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"Harpers may not be mechanically inclined," Aivas replied when Sebell expressed his concerns, "but they are not without skill or intelligence, Master Sebell. Replicating or duplicating written material can be achieved by a variety of methods, of which the current laborious hand copying is the most prone to error. Using the relics of machinery and parts still available in the Catherine Caves, it will be possible to assemble a more efficient method of reproducing multiple copies of essential information, and the musical scores requested by your colleague in the Hall."

Sheets spewed from the print slot into Tagetarl's agile hands.

"The drawings itemize the parts you should be able to find in the caves, and the few that Master Fandarel will need to fabricate for you. It will be in his interests, also, to cooperate." There followed one of those pauses that Robinton liked to interpret as indicative of the various humors of Aivas. This one, he was sure, was a pointed reminder of how much the Smithcrafthall had already benefited by Aivas's assistance. "With the intelligence that appears to mark even apprentices in your Hall, you should be able to assemble the apparatus by the time Master Fandarel has finished installing the water-turbine station. There will then be sufficient power to run the printing press, as well. Master Bendarek has succeeded admirably in producing continuous rolls of paper, which are also essential to the process.

"The manufacture of the individual letters and numbers to comprise a legible type font, and the musical and scientific signs, should be relatively simple for those with good manual dexterity." Another page came out, illustrating a highly readable type font. "Journeyman Tagetarl is a dexterous carver." His remark astonished Tagetarl, who could not imagine how Aivas had learned about his handiwork. "There may be others with similar artistic talent who might assist."

"There isn't a printing press in the Catherine Caves?" Sebell asked, his tone slightly wistful.

"Unfortunately, no. Replication and data storage had developed well past such cumbersome processes. This method will, however, be sufficient for your needs for some time to come."

Sebell had taken the type-font sheet from Tagetarl. "It'll be nice not to have to squint or use a magnifying glass to read." He gave his head a shake. "Master Arnor won't like it."

Robinton grimaced and then sighed with regret. "Perhaps it is time. He's almost blind right now, you know. And those wretched apprentices take terrible advantage of him. Menolly was telling me about an incident only last week. One impertinent youngster handed in a scurrilous verse in place of the ballad he had been assigned-and poor Master Arnor approved it."

Tagetarl masked a grin. "That's not the first time Master Armor's had that trick played on him."

"This printing press would help conserve your supplies, Aivas?"

"It will, but that was not the basic reason to suggest that you extend your activities to include such a fundamental improvement in data handling. You will find that eventually you will need more than one press, so it would be prudent to learn the principle and improve on it in your own time."

"I think-" Robinton paused to glance at Sebell, aware that he was encroaching on the new Masterharper's authority with the suggestion. "-that this first printing press should be constructed here in Landing."

Sebell nodded, guessing the real reason for his mentor's suggestion. "That would certainly be less of an affront to Master Arnor." He examined the sheets with Tagetarl. "Dulkan's already here, and he's done some fine brasswork for harp plates. There're four more of the older apprentices, waiting for their hour on the General Science Course. We could use them until their appointment."

Robinton beamed at the two men, pleased to see the alacrity with which they were already moving forward on the project.

"Terry's down at the Catherine Caves right now, in fact. If we hurry, we can get advice from him, too," Tagetarl said eagerly.

With the briefest but still most courteous of farewells to Robinton, the two young men strode out of the room and down the hall, exchanging ideas on how to proceed.

Sometimes, Robinton thought as he slowly eased himself down into the nearest chair, such energy exhausted rather than revived him. Not that he wouldn't be delighted with this printing press. Able to run off as many copies as needed? What a concept!

It truly amazed him that there were now so many devices that had never before been required. The effects on Hall, Hold, and Weyr, only begi

And how were dragons and their riders to occupy themselves when Thread was no longer the rationale for the Weyrs? Robinton knew, though the notion was not widely discussed, that F'lar and Lessa wanted to lay claim to considerable lands here in the Southern Continent. But would the Lord Holders, who themselves looked greedily toward the open space of the vast Southern Continent, be complacent about such claims? Toric's realization that he had settled for such a small portion of the southern lands still rankled in that ambitious man's mind. In Robinton's estimation, the Weyrs deserved whatever they requested after centuries of service, but would the Lord Holders, and the Halls, agree? That concerned him the most. Yet it seemed to worry the Weyrleaders least. And what if, in the four Turns ten months, and three days specified by Aivas, the attempt should fail? What then?

Perhaps, and he brightened suddenly, all this new technology would absorb both Hold and Hall, to the exclusion of the Weyrs. Hold and Hall had always managed quite nicely to ignore the Weyrs between Passes. Perhaps things like power stations and printing presses were indeed valuable, but for more abstruse reasons, as well as the obvious ones.

"Aivas," Robinton said in greeting, carefully closing the door behind him. "A word with you." He cleared his throat, wondering why Aivas could sometimes reduce him to the nervousness of an apprentice. "About this printing press..."

"You do not concur with the necessity of such a machine?"

"On the contrary, I most certainly do."

"Then what troubles you? For your voice betrays a note of uncertainty."

"Aivas, when we first realized what you represented in terms of knowledge, we had little idea of the scope of all that had been lost over the centuries. Yet now, rarely does a day go by but some new device is suddenly on the essential list. Our skilled craftsmen have enough lined up to keep them busy for the entire Pass. Tell me, truly, are all these machines and devices really necessary?"

"Not to the way of life you had, Master Robinton. But to accomplish what is apparently the desire of the majority of Pern, the destruction of Thread, improvements are essential. Your ancestors did not employ the highest technology available to them: They preferred to use the lowest level necessary to perform the function. That is the level that is presently being reestablished. As you yourself requested in the initial interview."

Robinton wondered if he had imagined the tone of mild reproof. "Water-driven power..." he began.

"Which you already had available to you."

"Printing presses?"

"Your Records were printed, but in a laborious and time-consuming fashion that, unfortunately, permitted errors to be made and perpetuated."

"The teaching consoles?"