Chap. 329 The Incubator

It felt odd, being back in his quarters when everyone thought he was gone.

He fired up his datalink, and immediately a note appeared on the screen that said that his quarters had a repair ticket out. Yes. Raventh’s bay door was sticking again. As he read it, his quarters door pinged, then admitted someone without permission.

He jumped up, almost losing the eggs at his belly. I HAVE to find somewhere to thing to put these.

“‘Allo! You’re supposed to be gone,” a voice said. “Your quarters are scheduled for some annual maintenance.”

It was Orlon, Landing’s chief maintenance man.

“I was, but…something came up and I had to return,” K’ndar said.

“I can come back later,” the man said, hoping against it.

“No, that’s okay, I don’t mind. Don’t let me interfere.”

“Thanks, mate.” Orlon put down his toolbox and consulted his datalink. “Aye, here’s the ticket. That bay door still giving yon dragon problems?”

“Um, sometimes. But I’ve been out for quite a while, I’m not sure if it’s still sticking.”

“No matter, K’ndar, I’ll fix ‘er up right. Just a bit o’ lubing,” Orlon said.

He remembered his first days at Landing, when this humble man managed to make even the most recalcitrant mechanical thing sit up and beg.

“Didn’t you have a helper? Your brother?”

“Aye, that lout. He’s been gone quite a while, now. I’m not ashamed to say he wasn’t much good for anything but cleaning up his meals. Don’t know where ‘e’s gone and don’t rightly care.”

For no reason that he could later fathom, K’ndar said, “By any chance do you know how to culture eggs?”

“Culture eggs? What kind of eggs? Fire lizard eggs? Fish eggs? Reptile eggs? Chicken eggs?”

“Um…” K’ndar pulled the eggs from his shirt and showed them.

“They’re not eggs like I’ve ever seen,” Orlon said, “but they’re saurian. What do you intend to do with ’em?”

“I guess, hatch them out. I took them from the mother’s nest.”

“From a dragon?”

“No, it’s a beast I’ve never seen before, I believe it’s called a susi, but again, I don’t know. I was thinking of perhaps seeing if they’d hatch and then I’d be able to figure out what they are.”

Orlon scratched his head. “Susi, eh?” Something went ping! in his mind. “Huh. Maybe put them in an incubator?”

“A what?”

“It’s a small box, insulated to maintain a constant set temperature to allow the eggs to grow and then hatch. There’s one down at the barns, sometimes a hen is taken by a raptor or a tunnel snake and the eggs are put in it. It works pretty well.”

“I’ve nothing better to do, can you show me?”

______________________________________________________________

As always, the barn was a welcoming place for him. Landing’s livestock were out to pasture right now, but still, the ledges along the sides of the cavern were alive with the tiny wherries and avians. Siskin darted here and there among the crannies in the volcanic rock, looking for nests. The avians dive bombed him. After a flurry of activity, he realized he would not get their eggs today and returned to K’ndar’s shoulder.

“Siskin, why don’t you go hunting outside?” K’ndar said.

As if hearing him, four fire lizards flew in. He recognized Fafhrd, Headman Grafton’s bronze, and Francie’s trio. Siskin flew to them, then all five left.

I think I’ll join them Raventh said, Motanith is already out hunting and says the hunting is good.

What about the bronzes? Corvuth and Mondevuth?

They’re up north, at Benden.

It felt odd, knowing that Landing was now down to four dragons.

Good hunting!

“Now, then, if I remember correctly, that incubator should be in here,” Orlon said. He opened the door into the storeroom of the barn.

The barn was a vast cavern, the volcano having helpfully created coves inside, and what the original settlers had stored in them, K’ndar had no idea. Over the centuries, erosion had created thin gaps in the top, allowing sunshine in to illuminate most of the interior. After Landing had been re-inhabited, the staff had added rails of lightwood that delineated livestock pens. One of the largest had been turned into an office and storeroom, separated from the rest of cavern by a wall of volcanic rock.

K’ndar laughed. “It’s almost as if Mt. Garben had a blueprint for this barn,” he said. “Look, this opening is just a little higher and wider than a human.”

“Aye, it IS conveniently made, what? But just pure luck, K’ndar,” Orlon said. “Gas bubbles from the last lava flow created this entire cavern.” He opened the lightwood door and went through the entryway. A manylegs web plastered his face, the insect scuttling away. Swiping it from his face, he swore. “Blast, look at this! No one’s been in here to clean, not in a while,” he said, irritated.

“Who’s turn is it?”

Not mine, he thought, I’ve not been tasked to clean the barn in a long time. Not that I would have minded.

“Grafton could tell you, but I know it’s one of the kids’ tasking, and obviously, no one’s checked up on him. Or her. Either way, I’ll be sure to let Grafton know. Ah, there they are. See this big one, it was brought by the ancients and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Twenty five hundred years takes a lot out of electronic things. So it’s more a museum piece, but we made this smaller one like it, using solar power OR thermal heat. Let’s look at those eggs, they should fit in this smaller ‘un. It’s far more portable, and we can put it in my quarters. My wife won’t mind keeping an eye on the eggs,” Orlon said, hoping he wasn’t lying.

“Um, YOUR quarters? You want to take the eggs and hatch them out?”

Orlon grinned. “Yup, they’ll fit with room t’spare. As for my wife, well, maybe she won’t be too happy ’bout it, but she’s used to me bringing critters home to raise up. Stars, we did that with a girl, fostered her after her mum was killed in Threadfall. Didn’t have no kids of our own, you see. That girl, she’s now a topman on a three masted ship out of Half-Circle Sea Hold. She took to the sea like she’d been raised by dolphins. Dian, my wife, well, she’s a dab hand at animal healing and raising. Right now we have Lord T’balt’s dog while he’s up north at Benden.”

“But, um,”

“K’ndar, aren’t you on sabbatical? Do you intend to sit around watching these eggs instead of taking your time off?”

“Um,”

“Um isn’t an answer, lad. I don’t mind, really. In fact I’m interested in finding out just what’s in these eggs.”

“Well, that would be load off my shoulders, I agree, but I hate to impose on you. I have been second guessing myself at taking the eggs in the first place.”

“It’s no problem, K’ndar. ‘E’re, let’s load it on that small wagon. I won’t bother hooking up the pony, it’s small enough a load that I can just pull it meself. Once we finish at your quarters, I’ll pull it up to mine. You said someone told you it was a susi?”

“Yes, although I’ve never heard of it, and for that matter, never seen such a beast before, which is why I took two of her eggs.”

Susi. The pinging in his mind got louder.

______________________________________________________________

“Orlon, not again,” his wife said. “I DO have other things to do.”

“Shh. K’ndar’s right outside.”

“For Pern’s sakes, then, invite him in!”

K’ndar entered the mechanic’s quarters, abashed. A very rotund dog greeted him, lashing his legs with her tail. He absently reached down to rub her ears. Behind Dian, a cat regarded him suspiciously.

“K’ndar, rider of brown Raventh, ma’am.”

“AND Staff biologist,” Orlon added.

“Dian, dragonrider K’ndar. Pleased to meet you. Orlon speaks highly of you,” the woman said, graciously extending her hand.

He shook it. It felt strong. This was a woman who’d worked with her hands for most of her life.

“Orlon’s helped me a lot, ma’am. He’s a genius with mechanical things.”

Orlon started the incubator. “Ah. Still works, of course! Shouldn’t take too long to reach temperature, I’m guessing it should be the same as for other saurians.”

“So, then let’s see these eggs I can see tucked into your shirt. They must be getting cool,” Dian said. “We mammals don’t have as high a body temperature as anything on Pern.”

He withdrew them from his shirt and handed them to her. She shut her eyes to keep them from distracting her hand’s examination.

“Still alive, whatever they are,” she said, opening her eyes. “They’re definitely saurian, although not fire lizard. The size would say steppe wherry, but wherrys aren’t saurians, and they’re not avian. What did you say the animal is?”

“I didn’t. I don’t really know. There was a man at my family cothold who said it’s a susi. I have some pictures of the mother on my datalink.”

“Susi. Susi,” Dian said, her gaze inward, “I’ve heard that word before.”

Orlon came over to take the eggs. “Me, too, I’m having one ding of a time pulling it out of me memory.” He sent a query into the vast archive in his mind.

“Do you have your datalink? Can I see the pictures?” Dian said. Her expression was one of intense focus.

“I do. It took me forever to learn to carry it everywhere I go, and there are times I’d like to just chuck it into the sea and be done with it,” K’ndar said, grateful at being relieved of his egg burden.

Orlon laughed. “Aye, I feel the same way about mine. Mine’ll be quiet all day, then because nothing seems to break down until after I’m in bed, and then everyone wants it fixed right now.”

“Look at this, Orlon. Look!” Dian exclaimed over the pictures.

“I’ve never seen such a beast,” he said. His memory search began to jump up and down, excited.

“It’s definitely a predator. If the eggs hatch, I’ll have to be sure they’re not near the chickens.”

How many predators on Pern were precocious, K’ndar wondered. Fire lizards could fly almost immediately after hatching, dragons took a little longer, but neither needed mothering.

But this susi wasn’t either, he thought, and I don’t have experience with anything else.

“This man who called it a susi, K’ndar. What do you know of him?”

“Um, I’d just met him that one time. His name was Cord, and he said he was a Wanderer. He had a crew at the cothold, digging a new well and erecting a wind turbine in barter for a team of oxen.”

“A Wanderer?”

“Yes, is that important?”

Orlon gave him a strange look.

“What do you think of Wanderers?”

“What? I beg your pardon?”

“Some folks don’t trust Wanderers. They say it’s because they really haven’t assimilated into regular Pern society.”

What an odd question, he thought. “I’ve never had any trouble with them, Orlon. I really don’t have an opinion, I don’t know why I would. They’re just people who, well, seem to be a bit reclusive, stand offish, I guess, but I don’t think it’s because they don’t like us. It’s just who they are. I guess they’re the original nomads.

The few I’ve met as a dragonrider, the few who’ve come to my cothold, were always reserved, but honest and hard working. Anytime they came to our cothold, one would do all the interacting, like Cord did, and the rest stay on the job. They wouldn’t even enter our caverns for meals.

Mum wanted them to eat with us, but they’d refuse, so she’d put out a big feed for them outside. That always bothered her, Mum says if they’re doing the work for the family, they need to be treated like family.

I can’t remember ever hearing of one being a thief or a raider. And, Orlon, there’s no one better with horses. In fact, one Wanderer took me aside at last year’s Ruatha Races and told me to bet on his filly, and I’ll be switched if I didn’t win a pot of money. They have a way with horses that puts horsemen like me and my family to shame. Why do you ask?

Orlon’s mental searcher happily delivered his request. I can’t remember all of the song other than the description of a susi, but I do remember the tune, he thought. He started to hum a tune.

“That’s the same tune I heard from Cord!” K’ndar gasped.

“It’s incredibly old, K’ndar. I’ve not heard it since I was a kid, but it’s still in my memory, just like so many other songs before we had paper and books. Wanderers have their own culture, their own Teaching Songs, like this one, in addition to those of Pern. Many of them, like the susi song, is thousands of years old. It was first created when we still lived on the steppe, before Thread killed us, before the Intervals, even.”

“Your people”? You’re a Wanderer?”

Orlon and Dian looked at each other, their eyes laughing.

“Well, maybe we can’t call ourselves that because obviously, we’re here, settled, and have, excuse me, ‘assimilated’. We don’t even have a horse. But aye, we’re Wanderers, too. We were both born in caravans,” Orlon said.

K’ndar was astonished. “But…”

Dian laughed. “I know. Wanderers choose to stay on the road. They don’t use electricity or running water. They don’t work at Landing. Wanderers refuse to be Searched, we don’t grow up to be scientists or seamen, we won’t ride a dragon. Wanderers roam the planet in caravans and horseback. But some clans, like mine, like Orlon’s, some of us have decided you Pern folk are alright.”

“And some of us like a hot shower after a long day’s work,” Orlon grinned.