“Until those dragons start earning their keep,” Paul said. “But this settlement must be restructured.” Emily and he had been discussing redispositions for days. They had been waiting for the right moment to broach the subject to the others of the informal Landing council.

“No,” Ongola said, surprising everyone. “We must resettle completely. Landing is no longer viable. It used to be sort of a link with our origins, with the ships that brought us here. We no longer require that sense of continuity.”

“And most especially,” Jim picked up the thoughts, “not with volcanoes popping up and spouting off in this vicinity.” Jim shifted in his chair, settling in to discuss basics. “I’ve been listening to what people are saying. So has Ezra. Telgar’s notion about moving to that cave system on basement rock in the north is gaining strength. The cave complex is big enough to house Landing’s population—plus dragons! We’re not out of raw materials to make plastic and metal for housing. But making it takes time away from the essential task of fighting Thread and keeping us alive. Why not use a natural structure? Use our technology to make the cave system comfortable, tenable, and totally safe from Thread?”

Emily did not even pause to take a breath. “Just what Paul and I have been discussing. There’s enough fuel, I believe, to transport some of the heavier equipment by shuttle. Then we can use the metal in situ. Jim, the Pern Navy is about to be commissioned.”

Paul grinned at Emily. It was much easier when people made up their own minds to do what their leaders had decided was best for them.

PART THREE

CROSSING

Chapter 17

11.18.08 Pern

“Holiest of holies,” Telgar murmured respectfully as he held his torch high and still could not illuminate the ceiling. His voice started echoes in the vast chamber, repeating and repeating down side corridors until finally the noise was absorbed by the sheer distance from its source.

“Oh, I say, mate, this is one big bonzo cave,” Ozzie Munson said, keeping his voice to a whisper. His eyes were white and wide in his tanned, wind-seared face.

Cobber Alhinwa, who was rarely impressed with anything, was equally awed. “A bleeding beaut!” His whisper matched Ozzie’s.