“I have discerned a haze about the planet, irrespective of its atmospheric envelope. A haze that spreads backward in this system and swirls along the eccentric’s path. I cannot refine that telescope enough to tell more. It could be space debris, a nebulosity, the remnants of a cometary tail, a whole bunch of things that are harmless.”

“But if it should be harmful?” Emily asked.

“That tail would take nearly fifty years to diffuse out of Pern’s orbit, some into Rukbat—the rest, who knows?”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Any suggestions?” Paul asked finally.

“Yes,” Ezra said, straightening his shoulders with a wrench. He held up two fingers. “Take a trip to the Yokohama, find out what’s bugging the probes, and send two of ’em down to the planet to gather as much information as we can. Send the other two along the line of that cometary dust and use the Yoko’s more powerful space scope with no planetary interference to see if we can identify its source and components.” Ezra then locked his fingers together and cracked his knuckles, a habit that always made Emily shudder. “Sorry, Em.”

“At least you can recommend some positive action,” Paul went on.

“The big question is, Paul, is there enough fuel to get someone to the Yoko and back? Kenjo’s already made more trips than I thought possible.”

“Good pilot,” Paul said discreetly. “There’s, enough for what we need now. Kenjo will pilot, and did you wish to go with him?”

Ezra shook his head slowly. “Avril Bitra has the training for the job.”

“Avril?” Paul gave a harsh bark and then shook his head, grinning sourly. “Avril’s the last person I’d put on the Mariposa for any reason. Even if we knew where she is.”

“Really?” Ezra looked at Emily for an explanation, but she shrugged. “Well, then, Kenjo can double. No,” he corrected himself. “If something’s wrong with the probes, we’d need a good technician. Stev Kimmer. He’s back, isn’t he?”

“Who else?” Paul jotted down names rather than worry Ezra with more suspicions.

“Kenjo is a very capable technician,” Emily insisted.

“There should be two on the mission, for safety’s sake,” Ezra said, furrowing his brow. “This mission has got to give us the results we need.”

“Zi Ongola,” Paul suggested.

“Yes, the very one,” Ezra agreed. “If he runs into any trouble, I can have Stev at the interface for expert advice.”

“Forty years, huh?” Emily said, watching Paul underline the two final choices on the pad. “Rather longer than we’d bargained for, my friend. Let’s start training replacements.”

Inevitably their thoughts went to Wind Blossom, so obviously a frail vessel to continue the work her grandmother had begun.