by Watson, Jude
“Because they only give good references to the elite students,” Marit said. She tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it in her bowl, then took a bite. “You should see what happens before graduation. The fathers and mothers and benefactors come, and they give the teachers presents. I mean, real presents. Like a landspeeder. Or tickets on a resort starship. Things like that. And suddenly their little darling winds up as a Senatorial aide.” She waved the bread in the air.
Reymet suddenly reached for a custard tart and darted out of the room. Ferus signaled Anakin, then slipped out after Reymet.
Anakin would have liked to keep talking to this interesting girl, but he and Ferus had agreed to keep Reymet under surveillance. “That’s too bad,” Anakin said. “I think I need more tea. Will you excuse me for a minute?”
Marit shrugged again. “Sure.”
Anakin hoped he hadn’t been rude. He gave a quick glance to Professor Aeradin, still smacking his lips over his food, then slipped out the door. He saw Ferus at the end of the hallway and hurried up to him.
“Did you lose him?”
“He went into a restricted area,” Ferus said. He pointed to a door that seemed closed until Anakin noticed that a tiny wedge had been placed between the edge of the door and the wall.
He leaned over to examine it. It was a small, flexible piece of transparisteel that was almost invisible. When he pushed on the edge, the door opened just enough for him to slip a hand inside. He reached around and felt for the controls. He pressed the button and the door slid open.
“Pretty clever,” he said.
“It’s the teacher’s quad, so it’s not alarmed,” Ferus said. “I wonder what he’s doing in there.”
“Let’s find out.” Anakin hurried through the doorway. As soon as Ferus was through, he positioned the wedge and pressed the button to close the door. It slid almost shut.
“What if we get caught?” Ferus said. “We could get confined to our rooms between classes. How will we investigate?”
“Pretty simple. We’ll have to avoid getting caught,” Anakin said.
The hallway was empty. They proceeded, making no sound. Teachers’ offices lined the walls, all of them unoccupied. The teachers were in class or monitoring the students. At the end of the hall was a door marked TEACHERS’ LOUNGE. It was slightly ajar. Anakin put his eye against the crack.
Reymet had the custard tart between his teeth as he slipped a flat disk into a datapad and then placed it in a cabinet marked AERADIN. He closed the cabinet door and then punched several numbers into a pad at the side. Anakin heard a lock click.
Chewing, Reymet began to absently leaf through some durasheets left on the cabinet. Anakin eased back and motioned to Ferus.
“So that’s how he infiltrated Professor Aeradin’s hologram test,” Anakin whispered. “He’s pretty clever. He must have stolen Aeradin’s disk when Aeradin was at lunch.”
Ferus nodded. “He sure knows how to get around security measures. I think one of us should keep an eye on him. He’s in two of my classes. I’ll do it.”
It was a logical conclusion, but Anakin still felt annoyed. Ferus hadn’t really consulted him. It was more like he was thinking out loud. It was typical of Ferus’s high-handed behavior, and yet he expected Anakin to cooperate with him without complaint. He knew if he told Obi-Wan this, his Master would brush aside his feelings and say that the mission was more important and that inner balance could not be attained without serenity.
This was all true, but Anakin would bet on one thing—when Obi-Wan was a Padawan, he didn’t have to deal with anyone like Ferus Olin.
Anakin and Ferus hurried back to the dining hall. They knew that Reymet would be returning as well. Soon the midday meal would be over.
Students were beginning to gather their things and start for their classes as Anakin entered the dining hall and returned to his table. Marit was gone. He slid his fingers underneath his still-full bowl. So was his river stone.
Chapter Five
Obi-Wan was ushered immediately into Berm Tarturi’s private office. The Senator from Andara had a grand suite hung with delicate curtains of silver and gold shimmersilk. The different flowers of Andara were stitched with bright crimson thread into the fabric. Instead of a desk or table, Berm Tarturi sat on a platform with plush cushions. The platform had a work surface that swiveled up from underneath so that one could recline and work at the same time.
Tarturi was a large man with a bald head and a flowing black beard. He looked up at Obi-Wan, and the misery on his face was a contrast to the luxurious surroundings.
“I have heard from them at last.” He pushed a datascreen toward Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan walked forward to read it.
WE HAVE YOUR SON. WAIT FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.
On the screen was an image of a tall, muscular boy clutching a blanket around his shoulders. His mouth was twisted in a way that told Obi-Wan he was trying to be brave.
Obi-Wan felt his fury rise at the sight, but he kept his voice neutral. “Not much to go on,” he said.
Berm dropped his head in his hands. “They are trying to torture me. There is a personal vendetta here. I can feel it.”
“Do you suspect who it is?” Obi-Wan asked.
“It is Rana Halion,” Berm said. “I’m sure of it. She’s the driving force behind those who wish to overthrow the Andaran trade system. She’s the ruler of Ieria, the next largest planet to Andara. I’ve known her for years. She’s a ruthless politician. She has assembled a secret army and has persuaded several other worlds to join the effort. She is now at the Senate, lobbying for help for her cause. She claims the Andaran system needs two representatives in the Senate. She’s trying to grab power, nothing more. She says she speaks for the majority of those in the Andaran system. It is a lie! I am the Senator of Andara. She will stop at nothing to get what she wants.”
“She would kidnap a young boy?” Obi-Wan asked. “That is a serious charge, Senator.”
He looked up at Obi-Wan bleakly. “She is a serious person. What are rules and laws to her? I’m positive that she or her supporters have broken into my office and looked through my files.”
“Was security breached?” Obi-Wan asked.
“No, but I know she was here! Someone was!” Berm insisted. “I’m telling you, she has my son. What are you going to do about it?” Berm’s voice had risen shrilly.
“I am here to find your son,” Obi-Wan said calmly. “I will investigate what you have told me. Accusing her without proof would get us nowhere. And you don’t want to endanger Gillam.”
Berm slumped back against the cushions. “No, of course not. I haven’t brought in Coruscant security because they are so heavy-handed. I knew the Jedi could handle this discreetly. It’s just that I fear for Gillam. He thinks he is an adult. He is only sixteen.” He glanced at the datascreen and his gaze softened.
“I know what that is like,” Obi-Wan said, thinking of Anakin.
“We must find him soon,” Berm said.
“Do you have enemies in the Senate?” Obi-Wan inquired.
Berm shook his head.
“I find that hard to believe, Senator,” Obi-Wan said. “All politicians have enemies.”
“Not me,” Berm shot back. “Oh, I suppose I have political disagreements with my colleagues. But enemies? I do not cultivate them.”
“We do not need to cultivate enemies,” Obi-Wan said. “They flourish without us.” He sensed that Berm Tarturi did not want to answer the question, so he tried a different tack. “Tell me about security at the Leadership School.”
“I demanded a report from them that includes the data recorders from that night,” Berm said. He reached over for a holofile. “Here is the report.” He thrust it at Obi-Wan eagerly. “Perhaps you can find something in it. I couldn’t. I had the best security experts go over it. I chose the Leadership School not only because of its reputation, but because of its security. It rivals the best in the galaxy. How could Gillam just disappear? That�
��s what makes me think that Rana is responsible. She has a planetary treasury to draw on. She could hire the most sophisticated tech team in the galaxy to override the system. Didn’t she break in here without tripping the alarm?”
Obi-Wan took a quick look at the holofile in his hands. “Everything seems in order, but I’ll have the analysts at the Temple go over this. How often do you communicate with your son normally?”
“Almost every night. The school has a contact hour in the evenings. Otherwise he is on comm silence.”
Obi-Wan knew this. Students were restricted in use of communication devices except for a one-hour period. It was the time he had set up to speak with Anakin and Ferus.
“We’re very close,” Berm went on. “His mother died three years ago.”
Obi-Wan looked down at the security report. “It says here that you last checked in with Gillam over a month ago.”
Berm flushed. “There are many details at the Senate that require my attention. That doesn’t mean I’m not close to my son.”
“Did Gillam have special friends at the school?”
“Of course. He’s very popular.”
“What are their names?”
Berm looked at him blankly. “Ah…let me see. Hmm. I don’t recall. The stress of this whole affair has been so great, it’s hard to remember every detail.…”
“How about vacations? Where did Gillam spend his?”
“With me, of course. Unless my duties here prevented him from joining me. Then he would spend vacations at our mountain home on Andara.”
“By himself?”
“Of course not. There were servants in attendance.”
Obi-Wan nodded. He was beginning to get the picture of a lonely boy.
Berm seemed to sense this, for he said quickly, “But he loved coming here to visit me. He was just here a month ago. He wants to be a Senator, like me. We are very close.”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “Let me take this message with me, and I’ll keep you updated.”
“Anything I can do for my son, I will do,” Berm said.
“I appreciate that, Senator Tarturi,” Obi-Wan replied. He believed that the Senator was sincere. But he did not believe that Tarturi had told him everything. Senators were used to concealing some of the truth in order to place themselves in the best light. It was their nature. He needed a clear view of Senator Tarturi’s role in the Senate, and he knew just who to ask.
Obi-Wan tried to access the door to Tyro Caladian’s tiny office, but the door stuck after it had slid open only a few centimeters.
“Tyro?” he shouted inside the crack.
“Go away,” a muffled voice answered.
“It’s Obi-Wan!”
“Obi-Wan! For star’s sake, don’t move.” Obi-Wan heard the sound of crashing and banging. “I’m coming—oof! Don’t…I’m almost there…ah!”
The door slowly opened, pushed by Tyro. “Can’t you…” he puffed “…use your Force…to help?”
Obi-Wan leaned against the door frame, watching. “I’m enjoying this too much.”
Tyro got the door all the way open. He wiped his forehead, where his fur had matted with sweat. “So happy to amuse. Thanks.”
Obi-Wan strolled inside. Tyro’s office was filled with plastoid boxes crammed with durasheet documents. More plastoid file boxes were stacked against a wall. Some of the boxes had been shoved against the door, causing it to jam. “What’s going on?”
“I told you I’d get something on Sano Sauro,” Tyro said, climbing over a box to get to a holodocument-strewn desk. “I requisitioned all the documents in the Senate registry that involve his homeworld. He couldn’t seal everything, just his personal docs.”
“All of them?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously. “But he’s been a Senator for nine years!”
Tyro ruefully surveyed the crowded office. “Well, it might take a while. But what can I do for you, Obi-Wan? I’m at your service, as always.”
“What do you know about Berm Tarturi?” Obi-Wan asked. He raised a hand and used the Force to push aside a tower of documents in order to sit down.
Tyro looked from the ease of Obi-Wan’s gesture back to the door he had struggled with. His ears twitched as he sat down. “I sure could use that Force of yours. Think how I could save on maid service. Anyway—Tartun. The one whose son has been kidnapped.”
Obi-Wan was startled. “How do you know that? There’s been no official word.”
Tyro smiled, his small, pointed teeth glistening. “Why are you in this office?”
Obi-Wan inclined his head. “Because you hear everything.”
“What exactly do you need to know?” Tyro said. “I know many things about Senator Tarturi. For example, at the moment he is engaged in the fight of his political career.”
“Who is his biggest enemy in the Senate?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Are you serious?” Tyro said. “You don’t know?”
“Why else would I be here?” Obi-Wan asked irritably. “Because I enjoy filing?”
“Sano Sauro is his biggest enemy,” Tyro said.
“Sauro?” Obi-Wan felt his pulse quicken. “Tarturi didn’t mention him.”
Tyro snorted. “He wouldn’t. They are locked in a bitter battle over the redistribution of trade routes. Typical Senate bureaucratic tangle, but for them—it might as well be life or death. It means money, payoffs…and reelection. The battle has left them mortal enemies.”
“But why wouldn’t Tarturi tell me this?” Obi-Wan wondered.
“Because Senators never admit they have enemies, Obi-Wan,” Tyro said patiently. “Don’t you know that by now? It gives their opponents more power if they acknowledge them.”
“Even when his son is missing?”
Tyro laughed, but the laugh had no humor in it. “His mother could be missing, his wife, and his pet nek battle dog. He still wouldn’t tell you everything.”
“So,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, “if Berm Tarturi was distracted by his son’s kidnapping…”
“Sauro could profit handsomely,” Tyro finished. “The committee is in session right now. If Tarturi misses even one meeting, Sauro could gain the upper hand.” Tyro sat up straighter. “Do you think Sauro could be involved?”
“Does Sauro know Rana Halion?” Obi-Wan asked.
“The leader of the Andaran opposition? I don’t think so,” Tyro answered. “But if he did meet with her, it would have to be in secret. Naturally he would support her efforts in the Andaran system. It would destroy Tarturi’s power base.” Tyro tapped a triple-jointed finger on a pile of datasheets. “Not to mention that Halion could get her new trade routes if she throws her support to Sauro. They both have much to gain from an alliance.”
“So if Halion cooked up a plot to kidnap Gillam Tarturi, Sauro might help,” Obi-Wan said.
Tyro nodded. “My enemy’s enemy is my friend, you mean.”
“Or he could have cooked up the plot and enlisted her. It is certainly something he is capable of.”
Tyro’s ears twitched excitedly. “If we could find proof, it would mean the end of his career. I’d have him in prison. And you’d have your files. The block of the order to reveal would be dissolved.”
“And we’d find Gillam Tarturi,” Obi-Wan said.
Chapter Six
“Today we shall consider the geopolitical effect of the great Lali Plague,” Professor Win Totem said. Then she sat down with great dignity, right on a custard turnover.
The class exploded with laughter. It went on a little too long, Anakin noted. The constant anxiety the students felt led them to grasp at any relief.
The tall professor with the regal bearing stood and regarded the ruby-colored stain on the back of her white septsilk gown.
“Ferus Olin,” she rapped out. “You are responsible for this!”
Ferus started. “I assure you, Professor, I am not.”
“Ten more demerits for lying,” Professor Win Totem barked. Her blue skin flushed an angry purple. “You are the onl
y one who could have done it. I asked you to distribute the notes before class.”
Anakin watched as Ferus clenched his hands. He knew what Ferus was thinking. Ferus and Reymet had distributed the notes together. They did everything together now. Flattered by Ferus’s attention, Reymet had become his tagalong. But Reymet couldn’t resist playing his practical jokes, and Ferus was getting blamed. Anakin also knew that Ferus could not point the finger at Reymet. He was trying to befriend him. Besides, if Ferus told on Reymet, he’d be a tattletale, what the students called a womp fink.
Reymet’s face was pure innocence. He shook his head with concern as he studied the stain on Professor Totem’s gown.
Totem turned back to the lesson. Anakin hid his grin as he bent over his datascreen. It served Ferus right. He had grabbed the assignment to watch Reymet. He deserved the consequences. Anakin couldn’t imagine two people more unlike each other than Ferus and Reymet. He knew that the secret pleasure he got from watching Ferus being blamed for a practical joke wasn’t very Jedi-like, but on the other hand, he couldn’t wait to tell his friends Tru and Darra that Ferus had gotten demerits for putting a custard turnover on a teacher’s chair.
Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Marit eyeing him curiously. He had been playing a waiting game with her. After he’d discovered that his stone was missing, his first impulse was to rush after her and demand it back. It was his most precious possession, and he hated being without it.
But he had stopped himself. What would Obi-Wan have done?
Take a breath and think, Anakin.
So he asked himself why Marit had taken it. She must have known that he would immediately realize that she had it. Did she want to provoke a confrontation? Did she want to see what he would do?
Anakin had decided to wait. Not the easiest course of action for him. Not at all. But he was puzzled and intrigued by Marit, and he wanted her to feel the same. Let Ferus chase after Reymet. Anakin’s instincts told him that there was more to Marit than he knew.
So even though he felt her eyes on him, he didn’t turn. Nor did he acknowledge her when Professor Totem had them break into groups and Marit joined his. He didn’t respond when she tried to catch his eye, even during the most boring stretch of the professor’s lecture.
