The Dolphins of Pern (12 page)

T’lion hurried off before she also thought to order him to come back so he could help her more in the kitchen.

He managed to deliver the tray and remove both his rolls and himself from the conference room before anyone questioned his presence. Hearing voices and the tread of booted feet, he ducked into the small empty room next door so he could eat his rolls in peace.

“Yes? Identify?” a deep voice requested.

Straggling not to choke on the generous bite he had just taken out of a sweet roll, T’lion looked guiltily about the room. There was no one else in it, and the door was still shut. He swallowed.

“Who’s speaking?”

“Aivas. I did not realize there was a meeting scheduled here.”

“Where
are
you?”’

“Please address the screen,” T’lion was told.

“Huh?” But he turned toward the screen and saw the blinking red light in the lower right-hand corner.

“Identify, please?”

“You can see me?”

“Identify! Please!”

“Oh, excuse me. I’m T’lion.”

“The rider of bronze Gadareth?”

T’lion gawped. “Y-y-y-y-y-yess. How’d you know?”

“A listing of all current riders in the Weyrs, their names, and the names and colors of their dragons has been input. You are welcome, T’lion. How may I help you?”

“Oh, I’m not supposed to be here. I mean, I didn’t think anyone was in here and I needed a place …” T’lion trailed off, shaking his head at his own words and stupidity. He was embarrassed to be caught where he had no business being, and amazed to be
known
by someone—something?—everyone else in his Weyr respected so highly. He didn’t know what to do and felt foolish, standing there with sweet rolls in his hand. “I certainly shouldn’t take up your time, Aivas.”

“You have nothing of interest to report? All input is valuable.”

“You mean about the dolphins?” T’lion could think of nothing else he’d been doing that would be of interest to Aivas.

“You have been in contact with the dolphins? Your report would be appreciated.”

“It would?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Well, I haven’t done much more than correct them when they use words wrong, but Master Alemi told me that it’s us who’re using the wrong words.” T’lion found himself grinning. It was surely all right to tell Aivas that, since Alemi had heard it from Aivas.

“Yes, that is true. Are the dolphins adapting to the correction?”

“Well, the ones I’ve been talking to have been very quick to correct what they say,” T’lion said with a tinge of pride in his voice. “‘Gave’ instead of ‘gayve’ and ‘we’ instead of ‘oo-we.’ They’re using
more
words than they did when we first started talking.”

“A fuller account is awaited.”

“You really want to know? I haven’t told anyone else,” T’lion began, still reluctant to admit to his pastime.

“All input is useful. No one will be informed of your association if that is your wish, but your account will provide further insight into the renewal of contact.”

“In that case …” T’lion settled himself on a chair and related his experiences, as concisely as he could
since Weyrlingmaster H’mar had always insisted on detailed reports. Aivas did not interrupt him, but when he had finished speaking, he was asked to repeat all the dolphin names he had been told.

“Interesting that the names have been handed down.”

“What?”

“The present dolphins seem to have shortened names from those given the original complement of
tursiops tursio.”

“Really?”

“Kib is a short form of Kibbe, Afo possibly derived from Aphrodite, Alta from Atlanta, Dar from Dart. It is gratifying to see that they perpetuated many traditions. Please continue with your independent contact and report further discussions of any significance. Thank you, T’lion of Eastern Weyr, bronze Gadareth’s rider.” The light on the screen darkened and the pulse of the red corner light became much slower.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” T’lion replied, somewhat bemused.

His stomach put in a strong rumble, and he looked down at the sweet rolls he hadn’t had a chance to eat. He mulled over the conversation with Aivas as he consumed them.

Menolly is looking for you, T’lion
, Gadareth told him suddenly.

Licking his fingers clean, T’lion hurried down the hall and out the door to collect his passenger.

Master Idarolan did inform many members of his Craft of dolphin intelligence and his personal experience
of it. He did not inform
all
his Craft, since he knew that some of the hidebound ones, like Yanus of Half Circle Sea Hold, would simply deny the facts. The replies he got indicated that many of his Masters and journeymen had had experiences with dolphins, or knew of them from reliable sources. Some mentioned relief at vindication of what they thought they had just imagined: shipfish talking to them. Idarolan had supplied the report peal sequence, annotated by his Hall harper, so that even the most nonmusical could ring a proper summons. He recommended that requests for assistance be rendered in simple language; he suggested asking about local fish runs, weather, or depth reports in dangerous waters.

Perusing records kept of ship sinkings, he found that most of them occurred either during storms or by sailing too close to unknown reefs, shoals, and sand banks. On some occasions the captains reported seeing dolphins veering suddenly to the port or starboard.

Now it was obvious to Master Idarolan that the dolphins had been trying to urge the helmsman to change course. Invariably the presence of shipfish was reported when a ship was storm-tossed. Not all gave credit to the saving of life by the shipfish, but it was often implied that help had been received from an external agency, most seamen being honest in what they logged.

Two incidents had been faithfully reported of small vessels that had been caught in one of the Great Currents being pushed vigorously out of the current by the efforts of shipfish.

Idarolan asked for, and received, an interview with
Aivas to report his findings and to request additional advice on how to promote the association to the benefit of both parties.

He learned that pods were autonomous, following their chosen leader—usually an older female. Young males and old ones were apt to go off on their own for most of the year. He was also given a copy of the same instructions that Aivas had printed out for Alemi: the basic vocabulary of words that the dolphins had been trained to understand and the hand signals that were used underwater.

Both men were somewhat disappointed, though, to find that the news of intelligent shipfish was overshadowed by the growing industry aimed at a final battle with Thread. That was the top priority and everything else subject to that goal. Even Idarolan, after his initial fierce interest, found little time to pursue a meaningful relationship with the dolphins. He did, however, keep available on deck a pail of the small fish that Aivas said the creatures preferred. Whenever the
Dawn Sisters
had an escort, he himself offered them the reward. He also ordered his helmsmen to watch the directions the dolphins were taking and to follow their lead to the fishing grounds. In that way his hauls improved, and twice
Dawn Sisters
avoided unexpected reefs by following dolphin directions.

It was Kitrin who alerted Menolly to her brother’s evening-time occupation. When the sea winds began to cool the day, Menolly gave herself such exercise as her condition permitted. Mostly she swam, delighted to have the weight of her unborn child buoyed by the sea. Aramina often joined her, with Aranya in
tow. Menolly also used these evening swims as an opportunity to get to know her brother’s wife better. She couldn’t get Kitrin to join Aramina and herself in doing laps, but at least the woman would sit in waist-high water and benefit from the cooling circulation of water about her gravid body. Alemi had taught his older daughters how to swim, and they were quite adept, though they obeyed their mother the instant she called them to stay closer to the beach. Readis, on the other hand, needed careful observation, for he was utterly at home in the water, or under it, and had a tendency to swim farther out than his mother liked. Camo would come, too, wading out to no more than knee depth and following the fearless toddling Robse about in the shallows.

After Menolly had done what she considered sufficient laps, she would join Kitrin in the shallows to dote over the antics of their children and Readis. On one evening, Menolly asked if they could inveigle Alemi to join them. She hadn’t actually had as much of Alemi’s company as she had hoped, though certainly more than in previous Turns. They were very comfortable with each other in a way that would never have been possible at Half Circle Sea Hold, and she would have liked to spend more time with him.

“Oh, he’s off on some Craft project most evenings,” Kitrin said with a dismissive wave of her hand and a grin for male enthusiasms. “I never interfere with Hall matters and whatever it is, he comes back well pleased from the time spent on it.”

Menolly frowned. She had explored most of the area in her daily walks, with and without her pupils,
and she couldn’t remember seeing any evidence of a project. “Building a new skiff, is he?”

It was Kitrin’s turn to frown in concentration. “I don’t think so, because I believe he sent an order to the crafters at Ista—about the one Hall that isn’t overinvolved with Aivas commissions.” She straightened abruptly, one hand going to her belly. “Oh, I do so hope this one’s a boy. They say that if you’ve morning sickness, you’re carrying a boy?” She cocked her head to Menolly for confirmation.

Menolly shrugged, grinning in Robse’s direction. He was having an argument with the little ripples that flowed in as he tried to dig something out of the sand at his feet. Imperiously he held up one hand to the next wave and shrieked with indignation when it, too, splashed him. Camo came bounding over to see if the toddler was in any danger.

“I’m not the one to ask. I didn’t have morning sickness with Robse and certainly none with this one. What about Aramina?”

Kitrin sighed. “She never has problems.”

“Don’t fret, Kitrin,” Menolly said gently, laying a soothing hand on the other woman’s forearm. Kitrin was a dainty person, with fine features and long black hair now braided and coiled about her well-shaped head. Her brown eyes were clouded with anxiety. “Alemi adores you and will continue to do so whether you ever give him a son or not.” Then she wrinkled her face. “I remember that most Seahold women wanted daughters so they wouldn’t have to face losing them to storms at sea.”

“Oh?” Then Kitrin looked about, although they were alone in the water. Touching Menolly’s arm to
indicate a confidence, she leaned closer. “Have
you
heard that shipfish—Alemi insists on calling them doll-fins now—are intelligent? And speak?”

“Yes, I have heard that rumor. From Readis,” she added with a smile, “who told me in great detail the first day I held class that he had been rescued by ‘mam’ls.’ Quite a harper tale it was, too.”

Kitrin heaved another of her sighs. “Well, it was
true.
Alemi says so. He was even sent for by Aivas to come to Landing and give a report on the incident.” She leaned ever closer. “I think that it’s the doll-fins he talks to in the evenings. If the wind is right I can hear a bell. He put in an order, I know, to the Smithcrafthall for a big bell, but with all they’re doing for Aivas and the Benden Weyrleaders, it’ll be ages before they get around to casting it. So he got a small one from Master Robinton. I think he uses it to summon the doll-fins. He’s got it on the pier around on the headland so he won’t upset Aramina, or let Readis know what he’s doing.”

“Readis?” Menolly’s gaze went to the intrepid boy, who was diving in and out of the water, in much the same way she had observed shipfish disporting themselves.

“Yes, well, she does not want Readis getting keen to talk to shipfish. Just see how he’s swimming right now. Readis!” she called. “Swim back into shore now!” She turned back to Menolly. “That’s what I mean and what worries her. Why, he’d swim right out to sea to meet a dolphin. No fear on him.”

“Well, I can help distract him from that,” Menolly said. “At his age, they don’t have a long concentration span.” She gave a sigh. “You have to keep one
step ahead of them, with something new to do, a game or a challenge. Your girls are a great help with him, by the way. Such biddable children.”

Kitrin sat a bit straighter, delighted at such praise of her Kitral, Nika, and Kami, and neatly diverted away from the previous topic.

Curious, Menolly took the next opportunity she had to follow the well-used lane through the trees and shrubs that flourished on the headland to the pier. On that quiet evening, the three fishing ships were at anchor in the small bay on the eastern side of the head, their skiffs tied to the rings on the pier. At first she didn’t see Alemi, though she could hear voices—some of them pitched at a very odd level and emitting some very odd sounds. She saw the splashing first, and realized that half a dozen shipfish heads were protruding from the water. And it was they who were making the odd sounds: squees and clicks and watery noises. Only when she had walked to the end of the pier did she see her brother, below the pier deck, sitting cross-legged on a fragile raft that was nearly flooded by the vigorous wavelets splashed on it by the shipfish.

She nearly fell off the side of the pier when a shipfish suddenly jumped into the air, one black eye fixed on her before it fell back into the water, squeeing.

“Squeee! New game coming, ’Lemi?” it asked plainly.

Alemi’s head appeared above the deck of the pier. “Menolly?”

“None other, brother,” she said at her drollest, peering down at his surprised face. “Is this a secret?”
she asked, gesturing at the attentive faces, now turned in her direction.

“This is Menolly, my pod sister,” Alemi said to the dolphins. Menolly suppressed a burst of laughter as he went on. “Menolly, starting on the port side, here are Kib, Afo, Mel, Temp, Biz, and Rom. Jim and Mul are missing this evening.”

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” Menolly said in slow formal tones, nodding her head at each smiling shipfish face in the circle.