by Steve Perry
Still the healing energies held.
He fought the sense of relief he felt. Fought it and kept his anger pure.
And still they held. Almost two minutes now. A new record.
He would grow stronger. He would add Luke’s power to his own, and he would eventually be able to shed the armor, to walk around as normal men walked.
Luke …
He tried to stop the smile. Failed.
Sank back into the protection of his breathing chamber, unable to maintain the energies any longer. But even so, he’d managed two minutes. Eventually it would be ten minutes, then an hour, then as long as he wished.
Eventually.
Leia was not the most patient woman in the galaxy, she knew. Being cooped up in a room, no matter how well appointed that room might be, was not her idea of fun.
She tried meditating, but her mind buzzed too much.
She worked on escape plans, but given how little information she had, that was also fairly limited in scope.
Finally she took to exercising. She knew some basic gymnastics, easy enough to do as long as you had a little floor space. The carpet was almost as thick as a tumbling mat, and while the roof wasn’t high enough to allow flips—even if she could still do one—there was nothing stopping her from doing handstands and assorted presses. She stretched, twisted, did splits, pitted her muscles against gravity in a variety of ways until she worked up a healthy sweat.
When she was done and fairly exhausted, she felt a lot better. She padded into the refresher and cranked up the shower. Turned off the lights and undressed, showered, and got dressed again in the dark. Tricky business, but since she was fairly sure Xizor had a hidden holocam or three in her room, she was not going to give him a show.
Feeling a little sore but better, Leia once again considered ways to escape. Or, more likely, ways to help Luke with whatever plan he had. She was worried about him, but on another level, pleased that he would come for her.
It was nice to know somebody cared that much.
34
Dash’s contact, one Benedict Vidkun, was more than willing to scan the systems, make maps, lead them himself or whatever else they might want—as long as they had plenty of credits.
They didn’t really have a whole lot of money among them. Lando had a little stashed here and there, plus what he’d managed to get from the Galactic Bank before his accounts on Bespin were shut down by the Empire. But under a pseudonym, Leia had a line of credit from the Alliance for use in emergencies, and Luke knew the account’s access code. He figured this was as good a time as any to use it. Vidkun was willing to sell himself cheaply, too. The engineer’s integrity was apparently worth about three months’ salary—and that was not very much.
He was a short, thin man, fish-belly pale, with bulging brown eyes, a wispy beard and mustache, and more than his share of nose. He tended to clear his throat a lot. According to him, he worked nights, slept days, and seldom saw the sun, save when he went to and returned from his duties under the Imperial Complex. His wife, a somewhat younger woman, apparently had very expensive tastes.
“—see this conduit? This is the subsewer for the entire sector. You could drive a landspeeder through it; it’s huge. The branch we want is here.” He pointed to the holograph floating over the table. “That one drains Xizor’s castle. There’s a locked grate to keep out rats and snake eyes and other vermin, but maintenance has the key codes. After that, it’s a clear shot to the building pipes, here. About a half kilometer is all.”
He touched a control on the projector and the picture changed, enlarged as the viewpoint zoomed in closer on the mass of noodlelike tunnels.
“How big are those?” Lando said.
“You can see, they’re to scale. Big enough for a couple of men to walk side by side, if they ain’t too tall.” He glanced at Chewie. “The Wook here’ll have to hunch down some.”
Chewie growled at the little man.
“Those go into the building itself?”
The engineer cleared his throat, a phlegmy rasp. “Yuh. There’ll be another rat-grate where they enter the structure. We’re not supposed to have the lock codes for those, but, well, it so happens my brother-in-law Daiv works for the firm that got the construction of Xizor’s castle and I can give you those. For a consideration.” He grinned, revealing yellow teeth that looked sharper than they should.
Luke and Lando exchanged glances.
“How much of a consideration?” Dash asked.
“Two hundred and fifty credits?”
“A hundred and twenty-five,” Lando said before Dash could speak.
“Save us a lot of trouble, we got those codes.”
“Blaster energy is cheaper,” Lando said. “We can blow the locks. One-fifty.”
“Make a lot of noise, you don’t want that. One-seventy-five.”
Lando nodded. “Okay, deal.”
The engineer smiled nervously and continued. “Now, we got to watch out for the varmint zapper, here.” He waved his finger through the diaphanous image. “Walk into that field and bzzzt! it’ll cook you faster’n a high-amp microwave blast. As it happens, my other brother-in-law, Lair, he installs these things, and I have the bypass codes.”
“For a consideration,” Luke said. His voice was dry.
“Same price as the other?”
Lando cut his gaze to the ceiling.
Dash said, “All right.”
“After that, all you got to worry about is getting out of the gather chamber and past whatever guards are down there. I can’t help you there; Xizor uses his own people and I don’t know any of ’em.”
“We’ll manage,” Dash said.
Vidkun nodded. He stood.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Lando said.
“Huh? Home.”
“I don’t think so,” Dash said. “I think maybe you’ll stay here with us.”
“But you said you ain’t ready to go until tomorrow.”
“We changed our minds,” Dash said. “We want to go now. And since we don’t want to find a squad of stormtroopers or Black Sun guards waiting for us when we start wading through the sewers, we’d rather you didn’t make any calls.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t turn you in!”
“Not unless you thought you could get more for us from Black Sun or the Empire,” Lando said. “But since you’re going to be leading us, anybody starts shooting, guess who gets it first?”
Vidkun looked nervous. He cleared his throat, swallowed, said, “How about if I call my wife and tell her? She’ll be really mad at me if I don’t.”
“So buy her a nice present when you get back,” Dash suggested. “You’ll have a pocketful of credits, you can make it up to her.”
The engineer rubbed at his face, flashed his orpimental smile again. “Yuh. Well. I guess so, since I don’t have much of a choice.”
“That’s right,” Dash said.
The planet-glow was so bright, the incoming and outgoing ships so plentiful that it never truly got dark here on Xizor’s private balcony. There was apparently a brisk convection-downdraft blowing, generated as the buildings cooled and the night air slid down into the artificial canyons toward the streets far below. Apparently, because even here, many stories above the surface, Xizor’s protections included hand-thick transparisteel plate wrapped around the balcony in an armored bubble. He could see but not feel the night. It was a small price to pay for the safe view.
There was always the option of donning a disguise if he wanted to walk along among the rabble, and thus far, the lack of personal freedom had not bothered him that much.
Guri approached from behind him, her footsteps barely audible.
“All of our security systems have reported,” she said.
“And …?”
“No unexpected activity. Nothing more threatening than usual.”
He nodded. Waited a moment, then said, “I invited her up here.” He waved at the view. “She refused.”
There
was a pause, longer than Guri would normally allow before speaking. She said, “Your pheromonal attractant was insufficient to bend her to your will; that has never happened before.”
“I had noticed that, thank you.”
“This failure has made her more appealing.”
Xizor said, “Your point?”
“One wants more what one cannot have. As long as she resists your advances, her charisma grows stronger. The more she resists, the more you desire her. It has become a contest of wills.”
He smiled. “So it has. Which I will win, eventually.”
Guri said nothing.
“You doubt me?”
“You have never failed before.”
Not really an answer, but true enough. “And you, my ever-vigilant bodyguard, you do not approve.”
“The more intelligent and dedicated someone is, the more dangerous she can be when threatened.”
He stared at a particularly congested lane of ground-to-space traffic. The running lamps of the vessels seemed to form an almost continuous line of bright-colored light.
He said, “You of all beings should understand. Much of life is about the search for equals. You are unique. There are others similar to you, but none exactly like you. You are superior to any other HRD ever created.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Don’t you ever want to meet one who is capable of moving, of feeling, of thinking up to your level? An equal?”
“Not particularly. What would be the point? Greater than I, lesser than I, what does it matter to my functioning?”
He turned away from the light show in the skies and looked at her. “Yet you wish for tasks that will challenge you.”
“Of course.”
“It is the same thing. Yes, it is dangerous to contend with one who might defeat you, and perhaps it is even more dangerous to consort with one who might someday stab you as you lie sleeping next to her; still, the possibilities are so much … more.
“There are billions of women, many of whom are more beautiful, more adept physically, even more dedicated,” he continued. “Maybe even all three. But this one is the one I want and I will have her.”
Guri nodded once. “Ah. This is why you eat moonglow.”
He looked at her. She did understand, at least on some level. He nodded. “After I have accomplished the conquest, when I have grown tired of her, then you may eliminate her.”
“After you have accomplished the conquest.”
He smiled. Heard the unspoken “If you do” in her voice.
After Guri left, he returned to his skygazing. Most people would be thrilled to have found a partner with whom they could live in stimulation for the rest of their lives. He was not most people. He was, just as Guri was, unique. He would wait as long as necessary to taste Leia, and when he had done so, he would be satisfied and finished with her. In his search for equals, she was close, but not quite as good as he.
So far, nobody in the galaxy had been, and he did not expect he would ever find such a person. He was, simply, superior to everyone.
He had learned to live with it.
“Threepio?”
“Yes, Master Luke?”
“Everything okay on the ship?”
There was a short pause. Luke twirled the small comlink absently in his fingers.
Threepio’s voice was somewhat tinny from the comlink. “On the ship, yes. But Artoo has overheard some tactical communications on a shielded operations channel. Apparently there are search teams in the area. They seem to be looking for a Corellian freighter.”
Luke stared at the comlink. “Hmm. Okay. Keep a sharp eye out. If anybody starts snooping around you, call me.”
“Certainly I shall. Right away,” Threepio said.
Luke chewed at his lip. They were about to go into the sewers. He didn’t need any more problems.
Vader stood on the balcony of his castle, immune to the night breeze that washed over him. He had tried to reach out with the Force and find Luke, but had failed. Surely it was Luke? Who else could it be? And if it was—where he was exactly was probably not as important as why he was here in Imperial Center.
Had he come to challenge Vader? Had he been sent on some Rebel scheme to attack the Emperor? The protective line of Imperial warships would stop any attack by the Rebel forces, but it was designed to detect large vessels and not mites. A determined pilot in a small ship could find ways through the Imperial skynet.
What is it, my son? Why have you come here? Let yourself hear me, reveal your whereabouts and I will come to you.
If Luke heard his call, there was no response.
“My lord Vader,” came the voice from behind him.
He turned. The little man who had supplied him with the damning information on Xizor stood there. Vader had left orders he was to be admitted no matter when he arrived.
“You have something for me?”
“Yes, my lord. We have uncovered a pirated copy of certain of the planetary files for Falleen, thought to be destroyed.”
“Why should I find this interesting?”
“It contains some material about Prince Xizor’s family. His father was king of a small nation there.”
Vader frowned. “I knew his father was royalty, but I have been given to understand that Prince Xizor was orphaned at an early age.”
“Not precisely, my lord. You may recall a biological experiment on Falleen that … went awry a decade or so past.”
“Yes, I recall.”
“During the, ah, sterilization procedure, some Imperial citizens’ lives were lost.”
“A regrettable incident.”
The little man touched a control on his belt. A hologram appeared between him and Vader. It appeared to be a family portrait of eight Falleen. Vader looked at the group. There was a certain familial resemblance among them—wait. One of them was Xizor. He looked much the same, a little younger, perhaps. It was hard to say; Falleen aged very slowly; they were a long-lived species.
“Prince Xizor’s family,” the little man said. “All of whom were killed during the destruction of the mutant bacterium that escaped from the lab.”
A light dawned then, bright and clear and sudden in Vader’s mind. Ah! That explained much. It was not simply that Xizor considered Vader a competitor for the Emperor’s affection, not merely a roadblock to his ambitions.
It was personal.
“How did the records of this come to be destroyed?”
The little man shook his head. “We do not know. For some reason, all references to Xizor’s family simply vanished, shortly after the destruction of the city.”
Darth Vader had been in charge of that project. Xizor must consider him responsible for the deaths of his family. And now he wanted to kill Luke—Vader’s son. Not simply to make him lose face in the eyes of the Emperor, but for revenge!
It made sense. Through Black Sun, Xizor had the means to get to and eliminate the records. He was Falleen and thus patient. Was it not the Falleen who said that vengeance was like fine wine? It should be aged until it was perfect. They were cold, the lizard men; they could wait for a long time to get what they wanted.
Well. So could he.
“Once again you have served me well,” Vader said. “When you finish this project, you will no longer have need to worry about money, such is my gratitude.”
The little man bowed low. “My lord.”
Vader waved him away. He had things to think about.
Things to do.
35
By the time they were ready to leave, the small band was outfitted with all the gear they thought they might need for a long hike through the sewers followed by an assault on a heavily fortified building.
Luke certainly didn’t consider himself a Jedi Master, but he elected to use his lightsaber as a weapon. Chewie managed to locate a bowcaster, and Lando and Dash stuck to their own blasters. Nobody offered Vidkun a weapon—if the shooting started, they weren’t at all sure which way he might be fir
ing.
Dash had expressed it by saying that people like Vidkun were useful—but you didn’t trust them any farther than you could see them. You paid them what you owed and then got as far away as you could, fast.
They elected to go during the daylight hours. Vidkun would normally be off work and thus would not be missed. That far under the ground, it wouldn’t matter what the sun was doing, either.
Luke shifted some of the gear on his belt, adjusted the small backpack so it rode more comfortably on his shoulders.
Dash said, “Ready?”
Everybody was.
“Let’s do it.”
Darth Vader received a call from the Emperor, via the holonet:
“My master.”
“Lord Vader. How are things there?”
Why was he asking that? “Calm. There are no problems.”
“Stay alert, Lord Vader. I have felt a disturbance in the Force.”
“Yes, my master.”
When the Emperor had discommed, Vader stood and stared into infinity. Was it Luke the Emperor sensed? Or something else? Black Sun and its amoral leader?
Well. It was time, he decided, to see if he could back that particular adversary into a corner. To his computer, he said, “Get me Prince Xizor.”
In his sanctum, Xizor was mildly surprised at the incoming call.
“Lord Vader. What a pleasant surprise.”
The image of Vader looked, as always, imperturbable. But when he spoke, the durasteel in his voice was barely covered by a thin layer of civility:
“Perhaps not so pleasant. I have been made aware of your attempts to kill Luke Skywalker. You will cease all attempts to harm the boy immediately.”
Xizor kept his face neutral, even though he felt a violent surge of anger. “Your information is in error, Lord Vader. And even if it were correct, I am given to understand that the boy is a Rebel officer, all of whom are traitors and wanted dead or alive. Is this sudden change of policy an official Imperial decree?”
“If Skywalker is harmed, I will hold you personally accountable.”
“I see. I assure you that if I should happen to come across Skywalker, I will extend to him the same courtesy I would to you, Lord Vader.”
