Beauclaire saluted and rose to go.
"When you see Wyatt," the Commandant said, "tell him I won't be able to make it down before you leave. Too busy. Got papers to sign. Got more damn papers than the chief has ulcers."
The young man waited.
"That, God help you, is all," said the Commandant.
yatt saw the letter when the young man was still a long way off. The white caught his eye, and he watched idly for a moment. And then he saw the fresh green gear on the man's back and the look on his face as he came up the ladder, and Wyatt stopped breathing.
He stood for a moment blinking in the sun. Me? he thought ... me?
Beauclaire reached the platform and threw down his gear, thinking that this was one hell of a way to begin a career.
Wyatt nodded to him, but didn't say anything. He accepted the letter, opened it and read it. He was a short man, thick and dark and very powerful. The lines of his face did not change as he read the letter.