"Yeyah, they let us know where fish schools, when squalls're coming, but never seen 'em act like that before." The man preferred to watch the sinking fireball than attend the dragonrider.

"Look, man, it's not just Thread that falls from the skies!"

F'lessan said. "We're here to move you to the cliffs, up there, high enough to be away from the wave."

"Wave?" Another man walked toward F'lessan, his expression patronizingly amiable. "We're well above the high tide… "

"Not this one," F'lessan said.

"Ah, now, bronze rider, I can see you ain't even wearing Monaco's badge. What call have you to-"

"We're Monaco!" C'reel said and St'ven nodded emphatically. "Listen to F'lessan, Golanth's rider!"

"We're evacuating you," St'ven added. "All the coastal holds. Every Weyr is helping!"

F'lessan swung his leg over and slid down, gesturing for the brown riders to dismount. Maybe face-to-face, not perched on a bronze dragon, he could instill some urgency for the present crisis.

"Who's Seaholder?" he asked, striding as fast as he could across the soft sand to the crowd.

"Me!" The first man jerked a thick, scarred thumb at his tanned chest. He wore the customary sleeveless top and shorts. He had strong hairy legs and was barefoot, toes splayed in the sand. "Binness, Journeyman, FishCrafthall!"

"Journeyman Binness, we are acting under orders from T'gellan, your Weyrleader and-" F'lessan had a sudden surge of inspiration-"MasterFishman Curran, to evacuate all your people to high ground." He gestured broadly to the western arm of the cliff, higher by a half dragon-length than the eastern one.

Binness chortled. "Don't try that one on me, bronze rider. The Master's way east at Tillek as he should be."

"It makes no difference where he should be,Journeyman," C'reel said, losing patience. "He isat Landing, meeting with everyone trying to save lives."

"Binness, wake up and listen!" F'lessan said. "When that thing hits the ocean," and he pointed to the bit of the fireball still visible on the horizon, "the biggest wave you ever had nightmares about is going to come straight to this bay. There's no Ring island in its way to break its crest and this holding is going to be drowned!"He scissored both hands together to indicate the totality of the disaster. He caught sight of his watch, visible as his jacket cuff pulled up. "In one minute, that fireball hits the ocean. You might be able to see the cloud of steam that the impact creates!" Again he pointed northward.

"It's gone!" a woman cried, flagging her hand in a pathetic farewell to the novelty the fireball had presented to an isolated community.

F'lessan closed his eyes at the waste of time. Two hours to move over a hundred people, and whatever possessions they could grab, and he hadn't even managed to get them to see the gravity of their peril.

"You've a far-seer," he shouted, abruptly noticing the one slung in a holster at Binness's side. "Take a goodlook!"

Binness did use the glass, more as an accommodation to the dragonrider's whim than because he expected to see anything. It took him more precious time to focus the instrument. Only because F'lessan knew exactly in which direction to look did he see the top of the rising cloud.

"Sompin's there, Binness," one of the net-bearers said. "He's right about that. You know my far-sight's good."

"Yeyah," Binness grudgingly admitted. "Probably a storm." He collapsed the telescope and returned it to its keeper.

"Dolphins was warning us then," another fisherman put in his opinion.

"Why… will… you… not… believe… me?" F'lessan demanded, spacing his words as he sensed the passage of such valuable time. "Pack your belongings! We'll convey children, your aunties and uncles first."

The reaction of the women was to hug their children to their legs, suddenly frightened of his presence. F'lessan struggled to control his aggravation. Didn't they trust dragonriders? T'gellan was a good Weyrleader.

"Look, spread out that fishnet," he said, pointing to the nearest man with one draped across his shoulder. "That will carry a lot."

"Ever had a ride a-dragonback?" C'reel asked, hunkering down by the youngster who had seen the dolphins.

F'lessan kept checking his watch. Maybe he'd just have to wait for the shock wave to hit to prove that an emergency existed. Being nearer the point of impact, this Seahold would feel it a lot sooner and harder here. It'd be seismic, wouldn't it, traveling ten times faster than sound along the rock of the seabed. They'd feel it, then hear it!

Right up through his boots-and the bare feet of most of the seaholders-came the shake! A boomthat beat eardrums with its intensity. Several people fell to the sands; even the dragons were unbalanced, raising wings to steady themselves.

"D'you believe me now, Binness?" F'lessan demanded, brushing sand off his leathers.

Two of the women began to keen, nearly as unnerving a sound as dragons made when one of their kind died.

"Believe you, dragonrider!" The Journeyman could also see the disturbed ripple of the waves in the bay. "Go! Go!Pack!" Wide gestures of his arms sent the women scattering. "Lias, spread that net. Lads, go with your mothers. Collect everything you can carry. Petan, get the other nets. You sure your dragons are strong, bronze rider?"

"As strong as they need to be, Journeyman," F'lessan replied, grinning. He gestured for C'reel and St'ven to help spread nets. "We'll need rope…"

"Line…" C'reel corrected him when Lias looked puzzled.

"Line, then, in the corners, to make a knot for the dragons to lift the nets with. Where's the most sheltered place up on those cliffs, Binness? Are there woods? You'll need shelter. There will be winds and rain, not to mention the high seas."

"Plenty shelter a-top," Binness said, deftly nipping another net wide on the sands.

A lad came running up with a rocking chair.

"No, no, furniture will come last," F'lessan cried, waving the boy and the chair to one side. "Bring pots, pans, food, necessities," he called as the scared boy dropped the chair and sprinted back to the largest cothold.

"That's my old dam's chair," Binness said, pausing to prop his fists challengingly against the wide belt, which had knife sheaths as well as the telescope holster.

"Where is she?" F'lessan demanded.

"Coming. Lady Medda's coming." Binness pointed to the largest cothold. Two women, their hands making a seat, were hurrying out with an old woman, white braids bouncing. "Joint-ail but she runs us right well!"

"She can be the first to go." If the woman managed the hold, then F'lessan would station her where she could do some good.

"She'll show you where!" Binness shouted back, grinning maliciously before he grabbed a piece of line and tied it to the back of the rocking chair. "Where?" he asked F'lessan.

Shards! But it wasted time to argue with him. F'lessan swung his arm in Golanth's direction. "Loop it on the third neck ridge. I'll take her myself and the two carrying her."

He ended up with far more draped on his bronze than the delighted Lady Medda, whose wrinkled face suggested nine or ten decades of living. She was in high spirits as she settled on Golanth's back, shouting orders to those who jumped to obey.

"Use tablecloths for the food and loose things. Bring the water skins. Stuff each pot with what comes to hand. Dragon-riders don't haul empty space when you can fill it with something useful."

C'reel's brown Galuth had two younger women on his back, with two children apiece, and rough packs hung from the neck ridges and trailed down his backbone. St'ven was leaning over Mealth's side at a dangerous angle to be sure nothing was spilling out of the first of the packed nets the dragon lifted from the sand.