Splinter of the Mind's Eye: Star Wars

by Alan Dean Foster

  “It may be her, by the Force, it just may be,” Governor Essada muttered, now excited. “The youth I don’t know, but he may also be important. I am pleased.”

  “Important, sir? You know of them?”

  “I hope to have part credit for their capture and eventual execution—hers, at least.” Essada looked sharply at the bewildered officer. “They must not be harmed or injured until proper authority arrives for them, Grammel.”

  “It shall be as you say, sir,” a bemused Captain-Supervisor conceded. “But I don’t understand. Who are they, and how do they come to the notice of someone such as—”

  “I require only service from you, Grammel. Not questions.”

  “Yes, sir,” the administrator barked stiffly.

  Essada took a lighter tack. “You did well to contact me directly, though not for the reasons you thought. Once those two are in Imperial hands, you will become Colonel-Supervisor Grammel.”

  “Governor!” Grammel lost his poise completely. “Sir, you are too generous. I don’t know what to say.…”

  “Say nothing,” Essada suggested. “It makes you more tolerable. Keep them alive, Grammel. Whether you go to hell or glory is dependent on how well you carry out these orders. Beyond keeping them alive and healthy you have my permission to restrain them as you please.”

  “Yes, sir. Sir, may I …”

  But Governor Essada had already all but forgotten Grammel.

  “One particular party should find this information of particular notice. It will be well for me, yes.” Abruptly, he noticed that communications were still open.

  “Alive, Grammel. Remember that.”

  “But, sir, can’t you tell …?”

  The screen went blank.

  The Captain-Supervisor stood motionless before the dark rectangle for several long, thoughtful moments. Then he repositioned screen and control panel, turned to the cloaked figure which was crawling out from behind the concealing bulk of a free-formed chair across the room.

  “We appear to have stumbled onto something far more important than either of us dreamed, Bot. ‘Colonel-Supervisor!’” He gazed down at the crystal in his hand, all thoughts of its possible lethal nature shunted aside by the vision of the glittering future ahead of him. “We must take care.”

  The cloaked figure nodded energetically.…

  VI

  “TAKE it easy,” Luke complained, shrugging his arm free of the trooper who was escorting them down the long, narrow stone hallway. As they paced, Luke took the opportunity to study the damp, dripping walls. Some of them showed dark moss. Clearly, the omnipresent moisture of Mimban penetrated the old walls here.

  “You’d think the Imperial government could have invested some credit in modern quarters,” he murmured.

  “Why,” the subofficer ahead of them wanted to know, “when the primitives of this world left us such useful structures?”

  “A temple, a place of worship, and it’s been turned into offices and a prison,” the Princess declared angrily.

  “The Empire does what is necessary,” the subofficer observed in a phlegmatic manner which would have gratified his superiors. “I am told this mining is an expensive venture. The Empire is smart enough to save where it is able,” he concluded with pride.

  “That probably extends to your pay and retirement benefits,” the Princess ventured maliciously.

  “That’s enough talk from the prisoners,” the disgruntled subofficer decided aloud, unhappy with the turn the conversation had taken. They rounded a sharp corner. A network of intersecting diagonal bars formed an unbreakable mesh at the end of the corridor.

  “Here’s your new home,” the subofficer informed them. “Inside you can muse about what the Empire has in store for your future.” As the subofficer passed a palm over the wall on his immediate right, an unbarred ellipsoid appeared in the center of the metal grill.

  “Move,” the trooper next to Luke ordered, prodding him with his rifle.

  “I was told we were going to have company,” Luke ventured, walking toward the empty space with great reluctance. This provoked considerable merriment among the assembled troopers.

  “You’ll find it soon enough,” the subofficer chuckled, “or it’ll find you.”

  Once both prisoners stood inside the cell, the subofficer passed his hand over the photoplate again and the dematerialized bars reappeared with a solid clank.

  “Company, he says,” one of the retreating troopers echoed, as they walked back up the corridor. They continued laughing among themselves.

  “For some reason I’m not amused,” Luke muttered. Each of the angled bars was as big around as his forearm. He flicked one with a nail and it rang like a bell. “Solid, not tubular,” he announced. “This cell was designed to hold more than ordinary people. I wonder what—”

  The Princess gasped, pointed to a far corner and began backing toward the nearest wall. Two massive, hairy mounds lay clustered near the back of the cell, under the single window. The fur moved up and down, indicating it was surrounding something alive.

  “Easy … easy,” Luke instructed, backing close to her and putting both hands on her shoulders. She leaned into him. “We don’t know who they are yet.”

  “We don’t know what they are,” the Princess whispered fearfully. “I think they’re waking up.”

  One of the huge shapes stood, stretched, let out a grunt like a volcano clearing its throat. It turned and caught sight of them.

  Luke’s eyes bugged. He started toward the figure. The Princess put out a hand to hold him back, but he shook it off.

  “Are you out of your mind, Luke? They’ll tear you to pieces.”

  He continued walking slowly toward the waiting figure. It stood little taller than he did, but was built much more massively. Its hair-covered arms reached to the cell floor, the hands dragging on the stone. A long snout protruded from the center of the face, obscuring any mouth. Two huge black eyes stared expectantly at him.

  “Luke, don’t do this … come back here.”

  A querulous growl-rumble sounding like an angry underground spring came from the figure Luke was nearing. The Princess became quiet, pressed worriedly back against the cold stone wall as she slid toward the farthest corner.

  Luke eyed the massive creature warily. They had to make friends fast, or he and Leia wouldn’t have to worry about getting off Mimban except in fragments. He reached out, touched an arm in a certain way. His eyes never left the jet-black orbs staring into his own.

  With startling speed, the creature took a backward hop, chittered something. It was several times Luke’s weight. Dim light from the sealed illuminators in the cell ceiling shone on cable-like shoulder muscles above those double-length arms.

  A pair of plate-sized hands reached out for Luke. He responded by uttering something in low tones. Shaking its head, its snout swinging, the creature hesitated, then rumbled again. Luke spoke louder gibberish at it.

  Reaching out, the beast grabbed Luke with both hands and lifted him off the ground over its head, as if preparing to dash him against the stone floor. The Princess screamed. The creature brought Luke close to its body, closer, and planted a wet kiss on each of Luke’s cheeks before setting him gently back on the floor.

  The Princess stared in disbelief at Luke’s affectionate assailant. “Why didn’t it tear your head off? You …” she gazed at Luke admiringly, “you talked to it.”

  “Yes,” Luke admitted modestly. “I used to study a lot about certain worlds, back on my uncle’s farm on Tatooine. It was my only escape, and educational as well. This,” and he indicated the creature resting a massive long arm on his head and shaking him in a friendly fashion, “is a Yuzzem.”

  “I’ve heard of them, but this is the first time I’ve seen one.”

  “They’re temperamental,” Luke told her, “so I thought it would be better to try and make the first greeting ourselves, using what little language I learned.” He jabbered at the creature, which chittered back. “It
might’ve killed me somewhere else, but all prisoners are allies, it seems.”

  The Yuzzem turned, staggered backward and bumped into the wall. It leaned over and began shaking its still somnolent companion. The second Yuzzem rolled over awake and swung angrily at the first. The massive hand missed, instead connecting with the wall hard enough to leave an impression in the rock. Rolling to a sitting position, it started chittering to its waker, holding its head with one hand.

  “Why,” Leia exclaimed as the realization struck her, “they’re both drunk!” The second Yuzzem finally managed to get to its feet. It growled at her. “No offense,” she quickly added.

  “The one I talked to is called, as near as I can translate it, Hin. That’s Kee leaning against the wall, wishing to be someplace else.” He jabbered at Hin, listened to the reply.

  “I think he said that they’ve been working for the Imperial government’s operation here, got fed up about a week ago and started breaking things. They’ve been locked in here ever since.”

  “I didn’t know the Imperials were hiring non-humans.”

  “Apparently these two didn’t have any choice,” Luke explained, listening to Hin. “They don’t like the Imperials any more than we do. I’ve been trying to convince them that all humans aren’t like the Imperials. I’m pretty sure I’m succeeding.”

  “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 streetwise, “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, screami
ng 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 … almost. 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.