Dangerous Games (9781484719756)

by Watson, Jude

  When Dering raced out an exit from the quarters and into the street, Obi-Wan was merely steps away. Suddenly, a fast-moving airspeeder headed straight for Dering. Obi-Wan reached out, ready to grab the waving hem of the man’s tunic, but the speeder struck the slight man first, sending him flying through the air. Aarno Dering landed with a sickening thud.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Go to him,” Obi-Wan ordered Anakin tersely.

  Obi-Wan jumped after the speeder. Landing on the speeder’s outrigger component, Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and severed it with one stroke. The speeder veered and crashed into a bright yellow bench, and the pilot leaped out. Obi-Wan recognized him instantly as the pilot of the air taxi. Something about the way he held his body alerted him. His movements were quick and powerful, but loose and graceful as well.

  The pilot leaped over the speeder and raced down the street. Without breaking stride, he shot a cable launcher up to the roof of a high building. The cable launcher pulled him up and he disappeared onto the roof.

  Obi-Wan activated his own launcher and followed, the wind rushing past his ears. He jumped onto the roof just as the pilot leaped to the next building. Obi-Wan followed.

  The pilot never looked back. Obi-Wan noted his coolness. There were not many, being pursued, who did not pause to check on the location of their pursuer. Obi-Wan was gaining and the pilot seemed to know it, for his pace quickened as he leaped to the next roof. It was twenty meters below, but he landed easily and kept on running. Obi-Wan summoned the Force for his jump and landed.

  The pilot raced to the edge of the roof that overlooked the street. Obi-Wan could hear the noise of a crowd and as he drew closer he saw that a stadium below was emptying. Air taxis were lined up awaiting passengers. The pilot paused and activated his anti-grav propulsion belt. It allowed him to drop off the roof and land safely on the walkway below.

  Obi-Wan leaped down and had to swerve at the last moment to avoid a child who suddenly darted out from between her mother and father. He landed hard. He was just in time to see the pilot get swallowed up by the surging crowd.

  Irritation flamed and died away. He would have liked to have caught the pilot. It did not happen. On to the next.

  He made his way back to the quarters. Anakin knelt by Aarno Dering, his hand on the man’s shoulder. Obi-Wan knew immediately that he was dead.

  He walked to Anakin and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. They stood for a moment, a linked chain of commemoration. A Jedi always paused to reflect on a life lost, even if they did not know the spirit who had left.

  “There was nothing I could do.” Anakin’s face was pale. He had seen death before, but he was still affected by it. Obi-Wan was glad to see this. He hoped Anakin would never lose that particular vulnerability. There had been a time when he had wondered if Anakin failed to connect, a time when he had seen a curious blankness on the boy’s face after he had killed in battle. Since that time, Obi-Wan had watched Anakin carefully. When he saw his Padawan feel the enormity of a life lost, he was reassured.

  A security speeder pulled up, its signal lights flashing. Close behind was the sleek black airspeeder of Liviani Sarno. When she jumped out, it was clear she was livid.

  “First an air-taxi driver is badly beaten, and now this,” she snapped, standing over the body of Aarno Dering. “How will you explain this to the Council?”

  Anakin flushed with anger, and Obi-Wan’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Liviani Sarno’s words had offended Obi-Wan as well. She treated the death of a fellow being as a nasty inconvenience.

  “Obviously the Jedi cannot fulfill their promises,” Liviani continued.

  “The Jedi promised nothing except our presence,” Obi-Wan said.

  Her lips pressed together. “In that case, I am calling for extra security.”

  “That is a good idea,” Obi-Wan answered. He was nettled at her tone, but extra security was not a bad idea. He didn’t want to reveal his suspicions to Liviani yet. Officials had a tendency to get in the way. Obi-Wan wanted to make sure of what he was dealing with first.

  Liviani turned to confer with a security officer. “I suggest you find an event to attend,” she said over her shoulder to the Jedi. “Just stand around and do nothing. If you can manage that much.”

  Obi-Wan strode away. Anakin let out a long breath.

  “I have more things to learn about patience,” he said. “I don’t know how you keep your temper sometimes, Master.”

  “Indulging momentary irritation is nothing more than a distraction,” Obi-Wan answered. “Liviani is worried that if disruptions occur it will reflect badly on her. We have more important things to do. When Aarno Dering left his room, did you notice anything significant?”

  He watched as his Padawan frowned, thinking. Then Anakin’s face brightened.

  “He was just sliding his datapad into his tunic with his left hand. He dropped it when he saw us. It fell in the doorway and the door did not shut.”

  “Exactly,” Obi-Wan said. “I think we might want to take a peek into the life of Aarno Dering.”

  They passed through the security gate again and quickly made their way to Dering’s room. It was only a matter of time before the security officers arrived. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how cooperative they would be with the Jedi.

  The datapad lay in the doorway. Obi-Wan handed it to Anakin and reached down for a small folder that had been dropped as well. In it was a text doc ID for someone named Ak Duranc.

  “It’s a false text doc for Aarno Dering,” he told Anakin. “Often new identities use the same initials as the being’s real name. It helps them to remember their new identity.”

  “But what does it mean?” Anakin asked. “Why would Dering want a new identity?”

  “There’s only one reason,” Obi-Wan said. “He was afraid he would get caught. The question is why.” He tapped the text doc thoughtfully against his leg. “Beings don’t go to this much trouble without cause. He was afraid. But of what?”

  Obi-Wan surveyed the room. It was small and neat. Everything was put away. A closed travel pack sat on a table. Two chronos sat by the sleep couch. Obi-Wan picked them up.

  “They are set to wake him up,” he said. “He used two so that he would not oversleep.” He placed them back where he’d found them. “Interesting. A chrono expert who does not trust chronos.”

  “Master, look at this.” Anakin bent over a holofile. “He didn’t code any of his files.”

  “He was worried enough to get a new identity, but he didn’t have time to code his files,” Obi-Wan mused. “That meant he was once confident that he wouldn’t get caught.”

  “He’s noted the events that he’s set up the timing system for. The bowcaster skill contest and holographic obstacle course are the only ones left. But Master…” Anakin looked up. “The Podrace is here, too.”

  Obi-Wan came over and studied the file. “So. Whoever is behind fixing the games could be fixing the Podrace, too.”

  Anakin tapped the datapad. “This means that Doby and Deland don’t stand a chance. The winner has already been chosen.”

  “Possibly. We don’t know anything for sure yet.”

  “What I don’t understand is how a Podrace can be fixed,” Anakin continued. “It’s not like an obstacle swoop race, where individual segments are timed. Whoever crosses the finish line first wins. You can’t guarantee that someone won’t crack up or crash. I wouldn’t take the bet, even if someone told me the race was fixed.”

  Obi-Wan nodded. “I see what you mean. But it can’t be a coincidence that the corrupt timing judge has agreed to time the race.” He stared at the neat belongings of Aarno Dering while he considered their next step. He knew it was inevitable, but he didn’t like it. He would have to send Anakin back to the Podracers.

  “This could be a larger-scale operation than I thought,” he said aloud. “No doubt Fligh didn’t tell us everything. And no doubt there are parts to this that even Fligh doesn’t know. I will contact Siri and Ry-Gaul
to see if they have discovered anything. Anakin, you must go back to the Podracers.” Obi-Wan did not like the way Anakin’s face brightened at this. “You have made friends with Doby and Deland. See if they know how the race could be fixed and if there is heavy betting going on.”

  “And what will you do, Master?”

  “I’m going to work from the opposite end. If we want to find out who is fixing the events, we have to find out who benefits. That means that someone, or a group of beings, are placing bets on the outcome.”

  “But how can you discover who that is?”

  “I have to reacquaint myself with Uso Yso.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Anakin piloted Doby and Deland’s speeder back to the Podrace hangar, leaving Obi-Wan as he checked in with Siri and Ry-Gaul to see if other complications had sprung up. Anakin was glad that the investigation had allowed him to return. He already felt that Doby and Deland were friends. He’d made a promise to them, and he intended to keep it. The best part was that he could do this and still follow Obi-Wan’s instructions. Working on their Podracer would be the perfect cover for him to keep his eyes and ears open.

  But if he were honest with himself, Anakin had to admit that it wasn’t just his promise and the mission that drove him back to the Podracer. It was how good it felt to be here. Here he did not have to worry if he was good enough. He did not need to question himself. All he had to do was make something go very, very fast.

  He saw Doby and Deland working on the engine as he parked the speeder and hurried over. Deland raised a grease-stained face. “Am I glad to see you! We have a rotor problem we can’t seem to fix.”

  “Let me have a look.” Anakin leaned over the engine. “This could be a connector problem. Let me take a look at the valves. Hand me that hydrospanner, will you?”

  Anakin took the hydrospanner from Doby and bent over the engine. “Have you run the track in a speeder yet?” he asked. “An advance look is always a good idea.” The more information he got about the race, the easier it would be to figure out how it was fixed.

  “Can’t,” Doby said. “The Podracers won’t know the track until they’re racing.”

  Anakin looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “The onboard nav computer will flash us the next area of the track every three minutes,” Deland explained. “We have to race and navigate at the same time. It’s a new innovation that Sebulba dreamed up.”

  “He knows Hekula can do it, with his reflexes,” Doby said. “Plus they have such a maneuverable Podracer. The rest of us have had to reconfigure a bit, but it sure does make the race more exciting.”

  Anakin tinkered with the valves. Could this be the key to how the race was fixed? What if Sebulba’s Podracer got the track information before anyone else? That would definitely give Hekula an edge.

  “Who sends the route to the onboard computers?” he asked.

  “The official timekeeper set up the program,” Doby said. “Don’t know his name.”

  But I do. It’s Aarno Dering. And Aarno Dering is dead. Someone else will have to run the program. But who?

  “Who’s the favorite?” Anakin asked. “How are the odds running?”

  “Ten to one for Hekula,” Deland said. “Rumor has it that Sebulba has bet a fortune on his son.”

  Of course he has. He knows Hekula will win.

  Anakin glanced over the hood of the Podracer to where Sebulba was sitting, sipping tea while the pit droids worked on Hekula’s Podracer. Sebulba looked over and met his eyes. Something happened behind the creature’s bulging eyes. Memory clicked in.

  He rose, his front arms waving, and approached. “Now I recognize you, slave boy. All you needed was a little grease on your face.” He laughed. “What an unfortunate surprise. I thought you were dead.”

  “Not yet, Sebulba,” Anakin shot back. “I’m here to make sure your son loses the way you did back on Tatooine. Badly.”

  “Luck was on your side that day, slave boy,” Sebulba hissed. “You are just a human, slow and clumsy as a bantha. I should have killed you then.”

  “You tried,” Anakin said coolly. “But you failed. Failure seems to be your destiny.”

  “Insolent boy!” Sebulba hissed, raising his hand for a blow. Anakin had no doubt that his blow would still be powerful enough to send him flying.

  But he was a Jedi now. Sebulba’s arm moved so fast it was a blur, but to Anakin it looked like slow-motion. He easily stepped aside in time. The wind fanned against his face. Sebulba staggered, his balance upset. He had expected to land the punch.

  “You can’t touch me,” Anakin said. He whispered the words, close enough now to smell Sebulba’s rank scent. “You were never fast enough. You still aren’t.”

  “Slave boy!” Sebulba went toward him again. This time Anakin whirled and delivered a kick that sent Sebulba flying.

  Enraged, Sebulba started toward a waiting Anakin, but suddenly the Glymphid Aldar Beedo stepped between them.

  “You’re disturbing my concentration,” he said to Anakin, tapping a blaster on his belt.

  “He’s a Jedi,” Doby whispered. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “All beings are the same once they’re dead,” Beedo said, his eyes cool.

  Anakin hesitated, not sure what to do. The situation now threatened to spiral out of control. Hekula was starting across to join in. If a fight began, others could be hurt, including Doby and Deland.

  “Master!” Suddenly Djulla appeared and tugged at Sebulba’s robe. “I have made fresh tea.”

  “So what?” Sebulba said furiously. “Get away from me, slave!”

  He struggled to kick Djulla aside with his hind legs while keeping his eyes on Anakin. Deland jumped forward to protect his sister. Sebulba’s kick connected and Deland flew through the air, smashing against the cliff face. He landed awkwardly on his arm with a cry.

  “Deland!” Djulla ran toward her brother. She knelt beside him. “You’re hurt!”

  “Get away from him!” Hekula suddenly roared, rushing forward. “You take orders from us! Get back to your post!”

  Djulla hesitated. Aldar Beedo shrugged and turned away, tucking his blaster back into his belt. “This is a family matter,” he said. “I have work to do.”

  Deland’s teeth gritted. “Go back,” he told his sister. “I am all right.”

  Hekula turned to Anakin. “If you keep insisting on making trouble, you’ll be sorry.”

  Anakin trembled with the effort of holding himself back. He thought of Obi-Wan’s coolness. He could not feel it, but he could imitate it. It was better to let this particular moment pass. He was not a slave boy, he was a Jedi. He could not pick a fight because two bullies deserved to be humiliated.

  Djulla hurried away. Doby helped his brother to his feet. Deland held his arm carefully.

  “Better get the medic, boy!” Sebulba called before scuttling back to his Podracer. “It looks like you won’t be able to pilot your Podracer.”

  “He’s right,” Deland said through gritted teeth. “It’s broken.”

  “What are we going to do?” Doby whispered. “This was our last chance. What can we do for Djulla now?”

  Anakin saw the desperation on the two brothers’ faces. Once again, he was faced with a choice. He had to make it for himself. He had to do the right thing and trust that Obi-Wan would understand.

  “I can pilot the Podracer,” he said. “If I win, your sister will go free.”

  “But that isn’t fair,” Doby said. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “Because it is the right thing to do,” Anakin said.

  He knew that from the bottom of his heart. But he still had to tell his Master.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Obi-Wan stood across the street from Uso Yso’s swoop shop. He had disguised himself as a space traveler, pulling on a dull gray cloak and a wrapped headdress. As he watched, a steady stream of visitors entered and left the shop. None of them left with a swoop. Apparently Yso was doing
a thriving business in taking illegal bets.

  Obi-Wan saw a short, plump figure suddenly dart across the street and head for Yso’s dark front door. He sprinted across the street to catch up.

  He yanked Didi back by the collar of his tunic. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. At least, nothing now, since you are holding my collar,” Didi said.

  “You said you were going to buy back Bog’s speeder,” Obi-Wan accused.

  “I tried! I did! But the cheating monkey-lizard I sold it to upped the price,” Didi told him. “I couldn’t afford to buy back my own speeder! I need to raise a little cash, so I thought I would sell Bog’s datapad and buy back his speeder instead.”

  Obi-Wan saw the datapad tucked under Didi’s arm. “Let me see that.”

  There was a chance that someone on the Games Council knew the events were rigged. This might be an easy way to find out. He quickly accessed the information on Bog’s system and flipped through random files. There didn’t seem to be anything amiss. One file was labeled WAYS TO ADVANCE. Obi-Wan accessed it and read through a list of instructions Bog had written to himself.

  BE FRIENDLY TO ALL!! THOSE WHO CANNOT HELP YOU TODAY CAN HELP YOU TOMORROW!!

  DO MENIAL TASKS FOR IMPORTANT BEINGS!! IT MAKES YOU INDISPENSABLE!!

  NEVER CONTRADICT A SUPERIOR!!

  FOLLOW THE POWER!!!!!!!

  “You see what I have to put up with?” Didi sighed. “My poor Astri.”

  Obi-Wan accessed another file marked GAMES COUNCIL RESPONSIBILITIES. He scanned the notes carefully. It appeared that Bog’s only job on the Games Council was arranging VIP seating. He had made lists matching Senators with exclusive gallery skyboxes for various events. So much for his importance.

  Obi-Wan shut down the datapad. He tucked it inside his tunic.

  “I was going to sell that!” Didi protested.

  “It’s not yours to sell. Didi, I know you won’t take my advice. But things just might be more complicated than you realize. I’d advise you to stay away from betting.”