Dragonriders of Pern: Dragonflight, Dragonquest, the White Dragon
Author: Anne McCaffrey
Date: 1988-10-12 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; dragons; Science Fiction Fantasy; Fiction; Fantasy; Science Fiction; Short Stories; Young Adult; High Fantasy; Adventure; Time Travel
Description: NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Together in one volume—the first three books in the world’s most beloved science-fiction series! DRAGONFLIGHT On a beautiful world called Pern, an ancient way of life is about to come under attack. Lessa is an outcast survivor—her parents murdered, her birthright stolen—a strong young woman who has never stopped dreaming of revenge. But when an ancient threat reemerges, Lessa will rise—upon the back of a great dragon with whom she shares a telepathic bond more intimate than any human connection. Together, dragon and rider will fly, and Pern will be changed forever.
Publisher: Random House Worlds

By

--SS Beyond Between --

Dissatisfied with life on technologically advanced Earth, hundreds of colonists traveled through space to the star Rukbat, which held six planets in orbit around it, five in stable trajectories, and one that looped wildly around the others. The third planet was capable of sustaining life, and the spacefarers settled there, naming it Pern. They cannibalized their spaceships for matériel and began building their homes.

Pern was ideal for settlement, except for one thing. At irregular intervals, the sixth planet of its system would swing close to it and release swarms of deadly mycorrhizoid spores, which devoured anything they touched and rendered the ground where they landed fallow for years. The colonists immediately began searching for a way to combat Thread, as the spores were named. For defense, they turned to the dragonets, small flying lizards that the colonists had tamed when they first landed. The fire-breathing ability of these reptiles had been a great help in the first Threadfall. By genetically enhancing and selectively breeding these reptiles through the generations, the colonists created a race of full-sized dragons.

With the dragons and their riders working together, the Pern colonists were able to fight Thread effectively and establish a firm hold on the planet. They settled into a quasi-feudal agricultural society, building Holds for the administrators and field workers, Halls for the craftsmen, and Weyrs for the dragons and riders to inhabit.

Many of the Pern novels detail the politics of the Holds and Weyrs between Threadfalls. The entire line of books spans more than twenty-five hundred years, from the first landing of the settlers to their descendants' discovery of the master ship's computer centuries later. Dragonflight, the first of theDragonriders of Pern books, tells of a time twenty-five hundred years after the initial landing. Thread has not been seen in four centuries, and people are starting to be skeptical of the old warnings. Three dragonriders, Lessa, F'lar, and F'nor, believe that Thread is coming back, and try to mobilize the planetary defenses. Lessa, knowing that there are not enough dragons to combat Thread effectively, time-travels back four hundred years to a point just after the last Threadfall, when that era's dragonriders are growing restless and bored from lack of activity. Lessa convinces most of them to come back with her to combat Thread in her time. They arrive and fight off the Thread.

Dragonquest, the second book, picks up seven years after the end of the first book. Relations between the Oldtimers, as the time-traveling dragonriders are called, and the current generation are growing tense. After getting into a fight with one of the old dragonriders, F'nor is sent to Pern's southern continent to recover from his wound. There he discovers a grub that neutralizes Thread after it burrows into the ground. Realizing they have discovered a powerful new weapon against Thread, F'nor begins planning to seed the grubs over both continents.

Meanwhile, an unexpected Threadfall is the catalyst for a duel between F'lar, the Benden Weyrleader, and T'ron, the leader of the Oldtimers. F'lar wins and banishes all dragonriders who will not accept his role as overall Weyrleader. The banished go to the Southern Continent. The book ends with the grubs being bred for distribution over Pern.

The third book, The White Dragon, chronicles the trials of young Jaxom as he raises the only white dragon on Pern, a genetic anomaly. Jaxom encounters prejudice and scorn from other dragonriders because his dragon is smaller than the rest. He is also scheduled to take command of one of the oldest Holds on Pern, and there are those who doubt his ability to govern. Both Jaxom and his dragon Ruth rise to the challenges and succeed in proving that bigger is not necessarily better. Jaxom commands his Hold, gets the girl, and all is set right with the world.

TheHarper Hall Trilogy (Dragonsong, Dragonsinger, Dragondrums) is aimed at young readers and deals with a girl named Menolly and her rise from unappreciated daughter to Journeywoman Harper and keeper of fire-lizards.

In many subsequent novels, and in the short novel published here, McCaffrey has examined various other aspects of life on Pern from the earliest days of its colonization by humans.

BEYOND BETWEEN

FOREWORD

When human colonists first settled on Pern, the third planet of the sun Rukbat, in the Sagittarian Sector, they paid little attention to the eccentric orbit of the sister planet they called the Red Star. After all, the star system had been surveyed and declared safe, and the Earth-born colonists, all war veterans, were more concerned with building a peaceful, low-tech, agrarian society for themselves and their children. So they were ill prepared when disaster struck, eight years later, in the form of a menace from space – a mindless organism that fell from the sky in thin strands, consuming all organic matter in its way. The colonists called it "Thread," and although it could be destroyed by water or fire, and could not penetrate stone or metal, it fell so relentlessly that it seemed virtually unstoppable.

Then a solution was found: Using their old-world ingenuity and genetic engineering, the settlers altered an indigenous life-form that resembled the dragons of legend. The resulting enormous "dragons" became Pern's most effective weapon against Thread. Able to chew and digest a phosphine-bearing rock, the dragons could literally breathe fire and sear the airborne Thread before it could reach the ground. Able not only to fly but to teleport, as well, the dragons could maneuver quickly to avoid injury during their battles with Thread. And their telepathic bond with their human riders – a bond forged at the moment of hatching – enabled dragons and humans to work in perfect harmony in their campaigns against Threadfall.

The dragonriders became the heroes of Pern, and it was many a child's dream to grow up to be a dragonrider, to share that incredible mental and emotional bond with one of the great dragons. But that bond had a down side, as well: Death was a separation neither could endure alone. If the rider died, the dragon would suicide. If the dragon died, the rider might likewise attempt to take his own life or, at best, would be doomed from then on to lead but half a life.

Once the first fifty-year-long attack of Thread ended, three disparate societies developed on Pern: Holds, where strong-minded men and women managed the bounty of the land and kept people safe during the Falls of Thread; Halls, where crafts were practiced and perfected; and Weyrs, where dragons and their riders lived.

During the Sixth Pass of Thread, in 1543, on the third day of the tenth month, an unusual situation occurred for which the carefully kept records in the Harper Hall and individual Weyrs could find no precedent. A plague had raged across the continent, and the Healers had developed a preventive vaccine that needed to be administered as soon as the dragons and their riders brought it to every individual Hall and Hold from sea to sea. In an effort to perform this unusual delivery, dragons and their riders relied on a little-known, or -understood, ability in the dragons to teleport not just anywheretheir riders could visualize, but anywhen. It was very dangerous to cross not only distance but also time and, when tired and confused, even the best-trained dragon and rider could make mistakes.

* * * *

The following day two dragonriders visited Waterhole to check that all the holders and runnerbeasts had, indeed, been vaccinated and that no one had suffered any ill effects from the injection. Their arrival was, of course, punctuated by Rusty's shrieks of terror. Assuring them that all in his hold had been injected by none other than Journeywoman Healer Desdra, Thaniel wanted to add that the only ill effect was his old runnerbeast shrieking from the appearance of dragons every day. But he held his tongue instead, conscious of the grief the dragonfolk endured. He couldn't help but think that he was the last person to have seen Moreta and Holth. That thought preyed on his mind and he grew anxious.

His anxiety did not go unnoticed by his children, so that night and the following day one of Thaniel's daughters or sons stayed with him in the hold while the others went about the routine of checking stock. But, then, just before dusk, Bill came charging back on his little runner, self-important with the news that a beast had trapped itself in a narrow gully and couldn't find enough foot purchase to get free. All hands were needed to hoist the animal to safety so Jerra, attending her father that day, would have to go back with her brother. Thaniel and Bill assembled ropes, straps, and lanterns and stowed them carefully on Bill's runner. Jerra and the boy were clearly reluctant to leave their father alone, but Thaniel reassured them that he would be quite all right and, after all, the animal must be rescued.

The dust kicked up by Bill's and Jerra's mounts had only just settled when Thaniel was overcome by a terrible sinking feeling that was punctuated by a frightful scream from Rusty. Heart skipping several beats, Thaniel crept to the door, holding a thick stick as long as a man's arm. He opened the door and scanned the horizon for any sign of dragons. All he saw was Rusty rearing on his hind legs, striking out with his forefeet at some invisible foe. Within a few moments the runner started to calm down, only to start shrieking again. He was so frightened that he backed away from the fence as fast as his feet could move. Then he stopped, firm in his tracks, starring intently ahead of him – at nothing. Concern overriding fear as the terrified beast started pawing the ground, Thaniel left the safety of his hold doorway and approached the enclosure, beckoning Rusty to him. The animal ignored him, his ears pricked forward and his eyes fastened on to something in front of him that only he could see.

"What is it, old fellow? What's bothering you?" Thaniel asked as he watched the muscles on Rusty's shoulders quivering. Rusty pawed the ground again. Thaniel passed a hand over his eyes, rubbing them, before he peered again at the empty space that transfixed Rusty. Suddenly, the runnerbeast took a huge step backward, nearly sitting on his hindquarters in his attempt at high-speed retreat. Then, after kicking his hind legs high behind him and prodding the ground with his forelegs, the distraught animal tore around the enclosure like an unbroken yearling, wheeling and rearing as if Thread or some other unthinkable terror were engulfing him.

Thaniel's jaw dropped.

"He only does that when there's dragons about," he said to himself. "Maybe Rusty's just beyond it, and the kindest thing would be to put the old fellow down. Can't have him screaming like that every night!" Shaking his head, he turned away from the runnerbeast and walked back into his hold.

And so Rusty's wild behavior continued, night after night, until the fifth evening after Moreta had vanished into between. That night, Thaniel was watching at the right time. To his utter amazement, the full moon illuminated the ethereal forms of a dragon and rider.

Hollering louder than Rusty, Thaniel dropped his club, turned, and fled back to his hold, where he slammed the door quickly behind him.

Five days earlier. ..

Moreta felt the better for the klah the old holder had given her. She couldn't remember when she had last eaten, though she must have, as her stomach didn't feel all that empty. But she was so tired, and even the longest Fall had never seemed so endless and draining. Just this one last jump between and then Holth could rest, too, for the old queen had been valiant. As she sprang from the ground on this last leg of their day's journeying, Moreta began her litany against her fear of between. "Black, blacker, blackest. .. "

Never had between felt so cold to her, even with the warmth of klah seeping into her veins. Hugging herself with her arms to ward off the chill, she closed her eyes against the unrelenting blackness of between. Then she opened them again, as, out of the corner of her eye, her brain registered something different about her surroundings, something unexpected.

Is that a light?She turned toward it, shaking her head, waiting for the darkness to greet her eyes once again. Instead, a grayness lay before her, imperceptibly blending with the black of between. Somehow, she did not feel so cold anymore. She felt an overwhelming desire to move away from the grayness and suddenly realized that Holth was motionless. Surely more than the usual eight seconds had passed. She had nearly finished the verse of her litany and they were still – immovably – between. ..

Holth?she cried. What has happened? We are not back at Fort Weyr!

We are between. I did not "see" where we should go, replied Holth in a querulous tone, bugling in distress.

Panic welled in Moreta's chest and she tried to think back to what she had said to Holth as the tired old dragon had lurched off the ground. She shook her head.

I had to have visualized Fort Weyr for you, Holth! she protested, forcing her time-wearied mind to recall exactly what she had said. I've been a rider too long to make such a weyrling mistake.

We are both tired, Holth replied blandly. We went between, as you said. That is all we did.

Why didn't you ask me where?Moreta demanded sharply, wondering how a dragon so experienced could have forgotten something so basic.

You have been telling me where to go, and at what time to get there, all day. You always gave me the directions. Specific directions, according to the sun. This time you only told me to go between. Despair crept into the dragon's mental tone.

Frantically quelling her own mounting panic, Moreta recalled that she had indeed only told weary old Holth to go between, assuming that the dragon had also heard her say that this was the last time she'd have to jump. Meaning, of course, for them to jump between to "home," Fort Weyr, where they could both rest after the arduous day; home to Leri and home to Orlith and her eggs. She hugged herself tightly and looked longingly behind her, as if she were looking at her past. A past she could not change. Move, Holth! Maybe we can find our way back. Holth uttered a disbelieving noise and made no move with either wing or leg.

I cannot go anywhere. There was just the slightest emphasis on "go. "

"What do you mean, you can't 'go'?" Moreta cried out loud.

Not yet, and not with you, was Holth's cryptic reply.

We must go home. They are expecting us. Leri will be worried about you, and Orlith will be frantic.

I know, the dragon replied. I cannot reach them, she added after a brief pause.

Frightened, Moreta pushed her thoughts out for the comforting touch of Orlith, ever present at the back of her mind and often stronger when they were separated. For the first time, it was not there, and Moreta gasped. This couldn't be happening! She thought as, unbidden, tears flowed down her cheeks. Overwhelming grief consumed her.

ORLITH! she cried.

Just then, she saw something moving, gray against grayer, but shaped like a dragon with its rider on its withers.

"Hallo there!" a male voice called. And he waved an arm at her. Moreta momentarily froze and then desperately wiped at her wet face. This was an impossible nightmare, and now she was hearing things as well as seeing – in between! "Wait for me!" the man called out.

Stunned, Moreta numbly waited while an unusually small, brown dragon halted neatly just a nose away from Holth. The old dragon put her nose forward and made the expected courtesy touch with a newcomer. Then Holth backed up with far more energy than she had previously shown.

Duluth?the gold dragon asked, surprised.

"What's happening? Who are you? Why can I hear and see you?" Moreta cried. The panic was rising in her again. The old queen backed up a further step.

"I'm Marco Galliano," the young rider said in a measured, calming tone. Or at least Moreta thought he was young. He had to be a new rider, for she didn't know of a brown dragon named Duluth.

"Don't worry, I can help you. Are you cold? You're both shivering. "

"Not from the cold," Moreta said, trying to control the panic in her voice, but what else would one feel, stuck in between ?

"Look, I know you're new to all this, up here in the fold. Duluth and I do the rounds every day to look for strays. "

"Do rounds? Look for strays?" Moreta echoed, incredulous. She felt as if the grayness was closing in around her and clutched at her riding harness, fearful that she was losing consciousness. If she fell off Holth now, she'd be falling into between. A whimper, unbidden, surged up her throat.

"C'mon, I'll take you where it's warm. "

His dragon turned.

"Wait! Where are you going?" she yelled.

Just follow me. It's easy, said the dragon.

"I don't know why it works," Marco said casually, "but I can always get back to Paradise. "

Duluth took off on a good run and in a moment was so competently airborne that Moreta quickly urged Holth to follow. Holth took off at speed, as if she, like Moreta, wanted to get anywhere but here, no matter where that might be. Moreta's vision blurred again as panic continued to exert its grip on her. She felt totally disoriented.

They flew straight for what seemed a long time, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, Marco and Duluth suddenly dropped, flattened out, and dived down through the dark floor of between. A hole appeared to engulf them, and Moreta urged Holth to follow.

They broke out over a very blue sea, facing a spit of white sand and tall frond-waving trees along a shore. The sound of the water washing onto the shore rushed into Moreta's ears. Duluth landed on the beach, followed by Holth, who, sighing mightily as she instinctively kept her wings open to absorb the heat all dragons enjoyed, dug her feet down into the warm sand. The hot sun slapped Moreta in the face and she gasped with relief.

We're safe! We can go home now, Holth! she cried with relief. Holth didn't answer her. Quickly, Moreta tried to get her bearings, but the heat, combined with the complete exhaustion she felt, was too much to bear. She began to slide off Holth's neck, but fell halfway down, landing on all fours on the hot sands.

"Look, you're both awfully tired now. Your dragon has the right idea. C'mon," Marco said, lifting her to her feet with great ease. Moreta wanted to correct him, tell him that Holth was not her dragon, but her mouth wouldn't form the words. He put a hand gently under her elbow and started to propel her toward the shade. The heat was enervating, and she unconsciously opened her heavy flying jacket. Mute from shock and fatigue she followed Marco's lead, looking over her shoulder to be sure that Holth was comfortable in the sand. The old queen snorted once, wriggled her shoulders, let her tail fall down on the sand, and exhaled noisily into a snore.

"Here, sit down for a while; you'll feel better if you have a little rest." Marco swept away some dry fronds from the tough grass that grew under the shading trees.

His hand changed position and practically forced her to the ground. She had no strength left. When he took her jacket from her limp hand and made a pillow of it on the grass, she lay down. Closing her eyes, Moreta hoped that when she opened them, she'd be back in her own Weyr and that this was all a terrible dream.

The strange young rider murmured a gentle reassurance she didn't hear as she fell almost instantly into a deep sleep.

* * * *

It was the Runner Stationmaster himself who carried the message immediately to the Weyr, for Leri from Thaniel of Waterhole Hold. Everyone read it: "She comes every evening at the same time, just after sundown, when it's growing dark. She asks for Leri. What can I do?"

"Ha! Weare stupid folk!" Leri said scathingly. "Orlith! Aren't your eggs hard enough yet?"

A grumble echoed back from the Hatching Ground from Orlith, who was still fussing over a proper little mound of sand to raise her queen egg higher than the rest. She moved so slowly and carefully that it seemed as if she were putting each grain of sand in place individually. This, however, made her task seem too sadly pathetic to watch for very long.

"It's her way of passing time," Leri had remarked when this was pointed out to her.

Now she thanked the Runner Stationmaster graciously for the personal delivery and slipped him a full Harper Hall credit for his trouble.

"My pleasure, Weyrwoman. May I send back a message for you?"

"That would be most kind of you," Leri said with great dignity, and hastily the Stationmaster took out a small pad and writer.

"Give him my thanks and say we shall be there soon. He can do nothing, like us, but wait until Orlith decides the eggs are ready to hatch. My thanks for your trouble. "

The Stationmaster bowed himself out of the Weyr.

It was before dawn one morning not long after, that Orlith informed Leri that her eggs would undoubtedly hatch that day. With gentle wing strokes, she rolled the queen egg to its special mound, while Leri waited in her Weyr, dressed in her warmest clothing.

"Not that warm clothing will do much good in between," she remarked in her acerbic way, and hobbled to the entrance to her Weyr without a backward glance. She looked up toward the skies; a magnificent dawn would soon break. "Just the day to start the rest of my journey," she said.

I hope this day is not marred by any unnecessary sadness, Orlith. A Hatching Day is to look to the future, not to regret the past.

Thaniel had remained at Waterhole Hold that day to bake bread. He needed to keep busy. The whole affair had already turned his hair white but, nonetheless, when the Stationmaster brought back Leri's reply, he felt his ordeal might soon be over. Ignoring his children's pleas to join them on their rounds to check the herds, Thaniel was determined to remain by his hold waiting for Leri. At his father's suggestion, Maynar saddled Rusty and rode off with his siblings.

With Rusty gone, Thaniel was not aware that a dragon and rider had landed at the nearby waterhole. But when he looked up from his work, he saw the great gold queen, and Leri, huddled in furs, on the dragon's back. Quickly he took a piece of fresh, hot bread and a cup of klah to the waiting Weyrwoman, who thanked him and ate willingly. He was sorry to see how gnarled the old woman's fingers were and how awkwardly she held her body.

"If there is aught else I may do for you, Weyrwoman, you have but to call me and I will come," Thaniel said.

"I am well enough as I am," Leri replied in her brisk way, returning the empty plate to the holder.

Thaniel went back to his work, but kept an eye on the pair from the window as he kneaded the second batch of dough. He was clearing off the last of the flour from the worktop when he noticed that the sun was beginning to sink. So he poured himself another cup of klah, wondering whether he should bring more out to the old rider before he realized he had already poured two. He took one out to Leri, who thanked him for his thoughtfulness but sipped so slowly that Thaniel, whose bad leg was aching after the day's baking, returned to his house, to rest himself for what else might happen on this unusual day.

It was about an hour later when the second dragon appeared. Thaniel let out a deep sigh when he heard the glad cries from the women, and the loud trumpeting of the dragons.

The reunions brought tears to Thaniel's eyes as he looked on from the doorway. Moreta leapt from the back of Holth and ran to Orlith. She caressed her queen's head, touching the pale gold neck with great tenderness as she gazed adoringly into faceted eyes that whirled bright blue with happiness. Leri dropped her cup and walked as quickly as she was able to meet Holth; she hugged her dragon's neck fervently, as a newly Impressed weyrling would. Thaniel later said that he thought his heart would break at the old Weyrwoman's joy.

"I never thought I'd see you again, dear heart," Leri said amid tears of joy, while her fingers remembered the texture of Holth's wattling hide.

The two weyrwomen spoke quietly to each other in the first light of the rising moon. What they said Thaniel would never know, but when he saw Leri settled, with some difficulty, on her dragon, he hurried out to them.

"Thank you, Holder Thaniel, for having the wit to know what we needed. The Weyrs will always be grateful to you and your family, as will Orlith and I." Moreta's voice, though faint, was full of warmth as she spoke to the old holder, regarding him intently. Then she turned her attention back to Leri.

"Now, we are matched correctly," she said with an air of intense satisfaction.

Just then, Orlith jerked her head upright, swinging her eyes around in the direction of Fort Weyr. She gave a triumphant bugle, which Holth echoed.

"The queen egg has hatched; her name is Hannath and her rider is Oklina! Oh, I am pleased! Good news makes even the longest journey easier. "

"Young Alessan's sister has Impressed?" Leri said. "I told you there was rider blood in Ruatha Hold. "

"Well, I am glad," Moreta repeated. She squared her shoulders, putting all other thoughts from her head. She could not think of Alessan now. She turned to Leri. "We can go now, together, you and I, Orlith and Holth. "

She urged her dragon into motion. "Just the one more trip between, Orlith," she said. "And I mean that. "

The dragon nodded her head once and, wheeling away from Holth, trotted a few paces to spring upward. Holth was right behind her, a front foot clipping the klah mug that Leri had dropped, scattering the pieces about. The tired old queen just managed to clear the ground and was into the air, urged on by her own eager rider. Both dragons were soon high enough so that their wings could sweep downward in a magnificent ascent. Emblazoned in the full moonlight, the two queen riders raised their right arms high above their heads, punching the air with clenched fists. Thaniel held his breath as suddenly both dragons disappeared between.

Thaniel wished them well, as his tears at last brimmed over. He bent to pick up the handle that was all that remained of the mug. He suddenly felt reassured for the first time in many years. Perhaps there was some other place he would go eventually; some place he did not yet know. Some place where he might even see his beloved wife again. He slipped the broken handle into his apron pocket and patted it – a keepsake by which to remember Moreta.