Chap. 193 Change of Attitude

Chap. 193 Change of attitude

K'ndar had just sat down to his lunch in one of Landings' several dining halls.

"Mind if I join you, mate?" said a voice.

K'ndar looked up from his lunch in one of Landing's several dining halls.

His jaw dropped in recognition.

"Um, uh…sure, Shawn," he said, astonished at the civil tone from the insufferably haughty Acquisition manager.

The man had a pair of mugs in one hand and a bottle in the other. He put one of the mugs directly in front of K'ndar and sat down across from him.

K'ndar looked to his left and right in the sparsely peopled hall. Was anyone he knew actually witnessing this? The snooty, avaricious Shawn actually choosing to join him when there was plenty of other spots? He'd deliberately chosen this spot, far from the center, in order to eat by himself. He wasn't ready to chat chat with anyone, especially this yob. Of all the people here at Landing, Shawn was the last one he wanted anything to do with.

"Been here long?" Shawn asked, breaking the strained silence.

"Um, no, just got here about ten minutes ago," K'ndar said, thinking, I really just want to eat my lunch without conversing.

"You're here on business?" Shawn asked. He wrenched the cork from the bottle and poured a generous amount into K'ndar's mug.

Still astonished, K'ndar said, "Um, yeah, I'm here with my Weyrleader, he's got business, I'm just the dragonholder," he said.

"Oh, I don't believe that, you're far more important a rider to Kahrain than just a flunky," Shawn said, and the obsequious tone made him even more uncomfortable.

K'ndar looked at him, trying to discern Shawn's motives for his uncharacteristic civility. Shawn poured a smaller amount into his own mug. K'ndar didn't miss it.

"Actually, I AM a flunky, a very low ranking brown rider, nothing more," K'ndar said, warily. He felt as if this were a chess game he'd suddenly been tossed into-and he'd never been good at chess.

Shawn waved a finger in disagreement.

"No, K'ndar, actually, you're highly regarded, here at Landing, the discoveries you've made, the expeditions you've led, the artifacts! Do you know, your datalinks are proving VERY popular with people all over Pern," Shawn said.

Hmmm

"That was my intent, Shawn, for all of Pern to enjoy the artifacts. And you're badly mistaken, I've not led an expedition, not really. My trip to the island was an utter fluke, a mistake in judgement. As for Far Western and the steppe? I grew up on the steppe, and in both of the expeditions, my Weyrleader, D'nis, was 'in charge'. I'm the biologist, that's all," he said. He had no intentions of telling Shawn D'nis was no longer weyrleader.

"And a GOOD one, I must add. For instance, those smandas you discovered," the man said, and K'ndar noted the barest flick of annoyance before the painfully forced cheerfulness returned to the man's eyes.

I might not be socially adept, he thought, but I know body language. Something's afoot here, and it's as smelly as a barnyard.

"They're proving to be utterly fascinating, and perhaps even productive," Shawn said. "You're probably the best biologist I've ever known," he said.

"Thank you, but if that's true,it's only due to Rahman's tutelage, giving me books, encouraging me to learn," he said, suddenly tired of the preliminary fencing. Shawn wanted something badly enough to be civil.

"And you've done far better than he could have ever hoped for, I bet you're his 'star' student, ha ha! Get it? 'Star?'

Shawn was expecting him to suck up the compliment. Instead, he said,

"Shawn, I've never liked guessing games. In the past, you've treated me like, quote, "a dungbooted arse," and now you're plying me with wine and treating me with respect. Which am I, dragonrider? Or dungboot?"

Shawn gulped.

"I..I never said such a thing," he said, blanching.

Ah.

"Perhaps not, but D'arad quoted you the last time I was here. I remember quite distinctly, he said you referred to me as 'that dungbooted arse', told him to send me packing once he learned the coordinates for Far Nowhere, and the smandas are "Landing's pie". I've not had dung on my boots in a long time, and as for being an arse, I'll take it as a compliment from someone like you."

Shawn cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed..or pissed? He shook his head.

"Shards, D'arad. He's jealous, that's all. He's infatuated with me, I think, despite my being in a relationship with someone my own age. You don't think I'd call you names, do you?"

K'ndar stood up, his lunch suddenly unappealing. He picked up his tray.

"Yes, I do. And if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go and look after the dragons," he said.

Shawn raised a hand. "Please, sit down. You've barely touched your lunch. Have a drink, eh? This is good wine, my friend. Look, I'm sorry for that, I am. I was…annoyed with D'arad, you see, but…but K'ndar, let's say this wine is my way of apologizing, trying to clear up any misunderstandings," he said.

"Sorry, indeed, Shawn, I don't drink when I'm on duty," he said. He wasn't going to reveal that he didn't drink at ALL.

Shawn frowned. "Don't waste this stuff, it's fine, K'ndar. You just got here. I know from experience that your weyrleader's going to be in a meeting all day. He won't know a thing."

"But I will, Shawn. I don't question my weyrleader's orders, nor do I tell him when it's time to leave. He wanted me to accompany him, and I said 'Yes, Sir'. And I don't want any of your wine, thank you. Now if you'll excuse me," he said.

"K'ndar, don't be pigheaded. One little drink? Besides, I have a proposition for you that you won't regret taking me up on," Shawn said.

He suddenly figured out what Shawn was up to.

"Let me guess. You want me to let you have first crack at any artifacts I may find in the future?"

Dismay flashed across Shawn's face, immediately replaced by-avarice.

He nodded, trying to look apologetic.

"You're smarter than I gave you credit for, K'ndar, and I'm truly sorry to have misjudged you. Sit, for a minute? Please?"

K'ndar was now amused. He sat, more for the entertainment than for a desire to do anything with or for Shawn.

He said nothing.

Shawn produced a coin and placed it on the table directly in front of K'ndar. With one finger, he pushed it towards K'ndar until it just barely touched the wine mug.

It was a new, ten mark coin.

"K'ndar. First of all, we all know all artifacts are to be turned into Landing. But..who makes the decision between artifact and just some thing, that may or may not be valuable? It's hard to tell without training. I've had people bring in an old boot, insisting it's from the Ancients, and it breaks their heart when I have to tell them that it's just an old boot. That's what I've done for years here at Landing, classifying the things that people bring in," he said.

K'ndar thought, I'd love to see who created that coin. Toric? Is it even real? But I'll saw off my own arm before I'll touch it.

"K'ndar, you must know, that you have a reputation, now, one for finding things. Many have been artifacts, but things can be valuable without being an artifact, you see? That's what my job has been all these years, differentiating between what is a valuable thing and what is an artifact. It's not easily done, sometimes, and other times, it is. For instance, while the smandas are 'valuable', they're NOT artifacts. They're animals, like a cow, or a dog. The directive to donate them to Landing doesn't apply. See the difference? Artifacts flat out go to Landing. Valuable things are negotiable. They don't always have to come to Landing. You can keep a valuable, you know. But…if you keep it and don't sell it, it's not valuable. If you want to be, let's say, compensated for a thing, who do you know who would buy it?

I've been in Acquisition here at Landing for a long time, K'ndar, and I've learned that when something valuable is brought in, its value is assessed, often, on the spot and the finder, the donator, is given a small reward for it. VERY small. Minute, when you consider how much more someone outside of Landing will pay for it. For instance, those vacuum bottles you brought in? Everyone on Pern wants one, and Landing is making a tidy amount of income for them," Shawn said, his voice low despite the relative quiet of the hall. "And what did you get for them? Nothing," he said.

"I remember that day, Shawn. It was you who gave me NOTHING for the vacuum bottles," he said.

Shawn's face turned. "Um, well, you see," he said, clearing his throat.

"I DO see, Shawn, and what I'm seeing at this moment is someone who has never evidenced any desire to do anything but enrich himself, at the expense of the people of Pern," he snapped.

Shawn narrowed his eyes. K'ndar saw the shift to a new tack in his eye.

"That's fair, K'ndar. You're absolutely right. I AM working to enrich myself. Had you come to me with those bottles when I was off duty, you would have walked off with a pocket full of coins rather than a pat on the back.

K'ndar, the smart seaman knows what the wind is going to do before it knows itself. Now that there's no thread to fight anymore, everyone has to adapt to the changes in the world. Dragonriders can't expect to live on the largesse of Hold and Hall anymore. Before, you dragonriders didn't have to worry about money. But now you DO, K'ndar. Especially your weyr, K'ndar, I've heard you've lost a lot of dragonriders to other weyrs, even Holds. That's because those riders? They saw the wind change before it came. They're being paid very well for using their dragons for all sorts of things. They're enriching themselves, K'ndar. Why don't you do the same? A man like you shouldn't have to worry where his next meal is coming from," Shawn said.

Like this one in front of me, which I suddenly have no stomach for? Right, K'ndar thought.

"That's why I think you should consider this, um, token of my esteem for your talent at finding artifacts. Throw in with me, mate, and I'll make sure you are paid handsomely for what you turn in to me, far more than what Landing will pay," he said. "You can still live in your own weyr, if you choose. I wouldn't expect you to quit working with your weyrmates. But you can live anywhere, K'ndar, anywhere on the planet. This would be just a, um, a sideline. No one would need to know of our partnership," Shawn said.

Being in a relationship of any sort with Shawn turned his stomach...and outraged his ethics.

"I didn't want money, Shawn. I remember you were especially pissed when I insisted that the vacuum bottles specifically go to Landing for profit, " he said, half of him amused and the other half disgusted by what was obviously Shawn's attempt to snare him into fraud. "You never said a word about money, then, and suddenly now? I don't believe you," he snapped. "Let's add to that that 'paying' me for something I donated is dishonest," he said.

Shawn inadvertently rolled his eyes. Then, recovering, he said, "I WAS wrong about you, K'ndar, I should just have it out, what? OK. I'm well connected, K'ndar, I represent clients, wealthy men who want valuable things, who will pay you what you demand for a valuable thing, and won't ask questions. Nor will I. You bring me something that you can't tell is an artifact or is merely something of value, and I'll assess it. I'll see to it that you're compensated for it in amounts like this coin-only better. This ten mark coin? It's NOTHING, K'ndar, nothing in comparison to what you COULD get," Shawn said.

K'ndar rolled his eyes. "So, again, you're short changing me?"

He almost laughed at the expressions racing across Shawn's face.

"You're taking it all wrong, K'ndar! I've been a jerk to you in the past, and I apologize. But you can rest assured, if you should find another art ..valuable thing, bring it to me first. I'll determine if it's an artifact or just a thing, and I'll pay you handsomely for it," Shawn said. "In the meantime, this ten mark coin, it's yours. It's up front money, it's your finder's fee, you know, something to make life a little easier even before you bring me a valuable. Just something for you, I know dragonriders don't make much money," Shawn said.

"And no one at Landing need know about this...transaction? Just between us 'partners'?" he almost choked on the word 'partner'. He was now thoroughly disgusted.

"Ah, there you have it, lad! I see you've grasped it!"

"Hmmm. I'll have to discuss this with.." he said, to smoke the man out.

"NO!" Shawn shrieked, then, afraid he'd drawn attention, made himself small, and said, in a low voice, "No, um, K'ndar, that wouldn't be necessary, this is a 'business arrangement' just between you and me, you see. Just a private arrangement, like the private conversation we're having. People would be jealous, you know, seeing that I'd pay you far more than Landing's miserly finance people. Don't you see?" Shawn said, pleading.

K'ndar stood up, unable to tolerate any more.

"And, let me guess, you'd turn around and sell it to Toric, all on the quiet, yes? For an even more handsome price, what? No one the wiser, and should K'ndar actually ask someone here where is the ''valuable'' that he found and turned into Shawn, why, something bad would happen to that dungbooted arse, now wouldn't it? He might just disappear, dragon and all, right? Like other dragonriders who've crossed Toric? Just vanish, with no one knowing where or how?"

Shawn looked stricken…and furious.

Suddenly, understanding flooded his mind. Ah, now I know why he's almost begging me. I know. He's skimming Toric's money, charging Toric a lot more than he actually paid the finder. Or, he's sold it to a higher bidder. Toric's wondering where his toys are after paying him a lot of money. Either way, Shawn's nuts are in a vise.

He laughed behind his eyes.

"Bugger off, Shawn, and your master, Toric, too," he snapped.

"You bastard, you'll be sorry you crossed ME," Shawn hissed.

"I seriously doubt that, Shawn. Actually, I found it enjoyable. Good day."

He started to walk off.

Shawn jumped up and took his arm.

K'ndar turned and looked into Shawn's eyes. They'd turned from feigned friendship to something cold and deadly.

He shook the hand off. "Touch me again, and I'll rip your arm off and beat you over the head with the bloody end" he snarled.

Shawn wasn't impressed.

"Don't say a word about our conversation, K'ndar, or I'll report that you tried to bribe me," Shawn said.

"ME? Didn't you just say you know we dragonriders don't have any money? You're right, I don't have a coin to my name. You tried buying me, Shawn, but there is no amount of money you can shove at me that will make me throw in with you OR your master. Threats don't frighten me," he said.

"It's not a threat, K'ndar, it's a promise," Shawn growled, "I could have you banished from Landing, just like that, it's my word against yours."

K'ndar couldn't keep from laughing.

"Really!! You are truly an idiot, Shawn, such a dumbshit. You forget, I had a witness. He heard the entire conversation," K'ndar said, louder than necessary.

Shawn scoffed. "Nice try, arsehole, but there's no one close enough to have heard us."
K'ndar smirked.

"He's in the dragon meadow, Shawn. Don't you know a thing about dragons? No? They hear everything, every word, that's said to their rider. My dragon heard the entire thing, every word out of your mouth. When asked, he will testify, through any dragon on Pern. Every dragonrider-you do know that Lord Lytol is a dragonrider? Every dragonrider knows dragons are incapable of lying. I'm dead certain my dragon's testimony will stand up in any trial. So you might want to reconsider your attempt at threatening me." He picked up his untouched tray and walked off.

Shawn paled, but then snapped, "You'll regret this, K'ndar," at his retreating back.

K'ndar turned.

"Not as much as you, when Toric hears that you've been overcharging him and still not producing 'valuables'. Good day, Shawn. Enjoy your head while it's still attached."

Chap. 192 What is a Smanda?

Chap. 192 What is a Smanda?

K'ndar looked into the repurposed watering trough. A small smanda was swimming about in it.

He was struck speechless.

"Well, K'ndar, what do you think?" Raylan said, looking supremely satisfied.

"I'm..gobsmacked, Raylan. I don't know what to say, or think. Except, by the egg, they're uglier than I thought," he said.

It looked slimy. It SMELLED slimy, and it looked stupid. But, it noticed them and swam towards them. It placed its fore paws on the straight sided trough, reared up and opened its mouth.

K'ndar leaped backwards in terror. At the same time, Raventh was shouting in his mind.

Siskin sees it. He's panicking, he just went between.

WHAT?

Suddenly, Siskin appeared, hovering, hissing in fury. He took one look at the smanda and dived at it.

"NO!" Raylan shouted, trying to fend off the blue fire lizard.

The smanda dived to the bottom of the trough.

Siskin stopped just above the water's edge and still hissing, swept back and forth, trying to attack the smanda.

After a confused moment, K'ndar shouted, "Siskin, to me, here lad!"

Reluctantly, Siskin retreated to K'ndar's shoulder, his eyes red.

"Siskin. It's okay, he won't hurt me, calm down, little one," K'ndar said. He wondered if he was lying.

Raylan began to hum tunelessly. Siskin twisted his head, looking curiously at Raylan, and K'ndar felt the blue's heart begin to slow.

"Sorry, Raylan, I had no idea he'd react like that, I thought it was going to spit at me," he apologized. A smanda in a water trough was odd but if it was there at all it was for good reason.

Raylan stopped humming. "It's okay, K'ndar, I should have warned you rather than just pop this on you as a surprise," he said.

"What's with the humming?" he asked.

"Francie discovered it some time ago. When one of her fire lizards is afraid or upset, or angry, she hums to it, like a dragon queen will hum to her eggs," he said, and hummed again.

K'ndar, unconsciously, began to hum in harmony with Raylan, and Siskin's eyes slowed their whirling to less than warp speed. They stayed orange, though.

"Good lad," K'ndar said, stroking the lizard's head, "You were so brave to protect me."

Siskin heaved a large sigh, shook his wings out and re furled them neatly along his sides. He kept his eyes fastened on the smanda.

"Any specific tune I should hum?" he asked.

Raylan laughed. "No, I don't think dragons or fire lizards have songs," he said.

"Tell me why you have a live smanda in a horse trough?" he asked.

"In a short word, research. In the long words, I'm sure your Weyrleader told you our initial findings...that the saliva turning into webbing is an excellent water proofing compound. Well, it's not only that. The toxins in it, once they're distilled from the saliva, demonstrates topical and long lasting pain killing properties. The chemistry folks are in the process of trying to produce it synthetically, because obviously, 'milking a smanda' is not for the timid. But it's going to be valuable. We're just now teasing out some innovative uses for the saliva, and as you learned, it's easily handled and stored when dry. It's amazing stuff, K'ndar, and we're going to try and propagate these beasts, and perhaps, one day, they'll be just another barn yard denizen," he said.

"Not at MY hold, I promise you that!" K'ndar said.

"Now, now, K'ndar, I understand your feelings against them, but, allow your scientific brain to think this through. One of my staff has written up a preliminary report of the smanda itself, as well as initial assessment of the many uses we believe the saliva can provide," Raylan said.

"I'd like to read it, but...how did you get a live one?"

"G'alin and a team of unwitting volunteers went out to bring back 14 'pods'. The original one you brought back is being kept in estivation, or 'suspension', because they're not asleep, just torpid. They stay that way, as far as I know, as long as the soil surrounding the pod is dry. They survive the dry season until floodwater awakens them.

After looking at the pods for several days, we put two into this water trough, and this one erupted almost immediately. The second one was dead when we finally dared to open the pod. I think it was killed during between. So we dissected it down to its DNA," he said.

They watched the smanda recover from its fright and began to swim about again.

"Is this the only one you have 'awake'?

"No, there are several others, we didn't want to put all our smandas in one trough. So they're scattered here and there in odd spots on Landing. I believe one or two are in the horse barns, another in the cattle yard.

Lots of folks are always taking a look at them, one has already found out that they don't take kindly to being provoked. He was lucky, he only got webbed, as we are calling it, on his hands. And your antidote, vinegar, took care of that. Now word is out, don't tease the smandas.

The venom, it seems is only marginally detrimental to mammals, although upon application, it stings until it numbs one up.

But dragons, well, dragons are just too big, but tunnel snakes, wherries, birds? They seem to be the preferred prey. The victim is incapacitated, but alive. In every pod we opened, we found a live bird or snake, all wrapped up in netting, their metabolism slowed but not stopped. I think it serves as a food source so that the smanda has had something to eat once it emerges from estivation. Fish are unaffected, which is odd, considering that a fish lives in water all the time," he said.

He shook his head. "You felt bad for the poor prey creature, all wound up and still alive," he said. "We even tried removing the webbing, but the action was too damaging, none survived the attempt. In fact, they all died within a day of being pulled from the pod. Not sure why," he said.

"Did you dissect the prey?" K'ndar asked.

"No! What a good question, K'ndar. What are you thinking?"

"That maybe the prey isn't for the smanda, but for its eggs, assuming it lays eggs, or gives live birth. Perhaps the prey are parasitized, the adult lays it's eggs inside the prey animal, the babies hatch out inside the prey and eat it before they hatch. There were creatures on Vulcan and Terra that had the same sort of behavior. I remember reading about it and thinking, what a ghastly thing to do to the prey, but what a smart thing to do for the creature's progeny," he said.

Raylan slapped his head. "Dolt that I am! I should have thought of that! But we did keep the prey, so I'll have one dissected as soon as..well, it's crazy here these days, but they're refrigerated, so they'll keep. Good question, K'ndar, you're a good scientist," he said.

K'ndar felt a thrill of pride.

"How in the world did someone get webbed by a smanda? What was he trying to do, pet it?" he snorted.

Raylan said, "Exactly!"

He wanted to PET it?" K'ndar repeated, astonished.

"K'ndar, these creatures are intelligent. And relatively friendly. Watch this," and he bent over the trough and kissed at the smanda.

It swam up to where Raylan was standing, reared up again and made a strange sound, like a lamb bawling for it's mother.

Siskin hissed and recoiled. K'ndar put his hand on the lizard's back to reassure him.

He was repulsed by the smanda's eyes. Yet, despite looking flat and dead, there was something in their depths. He felt unnerved when it met his gaze and held it.


Raylan pulled a treat out of his pocket and showed it to the smanda. The smanda mewed again. "Go get it," Raylan said, and he tossed the treat to the far side of the trough. The smanda turned, watched to see where it fell into the water, then swam to it and engulfed it.

"If you've ever played fetch with a dog, you know that most dogs start running before you throw the stick, right? Well, the smanda only does that once. The next time, he watches to see where it lands before he spends the energy searching for it. That's pretty smart for a beast that hasn't had who knows how many thousands of years of domestication dogs have had.

"Huh. Playing fetch with a smanda? That's...bizarre. Sorry, but I don't see them becoming a pet anytime soon. They don't have a lick of cute, not like a colt or a kitten. And anyway, just what IS a smanda?" K'ndar asked.

"Ah, there is the question. It's an animal like no other known Pernese creature. For now, we've decided to catalog it as being in its own class and genus. It's DNA is unique, it's not related to anything that we have here on Pern and it's certainly not from off planet. About the only thing it has in common with other creatures is that is has six limbs, so we're confident it evolved here.

We've yet to come up with a scientific name for it, there's some argument going around about just who gets naming rights; the person who discovered it, meaning YOU, or the person who dissected it, getting smelly and sticky and thoroughly disgusted by the entire process, but gamely wrote up her findings?"

"Umm," K'ndar said, blundering. "I get to name it? Like I named the locust?"

"Yes, I know that's not how it's normally done, but, yes," Raylan said.

K'ndar looked at the smanda. "Who did the dirty work?"

Raylan shrugged. "One of my staff. She volunteered after several people, to include ME, refused to take on the job. Your ordeal with it had a lot of people scared," Raylan said.

"What will I get? I don't want money," he said.

"Biology doesn't pay, K'ndar, not at all. If you want to make money these days, create something or extract something. But the intangible reward is your name in the biology books, a scientific legacy, if you like," Raylan said.

"But, I wasn't the first person to see it. One of our Oldtimers did, before he came forward, he called it a 'smanda' and told us the antidote to the saliva's venom is vinegar."

"Oh. I didn't know that," Raylan said, puzzled. "Maybe he could come out here?"

K'ndar shrugged. "He's old, Raylan, I doubt he'd be interested in coming out here, I don't know if he can tolerate between anymore," he said. "I'd be afraid that his old bronze would just go between and never come out," he said.

His conscience tugged at his mind. "Besides, historically? the person who described it officially does the naming," he said.

"That's correct, K'ndar, and the girl who did the dissection already gets to name the class, as there doesn't seem to be anything quite like it here on Pern. Funny thing, Jansen, ..now there's a smart lass, took it as an personal insult that the database had nothing about smandas. Nothing! She dug and dug without success. So, she decided to try looking at the problem from an etymological point of view. "Smanda" is an odd word, it just doesn't sound Pernese. It had to have come from Terra, as that's where we humans are from, and all our animals. She hit pay dirt. "Smanda" is a corrupted form from the original word 'salamander'. A salamander, on Terra, was from the class Amphibia. Pern never had amphibians, the smanda isn't one. But apparently it resembles a Terran salamander, so whomever saw them, one of the Ancients? thought it was one. The word salamander fell into disuse, because, as we all know, they're uncommon and remote. Until you came upon them, knowledge of their existence had vanished. Had it not been for your Oldtimer's input, we'd have had to create a new name for it. And maybe not learned the benefits of vinegar!" Raylan said.

"Amphibian", K'ndar repeated, "I'll have to research that. I wonder if Terra's "salamanders" did the same things? Spit out venomous webbing?"

"No. Once we had a key word, the database had plenty of information about amphibians in general and salamanders in particular. Seems the salamander, unlike our beast, was a quite benign little creature," he said.

K'ndar nodded, a bit frustrated that now that Library was closing, he had no access to its vast database. Amphibians! Well, wait...he could use the datalink at Kahrain's growing library.

He dragged his mind back to the issue of naming.

"No decision has been made on naming it officially?" he asked.

We've discussed it in amidst the chaos of moving around. But she's willing to allow you to name it," Raylan said.


He struggled in is mind, trying to come up with something, then said, " Ah, never mind. That couldn't have been a nice job, cutting the beast up, so she's earned the right to name it. I'm sure the common name will be 'smanda'. I concede any naming right I have, Raylan, I really don't care," he said, "My compliments to the scientist who did the dirty work," he said.

Raylan smiled. "There's the spirit, K'ndar. Yes, we'll keep the common name, smanda, and when the lass names it, you'll be the first to know."

Chap. 191 Reorganizational chaos

Chap. 191 Re-organizational chaos


He had accompanied M’rvin, his Weyrleader, to Landing, with two goals in mind: to learn more about the smanda that he and G’alin had captured, and to check in with the library to see what new treasures had been printed. He also had several field notebooks to turn in, having painstakingly recopied them for archival. The messy ones stayed in his weyr.

Making his way to the library, he’d noticed an awful lot of activity among the buildings, especially considering it was relatively early in the day. What was going on? Then Jansen, the data tech, emerged from the library.

“Hello, K’ndar! Haven’t seen you for a while! I heard all about the smanda injuring your fire lizard,” Jansen said, “Is it okay now?”


K’ndar grinned. “I’ll let you be the judge!” he said, and, lengthening his arm, he chirped at Siskin, perched on his shoulder. The blue fire lizard sidled down the arm to his wrist. Once Siskin was settled, he said, “Siskin? Air show? Show off for Jansen?”

Siskin chittered and launched straight up, flying in a tight corkscrew. At the top of his climb, the fire lizard did a barrel roll. Then, flying as if he were flaming thread, he dived, skimming just above their heads. Jansen ducked, laughing.

Siskin landed on K’ndar’s shoulder. Jansen clapped in delight.

“Wonderful! How clever!” she cried, knowing most fire lizards were suckers for praise.


“Who’s a big bad dragon?” K’ndar said, in a gravelly voice. Siskin opened his wings and snaking his head back and forth, hissed like a steam kettle.

Me...I’m a big bad dragon, too Raventh chimed in.

Best of them all! You’ve made training him SO much easier.

“Oh, you’ve taught him tricks!” she said.

“Not as many as Francie’s, she’s trained hers to do shows, you know,” he said.

He listens to me. He loves you. He is a willing learner Raventh said.

Student K’ndar corrected, always seeking to widen Raventh's vocabulary.

Student

“I’ve heard a lot about Francie’s fire lizards. Funny, isn’t it, I see her frequently, she flies missions for us. Yet I’ve never seen her lizards do the tricks. I’ll have to get her to show them off someday,” Jansen said.


Siskin chirped.

“Oh, my, he’s heavily scarred, isn’t he?” Jansen said, sobering at the sight. Siskin’s hindquarters and legs were heavily crisscrossed with white threads.

“Yes, but he’s okay, now. Most of the injuries were on the meaty parts of his body. I’m afraid to think what would have happened if his wings had been snared. He was so patient with my care, the healer gave me a salve to rub into his skin. Brave little lad, he never struggled, didn't even cry when I'd rub it in, despite my knowing it hurt him. He’s all healed up, now. While he was healing, I took the opportunity to teach him some tricks. It helps so much that I have a dragon who can talk to him better than me,” he said.

He scritched the blue’s head.

“You go roost on Raventh now, Siskin, I’ll be inside for a while,” he said.

Siskin dropped his head for an instant, then chittered and took flight.

“I’d love to have one,” she said, watching the blue fly away, “but I know they require a lot of time and maintenance, and I just don’t have the time,” she said.

“I’m glad you realize that, some people get one and then end up regretting it because they DO take a lot of time. Just like dragons, and they bond for a lifetime, I think,” he said.

“Are you going inside? Because, I have to warn you, there’s been a lot of moving and re-arranging going on. This is the last day Library will be open for a while, they’re moving and all the books are boxed up,” she said.

“Moving? Moving where? Out of Landing??” he cried in dismay, “I wanted to turn in my field notebooks, and see if there’s anything new that’s been printed,” he said, disappointed.

“No, not out of Landing, just into a larger building. There’s no end of the buildings here, they’ve been excavating them and as one is opened up, they put people in them. Instead of scrubbing data, I’ve been scrubbing floors,” she said, ruefully. “But it’s been raining a lot, lately, so if I have to be inside, at least I’m off my butt for a while, even if I do have to scrub,” she said.

“What, why...” he said, confused.

“Things are all upside down right now. Landing is being re-organized. Some sections are being consolidated, some are being restructured, others are being disbanded. The goal is to get related branches of service or research all together in one building. So there’s a lot of moving of equipment, it’s been a big noisy mess for several weeks now,” she said.

“Hmmm. That’s unfortunate, because I wanted to talk to whomever took possession of the smanda G’alin and I brought in,” he said. “I want to find out why Landing is interested in them,” he said.

“Because I see most of the data they input, I’ve learned that the smanda is a very unusual beast. They have all sorts of features, if that’s the word, that might prove to be extremely useful. For instance, their saliva? It’s perfect for sealing things against water,” she said.

“That’s what my Weyrleader said,” K’ndar said. “You said ‘they’ like there’s more than one? Was there more than one in the, um, pod? Nest? That we brought in?”

“Yes, there’s more. Science sent G’alin and a team back to Far Nowhere. They brought back, oh, a dozen smandas. I don’t know what else they’ve done, I’m sure Raylen can fill you in. Come on, I was just heading to work after my breakfast, and I’ll show you to his division’s new building. I’m sure he’ll be happy to fill you in. He’s been promoted, by the way! He deserved it, too. He’s Head of Science Division, now,” she said.

“Is that a big step up? And what is a ‘division’?”

She nodded as they entered Landing’s main building. Despite having been there several times before, K’ndar was still amazed at the automatic doors, ones that opened with just a wave of one’s hand.

“It is a big step up, in responsibility, at least. Divisions are like wings, in the same manner as dragon riders wings, they have wingleaders, aye? I’m sure that, as Lytol is Council Leader Emeritus as well as a dragonrider, the divisions are exact replicas of wings. So Raylen is now a Wingleader,” she said.

“That’s great!” he said, genuinely happy for Raylen. Jansen waved at the man behind the reception counter. “Hi, this is K’ndar, he’s with me,” she said, as she snagged a Visitor ID badge from a basket on the counter.

“I know him, Miss Jansen, I’ve seen him before. Welcome back, K’ndar,” the man said.

“Thank you, sir, it’s nice to be back,” K’ndar said. He felt embarrassed that he had no idea of the man’s name, nor did he remember ever seeing him.

Jansen handed the lanyarded badge to him. “Hang this around your neck, it will open most doors for you,” she said.

“”Most?”” he repeated.

“Yes, which can be tricky, it’s easy to get lost in this maze,” she said.

“I can see that! How did you ever find your way around?”

“Oh, I got lost, more times than I like to admit, at first. It’s no better now, as EVERYBODY is moving around at the same time. Sometimes there’s piles of books and computers in a hallway while one team moves out, and the new team is waiting to move in. It’s all hands on deck, Management wants everything settled by the end of the month, so we’re busting our behinds.”

“Why are they rearranging?”

“Long story...when Aivas began introducing new concepts, new lines of research and development, new things and especially computers, people had to find a place to work. No one had ever made a detailed inventory of what was here, because fighting Thread was of utmost importance...then, of course, Aivas's arranging for the engines dropped on the Red Star...so things were allowed to just BE, you know, there were things that needed all our attention, and at the time, where you worked wasn’t a high priority. People would just find a spot in a building that had power restored, set up their equipment and start working. Some were in a building all by themselves on the edge of the compound, others would squeeze into whatever spot they could find in Landing Main. It was as if one’s home kitchen had been set up next to the harness maker’s shop next to the hay barn.”

He could see people moving all over, some with loaded carts.

“Management is determined to finally put the whole of Landing into logical order. They’ve created this huge map that is constantly being updated as offices report their status in moving. It’s a mammoth task. Everyone has to stop what they’re doing unless it’s vitally important and try to get it done. It’s probably why your Weyrleader is here, Management wanted representatives from every Weyr, Hall and Craft to gain their perspective. They’ve spent the last few weeks just trying to add up who does what where and why. Then they had to discuss if that venue is necessary, and to top it all off, they’re inventorying equipment. I wonder if we’re going to finish in time!

Adding to the chaos is that some folks resist moving their operations to some other building, or worse, being...um, disbanded. Some people have been in the same spot for years. The ones being disbanded are howling, too, despite Management’s promise that a new job will be found for them.”

“Disbanded? Meaning what?” K’ndar asked.

“Nice way of saying, no more need for that line of work. For instance, we don’t really need Threadfall forecasts now. Research on it will be curtailed, but not stopped. Believe it or not, Landing’s got a whole cache of thread spores, stored in vacuum to keep them dormant.”

“By the egg, WHY?” K’ndar shuddered, “That stuff is dangerous.”

“Someday, we might need to do more research on it. It will never be the threat it once was. I think the philosophy is taken from an old Terran saying, “keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” she said. “But there’s no need to predict its fall anymore. When it fell, the people who did that work were vitally necessary. But now? Now they’re out of a job. And out of sorts about it, to boot! They’ve had a nice long holiday, and only now has Management realized that they really aren’t necessary anymore," she said.

“No doubt! What do they do with the folks who are ‘disbanded’?”

“Oh, they’re given the opportunity to cross train into a new job,” she said.

“Huh. I bet there’s some resistance to that!”
“Oh, you have no idea! Once things got started at re-organizing, the engineers and maintenance folks, started getting a lot of pushback from the folks who had to move, we called them homesteaders or cotholders. Not all of them, mind you, but some folks, flat out refused to move. Oh, the moaning and whining to Management! They’d line up outside the entrance to Managements reception area, just waiting to give anyone a piece of their mind. They’d even gripe to me as I was walking past them. As if I have any power?” She snorted. Taking his arm, she said, “Come on, I’ve nattered long enough. Follow me.”

He was glad she knew where she was going. He’d been in Landing’s Main Reception building several times, but it was virtually empty now, and they were exiting through another door. They made their way past several buildings until he was completely lost.

“I’m pretty sure Science is in that one,” she said.

“Pretty sure? You’re not sure sure?” he said, nervously.

I know where you are. Siskin will find you and lead you to me if you need help Raventh said.

K’ndar laughed and felt better.

“I’m sure, K’ndar, don’t worry. We’re still in Landing,” she laughed.

“Well, Raventh just told me he’d send in a Siskin search party if I need it,” he said.

“Okay, Science is the next building over,” she said.

“I hope they’re going to put signs up? Can I just draw a rune on the side of the building?”

Jansen giggled. "That’s not a bad idea! I’ll pass that on!”

“What..so, what will be in the building where I got the badge?” K’ndar said.

“That will still stay as Reception for all visitors. Each division will have a representative there to further direct the visitors and guests,” she said.

“Like you?” he asked, hopefully.

“No, I won’t be working in there because I’m mid-level now, but there’s a girl who will be from my division who will help with the average citizen who comes in with data. The man at the front desk, he and others will be there to direct people who come to Landing. Oh, and it will be mainly for Council meetings with people from the Holds, Halls and Weyrs. It’s big enough to handle a lot of folks.

Each division will be in their own building, with related lines of research all together. Don’t worry, K’ndar, we’re planning of having kids wearing brassards who will take you where you want to go. The kids, K’ndar, they figure the buildings out like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “It’s a game to them, and it gives them a sense of purpose,” she said.

“I’ll keep an eye out for one, then, I don’t want to keep you tied up all day with me,” he said.

“Not to worry, I’ll drop you at Science, as I bet my boots Raylen’s there rather than in his main office. He might be Division head now, but he’s still a scientist and prefers being where it’s being done. When you’re ready to leave, just have him contact me, I’ll come and get you. Unless, of course, you want to wander through Landing for a lifetime,” she said, smirking.
“I’d rather not, but if I can find the dining hall and the Library, I’ll survive,” he said.

They entered the Science building. Here there was a reception desk, but it was unmanned.

He followed her through a maze of smaller offices, the doors whisking open before them and shutting with a woosh after they’d passed through. He laughed.

She turned, with a question mark on her face.

“I could play with the doors all day,” he explained, and she laughed, too.

“They are fun, aren’t they? We have to chase the kids off all the time, they’d be here opening and closing them forever if we didn’t,” she said.

“Do you, um..like being ‘reorganized”?”

“It’s okay, I guess. I have a lot more room in which to work, now, and putting Data all under one roof, with just one person to answer to, makes sense and the flow much smoother. And I don’t have Miklos nearby,” she shuddered at the idea of the reclusive DNA specialist. “He was, um, pretty rank and totally uncommunicative. Not that I wanted to chat with him! But I won’t be in the same building as Raylen, now. I’ll miss Raylen, that’s for certain,” she said.

“I’ll have to congratulate Raylen, then. Did this promotion put him higher than Shawn?”

Jansen stopped and looked at him with an odd expression, then smirked.

“Shawn. Hmmm. Shawn. Acquisition is now in its own building. So I won’t have to put up with High and Mighty Shawn anymore. Honestly, Miklos, for all his smelly faults, was far easier to work around. Shawn, though?” she said, pulling on his arm to bring his ear closer to her, said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Shawn’s been...well, let’s just say he’s being closely watched, now. He’s good at Acquisition, you know, but, too good.

Rumor has it that some of his acquisitions are missing, as is all of the supporting documentation. Shawn blames ‘sloppy intake’...always blaming someone else, and now, he blames the reorganization, but things don’t get lost THAT easily. Nor does he know that the moment something is entered into the database, it's sent to several offices, not just mine.  So I know that an item was turned in, but I don't know where it is.

The new policy is, whenever something is brought in, whether it’s useful or an artifact or just something a farmer turned up while plowing, whatever, it’s immediately cataloged and given a specific number generated by the database. Three people sign off on each item, rather than just the person at the front desk in Landing Main.

Before the things were just set aside where there was room for them and until Shawn had “time to examine them and categorize them”, she said, making quote marks with her fingers.
“Now there’s a secured building dedicated solely to artifacts and acquisitions, and most folks aren’t allowed in. Even me, I can’t get in there, but I don’t need to, I have access to the data they log in. I shouldn’t gossip, but it’s been suspected for a long time that Shawn, um, ‘redistributes’ acquisitions, and right now, they could be just about anywhere in Landing. THAT is being rectified with this reorganization. Although I'm betting some things will never be found," she said.

“Check his weyr,” K’ndar said immediately.

“Already done that, nothing out of the ordinary in his quarters. But...things just don’t go between without help,” she said. “Stuff just doesn't melt away into thin air. Someone has to make it disappear.

"Hmmph. I have a good idea where," he said.

"Yeah, me too. He was called in front of Council a few weeks ago, just him and the staff, so he could explain the shortfalls in acquisitions. When he came out he looked as if, he’d been, to quote my grandfather, “shot at and missed, shit at and hit.”

K'ndar snickered at that. “I’d have given a lot to see that,” he said.

“Oh, it gets better,” she said. “He’s on unofficial probation for the moment, they’re trying to determine if his position should be disbanded. He’s no longer allowed to handle anything brought in without a witness, so he’s actually been civil for a while. Very proper, all policy and protocol, you know? But, being Shawn, I don’t expect that to last long, he’ll figure out a way,” she said. “I can let you know more, later, because here we are,” she said.

They stopped in front of a large building. Someone had scribbled “Science Division” on a slate by the main doors.

“Oh, before I let you go, remember I said that some people resisted being moved or disbanded?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, it’s sort of funny. One man in my division, I don’t know him very well because he wasn’t in my building. He was pissed when he learned his position was being disbanded. He’d not really provided any work of any value in years. He argued with management, and flat out refused to take a new position or cross train. He insisted he be kept on at the same level if not promoted, no way was he going to let them just make his position disappear.

Management said they’d look at the issue one more time, but K’ndar, I know it was a done deal. The man arrowed his own foot by refusing their offer of a new job. That and his attitude, he was sneering at them, mocking their efforts to re organize. They were just trying to ease him out gently. I mean, what can they do? If everyone who wanted to live at Landing without a reason for being there, we’d be up to our necks with people. Landing’s not a Hold or Craft or even a Hall...it’s all of those and none.

I think it was just after that meeting with the man that Management had a crisis pop up. Someone had invaded their computers with a datalink! He did all sorts of mischief,” she said.

“Let me guess, Shawn?”

“Oh, nice guess but you give him too much credit. He’s not that clever,” she said, “No, it was, well, kind of funny. The man who didn’t want to give up his cozy position? It was his 10 year old kid. He used one of Library’s datalinks to tap into Management’s organizational planning database.
Oh, that kid was BUSY. He completely changed the re-organization chart. He re-arranged work schedules, changed building designations for entire divisions, disbanded the school teachers, changed the menus at the dining halls to have bubbly pies for every meal. And he deleted every Management position save for ONE, the head of Management, and who did he put in that position? Dear old Dad!"

K'ndar roared. "Not to difficult to track down the invader, I bet!"

Jansen laughed. "Like tracking a muddy dog across a clean floor. Even so, at first, it was a mess. For one entire day, we had a stand down to see what the shaff had happened,” she said.
"Once Management traced who had done it, the man was called in and told that his services were no longer required and he had a week to move out of his quarters and go elsewhere. I was told the shouting could be heard all over Landing, and the man’s argument was that HE wasn’t to blame, it was his KID’S fault. It made for some interesting reading, for sure!” she said.

“So, the man, did he leave?”

“Oh, yes. It was just two weeks ago. Packed up his family and took a ship to Northern, where was originally from, but cussed everyone out on the way. He got even, though. Once he'd vacated his quarters, the headwoman found that they'd trashed it. What a pigsty! Being that he was in my division, we were responsible for his quarters. It’s taken me and two others a whole week to get it even semi-habitable. There was no need for that! That’s where I’ve been working all this week, cleaning up. Good riddance, I say..he didn’t need to destroy the quarters.

But K’ndar, the funny thing is, I was responsible for curating Management’s report on the whole situation. It said, that, in essence, the kid was an organizational genius, he’d done a better job of re-organizing than they had, so from that moment on, they adopted the kid's organizational plan instead of their original one. AND ended the report with a footnote, “Let’s keep track of the boy, when he’s of age, HIRE him.”