Chap. 281 The Screamer

Chap. 281 The Screamer

Maybe I should have just told this L’ichen the coordinates to Landing and left it for him to find it himself. He’s taking an awfully long time collecting a handful of notebooks.

He was waiting for the botanist to return to the Weyr’s dragon meadow. Many of the dragonriding guests had already left. He looked up at the sky. It’s going to rain sooner than that journeyman meteorologist said, he thought.

Rath is coming Raventh said.

RATH?

Yes, he’s popped out of between, see him approaching?

I do!

The blue dragon landed. Raventh bugled a hello.

B’rost called “Well, I’ll be switched! K’ndar, hey there, give me a minute.”

K’ndar headed for Rath. B’rost unbuckled, dropped to the ground and met him. K’ndar stuck out his hand for a fist bump. B’rost, instead, gave him a bear hug.

“By the egg, it’s good to see you! Did I miss Impression?”

“It’s been a while, B! Yes, you missed Impression. It was yesterday. It was a good one. Mirth went almost two years without a clutch, so getting a couple bronzes and a gold was a relief.”

“Oh, well. I like Impressions, but duty called. I wanted to be here yesterday but I had a broken leg, and that took me until last night.”

Shocked, K’ndar looked at the man’s legs. “Um, they look fine to me, you must be a great healer.”

B’rost laughed. “No, one of my patients had a broken leg. I was just leaving a little cothold west of Southern Weyr when one of their herdsman sustained a broken leg from a cow kick. You know, I milked cows from the time I was a pup and not once did I ever have one try to kick me.”

“Maybe it was a beef cow? Ours would get pretty rank after a summer on the steppe. They didn’t want to come in for the winter. But with a good horse and a loud whip you usually can convince them to change their mind.”

“You WHIPPED them?”

“No. Just popped it, it makes one shaff of a loud crack. They think they’re about to get hit. I did have a horse, though, who, if the cow was acting stupid, would bite her on the rump. THEN she’d kick, you bet, but never made contact.”

“So, how did Impression go?”

“Very well. It was Mirth’s first clutch in two years. A bronze hatched first. Ultimately there was one gold and two bronzes in a clutch of twenty four.”

“Two years, that’s a long time between clutches. I bet the Weyrleaders were worried.”

“Aye, but they were the problem in the first place.”

“Let me guess, M’rvin being a knothead? Don’t tell him I said so.”

“Of course not. Yeah, it was mostly M’rvin. He…well, Siena has been the true Weyrleader for quite a while. She’s made a lot of changes, for instance, letting Candidates on the hatching sands wear sandals.”

“I would have loved that, I never knew why we had to be barefoot. So Siena’s running things and M’rvin’s just resting on his position?”

“Nope. M’rvin left. Resigned his position and just disappeared.”

B’rost thought for several moments. “Resigned! That’s a new one. Huh. So who flew Mirth? Who’s Weyrleader?”

K’ndar grinned, suddenly understanding why people played guessing games. I hate them, it would be hypocritical of me to indulge in them. But I understand the basis for them, now. It’s for the predictable reaction.

“F’mart.”

B’rost gaped. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa? F’mart? You’re kidding me.”

Yup. That was the reaction I knew I’d get.

“Nope. Kenth flew Mirth. Even with two other older bronzes, I hear it wasn’t even close.”

“F’mart. Of all the people in the weyr, he’d have been the last bronze rider I would believe make it to Weyrleader.”

“I know. I was amazed, too, but he’s done a lot of changing, B’rost. Where do you live, now? How long has it been since you left?”

“I don’t have a permanent home. As for how long since I left? I can’t remember, over a year? After I left the Weyr, I went up to Healer Hall. I decided being a geologist wasn’t using up enough of my time, and I’ve learned, when I have time on my hands, I find ways of using it to get into trouble.”

K’ndar laughed.

“Huh. F’mart. Well, I learn something new every day. So, I see you’ve got Raventh all harnessed up?”

“I was just about to leave. I’m at Landing now. I’m staff biologist! And I’m waiting on this, well, oaf, for lack of a better word, to take him to Landing. It’s a long story.”

“Landing! Good on you, I always knew you were a bright spark, ‘specially with biology. Do you mind if I come along? I’ve no reason to be here other than Impression and I was hoping to run into you. And now you’re at Landing permanently, huh?”

“Aye. Come with me.You can bunk in my quarters for a day or two, I’m pretty busy so I won’t have the time to just hang out, but you’re welcome. How is it you’re so footloose? Don’t you want to be based at a Hold, or a Weyr?”

“Naw, I’m a nomad, a journeyman Healer, in the truest essence of the word.

I like it, K’ndar. Remember when Greta and I skyhooted off?”

“YES, I sure do, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t piss me off.”

“Yeah,” B’rost said, “You’re right. I will admit that I did enjoy the nomading, the wandering, seeing the planet. Me and Greta, we were giddy with the freedom, but we did some things that were pretty stupid, K’ndar. We took risks that, in retrospect I’m thinking I did THAT? Idiot! And as time went on, it stopped being fun. Greta was..she was driven by something I never understood. Climbing rocks and finding fossils, that I loved. I didn’t like the times when we’d not had a full stomach for weeks, or a hot shower, which was pretty much most of them. Sorry to say, but had someone thumped me in the head and told me I was an idiot I would have ignored them. It was Rath who finally had had enough. I’m starving, he said, I’m hungry all the time. I’m ashamed to say he was right. I was so caught up with Greta, trying to figure her out, trying to make sense of why I was so smitten with her in the first place. It was always her deciding where to go next. After awhile it was just a matter of trying to survive. It’s not easy, being a nomad, K’ndar, if you don’t have a skill or a place to live and food to eat. How the Holdless do it, I have no idea.”

“I well remember when you returned. I’m not going to apologize, B’rost, you’d neglected Rath and yourself. Rath and you both looked like a rack of bones. Dirty ones.”

B’rost nodded, his eyes downcast. “You’re right. I was so wrong. I still apologize to Rath.”

He saw L’ichen approaching with a bulging backpack. “Is this your oaf?”

“Aye. He’s not much for words, he’s antisocial, so don’t worry about starting up a conversation. He’s..focused. Obsessed, really, and lacking in civility. But I’m merely showing him how to get to Landing, once I drop him off at Admin, I’m free to swap stories. Do you need the coordinates to Landing?”

“Naw, I’ve got Landing in my head. I’ll take you up on the offer to stay at your weyr.”

“Good. Because among the other stuff I want to tell you, I found out what happened to Greta.”

_______________________________________________________________

“All this is just for you? Just one inhabitant?” B’rost said, looking around his quarters.

“Yup. Just me and Raventh has his big bay. I felt lost at first, it’s so big and empty, but now I’ve been loaned some furniture and it has a lot of things we never had in a Weyr. Like this thing here, it’s a refrigerator. It keeps things cold.”

“I saw them at Healer Hall. Have anything to drink in it?”

“Water, and wine, but I don’t know how good the wine might be. It’s been in there a while. It’s called Kahrain, Lord Dorn’s gone into the ale and wine business.”

B’rost pulled the wine out. K’ndar handed him a mug. He poured some in it and took a sip. “It’s good. Aren’t you going to have some?”

“Nope, I keep it for guests. I can’t drink alcohol, I’m allergic to it.”

“Huh, that’s unusual, but not unheard of.”

“I kept it secret, for a long time. You know how it is, so many men think that if we can’t drink, our bollocks will fall off.”

B’rost giggled. “Still got yours?”

Laughing, he punched B’rost.

“Shards, it’s good to see you. So tell me, how is it you’re a healer now?”

“A JOURNEYman Healer, K’ndar, in the true essence of the word. I wander, but this time I have a skill that’s welcome everywhere, and money in my pouch to pay for food and lodging. And it takes years to make Master. I may never reach that point.”

He sipped the wine and relaxed in the comfortable lounge chair. Sunlight streamed through a nearby window and he could see Rath, Raventh and several other dragons sunning themselves in the meadow beyond. But the clouds in the sky foretold of rain.

“This is nice, K’ndar.”

“The chair? The quarters? The wine?”

“All of it. So, let me tell you the story of how a crazy blue dragonrider geologist turn into a healer.

It was Harve, K’ndar. Remember that boy we rescued? When I saw those hideous wounds on his legs, part of me cringed, but another part of me wanted to help him. I wanted to make his legs work, so he could be a normal boy. That meant being a Healer. I was being typical B’rost. One morning I decided, I’m going to be a healer, as if it were just as easy as lacing on a pair of boots. If I’d known beforehand what it entailed, I doubt I would have done it.”

“Tough?”

“Whew. Fighting Thread was easy, K’ndar. There was so much to learn, I think I broke my brain trying to memorize it all. It was tough, K’ndar. Those teachers can be brutal. Not mean, just…exacting. So much skull work, learning muscles, learning diagnosing, gestation, digestion, neurology…and that was the easy stuff. Then we had application of what we’d learned.

We had actors, you know, people pretending to be sick or injured in various ways, and we had to use what we’d learned to heal them. Sometimes we’d get a hint of what was wrong, they’d make it look like an arm was broken, but other times, you had to figure it out without help. The patients could tell you where they hurt, but you had to figure out why. Sometimes it was easy, some lout was puking because he’d drunk too much. But others, they’d be sick with something far less easily diagnosed. Field work was even more difficult. The instructors would throw us into scenarios..a rockfall in a mine, or someone having been bitten by something venomous. The actors usually couldn’t or didn’t tell you what was wrong, you had to do triage, you had to prioritize what to work on first.

One of the actors would scream from even the slightest of injuries. She had just the right pitch to scare the shit out of you. Rattled? Boy, she had my number. At least Thread didn’t scream when you flamed it. I always screwed up with her, when she’d scream I’d lose all concentration. Which was the point, I guess. Whenever I saw her I knew it was going to be bad. How she managed to not deafen herself, I don’t know. She sure did it to me.

And all the time, you have an instructor hanging over you, at first, they’d help you, point out what was wrong, help you sort out what to do, but as we got more and more into it, they stopped helping. By this time you’re supposed to have memorized the things to do, or just intuit it. They were hard on me, K’ndar, harder than any Weyrlingmaster. They’d let you go through the entire scenario without a word. It was After Action that was the worst. All the students are in one room with the instructors and the actors. They’d critique you and at first they were kindly and supportive, but as we progressed, they got increasingly critical. How did you do this, why did you diagnose that, you messed up on this other thing. I got nailed a LOT, K’ndar. In fact, I was ‘recycled’ twice. That means being set back, put into the class behind you, with new people. That’s even harder because you grow to like your fellow students and then you have to be with a couple of strangers and go through that entire segment of training all over again.”

“Didn’t you think of quitting?”

“All the time, K’ndar. In fact, I did. But, well, let me tell you what made the difference.

The scenario was where a bunch of fishermen had their ship break up on the reef. We had to bring them out of the water and stabilize them for transport. That was real, that part, the setting. We were knee deep in the surf, there was an old wreck, I don’t know if it was purpose built or just happened upon, but you’d go through it trying to pull people out. They’d put us out in the desert, out in the water, in mines, on a hillside-those instructors were, if nothing else, inventive.

Anyway, I thought I’d have it easy because my casualty had dragged herself out of the surf with a broken leg. She wasn’t saying a word, I though, oh good, I don’t have a screamer. This would be easy. Or so I thought. I got to work on her, made a great splint out of a piece of driftwood, and then sat back on my heels, satisfied. I told her she’d be fine and then went to help one of my classmates bring another casualty out of the water.

At AA..After Action, I got smashed. I felt I’d done a good job, but my instructor said, “B’rost-Fail”

“What? I yelled, I did a great job on her leg.”Then my instructor, he says, “You did, B’rost, you‘ve mastered stabilizing a broken leg. But your casualty died of blood loss. She bled to death.”

“REALLY?”

“No, not really, K’ndar, she was acting! But I’d failed to prioritize. I should have checked her in order, first, is she breathing, if so, then is she bleeding, stop that, then treat her for shock, and THEN try to splint the leg.”

K’ndar shook his head. “I would have given up, B’rost.”

The blue rider nodded.

“I did. K’ndar. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it. I had tried so hard, I’d been working my arse off, studying late into the night, getting up extra early to make sure Rath was fed, groomed, then gulp down a meal and go to class, being recycled despite my best efforts, and all for naught. I wasn’t ever going make it. So I stood up and said, Sir, I quit. Thank you for your time but I am not cut out for this.”

The instructors all just look at me, and I’m surrounded by my classmates, the third set, mind you, I’m humiliated, I’m embarrassed, I feel like an utter moron, I’m Stupid B’rost, and most of all, I’m discouraged. I’m no good at this, I said, I’m sorry but I just don’t fit here. I quit.

I intended to pack my bag and take off on my dragon and go anywhere but there.

B’rost gulped, and K’ndar saw tears start in his eyes.

“You okay?” he said, afraid he’d opened a wound he had no idea existed in the man.

The blue rider looked at him. “K’ndar, all my life, my self esteem has been under my feet. I was never good enough, never given credit for being anything but a silly gay boy, one with no friends, even at Kahrain my only friend was you, and I’d broken your nose because I was stupid. I was someone who’d never amount to much, someone who’d never be missed. Impressing Rath was the best thing that ever happened to me and I’d let him down while I was out with Greta.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, B’rost.”

“No, I’m not, K’ndar. I was beaten. I was done. I’d let everyone down, even my dragon.

So I stood up and said, thank you for your time, but I’m no good, I quit.”

Then one of the actors, the Screamer-they get to be in on the After Action to critique your handling of them-she says, “Don’t you dare quit, B’rost, you have more empathy than anyone I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been doing this for a while. You can do this. You must. You’re a healer, you just don’t know it yet.”

“And then my classmates all started saying, “No, don’t go, no, B’rost, you can do this. Stay, with us, stay.”

He gulped again, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“They said, “Stay.”