If they were extremely careful to use sleds and skimmers on only the most critical errands, they might just last out Pern’s current pass through the Oort cloud matter. But when it came around again, what would they do? Paul winced as he remembered the arrogance of Ted Tubberman in preempting the dispatch of the homing device. Had the man known how to activate it properly? Ironic, that! Would it be received? Acted upon? With the help of the technological society they had foresworn, his descendants could survive. Did he want them to? Had they any other choice? With adequate technology, the problem of Thread could possibly be solved. So far, ingenuity and natural resources had failed miserably.

Fire-breathing dragons, indeed! A ridiculous concept, straight out of folk tales. And yet …

Resolutely Paul began to scroll out the stark facts and figures of the colony’s dwindling supplies.

“Tarrie!” Peter Chernoff came rushing to greet his sister from the cavernous barn set on the east edge of the Seminole Stake headquarters. A tall young man, he was able to look down at the riders who were surrounding him. “Say, you guys, where have you all been?”

“We’ve been reporting in to Fort everyday,” Sean said, surprised.

“I made yesterday’s report and even spoke to brother Jake,” Tarrie added, her expression anxious. “What’s the matter, Petey?”

Reluctant to explain, Peter stamped his feet as he hedged and hawed. “Things are getting tougher. We’re not to fly anything anywhere that isn’t a priority number one top emergency.”

“So that’s why we saw so much Thread damage,” Otto said, shocked.

Peter nodded solemnly. “And there’s Fall at Fort Hold today, and they’ll have to sit it out.”

“Without any attempt …” Dave Catarel was appalled.

“Transporting Landing to the north put too big a strain on sled and power packs.” Peter peered down at them, judging their reaction. “And the governor was injured, you know. No one’s seen her in weeks.”

“Oh, no,” Sorka said, leaning into Sean for comfort. Nora Sejby began to weep softly.

Peter gave another of his solemn nods. “It’s pretty bad. Pretty bad.”

Suddenly everyone was demanding news of his or her own kin, and Peter did his best to answer when he could. “Look, guys, I don’t sit on the comm unit all the time. The word is out to sit tight and keep the home stake as clear as possible with ground crews. There’s plenty of HNO3, and it’s easy to maintain tanks and wands.”

“But not the land,” Sean said, raising his voice authoritatively. The babble died abruptly, and his riders looked to him. “There’s Thread at Fort today, you said. When?”

“Right now!” Peter replied. “Well, it starts out over the bay—”

“And you have throwers here? Ten of ’em that we could use?” Sean asked eagerly.

“Use? Well, you’d have to ask Cos, and he’s not here right now. And what do you need ten throwers for?”