Chap. 325 Letting Go

Chap. 324 Letting it go

He’d found the rusted bar of metal in the barn. Why it hadn’t been recycled yet, he didn’t know. Then he’d taken it back to his quarters.

The value of the knife hung over him. A Hold? It was worth that much? But what would I do with it, even were I to find a person willing to buy it?

There’s probably none. Holders and Crafters aren’t interested in buying things like this, they would want ME to buy it.

Which means, essentially, it’s worthless.

I like the knife because of the way it feels in my hand. But if my original dagger feels a little less balanced, it’s not enough to discard. I’m not going to be throwing it. I know I could get Harlan to make me a new one, one that looks exactly like this.

The look on his face! I know that look. He wanted the knife. No, he wanted the metal. But he was stuck, like I am, now. It’s in the form of a knife, and he has no way of melting it down and casting it into something more useful. Everyone has a knife. They’re as common as humans.

If he’d not shown me how to cut this metal bar with it I’d have never known. I’ve seen that expression before. I bet I wore it when I saw Francie’s horse, Donal, at the horse auction and knew I couldn’t afford him. I can, now. He’s not for sale and even if I did manage to talk Francie out of him, what would I do with him? I barely have time for a dragon, a fire lizard, my books, my work, and myself. And she’s said I can ride him anytime I like. The knife is the same. Okay, I can cut horseshoes in half. Otherwise it’s just a knife, made of a valuable metal, but still, just a knife. I bet Vika had no idea what she had. Where did it come from?

If I turn it in to Jansen, do I tell her that it’s beskar? What would she do with it? Put it in the museum? I’m lucky it was just Harlan and Nyala who discovered its value. Word shouldn’t get out that this metal is so valuable.

He placed the rod on the workbench and pressed the knife to it. The beskar blade sighed through the metal without effort.

“Whoa,” he whispered. What an incredibly easy thing that was. It was almost pleasing. I suddenly understand why a woodcrafter or a metalsmith treasures certain tools. Imagine butchering with this. I could cut up a wher without breaking a sweat. Imagine a forester having a saw like this. Or anyone who needs to cut things.

He cut up two more pieces, and examined the cut end of one of them. It was smooth, as if it had burnished.

What our world would be like with more metal like you, he thought to the knife. On the one hand, it would make some people’s jobs easier. On the other?

I bet it would be a more violent one, with people like Vika and Scar willing to kill for beskar. Or gold. Or crystals.

Okay, he thought. Let’s turn you in, you beautiful thing.

He took the cut piece of metal with him.

“I KNEW it, K’ndar. I felt it in my gut,” Jansen said. “Something told me it’s an artifact. But there’s nothing that says so. It’s just a knife. There’s no identification that tells me where it came from or who made it or why I should even display it. I don’t have any place in the museum for a knife, what next, would I put up a hammer? I can’t even imagine why. Like you said, just about everyone carries a knife. Except me. It’s just a knife, K’ndar.”

Is she TRYING to make me keep it? he wondered. And should I just accept it?

“It is, but take it. Feel it.” he said, handing it to her butt first.

She took it, gingerly. He watched her face and saw-no change.

“Um, okay, is there something special about it? It’s a knife. It’s too big for kitchen use, like I’ve used all my life. It’s just a big knife, for cutting up things.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “But not quite the things you normally would cut with it.”

He glanced over his shoulder, then moved to the panel that controlled her office door and waved it shut.

“Now, here. See this metal bar? Watch.”

He put the edge of the knife on the rod.

“K’ndar, I may not carry a knife but I know what can damage the edge. What are you…”

“Sssh,” he said. He pressed, gently, savoring the finesse that was all the motion required.

Her jaw dropped.

He smirked. “Now, you try it.”

“Um..”

“Here. Don’t be afraid, it’s just a knife.”

“I’m not afraid of knives, K’ndar, I can use one. I just worry that it will skip off the metal.”

“Then you won’t even feel the hand coming off,” he said, laughing. “I’ll hold the bar, okay? You don’t need to force it. Promise. Just let it slip through the bar.”

She pressed. The knife cut the rod in half.

“Whoa. So…so easy.”

“Aye. Want to know why? Want to know why I’m turning it in as an artifact, even though it begs me to keep it? For one, I can’t keep it in a sheath. It cuts its way out just by my walking.”

“Amazing. Worrisome. How did Vika carry it?”

“I have no idea. Maybe she just hung it by the handle, there is a hole in the end. How she kept it from cutting her leg off, I don’t know. Or maybe she had just the edge protected. I don’t know, I really didn’t pay attention when they were bundling up her body.”

“And the second?” she said, handing him the knife.

“Go in to the database, and type “beskar”.

She turned to her work station and called up the data.

And shut her jaws after a long, quiet moment of absorption after reading.

“Beskar. I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Nor had I, but the Weyr’s metalsmith knew right away, even before testing it on a horse shoe. Even without touching it, despite never having actually seen beskar, he knew what it was. He said there’s not a metalsmith on Pern who hasn’t heard of it. It’s so valuable, Jansen, I’m, um, I don’t know the word, but if someone who knew what beskar is, someone not as honest as Harlan were to see it, maybe he might use it to cut off my head and steal it. Maybe that’s how Vika got it. Someone else had it. Maybe that person didn’t know it was beskar, maybe they did. I don’t know. How long has it been here on Pern? Who brought it, how did it get here, was it here even before WE got here? That’s why I’m turning it in as an artifact.”

She nodded. “Maybe Shawn had it. Maybe someone turned it in and he figured out what it was, but he didn’t say so to the person. He was very quick to steal just about anything of value.”

“That makes sense. But it could also have been on the starship, or left here by the Ancients, who knows? We’ll never know.”

She shook her head. “K’ndar, I don’t know what to do. Or say. If it’s as valuable as the database says, do I dare display it? Do I label it as beskar?”

Her door weedled. “Jansen? Are you okay? Raylan here, may I come in?”

She looked at K’ndar. He shrugged. “Come on in, boss,” she called.

“Please, sir, shut it behind you. Put on the ‘in conference’ light.”

Puzzled, he obeyed.

The metal rod was sundered one last time. Raylan held the knife for long moments, then read the database report. He carefully put the knife down and turned, his hands on his hips. He looked K’ndar in the eye.

“If I had known you would be the best finder of things on Pern, I probably, well, I would have put you in a different position than biology. I guess. But K’ndar, you certainly have a way of putting the most complex of situations on my desk.”

K’ndar gulped. “I’m sorry? I think?”

Raylan relented. “It’s okay, K’ndar. You’ve more than paid your way with your discoveries.”

Jansen asked, “Sir, what do we do with it?”

He looked at K’ndar. “You’re sure you want to turn it in?”

K’ndar nodded. “It cuts right through leather sheaths. Twice now it’s fallen right out and just missed my boot. Just knowing how valuable it is makes me nervous.”

Raylan picked the knife back up. “It has a lovely feel to it. Very nice. It seems to want to stay in my hand for ever.”

“Yes, yes. That’s exactly how it feels to me,” K’ndar said.

Raylan raised the blade and twisted the knife back and forth. “What shall we do with you, you little beauty,” he addressed the knife, “such a problem you pose for an inanimate object.”

“We were wondering if it should be in my museum?” Jansen asked.

He turned to Jansen.”The museum has been your project from the very first, Jansen, and you have always been the arbiter of what to display. So I think that, if and when, ma’am, if and when, you create a display of tools from the Ancients, put this in among it. Don’t label it as beskar, although I would definitely put that in the catalog of museum items. No one looks them up. If we’re lucky, any metalsmith who comes to visit the museum will see it and take it as damask.

In the meantime, I will lock this up, um, oh, dear. I have no idea where to lock it up. Do I give it to the beancounters?”

“No, sir, please,”Jansen protested. “They’re so focused on money they’d figure out that it’s valuable, and as gossipy a bunch as they are, it will be all over Pern in fifteen minutes, and that’s not by using fire lizards. OR the database.”

“True,” Raylan said. Now I’m glad she had me shut the door.

“Do we tell the Council of Six what it is?” K’ndar said.

Raylan stopped in shock. Then he recovered.

“Damn it, K’ndar, there you go again, throwing this on my hands.”

“Sorry,” he said, “but this time, no, I’m not sorry at all. Rank has it’s privileges. Sir.”

Raylan laughed.

Jansen picked up the knife. I guess it’s a nice knife, she thought, a bit heavy for cooking with, though.

“Sir, if I may? I do not want to put this SPECIFIC knife in any future display. But, if the weyr’s metalsmith were amenable, I’d like for him to make a replica. I can scan it to a millimeter, weight, length, etc. and give him the plans. That way I can display it as “Artifact, knife,unknown origin, found on Pern,” or something to that effect. Making a replica out of plain steel should make it safe to display. The real one, this beskar one? I am not sure, but doesn’t Landing have a way of keeping some truly valuable things? I’m told there’s harvolan crystals from Vulcan, gold bars, that sort of thing that the Ancients kept. I think I remember reading it was called an ‘investment’ to be used in case, um, in case we were contacted by an advanced culture. Or, oh, I don’t know how money works, I don’t know um, economics. But this beskar, as the database says, is more valuable for its metal than as a knife. Maybe we should put the knife in with the other valuable stuff.”

“You’re right. I’d completely forgotten about “the investment” locker. That’s an excellent idea, Jansen. K’ndar, do you think that metalsmith would be willing to make a replica of it? For pay?”

“He’s an honest man, sir. I think he would. And while he’s at it, I’ll ask him to make one just like it, for me.”

“Make that two,” Raylan said.

______________________________________________________________

Jansen put the knife on the scanner. This time she asked for dimensions. The database quickly created them.

“I’ll send this to your datalink, K’ndar, but I’ll also print them out for the metalsmith, Harlan, did you say?”

“Yes. I don’t believe he has a datalink, he’d probably want the paper.”

“Tell him there’s no rush,” she said.

Raylan was studying the picture of the knife on her screen. Those lines, he thought, those lines.

“Jansen, please, zoom in on those lines on the blade,” he said.

“Certainly.” She clicked and the scanner zoomed in.

“Closer. Closer,” Raylan said.

“They’re not solid lines. Look, there’s breaks in between,” Raylan said. “Can you zoom in closer?”

“This is the limit to magnification, sir,” she said.

“Maybe not. Pretend it’s an old hide, with no letters visible”

She typed for a moment. The magnification increased. The breaks in the line resolved into individual segments. K’ndar felt a chill run down his back.

“Symbols. Symbols! They have to be letters. Or numbers?” Raylan breathed,”Copy them.”

Jansen did as asked.

“It’s writing. It’s a language,” she said.

“Yes,” Raylan said.

“Can the database read it?” K’ndar asked.

She typed.

Unknown language. No information in database.

“Can the database, um, decode it?” K’ndar asked.

“Translate. Um, it might, but it will take up so much of the computer’s brain, so to speak, it might not be worth it,” Jansen said. “I think we’ve reached a dead end on it. But if nothing else, we know it’s not from Pern, or any other culture we’ve had contact with, like Vulcan. Obviously, it’s not even from the Nathi.” She shrugged.

“Jansen, if you make the language a part of the display, it will turn it from ‘just a knife’ into something fascinating, maybe it will be the center piece, the display everyone will want to see, don’t you think?” Raylan asked, his eyes twinkling. “Everyone loves a mystery,” he said. “Who knows, maybe it will inspire some bright spark out there to try and translate it.”

“It will,” she said, smiling.