“Tom Patrick says Wind Blossom chooses to distrust the male half of this leadership.” Paul grinned. Actually he did find the situation ludicrous, but since Wind Blossom had immured herself in her quarters until she “had a fair hearing,” he had grasped the opportunity to transfer personnel to more productive employment. Most of them had been grateful. “You will, of course, continue to monitor the new dragon hatchlings.”

“Of course. What’s the latest word from Sean and the others?” Pol asked, a trifle anxious. He and Bay had discussed their continued absence, beginning to wonder if it was deliberate. They both knew that Sean resented the dragonriders’ messenger status. But what else could he expect? Everyone had to do what he could. Pol and Bay themselves were not exactly inspired by Kwan Marceau’s project to monitor the grubs from the grass plot at Calusa, but that was where they could perform a useful service.

“They should be here soon.” Paul’s voice and expression were neutral. “When does Kwan anticipate a northern trial on those worms of his?”

“More grub than worm,” Pol said didactically. “Sufficient have been propagated for a ground test.”

“That’s good news indeed,” Paul said heartily, rising to his feet. “Remember, tomorrow won’t be a good day for any kind of test!”

Pol and Bay exchanged looks. “Is it true, Admiral,” Pol asked, “that you’re not going to fly the full Fall across the mountains?”

“That’s right, Pol. We have neither the personnel, the power, nor the sleds to do more than protect the immediate area. So, if those grubs are of any assistance, we will all be grateful to you.”

When they had left, Paul sank back down in his chair, swiveling to look out the window at the starlit night. The northern climate was colder than that of the south, but the crisp air made the now-familiar star patterns crystal clear. Sometimes he could almost imagine that he was back in space again. He sighed heavily and picked up the terminal. He had to find some vestige of hope in that depressing inventory Joel had submitted.

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 …