Free All the Weyrs of Pern by Anne McCaffrey Page A

identified several of the instruments: a gitar, a fiddle, and something with a pipelike sound; and then voices, untrained but enthusiastic and musical. The melody was hauntingly familiar to her; the words, though clearly sung, were not. The quality of the sound, however, was incredible. These voices and instruments had not been heard for centuries, and yet the sounds were as unblurred by time as if the musicians were present. When the song ended, she couldn’t speak for the wonder of it.
    “Was that not satisfactory, Master Menolly?”
    She shook herself. “It was immensely and incredibly satisfying. I know that tune, too. What did the . . . settlers”—yes, she thought, Lessa was right to call them by that less intimidating noun—“call it?”
    “ ‘Home on the Range.’ It is classified as American Western folk music. Several variations were included when the music library was installed in the memory banks.”
    She would have asked for more, but Piemur came striding into the room carrying a strange contraption, a thin wide ribbon of colored strings hanging from one side. The front of it resembled part of the Aivas worktop, a series of depressions in five ordered ranks under a dark sheet of what looked to be more plastic.
    “Kindly hold it over the view panel, Piemur. Level with your head, please.” There was a long pause for assessment. “It seems to be correctly assembled. A final check will be its installation and activation, but that must wait on a power source and connections to this board. How is Master Terry progressing with the wiring?”
    “I don’t know. He’s in another room. I’ll just go and check for you. Here, Menolly, hang on to this. I don’t want to risk dropping it.” With an encouraging grin, Piemur deposited his load in her arms and half ran down the corridor.
    “Why do you have that?” Jancis asked, arriving with a similar object in her hands.
    Menolly told her and watched while Jancis repeated Piemur’s antics. Right behind her came Benelek, Lord Groghe’s clever son, who was now a smith journeyman. Fandarel had found him so extremely inventive that Menolly was not at all surprised to see him taking an active part here.
    When Aivas had approved their efforts, Benelek wanted to know when they could hook up.
    “When there is power available. So, Journeyman Benelek, you may as well assemble another keyboard while you’re waiting,” Aivas replied. “Ten are possible with the parts in hand. Two need replacement screens, if the Glassmaster will oblige.”
    “I really do not understand how you would be able to handle twelve people at once, Aivas,” Menolly said.
    “You play more than one instrument, do you not? That is, if this facility has properly understood the training practices of your Hall.”
    “I do, but not all at once.”
    “There is in this facility many parts, each of which can operate separately and simultaneously.”
    Silently Menolly considered that concept, unsure how to respond. Then, just when it would have begun to seem rude for her to remain quiet, Master Terry came trotting down the corridor, loops of material strung all over him.

3
     
     
    D OWN THE HALL , in the refurbished conference room, seven Lord Holders, eight Craftmasters, eight Weyrleaders, and four Weyrwomen were assembled in an extraordinary meeting. Harper Journeyman Tagetarl had been brought in to take full notes of the proceedings.
    F’lar stood up to take charge, though everyone could see that Master Robinton would have been happy to officiate. There were those who thought the Harper had not looked so animated and vigorous in many a Turn, and assumed that the rumors of his decline must have been vastly exaggerated. Note was also taken that the Weyrleaders looked less haggard, almost cheerful—even optimistic.
    “I believe you’ve all been introduced to Aivas,” F’lar began.
    Lord Corman of Igen snorted. “Introduced? To a talking wall?”
    “It is much more than a talking