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Old Jul 11 2006, 10:55 PM   #1
P'ter
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Post The Case of the Hijacked Harness

Barkat looked round the hatching floor. Scattered about the hot sands were the broken shells of some twenty dragon eggs. From the outside came the sounds of hungry dagonettes, and of the humans encouraging them on the way to their first meal. The crowd of weyrfolk and visitors were leaving the tiers. Most of them were ecstatically joining the successful candidates; the rest were gathering in and consolling the handful of unlucky ones. Only Barkat was alone: snatched out of his family home just yesterday evening.


For all his fourteen years Barkat had known only the grinding hard work of a small holding on poor quality land. His whole life had been dominated by the constant need to weed the fields of root crops, and to tend the beasts needed to manure the fields. Occasionally a Master Farmer would call in for a night on his rounds to see that the officially sanctioned methods of cropping were being strictly observed. Also occasionally a journeyman from the Beasthold would come by and stop for a night or so to check over the livestock.


Apart from these the only outsider coming to stay was the journeyman Harper, who came for a sevenday six times or so a year to teach the children their ballads and basic skills. This always upset his Uncle the farmer. Because of the harsh weather the harper never came in the winter, when the children could best be spared from their chores. So Uncle would only allow the children the bare minimum of 'time off' as he saw it: and even then they were expected to do a full shift in the fields also.


As the son of a younger son, Barkat was expected to spend his life working; firstly for his Uncle and eventually for an elder Cousin. He had no chance of getting even a minor hold of his own. He was also eventually expected to partner a girl cousin, daughter of one of his Aunts. Which one hadn't yet been decided for him.


When thread fell, Barkat and his relations strapped on the agenothree tanks and ground crewed the fall. he had been very proud when, three years ago, he had been allowed to do such a responsible job. It showed that he was growing up at last, he thought. Although, truth to be told, in all that time there had only been one thread to flame. They had used far more agenothree so called 'practicing', in fact burning out various patches of encroaching creeping weeds.


The last couple of falls Siluth, the blue dragon of the weyr liason rider N'key, had made a point of coming across to Barkat. He would gaze briefly into Barkat's eyes and croon a greeting. The first time it happened both Barkat and N'key had been rather startled. Barkat, who had never been that close to a dragon before, nearly disgraced himself and had held his breath to avoid breathing in the stench of fire-breath. N'key had looked across at Siluth for a few moments and had said, "interesting." He had then finished taking the report from Barkat's father and had departed.


The next time, Barkat, in trepidation, had dared to touch Siluth, whereupon Siluth had washed his left ear with his tongue. Then last night, while Barkat and the rest of the tribe were getting clean enough before supper to satisfy his Aunt, N'key had arrived and had taken his Uncle to one side for a brief conversation. They both looked very hard at Barkat, causing him to wonder what he had done wrong. His Uncle beckoned him over.

"N'key says you might make dragon rider. There's eggs ready at weyr. You're to go and try. If you succeed remember where you came from. If you don't; I expect you back here as soon as N'key can deliver you. You'd better see your Ma for some clean clothes."


So supper last night had been an eyeopener. He was slightly giddy from flying for the first time, and very nervous at sitting down to eat with the rest of the candidate group. The weyrbred lads were all very boisterous, looking forward to fulfilling their destiny. They were also quite successful at scaring the outsiders like Barkat. But, for Barkat, wine with the meal and harper music were outside anything he had ever imagined.


Barkat looked around the hatching ground. There was no way he was going back to Uncle's. He had to get away before N'key came looking for him. He walked briskly out into the weyr bowl and across it to collect his small bundle. He then walked somewhat slower to the tunnel he had been told led to the outside. When he reached the outer end, where the guard was, he slowed down even more and tried to look very dejected as he crept past.

"Hard luck lad," called the guard: and then he was past.


When he got out of sight he quickly took off the candidate's white tunic and buried it beneath a bush.


Two years later


"Which offspring of a tunnel snake has taken my show harness?" yelled M'tak. His bronze dragon, newly scrubbed from nostrils to fork, stuck his nose into the sleeping chamber.

M'tak's weyrmate, Lyza, swatted Wroth on his flank. "Move over you bronze lump."

Oveth, her gold, warbled at him from the ledge outside. She and Lyza were already dressed and harnessed, as appropriate, ready to go to the gather at Fort. Wroth moved just enough for Lyza to wriggle past.

"Are you sure it was here? You didn't leave it outside after you polished it?"

"No. I hung it on the hooks there while I bathed. Wroth and Oveth were drying off on that sunny ledge they like down by the lake."

"And I was checking on Kalin. This may be her third pregnancy, but something's not right. I was just checking whether she wanted me to do a bit of bartering for her at the gather."

"I thought I heard you while I was scrubbing. I called out to see if you would do my back."

"Not me, Lover."

"Well: who did I hear? I bet it was the thief!"

"I can't think that anybody would steal it. After all it's rather distinctive. I know all your wing have green gather harnesses, but yours IS the only one tooled AND with fringes along it."

"Well, sombody's done so. If I find them I'll smash their head in so hard it'll look like a newly hatched egg."

"Oi. You two. Got room for a third?" called a voice from outside.

Lyza turned to go. "Finish dressing, Dear. Then we'll sort it out."

She went out to the ledge and brought back their visitor. M'tak was just pulling on his boots: green ones to match the missing harness.

"Raith tells me you have a problem?" said C'lef quietly. As Weyr Singer he probably knew more secrets than anybody else about the weyrfolk. He was one of the oldest brown riders and was a very useful member of M'tak's wing.

"Yes," replied M'tak. "Some misbegotten sideshoot of a female canine spit turner has lifted my new show harness from that there peg while I was getting ready for little jaunt to Fort."

"They what? There's no point in anybody taking it. They can't use it: it's unique. Thank the First Egg! It's so gaudy and swanky, nobody else could possibly get away with using it. Everyone would know whose it was."

"So?"

"So: the only reason anybody in the weyr would take it is to stop YOU from using it."

"Y - e - s. That T'lerlon! He was very rude about it when I brought it back from the Leather Hall last sevenday. And, he's never forgiven Wroth for flying Oveth. I think I'll just have a little word with him. Where's my knife belt?"

Before he could move, Lyza grabbed his knife and belt off the bed and ran out with them.

C'lef grabbed M'tak's arm. "Steady Leader. Not with a knife. He's all empty sound anyway. I'll talk to him while YOU look out your old show harness and get it on Wroth, or we'll be too late to give the display. Calm down and belt up: literally. I'll meet you by the starstones in ten."


-o-0-o-


Thirty hours later, as the weyr prepared for a fall that would include the weyr bowl itself, there was the noise of runner hooves outside the passage tunnel. The weyrdrudge on guard strode out officiously to bar the way. He found an itinerant smith riding a hill bred runner beast, with his tools and materials on a pair of pack animals.

"What tha want?" asked the guard.

"Shelter," replied the smith. "Just shelter in your tunnel while fall's on. Unless ....."

"Unless what?"

"Well; unless anybody in the weyr wants a bit of smithing done. I'm heading up to Baleek's to do the ironwork on a new wagon they're building. But I don't mind doing a bit extra on the way."

"Doan think so." The guard paused to think hard. "There's side chamber there. Tie runners." He reached for the pack animals. "Co-up." He led them a few paces into the tunnel and in through a side arch opposite his guard post. The smith dismounted and followed with his saddle runner.



With the animals tied up and unloaded, the guard came to another decision. "You'm best go on through." he declared. "If yer hurry yer'll make it to kitchen afore thread time."

"Thanks," said the smith, "do you want anything sent down?"

"Nar. I've flask er klah an s'm cold roast werry. I only gotta last four hours n' Ah'm orf."

The smith set off through the glow lit tunnel. "See you around then."



That evening, with the fall over, the groundcrews back in, and the injured dragons and riders all treated and dosed, the weyrfolk gathered for the evening meal. The morning shift guard found the smith still there, sitting with N'key and C'lef, and all three talking hard.

He tapped the smith on the shoulder. "You'm still here then?"

"As you can see. It turned out they had some work for me to do after all. I spent the afternoon mending flamethrowers. Tomorrow I start making a new set of spits for the main hearth. The present ones are too badly worn to repair."

"Yer beasts?"

"They're bedded down. I fed and watered them about an hour ago."

"Oi c'n do 'em fer yer termorrer," offered the drudge. "Ah'm on watch agin, but there's little ter do. Oi loik runners."

"Thanks friend: that's right kind of you."

The drudge went off beaming.

N'key decided that he had had enough to drink and bidding the other two 'good night' departed for his weyr, leaving the other two them alone.

"Thanks for coming so quickly Byrt," said C'lef. "At least M'tak's calmed down."

"That's okay. The Boss said I needed to be quick. Thank four Fort riders who ferried us up to a spot a couple of valleys over in the wee small hours. I think my trio are getting used to dangling blindfolded in nets beneath dragons. So, what can you tell me?"

C'lef outlined the problem.

Byrt scatched his head. "Like you said: an inside job seems so stupid. Any other strangers around?"

"Other?"

"Apart from me?"

"No. Not that I've noticed."

"Well I'll ask the gate guards tomorrow when I check they've fed my animals. Any other thefts?"

"Not apart from the occasional toy 'borrowed' among the children. I deal with that in class; if the parents and fosterers don't." He paused, thinking hard. "There was something a while back," he said slowly, "but I don't see how it's linked. Yes; it was an oddity and we never got to the bottom of it."

"At this rate I'll never even get to hear of it."

"Oh you! Okay; as I said I don't see a link, but here you are.

"About nine months ago Dileth, our senior queen, laid a nice large clutch. No queen egg, but she laid twenty-seven others. Incidentally, I've NEVER heard of a queen laying more than one queen egg at once. How do they do that?"

"I've no idea. You'll have to travel back in time and ask the fabled Pitty King. Go on."

"Two weeks later Oveth laid her FIRST clutch. Again, no queen, but around twenty or so eggs. It's quite rare to have two clutches on the go at once, and none of the weyrs have two hatching grounds. So, the ground was rather crowded with two broody queens. Neither were very happy and both were rather territorial. Much more so than normal.

"The day of Dileth's hatching was quite a scene. Oveth was guarding HER eggs at one end and hissing at all the candidates. We'd also got a trader caravan in and all, so there was a gather going on in the bowl. In the end Lyza, aided by Sileth and Wroth, got Oveth away. Took her hunting over in Crom.

"Then, when she got back well fed and all calmed down, she gets into a tizzy again. Lyza said that Oveth said that there was an egg missing. Oveth was very definite about it. We searched the weyr. We searched everybody leaving the weyr. We checked out the trader caravan. Master Lilcampe was rather sniffy about that, but we pointed out that we were searching everybody else: it was only fair. We even flew after those who had left early and searched THEM. The dragons would have known if any of their passengers tried to smuggle an egg out. No sign at all. In the end we decided that Oveth, and the rest of us, had miscounted."


-o-0-o-


Next morning the Weyrleader cornered C'lef during breakfast.

"I've heard a few rumours about this Byrt fellow, Bit of a coincidence him pitching up here just now, isn't it?"

"Not at all, Boss, not at all." C'lef winked.



While checking his runner beasts, Byrt was chatting to the guard. The drudge was moving them out in turn, tethering them to a wall ring and giving them a good currying. With his aninal's eyes closed in ecstacy, Byrt asked if he remembered the hatching.

"Yers. Ah 'member un. That were fun! Doan offen git ter search a 'van."

"You were on the search team?"

"Yers. Di'n find nothing though. But that Master Lilcampe, he claim he were missing sumping too."

"What?"

"Doan know what. Just sumping were missing. He were a bit put out like." He paused. "I think it were one of his crew. He'm due in three days."

"Who? Lilcampe?"

"Yers. He'm up at Baleek's nar, but due here about three days on."



Byrt went and found C'lef, who was in the schoolroom taking the children through a numbering song.

"One weary werry hunting in the marshes,
Two rambling runner beasts heading back to home.
Three hungry herdbeasts waiting for the milking,
And four flitting firelizards fishing in the foam."

After the children had finished singing and had been set to paint a picture of the song, C'lef walked over to Byrt.

"How's it going?"

"Can you give me a lift up to Baleek's?"

"Sure. When?"

"As soon as you're free." He winked "I REALLY need a couple of sacks of that really good blackstone his mines produce."

"As good a reason as any. I can be free in about an hour."


Byrt left and made his way over to the cooking cavern. Armed with a mug of klah, he took notepad and measuring string from his pouch, a scriber from behind his ear, and proceeded to measure the existing spit irons.


C'lef found him hard at work sketching on his pad.

"You ready then?"

"Yup." He rolled up his measure string and put everything into his pouch.

"No scriber behind the ear then?" asked C'lef innocently.

"Not when I'm going to be flying. It might drop off on some poor beasty and scare it." Byrt picked up his coat. "Come on: let's go."


-o-0-o-


They came out of between and circled Baleek's Hold. Built during the last interval, it was now held by Baleek's grandson, also called Baleek. He had some fine water meadows nearby, and some well drained crop fields on the lower hill slopes, with rough grazing above them. He also had three mine holds tucked away in the upper valleys.

"Hey!" shouted C'lef. "That's Lilcampe's train down there."

"Well; what do you know. How about that."

"YOU, of course had NO knowledge they were here?"

"Me?" Laughed Bryt. "Of course I sharding well did."

"My request to your Craft Master was for you to find a harness."

"I am. I really am."


C'lef and Byrt came across the Wagonmaster sitting by his fire, a mug of ale in one fist, reading a bunch of invoices. One of his journeymen was hovering around.

He looked up. "C'lef isn't it? What are you doing up here? This lot have spent about every shaved credit they've got. I'm coming down to the weyr next. It must be urgent if you can't wait two, three days."

"This here's Byrt; a Mastersmith."

"I can read his knots. So, what do YOU want Mastersmith?"

"To ask some questions, if you'll let me."

"Hm-m-m-m. Okay." He handed the invoices back to his journeyman. "Keep after them. I want to roll by noon." The journeyman left in a hurry and Lilcampe turned to Byrt. "So: what questions would a smith be asking of a trader?"

"Do you remember the hatching about nine months ago?"

"The one where an egg was thought to have gone missing?"

"Yes. And one of your crew went too?"

"Him? He wasn't really one of mine."

"Can you tell us more?"

"Well: if I remember rightly, we came across him on the trail. He came up on the runtiest, sorriest excuse of a runnerbeast I've ever seen. Skinny lad in his mid teens; patched worn clothes; appetite like a dragon. SAID his name was Dwer, but he sometimes forgot to answer to it. Anyways he asked if he could give us a hand."

"You took him on?"

"Yes, but on trial like. He was willing but clumsy. But, once you shown him something five or six times he'd eventually catch on. I didn't pay him nothing, but we fed him and Sarey found him some better cast-offs. Guessed he was a runaway, but from where of whom we never found out.

"Well, we got to the Weyr. that was the day before the hatching. Hatching Day now ..... with us there trading fit to bust, and all the harpers and visitors for the hatching; it was a bit hectic like." He paused for a swig of ale. "When the bother kicked off Dwer wasn't found, nor was his runt. The riders never found him. Mind you they weren't particularly looking for HIM. they were looking for ALL the early leavers. I suppose if he wasn't on track or trace they could have missed him. But why would he have taken an egg?"

They all three sat and pondered for a bit.

Master Lilcampe stood up. "Well. Must get on."

C'lef and Byrt stood also.

"Thanks Master Lilcampe. That's helped me; I think." Said Byrt.

"You know: there are a few caves on the outside slopes of the weyr," said C'lef. "If he ducked in quickly, we would probably have missed him."

They started to walk away.

"I think I need to speak to holder Baleek," said Byrt.

"Let's go and find him then."



Holder Baleek was discovered in his stables, looking at the legs of a poor looking runner beast held by one of his stockmen.

"I think that's the best we'll get him. He's badly bred, neglected, and not much use to anyone." He spotted C'lef. "Hey Dragonman. Is your dragon hungry?"

"Not THAT hungry." C'lef grinned. "Master Byrt here's got some questions he's real hungry to have answered."

"You're due to come and do the ironwork for my new wagon aren't you?"

"You are next on my list."

"Well, let's get these questions out of the way then. Then you'll be here sooner."

"I was wondering whether your foresters have noticed anything odd happening in your upper forests?"

"Like what?"

"Lack of livestock for one. Wild or farmed. Sign of somebody living up there who shouldn't be?"

"No. They haven't reported anything to me. Should they have cause to do so?"

"I don't know for sure. It's just a slight possibility, and a hunch."

"The only thing has been this here unbranded animal one of my foresters found wandering down on the border with Rundle's."

"Oh."

"The only other thing was Orson's mine, that's the furthest one, asked for some extra meat to be sent up. There's not enough grazing up there for much livestock and they've always relied on hunting wild werries to supplement their supplies."

C'lef and Byrt looked at eachother.

"Sounds likely," said Byrt.

"I suppose you'll be wanting a lift up to Orson's?" sighed C'lef.

"Of course. I still want a couple of sacks of really good blackrock though. If I'm to get that iron hot enough, I'll need some cracking good blackrock."

"Get some from Orson's then. So long as you pay for it." Laughed Baleek, clapping Byrt on the shoulder.

"Smithcraft marks?"

"Fine."



"We'll have to fly this one straight," announced C'lef as they took off, "I don't have visuals for Orson's."

"That's fine by me." Shouted Byrt in his ear. "Let's go really high and have a good look round."


-o-0-o-


Half an hour later, some hundreds of lengths above the barren peaks, Raith was gliding round in lazy circles. Suddenly Raith dropped his head, almost peering back through his legs.

"Woops! Raith says he's spotted them," yelled C'lef.

"Them?" asked Byrt.

"Them. Hold tight."

Raith span on a wing tip and dived. Straight ahead a patch of smoking vegetation was sending a plume of bluish smoke skyward. As they approached, a second patch ignited about half a click away. Raith, his wings raked back for speed, swerved towards the new conflagration.

C'lef caught a flicker in the corner of his vision. "They've gone between," he shouted.

"Blast!"

Raith backwinged in to land near the second heathfire. The sulphurous stench of firestone was unmistakable.

"What we need now is somebody who can tell us if there are any caves around here," said Byrt.

"On to Orson's then?"

"I think so. There's no point in staying here. And it's going to rain soon. That'll put this out."

"Notice how quiet it is?"

"Haven't till now. It is though isn't it? There's nothing moving at all."

"Or nothing TO move. Hunted out."


-o-0-o-


"Caves?" asked the mineholder. "We don't get caves up here. Wrong type of rock entirely. There IS an old adit my father started. Thought he'd show Granfer up did my old man." He grinned. "But he picked the wrong spot. Forty foot in, the lode trickled out. Dad mined another twenty foot or so; hoping."

"We'd better take a look then," said Byrt. "But, before we go I want two sacks of your hottest firing blackrock."

"That'll be five marks the sack then."

"Five? You won't have to transport them anywhere. I'll give you four, not a splinter more."

"Four and a half. I had to buy the sacks."

"Four and a quarter. I'll give you two empty sack in return."

"Done." Both men spat on their palms and shook on the deal. "Bet your sacks are the wrong size though."

"How much are you betting?"

"Against you? Nothing!"


-o-0-o-


C'lef, Byrt on Raith approached the adit from the uphill side, gliding in silently. A lone figure was sitting on the tailings, gazing down into the valley. Suddenly he moved as he caught sight of movement below him. Blue Siluth and N'key, called in by C'lef, flew into sight. The lad turned to run and nearly fainted to see Raith backwinging in to land behind him. He sat down again even quicker than he had stood up.

N'key got to him first. "I think I know you, Lad;" he said, eyeing the very amateur leathers made of werry hide. "Your Uncle got really ratty with me when I had to tell him you'd disappeared."

"I'm not going back," said Barkat, his voice breaking in distress.

"Not to the farm; no," said C'lef from just behind him. "But that's our egg you took and hatched. And my wingleader's harness you took to fly him with. I think you'd better come back to the weyr."

"What'll happen then? I'll be banned or something, but what'll happen to Rakith?"

"Chucked out? I wouldn't have thought so. No doubt M'tak will want some compensation for his harness. You'll have to earn a new one for him. But I think you need to be with the other weyrlings learning things properly. Don't YOU Dragonrider?"

"Me?"

"Yes; you," all three chorused at him.

"Now," continued N'key. "I think you'd better start by introducing us to Rakith."
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Old Jul 12 2006, 07:20 PM   #2
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

That's a really interesting idea! I remember another story where someone stole an egg, then lost it in the river where it was found by another...

Some technical feedback - you have a lot of typos and misspellings. For instance, the title word is "hijacked."

Here's another example:
Quote:
Three hungry headbeasts waiting for the milkling,
And four flitting firelizards fishing ion the foam.
There are also some unnecessary capitalizations after dialogue:
Quote:
"Raith tells me you have a problem?" Said C'lef quietly.

"Yes." Replied M'tak.
I would put it through a spell and grammar check if you can; or just read through it very, very carefully. Also, I would put a space between every paragraph, even if it's just a line of dialogue. It all seems smushed together otherwise.

I like the story, these are just suggestions to make it easier to read!
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Old Jul 12 2006, 07:31 PM   #3
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Ta Brenda. The typos are due to finishing it at three a.m. (I think)

I'll go and edit it.
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Old Mar 24 2008, 04:41 PM   #4
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P'ter, neat little mystery. I enjoyed it a lot!
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Old Mar 24 2008, 05:22 PM   #5
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

That was fun to reread!
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Old Mar 24 2008, 06:27 PM   #6
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Golly that took some resurrecting didn't it?
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Old Mar 24 2008, 07:32 PM   #7
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Cute. Though it was quite obvious what was going to happen, it was cute.

C'lef as a WeyrHarper cracked me up, but it wasn't so cutesy that it pulled me out of the story. It was apt.

One thing though - "honey sickness" - I thought that Pern didn't have honey because there were no bees. It would make more sense to call it "sugar sickness", because they would at least have beet sugar, if not cane sugar.

I actually think you could make this more of a mystery if you lengthened it - put in more detail about the Weyr life, add another candidate to use his POV so we forget about Barkat. The fact that an egg was stolen nine months earlier kind of came out of the blue.

Oh, and is this a regional thing? "She's so thirsty it's not true."? I've never heard that expression before. Over here, it would be, "She's so thirsty it's not funny.".

This sentence also struck me funny: "She may be Senior Weyrwoman, and this may be her third pregnancy, but it's really getting to her." What does being the Senior Weyrwoman have to do with being pregnant?

It was enjoyable, though.
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Old Mar 24 2008, 07:38 PM   #8
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Quote:
Originally Posted by P'ter View Post
Golly that took some resurrecting didn't it?
That's what we newbies are good for.
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Old Mar 24 2008, 10:38 PM   #9
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

I had not read it before. It is a good story.
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Old Mar 25 2008, 07:33 AM   #10
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Well I hadnt read it before either, so was pleased to do so now.
Obviously a good thing to bring up older posts.
But - I would like to have seen the Weyrwoman's illness followed through
As it is, it has no relevance to the story. and I agree with Shalyn about the honey - there were no bees on Pern
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Old Mar 25 2008, 03:45 PM   #11
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

I just read it I like it. I knew what the senior weyrwoman had. I also have diabeates(sp) but not from being with child.
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Old Mar 25 2008, 09:04 PM   #12
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

I like the diabetes reference, but there's no honey on Pern!

Was the "thirsty" line referring to that? I know thirst is a symptom of diabetes.
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Old Mar 26 2008, 10:26 AM   #13
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

I guess I'll have to change it to 'sweetening disease'.
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Old Mar 26 2008, 06:24 PM   #14
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Well I would have done but the edit button's missing off most of the posts.
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Old Mar 26 2008, 07:40 PM   #15
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

I can give you an editing window for a few days if you'd like, Peter.
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Old Mar 27 2008, 02:07 AM   #16
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Well, thanks to whoever pulled this back up! I've never read it before either. I may be remembering wrong, but I think there was at least one reference to something being honey-colored or sweet as honey or something like that in one of the books. It's not unreasonable that people adapted that word to something else with similar properties. People do that sort of thing all the time. The word "honey" could just mean something very sweet. If they grew cane, the word could have been applied to cane syrup. I can just see a young Pernese person reading an old family recipe, "...half a cup of honey. What's honey?" and the parent or head cook hands them a jug of syrup, "here, use this."
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Old Mar 27 2008, 05:23 AM   #17
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Thanks Cheryl; that would be useful.

I notice that some recent replies don't have edit buttons and some do. Is this a difference between 'reply' and 'quick reply'?

Or I supposed I could copy and paste the whole thing into a new post and do it there?
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Old Mar 27 2008, 06:42 AM   #18
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

The particular diabetes, people are refering to, is gestational diabetes, where a woman who is pregnant suffers one particular type of diabetes but in some cases, it lasts only for the term of pregnancy - in others, probably longer or for the duration of her lifetime. Although on Pern, it would be known as something else. Not sure on the sweetning disease idea though, P'ter because would they know it as such? After all by the time they found Avias, a lot of information was lost and names of diseases would have changed. But then again, it remains possible that it's called that or something similiar.

Liked the story, WELL DONE! I don't know how to answer the "Edit" question though??
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Old Mar 27 2008, 09:35 AM   #19
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Editing window open Peter, let me know when you're done please.

"Quick Reply" will jump you down to the small reply box at the bottom of the page when you're viewing a thread. "Reply" will take you to a new page with a larger reply box and more buttons/tools for formatting your message.
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Old Mar 27 2008, 02:06 PM   #20
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Good Story, it was fun to read.
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Old Apr 8 2008, 05:28 PM   #21
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Right; I've taken most of the advice. but .....




..... instead of lengthening it to expand on the gestational diabetes, I've taken those bits out. It was a side line anyway, and I've put it back in the plot bunny burrow for future use.

I think it's better tighter.

And I've an idea for another case for Byrt (without gestational diabetes).
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Old Dec 23 2008, 11:50 PM   #22
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Thanks for the listing of the storied about Byrt I like a good "who done it" Pern style.

I read most of them, now I'm get to the ones I missed. Hmm its giving me a idea or on my own Pern based story, I'll have to see what I can come up wiith LOL.
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Old Feb 17 2010, 08:10 AM   #23
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Default Re: The Case of the Highjacked Harness

Sorry for bringing this forward, I am just marking this to let it go into my subscriptions, so I can find it and read it later. No time right now.
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