“Dragon generations,” Paul said, raising his voice over the reactions. “The fertile females are mature enough to reproduce when they’re two and a half or three years. A dragon generation is three years. The queens will lay between ten to twenty eggs. We’ve ten golds from the first Hatching, three from this second one. In five, ten years, we’ll have an invincible aerial defense system to combat the intruder.”

“Yeah, Admiral, and in a hundred years there won’t be any space for humans left on the planet!” The suggestion was met with a ripple of nervous laughter, and Paul smiled, grateful to the anonymous wit.

“It won’t come to that,” he said, “but we will have a unique defense system, bioengineered to our needs. And useful in other ways. Desi tells me the dragonriders have been delivering supplies to the stakes as they make their way here to Fort. Meanwhile, you have your orders.”

Paul Benden rose and left quickly, Ongola right behind him.

“Damn it, Ongola, where the hell are they?” Paul exclaimed when they were alone.

“They check in every morning. Their progress is good. We can’t ask more of an immature species. I heard Bay tell you that she and Pol both worried that the dragons had been dangerously extended during the evacuation.”

Paul sighed. “Not that there is any other way for them to get here, with the transport situation.” He started down the winding iron stairs that went from the executive level to the underground laboratory complex. “Wind Blossom’s staff has to be reassigned. We don’t have time, personnel, or resources for further experimentation no matter what she says.”

“She’s going to want to appeal to Emily!” Ongola replied.

“Let’s devoutly hope that she can! Any news from Jim this morning?” Paul had reached the state of mind at which he was so saturated with bad news that he did not feel additional blows so keenly. The previous day’s news, that Jim Tillek’s convoy, sailing past Boca, had been caught in a sudden tropical storm that capsized nine craft, had seemed almost inconsequential.

“He reports no loss of life,” Ongola said reassuringly, “and all but two of the boats have been refloated and can be repaired. The dolphins are recovering cargo. There is some heavy stuff, though, that divers will have to locate. Fortunately, they were in shallow water, and the storm didn’t last long.” Ongola hesitated.

“Well, let me have it,” Paul said, pausing on a landing.

“There were no manifests, so there’s no way of checking that they’ve recovered everything.”

Paul regarded Ongola stolidly. “Does he have any idea how long that’s going to hold him up?” Ongola shook his head. “All the more reason, then, to reassign Wind Blossom’s personnel,” Paul said then. “When that’s done, I’ll have a word with Jim. It’s incredible that he’s got such an ill-assorted flotilla as far as he has! Through fog, Fall, and storm!”

Ongola agreed fervently.