Chap. 328 The Eggs

Chap. 328 1 The Eggs

Keep an eye out for the beast. I hope she returns.

She is watching from the steppe. She is crouching, I can just see her head above the grass. She blends in with the grass.

He took several pictures of the nest and the remains of the kills. Having learned to always carry sample bags, he also collected feces on the floor of the cave.

Then he paused, looking at the eggs. There were nine of them, larger than a fire lizard’s egg. Each one was about as large as his cupped hand. Should I take one? Two? I don’t want to take them all, should I even take any?

But how else will I learn what she is? Will they even hatch? What have I done?

When you entered the cave, she stood up and is lashing her tail. She is very angry.

He decided. He picked up two eggs. They were warm, and he could feel something under the soft, leathery shell. He tucked the two into his shirt, next to his belly, to keep them warm. If they were like typical saurian eggs, the shells would harden as the embryo developed, eventually turning brittle and easily broken.

From the entrance, he could see the animal, approaching slowly. He took several pictures of her, wondering if they’d be good enough to identify her.

She wasn’t afraid, that was clear.

She might attack me, he suddenly realized. Stuffing the camera into his backpack, he walked towards Raventh. When she saw him emerge from the cave, she picked up her pace. His heart kicked into high gear. She’s coming for me!

He wasted no time mounting Raventh. Siskin swirled over his head.

Launch, please?

Don’t let the eggs get pinched.

I won’t.

They were airborne. The beast came running back and stopped underneath them, looking up.

She is definitely intelligent, he thought. Feeling the warm lumps against his belly, he felt a surge of guilt. She can probably count, I’ve probably made an enemy of her. That’s not what I want. But I want to know what she is, and I don’t want to kill her to find out.

Raventh climbed high into the sky. He circled the kopje.

K’ndar hoped to see the beast return to the cave, but she sat and just stared at the circling dragon overhead.

Tell Siskin I’ll want him to come check on her to see if she’s returned to the eggs.

If she hasn’t?

He sighed. In for a berry, in for the pie, he thought.

I’ll come back and rescue the rest of the eggs. If she’s abandoned them because of my theft, I’ll be responsible.

And what will you do with the ones you took?

Yes. What shall I do. Will they survive between?

They’re saurian. Meaning, they need heat to continue to develop. I don’t want them to die.

Sandriss has hatching sands for his fire lizards. I hope he lets me leave them with him. If not, I’ll have to take them back to Landing.

Shall I fly there rather than go between? I’d like to, I need the work.

Yes, that’s a good idea.

___________________________________________________________

They were standing under the redtree in the center of his family cothold’s compound. His brother, Sandriss and his mother had greeted him. He saw Uncle Fland and a stranger walking towards them from a structure that was almost completed.

Sandriss coddled one of the leathery eggs, doubt suffusing his face.

“Um, I’m not really comfortable with putting these in my queen’s hatching sands,” he said.

“It wouldn’t be for long,” K’ndar countered, wondering if he sounded as if he were whining, “I don’t think they’re close to hatching.”

“But you don’t know what they ARE, K’ndar,” Sandriss said. He handed the egg back to K’ndar, who returned it to the spot next to his belly. He remembered the mother’s talons and her fangs, and felt trepidation. What if the things hatched next to his skin? Would he be eaten in mid flight?

Raventh laughed in his mind. I doubt it. They’re still soft. Once they harden, then they will hatch. It is this way with all of us.

She’s not a dragon.

But she is a ‘saurian’.

“You said the mother looks like a predator, right? This egg is twice the size that of a fire lizard. My queen hasn’t laid eggs yet, but I’d hate to have whatever beast is in these eggs hatch and eat her, or her eggs!”

Hearing him, Sandriss’s queen circled overhead, irking her irritation. Siskin had vanished when they landed, but re-appeared, rattling a battle cry as he swooped to interpose himself between the queen and K’ndar’s head. The bronze hissed and dove at him. For several seconds, the three fire lizards skirmished.

Sandriss whistled and his two fire lizards flew up into the redtree’s limbs.

“Siskin, to me!” K’ndar shouted to them. Siskin landed on his shoulder, his eyes orange.

“K’ndar, those beasts in the eggs, I don’t want them eating my chickens,” his mother warned.

“Mum,” he said, then gave up. Sandriss tried unsuccessfully to hide his reluctance. They were right.

“Okay. You’re right, I understand. I really do,” he said.

Fland and the stranger stopped.

“Understand what?”

Before Sandriss could say anything, K’ndar said, “I was out on the steppe. I’m on sabbatical, I thought I’d spend a few days in a cave I found when I was a kid. Remember when I’d take off to get away from Dad? I landed at the cave, but there was a beast living in it, one I’ve never seen before. She looked like a predator. She had this clutch of eggs. She wasn’t afraid of us, not even of Raventh. I took some pictures of her and then she fled, but only far enough to keep an eye on us. I took two of her eggs, thinking I’d hatch them out here, and see what they are.”

Siskin saw her return to her eggs Raventh said.

That was a relief, at least.

Fland nodded. “Why not take them to Landing? Don’t they have hatching sands there?”

“No, at least I don’t think so, but, it IS right atop a thermal vent, it’s how the water is heated, as well as the quarters. What I’m worried about is if they will survive the trip back to Landing if I go between.”

“As far as I know, only human embryos die in between. I’m not sure about livestock,” Fland said, “I don’t think anyone has ever transported a pregnant cow by dragon.” He grimaced.

It still hurts him, after spending most of his life without his dragon, K’ndar thought. I hope I never survive losing Raventh.

After an uncomfortable silence, Fland said, “Oh, sorry. K’ndar, this is Cord. Cord, this is my nephew, K’ndar. He’s a dragonrider as well as a staff member of Landing.”

K’ndar shook his hand.

The man smiled. “I believe I’ve seen you before, K’ndar. Weren’t you at the Ruatha races last Turn?”

It took a moment for K’ndar to realize the man was still using the archaic term for year. Most of Pernese had switched without problems. He must be a Wanderer, he thought. Or Holdless, but he doesn’t act like he’s Holdless. “I was, along with my little sister. I don’t remember meeting you.”

“You didn’t. I was handling our racers. We had several in the races. You met my uncle. He told you to bet on a filly named Sunrise in the 3 Kilometer. I hope you did?”

K’ndar grinned. “I did. I confess I had no idea what betting entailed, as I’ve never had much money, but-yes, I did take his advice and didn’t she come through!”

Cord smiled. “Thank you. He doesn’t often talk to you Pern folk, but you’d done one of my people a good turn, and as he probably said, we like to repay our debts. And I’ll admit to boasting, for she earned it-she was the best horse in that race!”

His family looked curiously at him. I’ll tell that story at a later date when I don’t have eggs in my belly, he thought. “It was my pleasure, Cord. He bought Lord Jaxom’s bay gelding? The one who threw the race?”

“He did. We swapped the filly who won the race for Lord Jaxom’s runner, who didn’t. He was a handful, wasn’t he! He’s a proper sod under saddle, but he’ll trot all day in harness. I’d say both parties were satisfied with the um, transaction.”

“How is it, uh..” In his limited experience with Wanderers, K’ndar hadn’t met one as open as Cord. Normally they kept their interactions with the rest of non wanderers to a minimum.

“Why am I, a Wanderer, here?” Cord laughed. “A trader, Fire Lizard Man, told us you had a team of oxen for sale or barter.”

“Lizard! Is there anything or anybody he doesn’t know?” K’ndar said.

Sandriss laughed. “I don’t think so.

K’ndar remembered the team of oxen that had been left to his brother by a couple of wannabe settlers.

“If they’re the ones I’m thinking of,” he started, “You’ll be getting as good a team as any my family have bred, and we breed the best.”

Fland interrupted. “They are. The very same. We’ve put weight back on them, their feet are healed up, and Cord, here, and his crew are erecting the windmill as barter.”

“Oh! I though D’mitran was going to come out and build it?”

Sandriss shook his head. “He’s been busier than a one legged man in an arse kicking contest. Begging your pardon, Fland.”

The older man looked rueful, but softened it with a chuckle. “I didn’t lose it, Sand. Just buggered it up in the fall.”

Cord looked at them, wondering. This is family, he thought, and like us, they keep these things to themselves. There are two dragonriders here, this K’ndar, and Fland, who carries himself as if he were a dragonrider, but no dragon? But I won’t ask.

“You said something about a strange beast? You have eggs?”

K’ndar nodded. “I’ve never seen the beast in my life, and I grew up here, Cord.”

“Where did you see it?”

“On the steppe, about forty klicks from here. I got some pictures of her.”

“Pictures? You drew her?”

“No, I photo-ed her with a camera. I’ll show you.”

He shrugged Siskin off his shoulder. The blue fire lizard flew up into the branches of the tree, the spat with Sandriss’s pair forgotten.

Feeling a bit of a showoff, he withdrew both camera and datalink from his backpack and put the two back to back.

beedleeep! the datalink said.

Cord backed up, surprised.

“That’s a?”

“This is the camera, and this is a datalink. It talks to the starship,” he said, trying to cut a lengthy explanation to a short sentence.

“Ah. Yes, I have heard of datalink. But I’ve never seen one, or a camera.”

It was odd, he thought, that I’m so used to it, now, that there’s still a huge part of Pern that has never seen a datalink and probably never will. And they still get on just fine.

He thumbed the datalink awake.

Data acquired. Display subject? it said.

He touched ‘yes’.

“It…talks?” Cord said, amazed.

“Well, yes. Not only can I talk to people with datalinks, like you and I talking here, but in this case, the datalink asked me if I want it to show the pictures I took with the camera.”

“Oh,” Cord mumbled, trying to look less than clueless.

The pictures of the nest and the cave appeared. He forwarded it to what he hoped was a decent picture of the beast.

Everyone crowded around, til he raised it up and showed it.

“Oh,” Daryat said, “It’s big, big as a dog. Look at those stripes! It’s beautiful!”

“Aye. I’m surprised I got as good a picture as this, I was in a hurry. See, here, she’s coming at me. Oh, good, I got a good shot of her sideways, see those talons? When she leaped at Siskin, she reached for him, those claws are like scythes! You can’t see her tail too well, but it’s long, like a cheetah’s. And she ran almost as fast as one! When she came back, she stopped right underneath Raventh as we circled. You could see her thinking.”

“What is it?” Sandriss asked.

“I have no idea, which is why I took the eggs. If I can hatch them out, we can figure that out.”

Cord hid his astonishment at seeing a photo for the first time in his life.

Then something deep, deep in his mind tingled. He invited it in. A song. A song from his great greats? Oh.

“I think I know what it might be,” he said. The others looked at him, surprised.

“My people,” he started, “When we first landed here, when we finally were given our horses, our cattle, my people scattered. We were afraid your people would make us move again. So some of us moved onto the steppe. None of your people wanted it, and we liked it. We had our caravans and our beasts. They grew fat on the grass. Then Thread came. It didn’t hurt the steppe, but it killed us. We learned too late that only stone over our heads would save us. So those of us who survived, left the steppe, forever. Once again, we had been forced to move, but this time, not by people.

But before we were forced off the steppe, we were out there long enough to learn that there were beasts that no one had ever seen before. Every once in a while, beasts would come silently in the night and take our calves, our foals, even our dogs.”

He stopped and began to hum, very softly.

K’ndar and his family watched as Cord’s eyes closed. His lips began to move, whispering words in rhythm. He began to nod as his memory dug up a tune so ancient it no longer had a name.

He opened his eyes and looked at the picture again. “Yes. Yes. I think I know what she is, we had a song, so old, so very old, from the First Days. I don’t even know why I know the song, we don’t sing it any longer.”

“Let’s hear it, ” Daryat encouraged.

“Um, I don’t sing so well,” he said, “and I only remember a part of it.”

“Ha! You’ve never heard me sing, and you won’t ever. I have hoppers come to mate when I sing,” K’ndar laughed.

Cord began to sing, softly, “…razor clawed and rudder tailed, striped one hunts the lame and frail. Pen the oxen at falling light, Susi runs in packs at night.”

He turned to them as if seeing them for the first time.

“That’s a teaching song, I heard it once or twice as a kid, from a great great GREAT grandmum. And she said, we don’t have to sing this anymore, and I didn’t understand why.

This beast, K’ndar? I have never seen one, but I think it’s a susi. I bet on it. Out on the steppe, no one thought there was a danger. There were only a few wherries, then. At night, we would lose one beast, two. We began to put up a night watch, and one night, someone killed this beast, and said his people on Earth called it a susi. We believed they were the killers. So we killed the killers. We trained our dogs to search out their dens, and we would crush their eggs. Only after they were all gone did we realize we’d made a big mistake. By killing them off, we allowed other beasts, especially the wherries, to gain in numbers. They ate off their normal prey and learned that calves and foals are easy. Now we don’t dare leave our beasts out at night because the wherries have learned cattle, especially, are easy prey. We thought we’d completely killed off the susi. I don’t think we’ve seen one in over two thousand years.”

He nodded at the picture.

“What we did was wrong. I am glad that we didn’t kill them all.”