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have deeper consequences in preventing the making and distribution of more and more abominable devices…were not enough。
Though it caused some distress to healers to find the latest shipments of new preparations from the Healer Hall missing from their shelves； it did not immediately occur to them that none of the older remedies were ever stolen。
If a Crafthall； manufacturing parts for new devices； found work damaged by 〃accidents〃 or acids spilled on packing crates； they put stronger locks on their hall doors and kept eyes open for strangers visiting in the area。
If the Printer Hall found discarded sheets missing from the bin in which the ruined paper had been placed for recycling； none of the apprentices thought to report the matter。
Then the Lilcamp traders； who were transporting some valuable ponents from one Smith Hall to another； found the carefully packed crates missing one morning and reported it to Master Fandarel at Telgar Smithcrafthall。 Fandarel sent an indignant message to Masterharper Sebell； reminding him that this was by no means the first time delicate items had mysteriously disappeared on the way to Smith Halls。 One of the healer journeymen had casually plained about having to resupply new medications to a rather large number of healers； working in isolated areas。 Fandarel； Sebell； and Masterhealer Oldive began to notice such depredations。
It was Master Harper Mekelroy； better known to the Masterharper as Pinch； who sifted through such incidents and found a pattern to the thefts and pillaging。
PART I…Turnover
TURNOVER AT LANDING…1。1。31 PRESENT PASS AIVAS…AIVAS ADJUSTED TURN 2553
Since it was not at all unusual for dragonriders to be found poring over the volumes in the extensive Aivas archives； F'lessan； rider of bronze Golanth； was not surprised to see a girl wearing the shoulder knots of a green rider from Monaco Bay deeply engrossed in study。 What did strike him as odd was that anyone at all was here in the main archive reading room during Turnover。 Tonight the planet； north and south continents； would officially celebrate the beginning of the thirty…second Turn of the present and； hopefully； final Pass of Threadfall。 Even through the thick walls of the building； he could hear drums and occasionally the sound of the brass instruments from Landing's Gather Square。
Why wasn't the girl； especially a green rider； out dancing？ Why wasn't he？ He grimaced。 He was still trying to overe the carelessly lustful reputation that he had earned early in this Pass。 Not that he was any different from many bronze and brown riders。 〃Just more noticeable；〃 Mirrim had told him in her candid fashion。 Mirrim had astonished everyone； including herself； when she had Impressed green Path at a Benden Weyr Hatching。 Being T'gellan's weyrmate had mellowed her natural assertiveness； but she never spared him her blunt opinions。
The girl was engrossed in her study of a foldout page depicting Rukbat's planetary system； spread across the tilted reading desk。 Not everyone's reading choice certainly； F'lessan thought。
Many of the younger riders； who would see the end of this Pass in sixteen Turns； were studying to bee proficient in another craft。 In that way they would be able to support themselves once the traditional tithe to the Weyrs ceased。 While Thread still fell； Hold and Hall would continue to support the dragonriders； in exchange for aerial protection against the voracious organism that could destroy anything but metal and stone。 But when Thread ceased； so would that support。 Those riders whose families owned holds or halls might simply be reabsorbed； but weyrbred dragonriders like F'lessan had to find another way。 Fortunately for F'lessan； he had discovered Honshu； in the foothills of the great Southern mountain range； and since the Weyrs had wrung out of the council that loosely governed the planet the concession that dragonriders might claim holdings on the Southern continent； F'lessan had claimed Honshu as his。 He had based most of his argument on the fact that he intended to restore and preserve the Ancient habitation and its splendors for everyone to enjoy。 He had used every ounce of his considerable charm and every jot of guile with other Weyrleaders； Craftmasters； and Lord Holders in order to secure that title to himself。 And once the formidable intelligence of the Artificial Intelligence Voice Address System…Aivas…and the bined might of all the Weyrs of Pern had diverted the orbit of the menacing Red Star； he had begun to spend all the time he could spare from his duties as a Benden Wingleader in refurbishing Honshu。
F'lessan had never been a studious youngster…his interests as well as his concentration span had been limited to escaping lessons whenever he could and having the greatest amount of fun。 Impressing bronze Golanth had imposed discipline at last； because there was no way he would neglect his dragon。 He had learned a determination and focus that had resulted in his being one of the most adept riders； held up as a fine example…at least of riding…by weyrlingmasters。
Honshu had bee another passion。 The Ancient holding； with the splendid murals in its main hall； had exerted a strange pulsion on him from the start： to preserve the ancient treasures found there and to discover as much as possible about its founders and residents。 With the boyish impudence that was his most ingenuous characteristic； he had appointed himself Honshu's guardian and caretaker。 He had worked harder than anyone else in clearing out the muck and mold and restoring the fabric of the place。 Tonight he had a puzzle he wanted to solve。 He had specifically chosen this time to e to the Aivas facility； hoping to be its sole visitor。 He preferred not to share his research…his fascination with Honshu was at odds with his reputation。
You protect Honshu。 I like being there very much； said his dragon； Golanth； from where he had settled himself in the hot noontime sun among the dragons who had brought their riders to Landing's Turnover festivities。 Good sunning places； clear water； and many fat herdbeasts。
Still paused quietly on the threshold of the reading room； F'lessan grinned。 You found it。 We'll keep it。
Yes； Golanth agreed amiably。
F'lessan stuffed his riding gloves into the Turnover gift of a fine carisak； giving the wide cuffs a good push； the new wherhide leather was stiff； despite the good oiling he had given it yesterday evening。 The carisak had been presented to him by Lessa and F'lar。 He rarely thought of them as 〃mother〃 or 〃father〃： they were his Weyrleaders； and that was more relevant。 His birthing day； his Impression Day…the day marking the advent of Golanth into his life…and Turnover were； however； always recognized by some gift from them。 F'lessan didn't know if this was occasioned by their need to remind him of his parents； or themselves of their son。 Fostering was the rule in a weyr； so no child was without several people； not necessarily the birth parents； who took special interest in him or her。 As F'lessan grew up and saw how easygoing life was in a weyr； and the conformity required of children in the holds； he was as glad he'd been weyrbred。
He gave