Nerously gathered with other candidates and residents. Nervous? Yeah... I'm usually not nervous about much, but after all, this was THREAD. Sure, I've seen it before, off in the distance. And yeah, I know all about it. Who doesn't? But still, this would be the first time I actually fought it! Something I usually think of as being reserved for DragonRiders. But here I was, watching people suit up with agenothree tanks and grabbing shovels.
Seemed a bit disorganized at first. So many candidates. Most of them grabbing tanks. Watching them I had to wonder if they'd ever done it before. Dragons blinking in and out of
between, people running, people shouting - I was a bit lost. Lukily I saw Shim. He
always knows what he is doing... or at least seems to. I moved over next to him and asked what I had to do, having never served on a ground crew before. He gave me one of his famous,
What? You've got to be kidding me looks, but then told me to grab a shovel and stick close by him. And then all of a sudden I saw it
Over the sea to the east of Ista Weyr the grey smudge of Threads falling through the atmosphere can be seen and even though this part of the Fall is over water the command is passed through the ranks "Riders Up!" All the scurrying and excitement of the early morning dawn has reached it's peak. Thread is falling! The crowds of groundcrews that will be scouting the island, preventing the lush forests from falling to the threads start filing out of the Weyr, some to meet up with riders who will take them on ahead to the beginning of the fall and some will have to walk to their posts. No matter how they get their the groups are in high spirits, calling best wishes out to their friends.
Here it was... and it seemed like it was coming fast. Not like I'd seen it before - off in the distance - hitting where I couldn't even see. But coming right towards me. I glanced sideways at Shim, keeping my eye on the Thread and asked him what to do. He said stick close to him and he'd show me. He didn't have to tell me twice.
Full wings of Ista's dragons appear from *between* where the ocean meets the easternmost beach. Thread is already falling harmlessly into the water but it's not the thread that is unusual this morning. Strong winds are gusting up to forty miles per hour and forcing the strands of threads into large clumps. Dragons are already struggling with the winds and wings are hard put to keep in formation when the winds are pushing from the north steadily and in forceful gusts.
Half of my mind marveld at it. What a sight. Full wings of draongs. Just popping in. So organized. So beautiful. Trumpting - challenging the thread. This is what they had been born for, trained for, and they were ready. It made me proud to be serving at Ista. My adrenaline was already pumping, and then we noticed the wind. Shim said this wasn't a good sign. Things could go bad. I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't have a good feeling about it...
We just stood there watching it fall. It was still to far away for us to 'engage'. Many of the younger girl candidates seemed nervous. Not only nervous, but unexperienced. Some of them were throwing on tanks... even though it was apparent they had never worn them before. Once again I was glad to be with Shim. I mean, who wants to be partnered with someone whose never used a tank before? I had heard you could get seriously injured, or even dismembered if you accidently got sprayed. Yeah, give me someone who knows how to work one of those things. And then as we were all standing there, just waiting, it happened:
By some unspoken signal the forward wings of dragons surge forward to meet the threads before they reach the shallow waters and beaches. Dragon's open their mouths to flame but the flames are whipped to one side by the winds. One blue dragon in one of the upper levels is blown off course by a strong gust right into a thick thread tangle. Screaming with pain the blue vanishes *between* A few heartbeats later the dragons who have not yet engaged with thread start keening the loss of a wingmate. A worried hum passes through the lines if dragons and riders...a death in the first moments of Fall. This is going to be bad.
... There's not much I can say... Its something I hope to never hear again in my life. The scream of a dragon as it goes
between one last time... and the keening of its wingmates. But there was no time to grieve. Shim's knuckles turned white as he gripped the sprayer and with a grimness I've rarely heard in his voice, he told me to follow him.
And then it was upon us. I saw it moving in on other first. This didn't look good. They were trying to spray it as it got close to them, and it didn't seem to be working. Flames were shooting everywhere, caught by the wind and blown off course. If it was going to be like this all morning, someone was definately going to get hurt. But then I didn't have time to watch anyone else. Thread was falling at us! Luckily for me, Shim knew exactly what he was doing
Shimshon's aware and alert. Thread's been falling all his life, and he's been activly fighting it since he was old enough to hold a shovel. Without a moment of pause, Shim moves /away/ from the thread and actually lets it hit the ground. "Jarill, it's too windy to get it in the air, I'd just spray all over you. Dig it up, for me!"
and then it hit the ground. An uglier sight I've never seen. There it was. Burrowing into the ground, looking for anything it could suck the life out of. So unintelligent. So... well if it had a brain I'd guess you'd say
evil. It had taken a dragon, and now it was going for us. I attacked it with a vehemence I've never felt before, and just started digging. I opened a hole around it and Shim just started spraying. And then it was dead. Just a bunch of charred ash. Lying there on the ground.
From then on it was pretty much a blur. Thread falling everywhere. For a time it looked like we were going to lose the battle. It was hitting the forest and the trees were just falling! We seemed to have it under control in our area and I was tempted to go attack it where it was the thickest. To save what it was attacking hardest. But Shim told me no. We had to stay organized. We had to make sure and keep our area covered. Get every last bit. One thread. Just one left uncaught to burrow underground could do untold damage. He'd even heard of it taking out an entire island once. From then on it was mostly a combination of dig, jump back, watch him spray it and then either dig again if we hadn't gotten it all, or glance up to see where the next clump fell and start all over again. When I did have a few seconds free I'd glance around, once again grateful to be partnered with someone who knew what they were doing. There were others who had flames missing them by inches. I was surprised no one was hurt.
And then I heard Lela scream - and what a scream it was. My blood turned cold. I didn't see what happened, I was too busy with my own problems, but when I looked up there was blood running down her face. Later I heard she'd be hit by thread. Luckily her lizards got the brunt of it and it was just a small piece.
It continued like this for what seemed like forever. There was a small break - maybe it was gone? No, Shim said it was coming back. You could tell by looking at the front line of the fall. He refilled his tank and we started in again.
And then it was done. I just looked around in disbelief. A half acre of the forest gone. Holes everywhere. Shim wiping soot and sweat off his face. Candidates leaning on their shovels or bent over there tanks. Was it really over? Not quite. We still had to go look for burrows. With the adreniline wearing off and exhaustion starting to take its toll, we were grim faced and determined as we went to make sure our life enemy was gone. It wasn't long after when
One wing of dragons is doing a careful grid search of the areas seared by thread, the wingleader occationally sending a pair of dragonriders down to check a suspicious movment or a burnt area of brush where there had been thread. The area most carefully checked is the eastern slope of the outer weyr, where the big infestation had been taken care of. Finally all the wingleaders check in and S'dar sends out the all clear, the signal going out to individual riders who swoop down to call the groundcrews back into the Weyr.
And then yeah, it was over. Many of the candidates just dropped their gear and trudged back to the weyr. Shim just shook his head and started cleaning up. Piling tanks, gathering shovels. Yeah, there were maybe others that could do it, but it was obvious he wasn't one to shirk work until everything was done. We grabbed wineskins, doused ourselves in water, and kept working.
We helped clean up and then trudged back to the weyr. I was exhaused... but it was a good exhaustion. Yeah, we'd loss some friends. Taken some damage. But we'd done it. Pern, and Ista in particular was safe. At least for today. Hot food sounded great... but sleep sounded even better. I'd just spent what seemed like hours fighting thread, but the day had just started. And there was kitchen work to do. Food to prepare for lunch. Life goes on. So we walked back and headed to our dorm's. Me to the residencey dorm and Shim to the candidates quarters. But on the way back we talked some about the dis-organization. How lucky we'd been that no one else had been hurt. Shim said he was going to talk to the Steward about people being certified before they could handle the tanks. An excellent idea in my opioion. I know that I had certainly been happy to not use one, stick with someone that knew what they were doing and "just" wield a shovel.
As I said, I was exhaused and things hadn't gone perfectly... but in some respects it was a good day as well. I'd gotten to know Shim better in that short time that I had since I'd been at Ista. And I had a whole new respect for him. Yeah, he's got attitude, and seems a bit stand-offish... and that smirk of his. But when it gets down to it, I'd learned he was someone you could trust. And thats where it really matters.
As I feel asleep I thought back over the morning. Ista - once again I had that feeling of purpose. Of belonging. That yeah, maybe this was home - and then someone from the kitchen was shaking me, "Jarill, those tubers aren't going to peel themselves. The 'riders and groundcrews are hungry. Come on man, the day doesn't wait for you!"
