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"Succeed in what?" Lytol persisted.
"That is something we must also learn." Robinton laughed in self-disparagement. "Not to put too fine a point on it, Lytol, but we're plainly too ignorant to understand his explanation. He did try-something about windows, and leaving Pern at just the precise moment to intercept the Red Star, or rather the planet which appears red to us for so much of its orbit in our skies. He showed us the diagram." Noting his defensive tone, he shook himself. "If you wish to query him, Lytol, I'm sure you can."
Lytol cast Robinton a sardonic look. "There are others with greater reason to consult Aivas."
"But you must hear our history from Aivas, Lytol," Dram said, leaning forward across the table. "You'll appreciate then why we can so unreservedly believe in Aivas and in his promise."
"He really has got to you, hasn't he?" Lytol shook his head at their credulousness.
"If you listen to what he says, you'll believe," Robinton said, rising. He had to clutch at the towel to keep it from slipping, which reduced the dignity of his pronouncement. "I'm dressing to return to Landing. Dram, will you and Tiroth oblige me?"
"Since you are rested," Dram said, giving his housemate a long and searching look, "we will, of course, oblige. Lytol, will you not join us?"
"Not today."
"Are you afraid of being won over despite your reservations?" Robinton asked.
Lytol shook his head slowly. "That's not likely. But go. Enjoy your dream of Threadfree skies."
"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," Dram 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."
"But you do?"
Dram smiled over his shoulder at the Harper as he settled himself between Tiroth's neck ridges. "I'm a dragonrider, Harper, and dedicated to the eradication of Thread. If there is even the slightest hope . . ." He shrugged. "Tiroth, take us to Landing!"
"Watch out, D'ram," the Harper cautioned. "It's undergone considerable alterations even since yesterday noontime when you left it."
So Monarth warns me. Although the Harper knew that Tiroth was speaking directly to Dram, his chest swelled with the privilege of hearing. I have the altered .scene from him. It has changed.
Was there a note of discontent in Tiroth's tone?
However, the great bronze dragon took them between and reentered on the hill west of the Aivas building, hovering in the air above the line of dragons su
Gliding down toward the building, Robinton and Dram could not see the alterations until the bronze veered to his right and backwinged to land on the wide yard.
"I'd no idea!" D'ram gasped, turning to stare at the Harper, who was no less surprised than he.
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.
"Free-for-all?" D'ram asked, dropping to the ground beside Robinton.
"That's what it certainly sounds like," Robinton did not recognize any of the dissenters, though he noted four of Master Esselin's biggest workmen standing in front of the closed doors of the building. He took a deep breath and strode forward.
"Now, just what seems to be the trouble here?" he asked loudly. It took only a moment for all the disputants to realize who was addressing them; immediately he was encircled, each plaintiff demanding his attention. "Now wait just a moment!" he bellowed. Behind him on the hill, bronze and gold dragons added their authoritative bugle, and silence fell. Then he pointed at one man wearing a Masterminer's knot and Crom's device.
"Master Esselin will not let us in," the man said belligerently.
"And my Lord Holder"-a man wearing the head-Steward knots of Boll pushed forward from the group-"insists that we be given the facts about this mysterious being."
"Deckter charged me to do the same," a Steward from Nabol said in the most aggrieved tone of the three. "We demand to know the truth about this Aivas. And I'm to see this marvel before I return to Nabol."
"Yes, you all have been unconscionably slighted," Robinton said soothingly. "And those of us who have been fortunate to hear Aivas know that seeing Aivas is the first step in believing what he can do for us all, Hold, Hall, and Weyr. Why, I've only just been allowed to return." He feigned indignation at such an omission. That the much respected Harper of Pern should be denied access, too, seemed to appease them. "Now, you must realize that the room where Aivas is installed is quite small, though I notice there have been attempts to enlarge the space." He craned his neck as if trying to see just how much larger it was. "Hmmm. Yes, working day and night from the look of it. Most commendable really. Now, if you'll just bide here, I'll see what can be done about your quite legitimate request to see Aivas."
"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."
"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 tu