Chap. 310 A New Project

Chap. 310 A New Project

Jansen looked victorious.

“It took a while to find that beast in the database. Your initial data fills in a big part of a blank, but it’s still a mystery.”

K’ndar was standing next to her workstation. “So I’m not the first to describe it?”

“Well, that depends on what you mean by ‘describe’. In the literal sense, yes, although that new man, Robson, is going over it very carefully, despite the smell.”

“As far as I’m concerned, he’ll have earned the rights to naming it. That thing stinks worse that that weird jaw the Serengeti recovered.”

“I know. I went to see it after you dropped it downwind of the compost pile. But interestingly, I found a mention of what is possibly the same animal after a frustrating two days of searching.

The cairn you found? The data off the hide was sketchy, but what I can gather is this: in 2000, a weyrling from Benden made a mistake in his coordinates. It was, perhaps, his first venture on his own, or perhaps he was goofing off? I don’t know, but he came out of between at that spot on the Eastern range, where you found that gap. That was long, long before Southern was anything more than the blank half of the map. I doubt he even knew he was ON Southern. He had the presence of mind to make the cairn and then, bravely reported his mishap when he returned. The hide, which had large parts of data so obliterated it was illegible even to Aivas, said something about a second hide with more information about ‘beasts’.

That’s what had me flummoxed, there was no second hide, at least not indexed as such. Maybe it was scanned later, or just mis-indexed, a possibility that worries me.

Anyway, I was digging through the database for this rider’s name and not finding anything more than that one hide. Then I thought, duh, search for the beast, not the rider. I put in several different terms and when I used ‘spike neck’ there it was.”

“Whoa. Really! That’s amazing! What does it say?”

“The rider reported the basin between the two ranges was “full of trees” and in a clearing were these “many large red beasts, taller than a runner beast, with horns on their heads and spikes all along their necks.” He reported seeing one of them grasping a tree and “shaking it”, and two “locking their horns and wrestling.”

Ah, he thought, yes. I must be right about their shaking trees!

“Huh. The wrestling, it had to have been two males, fighting for females. Was there anything else?”

“No.”

“Hmm. It said the basin was full of trees?.”

“Yes, he says the basin, not the exterior. That’s odd.”

He was silent, his brain running through a list of possibilities.

“Now the basin is steppe, and the trees are only on the northern side of Eastern Range. Well, perhaps not. We didn’t check the southern side of Southern Range. But I’m guessing the reverse face of Southern range is barren.”

“Which might mean the trees are dying out.”

He nodded. “Aye. Which would be a shame, they’re lovely trees and as B’rost proved, the nuts are very tasty.”

“No! B’rost didn’t really eat the nuts, did he?”

“Yes, he did. B’rost! He’s always taking enormous risks, but in this case, he identified the trees as being “chezznuts”, the same species as three growing in his home crafthall.”

“Huh. He’s from one of Lord Dorn’s crafthalls, right?”

“Yes, although I’ve never been to it. A cheesemaker hall.”

“And they called the trees ‘chezznuts’, yes?”

“Yes.”

She typed. Within seconds, the database popped up with a drawing of the trees as well as one of the nut pod.

“It’s here, look, under chezznut, there’s a very detailed description of the nuts, when to harvest them, which is right now, there’s even a recipe! Whoever she was, she made very good notes as to how to bake them!! Her hide was in much better condition, it, um, oh, she was an Oldtimer’s daughter, it seems, and when the crafthall was established she took note of all the fruit and nut trees in her area. Good girl!”

“To go back to the basin remark, if the trees are no longer growing in the basin, it makes me believe that the steppe is advancing south, not retreating north,” he said.

“What’s changed? Why are there no more trees in the basin?”

“I’ll have to go take a better look, but I suspect it may have been a vagary of the climate. Maybe the mountains protect the trees from the winds from the south. They can get awfully cold. Or maybe it’s the soil, there’s a lot of different scenarios. From what I saw, the trees extended the entire length of the leeward side of the Eastern Range, east and west, as far as the eye could see.”

“But they were more extant, once. I believe B’rost’s report that they were much further north. We can’t know how much area they covered in the past. If they were just in the area you found them, I’d say they were constrained by the environment. But how in the world did they end up in a crafthall hundreds of kilometers from the Range?”

“I don’t know, but it could have been a bird, or a wherry, coughed up some nuts as it was flying north. Or maybe the present population is a relic-maybe they’re going extinct. Or-the thought hits me, when I was in the rain forest a few months ago, there were many trees new to me. There were trails that looked like something tall made them, tall like the beast. I wonder if they’re there, both the trees and the beast. But that would be on Lord Toric’s Hold, and he’s made it very plain dragonriders are not welcome in his Hold.”

“He doesn’t own the sky, K’ndar. And at the moment, he’s in hot water with the Council, what with his encouraging settlers to trespass on lands not his own.”

“Would the Yokohama be able to differentiate chezznuts from other trees in the forest?”

“Well, yes and no. If you were to bring in samples of the leaves, the wood, bark, and nuts, I’m certain Miklos could decipher the DNA. The problem the Yoko has in distinguishing tree species is that no one has ever produced a catalog of the tree species on Pern, neither from on foot or from the air,” she said.

“No one? Not even the Ancients?”

“Not that I can find. Oh, they brought trees and plants with them, from Earth and from Vulcan, those are indeed in the database. But the native stuff? No. I don’t know if they just didn’t have the time, just trying to survive the onset of Threadfall, or, if they DID inventory trees, it was all on Northern, and any data is lost.”

“And probably, by that time, annotated on hides. Which, as we both know, don’t last twenty five hundred years.”

“No,” Jansen sighed, resignedly, “That’s for certain. It’s why Raylan wanted to hire that botanist, L’ichen. He did excellent work, but all his data is on forbs, grasses and flowers. No trees. He’s not been back since he turned in those six notebooks in as many days. Maybe he got spooked.”

“If he was from the future, maybe something happened to him. Going back and forth through time is risky and he’d been pushing his luck for a very long part of it.”

Jansen’s mind had been percolating a thought for several moments.

“You know, K’ndar, a catalog of trees, if nothing else, would be a tremendous addition to the environmental database. We could start seeing if, for instance, those trees could be grown elsewhere. If they can survive a northern crafthall, why not elsewhere on Pern? But the problem is, we don’t know what is growing where.”

He mulled over the concept for several moments.

“I could do that, start working on producing a catalog of trees,” K’ndar heard himself say. “I’d have to have your help in creating a plan.” A part of his mind began to wave its arms in alarm. Yet another long term nebulous project? Am I insane? Didn’t I learn to never volunteer for anything?

Yes, said the biologist in the opposite corner, but isn’t this precisely what you want to do? Have an excuse to go nomading, all over the planet?

Whoa, said his heart, listen to the biologist. Yes. I do want to do that.

“I’d be glad to create a plan, K’ndar, in fact, I’ll use the same matrix as L’ichen used in his notes. But it will take an awfully long time for just one person.”

“Aye,” he said, wondering if he was up to it.

“It’s starting to bloom in my mind as we speak. We need that sort of data. And, K’ndar, I also note that despite the Oldtimer’s recipe, no one has officially or scientifically described the tree. If you’re interested in having your name on a paper, those would be more things to elucidate, the lifestyle of the spiked necked beasts and the scientific description of the trees.”

K’ndar shook his head. “I’m no glory hound, I really don’t understand this urge of some people to have their name in history.”

“I know. But it still needs to be done, and why not you?”

He looked down at the smiling Jansen and grinned.

________________________________________________________

We’re going back to where the dogs attacked? Raventh asked.

Yes. I want to see those beasts in the daylight. I hope we can find them.

That shouldn’t be too hard. I know their scent. They smell good to eat.

K’ndar laughed out loud. And you’re hungry?

Yes.

Leave a little flesh for me, so I can collect DNA.

What is DNA?

He sighed, mentally.

It is far too complicated for me to understand, never mind describe. It is just how humans can identify beasts.

I’m prepared, this time to take samples, he thought as he finished harnessing Raventh. Cargo straps, camera, binocular, specimen bags, extra notebook. And the annoying datalink.

They came out of between to a biting cold breeze and a cloudless sky. Below them, the bare limbed trees were bending to the wind.

Siskin chipped.

“Siskin, no hunting quorls, understand? I don’t want you taking off again. You scared me half to death.”

Siskin chittered, sending an impression of fullness and no hunger. K’ndar saw his image of a quorl beneath his fore paws. It looked as big as the fire lizard.

“No doubt you’re not hungry, you little twit. Look at the size of that thing! Now, laddie, stay with us.”

He was glad he was wearing a heavy riding jacket. Even with it, it was cold.

There are many dragons here. They’re from the Weyr.

Where?

Behind us, in the forest. There is a large clearing. Banarth is with them. Careth is there, too, he brought Lord Dorn.

Banarth? Weyrlingmaster B’rant’s bronze?

Yes. And many young dragons, I don’t know any of them.

Weyrlings?

Yes.

They forest got thicker the further south they flew. Finally he saw the clearing.

It was full of dragons. Careth and Banarth bugled a welcome.

Raventh landed in a small spot near the crowd. Not far from his landing spot was an enormous fallen tree. There were no riders visible.

He dismounted. His datalink chirped. “Careth says you just landed in the clearing,” D’mitran’s voice said.

“Indeed, ’tis I,” he quipped. “What in the world is going on? This clearing looks like half the Weyr is here.”

D’mitran laughed. “Not the whole weyr, just B’rant’s Weyrlings, and many of Lord Dorn’s farmers. We’re deep in the forest, harvesting nuts. There’s tons of them here. Lord Dorn requested transport from the Weyr to harvest as many nuts as possible before the rains start.”

“He works fast.”

“Aye. I talked to him last night, and only because it was so late did he not start harvesting until this morning. I took a gamble and suggested he contact B’rant to provide Weyrling labor and transport. His wagons would have taken days to reach here.”

“I bet B’rant jumped at that. He always did love opportunities to put weyrlings into real world situations.”

“Aye,” D’mitran said, laughing, “But the weyrlings weren’t so happy, it was supposed to be a rest day for them.”

“Ah, the travails of Weyrling life,” K’ndar said, laughing. “Nuts are easier than some of the things B’rant thought I would find fun.”

He heard Lord Dorn chuckle in the background. “K’ndar, it won’t be easy. The leaves are ankle deep, the quorls are furious, they’re continually harassing us. And that big beast you found? They’ve cleaned up a lot of the nuts, I’m guessing,” he said.

“My lord, have you seen them?”

“No, but there’s sign everywhere, footprints, dung, even another skull. D’mitran’s son found it. You’re in the clearing? See that big dead tree at the edge of it? He left it at the base. Take a look at it, the horns are battered but sound, and well over a meter long. I’m thinking of having it cleaned up and placed over the fireplace in my Hold.”

He walked over to the tree. And whistled.

The skull was in almost perfect condition, save that the lower mandible was missing. The horns bore the scars of many battles.

“It’s huge. It’s bigger than the one we recovered,” he said to the datalink.

A pang of envy ran through his soul. I would have liked to have kept it, he thought. But it’s Lord Dorn’s Hold, his trees, his beasts. There will be other skulls, he consoled himself.

“K’ndar, are you here to help?” D’mitran asked, hopefully.

“No, I’m here on Landing business. I’m here to collect data on the trees and what stuff I can find from the beast.”

“Well, there’s plenty of dung around. Just look around, you’ll find it.”

“And step in it!” he heard a boy’s merry voice in the background.

“Yes,” D’mitran said, wearily, “Your mother will be so pleased.”

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