Date: Sun, 14 Mar 2004 18:04:31 -0800 (PST)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Red Orb of Pern - Part Ten

The Red Orb of Pern

M.C. Gordon

Disclaimer is attached to the beginning of this
series.  This is fan fiction written for a friend who
enjoys Anne McCaffrey's Pern as much as I do.
Comments welcome to quasito_cat@hotmail.com or
quasito_cat@yahoo.com

Chapter 30

   "Do we even know what we're looking for?" Julani
asked Andren as the two sat sipping klah in the large
dining area of Harper Hall.  The two had spent hours
going through the old records of Harper and Healer
Halls until their eyes ached from the strain.

   Masterhealer Benaren had, at first, thought Fenely
might have over-reacted to three unexplained illnesses
in one weyr.  But as the days passed and more and more
reports of a nearly identical illness came to Healer
Hall, he realized that the weyr healer had grounds for
her concern.  He had knowledge of several of the
symptoms; what puzzled him was the odd combination.
He discussed the situation with Masterharper Tokan and
it was decided that masters of both crafts would
search the ancient records for any previous mention of
this particular illness.  Time was of the essence for
this would soon become pandemic.

   No deaths had been occurred to date, but Fenely's
reports on the progress of the three children
initially taken ill weren't promising.  Their fevers
raged at dangerous levels; they were completely
covered with an uncomfortable rash; they had lost all
of their body hair.

   Fenely's most recent communication disturbed
Masterhealer Benaren a great deal for she advised him
that a slow paralysis seemed to be setting in.  More
of the weyrfolk had taken ill and he highly suspected
that the illness was both air borne and contagious.
The Masterhealer was also upset to learn that
Journeyman Jemison had fallen prey to the contagion.


  "I don't know what we're supposed to find," Andren
finally said.  "I've been through so many old hides
that I've lost count.  I'd know what to do if it was
that Influenza that struck several Turns back.  Only
these symptoms aren't the same."

   "Are you talking about the one that cost Moreta's
life?" Julani asked.  "I remember that ballad.
Couldn't Healer Hall just make some kind of serum to
give everybody?"

   "We'd have to start by drawing blood from someone
who's recovered.  Nobody's recovered from this yet.
We still don't know where it came from.  Masterhealer
Capiam was able to piece together enough information
to know that the illness he was dealing with came from
that feline from Southern Continent.  Nobody's ever
been back there since."

   Julani watched his friend.  Andren was a deeply
compassionate man, devoted to his craft.  The young
man, one of the youngest to become a masterhealer, was
possessed of a quick mind and sharp wit.  Julani knew
Andren was troubled at the news of Tomin being among
the first to become ill.  Julani had never cared for
the boy because he was a conceited sneak, determined
to do what he wanted ... when he wanted ... with no
thought for any repercussions that the weyr might
suffer.  But he knew that Andren still hoped the boy
would straighten out and become a responsible dragon
rider some day.

   Julani took a couple of deep breaths before he
broke more sad news to his friend.  "Fith showed up
this morning with a message," he began.  "I'm afraid
it's not very good news, Andren."

   "Tomin's not ...?"

   "Not that I know.  I think the Masterhealer would
get news like that from Fenely.  It's Davis, he's
become sick."

   Despair is the only way Julani could describe the
look on the young healer's face at the news.  Andren
had formed a special bond with Davis over the years
and had been greatly disappointed that the current
situation kept the boy from beginning his
apprenticeship at Healer Hall.

Chapter 31

   "I just plain don't understand," M'chell said to
L'del one evening as they checked their fighting
straps for worn areas.  "Why haven't we gotten sick?
Tomin was here with us for hours before Davis had the
good sense to send for Fenely."

   "I don't know," L'del responded.  "Maybe it hasn't
gotten to us yet because we're older?"

   "That can't be it," M'chell replied.  "Jemison's
older than we are and he's got it, whatever it is."

   Their conversation was quickly interrupted when
both dragons began pacing the weyr, uneasiness present
in their every movement.  Their eyes began to glow
with the red usually reserved for moments of great
distress.

   "What's wrong?" M'chell asked Raganth, rushing to
the golden dragon as L'del ran quickly to Ammorth.

   "The boy is dying," the great dragon replied.

   The two dragon riders quickly mounted Ammorth and
the huge bronze glided down to the ground level
entrance to the Weyr.  They dismounted and hurried
toward the Healer section, oblivious of the looks of
compassion that followed them.

   Fenely, now looking old far beyond her years,
counted silently to herself as she breathed into the
stricken boy's mouth and then pushed against his chest
... willing him to breathe.  The paralysis that had
stricken Tomin mere hours ago had stopped his lungs
from functioning.

   "Check his heartbeat!" the harried woman said as
the dragon riders entered the room.

   L'del quickly touched his fingertips to the boy's
wrist.  "It's very faint," he said.

   M'chell went round the bed and grasped Tomin's
right hand.  "Don't you dare," he said.  "Don't you
dare die on us, scamp.  You're going to be a
weyrleader some day, remember?  You're going to
Impress the biggest, fastest bronze dragon ever."

   "I'm sorry," M'chell heard.  The great golden
dragon, sensing that something was awfully wrong, had
reached out and touched the mind of the dying boy.
Raganth became the conduit through which Tomin could
speak, his throat paralyzed.

   "It's all my fault.  I broke into a cave with Danel
and Lesl the day we got sick.  The one you and L'del
found that time.  Only all we found was a cave full of
junk.  I guess some of that stuff made us sick."

   "I guess it did," M'chell replied.  He broke into
tears as Fenely touched his shoulder and shook her
head.  "I love you, Tomin," he whispered and kissed
the forehead once covered in auburn curls.

   Benden Weyr went into mourning, the bodies of three
young boys consigned to a funeral pyre.

Chapter 32

   "You have to let me go," Andren pleaded.  "If not
me, then someone.  Please, Masterhealer Benaren.
Benden Weyr needs a healer."

   Healer Hall had been shocked by the news that
Jemison and Fenely were both dead, the latest in a
long line of victims to the illness that had all but
stopped life on Pern.

   "Me too," Julani begged the master of his own
craft.

   The two faced the mastercraftsmen in the
Masterharper's work room where he was keeping a
running account of the current crisis.

   "What would you do?" Tokan asked.

   "I'll do whatever Andren tells me to do," Julani
replied.  "We both grew up at Benden and still feel
loyalty to the weyr.  I can fetch and carry; I know
something about herbs."  He began to laugh gently.
"Anyone does who was fostered by Lurah.  And I can
keep a good harper's record of everything, along with
Andren's account of healer information."

   Tokan glanced at Benaren.  The two had been friends
for so long that they could almost read each other's
minds.  Tokan knew that Benaren needed to send a
healer to Benden Weyr but hesitated to send someone
into what would probably be certain death.  That these
two young men would want to go into harm's way through
loyalty to their weyr touched the Masterharper deeply.

   "Very well, then," he said.  "If Andren is allowed
to go, you may go with him.  What say you, old
friend?"

   Benaren looked deeply into the eyes of one of his
favorite students.  "Go if you must, Andren," he
finally agreed.

   The two young men spent the next few hours
gathering together the herbs the Masterhealer thought
would be most beneficial in treating the stricken
weyrfolk.  Julani packed several soft new hides for
his record keeping.  They hadn't finished filling
their bags with supplies when a dragon arrived to
convey them to Benden Weyr.

   "M'chell!" Julani exclaimed as the golden rider
strode toward them, the heel of his boots leaving an
echo in their wake.  "Give us just a few more minutes.
 We're almost ready.  Andren is looking for some thick
hides to pack some liquids for the trip `between'."

   "You have no idea how relieved L'del and I were
when we got the message asking for someone to convey
you and Andren to Benden," the golden rider replied
just before he burst into tears.

   Julani took M'chell into his arms and held him,
giving what comfort he could.  "I was sorry to hear
about Tomin," he said.  "I know that you and L'del
hoped he'd make a good weyrleader if he settled down."

   "Tomin would never have been a weyrleader," M'chell
responded.  "He was too irresponsible and
self-centered."

   "But you still loved him, didn't you?" Julani
asked.

   His answer was overwhelming grief as the dragon
rider unleashed his emotions, sobbing until his eyes
were dry of tears.