Chap. 295 Out with the Old

Chap. 295 Out with the Old Technology

“The problem with having as big as Hold as Lord Toric’s,” D’mitran said, “is managing it. It’s virtually impossible to know everything that’s going on in it.”

“Even with all his sons? They have runners, and drums.”

“I imagine his sons are more concerned with who’s going to be Lord Holder once Toric dies. It promises to be a fight. Toric keeps them all off balance. It won’t be pretty once it comes down to succession,” D’nis said.

They were in Landing’s conference room, a large map of Southern continent on the wall. This was the last meeting before they actually buckled down to conducting the survey.

“I never realized how big it is. It’s twice the size of Lord Dorn’s,” K’ndar said, “and I always thought Singing Waters was enormous.”

“Yet he still wants more.”

“How much does he need?”

“Ah, that is the question. Some men want money, some men seek notoriety. And some seek land without worrying too much about whether it’s already owned. There’s an old story, perhaps apocryphal, from Earth,” D’nis said, “If you have a moment?”

The three sat back.

“There was a wealthy man named Pahom. He had a large and comfortable home and land but wanted more, specifically that of his neighbors. He thought their land was far better than his. They refused to sell. He fought with them and in return they threatened to destroy his home. One of them told him about a group of people who had more land than anyone and were willing to sell it. So he sold his land, intending to find them and buy their land.

He found them. They called themselves a ‘tribe’. They lived simple lives on land whose borders were beyond the horizon. The tribe lived in an egalitarian society. There was no holder, no lord, no tithing. No one claimed to own the land, they lived with it. They shared what they had with every other person in the tribe.

Pahom saw that their land was rich in many things: pasture for his horses, grain for bread and ale, an immense lake with many fish, minerals to be mined, forests to be harvested. He believed these people to be stupid and naive. He asked them, “How much land do you have?” One of the people that he took to be their leader said, “I don’t understand. We have as much land as we need.” That led Pahom to believe he could cheat them. So Pahom asked them, “How many hectares can I buy for a hundred marks?” The ‘leader’ said, “I do not know what a hectare is. We will sell you some land. You can choose it. You can have as much land as you can walk in a day, but you must be at the starting point by sunset or you lose your money and the land.”

The next morning, Pahom was ready. He kicked a spot in the ground to mark it, and at sunrise, started to walk. He walked all day, without rest. He was never satisfied with what he’d already claimed. He would reach a certain point and see far beyond him and want that, too. As the sun was setting, he realized he was far from the starting point. He turned and ran back as fast as he could and reached the starting point at sunset. He was so exhausted that he dropped dead on the spot he started from.

He was buried right there, two meters deep. The leader said, “Ah, two meters is all the land he needed.”

Greed, K’ndar thought.

“Had it coming, he did,” Risal breathed.

“Aye.”

“Too bad Lord Toric didn’t have the same deal,” B’rost said.

“In a way, he did, B’rost. Lord Toric could be considered Pahom. When he first came down here, no one knew just how big Southern is. It’s easily twice the size of Northern. He believed he had the entire Southern continent. He’s bitter now that he knows that, as big as his Hold is, there’s still a lot of unclaimed land out there. Now it’s considered dragonrider land, which infuriates him. He believes he was cheated.

I think that is one of the reasons Toric has invited certain people to come and settle it, because he’s learned that he can’t hold it all by himself, no matter how land hungry his many children are. He wants more and more. He just doesn’t have the wherewithal to enforce his boundaries.”

“He doesn’t twitch at pushing out beyond them,” K’ndar said.

“True. But there’s a price he’s paying, whether he knows it or not. When the opportunistic or just plain unethical people learn that he’s not patrolling his borders, they move in without his permission or knowledge. And they don’t tithe. After a while they begin to believe it really IS their land. They become Holders in their own mind and soon are ready to fight for it.

You must be careful when dealing with these people, called squatters. Some of them will not react kindly if they know you’re going to report their activities. They will be prepared to defend “their” holds. After all, they have few choices-run, fight, or banishment to some miserable fly speck of an Eastern Island. They have too much invested to run, and have no intentions of being banished. That leaves fighting.

I’m certain you remember the settlement you found on Lord Dorn’s land. All it takes is one criminal like Karloch to create a situation that could have, in that case, been hazardous to your health.”

“Aye,” D’mitran said, “I’ve been out there several times, after Karloch was killed. Lord Dorn wasn’t too happy about these people arbitrarily setting up their own cothold on his lands. But he realized it was smarter to allow those holdless people to manage the land they’d settled rather than run them all off. They’re doing a very good job and tithing faithfully. Even so, there were two brigands, Vika and Scar, who escaped and no one knows where they went. Or are. They’re criminals with crossbows and know how to use them. I would not be surprised at all that they’re on Southern Hold now, quite probably doing the same thing they did on Lord Dorn’s land.”

“What was this? What was this?” B’rost asked, “Did I miss some fun?”

K’ndar grinned. “Kind of. I’ll tell you later.”

“Does it mean, Lord D’nis, that we might end up fighting them? Or getting shot at with crossbows?” Risal asked. She was beginning to wonder if maybe this wouldn’t be as much fun as she’d thought.

“I don’t know, Risal. I suggest, no, I ask that you avoid conflict at all costs. I think it’s better to be forewarned and go in with the mindset of situational awareness. I may be completely wrong. Any squatters who see the dragons, or witness your working, may hide from you. There will be ample evidence left behind of their activities, especially if they think no one is actually looking for them.”

Or come on the muscle, D’mitran thought. Maybe I should ask Lord Dorn for a crossbow? But I’d have to learn to use it. I can shoot a bow any day of the week but a crossbow? But no. A ‘request’ from a Lord Councilman of Pern is a polite way of saying “I order”.

“Should you see signs of activity, the person who is annotating must take good notes, data, even photos. You’re not there to enforce the law. You’re merely data collectors. My advice is to carry on with your task, leave the squatters alone, don’t try to find them, and submit the findings to the Council.

The Council will share the findings with Lords Toric and Dorn. In Toric’s case, it will be our job to make him understand that it’s in his best interest to accept your survey results. I’m betting my boots he knows he’s crossed his boundaries. When Toric learns where these people are, he’ll shove them out. That’s where Lord Dorn comes in-and dragonriders! Everyone need to be aware that those people will run only to settle somewhere else. They may go west, even though it’s now dragonland. There’s nothing out there to support a settlement. They’ll head east, crossing the Black Rock river, into the Stony Wastes, which of course, is Lord Dorn’s Hold.”

“Won’t they die out there?”

“Why would they?” K’ndar asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen it, of course! But it must be nothing but stones, right?”

K’ndar laughed. “The ‘Stony Wastes’ are neither. Lord Toric’s eastern Hold boundary is the Black River. On the eastern bank is the beginnings of the so called Stony Waste. It’s steppe, Risal. It goes east a very long way, ending at the Lay River. That’s all Lord Dorn’s hold, river and all. Cross the Lay and it turns into forests and very good farmland. Lord Dorn’s Singing Waters Hold is near that river.

The steppe itself runs south all the way to the foothills of the Eastern Range, where I grew up. That’s where Lord Dorn’s Hold ends. But the steppe continues on the southern side of the mountains, and reaches all the way to the Southern coast. It’s all wilderness out there, and now it’s dragonrider lands. We did an expedition, basing out of my family cothold. We took, what, months? to survey it. It’s BIG, even more so than even Toric’s hold. When we finally reached the southernmost coast, we found that last thirty kilometers or so was savanna, then coastal forest, then a very cold Southern Sea.”

“Why is it called Stony Waste, then?” Risal asked, thinking K’ndar had given her far more information than she needed.

“I don’t know. From the Yokohama’s point of view, it looks barren.

There’s so much of Southern continent that has never been explored, just mapped by the Yokohama. That’s her map we’re looking at,” D’nis said.

“Risal, I think it was called that to warn settlers off. It’s not farmland. It’s only suitable for grazing. It supports an awful lot of feral livestock and wildlife for dragons to hunt,” K’ndar said.

He didn’t say that he thought the steppe beautiful. Plain, yes, but she had so much understated majesty: the singing of the grassland birds, the vault of stars in the velvet night sky, the herds of horses, the insatiably curious pronghorns, the scent of air untouched by human activities, and the lions-yes, to him, the steppe was a paradise, one that demanded respect but provided a living, if you knew how to let the steppe call the steps of the dance.

“Maybe Toric saw it and thought it as useless?”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s why he accepted the Black Rock river as his eastern boundary. Piemur’s notes from his exploration did say the Stony Wastes were uninhabitable. In a way he was right. There’s not much water out there. You have to know what you’re doing to survive on the steppe, and the learning curve is steep,” K’ndar said. He remembered the Lemos ‘settlers’. They wouldn’t have lasted another month.

“But now he, well, now that our expedition showed that it IS useful, as grazing and hunting for dragons, now Toric will want that? Even knowing it’s Lord Dorn’s hold lands?”

“Maybe, maybe not. He’s greedy, but he’s far from stupid, Risal. Lord Dorn won’t let him just come in and take it. Toric isn’t a Fax and times have changed since those days. What he should do is work with the squatters, have them continue working the land as legitimate cotholders, ones who obey his rules and pay tithe.

It will be up to me and the council to edge him into the idea. He won’t take orders. I’ve learned that he has to believe it was his own idea in the first place.

So you must be diligent-and honest-in your data collection. The actual number of kilometers isn’t as important as insuring that you discern, correctly, what is Southern Hold and what is not.”

“Shards,” K’ndar gasped, “Will I have to meet Toric with this information? He’s been wanting to, uh, ”talk to me” for a long time. My gut tells me that his idea of a conversation is he’s doing all the talking to my head on a pike.”

“No, K’ndar, really?” Risal asked, fear gripping her chest. How had K’ndar made such a powerful enemy?

“He’ll have to go through me,” B’rost growled.

D’nis laughed, hoping it would break the somber mood.

“No. That’s my job, K’ndar.”

“What, beheading me?”

They roared as one.

“Nay, lad, it suits you just fine. No, allow me and the Council to handle Toric.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t you worry,” D’mitran said, to the rest, “It will be okay. Let’s just go out there, do our tasks, as Lord D’nis said, ignore the squatters as well as we’re able.”

They looked at each other. D’nis stood up and said, “Thank you for allowing me to sit in on your meeting. I am expected at Council.” They stood in respect.

“Right then,” K’ndar said, after D’nis had departed, “Let’s go, harness up the dragons and head out. We’ll go between to Big Lagoon and start there. Everybody has their equipment ready to go?”

“Yes, sir.” “Ready!” “All charged up, K’ndar.”

They heard running steps.

“Oh, stars, I’m glad you’re still here!”

It was Jansen, huffing and puffing from running. She paused in the open doorway, holding herself up with one arm. “I am so out of shape,” she wheezed.

“Hi, Jansen!”

K’ndar saw her odd expression. He reached over to touch the projector controls to shut it off.

“Leave it on, please, K’ndar? I’m so glad I caught you before you left. Please, won’t you sit down?”

“Um,” he thought. First the meeting had taken longer than he’d expected and now this?

“Please, K’ndar.”

They all sat down.

She heaved a big sigh.

“I owe you all an apology. But once you hear me out, I think you won’t mind.”

Now she had their undivided attention.

“You have been working so hard on training. So hard! I made up a schedule for your readings, and forms, all with the understanding that you would be taking data with the laser transit.”

They were silent. But their minds were racing.

“I will confess that, as often as I work with the database and that means every blinking day, still, there is much about it that I don’t know, or have never used.

Last night, I was working late, I had to access the Yokohama’s world wide map. She sees us all. Her resolution is incredible, she can almost read the datalink in your hand. She’s a few seconds behind real time, that is because the almost immeasurable time lag for the signal to get from your datalink, for instance, to her computers, process it, and then return the data.”

K’ndar began to fret, but held his peace. Jansen wasn’t known for wasting one’s time with nonsense.

“While I was working on it, I noticed a small icon I’d never used. I clicked on it, just out of curiosity. I’d never needed it before.”

She tapped at the projector controls. A brilliant green spot lit up the exact building they were in.

“This is where we all are at this very moment,” she said. “Now then, one of you pick a spot, a location, anywhere on Pern.”

“Cove Hold?” Risal was first.

“Good. Cove Hold.” Jansen moved a small arrow on the screen and hovered it over Cove Hold. A small box appeared overlaying the projected map with the coordinates. She clicked another icon and another box popped up, showing “78 kilometers, 290°”, accompanied by a glowing green line from the building to Cove Hold on the northern coast.

“It is seventy eight kilometers from where we are standing, to Cove Hold.”

Their jaws dropped.

She clicked it again and the lat long appeared. She clicked and drawings of the dragonstones appeared, inset in a little box on the lower right corner.

“It’s all there, all in one neat little package. Distance, degrees, lat long, dragonstones, cairns if they were entered into the database. And mind you, I’ve not fully dug down into what else she can tell me about it.”

K’ndar worked the idea in his head, but D’mitran was faster.

“Our datalinks can do this?”

“Yes, D’mitran, yes.”

“In the field?”

“Of course. If you have a datalink with a signal to the Yoke, you can get a distance from any one point to any other in anything from angstroms to light years. In seconds. Not days, not kilometers, all without so much as getting your boots covered in dew.”

“Whoa,” K’ndar said. Part of him was relieved, part of him exasperated.”I wish we’d known this before hand,” he said, then regretted it. Jansen’s face writhed.

“I know, K’ndar, I’m so sorry. You’ve wasted all this time, for nothing.”

“Sorry? Sorry? That means we don’t have to lug that bloody transit around?” B’rost said, “Or stand in swamp water up to my knees? I’m not sorry, I’m elated.”

“We won’t have to go bushwhacking?” Risal asked, her face hopeful.

“Correct. That’s why I’m so sorry, B’rost, all of you, because you’ve spent a week of your time training on a technology that is both unnecessary for this project and time consuming. Yes. You’ve wasted a week of your time and I am to blame,” she said, chagrined.

They all shook their heads in unison.

“No. No, Jansen, it’s okay,” D’mitran said. “Please. I personally am relieved, this should make our survey so much easier in one way. The datalink, can it annotate the findings?”

“Yes, yes, in fact, oh I am such a stupid! If you give me an hour? An hour? I’ll have the forms I gave you for pencil annotation inserted into the database, then instead of writing the data in, you can just type it in, and the database will automatically insert all the measurements. And I’ll show you all how to do it, so you don’t have to figure it out in the field.”

“I’m still going to do the writing annotation,” K’ndar said, “Remember what Elene says: Redundancy will save your arse, I mean data.”

She looked sorrowfully at K’ndar.

“K’ndar, I cannot tell you how remorseful I feel. And stupid.”

He gave her a hug. “It’s okay, J. You’re not stupid. We still have to go out and visually reaffirm the boundaries and collect landmarks. Thank you for this! Give me a minute to collect my wits, because part of my mind is jumping up and down in glee at the simplicity of it, and the other is saying, I learned how to do this for nothing? But that part, I shut it up, because, as my uncle Fland used to say, “Learn as much as you can for as long as you can.” I might not need to ever shoot an azimuth using the laser, but now I can honestly say I know how.”