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 next.

"Morning, morning, morning" was the chant from several hundred dolphins, as fresh and eager as they had been the day before 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 the coming day's work arduous: sulfur– 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 human swimmers were forced to use masks and oxygen tanks in the water and out. Also, there were more emergencies, caused by tired people, stiff-muscled from unaccustomed labors, 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 and 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 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 the dolphins, who 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 snatching tidbits 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," Bernard Shattuck remarked.

"Too heavy for the seven-meter hulls?" Jim asked, perusing the lists of cargo still piled on the Monaco strand. The day'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 managed a weary chuckle.

"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 the 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, had been 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 wearily.

"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—"

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. The good Admiral Benden solemnly promised me."

Ben snorted, unrepentant.

"Now," Jim went on, "let's sort out what we've got to move tomorrow."

Garben moved first. The warning they received gave them a scant two hours and the advice that everything that could leave Monaco should be gone well before that time limit. Later, no one had any coherent memories of that period. The wharf was a frenzy of activity; still, neither of the bigger ships, the Cross or the Perseus, was 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 Garben's spectacular eruption, seen at a safe enough distance to be clear of the pyroclastic debris. It was truly awe-inspiring, and immensely heartbreaking, to see the community that they had achieved in such a short time showered with ash and burning missiles, then disappearing behind dense gray cloud

"Did everyone get out?" Theo called from the 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 trod water. "See what I mean…" Her voice dwindled as the sleek little dolphin propelled her farther from the ship and Monaco Bay.

At last all but a few damaged loads and other debris had been burned or buried by the beach wardens, and Jim 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 the decks crammed with lashed-down pallets. "Hell, where would 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 forward 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. Paradise River had become Ben's real home, and now it would have to be abandoned. A lot more than a bell had been left behind at Landing—and yet the bell seemed to symbolize it all. They sailed on, through the murky, reeking atmosphere that Garben and Picchu 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 let tired bodies sleep until they were truly rested. The evacuation had gone smoothly enough, thanks to Emily Boll's foresight. The only casualties had been, unfortunately, one young dragonrider and his bronze dragon 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.