The Skies of Pern by Anne McCaffrey Read Free Book Online

moment in fond reminiscences of their Impressions.
    “You’re still keeping up with your studies?” F’lessan asked, indicating the old tome she’d been studying.
    “Why not?” she asked, with a wry grin. “It’s as good an occupation for a dragonrider as any.”
    After a pause, she asked, “Have you tried the Charter?”
    He blinked. “The Charter?”
    She waved toward the special case where the original Charter of the Pern Colony was housed.
    “Kimmer was an original colonist, wasn’t he?” she said. “He’d’ve had to sign his name somewhere, even as a contractor, wouldn’t he?”
    F’lessan got to his feet so fast he had to catch the chair from falling. His movement startled her.
    “Now, why didn’t I think of that?” he exclaimed with exaggerated self-castigation. He strode to the airtight case that held what was considered the most valuable, and venerable, document on the planet.
    Fort Hold had ceremoniously returned the Charter to Landing. Indeed, no one had known what had been stored in the thick container that had been gathering dust with other Hold treasuresuntil Aivas had told them what to look for. Aivas was certainly the only intelligence that had known the combination of the digital lock. Inside its airtight case, the Charter had been revealed to be pristine. Upon close examination, Masterwoodsmith Benelek remarked that the plastic-coated pages could not have been damaged by anything short of being chopped into little pieces by very sharp blades. Now the Charter was enshrined behind some of Master Morilton’s clear thick panes, mounted on a mechanism—also an Aivas design—that turned its pages to the one required.
    “The capital letters would be similar, wouldn’t they? Printed or written,” F’lessan muttered. “Your research skills are better honed than mine.” He shot her an appreciative grin. “Let’s get to the end … Ah, contractor, contractor,” he said under his breath as the pages shifted in sequence to the final ones containing signatures, many of them mere illegible scrawls. There were three sections: the first, of the Charterers; the second, longer, included the names of all the Contractors; while the third listed all minor children over five years of age who had come with their parents on this momentous venture.
    “There,” Tai said, her right index finger tapping the glass so that he could find the bold handwritten
Stev Kimmer, Eng
.
    With careful fingers, F’lessan smoothed his note on the glass, just above the bold, and legible, name.
    “Couldn’t be anyone else,” Tai said. She ran her finger down the listings. “No other S.K.”
    “You’re right, you’re right. He’s here. It’s him.” With his characteristic exuberance, F’lessan grabbed her by the waist and spun her about, forgetting the reserve she had shown any of his overtures of friendliness. “Oops!” He dropped her, staring in mute apology.
    She staggered a little off balance and instantly he steadied her.
    “Thank you very much for finding it so quickly. I was looking so hard I couldn’t see,” he said, giving her a quick bow.
    She had a very nice smile, he thought, as the corners of her wide mouth curved up, showing her teeth, white and even, accented by a tanned complexion that was as much heredity as exposure to southern sun.
    “Why was it so important to you?”
    “Do you really want to know?” he asked with the ingenuousness that could still surprise people.
    Her smile deepened, causing two dimples to appear in her cheeks. He didn’t know any girls with dimples.
    “If a dragonrider finds it more important than”—she tilted her head toward the noise of very loud dance music—“Turnover eating and dancing, it must be important.”
    He chuckled. “
You’re
a dragonrider and you’re here.”
    “But you’re F’lessan and a bronze rider.”
    “And you are Tai and a green rider,” he countered.
    The dimples disappeared and she looked away from him.
    You are a