Skyblaze by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Page B

the kerchief on the desk, and
was surprised to see him reach not for it, but for a small pad of
paper and a writing stylus.
    In good, round script he wrote, ''Received
of Vertu dea'San, one bag of community treasures . . .'' then he
looked up -- ''Who're these from?''
    ''The man's call name, what they know him as
on the street, it is 'The Hooper'.''
    Andy Mack's startlement was clear in the
near explosive intake of breath.
    ''Crime victim? The Hooper? Is he in health?
What happened?''
    There was no playfulness in him now, but
full attention.
    ''The Patrol wrote in the report that he was
'beat up by punks'.''
    The Colonel's expression got even more
serious, but if he was going to speak his words were swept away by
the deep voice of a large man who was suddenly, otherwise silently,
beside them.
    ''Beat up by punks? Guess that's a report
waiting for me!''
    *
    The jacket was battered and totally
incongruous for the weather; the face somehow familiar. That she'd
reached for her gun as a first reaction wasn't lost to the man who
owned the face; his hand twitched but he suppressed it
instantly.
    Her hand had been slower to stop and closer to acting; perhaps in
a public place it wouldn't have been noted.
    She blushed even before Andy Mack started
chuckling --
    '''swat you get from sneaking in a back door
like a galoot 'stead of coming in like folk!''
    Recognition stirred on the galoot's face as
he dragged a handy stool from beneath the workbench, the gun-hand
going to forehead in a salute to all present. Snow fell from
creases in his jacket; in other spots it was already going to
patient water-drops that held on as if frozen by a root. He sat
fluidly, his size having nothing to do with his grace.
    ''Andy, you give me a key and leave to use
the door, I'm gonna. Save my ears and brain from freezing, using
the back way -- ''
    ''Too late on that save?'' Andy Mack's
mischievous grin got the best of him, and turned into a
chuckle.
    ''It ain't froze yet. If it was we'd both've
drawn. And pardon me, driver, for giving you a start. I'm
McFarland.''
    ''Pilot McFarland, yes, it is good to see
you again.''
    ''And you, driver. Got some bunch of light
years 'tween you and . . .Solcintra, I think it was.''
    ''I am Vertu dea'San, Pilot --''
    Andy Mack interrupted, holding a hand toward
each of them.
    ''Damme if you didn't make me forget my
manners, Cheever. But looks like you met before --''
    ''Briefly,'' Vertu managed. ''It would have
been a taxi-ride from the small private-ship side of Solcintra Port
to some place unexpected -- I think Korval's valley, to yos'Galan's
house. We have not met in a social way, Andy Mack.''
    The mechanic stood then, shaking the foot
he'd had tangled around the chair as if it had been asleep.
    ''We have here,'' he announced formally,
''Vertu dea'San, deputized by ter'Volla on Patrol to bring items of
interest to us all to me in order to make something wrong as right
as it can be. I'm pleased to be receiving such visitors, I
am.''
    He nodded, then turned with a flourish.
''This here -- this is Cheever McFarland, Master Pilot, come as
Boss Conrad's Right Hand, if I have that proper.''
    Cheever McFarland nodded, and Vertu answered
with a seated bow, each murmuring appropriately.
    ''Good, so let me see what we got here, if
you can be patient, Cheever, and then you can get to whatever
brought you out in the snow.''
    *
    The plastim of tea was better than she'd
expected, and it was even recognizably a Vertuna blend, as promised
-- the tea her namesake, due to a prior Wylan's whim. Empty now,
she moved it aside as the pilots told over the contents of the
kerchief. Drawing her more and more into conversation like comrades
rather than strangers, they'd made as sure as they might that The
Hooper's physical injuries were minor.
    ''So they roughed him up because they could,
was that it? Thing is that if he said what he did, The Hooper, in
front of trusty witnesses, them boys have got themselves a mess of
trouble anywhere there's