"I hope so," Leia said, eying the massively muscled, long-armed creatures.
"Both Hin and Kee are young, about our age, and not very experienced in Imperial affairs. They signed themselves into-well, I guess you couldn't quite call it slavery, but indentured servitude is too polite a term.
"When they protested, finally, some mine official waved a lot of documents at them and made jokes. So they took their equipment and started trying to fill in the mine instead of empty it out.
"According to Hin, the only reason Grammel didn't have them shot immediately was because each of them does the work of any three men and because they were both intoxicated out of their minds. Apparently Yuzzem," he added unnecessarily, "have long hangovers. Hin believes the Imperials will give them another chance. But he's not so sure he wants one.
"They're in here because the regular cells won't hold them. Come say hello." The Princess hesitated and Luke walked over to her and whispered, "It's okay. I think we could count on them. But better not to tell them who we are."
She nodded, walked over and reached out with a hand. It vanished into a hairy paw. Hin chittered at her. "The same, I'm sure," she said, gaining confidence rapidly. Kee howled and both humans looked to the other Yuzzem, who babbled at Luke.
"Says someone's been using a mining drill on his head for the past week."
Leia began walking away from him, toward the single window. It showed a panorama of mist-obscured lights from the town and was blocked by the same configuration of thick, diagonally placed bars.
"I know someone I'd like to take a drill to," she muttered disconsolately.
"You mean Halla," Luke declared. "She couldn't and can't do a thing for us. If I were in her situation I'd probably be running, too."
Looking over at him, she smiled dazzlingly. "You know that's not true, Luke. You're too loyal and responsible for your own good." Her gaze turned back to the mist-shrouded roofs of the distant town.
"If we hadn't lost control of ourselves back in front of the tavern, we wouldn't have attracted the attention of those miners. We wouldn't be here now. It's my fault."
He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Leia... Princess. This mess was nobody's fault. Besides, it's fun losing control once in a while."
She smiled again, thankfully. "You know, Luke, the Rebellion is lucky to have you. You're a good man."
"Yeah." He turned away. "Lucky for the Rebellion."
There was a chattering from across the cell. Leia eyed Luke questioningly. "Kee says someone's coming," he translated.
Together with the two Yuzzem, they turned their attention to the corridor. Footsteps approached rapidly. Several stormtroopers appeared, an anxious Grammel leading them. He seemed to relax a little on catching sight of his prisoners.
"You're both unharmed?" Luke nodded. "Good," he declared, visibly relieved. His gaze traveled to the Yuzzem and back again to Luke. "I see you're sharing your cell agreeably... so far. I'm pleased. I was afraid I'd have to move you, but if the Yuzzem can tolerate your presence then I think you should stay. You'll be more secure in here. It develops that someone else has expressed an interest in your case."
Luke looked blankly at the Princess, who stared back with equal lack of comprehension.
"Yeah, one of the enforcers back on Circarpous, I'll bet," Luke essayed boldly.
"Not exactly." Another of those enigmatic half-smiles that sent chills down Luke's spine. "An Imperial representative is coming here to question you personally. That's enough for me. I know when to stand aside. So I'm not going to contact our sources on Circarpous until he tells me to."
"Oh," was all Luke could find to say. He was at once pleased and concerned-pleased, because their little tale of being escaped criminals from Circarpous was apparently going to avoid scrutiny for a little while longer; concerned, because he couldn't imagine anything Grammel might have told someone that would intrigue an Imperial representative. Where might they have slipped and revealed something?
"Why would an Imperial representative be so interested in us?" he asked, fishing for information.
"That's what I'd like to know," Grammel replied. He walked to stand next to the bars. "I don't suppose you'd care to tell me?"
"I don't know what you mean," Luke responded, stepping back from the bars.
"I could make you tell me," Grammel growled, "but I've been ordered to..." he had to force himself away from the bars, "to leave you strictly alone. Don't let that make you confident. I am of the impression that this representative-and he is a very important one-will have his own plans for you, and that they will be more unpleasant than anything I in my simple way could devise."
"You or some Imperial officer," Luke shrugged, affecting the casual attitude of the street-wise, "it's all the same to us, so long as we don't get sent back to Circarpous. Wish I knew why all the fuss over us, though."
Grammel shook his head slowly. "You impress me, the two of you. I really wish you'd tell me who you are, and what this is all about." He reached into a pocket and pulled out the little box containing the splinter of Kaiburr crystal.
"But I don't suppose that you will," he concluded with a sigh, replacing the box in the pocket. "As my hands are now tied, I can't force it from you the way I'd like to. I must admit that whatever Governor Essada sees in you two escapes me utterly."
"An Imperial Governor..." Leia had slumped, was backing away and breathing unevenly, both hands going to her face. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
Grammel was studying her intently. "Yes... why should that bother you so?" He glanced sharply at Luke. "What's going on here?"
Ignoring him, Luke moved to comfort the Princess. "Take it easy, Leia, it might not mean anything."
"Imperial Governors don't take an interest in common thieves, Luke," she whispered tightly. Something was clutching at her throat. "I'll be interrogated again... like that time... that time." She broke away, threw herself up against the back wall of the cell.
That time back on the Death Star. Small black worms crawled through her brain. Another Governor's demands, the now-dead Grand Moff Tarkin, the machine drifting into her holding cell. The remorseless black machine, illegal, concocted by twisted Imperial scientists in defiance of every code, legal and moral. It drifted over to her, moved down, metal limbs preparing to perform efficiently, emotionlessly, in response to inhuman programming.
Screaming, screaming, screaming never to stop she was...
Something hit her hard. She blinked, turned to see Luke looking at her, worried. She slid down to sit up against the wall. Hin had ambled over. The massive, black-eyed Yuzzem bent solicitously over her. One long arm went to touch her curiously, the long flexible snout sniffing at her.
"She'll be okay, Hin," Luke told the alien in its own language as he helped Leia wipe away cold tears.
"Just the Empire's reputation for cruelty," he called back to Grammel. The explanation sounded lame even to his own ears.
Grammel pressed up against the bars again. "She's been through questioning before. She knows something," he insisted excitedly. "Who is she? Who are you two? Tell me!" He pounded on the bars with a fist. "Tell me!" Then his tone turned sly-soft.
"Maybe I can intercede on your behalf with whomever the Imperial representative is. I want everything I can get out of this, you hear me? You two will be my ticket off this lost world. I want off and I want the promotion Essada promised me, and I want more if I can get it! Tell me who you are, what you know. I'll bargain with you. Give me something to use, some information to trade with so I won't meet your inquisitor unarmed!"
Luke gave Grammel a pitying look.
"Who are you!" Grammel screamed furiously, furious at his own helplessness to do anything but beg, an action he was unaccustomed to. "Why are you so important to him? Tell me, or I'll have the woman dismembered before your eyes in spite of what Essada ordered! Tell me, tell me, tell me... unk!"
An enormous paw had shot through the bars and had Grammel by the throat... alm
ost. With a desperate effort the Captain-Supervisor barely managed to pull free. Another paw reached after the first. An alert trooper had dropped to one knee and fired his rifle. Even though it was set for stun, the bolt which caught Kee in the side sent the Yuzzem tumbling across the floor. A scorched black streak showed on the thick fur. Kee rolled over, holding the burnt place, panting softly and staring through the bars. Hin moved to his injured companion and checked the wound, also glared frighteningly out at Grammel. Then he moved to the bars.
Grammel stood just out of the long reach, not smiling, as Hin lunged for his throat. A huge hand flailed at the air centimeters away while the Captain-Supervisor massaged his neck. The Yuzzem grabbed the bars, pulled in opposite directions, straining, straining.
Looking on with academic interest, Grammel reassured the subofficer standing next to him. "There's no more danger, Puddra. They can't break those bars. Not a dozen Yuzzem could."
Despite this confidence it seemed that Hin, with a supreme effort, actually did bend one bar slightly. Then he gave up, gasping deeply. Holding the bars and shaking with rage, he gave Grammel a stare of naked hatred.
Grammel sighed a little in spite of himself. "See, I told you," he confided to the subofficer.
"You're all right, Captain-Supervisor?" the man inquired from behind his armor.
"Fine now, Puddra," he assured the subordinate. He made a show of wrinkling his nose. "Except for the smell, of course." He spoke easily to Luke: "You two must be special. Anyone who can stand the odor of a Yuzzem..." He made a face, shook his head in mock astonishment. "To exist in that stink for more than a few minutes requires some special quality." Hin obliged by howling madly at the Captain-Supervisor. "Go ahead and rage," Grammel told Hin pleasantly. "As soon as I can convince the mine director that you two aren't worth the risk of rehabilitation for work, I'll disassemble you personally. After having you thoroughly deodorized, of course." He turned to leave.
As he did so, Hin made a strange sound. It was followed by a forceful phut from the long snout. The huge blob of spit struck Grammel on the back of the neck, just above the high collar. Wiping it away, the Captain-Supervisor growled viciously back over his shoulder.
"You grinning travesty of a man. Soon, very soon, I promise." He gestured sharply to the troops, and they disappeared in a body up the corridor.
Hin left the bars, walked back to check on the Princess. She had fainted and Luke was supporting her with one arm. A grumble and Luke commented knowingly.
"Yes, he's a prince, our jailer, isn't he?"
By way of reply, Hin picked up a piece of gravel from the floor. Rolling it between two long fingers, he pulverized it effortlessly and let the dust trickle back to the ground.
"I hope you can do that to him someday, Hin," Luke agreed, eying the Yuzzem. "Right now, though, I'm afraid our chances of getting out of here, let alone of getting to the Captain-Supervisor, aren't very good."
A moan, and the Princess reached out toward Luke. He caught her hands and she opened her eyes in surprise. An uncertain glance, then she saw the huge-eyed Hin staring at her curiously.
"I'm sorry, Luke." He helped her to her feet. "The thought of going through an Imperial interrogation again... I lost control."
"That's understandable. You won't go through another session. I'll see to that."
She smiled at him. Why discourage such confidence with mere facts?
Luke had moved to the single window, was testing the bars with exploratory pulls. "They're just as solid as they look," he grunted. "No way out here."
"The Yuzzem probably already tried that," she pointed out reasonably.
A small section of stone wall slid aside and she jumped. A reassuring rush to the wall from both Yuzzem caused Luke to relax. Several bowls and dishes of something steaming were slipped into the cell on smooth metal trays before the stone panel slid back into place.
Hin and Kee left no doubt as to the contents of the dishes. They grabbed one apiece and started wolfing down the contents.
"I don't think much of Yuzzem table manners," Luke observed. "I think if we want something to eat, we'd better hurry or they won't leave us a thing."
Exchanging glances, they studied the contents of the two remaining trays. Luke sniffed of the contents of one bowl, shrugged, and tried a spoonful.
"Some kind of stew," he decided. "Not bad for prison fare."
"Remember," Leia said, "Grammel's under instructions to keep us healthy. Until the Imperial Governor's representative arrives."
Luke paused between mouthfuls to venture hopefully, "At least if we do get a chance to escape, we'll be able to do it on a full stomach."
Luke finished his meal, rose and walked over to the bars forming their cell. He stared down the corridor at the distant spot on the stone wall where the cell entry control was emplaced. Leia eyed him quietly.
If only they could cover the recessed photosensitive switch with something, he mused. His gaze traveled around the cell. The trays on which their food had appeared were smooth, unmalleable metal. No way to attach them to one another. The result wouldn't be nearly long enough to reach the far-off switch anyway. And it was, self-evidently, well out of the extended reach of the two Yuzzem.
"We've got to get a hand or something over that switch," he muttered in frustration.
"Or something, Luke boy."
Everyone started at the unexpected voice, especially the excitable Yuzzem. Hin rushed toward the window but Luke, fortunately, got there before him.
"No... it's a friend, Hin." The Yuzzem gibbered and clacked at him, but finally moved away. Luke rushed to the opening himself, grabbed the bars and stood on tiptoe to look out. A wrinkled, smiling face stared brightly back at him.
"Halla!" he almost shouted. "You didn't forget us after all!" He tried to see past her. "What about Threepio and Artoo Detoo?"
"Your 'droids are fine, boy. As for me, I never forget a partner. Besides, I need you two. So don't go emotional on me. It's the crystal I'm after." Her grin faded and she stared hard at him. "Did you tell that maggot Grammel anything about me?"
"No," Luke assured her. There was a cough and he noticed the Princess staring at him. "Well, not exactly," he corrected himself. "He thinks we were trying to sell the crystal fragment to you."
Halla chuckled. "So that's why I wasn't brought in for questioning. Grammel always did see things through the wrong end. He's taken the fragment, I guess?"
"I'm sorry." Luke looked downcast. "We couldn't do anything about it."
"Never mind, boy. We'll have the whole crystal soon. Soon's we get you out."
"How? You've got something to blow the wall?"
"Now, that would be a waste of time, boy. What would you do, run away from here?" She paused, realization striking. "Say, I'll bet you can't see down out of this window, can you?"
"No, only in a straight line," Luke admitted.
"Boy, I'm standing on a ledge about ten centimeters wide, over a forty-meter-deep trench. There's a barrier on the other side that would detect any energy weapons or explosives anyone tried to carry over here. Or did you think I was pressing this close to the wall because I like the way your breath smells?"
"Halla, you're crazy! What if you slip?"
"I'll make a small splash, Luke boy. As for the first, since everyone seems so sure I'm crazy, I don't see any harm in acting like it. Only a crazy old woman would come sliding out on this little bitty ledge here. That means you couldn't negotiate it. No, boy. The only way out of here is back the way you came."
A loud, exuberant grunting sounded behind Luke. Hin came over, put a hand on Luke's shoulder and eyed Halla imploringly. Then he and Luke engaged in a rapid exchange of grunts. Hin walked back into the cell and commenced a low dialogue with Kee while Halla looked on uncertainly.
"What was that all about?" she asked Luke. "I don't understand that monkey talk."
"Hin told me," Luke translated for her, "that if you can get us out of the cell, Kee and he will take care o
f getting us out of the building."
"You think they can?" Halla wondered, licking her lips.
Luke looked confident. "I wouldn't want to bet against a pair of desperate Yuzzem. There's something else. If we help them escape, they'll help us in the hunt for the crystal."
"A help they'd be," Halla admitted readily. "And I can see why they'd throw in with us. Once they break jail, they've no hope of leniency from Grammel."
"How are you going to get us out of here?"
Halla adjusted her precarious stance above the sheer drop, then said proudly, "I told you I was a master of the Force. Stand aside, young man."
Not knowing what to expect, Luke did as he was told. The Princess folded her arms and looked skeptical and anxious simultaneously.
Halla's eyes closed and she appeared to enter some kind of trance. Luke felt the stirring, knew that she was manipulating the Force in a way he could never manage well. Not necessarily in a superior fashion, just... different. His greatest concern was that in her altered condition she might lose her grip on the temple's exterior. But she remained in place as if frozen there, her brow contorted as she strained.
He heard a gasp, and he spun around to look where the Princess was pointing. One of the metal food trays had risen, drifted lazily in the air of the cell. It began moving toward the bars. Luke looked back at Halla. It was a simple parlor trick, but one he could never have duplicated. Levitation was not a skill he had mastered very well. But it seemed to be the one thing Halla could do. He remembered the spice shaker on the tavern table, and held his breath.
Sweating, her face twisted with the effort, Halla moved the tray. It thumped against the bars. Luke winced, thinking it might be too wide to squeeze through any of the openings. But the tray turned, angled to match the bars, and slipped through with a slight scraping sound. Fluttering, it continued drifting up the corridor.
Halla was hardly breathing now, her entire being thrown into the tremendous effort she was making. Luke watched as the tray dipped, rose to its former height, dipped again before continuing on up the corridor.
"Boy," came an echo of the old woman's voice, "you got to help me." Her eyes were still closed.
Splinter in the Mind's Eye Page 9
