Free Dragonseye by Anne McCaffrey Page A

Meranath’s throat was swollen with her sound, which continued unabated and seemingly without her needing to draw breath. Soon, as the volume increased, her chest and belly would begin to vibrate, too, with the intensity of her humming. K’vin was aware of the usual response in himself, a jumble of emotions; a joy that threatened to burst his heart through his chest, pride, hope, fear, yearning—oddly enough, hunger was part of it—and a sadness that, on some occasions, could make him weep. Zulaya always wept at Hatchings—at least, until Impressions began. Then she was jubilant, picking up on her queen’s acceptance of her clutch’s partnering.
    In Fort Hold’s storage there were file boxes full of early psychological profiles about the effect of Hatching on riders, dragons, and the new weyrlings. The bonding that occurred was of such complexity and depth that no other union could be compared to it: almost overwhelming in the initial moment of recognition, and certainly the most intense emotion the young candidates had ever experienced. Some youngsters had no trouble at all adapting to the intense and intrusive link: some suffered feelings of inadequacy and doubt. Every Weyr had its own compendium of information about what to do in such-and-such a situation. And every weyrling was assiduously trained and supported through the early months of the relationship until the Weyrleaders and Weyrlingmaster deemed he/she was stable enough to take responsibility for her/himself and her/his dragon.
    But then, a rider was the dragon, and the dragon the rider, in a partnership that was so unwavering, its cessation resulted in suicide for the dragon who lost his mate. The unfortunate rider was as apt to take his life as not. If he lived, he was only half a man, totally bereft by his loss. Female riders were less apt to suicide: they at least had the option of sublimating their loss by having children.
    When the little fire-lizards, who had supplied the genetic material to bioengineer the larger dragons, had still been available, a former male rider found some solace in such companionship. Only three fire-lizard clutches had been found in Ista in the last five decades; though it was thought more might be found in the Southern Continent, that quest had so far been futile. The vets had decided that some sort of odd disease had infected the creatures on northern warm beaches, reducing their numbers and/or their clutches. Whatever the reason, no one had fire-lizard companions anymore.
    As soon as most of the guests had crossed the hot sands, T’dam allowed the candidates to make a loose circle around the eggs. There was no golden egg in this clutch—a circumstance that had both relieved and worried the Weyrleaders. They had five junior queens, which was quite enough for Telgar’s low-flight wing. In fact, there was no dearth of queens in any of the Weyrs, but there was safety in having enough breeders.
    Five girls stood on the Hatching Ground. There should have been six, but the girl’s family had refused to give her up on Search since they claimed a union had been arranged and they could not go back on that pledge. As K’vin thought that a good third or even half of this clutch might be greens, he hoped there’d be enough suitable candidates to Impress all the green hatchings. Green dragons were valuable to a Weyr for their speed and agility, even if they didn’t have the stamina of the larger dragons. Still, they were perhaps the most problematic when it came to Threadfighting. Greens with male riders tended to be more volatile, apt to ignore their Weyrleaders’ orders in the excitement of a Fall—in short, they tended to unnecessarily show off their bravery to the rest of the Weyr. Female riders, on the other hand, while more stable, tended to get pregnant frequently, unless they were very careful, since the greens were usually very sexually active. Even spontaneous abortions due to the extreme cold of
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