Star Wars - The Adventures of Lando Calrissian 03 - The StarCave of ThonBoka

by L. Neil Smith

  “Too bad,” he continued. “This game is a whole lot faster and more interesting five-handed. If only Vuffi Raa...”

  “Each of us,” observed the Other, “sets his own course through the universe and must follow it where it takes us. This is called integrity, and to deviate-”

  “Come on, you five-legged clowns, cut the pop philosophy and play cards! You know how long it's been since I sat down,” Lando grinned.

  “And tried filling inside straights all night at a real table and-”

  “Long, Admiral? At that, it beats dodging bullets and destructor beams. I'm glad you decided to be on our side, and I'm especially glad you're a better fighter pilot than you are a sabacc player.”

  “I'm only warming up. Give me a chance, and I'll have your hide the easy way: payable in cash!”

  Laughter around the table. It was good to have the lounge full of visitors, the gambler thought; a real passenger lounge for a change.

  But some folks seemed to be missing from his life, missing from places they'd carved for themselves only recently. Or relatively recently.

  “Heard from Lehesu yet?” he asked, watching a Commander of Flasks change itself into a Three of Staves. He knew it was an electronic trick, but it never failed to give him goosebumps. Shanga was frowning, a sure sign he had a good hand, Lando had learned quickly. He kept his betting light.

  The fighter pilot shook his head, still frowning. “One of the boys said something about seeing a middle-sized Oswaft zooming off during the battle. Said something about a courier he wanted to catch up with. Is it true the spacepeople want to make him High Supreme Galootie or something?”

  A mechanical chuckle issued from the extensor representing the One. “It would seem they have decided that leadership - or at least wisdom - do not necessarily correlate positively with age. This is gratifying to me, as I am the youngest o my people... that is, I was before Vuffi Raa... er, I believe I shall take another card, gentle-beings.”

  Outside, far away across the StarCave, the actual repositories of the intelligence of the One, the Other, and the Rest lay, as it were, at anchor. They were gigantic fifty-kilometer starships, intergalactically self-propelled droids of ancient origin.

  Shanga changed the subject. “I never quite got who it was who built you folks originally - that is, if you don't mind me asking a religious question.”

  “Not at all,” the One replied. “They were a race of individuals who looked rather like these extensors. There are some among us who recall them, although I do not, except through cybernetically handed-down memories. They were not spacefarers; the idea simply didn't appeal to them. They were wiped out in a radiation storm when a nearby star went supernova. Only a few intelligent machines were left, and they were my ancestors. We did explore the stars, at least in our arm. There is a high incidence of unstable stars there, so that organic life is rare.”

  “Yes,” the Other concurred, “it was his idea to seek out organic life to liven up our own culture, and here we are.”

  Lando shook his head. He wished his little robot friend were there to see this hand; it was a lulu. “Yes, but first you sent out an explorer whose memories were suppressed and who could not act violently. That way he'd generate fresh impressions and not get your civilization into trouble with others unless it was absolutely necessary.”

  “Correct,” the One said. “And while the suppression worked, the conditioning did not. Self-preservation is a powerful motive, even though in the end - sabacc!”

  “Beginner's luck!” the professional gambler howled, wondering how much he'd lost this time. He heard footsteps behind him, turned and looked down the curving corridor toward the engine area. A figure stood there, covered with grease, a spanner in one of its hands. Its five-sided carapace was still scorched.

  “I got the deflectors readjusted, Master,” Vuffi Raa said. “Admiral Shanga's men are good shots, but that weakness won't show up again now!”

  “Fine. Now will you please stop being dutiful and join the game? And don't call me master in front of your old man, here, it's embarrassing.”

  Hours later, two days after the battle and departure of the fleet, Lando was dozing in his pilot's chair in the cockpit.

  Vuffi Raa was out somewhere, visiting his kinfolk.

  “Captainmasterlandocalrissiansir I have returned,” the ship-to-ship said.

  “Zzzzz - what? Lehesu! Why so formal all of a sudden and where the Core have you been?” The gambler had heard it suggested that the young Oswaft had run away from defending the ThonBoka. He didn't believe it for a moment, but he was curious.

  “Oh, just before your duel with Rokur Gepta, I heard him tell an officer - his helmet microphone was open, apparently - that he was sending a courier to have that person's family murdered should he disobey a rather ugly order. I hopped after him, but it took me a while to catch up.”

  Lando stretched, yawned, reached for a cigar. “Oh? What did you do then, ask him to stop politely?”

  “Why yes, and he did. In several pieces, I'm afraid: I shouted it at him.”

  The gambler chuckled. “So now you're home and going to be the Elder of all you survey, is that how it is?”

  There was a long pause. “No, not precisely. I told them I would not be their Elder and if they wanted my advice, they wouldn't appoint a new one. I don't think they listened to me. I wish neither to give nor receive orders - something I learned from you, Lando, my friend.”

  Lando scratched his head, a gesture he'd never had habitually until he'd picked it up from Vuffi Raa. “I'm glad to hear it. What are you going to do with yourself, then?”

  “Explore, discover the answers to questions. Probably get in trouble again. But tell me, I am very confused on one point. The Millennium Falcon is not really a person, is that correct? Nor the cruiser Wennis?”

  “The late, unlamented cruiser Wennis. I don't know what that life-destroying stuff was Gepta spewed around, but I'm glad it was destroyed with her. No, friend Lehesu, much as we may love her, the Falcon is a machine.” He puffed on his cigar, anticipating the Oswaft's next bewildered question. “And before you ask, yes, the One, the Other, and the Rest are indeed persons, of the mechanical persuasion. They think for themselves, the Falcon doesn't. In a sense, they are to you what Vuffi Raa is to me: you both live in free space; it's your natural environment. Vuffi Raa and I are arms-and-legs types, born and bred in a gravity well and most comfortable where there's light and heat and atmosphere.”

  “But Lando what is Vuffi Raa?”

  “A larval starship, if you believe him. The organic people who invented his ancestors looked like him, built machines that looked like him - the same idea as a humanoid robot. Today his people use 'extensors' – manipulators - that still look like him. If he's a good little bot and eats all his spinach, he'll grow up to be a starship, too. If he wants to.”

  Concern tinged the vacuum-breather's transmission. “I'm told that he was nearly killed while I was gone. I feel somewhat guilty for-”

  “Forget it, old jellyfish, his daddy repaired him in just a few hours. What counts is the memory, the experiences, the character, and they were all intact, protected in googolicate at the deepest levels of his being. No little blaster was going to do more than freeze him up mechanically.”

  “What will you do now, Lando?”

  “Well, I think it's time I gave up this wandering life, if only for a while. I need to do something responsible, own something, have some obligations. I'll think about it. I've learned a lot, and I have plenty to get started on. The Falcon's holds are full of gigantic gemstones - every variety I've ever seen or heard of, and a few I'm going to have to consult experts on. I could buy an entire city.”

  “And Vuffi Raa?”

  “I don't know, old manta, I don't know.”

  The Millennium Falcon's engines thrummed with pent up energy. She was eager to go back into intergalactic space, eager for another adventure. In her cockpit, Vuffi Raa was finishing up a lecture: “An
d be sure to back the engines off at least three percent when initiating the deflector shields, otherwise the surge will overload her, and-”

  “I know, I know, I know,” her captain replied patiently while trying to suppress tears. “The only thing I don't understand is why you're going back this very minute. Why can't you-”

  “Master, it is a bargain I have made. I would much prefer, like you and Lehesu, to continue exploring the universe, to have adventure and savor life. I will again, someday. But I was constructed for the purpose of recording those experiences and relaying them to my people. I feel the need to do this, as you feel the need to breathe. Do you understand, Master?”

  “I understand.” He patted the little droid's shiny torso. The rest of the blast damage had healed, and the robot looked as new and perfect as the day they'd met. “Well, if you ever get back to this arm of the galaxy, you know how to find me, don't you? I haven't much in the way of a permanent address.”

  There was an electronic chuckle. “I'll just go where there's the most trouble and noise, and there'll you be, Master.”

  “Not on your life! I'm going to settle down, be responsible. And Vuffi Raa?”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “Don't you think, now that you know exactly who and what you are, that you could stop calling me master?”

  “Why, I suppose so, Lando. Why didn't you ask me before?”