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Ambush at Corellia

Page 15

by Roger MacBride Allen


  “You’ll Support me?” Lando asked. He could hear the capital “S” in “Support.” “Support me in what way?”

  Karia smiled, as if it were a silly question. “In all ways. I will care for your health, provide for you financially, clothe you, feed you, and shelter you.”

  “And in return?” Lando asked.

  “And in return you will live well. It is the law on our world that by marrying me, I will become your sole heir.”

  “And I will become yours?” he asked.

  Karia smiled again. “Yes, that is so.”

  “I’m not quite clear here. What will happen after five years?” Lando asked. “You will cease to support me? Will we then no longer be married?”

  “As you said, we shall be married until death do us part.”

  “But I’ll have to fend for myself, eh? Well, that certainly seems fair enough,” Lando said. “But let me make something clear. I don’t want or intend just to live off you. I want to work. I want to make things, build things, run things. I want to find grand projects that deserve to happen and make them happen.”

  “Yes, of course. That is your gift. You must pursue it. You are pursuing it, and are willing to sacrifice all for it. You seek a source of investment capital, and that I shall be for you. I will not be so imprudent as to give you all of what I have, but I assure you that this”—she gestured to indicate the incredibly opulent house and grounds—“is but the least of what is mine. You will have the finances to do what you seek to do. Will that be satisfactory?”

  “Yes! Of course! Absolutely,” Lando said. No one had ever offered him terms like these before. He would have to be insane to turn them down, or give her a chance to change her mind.

  Karia stood up. “Then let us perform the ceremony,” she said.

  Lando and Luke both got up as well, guided half by reflex and surprise. “What, now?” Lando asked.

  “Certainly,” Karia said. “What point could there be in waiting longer? We both know what we want, and each of us knows the other can provide it. Life is short, and delay is death.”

  “Lando, wait a second!” Luke said. “There’s something wrong here. I don’t know what it is, but there is something wrong.”

  Karia’s mood changed abruptly. “Does the great Jedi Master question my veracity?” she asked, with steel in her voice. “Come, look into my soul, and see if deception lurks there. I have nothing to fear.”

  “There is no need,” Luke said. “I do not doubt your intentions are all they should be. I do not think you intend to deceive. But even so, there is something wrong. I beg that you give my friend time—if only an hour—to pause and reflect.”

  Karia’s eyes flashed with anger. “In another hour, another suitor may come. In another hour, I might not like your friend so much as I do now. No. He knows all he needs to know, and he knows why he came here. It is now or never.”

  Lando grabbed Luke by the arm and pulled him close. “Luke, back off,” he whispered. “She’s right. This is what I was after. Don’t mess this up for me.”

  Luke looked Lando straight in the eye. “Lando,” he said in a low voice. “I tell you that something’s missing here. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Lando felt a knot at the pit of his stomach, and suddenly he realized he was scared. Very scared. Of what, he did not know. But if he were a man who ran away from what scared him, the second Death Star might still be in the sky. Courage was for when you were scared. “No, I’m not sure,” he whispered back. “But as the lady said, life is risk. If here and now is my one chance, then I take my chance now.” He turned back toward their hostess, smoothed his hair down, and straightened his tunic. “This ceremony,” he said in as steady a voice as he could manage. “Exactly what does it involve?”

  Karia gestured toward a five-sided red canopy that stood at the south side of the great room. “There,” she said. “We stand under the canopy, activate a recording device, repeat a brief oath in front of a witness, perform the blood kiss, and the deed is done.”

  “Blood kiss?” Lando asked, a bit anxiously.

  Karia smiled. “A most lurid name for a most gentle ritual. It is nothing. A pinprick on your right forefinger. A spot of blood. I kiss it. You do the same to me, and that is all. We will be wed.”

  “And that’s legally binding?” Lando said. “We’ll be married in the eyes of the law, and of society?”

  Karia laughed again. “Oh yes, indeed. It is most certainly a binding ceremony. We shall be well and truly wedded, one to the other.”

  Lando took a deep breath and stepped forward. He extended his left hand toward his bride, and she put her hand on his. “Then here is our witness, and now is the time.”

  “Lando! No!” Luke protested, and made as if to step toward him.

  Lando held up his right hand toward Luke, palm out. “This is what I want, Luke,” he said. “This is what you promised to help me get, on the oath of a Jedi Master. I say to you that now is the time for you to honor that oath. You shall be our witness.”

  Lando could see the conflict in his friend’s face, the fear for him struggling with the promise Luke had made. “Very well,” Luke said at last. “On the oath of a Jedi Master, let us perform the ritual.”

  * * *

  The cab driver had made one wrong turn, and corrected it with a U-turn of remarkable violence. Now, at last, they were in front of the Ver Seryan house. Threepio suddenly realized that Artoo could not get out of the hovercar without assistance, and yet was blocking the door.

  “Driver!” Threepio cried out, tapping on the scuffed clear plastic barrier that divided the front seat from the back. “I’m afraid I must ask your help again to get my counterpart back out of the cruiser.”

  The driver turned around and glared at Threepio most unpleasantly. “Come on, you crazy tin box. It was tough enough getting him into the cab back at the spaceport.”

  “True enough,” Threepio said. “But the sooner my counterpart is out of your vehicle, the sooner you can be on your way.” It had not escaped Threepio’s notice that their driver clearly did not like the idea of getting this close to the Ver Seryan place. In any event, the argument convinced the driver. He popped open the door to the driving compartment, got out, opened the rear door, slapped one meaty hand on either side of Artoo, and pulled him out of the cab with a single mighty heave. He dumped Artoo unceremoniously on the grass by the side of the road. Threepio was barely able to get out of the cab before the driver was back behind the controls and driving off at high speed, using the acceleration of his start to slam the passenger door shut.

  “Well!” said Threepio. “I can’t say that I am sorry to see the last of him! Come along, Artoo, we must hurry.”

  Artoo managed to right himself, but it was plain to see that he was going to have some difficulty navigating his way up to the house. Artoo swiveled his visual sensor toward Threepio and whistled frantically.

  “Oh! My goodness, Artoo, you are quite right. Under the circumstances, I certainly should not wait for you.” Threepio turned toward the house, and made his ungainly way toward it, moving as fast as his somewhat ill-coordinated locomotion system would carry him.

  It would be most vexing if they were too late, after all the trouble they had been through. No doubt Master Luke might well be upset. It would be a great inconvenience to everyone if it turned out Captain Calrissian was doomed to mortal peril.

  * * *

  They stood under the red five-sided canopy near the south wall, and low, haunting music played from some hidden source. A single red candle stood on a low five-sided table at the exact center of the canopy, and burned with a strange blue flame. Lando stood on the east side of the low table, and Karia on the west.

  Luke stood, watching, just outside the canopy, on its north side, with the length of the great room at his back. He did not like this. He did not like it one little bit. But he had sworn an oath, and he saw no way out. He watched as the wedding ceremony began.

 
Karia lifted her hands, and offered them, palm down, to Lando, one hand on either side of the candle. Lando placed his hands over hers, close enough to the candle that the blue flame cast its light on his skin.

  “Left hand in right, right hand in left,” she began. “East to west, west to east. Sunrise facing sunset as dusk faces dawn,” Karia said. “Life, shorter than a moment. Life, longer than memory. Each side touching each. Two shall be one, and one shall be all.” She nodded to him, indicating that he should repeat the words.

  “Left hand in right, right hand in left,” Lando said. “East to west, west to east,” he said, speaking the words slowly and carefully. “Sunrise facing sunset, as dusk faces dawn. Life, shorter than a moment. Life, longer than memory. Each side touching each. Two shall be one, and one shall be all.”

  She nodded, and moved her left hand away from his right. She reached down onto the table, and picked up an instrument with an elaborately carved handle, resembling a ceremonial dagger. But this dagger had no blade. Instead, it had a ten-centimeter needle, its point so sharp it was hard to see. She stuck the needle’s point into the candle’s flame, which flared from bright blue to glowing, ruddy red.

  Her right hand was still under Lando’s left. Now she turned Lando’s left hand over so that it was palm up. She held Lando’s forefinger between her thumb and forefinger, raised the needle dagger and—

  There was a sudden, violent pounding at the door, so loud that both Karia and Lando jerked back in surprise. The door annunciator bonged loudly, over and over, and the pounding on the door redoubled.

  “Hold it!” Luke said, his hand suddenly close to his lightsaber. Whatever that was at the door might provide a way to stall. He reached out with his Force power and found that he could not sense a living mind there. A droid then, of some sort.

  Whatever. It didn’t matter. It might be nothing more than the grocer’s droid demanding that Karia pay her bill, but Luke didn’t care. It bought him time, and he was going to use it. “The ceremony stops!” he said. “I don’t know who or what that is at the door, but the ceremony stops until we find out. Neither of you move.”

  Karia seemed about to protest, but Luke could see her eyes move toward his lightsaber. She nodded agreement and kept silent. Lando nodded as well. “Go,” he said.

  Luke turned around and hurried toward the door. He unclipped his lightsaber, just to be on the safe side. He threw back the bolt and pulled the door open—and was astonished to find Threepio rushing into the house.

  “Threepio! What in space are you—”

  “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Threepio cried out as he burst into the room. He stepped inside, paused a moment as he looked around, and then spotted Lando and Karia under the canopy. He hurried toward them, gesticulating frantically. Luke followed behind the droid, utterly baffled.

  “Go no further, Captain Calrissian!” Threepio shouted. “Stop! Stop!”

  “What are you talking about?” Lando said. “Threepio, this is no time for you to barge in. When you made that racket at the door, I thought you were going to be someone important. Now get out of here.”

  “But you must stop, I tell you!” Threepio turned toward Luke. “Master Luke, please tell me. Have they gotten to the ceremony of the blood kiss yet?”

  “No. They were just about to do it,” Luke said.

  “Then thank heavens I am in time. You must stop, Captain Calrissian. The woman is a life-witch!”

  “She’s a what?” Lando asked.

  “A life-witch!” Threepio said, pointed at Karia. “The honorific ‘Ver’ before her last name signifies that she is a life-witch.”

  “That is a term that I do not like to hear,” said Karia. “We call ourselves life-bearers, for that is truly what we do.” She looked at Lando. “But did you not know? Were you not aware? How could you seek me out and not know?”

  “What’s a life-witch?” Lando asked. “And are you one?”

  “I am a life-bearer,” Karia said.

  “Call it by whatever name you wish,” said the droid, in tones that were even more frantic than usual. “But it is true. True! We checked the records before we came over here, Artoo and I. He’d be in here showing them to you, but he’s having trouble getting up the steps.” Threepio turned toward Karia. “Go ahead,” he said. “Tell them. We have the records. Tell them how many times you have been married.”

  “It is my gift, the gift of the life-bearers,” Karia said, ignoring Threepio and addressing Lando with an unnerving calm. “We are found only here, on this world, born now and again by random chance. Even here we are rare. Ours is a special gift and skill. By linking close, we can keep the old, the sick, the dying, alive for a time. The blood kiss bonds my body chemistry to my husband’s. I can link to his life essence, and so sustain him. The sick and the dying are relieved of pain, and can live, for a time, in vigor and health. That is the Support I spoke of. But we cannot provide Support forever. We can hold back pain, and forestall death, but only for a time. Then we must withdraw Support, or die ourselves. And a life force that has come to rely on Support cannot long survive on its own. It dies.”

  “You mean after five years of Supporting me—”

  “I would withdraw Support and you would die,” Karia said. “I thought that you knew this.” She shrugged. “You would not be the first young and healthy man to exchange a long and uncertain life for a short one of comfort and security. And no, before you can ask, no, I could not marry without providing Support. We must have a time of recovery between husbands, but our life forces are likewise shaped by what we do. A life-bearer who does not provide Support for a time will soon sicken and die.”

  Lando opened his mouth and shut it again.

  “Your friend Chantu Solk was a more typical case. When he came to me, he had but a few months to live, months of pain and failing health. I gave him three years of health and comfort and companionship, and in return I became his heir, taking on his wealth only when he had no further use for it. Does that not seem a fair exchange?”

  Lando looked back and forth from Karia to Threepio and back to Karia before he found his voice again and managed to gasp out a single, strangled question. “How many husbands?” he asked.

  She drew herself up to her full height, folded her arms, and spoke with a calm, low dignity. “I shall conceal nothing,” she said. “The life-bearer can bear no children of her own. We are sterile. But our compensation is long life, and time enough to do our work. I have had the honor to survive forty-nine husbands thus far.”

  “Forty-nine husbands?” Lando repeated in horrified astonishment.

  Luke looked at Karia, amazed. How old was this woman? Was she a woman, a human, at all?

  Karia Ver Seryan turned to Lando and smiled. “But all this I thought you knew. In my eyes, and heart, nothing has changed. I shall have you if you shall have me. All that remains is the kiss of joining, the touch of my blood mingled with yours. Yes, there have been forty-nine. But should you still wish to undergo the ceremony, and the marriage, it shall be your happy death, five years from today, that will bring it to an even fifty.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Showtime

  Something was happening to Star Number TD-10036-EM-1271, something that went against all experience, all patterns of stellar mechanics. Strange forces reached out for it, huge and unseen hands manipulated its interior, forcing the internal heat and pressure up to levels that such a star never experienced.

  The surface of TD-10036-EM-1271 began to roil more and more violently. Powerful seismic waves started to pulse through the supercompressed matter at the star’s core. Its outer layers began to expand as a result of the increased heat and pressure. It changed in color from yellow to white to blue-white to pulsating blue-white glaring up into the ultraviolet—

  And then, quite impossibly, TD-10036-EM-1271 exploded.

  The Shockwave shell of energy rushed out into space in all directions, an incredible blast of light and heat that would be plainly visible to the naked eye
from a half-dozen inhabited systems—once the light from the explosion reached those stars, years or decades later.

  But the event did not go unobserved. By something more than chance, an automated probe droid was on hand to witness the explosion. It carefully recorded every detail of the supernova, noting the time, the place, and making a scan of the background stars to confirm the coordinates. Then it powered down its detection systems and switched on its navicomputer. It headed out of the TD-10036-EM-1271 system, out toward where it could safely drop into hyperspace. It dropped out of normal space, and rushed into the dark between the stars. It had an appointment to keep.

  An appointment on Corellia.

  * * *

  Han Solo had gone to sleep happy indeed. After tucking the children in, he had gone to be by himself and shut his own eyes, thinking nostalgic thoughts about his old homeworld. He had felt full of love and pride in his children, felt glad that everyone was safe and secure aboard the good old Millennium Falcon.

  But all that good feeling vanished as he slept. Han was tormented by dreams that night, fearsome dreams of all the most nightmarish moments of his old adventures, the monsters that had tried to kill him or eat him, the crash landing he should not have survived, the deadly traps he had been caught in and, by all rights, should not have escaped. Han was not the sort of person who had nightmares very often, but when he did have them, they struck hard, and deep—and the dangers he had faced in real life were ample fodder for a lifetime of bad dreams.

  But the real dangers he had faced in the past paled in comparison with the imaginary terror Han faced in his dreams that night. Again and again, he found himself trapped in the same few horrifying moments. A something, a faceless, secret, hidden, deadly something was stalking Han and his family, tracking them across a lurid, distorted jungle landscape full of the shrieks and cries of the hunter and the hunted, the air pungent with the stench of dead things putrefying in the steambath heat. But even as the heat and the stench and the sound hit Han smack in the face, he would find himself suddenly running, running for his life, his family just ahead of him, Chewie just behind. The children were screaming in terror as they fled, and Leia was in the lead, slashing a path through the vegetation with her lightsaber.

 

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