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expression that faded as he looked about him in bewilderment. When all four were in the room, Sebell introduced them to Aivas.
    “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances, my lords,” Aivas replied courteously. Menolly noticed that his deep voice was subtly deferential. “Soon this facility will be enlarged so that larger audiences can be accommodated.”
    Sebell caught Menolly’s eye and winked at her. Both appreciated Aivas’s smooth tact.
    “You can see us?” Oterel asked, still looking around for something, Menolly wagered, that he could recognize as eyes.
    “The visual sensors are registering your individual presences. You will most certainly be recognized again whenever you return.”
    Menolly hastily covered her mouth. It wouldn’t do for Oterel to see her grinning at his confusion. This Aivas was half-harper. How did it know just how to deal with the old bore? Had Sebell warned it?
    “You don’t have any eyes,” Oterel said querulously.
    “Optics are the eyes of a machine, Lord Oterel.”
    “I understand that you knew our ancestors, Aivas,” Lord Sigomal said while Oterel floundered over the implication that eyes were somehow inferior. “Can you tell me who mine were?”
    “Lord Sigomal,” Aivas replied, sounding genuinely apologetic, “no input has been received on such specific details. A list of the names of those settlers who removed to Fort Hold is being prepared and will be made available to anyone who requests a copy. Your own Hold Records probably detail who established Bitra. However, you may be pleased to know that your province was named for one of the shuttle pilots, Avril Bitra.”
    Menolly wondered at the odd clipped delivery of that information. Aivas had an incredibly flexible voice, capable of amazing dynamics and nuances. Maybe Master Shonagar, the Hall’s eccentric voice teacher, could be pried out of his domain to hear such a wonder.
    “Lists of ancestors are the best you can do? That isn’t going to be much use to us!” Oterel exclaimed in keen dissatisfaction.
    “In your case, Lord Oterel, it is reasonable to assume that Tillek was either established by or named for Captain James Tillek, the captain of the
Bahrain
, a man of considerable acumen and talent as a seaman and explorer.”
    Oterel began to swell with importance.
    “Regretfully, Lords Toronas and Warbret, your Holds were established long after input ceased. Would it be possible to add your Records to the information files of this time period? That would further the understanding of the structure of a Hold. There is so much that must be gathered before what you have created here on Pern can be fully appreciated.”
    Just then Master Wansor walked in and, mumbling over the page he was reading, stumbled into the seated Warbret. Profusely apologizing, he was confronted by a glaring Oterel, who accused him of barging in on Lord Holders.
    “I’ve only one small question, but it is extremely urgent,” Wansor said in his gentle, contrite voice. He took a breath to deliver the question.
    “Master Wansor, you need only place the paper on the plate for it to be read and an answer given,” Aivas reminded him most courteously.
    Menolly raised her eyebrows. Few people paid Master Wansor the consideration his true abilities deserved.
    “Oh, yes, I keep forgetting,” Master Wansor said. Excusing himself, he wove a path past the stools to the control board. A round, little, unpretentious elderly man, he had to bend over to see with his weak eyes where to place the paper. The panel glowed more brightly. “Ah, yes. There!” And he patted the paper into position.
    “Lord Toronas, your Hold was obviously named to honor the memory of Admiral Paul Benden,” Aivas said, while several lightning flashes on the panel suggested to Menolly that Wansor’s paper was being attended to simultaneously. Then, to the amazement of all, the main screen displayed the image of a fine-looking man, his face full of character. A man to