Free The Chronicles of Pern: First Fall by Anne McCaffrey

defeated tone and responded by couching his report in the most optimistic manner he could muster. He rubbed at his face, which was stiff from brine. “Actually, Paul, the way the stuff is floating in on the tide, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we’ll salvage most of it. Some’s too waterlogged to estimate any damage, but generally the packaging held. As to the ships, Andi’s already figuring out repair lists—”
    “No jury rigs, damn it, Jim. You’ve leagues to go yet to reach Key Largo, and Kaarvan told me it’s no picnic crossing the two Currents.”
    “I have no intention of setting sail again until all craft are seaworthy, shipshape, and Bristol fashion, as they used to say.” Jim spoke with all the conviction he could manage, adding that old seaman’s tag to show he was in good spirits.
    He was aware of shadows of the approaching medics lengthening, covering the light from the westering sun. He turned slightly away from them, not wanting his conversation overheard. “Hell, by that time, all the cargo will have dried out, too. Only a few of the cocooned stuff got torn open. Tomorrow we’ll have dolphin teams start hauling up what was too heavy to surface on its own. You wouldn’t believe what those critters can manage. I’ll report in again later, Paul. Don’t worry about us. Sled brought us all the help we needed.”
    As he closed the comunit, someone cleared a throat. Jim looked up to see Corazon Cervantes, Beth Eagles, and Basil Tomlinson regarding him with amusement.
    “He’s still on his feet,” Corazon remarked to the others.
    Seeing how tired she looked made Jim aware of his own weariness.
    “Only because he’s leaning on that crate,” Beth said in her pragmatic way. She looked tired, too.
    “Old sailors never die, they just fade away,” Basil said in a pontificating voice. “No matter, Theo was right,” he added, pointing. “He’s ricked the gelicast around and split the staples. What’s your opinion, Doctors?”
    “Repair, then bed rest,” Beth said, and before Jim could protest, she pressed a hypo-spray against his arm. As his legs folded and his vision darkened, he heard her add, “You know, I don’t think he realizes when it’s time to take a break.”
     
    The smell of roasting food roused him, but his body was unwilling to respond to the initial commands he gave it to leave the horizontal position. He was on his back, under a canopy of woven fronds, which was certainly rustically unusual. Under him, however, was an air mattress, and a light cover kept the cool of the shade from chilling him. He made a slight error in judgment by rolling onto his right side, preparatory to rising. The sudden weight on a heavy and awkwardly covered right arm was painful enough to force a groan from his lips.
    “Ah, you’re awake, too, are you?” a voice said from his left.
    He twisted about to see Theo lying beside him. She gave him a cocky grin.
    “You sicced that unholy trio on me,” he accused, not appreciating that justice had similarly immobilized her.
    “Dart informed on me,” she said with a shrug. “So I figured I’d at least see I had decent company in my ward.” In gesturing to their surroundings, she displayed a right arm, marred by four heavily stapled and sealed spiral gashes.
    He reached over and took her hand, gently lowering her arm to her side. “How’d you get those?”
    She glanced in thoughtful surprise at her arm. “I don’t rightly remember. I think we were checking out that five-meter ketch Bruce Olivine sailed. Dart was trying to poke her nose into the for’ard hatch when the whole ship shifted and something snagged me by the arm.”
    “How’re your legs?”
    She kicked one free of the light cover. It, too, glistened with sealant. Dispassionately, she regarded the raw scratched flesh that ran from the top of her thigh to her ankle. The inside of her leg was only bruised. “I used to be better able to squeeze through tight places. Should’ve been