The Chronicles of Pern: First Fall Read Online Free Page B

appalling.” Helga Duff said, coughing.
    “The real problem is—” Jim paused again. “Monaco is also within range of pyroclastic missile danger.”
    “Range of what?” Jan screwed her face up at the technical term. She knew as much as any human could about dolphins, but she tended to ignore technical jargon.
    “Range of what heavy stuff the volcano can throw out at us,” Jim said, almost apologetically.
    “Worse than the ash and smoke already coming down?” Efram asked. Although they hadn’t been standing on the wharf that long, their wet suits were already gray with volcanic ash.
    “The big stuff, boulders, all kinds of molten debris . . .”
    “But we have Threadfall at Maori Lake this afternoon,” young Gunnar Schultz said, looking totally confused by the conflict of imperatives.
    “We have to get all the matériel we can to Kahrain as soon as possible, and that is the immediate priority, folks. Thread’ll have to wait its turn,” Jim said with his usual wry humor. “All available craft are to be used, and the call’s gone out to owners to either get here or appoint a surrogate. So all we have to do is explain to pod leaders what has to be done and the kind of cooperation we need from them.” He began passing out copies of the evacuation plans that Emily Boll, the colony’s co-leader with Admiral Paul Benden, had given him forty minutes before. He glanced anxiously overhead, where three heavy sleds seemed about to collide. “Damn ’em. Look, read the overall plans while I go organize some air-traffic control.”
    The dolphineers dutifully read the evacuation plan, though Jan skimmed ahead to their responsibilities: the stuff building up on the beach. Loads were all color-coded. Red and orange were priority, and red was fragile, for immediate transfer to Kahrain. Yellow would have to go in a hull of some kind; green and blue were waterproofed and could be towed.
    Jim stuck his head out of the control-room window. “Lilienkamp’s sending us drums, wood, lines, and whatever men he can spare from his Supply Depot to lash rafts together. At least the weather report’s good. Decide which of the dolphins can be trusted to pull—”
    “Any one of ’em you ask,” Ben said indignantly.
    “And we’ll need some sensible dolphs to swim escort on the smaller sail craft. Keeerist, what’s that driver doing?” Leaning his long frame as far out of the window as he could, Jim began waving both long arms shoreward to ward a heavy sled away from colliding with two smaller ones that were trying to slide into the tight landing spaces on the strand. “Do the best you can!” he shouted at his team, and pulled his head back in to restore some order to the traffic heading toward the bay.
    “Jan, you, Ef, and me explain,” Ben said. “Bernard, start organizing those red and orange loads for the Cross and the Perseus already tied up. Let’s get some of the larger small craft in to load. By then the pod leaders’ll know what’s expected and can make assignments of escorts. You others, start checking with the sail craft, find out their load limits. Try to keep track of what went with whom—” He broke off, realizing the monumental task ahead of them. “We’ll need some hand recorders . . . You guys get started. I’ll see if I can liberate us a few ’corders. There have to be some . . .” His voice trailed off as he climbed up the ladder to the wharf office.
    “Right after we tell the fins what they’re to do, we organize some sea police, huh?” Bernard said.
    “Right, man! Right!” Efram said with heartfelt agreement. “Now then, let’s brief the pods . . .”
    As they were all suited up, they moved along the length of the float, spotting their individual pod leaders. Then, gesturing to the dolphins to give them some space, they jumped in. It was the easiest way to impress on individual dolphins their particular tasks.
    There was a sudden swirling of water around the dolphineers as