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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.
    “I told them to take the day off,” she said, clearing her throat authoritatively, ignoring the fact that Sean, de facto leader of the dragonriders, had told her in no uncertain terms that he and his group would not be available for work until the next day.
    “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 again. “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 now 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 nonvital supplies for later runs.”
    “So we do use the small craft again?” Per Pagnesjo, captain of the Perseus, asked.
    Paul nodded. “For one thing, those sailers are intrinsically valuable in themselves and not just for what we can load on them.” He turned to the dolphineers. “How are your friends standing up to this?”
    Theo gave a bark just as Ben snorted. “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. Her genuine grin 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; and 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 . . .” Paul said, briskly bringing 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