Dolphins' Bell Read online

  Someone tugged his arm: Toby Duff directed his attention to a raft that was foundering.

  "Damn fool didn't balance the load…" he began, even as dolphins pushed against sagging barrels and pallets to keep them from floating off. "I can't be everywhere…" he groaned.

  "You're giving a good impression of it," Toby remarked at his driest. "Look, under control."

  "But they aren't bringing it back in to be repacked," Jim began.

  "Use the binocs, Jim, Gunnar's there. Seems like he has it under control. What I need your advice on is can we cocoon in plastic some of the red and orange and entrust small loads to younger dolphins » who can't help with the heavier stuff?"

  Jim thought, glancing at the barely lowered stack of priority goods. "Give it a try. Better than having the stuff fried pyroclas-tically."

  Toby gave him an uncertain grin, a genuine laugh and trotted off to wharfside, jumping into the water to make the necessary assignments. Later when Toby's expertise with dolphin communications was more acutely needed, Jim realized that he could have given that job to Amos Schultz since it only involved selecting an appropriate size crate or plastic cocooned pallet, netting it, and wading out to where the young dolphins waited in shoulder high waters to be harnessed.

  Then, all too quickly, the swift tropical dusk descended and there was a scurry to determine how many of the ill-assorted carriers had made it safely to Kahrain, how many in transit would need lighting or other help, and what, if any, casualties or losses there had been.

  To Jim's amazement, there were only minor human casualties, scrapes, bruises, cuts, and even after Ben continually excused his record taking, very little loss of common cargo; none of the red or orange priorities, and not too many scraped dolphins or wrenched muscles.

  Each pod leader reported to Monaco Wharf that they were off to eat and would return at dawn. Not for the first time did Jim and the dolphineers envy the creatures who could put half their brains asleep and function perfectly.

  Someone thoughtful had put a kettle of stew, loaves of bread and a pile of biscuits on the long table in the Wharf office and, with little discussion, the hungry served themselves. Then, finding sufficient floor space, they curled up in blankets, old heavy-weather gear and whatever else sufficed to keep tired bodies warm. Such fire-lizards as looked to those sleepers arranged themselves on the pier, their eyes rivalling the emergency lights up and down the long installation.

  * * *

  The Big Bell roused all the sleepers and brought Jim and Efram stumbling out of the office to see what the problem was. Kibby and Dart were fighting over who was to pull the chain.

  "Morning, morning, morning," was the chant from several hundred dolphins, as fresh and eager as yesterday for the great new 'fun' their landfriends had discovered to please them.

  Jim and Efram groaned, leaning into each other in sleepy incoherence. A seaward breeze made arduous the next day's work: sulphur and chlorine tainted air caused eyes to water and irritated throats and nasal passages. The dolphins seemed less affected which was a blessing. Halfway through that day, most of the swimmers started using masks and oxygen tanks in the water and out.

  There were more emergencies this day— with tired people, stiff-muscled from unaccustomed labours, valiantly trying to exceed the previous day's quota.

  Skippering the Southern Cross, laden to the scuppers with a cargo of precious medical supplies, Jim spent more time on the comunit, issuing suggestions, orders, and trying to keep his temper over asinine errors that would never have been so dangerous at any other time. The sea path between Monaco and Kahrain was a mass, and a mess, of ill-assorted craft, struggling to transport beyond their capacities. Twice the Cross passed dinghies afloat only by virtue of the pairs of dolphins keeping them up on the surface of the water.

  The third morning, Jim summarily ordered all small craft under seven meters out of the water at Kahrain. Most of their crews he left behind to help unload the larger ships. And to off-load the dolphins whom he decided made better, and faster, transporters of small to medium sized packets.

  "Smart of you, Jim," Theo Force said that evening when they gathered on board the Cross for the eastward leg. "Kids got a big kick out of how often 'their' dolphins made the trip. They even started snitching titbits for 'em as treats. Not that they could catch much fish with the waters so churned."

  "And my heart wasn't in my mouth so much," Claire Byrne said, "thinking of all that could go wrong with those cockleshells."

  "Weather's disimproving," Shattuck remarked.

  "Too heavy for the seven meter hulls?" Jim asked, perusing the lists of cargo still piled on the Monaco strand. Today's hard work had shown a definite lowering of the mass.

  "With the more experienced crews," Shattuck said after a thoughtful pause, "but I'd feel happier if they had dolphin escorts. How're the dolphs holding up?"

  Jim snorted while Theo and Festa managed weary chuckles.

  "Them?" Efram said with utter disgust. "They're enjoying this game we thought up for their amusement!"

  Ben was grinning as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands cradling a hot drink. "Didja hear that the pods seem to have some sort of competition going between them?"

  "Based on what?"

  "Weight hauled," Ben said with a wry grin. "You'll have noticed 'em humping the single packs about? Weighin' in."

  "No damage, I hope," Jim said, trying to sound severe although the whole notion of any one finding the situation one in which to start any kind of a competition tickled him. Leave it to the dolphins! Nature's born humorists. He wished there'd been otters still alive on Earth when the Pern colony was being organized. They, too, were creatures who knew how to amuse themselves with the strangest objects! He sighed. "We can't afford to lose anything we've been entrusted to get to Kahrain safely."

  "Once we get it all to Kahrain, what happens then, Captain?" Gunnar asked in a weary tone.

  "Why then, my hearties, we have time to decide what has to be brought on the fleetest winds and vessels to the North." There were sufficient groans to cause him to smile reassuringly. "But with more leisure available to make choices."

  "It's a fair ol' haul to the place they've chosen in the north," Anders Sejby said in a neutral tone. He was a big man, phlegmatic in temperament, but astonishingly agile physically. He had big hands, big feet, broad shoulders and solid legs that threatened to burst the seams of his waterproofed trousers. He tended to go bare-chested, and barefooted, but there wasn't a mariner on the planet that wouldn't sail anywhere with him: Jim Tillek included. "Any sort of a pier there? Or do we have to lighter stuff in from the bigger ships?"

  Jim gave him a blank stare. "I dunno. I'll find out."

  "You mean," asked Ben who fired up easily, "we're busting our nuts doing all this and we've got to…"

  Speaking into his comunit, Jim held up his hand to stem Ben's indignant protest. "All will be prepared for us there."

  "Bet it wasn't until you mentioned it," Ben said sourly.

  "Be not of faint heart, Ben," Jim said, laying his hand in a benedictory fashion on the dolphineer's salt encrusted curls. "By the time we get there, we'll have wharf facilities. Paul Benden solemnly promised me." Ben snorted, unrepentant. "Now, let's sort out what we've got to move tomorrow."

  Garben moved first. The warning Patrice sent out gave them a scant two hours and the advice that everything that could leave Monaco should be gone well before that time limit. No one had any coherent memories of that period. Neither of the bigger ships, the Cross or the Perseus, were fully loaded when the alarm came. They were sailed far enough out of the projected danger area. If the wharf, and the cargo, was left when the eruption was over, they would go back in and finish loading.

  Everyone did have memories of Gar-ben's spectacular eruption, seen at a safe enough distance to be clear of the 'pyro-clastic' debris. It was truly awe-inspiring, and immensely heartbreaking, to see the community that they had achieved in such a short time showered with a
sh, burning missiles, and disappearing behind dense grey clouds.

  "Did everyone get out?" Theo called from waters on the starboard side of the Cross.

  "So we were told," Jim said. "D'you want to come aboard?"

  Theo raised her eyebrows at the already overcrowded sloop.

  "Lord, no, Jim. I'm safer with Dart." On cue the dolphin surfaced and pushed her fin against the hand Theo idly circled as she tread water. "See what I mean…" and her voice dwindled as the sleek little dolphin propelled her further from the ship and Monaco Bay.

  The few damaged loads and other debris were burned or buried before Jim Tillek allowed the Cross, as the last ship, to leave Monaco Bay.

  "What about the Bell?" Ben asked just as the gangplank was being pulled up.

  Jim paused, squinting up at the bell. "Leave it. The dolphins get such a kick out of ringing it."

  "Even with no one to hear?"

  Jim heaved a sigh. "Frankly, Ben, I don't have the energy right now to dismantle it." He looked around at decks crammed with lashed down pallets. "Hell, where'd we put a thing as big as that?" Then he shook his head. "We can come back for it. Ezra'll be wanting to check the Aivas interface once the volcanoes have settled." Then he gave the orders to release the lines for'ard and aft. "Yeah, we'll get it next trip."

  He did note the sadness on Ben's face as the Bell, and the wharf, receded from sight. Not even the gay escort of two pods of dolphins seemed to cheer the man. Well, the disaster took people different ways. Paradise River was Ben's real home. And they'd have to abandon that. Perhaps it was the bell, as a symbol in itself. They'd left a lot more behind at Landing than a bell. They sailed on, through the murky, reeking atmosphere that was what Garben and Pic-chu had made of the once clear air of Monaco Bay.

  Kahrain was scarcely better organized than the Bay had been but there were hot baths and decent food available and a chance to sleep tired bodies until they were rested. Not much ease, though, for Paul Benden, Emily Boll, Joel Lilienkamp, Desi Arthied, Ezra Keroon, and the other captains with Theo Force and Ben Byrne representing the dolphineers.

  The evacuation had gone smoothly enough, thanks to Emily Boll's foresight. The only casualties had been, unfortunately, Marco Galliani and his bronze dragon, Duluth, who had collided with a sled. Or, as Emily put it in an expressionless voice, attempted to avoid a collision by going between as the fire-lizards did.

  The young dragon's instinct had not been sufficient to bring them back from wherever between was and the other young dragonriders were suffering from trauma.

  "I told them to take the day off," she said, clearing her throat authoritatively; ignoring the fact that Sean had told her, in no uncertain terms, that he and his group would not be available for work until the next day. "Pol and Bay have gone to give what consolation they could."

  "But the dragon actually went between?

  Jim asked, amazed.

  Emily nodded briskly, blinking against a sudden moisture in her eyes. "I saw… Duluth do it. He and Marco were there, midair, one moment, the sled descending on top of them, and then… gone!" She cleared her throat noisily. "So, if we have to find some good out of the tragedy, there it is. The dragons can do what the fire-lizards can. Now if their riders can figure out how to do it on a… safe, return basis, we may yet have our aerial force."

  "Right now, though, it's the naval forces we must organize," Paul said, standing up and lighting the screen of his work terminal. "Fortunately, there's a good warehouse at Paradise River where we can stash non-vital supplies for later runs."

  "So we do use the small craft again?"

  Per Pagnesjo asked.

  Paul nodded. "For one thing, those sailers are intrinsically valuable in themselves and not just what we can load on them." He turned to the dolphineers. "How are your friends standing up to this?"

  Theo gave a bark and Ben a snort. "It's a nice new game we've figured out for them," Theo answered.

  "Glad someone's finding some enjoyment out of all this," Paul said with a grim smile.

  "Trust dolphins for that," Theo said with a genuine grin which turned Paul's into one less strained. "Well, we don't need to rush so much to get to Paradise, do we? That'll make it easier and safer."

  "We'll have to use personnel who are not slated for the next Threadfall, though."

  Paul added, switching his terminal to another setting. "We had to let Maori Lake take its chances but we've got to keep Thread burrows to a minimum."

  "Even if we're abandoning the southern continent?" Theo asked.

  "We're not abandoning the continent, nor entirely removing everyone," Paul said. "Drake wants to continue, so do the Gallianis, the Logorides, the Seminole, Key Largo and Ierne Island groups. Tarvi's keeping the mines and the smelters going. Since they work underground or in the cement block sheds, they're reasonably safe from Thread though food resources may have to be augmented from our supplies."

  "They may have to come north in the end if we can't supply them from our stores," Emily said sadly.

  "So…" and Paul briskly brought the meeting back to the matter at hand, "Joel's got some imperative supplies that ought to be shifted immediately north. Kaarvan, your ship has the biggest capacity, can you undertake that voyage while the other ships redistribute loads and follow when laden? Desi, can you give him a hand with the manifests?"

  "If I get my crew to it now, we can shift and reload cargo and be ready to sail by the evening tide," Kaarvan replied with a nod and left without further comment. He was not one who could endure long meetings but what he was asked to do he did with despatch and efficiency.

  "Desi, I want manifests of every crate and carton you take, red and orange!" Joel Lilienkamp shouted after his assistant, and received a backhanded wave. "How," and Joel turned to the others, hands upraised in helpless resignation, "are we going to keep track of what is where and… everything?"

  For the first time since Jim Tillek had known the able Commissary Chief, he saw the energetic man at a loss, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task. He felt a deep sympathy for Joel, too, for he had had everything so neatly catalogued and organized at Landing: could literally tell you on what shelf in what building the item you needed was stored. Even his legendary eidetic memory would be unable to cope with the present confusion.

  "Joel," Emily said firmly but somehow soothingly, "no one but you could have pulled off such a comprehensive evacu-ation of goods and people."

  Perhaps only Jim noticed the order of importance in her compliment and he decided to rub his face to hide an appreciative grin. In Joel's lexicon, people could take care of themselves, but goods had to be taken care of and their location should be known at any time of day or night.

  "We are in your debt on many counts, Joel," Ezra said, pushing back his shock of hair with both hands. "If you hadn't found those tiles so I could shield the Aivas…"

  Joel shrugged the gratitude away. "It's what'll happen now that deeply concerns me. There're materials we have got to have immediate access to and, unless I have the records of all the loads that went out of Landing by sled as well as Monaco…"

  At that point, Johnny Greene came in, looking jaded but also gloating. "Don't any one ever say 'it can't be done' in my presence," he announced to all. Joel perked up expectantly. "Got generators up and running and ten terminals. Dieter's got 'em all programmed to take visual, audial or recorder inputs and then correlate. Will that do you for now, Joel?"

  "It most certainly will," and Joel bounced to his feet as if he hadn't just been in the depths of despondency. " Where've you got them set-up? Lead me." He got as far as the shelter door before he turned back. "I'll need personnel…"

  "Whoever isn't doing something else I hereby authorize you to draft until those records are transferred," Paul said with a chuckle. But his amusement died as he turned back to his own screens, pursing his lips with two fingers. "We still have some pretty hairy problems. Ezra, can you also put back on your captain's hat? We'll have to take the smaller craft alo
ng the shoreline all the way to Key Largo before we make a final dash across to the northern continent. I can't see any other way of getting all the people and material there. One vast convoy, with dolphin support, keeping one of the bigger ships as guardian, while the others make straight journeys from Kah-rain or Paradise to the Fort?"

  "Let's also count on shifting the convoy guard ship now and again," Jim said after exchanging a quick glance with Ezra. "Even with decent weather, and that eruption's going to mess weather patterns past the predictable point, it's going to be some safari."

  "But can it be done?" Paul asked.

  Jim twisted one shoulder. "We got here. We'll get there. Sooner or later."

  "It's the later that worries me," Paul added.

  Jim hauled his recorder out of his pocket and tapped out a query. "Well, let's just see what we can do, Paul." He peered down at Benden quizzically. "You and Em will go north to," and he grinned in lazy irony, "to prepare a place for us, so d'you want to be admiral of the Pernese Navy, Ez, or do I get the short straw this time?"

  "Let's stick to being captains and working as a team as we usually do," Ezra replied in his dry fashion, but he clamped an affectionate hand on Jim's shoulder as he peered at the recorder's data.

  "Not all the stuff's been lifted out of Landing yet," Joel said, poking his head in through the door. "I'm organizing all available sleds to bring up the last. Can I get the dra…"

  Emily held up her hand. "They'll be back on line tomorrow, Joel!"

  Joel scrunched his eyes shut and grimaced. "Sorry. Tomorrow'll be good enough." And he was gone again.

  "There was a fleet like this once before," Jim said to Theo Force who was the duty dolphineer as the Southern Cross led the way out of Kahrain cove. The sloop slept eight comfortably, so with a captain and five regular crew, four dolphineers made use of the two extra bunks and the cockpit couches.

  "Like that?" and Theo jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the strung out line of ill-assorted vessels. Dressed in her body-wet suit, breather flung over one shoulder to be ready for use instantly, she had stretched out her strong tanned legs on her side of the cockpit. Jim had an eye for a shapely leg, even one generally showing raking scars from many brushes with underwater snags. He was also becoming accustomed to Theo's subtly attractive face. Not a pretty woman and well into her third decade, her rather plain features nevertheless indicated her strong character and pur-posefulness.