"Do you think this one man is responsible for all those thefts and vandalism? Too wide a spread."

"Quite right, but there are enough people with petty grievances against hold and hall who might delight in causing trouble here and there." He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, relishing the warmth. "I don't consider that as serious a problem as deciding what more refinements"-he pointed to the heating unit-"we can safely introduce."

"No one has objected to having better lighting and heat," Lessa said. "After all, solar panels came with the Ancients. So did hydro-engineering and generators. We just have to speed up the education process to produce the necessaryimprovements that will reduce drudgery After."

"I don't approve of life being made too easy," F'lar remarked.

"You were never a drudge," she said caustically, reminding him of her ten Turns spent as one.

"Don't forget that this Weyr was scarcely luxurious until Thread started falling again."

"How could I?" She grinned at him, her eyes alight with laughter. "But that doesn't mean an indiscriminate release of technology. The Crafthalls are the worst offenders there."

"You mean, you object to what Master Oldive is doing in surgical procedures and more effective medications?"

"Of course not," she said with a scowl. "But I don't think everyone agrees with some of the surgical stuff." She gave a little shudder.

"You would if your life depended on correcting an internal problem, like your guts protruding out of your belly because the stomach lining had ruptured," F'lar said with a humorless laugh.

"Sharra said it's called a hernia and is not life-threatening," she responded in a brusque tone. Then, in an abrupt change, she exhaled. "I take the point. We have to educate others to do so."

"Agreed, and we have to get our younger riders to educate themselves, too, for After."

"Well, some will have no trouble," she said. "They don't consider it beneath their dignity to deliver messages or transport urgently needed bulk items. Tagetarl sent us a copy of the dictionary that he copied from Aivas's files with definitions of technical terms. Far more current than anything the Harper Hall has. Sebell said he's got orders from every major hold, nearly all the minor ones, and most of the halls."

"Then maybe understanding and defining a technological vocabulary will become wider spread."

His facetious tone caused her to grin. "That wouldn't hurt. But it's the older riders, who show absolutely no interest in supporting themselves After, who worry me. Why is it so belittling for a dragon and his rider to extend their abilities in other quite respectable pursuits? They knowthat living in Southern is not a matter of flinging up some fronds to cover a hut on the white sands and picking ripe fruit off the nearest tree. They won't even consider helping the beastherders to keep the feline predators from causing witless stampedes into gorges and ravines even if dragons have always killed their own food. Dragons don't share their kills, even with their riders."

It was F'lar's turn to chuckle at her acerbic remarks. "If you're hungry enough, I suppose roast feline can be tasty."

"Sharra said it's tough and often tastes more of fish than flesh."

"We've sixteen more Turns of Threadfall, love," he said, refilling her wineglass.

"Now," and she gave him a sly look, "if Benden's Weyr-leader should make a decision as to what he will do After?"

He chuckled indulgently as he held Manora's basket of delicacies out to her. The spicy odors wafted her way.

"What is Manora tempting us with?" she wondered, unfolding the napkin.

"They certainly smell palatable. You take your pick."

She did, delighting in the flaky pastry and the spicy filling. "I think," Lessa mumbled through her full mouth, "that she plans to go from one end to the other of the recipes she had us download from the Aivas files."

"It's a shame she never got down to speak to Aivas. He'd've liked her."

Lessa grimaced. "If you remember, we offered to take her many times and she refused. There was always too much to do." She licked the last of the pastry flakes from her fingers.

F'lar sat down and she noticed the bone-weariness evident in the slow way he settled his body in the comfortably padded chair across from her. Only with her did he have the luxury to relax. If she missed the painful stiffness that indicated his bones were aching, Mnementh would tell her and she'd make him take a dose of the medication Oldive had made to relieve the problem.

"Is there ever enough time?" she asked.

"There should be." He scowled, sweeping back the forelock that was silver now. "There should be all the time in the world After."

"Have you decided where we'll go After?" He frowned, brushing the inquiry aside. She fretted at his reluctance. They certainly should have their choice of residence, barring beautiful Honshu in deference to F'lessan's proprietary interest in it. But what-and a dreadful thought arose from the deepest part of her mind. She did not refuse that flash of unnecessary alarm; she did hold it deep in her thoughts. What would happen if Ramoth should fail to rise to mate in the coming Turns, as Bedella's Solth had done recently? R'mart had gratefully retired to Southern with his Weyrwoman. But somehow Lessa had always assumed that she and F'lar would remain Weyrleaders until the end of this Pass. There wouldcome a time, even if it wasn't imminent, when Ramoth would not feel the challenge of fertility. Lessa gave her head an impatient shake, smiling as she remembered the most recent time Ramoth had risen gloriously to challenge the bronzes and Mnementh had vigorously conquered. Her grin broadened as her dragon caught that thought. But Mnementh lived in constant danger of injury.

He is strong and clever fighting Thread. He evades score and ash as nimbly as any green,Ramoth responded in stout support. Mnementh is the only bronze I will ever accept and there isn't another as daring. Even if he sleeps more than he used to. Be easy.

With the bond between the riders so acute, F'lar invariably knew when Ramoth had spoken to her rider. He cocked one eyebrow at his weyrmate.

"What's on her mind?" Then he chuckled. "Or yours?"

"When are you going to make up your mind where we'll go After?" she asked with a hint of exasperation, as if that was what occasioned Ramoth's remark.

F'lar gave her a long patient look. "We can go where we want. Be certain of one thing: we shall not be dependent on anyone." Briefly his jaw settled into an inflexible line.

"That will make a very nice change," she said at her driest.

"We could see if one of those eastern islands would suit."

"What?" She scowled fiercely at him, realizing that she had risen to his bait. He chuckled again. At least he was in a good mood.

"I know the weather here's terrible but I've spent all my life in this pile of rock." He shot her a look to see if she would disagree.

"Rock is cool in the summertime," she agreed diffidently, then added in a nostalgic tone of voice, "When I think of how much history we have made here…"

"Indeed. And how many changes have occurred since we became Weyrleaders."

"Too sharding many losses in the past Turn, too."

"There is a time for every purpose under the heaven,' " he quoted softly.

Tears welled quickly in Lessa's eyes at that reminder of Robinton-and Aivas. Two Turns and a few months were not enough to distance that double loss.

"I miss Robinton so much."

"Who doesn't?" F'lar replied softly, lifting one hand briefly in resignation before he continued. "I was thinking more of Laudey and Warbret. And good old R'gul." He let out a sigh of remembered frustration.

"We must be charitable," she reminded him in her more usual caustic fashion. The bronze rider had been a thorn in both their sides despite his outward acquiescence to F'lar's Weyrleadership. There was always the hint, when R'gul took orders from F'lar, that he, R'gul, would have done differently. "He did obey, you know, and his wing thought highly of him as a leader."