As it turned out, there were only three dragons who "survived" the hatching, or who remained in the specus-- and only two of those three were easily accessible, for the purple-haired woman who had been the third to bond seemed next to impossible to get a hold of, and charmingly aloof when she wasn't. Thus, Sam and Cath, and Sodom and Gomorrah, became the specus' favorites: poked, prodded, coddled, offered the best housing, questioned constantly, and on the whole bothered far more than either young man wanted to be bothered-- for completely different reasons, of course. Gomorrah seemed to agree with the sentiment of hiding away, but Sodom-- bloody, contrary beast that he was-- seemed to drink the attention in.

Gomorrah himself had led the way out of the hatching dome on that first day, as more dragonets disappeared from the sands behind them. Cath had been the only one to see the original Sodom and Gomorrah disappear, the only one to hear the bronze's weird comment. Sam, probably justifiably, was of the opinion that Cath had imagined both, but Cath wasn't so sure. The fact that the bronze-pointed Sodom had nothing to say on the subject, positive or negative, seemed proof that he had seen something. Wouldn't the dragonet have made a comment if he thought his bond was seeing things?

Getting off the sands in the first place was rather tricky, in and of itself. Taking even two steps closer to the mass of confused, frightened people in the stands stopped Cath in his tracks, fighting to keep from being overwhelmed by the powerful, multi-minded emotions. He didn't know how he would get out of the dome, because there was no way he was going through that to get out. He'd loose whatever was left of his sanity if he tried it.

Then, a blessing from whatever gods there were out there, it all disappeared. Cath was so shocked he very nearly lost his balance and fell over. As it was, he staggered a few steps in a violent twitch of surprise, and Sam had to catch his elbow. It felt as if his gifting had suddenly, inexplicably, and completely deserted him-- but then, as his thoughts ordered themselves up again, he realized that he could still sense both Sodom and Sam, Gomorrah more dimly, and the dragons ringing the dome seemed vague and cloudy-like. The humans, though-- they were simply gone, or their minds were, as if they were just moving pictures he was looking at instead of real people.

Moving pictures. That seemed familiar, too.

Then Sodom had sent with more of his usual smugness, ::I shielded you. Don't you humans know how to shield yourselves?:: Since Cath had never heard of "shielding", he just spat a curse at the little dragon-- which earned him another croak of a laugh-- and started walking again.

Only to be suddenly butted from behind by Sodom, who had gone from intense self-satisfaction to near-panic in the space of an instant. Gomorrah was also hurrying Sam along, wings mantling with distress. A confused query only got Cath a: ::They're coming!:: That was the best that he-- or Sam, for that matter-- could get out of them then, so they just hurried out. They were followed surprisingly closely by the whole of the hatching's bystanders, and Cath found himself very, very grateful to Sodom far earlier than he would have expected. Even though the "shields" the dragon had wrapped his mind in, he still felt buffeted as terrified people flooded down from the stands and stampeded towards the specus proper, swarming around and past the two sets of twins.

It was only later, after the entire hatching had been declared finished, after Sodom and Gomorrah had been fed, and after the panic had died down, that Cath and Sam heard what had actually happened-- and then they were both happy they'd escaped when they did. The "they" that Sodom and Gomorrah had been so afraid of were legends in Vere, the things nightmares were made of only brought to life. The names for them varied, depending on who told what story, from body-snatchers to ghosts to demons. Cath had even once heard them called "agents", but that didn't really make sense. Sodom just called them evil and refused to speak more on the matter; Cath had the distinct impression that he knew more than he was letting on, but didn't bother to press it. Sam seemed to have gotten more out of Gomorrah, but what he got was so confusing as to not be of much help, anyway.

It was once the panic had settled down, and the officials of the specus had time to confer, that everything else had begun. No one seemed entirely sure what to do, since not only had the bulk of the hatchlings disappeared, so had all their chosen bonds, and the combined efforts of all the dragons in Infusco could not even locate them, much less bring them back. With Cath and Sam being the only two approachable, new dragonriders left out of a clutch of thirteen, it seemed like the whole specus had decided to focus on them. It was, to say the least, nerve wracking.

::At least we've got some very nice weyrs out of it,:: Sodom was constantly reminding him.

::And everyone loves us,:: Sam would add.

Cath couldn't care less about weyrs or community love. All he wanted was to be back on a ship, sailing very far away from Infusco. What was worse, now that they were under the spotlight, inhabitants of the specus were putting two and two together, and it seemed like everyone knew exactly who they were. The worried looks had resumed, as had the heartfelt questions of "how they were"-- but now they also had people randomly coming up to them and cheerfully asking if they remembered them, they used to be "friends". Cath could tell that most of them just wanted in on the celebrity, wanted to be called friends of the only two dragonriders from the Missing Clutch, as it was coming to be known; one side effects of being bonded turned out to be enhanced psi, which would have been absolute torture had Sodom not also come with the ability to protect him, when he could be bothered to pay attention. So, with his enhanced senses, Cath practically had the emotional states and thoughts of whoever he was speaking with thrown in his face. Which was how he knew just who was really interested-- not very many-- and who was not. For the most part, he ignored them all. Sam tried to be nice, but even someone as gentle as he was could only take so much without feeling smothered.

The only being in the specus that both Sam and Cath gave whatever attention she wanted was Notris, the Missing Clutch's dam. She had been hurt by some kind of projectile weapon protecting the last of her hatchlings' bonds from the body-snatchers, and she was so pitifully pleased to see her two remaining and available offspring that not even Cath could deny her as many visits as she might want while she was recovering. She really was a strong, sweet thing, and despite his general displeasure with dragons in general, Cath almost found himself liking her.

There really was nothing the two should have been able to complain about: they were treated like royalty, protected zealously, and doted upon outrageously. They were just never left alone for more than an hour or so, unless it was to sleep, and they were expressly forbidden to leave the specus.

That, and there were other things that soured the whole experience. If the human twins had thought they were suffering from nightmares before, there was no comparing then and now. Dreams were more vivid, more frightening, and amplified by the fact that now, the dragons were sharing them, as well. They went on all night, leaving even Sam exhausted and irritable come morning and Cath simply impossible to be around, which unfortunately still didn't dissuade people from trying. The only difference this time from years ago was that nothing in Sam's room went smashing itself into a wall, and Cath didn't manage to infect anyone else with his sleeping terror. Whether it was the efforts of the dragons, something about being bonded, or something else entirely, their psionic powers at least weren't running rampant while they slept.

Unfortunately, after the first week or so, the dreams leaked out of the night and into the day. One moment Cath would be staring longingly out a window, and the next he would be surrounded by shouts, smoke, and something he somehow labeled gunfire, though he had never heard the sound before outside of dreams. Sam would be carefully unscrewing the back of someone's broken clock and instead see black tentacles and red glowing lights. All four, Sam and Cath, Sodom and Gomorrah, would be caught up, sometimes as long as a minute, in terror and confusion.

The strangest things would set them off, but, as Cath slowly realized, it was most often the dragons. Sodom, especially, seemed to trigger it. He had finally realized what seemed familiar about his odd patterning, but the instant he had named it computer code and static, he had fallen into one of the worst, longest of the waking dreams yet, where someone he recognized as his mother was trying to reach a ringing... thing, but get shot through the middle before her hand even touched it. It took a slap from an older dragonrider who luckily happened to be nearby to snap him, and the other three, out of it, but he couldn't shake the image, seen from under a table and behind chairs like none in Vere he'd ever come across, in a room white and tiled and sterile-looking. It had shaken Sam as much as his brother, and neither of the dragons knew what it meant.

And as the weeks rolled by, it only got worse.