Chap. 399 Part 1 The Switch

Maintenance Division Chief Orlon: Scheduled tasking change. Incognito shutdown is in force as of 0500 this morning. Defer location and repair of water line leakage. You are directed to open building #1632 Galileo immediately. This order takes precedent over all other scheduled maintenance procedures.

Not again! Orlon almost shouted. This is the eighth time Admin has arbitrarily shoved this ugly job on my division. We do maintenance, not excavations!  Does Evvelin understand that ‘opening a building’ isn’t as simple as opening a door? How is it Engineering manages to skip out on back breaking tasks like this? Prying twenty five hundred years of solidified volcanic ash off the sides and top of a building isn’t ‘opening’, it’s excavation. Does she even know what’s inside? Last time we did this we spent a week of hard labor opening a building, only to find that the roof had collapsed underneath the weight of the ash and destroyed everything inside, thousands of ceramic plates and mugs. All that work for nothing.

He sighed, wondering how he was going to present the change to his team without having a mutiny.  I don’t have the bollocks to go and protest to Admin Chief. She scares the hair off my head. Damn it.

It’s strange, Raylan thought, the shutdown hasn’t affected operations, at least here at Landing. I still have electricity and running water in my quarters and my computer still works. It’s just the datalinks are down across the planet, and will be for awhile. I can still send a message to someone with a computer terminal here at Landing. Push comes to shove, I can have Motanith transmit a message to any weyr on the planet.

It was like this before we had datalinks. Quiet. We could get work done without an electronic nuisance bending one’s elbow demanding attention. It was peaceful. I have no idea though how people contacted each other before datalinks. Runners? It was before my time.

 “Excuse me, Chief,” Jansen came into his office. He immediately knew she had bad news-she never used that tone of voice except when things were getting shitty.

The peaceful feeling vanished like smoke.

“Good morning, Jansen. You sound worried.”

“Worried? No. Furious is more like it, and it’s not even 0630,” she said. “I just got a message from Engineering, complaining that P’jar is quote, “late to work site 7000 block Regulus.”

“What?”

“It’s on my computer screen, please look at it and tell me I’m not mistaken.”

He moved to her work terminal. She pointed at the message on her monitor. “This is NOT what I posted to our division’s duty roster last night.”

“P’jar is standby for dragon transport today!” Raylan protested.

“Yes! I know, the minute Admin posted the duty roster last night, I posted it on ours. It showed K’ndar working with Maintenance on water lines, not a word about P’jar.”

Raylan read the message out loud, baffled. “Now she’s got two of my team working on a water line? What is Admin doing? This is NOT right. P’jar’s on dragon standby!”

He tried to make sense of it. “There’s no report of a glitch in the database? The shutdown kicked in at zero five hundred. Is this related? I don’t know how it can be, this is data, not communications. Datalinks send to the starship, our computers don’t.”

“Maybe it is a glitch. But Data would have warned us,” Jansen said.

“K’ndar reported when?”

“He pinged my computer, saying he’d got up early to meet with Orlon, at the Maintenance shop.  And something I just noticed, boss, this message? There’s no time stamp on it, or initials.”

Raylan read and reread the message. There’s something rotten here, he thought, and it’s not fish.

Jansen began to sweat. “Boss, I KNOW what I posted last night. I KNOW it. I don’t make mistakes like this. I tried backtracking the original duty roster posted last night, but it’s vanished.”

She was insulted. This is my job, I’m GOOD at it. This isn’t my fault, it’s driving me barmy, she thought. Did someone sneak in after hours and tamper with my station? But no. I’ve trained Turing to make note of anyone else using my terminal. It would have made a notification of any sort of usage. But maybe with the shutdown, something went buggy?

“I’ll check on another computer in our division, to see if just somehow mine deleted the..” she said, her fingers poised over her keyboard.

“Wait,” Raylan said, putting a hand on her arm, “Leave it. Save it.  This doesn’t just happen. Don’t let that message vanish. It’s not on my computer. You don’t make this stuff up, this isn’t any fault of yours. My gut tells me there’s something smelly here. You’re not to blame.”

His words of trust solaced her. Which was completely destroyed when a voice, dripping scorn, said “Well, someone is, and it’s her.”

They turned to see a man, his expression one of victorious contempt, his fists on his hips. His badge said “Engineering”.

“It’s a pity when I have to walk half way across Landing to remind your staff to report for a tasking,” he snapped.

Raylan recalled seeing the man from Engineering, but that division was enormous, far larger than his relatively small crew of scientists.

“Blame? ME? Who are you?” Jansen asked, immediately loathing the man.

“You don’t ask me questions, technician. It’s apparent that you aren’t capable of reading a simple duty roster. P’jar is scheduled to work repairing a water line and he’s late. We’ve been waiting for half an hour for him to get his arse out of bed and to work. This will not look good on our report to Admin.”

“WHAT?” she shouted, jumping to her feet. Raylan held up his hand, more to keep himself from punching the lout-or perhaps to beat Jansen to it.

“You don’t tell me or my staff what to do,” he snapped, “You don’t walk into my division without even a hello my name is. You don’t tell me how and where I direct my personnel. P’jar is my staff, and he’s not doing any of your work. You’re an uncivil jerk and if anyone needs to talk to Admin, it’s your division chief about firing you. Now get out of my office and crawl back under that rock you slithered out from under.”

The man smirked. “No problem. You’re refusing to obey a tasking? Stand by for an important message,” he sneered, and left.

“Who was that? What an arsehole!” Jansen shouted, so angry she couldn’t bear it.

“He’s lucky I left my dagger at home,” Raylan said, trying to keep his temper. “Come on, let’s go to my office, maybe the original post is somewhere on my computer.”

It’s not even seven and the shutdown is already causing problems, he thought, but this can’t be blamed on electronics. It can’t.

Jansen, normally unflappable, was almost in tears. How dare that jerk!

“Chief,” she started.

He saw the dismay in her eyes. “Jan. It’s okay. I’m going to bring this up with Admin. Have you seen P’jar yet?”

“Chief, he’s as punctual as K’ndar. I know he read the duty roster, we all know he was slated for dragon standby, but I’m betting he got this phony message the same time I did. And just like K’ndar, he didn’t question it. He trusts me.”

“Except for this time, Chief,” P’jar said behind them. “You’re right, Jansen, I DO trust you to be right, and yes, I did get that snotnosed message, without a lick of explanation of the change. My computer pinged me informing me that I was late to tasking working on repairing a water line. I knew right away that something was wrong, I know it’s not your doing, Jansen. I’m scheduled for dragon standby today.”

“You were, but suddenly, you’ve been reassigned by someone without clearing it with me to work on a water line. I can’t not have you on standby. I don’t know who that jerk was that just left, but I will find out, and I will ream his arse when I do so. He doesn’t tell you or anyone in my division what to do,” Raylan snarled.

His computer pinged. He glanced at it, then his blood ran cold.

“Shards, this is from Lord D’nis of COUNCIL.”

Science Division Chief Raylan: due to inattention to daily communications regarding tasking, this is a reminder that your staff member, P’jar, is scheduled to work with Engineering on a water line. He must report to the team leader immediately. In the future, please insure your personnel read the duty roster on a daily basis. C of 6

Jansen shouted at the insolent message on her screen. “INATTENTION??” That tone of voice! Inattention??”

“WHAT THE SHAFF?” Raylan said, “COUNCIL is reminding me? My arse. I’m going to Admin,” he shouted and headed for the door.

“Sir, don’t shout at Evvelin, you know how she…” Jansen said, but it was too late. Raylan RAN out of the office.

P’jar looked at her.

“Well, First?” P’jar said, using the seaman’s term that meant second in command on ships.

She shook her head, so angry she couldn’t speak.

“I don’t know, P’jar. I don’t know what to tell you. Ordinarily I’d say to tell them to go bag their arse, but you don’t say that to the Council.”

“This is nonsense, but I’ll obey. I’m heading for Engineering right now.”

“P’jar,” she started, “I’m sorry…”

He put his hands up to forestall her apology. “Jansen. You don’t apologize for actions you have no control over. It’s not your fault, not Raylan’s fault. I smell a dead fish here, but for now, duty calls.”

___________________________________________________________

“I’m not complaining,” K’ndar said, “but sir, the duty roster said I was supposed to help you on finding a leaky water line. But now we’re ‘opening a building”?

Maintenance Chief Orlon felt his fury rebuilding. “That was the plan, yes, K’ndar, and this morning, AFTER the duty roster was posted, I had a message saying that we’re supposed to ‘open’ this building IMMEDIATELY.”

Jorge, one of his team, flourished a fist in anger. “This isn’t the first time Admin has done this to us. This is Engineering’s domain, not ours, but somehow they manage to finagle their way out of it and dump it on us.”

“Yeah, like eight times, or is it nine? in the last two years,” Darnell grumbled.

K’ndar looked at the building. It was completely encased in solidified volcanic ash. “What’s in this thing?”

“Haven’t a clue. After we’ve done all the heavy work, Engineering will saunter in, do an ‘evaluation’ and then report it as if they did all the work.”

“No, Chief, they DO do something, I saw one of their louts sweep the threshold into the building as they were entering it for the first time. Ta da, all done!” Danno said.

——————————————————————————–

I hope I never have to do work like this again, K’ndar thought. I don’t know what’s worse, the slow process or this damned mask I’m wearing.

Being that he had been tasked to help, K’ndar had been assigned to loading, transporting, then unloading the pieces of ash to the dump via horse drawn cargo wagon.  The dump site was on the far edge of Landing. The job, by its nature, allowed him to take breaks, ones that the team didn’t take.

I just hope they don’t think I’m dawdling while I do so, he thought. The load is heavy and I won’t whip a horse that’s doing it’s best. My shoulders are killing me but I won’t say a word. I don’t know his men very well, but they’ve treated me with respect. And Orlon has always been a fair and kind boss.

Twice, after returning from the dumpsite, he unhitched and hobbled the horse and picked up a pry bar to help.

“Are you sure it’s wise to unhitch the horse?” Jorge asked, “He might run off.”

“No, it would be cruel to keep him harnessed for hours. He’s a good horse. He has no reason to run off, this grass is up to his knees and it’s all for him. I told him to stay. He will.”

“Okayyyyy,” Jorge said, disbelieving. When he runs off, I won’t be chasing after him. 

K’ndar smiled inwardly. I won’t tell him that’s my cothold’s brand on his hip. I don’t remember him so he must have been trained and sold when I was a tot, but that’s okay. I know how dad trained our horses. He’ll stay.

 “You don’t have to do this work, K’ndar, you’re not required,” Orlon had started, but K’ndar glared.

“No way, Orlon. Sorry, but I can’t just sit on the wagon seat watching you prying the ash off a building. Give me a place to work when I’m not moving the ash. I might not work as fast as you all, but I’ll do my best to do my part.”

Orlon had sent him to the other end of the building. K’ndar felt, more than saw, the team’s silent approval of his volunteering.

The tools were heavy iron and had never been intended for such work. The ash came off in pieces, small and yet extremely heavy. The rest of the team produced twice as many hunks of ash as he did. The powdery ash that was dislodged in the process was adhesive to skin and clothing-and dangerous to inhale. His arms and shoulders were aching after the first hour of work.

He remembered Siskin’s reaction to seeing the mask on his face. The blue had freaked, thinking it was attacking K’ndar. He tried to calm him, but Siskin had fluttered around his head, so distraught he was unreachable.

He’d been forced to insist that Siskin stay with Raventh.

Tell him it will not hurt me, the mask is to keep me from breathing the ash. Tell him to stay away, the ash will hurt him he asked Raventh.

I will. It DOES look like something is eating your face.

I hate this mask, he thought, I can’t breathe right, it’s fogging up the eyepieces and I’m salivating. But the others are wearing them without complaint.

“I know,” Orlon had said as he fitted the mask to K’ndar’s face, “It’s a nasty thing to wear this, but, K’ndar, the ash is sharp. If it gets in your eyes, it will blind you. If it gets into your lungs it will kill you.”

“Slowly,” added Jorge, “If that happens you end up with silicosis, it’s where your lungs solidify with the ash. I think. It’s also called blacklung, my great grandfather died of that after working in the blackstone mines without a mask.”

He stopped to look at the work he’d accomplished. It wasn’t much, despite his best efforts. This damned building must be growing, he thought. We’ve been at it for three hours and haven’t made more than a dent.

Jorge and Darnell were both working on the sides of the building, and Orlon on the street, smaller end, hoping to find an entry door. Danno had climbed a rickety ladder to the roof and was gently and carefully tapping it with a rod. There wasn’t a flat spot on the roof that he could see from the ground.

While the wagon was designed to tip, allowing the load to slide out, the mechanism hadn’t been lubricated in many years. Thus, cranking it up took all his strength (accompanied by earsplitting shrieks from the ancient  mechanism) and in order to get the bed to drop, he was forced to climb up into the bed and jump. On the second trip to the dump, the bed refused to lift and he’d been forced to shove the hunks of ash out of the bed, piece by piece. Sweeping it clean merely raised large clouds of killer dust. His coveralls showed him sweating like a horse, to which the ash clung like glue. 

“Won’t lift, eh?” Orlon said, “No surprise there. The stable master is supposed to maintain it. But it’s plain he’s neglected to do so. Maybe it’s because he can’t lube it when the last person to use it “forgot” (he used his fingers to make quotes) to empty it and sweep it clean. At lunch, we’ll take it to the shop and lube it, but, looking at the cranking mechanism, it’s so badly rusted I’m thinking it’s about to break.”

“The axles are shot, too, boss,” Jorge said.

 Orlon looked at them and nodded. “Aye. Who knows how old this thing is, or when it was last serviced.”

K’ndar gulped. “What do we do if the axles break?”

“Then,” Darnell growled, “We’ll have to do what we did in the past when this schweening job got dumped on us. Transport all these fallen hunks of ash to the dump by handcart or wheelbarrow.”

The team groaned. “That adds days,” Jorge said. “And they’re wanting this opened immediately? Shite.”

“Let’s take a break,” Orlon called, “we’ve been going at it hammer and tongs for three hours.” He motioned to go upwind of the building.

Danno climbed down from his work station atop the convex roof of the building.

They sat down in the shade of the wagon and removed their masks. K’ndar gratefully followed suit, feeling the air cold and clean on his sweating face. He resisted the urge to wipe his face. The sleeves of the coveralls were covered with a fine layer of ash.

“Well, what do you think, K’ndar?” Orlon asked.

“Of this job? It’s the hardest work I’ve ever done in my life, I think,” he said.

 Danno, Darnelle and Jorge all laughed.

“And here we thought you dragonriders had it rough.”

Unsure of whether the remark was hazing or innocently meant, K’ndar decided on the latter and made it a joke.

“Huh”, he said. “Riding a dragon is easy, it’s like riding a flying horse except that you can talk to each other. It was fighting Thread that was tough.”

“Oh, yeah,” Danno said, sobering, “I bet it was scary.”

“Scary? Nah, ‘scary’ doesn’t do it justice. It was piss your pants terrifying,” K’ndar said, his tone somber. “I was always afraid. I wouldn’t even eat before a thread fight, otherwise I’d throw it up just from fear. That stuff coming down like rain, the slightest breeze blew it everywhere but down, the wind shifts and it’s coming at your eyes like they were archery targets. If it lands on you it burns its way through your leather jacket and when it gets to your skin, keeps on burning until between kills it.”

 They groaned, all of them having grown up during Thread fall.

“It hisses, too, you can hear it coming even with all the dragons flaming.” He shook his head. “Anyone who tells you they weren’t afraid while fighting Thread is a liar,” he said.

“Or dead,” Danno added.

“Or worse, blinded, like Grafton,” Darnell said. “Every time I see that man’s face my stomach turns.”

K’ndar involuntarily touched the scar on his wrist. Somehow, in his second or third Thread flight, a filament of Thread managed to find its way under the cuff of his riding glove and began to devour the skin.

At the same time, Raventh had roared in pain as thread scored his hindquarters. He’d writhed in agony, so violently that, had he not been harnessed in, K’ndar would have come off. Raventh went between to kill the filaments, but the pain of their wounds was like that from a white hot coal, continuing until they landed in the dragonbowl and slathered numbweed on them. I have never been so grateful for numbweed in my life, he thought.

And the green dragon who saved us Raventh said.

Yes.

I’ll never forget the green dragon who raced up over our heads and flamed the whole cloud that had hurt us. She was so close her claws barely cleared Raventh’s wings. She was elsewhere when we came out of between. I never did find out who was riding her. But I do know I will always, always love green dragons and the women riding them, for their dauntless courage, their blinding speed, and utter devotion to anyone who flew alongside them. 

We were both hurt, I wasn’t paying attention Raventh said, apologetically.

It wasn’t your fault. And you got burned on your hindquarters.

I never learned to shoot flames from my tail.

K’ndar stifled an audible laugh.

He looked at Danno.  “Speaking of scary jobs, Danno, I wouldn’t want to be the one walking on that roof. From here it looks as if there’s not a level spot, yet you walk like it was smooth as granite.”

Danno shrugged, privately pleased at the compliment.

“Aye, it’s not a walk on the strand, K’ndar. But Orlon seems to think I’m capable of it.”

Orlon chuckled. “Danno’s not what he appears to be, K’ndar. He’s half quorl, don’t you know, he can climb and cling like one. He has the most incredible sense of balance I’ve ever seen in a human.”

“Don’t talk like that, boss, it’ll give Danno a big head,” Darnell said.

K’ndar felt uncomfortable, not sure if it was hazing or joking.

“Just what do you do up there?” he asked, hoping to deflect anger.

Danno tossed his head in derision at Darnell’s remark.

“I am feeling how the ash reacts to my weight. I’m looking to see if the ash has started to break up on its own, that makes the job of opening much faster. If I see a fracture, I’ll tap it to see if it’s thin enough for me to break it, and then it all shatters, like an egg, and you on the ground had better jump back because it’s going to come down wooosh! right atop your head, hardhat or not. Iffen you don’t listen to me, you’ll end up like Darnell there, got hit with a bit of ash no bigger’n your thumb and the one brain cell he had ended up in his arsehole.”

Darnell flipped him off with a laugh. K’ndar felt the relaxation in their voices. These weren’t enemies, this was teasing amongst bonded friends.

“That, and I am looking for the outlines of solar panels. Mostly, though, I’m feeling the ash. It talks to me. Sometimes I know it’s thin and will be easy to clear, sometimes it’s thick and a bugger. But most of all, I’m wary, is it going to collapse? Because sometimes, after the ash solidified, the roof underneath it collapses, we can’t see it, then it’s like an egg without the yolk inside. If I step on it, it’s going to break right under my feet.”

“Oh, damn,” K’ndar said, shivering.

“Yeah, Danno, he’s a showoff, you know?” Darnell said, “He drives me crazy, tapping away with his stick, we’re down here working and he’s taking in the view. But there’s not a man I don’t trust more’n Danno. Because first time I was ever atop a building like this, Danno saved my arse, grabbed me by the belt as a hole opened up right under my feet. If it weren’t for him, I would have fallen in and broke my neck. So he might be quorlly but he’s a good ‘un, and I’ll trust him over anyone else on Pern.”

There was a long moment of silence, everyone reflecting on how dangerous Danno’s job was, and how they all depended on each other.

“What did you do before you Impressed?” Jorge asked, breaking the solemnity. “Because you say this is hard work to you, but I’ve not seen you back off or whinge, not once.”

“That’s why I asked for him, mates,” Orlon said. “I know K’ndar. I’ve seen him do some hard work, yes, not this, but still, he’s not afraid of getting dirty.”

“Not like those shiteheads in Engineering, shucking this job off on us AGAIN,” Jorge growled.

“Yeah,” Darnell said, easing the crick in his back. Damn it, Orlon, he thought, you don’t have the balls to get into Admin’s face and demand to know why this keeps happening.

But he said nothing. I won’t cut off my nose to spite my face, he thought. These blokes are more my brothers than my milk brothers. My family has a good place to live with amenities that my kin in their caverns can’t even comprehend. My kids are in school in the mornings, and learning a trade in the afternoon. I get paid to do a job that might be hard work, but I work with good honest men.

“I guess Engineering yobs are too tender, you know? Might break a fingernail doing something like this,” Jorge sneered.

“Unlike us schmoes, having to wear coveralls, and hardhats and these damned masks,” Darnell said.

“Can’t have them getting a bit of ash on their shirts, y’know?” Orlon grumbled. “The ash gets into everything. K’ndar, when we get back to the shop, you’ll take off your coveralls FIRST, hang them on the line set up for them, and then go upwind and only then unmask.”

“Yes, sir,” K’ndar said. I wish it was time NOW to go back for the day, he thought.

“Okay, so I asked you earlier, what did you do before Impression?” Darnell asked, expecting K’ndar to say something like ‘weaver’ or ‘crafter’. Something easy and indoors.

“I grew up on the steppe, about three days ride from here,” K’ndar said, wishing he could take off the protective gear for good. “We bred, raised and trained draft and riding horses, oxen, cattle and steers for tithe to Lord Dorn.”

“Huh. How many cattle?”

“Oh, thirty to fifty, usually. We had one bull and his cows.”

“Just the one bull?”

“Yes.”

“Not more? Why? I’d think your Holder would want a big tithe.”

K’ndar laughed. “Why? Bulls don’t believe in sharing. Nor can they count.  They want as many cows as possible, and will steal the harem from another bull if they can, and that means fighting. A bull fight isn’t pretty, and it’s not unheard of that one is killed. Our cattle are tough. They have to be to survive predators like giant wherries and lions. Never mind that one harem will have twenty or thirty cows, and one bull with twice that many-well, let’s just say he wears out, trying to keep them all together-and pregnant.”

The men laughed.

“Do they live near you?”

“Only in the winter, otherwise, they’re out on the steppe all three seasons.”

“You bring them in for the winter? Why?”

“Several reasons.  One, it’s to train the foals to ride or drive-our horses go out with them, too, and we start handling the calves we’re going to sell or tithe as oxen. The beasts spend all spring and summer out on the steppe, but in late summer, the grass goes dormant. You don’t want them overgrazing the steppe, and they’ll wander if they can’t find good graze.”

“You said one, there’s other reasons?” Jorge asked.

“Aye, we separate the calves from their mums to wean them, we castrate the bull calves to make steers and oxen. My cothold always reserved half a dozen pastures to keep them over in the winter, cattle first, then horses. By springtime those pastures are all grazed to the ground, but by then, the steppe is growing again.”

“Huh,” Jorge admitted,“I had no idea. I thought, well, this is dumb, I guess, but I thought that they were born with brands, like spots on a cheetah.”

K’ndar laughed. “That would make life as a herder so much easier,” he said.

“Don’t the calves run away?

“They try, but we put them in a corral, with a pen at one end. They are scared, they miss their mums, so they all group into a herd.”

“And how to they get into the pen?”

“We drive each calf into the pen and rope them. Your horse puts tension on the rope, I jump off the horse, grab the calf, put it flat on its side, tie its legs together and then we ‘work’ them. We brand on the left side, the bull calves lose their manhood, we slather numbweed on the branding site and let the calf go. They always jump back up and run right back to the calf herd. On a good day we can do twenty calves.”

The men were astonished.

“I’m sorry, K’ndar. I’ve seen how big a calf gets. And you grab one and put it on the ground? Just you?” Darnell said. 

“Yes. And they weigh about the same as a pony, they’ve been on good milk and grass for six months.”

Darnell shook his head in amazement. “Then I apologize, K’ndar, for even thinking you had an easy life, like some Holder’s son.”

K’ndar shook his head. “No need to apologize. I’d rather rope a hundred calves then do this job for a living.”

They all shouted their agreement.

Orlon twisted his neck to get the kink out of it. He ran his hand through the grass.  Despite the work, it’s a lovely day, he thought. The grass was lush and almost violently green. “Speaking of grass, look at this stuff,” he said, seeing a future task that no one at Landing had considered yet.  “Used to be, Thread kept this grass under control. But now, thanks to you dragonriders, K’ndar, Thread’s gone, and the grass is growing fast.”

“I have a mark,” Darnell said, “that says, one of these days, someone in Admin is going to say, oh, look at this unsightly grass, Maintenance, take some scissors and cut it down.”

“Yeah, but may be not,” Jorge said, “Look at the horse. He’s eating his head off. Just put the horses out on it, they’ll keep it down.”

“Okay, lads, let’s get back to work. Before you go up, Danno, what are you feeling up there, what’s the ash telling you?” Orlon said, unhappily.

They got to their feet and re-masked.  K’ndar reluctantly replaced his, abhorring the feel of the damp leather on his face, the musty smell that no carbon filter could stop. I hate this thing, he thought.

“Chief,” Danno said, his trepidation obvious despite the mask, “I don’t like it. It’s not like any of the other roofs I’ve walked on, although they’re always a bit different. This one, Chief, well, it walks as if it were a ship’s hull, upside down. There’s a ridge running right down the middle, something I’ve never seen before. It’s more sloped than normal and boss, it’s, um, springy.”

“Springy?”

“Bouncy. If it were ice I’d say it was so thin it’s about to break. The ash is solidified but still, it gives underneath my weight, it feels as if something underneath it is barely holding it up. I’m not going back up.”

“Like it wants to collapse? You stay down here, Danno. I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Orlon said. This may be my way out of this schweening that Engineering has once again passed on to me and my team. Sorry, but we can’t do it. Too dangerous.

“So no betting this time? I remember that last building, you had the spot within minutes and broke it all to pieces with two hammer blows. You cost me a mark, lout,” Darnell said, glaring dramatically at Danno.

“How did that work?” K’ndar asked.

“Ah, we bet on how many blows it takes to get the ash to shatter,” Jorge said. “Last time we got stuck with this job, I bet two blows against Darnell’s three.”

“And Danno goes and hits it twice just to spite me,” Darnell sighed.

“You pissed me off,” Danno smirked, “So I got even.”

Darnell shoved him. Danno laughed and swung at him without coming close. 

“Does it always shatter? How do you know where to hit?”

“Most of the time, but not always,” Danno said. “It’s, well, I just know, you know? If feels, like it would feel like walking on an egg that’s been damaged but you don’t know where the weak spot is. But you feel it with your fingers and if you hit it right, the whole thing shatters.”

“Did you, um, were you taught that?” K’ndar asked.

“No and yes. I grew up in the far north. The lakes and rivers freeze up in the winter, and once they do you can move right over them, you can even ride a horse over the ice to the other side rather than going all the way round. But right after winter solstice, when the sun comes back, it makes the ice all, um, rotten, we say. Solstice ice is deceptive. It’s thin in some spots and solid in others, and if you can’t feel the difference, you break through and into the water. Once that happens you can’t get out, because the ice breaks under your arms when you’re trying to haul out and there’s nothing to grab on to.”

K’ndar shivered despite his sweating in the coveralls.

“And then, if you don’t get help, you die from hypothermia, and it takes, oh, maybe ten minutes? And all the time you’re trying desperately to get out, you’re soaking wet in ice water, getting heavier and heavier. You can’t feel your blood freezing. You stop shivering and then you just don’t care anymore.”

He went silent for a moment. “My brother died that way,” he said, “he sneaked out of the cavern after we were all supposed to be asleep. The next morning, well, instead of him being at breakfast, he was neck deep in the river, froze solid.”

“Oh, no. My condolences, Danno,” K’ndar said.

The man shrugged. “He always was the rebellious one, always crowding the foul line, testing my folk’s rules.  He was always sassing mum and one word shy of my father having to clout him for being a shit. He knew he wasn’t supposed to go to the river, but that was him, y’know? Knew better than anyone.”

He shook his head. “It was a good lesson to the rest of us.”

“Why would you go out on the ice at any time?” K’ndar said, just the idea of freezing in water making him shiver.

“It’s faster to go across when it’s all frozen than the long way around. That, and we fish all winter long.”

“How in the world do you fish on ice?”

“You cut a hole in the ice, put in a line with some bait, and catch ‘em,” Danno said as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

K’ndar was disbelieving, but he knew better than to sneer. “The best way to learn anything is to keep your ears open and your mouth shut,” his uncle Fland had taught him, and it had usually proven true.

“By the way,” Danno said, glad to have a way of easing the sting of the memory, “I see someone coming.”

He pointed at the man coming towards them with shovels on his shoulder.

“Any idea who it is?”

K’ndar recognized the man right away, just from his gait. “I do. It’s my coworker, P’jar. He rides brown Falconth.”