Logs:The Same Risk
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| RL Date: 10 November, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, E'dre, Elaruth, Wroth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Weyrleaders decide what immediate measures to take against the illness at Boll. |
| Where: Council Room, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 3, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Dahlia/Mentions |
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| It's midmorning when E'dre begins to get the reports from his sweepriders about the state of Boll. E'dre has cautioned his riders to take care with the accepting of messages, requiring those that have the need of a dragonrider to leave messages at a designated spot and the answer to follow with little contact made between the parties involved. It is Wroth who signals Elaruth for a meeting request, his tone for once subdued even for the cantankerous brown. « It gets worse. He is in the council room. » E'dre's got a map spread out over the table and papers scattered at each corner. He's engrossed in marking the map, leaving his long cold klah to continue to sit untouched. From somewhere near the grove, Elaruth soars up and into the skies, to land on one of the higher vantage points along the rim of the bowl, not opting to crowd the watch rider and their dragon. « She will be there shortly. » It might not be soon enough for E'dre, but eventually Hattie arrives bearing an armful of hidework that she hasn't had time to or bothered to sling into her satchel, and when she aims to set it down on the table, it spill out across another corner of the map, contents all grids and charts and numbers - and half the vocabulary of a Healer's stores and remedies. "I want anyone who's left the Weyr in the past sevenday to list where they've been and submit it," she demands without preamble. E'dre doesn't look up from his notation, nodding agreement to Hattie's demand and giving her the vague answer of, "Of course." He makes a few more marks, heaves a sigh and looks towards that scattered content on the map. "You want it by the end of the day? I'll have Wroth bespeak all wingleaders right now and demand the information." He scrubs a hand against his forehead and pushes his fingers up through his hair in thought as he considers all the mess of hidework on the table. "It's serious, isn't it?" he asks her, face pinched as he levels a look on her. "We should make sure our Weyr is well equipped to handle whatever may come our way." "If you can deal with the wings, I'll deal with the caverns," Hattie replies, pacing over the same two or three feet of floor before she drops her satchel to the ground and pulls out a chair. "Of course, getting anything useful from that kind of information depends on honesty, but I hope people would understand that we're not checking up on what they're getting up to," she says as she sits down and twists her fingers together, white-knuckled. "Even if it's just getting very sick for a while, if everyone gets sick at the same time, we're going to be in the same situation as Boll. Worse, if freezing in Between makes it worse." She gestures towards the hides. "I've been going over the infirmary-specific stores; we're equipped, but... not if everyone..." "A plague wiped out my family," E'dre answers all too quietly as he angles himself towards a chair to slide into. "I know very well the cost of not being prepared." He pinches his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger as he eyes the hides Hattie has gestured towards. "Once we know where people have gone.. should we, I think perhaps we should," E'dre hesitates here, looking to Hattie for guidance, "impart restrictions." He tugs at his lip and then lowers his hands to rest on his lap. Hattie ducks her head in silent apology, choosing not to take back her terseness on the subject so far by softening her tone. However, she's quiet for long enough that it's plainly not merely an effort to appease. "...Boll is the most obvious place to restrict travel to," she says slowly, "for all that our riders might have brought whatever it is back with them already. The Holds will inevitably suggest that protecting ourselves is selfish and inconvenient for them - not that I believe that's a reason we shouldn't." She lifts a hand to momentarily cover her face. "But assisting Boll and the Hall in getting Healers to them might be the quickest or only way to contain it there." "I'm not the leader of the Holds," E'dre's instantly on the defensive there, "and will not expose our people to appease their demands." He doesn't slam the hand that he moves to rest on the table out of a force of will to keep himself calm. "We can aid the delivery of Healers, if that is how the Hall wants to proceed, but outside of that I do not think we should do anything else. If people signal for removal, we won't help them. We have limited supplies ourselves. They'll have to depend on other Holds to supplement that." He furrows his brows in thought and then looks to Hattie. "If any of our riders disagree with me on that, I will lock them up. I won't have dissent around this issue." "I'm not suggesting that we should," Hattie says slowly and clearly, her focus fixed on E'dre. "But things might not turn out to be so simple. We don't know where else this illness could already be - whether in our territory or elsewhere. We might end up being the ones who need help. And what would we want them to do then?" She shrugs, though in no manner is the motion nonchalant. "...If we're to more actively assist with ferrying Healers, we need to consider who. Older riders trying to be noble could well end up with great honour and a quick death from something someone younger would survive." "If we need help, we should be asking other Weyrs for it. The Holds won't help us," E'dre seems convinced of this fact, "and even if they could it wouldn't be the sort of help we may need." He looks away from Hattie at her mention of 'who' would be used as a resource, trying to hide the expression from her. Even then, she might see the flash of disgust that flits across before it's carefully schooled. "I don't like any of it," he admits to her, "I won't force any rider to perform a task around this illness that they do not want to do." He pauses then, "What of our residents? They may have family scattered outside of this Weyr and seek to bring them here for safety." "We all love to say we're autonomous. We might be too autonomous to help each other." Yet Hattie doesn't seek to dwell for too long on that darker thought, and instead addresses the other matters at hand. "I don't like it any more than you do, but it may do us more good in the long run. They could even drop the Healers off a distance from the Hold. No-one too old and no-one too young - whoever wants to assist with getting Healers to Boll would need to be grown and well; they'd stand the best chance." She ducks her head again when she considers the last, murmuring only, "Haven't you already decided that? We pick up no-one who signals for removal. No-one in. Anyone." "Just because I've decided it doesn't mean that it's true for the Weyr," E'dre answers, looking at her a little sharply. "I'm not the only one in charge." He shakes his head and sighs, tipping his head back against the chair to look at the ceiling. "At least I've got my children here," he murmurs, more to himself than to Hattie, "and can maintain their safety better now than if they were still at Ebeny's family." He shakes his head and straightens, moving to grab a blank hide to make marks on. "I think we should require a list from each wingleader on who has volunteered to help Boll. That way, we know exactly who has permission to do so. And we can keep an eye on them." "What I mean is that you can't refuse to house desperate holders and then agree that we'll accept relatives because they're relatives. They all pose the same risk." She refuses to speak on the subject of her children, and even of E'dre's, her jaw tight for a second or so before she manages to fight down whatever might have wanted out. "We need to dictate exactly what people are doing in terms of assistance, volunteers or not. They can't do as they please. We send them where they need to go, to do what they need to, and we monitor them. Lists are a good place to start, but it's going to be a whole lot of other hidework too." Hattie glances down into her lap. "What of the people who've already been to Boll? Do we quarantine them?" "I agree, so then we'll say no one, not even relatives, can come until we figure out the situation and spread of Boll's illness," E'dre seeks to clarify and though he's firm in the delivery he still looks concerned. "Once we find out who has been where?" E'dre asks, frowning down at the table. "We can restrict them to their weyrs. But the damage may already be done. We can enforce a quarantine on those who seek to offer themselves as volunteers. They return only to their weyrs. And if we need to, we'll shuffle weyrs around and place them at the highest ones to limit accidental contact." He rubs at the back of his neck and then reaches for a stylus. "People may think we're overreacting," he murmurs, looking to her. "And I know people don't all listen." "Let's hope they'd rather be fit and well than risk disobeying orders just because they're being a little inconvenienced," Hattie replies, her voice low. Her dark eyes roam to the map, study falling there for a little while. "...If you're going to restrict where the wings go, you're going to need to completely re-write the duty rosters," she thinks aloud. "And keep them off duties outside the Weyr until you have. Is there anywhere other than Boll that you want them avoiding for the time being?" "If I don't send riders out on sweeps to the other areas we may not know if the illness spreads," E'dre says aloud, looking to the map he had so carefully been considering. "I was thinking of limiting exactly the size of the coverage area. Reducing it, probably. I'll need to hold a meeting. Today, I think. To discuss all of this with our wingleaders." He shakes his head and looks to her. "We may be overreacting. This could be some illness that doesn't spread outside of Boll." He sighs, reaching for that klah mug now as he levels his gaze back to Hattie. "But - until we know more..," he trails off, shrugging for lack of additional words to say. "It got to Boll," Hattie says lowly. "Or burst into being there. If it can draw nearly a whole Hold under its power, then I don't think we're overreacting in the slightest." A glance towards the outside world precedes, "...Do you want me to ask Elaruth to call everyone home for the night? At least until we know where they've been and who we may need to quarantine. It might be an idea, you know, to set up the same message system as with Boll. Leaving messages to be collected from designated places." She flexes her shoulders uneasily. "Then... we announce the rest at dinner tonight?" "That sounds like a solid start," E'dre tells her, rubbing again at his neck and then sighing. "The faster we are on controlling our riders, the safer this Weyr may be." He stands up abruptly, leaning forward over the table to begin to gather hidework into a neater pile. "I'm having Wroth call the wingleaders. Did you want to stay for that meeting?" He looks sideways at her, "I imagine you have more pressing matters to attend to." He takes a breath and then pauses to reach for her hand, meaning to give it a brief squeeze for reassurance. To him, or her, either way the brownrider seeks the physical contact. "We'll get through this. If we stand strong and work together." Hattie shakes her head a leans across the table a little to collect up what's been achieved so far of the healing supplies inventory. "I'll have Elaruth call the others home," she murmurs. "And then I'll get the caverns residents logging where they've been before I go back over the stores again. I'll need to meet with Dahlia too." Once she's gathered together that work, she leans to finally drop it into her satchel, then gets to her feet, the hand she uses to loop the satchel's strap over her shoulder the one that she surrenders to E'dre. Her affirmation comes in the form of a decisive nod, then a quiet, "...You might want to note whether your... ex? Weyrmate is in the at risk group... with the baby. And your children." Another nod, then a squeeze of fingers in return, and she's off. E'dre looks momentarily confused on the name Hattie supplies and then clarity must descend because he shakes his head. "Right," he agrees, "That makes sense that you'd need to meet with her." Something closer to anger at the reference of 'ex' flashes across E'dre's face. He doesn't say more than that as he watches her go. It doesn't take long for the wingleaders to be seen filing into the council room soon after the Weyrwoman's departure. And then the new mandates begin to trickle to the rest of the Weyr. And then all that can be done is to wait. |
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