Hard Merchandise

by K. W. Jeter

  "The Vendetta is just now docking with us." As though to confirm Balancesheet's statement, a shudder ran through the rough structure around them; some­ where in the distance, the sleek mass of Prince Xizor's flagship was linking up with the larger subnodes that al­ lowed visitors to transfer over. "I have been in communi­cation with Xizor," said Balancesheet, perched on Kud'ar Mub'at's raised forelimb. "He informs me that he is greatly looking forward to our meeting."

  "I imagine ... he is ..." Kud'ar Mub'at's other limbs twitched and its lipless smile widened. "All creatures of business . . . relish the successful conclusion ... of a project..."

  "Then he and I have something in common." Boba Fett gave a quick nod. "Let's get this over with." He took his boot from between Trhin Voss'on't's shoulder blades and strode over to the mouth of the corridor leading to the docking area. From its holster, he drew out his blaster pistol.

  Head still tilted to one side, Kud'ar Mub'at looked at him with alarm. "What... are you doing ..." In front of the assembler, Voss'on't managed to scrabble into a silting position, also watching Boba Fett. "This is... not necessary..."

  "I'll tell you what's necessary and what's not." Care­fully and slowly, Boba Fett pointed the blaster's muzzle

  at Kud'ar Mub'at and Voss'on't in turn. "If you both want to live a little longer, you'll stay quiet." He raised the blaster up by the side of his helmet. "And not spoil this little surprise for Prince Xizor."

  The footsteps against the web's resilient tangle of fibers, from several creatures coming down the corridor, were already audible. Boba Fett flattened himself against the side of the opening, blaster at the ready.

  "Watch out—"

  He had known that Voss'on't would try to warn Xizor as soon as the Falleen prince appeared. A quick bolt from the blaster pistol, hitting Voss'on't in the shoulder and knocking him back against the base of Kud'ar Mub'at's nest, served both to silence him and distract Xizor's at­ tention. That gave Boba Fett the microsecond he needed to get an arm around Xizor's throat and put the muzzle of the blaster against his head.

  "Tell your men to back off." Boba Fett used Xizor as a shield, putting the Falleen between himself and the two Black Sun guards that had been just behind in the web's corridor. "I want their blasters on the floor—now."

  Xizor seemed more amused than surprised by what had happened. "Very well," he said calmly. "Do as the bounty hunter says." The two scowling guards lowered the blaster pistols they had so quickly unholstered, then tossed them into the center of the space. "You know—" Xizor turned his head, looking back at Boba Fett. "The guards are only a formality. I could kill you in a second. And I'd hardly have to move at all."

  "You don't have a second." Boba Fett kept the blaster aimed straight at the prince's skull. "If you want to test your speed against mine, go ahead. But right now you've got a lot more to lose than I do."

  "True enough," replied Xizor almost cordially, but still maintaining his haughty nobility. "I regret having backed you into this corner, Boba Fett. Desperate crea­ tures seek desperate remedies for their situations. Which is a shame in this case, as you and I have more interests in common than you might otherwise suspect."

  The Falleen prince's smooth words didn't impress Fett. With a shove against Xizor's back, Boba Fett pushed him toward Kud'ar Mub'at and the stormtrooper still bound hand and foot on the central space's floor. Boba Fett took a step backward, to where his blaster pistol had an angle on the others, including the two Black Sun guards at the mouth of the corridor.

  "There's no need for that." Prince Xizor's cold half smile almost made it seem as if he were somehow in charge of the situation. "We can discuss these business dealings like civilized creatures. Here—" He gestured in command toward the two guards. "Return to the Ven­ detta. Your presence is no longer necessary here."

  "But—" one of the guards protested.

  "Your presence was hardly of any value before; why should it be now?" Xizor repeated the gesture. "Go. Leave us." As the Black Sun guards turned and disap­peared down the corridor, Xizor spread his empty hands apart. "You see, Fett? I intend you no harm. Quite the contrary, in fact. You are a valuable entity to me."

  "Difficult to believe. "Boba Fett didn't lower the blaster pistol in his hand. "Given that you were so recently trying to blast me into atoms with your ship's laser cannons."

  "A misunderstanding," said Xizor soothingly. "These things sometimes happen in the course of business. Just as it sometimes happens that a person such as myself might change his mind about what needs to be done. And who needs to be eliminated."

  "Glad to hear it," said Fett. "But I don't buy it."

  "You have a right to be skeptical. I'm sure our mutual friend and associate here has been telling you some inter­ esting things. Information that might not reflect too well upon me ..."

  "My most esteemed ... Prince Xizor ..." The arach­ noid assembler's forelimbs quivered. "You mistake . . . my intentions..." Kud'ar Mub'at's words stumbled out, as though the Falleen were holding the blaster on him. "I would never..."

  "Don't waste our time," Xizor said coldly. "There are

  matters that you need to be informed of as well, Kud'ar Mub'at." The edge of anger in Prince Xizor's voice made his attitude of command even more apparent. "You de­ceive yourself if you assume that I have any continued need for your services."

  "But..."

  "Silence!"

  Boba Fett broke into the exchange between the two other creatures. "I'll say when anybody should talk or not." He aimed the blaster pistol straight toward Xizor. "All right?"

  Xizor gave a thin smile and a nod. "As you wish. For now."

  "The assembler said you were behind the plot to break up the old Bounty Hunters Guild. Is that true?"

  "Does it matter?" Xizor looked at him almost pity­ ingly. "If there was something that I wished to achieve through destroying the Guild—and I'll admit there was— that doesn't negate its value for you. Let's face it: many times, in its own crude, bumbling way, the Bounty Hunt­ers Guild got in your way. As an organization it was a ri­ val for those very same pieces of hard merchandise that you wished to procure for their bounties. Now the Guild is no more, and you face any other bounty hunter as an individual, on his own, without anyone to back him up. Thus your work is made that much easier and more prof­ itable." Xizor's cruelly smiling gaze seemed to penetrate the visor of Boba Fett's helmet. "So what is there for you to complain of?"

  "Being taken for a fool. That's what." Boba Fett used the blaster pistol in his hand to point toward Kud'ar Mub'at. "If there was something you wanted done—by me—then that's who you should've come to. Instead of bringing in a go-between like this."

  "Perhaps you're right." Xizor gave a judicious nod. "Perhaps I underestimated you, bounty hunter. There might be even more in common between us than I at first suspected. I'll remember that—for our future business dealings."

  "Assuming you have a future." The blaster pistol swung back toward the Falleen. "I haven't decided about that," said Boba Fett. "If I wasn't in the loop on this little scheme of yours, there must've been a reason. The same reason that you had your ship's laser cannons fire on Slave I as soon as I came out of hyperspace. You didn't want me to still be alive after all your plotting and scheming was finished." Fett raised the blaster higher, sighting down the length of its barrel toward Xizor. "Why is that?"

  "Do you want the truth?" Xizor shrugged. "You're a dangerous individual, bounty hunter. You have a habit of coming out on top, no matter what kind of situation you find yourself in. That can be inconvenient for other creatures. And very inconvenient for Black Sun. We're engaged in our own war with the Empire, regardless of whether that fool Palpatine knows who is on his side and who isn't. But I intend to win that war, bounty hunter, no matter what." The Falleen's voice hardened. "The situation has already been complicated by this doomed Rebellion, even though it's to Black Sun's advantage that the Emperor's attention is diverted by it." Xizor slowly shook his head. "But there can on
ly be one win­ner at this game, however many players are sitting at the board."

  "And you thought it would be better for you—and for Black Sun—if there was one less."

  "Precisely," said Xizor. "I admire the precision of your analysis. And you can believe this, if nothing else that I tell you. If I had continued to want you dead, now that you've accomplished the job I had for you—the real one, that of smashing the Bounty Hunters Guild—then all your vaunted survival skills would have done you no good at all. Crashing into the web here was a clever move, but it was the only one left to you. How much time do you think it would have bought you if I hadn't changed my mind about the desirability of your death?" The cor­ner of Xizor's mouth curled into a sneer. "The life of some scheming assembler and his assortment of scuttling

  little subnodes wouldn't have stopped me from turning my laser cannons on this web and blowing it into tat­ tered shreds drifting in space."

  "Wuh-what..." Xizor's words brought a startled re­action from Kud'ar Mub'at. Even in its crippled condi­ tion, it managed to draw itself up higher in the flaccid nest. "You can't. . . mean that..." Then the assembler visibly relaxed, even managing a smile of relief. "Of course ... you're only joking, my dear Xizor ... if that were true . . . then you would have gone ahead . . . and destroyed my humble . .. abode ..." The narrow trian­ gular head shook back and forth. "But... you didn't..."

  "I didn't refrain from blowing away this floating garbage pile because of any concern for you." Xizor turned his head to give the assembler a cold merciless gaze. "Your value to me has long been marginal, Kud'ar Mub'at. And now it's zero."

  A hissing shriek sounded from the assembler; its fore-limbs flailed in rage. "You think so... do you, Xizor..." Rage was enough to bring the larger compound eyes into focus. "After all ... I've done for you ..." Kud'ar Mub'at's head shook back and forth. "And all ... I con­ tinue to do ... for you and Black Sun ..." One claw tip trembled as it pointed at Xizor. "You survive ... only as long ... as your affairs remain secret..." With the same claw, the assembler pointed at itself. "I am the one . . . who keeps those secrets for you ... I am the one ... who acts as your go-between... everywhere in the galaxy..." The narrow face contorted with withering anger. "How will you keep Palpatine in the dark ... without me ... to do your dirty work for you ..."

  "Simple enough," replied Xizor evenly. "I have an­ other business associate who will take your place. One who has all your contacts, all your connections; one who knows your business better than you do."

  "Impossible!" All of Kud'ar Mub'at's spidery limbs thrashed the stale air in the chamber. The accountant subnode called Balancesheet had already scurried onto the nearest wall for safety. "There is .... no such crea-

  ture ..." The assembler's reedy voice spiraled into a high-pitched, fragmented scream. "Anywhere ... in the galaxy..."

  With the blaster pistol still covering the others before him, Boba Fett watched the small drama play out be­ tween the Falleen prince and the arachnoid assembler. He already had an idea what the final act was going to be.

  One of Prince Xizor's hands reached out, languid and graceful, yet possessed of untrembling power. He held his open palm upward, and the subnode Balancesheet scuttled onto it. The miniature version of its parent turned around in the small space and set its multilensed gaze upon Kud'ar Mub'at.

  "You old fool."

  The subnode's words were no longer spoken in the tone, both efficient and obsequious, that it had always used before. Now its voice was both deeper and touched with a newly won authority. To Boba Fett's eyes, the subnode even appeared slightly larger than before, as though it were already literally expanding into its new role in life. Perched on Xizor's hand, Balancesheet raised its own forelimbs in a expansive gesture.

  "Things will be very different now," said Balance- sheet. Its brilliant glittering eyes glanced over at Boba Fett. "For many of us. And yet, in certain ways, things will remain exactly the same. There will be a member of our unique species, an arachnoid assembler, at the center of a vast, invisible web spanning the galaxy." The little subnode's voice rose in volume and pitch. "Arranging delicate matters, pulling strings, putting one creature in contact with another—all those delicate items of busi­ ness that one of our breed is capable of doing so well. But there can only be one web like that, and only one assem­ bler listening to and making those little tugs upon its strands. And that assembler's name will no longer be Kud'ar Mub'at. You've had a long time at the center, time in which you've grown old and fat and stupid. But that time is done now."

  At the base of Kud'ar Mub'at's nest, the stormtrooper

  Voss'on't looked up at the small creature perched on the Falleen's hand. The grimace on Voss'on't's face spelled both repugnance and incomprehension. It was obvious that he wasn't sure what was going on, but had figured out that it wasn't going to do him any good.

  "An excellent demonstration, don't you think?" Prince Xizor smiled cruelly as he held his new business associate up at his own eye level. "That a powerful entity may be housed within an unimposing physical form. It should serve as a reminder to all of us that appearances can be deceiving."

  Boba Fett watched as the larger assembler twitched and shook uncontrollably in its nest. The revelation had struck Kud'ar Mub'at dumbfounded. Its lipless mouth hung open, gaping at its own creation, now completely independent—and triumphant.

  "Such a thing . . . cannot be ..." The trembling in Kud'ar Mub'at's limbs grew even more pronounced and erratic, as though it were trying to reassert its will over the mutinous Balancesheet. "I ... I made you!"

  "And if you had not been so blind," replied Balance- sheet, "and besotted with your own cleverness, you would have been able to detect that I was no longer merely an extention of your own neurosystem." In one of its fore-limb claws, Balancesheet held up the thin, pallid strand that had once linked it to the living web around it. The broken end dangled from the former subnode's grip, a few centimeters from the palm that held Balancesheet aloft. "I was free from you even before Boba Fett's ship crashed into the web."

  Like a broken thing, Kud'ar Mub'at shrank back down into its nest. "I... had... no idea ..." The spidery limbs folded around its abdomen, as though trying to preserve the fading warmth of life. "I trusted you ... I needed you..."

  "That was your mistake," said Balancesheet coldly. "And your last one."

  Prince Xizor extended his hand toward the chamber's curved wall; Balancesheet scuttled from his palm and

  onto the densely tangled structural fibers. "I'm afraid," said Xizor, "that the business relationship between us is over now, Kud'ar Mub'at." The edges of Xizor's cape swung forward as he folded his massive arms across his chest. "While Black Sun still has need of a go-between for certain delicate matters where we wish to keep our own participation as secret as possible, what we don't need is an associate who has grown either too compla­ cent or too senile to notice this small rebellion taking place under its own nose. You've already lost a war, Kud'ar Mub'at, that you didn't even know was being fought. Black Sun can't afford to be sentimental about what you've done for us in the past; we have to go with the winner."

  Kud'ar Mub'at's voice wavered with fear. "What. . . what are you going... to do?"

  "You'll find out soon enough."

  "Nobody's finding out anything," said Boba Fett. He had listened to the exchange between the Falleen prince and the arachnoid assembler with mounting impatience. The blaster pistol rose in his hand once more, reasserting its hold on the others' attention. "That is," he continued, "until my business is taken care of."

  "Of course." Xizor gave a nod of acknowledgment. "But you see, bounty hunter—this is your business. My new associate Balancesheet was the one who convinced me that you should be allowed to go on living. And that was after I had already decided that you should be killed." An indulgent though still cruel smile showed on Xizor's face. "You're a fortunate creature. Many in Black Sun will testify that it's a rare occasion when I change my mind."

  "T
hen why did you?"

  From its perch on the chamber wall, Balancesheet an­ swered. "My analysis was that you're worth more to me alive than dead, Boba Fett. With the old Bounty Hunters Guild now dismantled, there's no one in your chosen profession with your resources and skills. Black Sun—as well as the other clients whose accounts I've inherited—

  will still have need of an effective bounty hunter such as yourself. The consideration that had prompted Prince Xizor's previous decision to kill you was based upon see­ ing the need to reduce the number of creatures who were aware—or who might become aware—that he and Black Sun had been behind the anti-Guild operation from the beginning." The former subnode spoke as matter-of- factly as if it had been adding up a long column of num­bers in its head. "But as I pointed out to Xizor—we were having our discussion via comm unit the whole time you were talking here—getting rid of Kud'ar Mub'at accom­plishes the same thing, and more. Not only do we elimi­ nate the weakest link in the chain—after all, an assembler buys and sells information all the time—but we also leave a more valuable business associate alive. One that would owe us a favor as well."