Skyblaze Read Online Free

feet, staring again at a street in
disorder, and --
    Tommee!
    The Liaden with the tube
lay like an empty bread wrap, bloody back and side to them. Tommee
was forward of his position, fallen after all -- swearing,
swearing, surely swearing in his peculiar Terran and in Trade, his legs -- his
foot, too far away from the rest of him . . .
    He saw her -- saw them -- made a grimace
that might have been a smile, saw the direction of her gaze, and
followed it.
    For a long moment, he looked at the red ruin
of his leg, at the disconnected foot in its overlarge boot. He
raised his head and met her eyes.
    ''Ma'am, thanks for the ride. 'preciate.
Reallydo.''
    The soldier's face, already ashen and
staring upward, went pale and then bright as shadows flashed out of
the day and color washed out of everything.
    Vertu looked to the light above her, above
them all, and there in the sky over the city there was a dancing
lance of purplish light, and another and perhaps more; and a boom
like a thousand thunder strikes at once washed over her. Her eyes
involuntarily shut against the assault of sound and light, and then
she opened them, looking up to find the source, but there was no
source now, just a blazing brightness in the sky. She thought it
was done, but another lance of light fell upon the city, and
another until at last the sky was full of sudden cloud and
billowing smoke. The skyblaze was done now, but the world and the
people still shook in aftermath.
    *
    ''Dere's a Kindal Decent Wyman comn
streetedge . . . cah checked . . . .''
    The news came from a guard with a comm set
in each ear, who stood nodding and scanning, nodding and scanning
--
    Vertu looked up from the comfort of the gun
and leather, the sounds coming together oddly, with almost as much
meaning as ''somebody ought to do something . . .'' and for the
same reason -- it meant something to another, and she needed to
respond. She was sitting on the curb, drained of energy, with blood
still wet before her, in the street, strange clouds and a lingering
scintillant light behind the smoke still rising from the
strikezone.
    This guard was not one she'd carried to the
battle zone -- this one was female, not quite as large as Tommee,
with a multigun in open readiness -- and she had only the barest
distinguishable Terran, no Trade nor Liaden.
    The words came again, this time perhaps
aimed at Fereda, who leaned against her whole cab behind the
shambles that had been the Delm's Own Cab, but Fereda had not
heard; was not listening, as Vertu could see with a quick glance.
The girl stood with a gun grip perilously showing from her jacket
pocket, staring into the sky where the flash had taken color from
the world and where now rose a column of darkness unsullied by the
light of the setting sun.
    Fereda had been crying, which was unseemly,
but the mercs had the dignity not to notice, which gave Vertu a
relief far beyond reason. That gave her strength enough to look
into the guard's eyes as she stood awaiting an answer, and replay
the sounds she had uttered, seeking a sense which was suddenly
plain.
    ''Chim Dal dea'San, Clan Wylan,'' she said,
speaking as clearly as possible.
    The guard blamed the headset for a
miscommunication by tapping at it seriously -- but again she
nodded, and used her chin to point toward the MidPort end of the
road, which was now unblocked of the half dozen cabs still
mobile.
    ''Yesm gots it, and 'mander Higdon gives
goheath foyah, pair.''
    Translation this time was easier. Vertu
moved her hand to show that she had gotten the message,
understanding that they were to go now. The gun and belt were heavy
in her hand, but she had tried to give it back several times, and
was every time refused. Tommee had been clear as they gathered him
up --
    ''No'm,'' he said, ''I'm f'surgery, an' got
my backups. You had this, we'd all be better off. You take it, my
gift. That's mine own, an' I give it to you, f-- for your care.
Pleased to be alive, ma'am, an' you taking on anti-armor!