Loose Cannon by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

of the least kept brick-fronts; Number 83 it was,
a regrettable four-story affair sporting ungainly large windows and
peeling paint. The peaked, slate roof suggested that the building
was several hundred Standards old, and it looked like it had no
repair since the day it was built.
    Heart falling, she reached into her card
case, and removed the slip of paper she had from Bell the day he'd
agreed to share his direction with her: Number 83 Corner Four Ave,
Room 15.
    A shuttle's long rumble began then; she
could feel the sidewalk atremble as she watched the pastry girl's
blue-and-green hair disappear in the distance. Also on the paper
was the pad combination, and with the whine of the shuttle rising
behind her, and then over, she stood, and for a moment was tempted
to enter Number 83 and find Room 15, open the door, and see
if--if...
    She turned and walked all the way home for
lunch, grasping the paper tightly in her fist.
    When she got back to the store, calmer, but
heartsore, there was Bell's back vaguely visible in the back room.
He heard her enter and yelled out over his shoulder "Any luck?"
    "No," she said, quietly. "No luck,
Bell."
    She slept badly alone, and the rumble of the
transports, joined with the not entirely foreign sounds of
proctor-jitneys blaring horns as they answered a nighttime summons
hadn't helped.
    And now, on her store step across the road
in the dawn light?
    Debbie, cuddling Bell's good jacket in her
arms.
    * * *
    "BELL'S OK," THE GIRL said
quickly, shaking her absurd hair back from a remarkably grimy face.
"He wasn't bleeding all that much and the medic said he'll do. The
proctor, now, he'll be OK, too, other'n his pride's pretty well
hurt by getting really whomped--I mean decked in front of all his buddies.
But there's gonna be some fines to pay, I guess, and he's gotta
have a place to live and--"
    Cyra stood staring, hard put to sort this
tumbled message, clinging at last to the simple, "Bell's OK..."
    Debbie was looking at her
with desperate eyes. "Cyra, you're a lucky girl, you know? But
you're gonna have to get someone down to the jail to get him out . He's not the kind of
guy that'll get along there, and hey--what it'll take is 'a citizen
of known melant'i, moral character, and resources.' I sure don't
qualify for the resources part, the melant'i I ain't got and I'm
not sure if I qualify for the character part...."
    Cyra wasn't too sure about the character
part either, though the fact that the girl was here with so many of
Bell's belongings argued for her. Arrayed on the step was a ship
bag with "Belansium" printed on a tag, four or five
studies--paintings and sketches of a woman, who Cyra realized must
be herself by the detail of the face--nude in different positions,
some small odds and ends in boxes, a small paint kit, a picnic
box....
    "Tell me again," Cyra demanded. "After we
got these inside. From the beginning. I'll make tea."
    * * *
    DEBBIE RUSHED OFF while the tea was heating
and returned with pastries, and a damp towel, which she was using
on the dust and grime on her bare arms.
    "I was having company over
and wasn't much paying attention to other stuff when I heard one of
the transports go over. Things started trembling and--well, wasn't
at the stage I thought, then the next thing I know there was a
big cherunk kind of
noise and the front wall just fell out into the street. The whole
place got shaky and we all got out. Bell come dashing out from his
room carrying something big and square and rushing down the steps
with it whiles bricks and roof-stuff falling all around.
    "We was outside standing
and staring--most everyone out by then, when the whole building
kind of slanted over backwards and leaned into the alley. My guy,
he's pretty smart, he'd grabbed a bottle of wine on the way out,
and we all had a sip, and when it looked like there wasn't any
more up to
fall down we went
in to see what we could save and to make sure no one was
inside--and a bunch of snortheads showed up. One