, and go to Paradise River in the morning, as he had said he would.
"Well, we won't stay long, mind," Jaxorn said, giving Ruth an indulgent slap.
The white dragon was very fond of the young woman who, as a girl, had heard dragons so easily-and so incessantly-that she had inveigled Jayge of the Lilcamp Traders to take her as far away from dragons as he could to preserve her sanity. Shipwrecked on their way to the Southern Continent, they had been rescued by shipfish and set ash.o.r.e. There they had discovered and restored ancient buildings, not realizing the significance of their find. Located by Piemur on his coastline survey, they had been officially named as Holders of Paradise River and had increased their numbers to a sizable Hold, including a Fisher Hall. The former trader had been immensely surprised when Piemur and Jancis told him that a paternal ancestor named Lilienkamp had been instrumental in saving so much useful material in the Catherine Caves.
Following Aivas's directions, Jaxorn and Ruth emerged over rather anonymous gra.s.sland. It wasn't until they had overflown the alleged site several times that Jaxorn noticed the declivity well overgrown with gra.s.s and shrubs, with the suspicion of white glinting through the vegetation. They landed, and by kicking and gouging, Jaxom peeled back the obscuring greenery and lifted a handful of sand so fine it was nearly powder. Working up quite a sweat, he filled the large sacks he had brought with him. Finally, hot and tired, he remounted his dragon.