Skyblaze by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

married, and that means this is my place, too. You got
no right to --''
    Granita raised her weapon, and it was her
turn to say, ''Shut up.''
    ''These things,'' he said, ignoring the gun
entire and picking up one of the mugs; ''These are mine aren't
they? It was my idea, I told you how they did it, off-world.'' He
smashed the mug into the pile of dishes, picked up another and
smashed it, turned the tray over and laughed as they fell, kicking
at the remains.
    He moved his hand, and his confederates
rushed into The Hopper's corner, lifting him effortlessly and
dragging him to stand before Harley.
    ''Can't rightly aim that, can you?'' He said
to Granita. ''Your old regger here -- him and me got a lot to talk
about. Might as well put that down -- we got what we need for a
snow party now, don't we? We can have some music, and we got us a
couple women, we got food and 'toot, and since the old man don't
need none, that's enough women to get us by 'til this storm's done
in a couple days, all comfortable and snug.''
    ''Let him go, Harley -- this ain't his
fight.''
    ''He don't get fight, he just gets hurt.''
One of the followers that was, suddenly launching a flurry of
strikes and blows at The Hooper while his mate held the sobbing
man.
    Vertu stirred, then, not sure how to best
interfere, how to help --
    ''See? You can't do it! You had a knife on
me and you couldn't use it!''
    They were slapping the The Hooper now, one
after another. He made no move to resist, only holding his hands
down over his vest, over his precious things -- until Harley
stepped in, snatching at pockets, fishing out one, two, three tiny
objects, slick and silvery as fish as they fell to the floor. Heavy
boots rose -- fell . . .
    The Hooper yelled, wordless, fighting now,
the one who held him laughing as he twisted the old arms
harder.
    ''Stop!''
    Authority rang in that voice, and for a
moment Vertu thought that the Patrol had arrived.
    But no, she realized, standing tall with
Tommee's gift ready in her hand -- it was only Vertu dea'San,
playing the fool once more.
    She hit the side switch that would throw the
weapon power, the hum adding itself to the racket in the room.
    '''Ware! Gun!'' The follower pointed, too
far away to interfere with her.
    Harley turned, his weapon shining in the
light, his eyes targeting her as he moved.
    There were two explosions, then perhaps a
third . . . a rush of smoke and whining, zinging things. There came
a groan, the room was full of smoke, and Granita shouted, ''Don't
shoot!''
    *
    The Patrol arrived, stepping in through the
door the moment Granita snapped the locks back. Two went
immediately forward: one to The Hooper where he knelt on the floor,
moaning as he picked up bits of silver and what might be reed, and
placing them in a startlingly white kerchief.
    The second Patrolwoman went to Harley and
his mates, standing cowed beneath the baleful glare of Vertu's gun,
unsnapping wrist restraints from her belt as she walked.
    The third -- was Liaden, and walked with the
soundless step of a Scout, to Vertu's very side, taking care to be
seen, yet not be in her sights. He paused at the proper distance
for speaking to a stranger and bowed gently.
    '' Galandaria , I am grateful for your
assistance, and regret that it was necessary. I am Scout Lieutenant
ter'Volla, detached to the Surebleak Street Patrol. My crew and I
are tardy, but now we are come. You may stand down, if you
please.''
    In truth, the Nordley had grown heavy, and
it was all she could do, to hold it on target. Vertu inclined her
head to indicate that she had heard, averted the gun's gaze, and
touched the power-stud.
    The hum died, and she slid the weapon away
before turning to face the Scout and showing him empty palms.
    ''It is well,'' he said. ''Again, I regret.
I will need your name, for the reports, and also, please a
description of what has happened here.''
    *
    The wind had lessened, and the snow fell
silent and bewitching in the meager day-light. Vertu dea'San