The Cold

by Lucasfilm Press

  But even in that disheveled condition, there was no mistaking his identity.

  Those hate-filled blue eyes.

  That cybernetic jaw.

  It was a face that she’d never forget, a face that haunted her nightmares. Captain Korda of the Imperial Navy. The man who had kidnapped her parents.

  “WELL?”

  Korda swore under his breath at the sound of RX-48’s shrill voice, somehow even more irritating over the comm-channel. He snatched the receiver from his belt and barked a reply.

  “Well what?”

  “Find anything?”

  A vein throbbed in Korda’s temple. RX-48’s insubordination was really beginning to grate. Not that long before, he would have had the pilot melted down for scrap, but now…

  He stalked toward the edge of the ragged hole.

  “You think it went through the ice?” RX-48 asked.

  “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  “There’s no need to snap! I was only making conversation!”

  “Well, don’t! Concentrate on watching the ice, instead of annoying me!”

  “Don’t you worry. The first sign of a crack and I’m off. I’ve made more emergency takeoffs than you’ve blasted rebels!”

  “And what about my escape?”

  “Hey, you can swim, can’t ya?”

  Ignoring the droid’s feeble attempt at humor, Korda approached the jagged hole in the surface. Nothing about this made sense. The sides of the breach were meters thick, easily strong enough to support a ship as small as the Whisper Bird. Why had it cracked the ice?

  Sudden movement on the horizon provided the answer. Korda looked up as a jet of hot water erupted into the air with a whoosh!

  “That’s it,” he said out loud. “Geysers beneath the ice. If the Whisper Bird landed on top of one…”

  “What was that?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you!” Korda said, shutting off the transmission before the droid could reply. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. This couldn’t be happening.

  He had lost the Whisper Bird again.

  Korda’s mind went back to the day when he had first received his orders from Darth Vader.

  Get me those maps, Commander. Wild Space belongs to the Empire.

  How simple had it sounded back then? Find the Grafs and return with their data. Lord Vader would reward him for a job well done. Who knew what other missions he’d be given, what glory awaited?

  Glory. The word tasted bitter on his tongue.

  Korda considered turning around and marching back to the ship. Perhaps he would take his anger out on that droid, teach the thing some respect.

  But then something caught his eye. He knelt, running gloved fingers across the ice. Yes, there were marks, tiny pinpricks left by ice grips! So at least one of the children had escaped the crash.

  He stood and followed the tracks. They were heading toward a rocky outcrop in the distance. Korda smiled. By the look of the indentations, the child had been running.

  Not fast enough.

  Korda pulled his field electrotelescope from his pocket. He put it to his eye, immediately picking out movement against the rocks. There! He zoomed in just as Lina Graf glanced over her shoulder.

  “Got you!”

  Korda hurried back to the Star Herald. Within minutes he was back on the flight deck, opening the weapon locker.

  “Going somewhere?” RX-48 asked.

  “The girl is hiding in nearby caves.”

  “Alone?”

  “There was only one set of tracks, but the droid may be with her.”

  “It can fly?”

  Korda checked his blaster, resisting the urge to take the pilot’s head off.

  “It hovers. Repulsorlift technology.”

  “Fancy!” RX-48 complained. “What I wouldn’t give for a repulsor, but no, I’m bolted to the floor while he floats around without a care in the world. Some droids have all the luck.”

  “Don’t worry,” Korda said, clicking two long rods together to make a force pike. “His luck is about to run out.”

  Korda twisted the shaft, igniting the energy lance at the tip.

  “And what should I do while you’re off having fun?” RX-48 asked.

  “Drop a probe into the water,” Korda replied, marching from the flight deck. “We need to find that ship, just in case the maps are still on board.”

  “Yes, oh, lord and master. Your wish is my command!”

  Korda ignored the droid’s sarcasm. He stomped down the ramp to the ice and took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs. Using the force pike as a staff, he strode purposefully toward the island.

  This was it. The final hunt!

  On board the Whisper Bird, Milo and CR-8R were hard at work. CR-8R had managed to pump most of the seawater from the ship, but they weren’t out of danger yet. The droid had insisted that Milo change out of his wet clothes, hovering around with blankets and heaters, but things had gone from bad to worse.

  Not long after the hatch was sealed, the Whisper Bird had come to rest on what Milo had assumed was the ocean bed. However, it soon became clear that they had farther to fall. They hadn’t reached the bottom at all but were perched on the edge of an underwater cliff. There was no way of telling how many fathoms of water lay beneath them. All Milo knew was that even the slightest movement sent the ship rocking. If the cliff face crumbled beneath their weight, all would be lost.

  Ideally, Milo and CR-8R should have tried to keep still, but that just wasn’t an option. The main power system was down, the Whisper Bird operating on emergency batteries alone. Life support was on minimal, the air already becoming stale, and they could barely see. Every light on the ship had fused, but Milo had found the crate of Founder’s Day lanterns in storage. Memories of the celebrations came flooding back, but this wasn’t the time to reminisce. Milo hung the lights from every hook and doorway, where they swayed gently as the ship tilted back and forth.

  Now Milo had another job. He was running around the ship patching up leaks with a can of quick-hardening foam. He wished there was something else he could do. If Lina had been trapped down there with CR-8R she would be up to her elbows in cables, trying to fix the Bird’s damaged systems. She had always been a tech head, while Milo was happier out in the natural world. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of plants and life-forms on a dozen worlds, none of which was any use right now.

  All he could do was plug holes, Morq hanging from his neck. The little monkey-lizard was terrified, and Milo couldn’t blame him.

  Suddenly, there was a crackle of energy from the direction of the cockpit.

  “Crater?”

  Milo sprinted through the ship, trying to ignore the shifting deck beneath his feet.

  “Crater, are you okay?”

  CR-8R was on his back on the cockpit floor, arms writhing in the air like the legs of a robotic crab.

  Milo bent down to help the droid up. “What happened?”

  Crater’s repulsors kicked in as soon as he was upright. “I was stupid, that’s what. Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

  The droid floated up to an exposed control panel. “I tried to bypass the power coupling.”

  “And that’s bad?” Milo asked, watching CR-8R work.

  “It is when you can’t reset the safety switches. Nothing on this ship is working.”

  “It is!” Milo argued, trying to look on the bright side. “We have life support.…”

  “Barely!”

  “And you said the shields are holding.”

  Almost as if it wanted to prove Milo wrong, the Whisper Bird’s hull groaned around them.

  CR-8R dropped back down to the floor. “For now. I had to divert all remaining power to the particle shield generators. If they fail, the Whisper Bird won’t be able to withstand the water pressure. We’ll be crushed like a tin can!”

  “That’s a comforting thought,” said Milo, his voice wavering as Morq cuddled in closer.

  CR-8R ignored him
and set about dismantling the computer console. “Even if I could get the propulsion system working, we don’t have enough power for the engines. We’re stuck here and there’s nothing I can do about it!”

  Milo had never seen CR-8R so angry. The droid was often irritable and frequently infuriating, but this…this was something else.

  “Crater, it’s all right.…” He reached out a hand to touch the robot’s arm, as if physical contact would somehow help a machine. CR-8R snatched the shiny limb away. When he spoke again, the frustration had gone from his artificial voice, leaving nothing but sadness.

  “It really isn’t, Master Milo. I was never programmed for any of this. Your parents activated me to assist in research, not keep you and your sister safe. Ask me a question about the thousands of worlds we’ve surveyed over the years and I’ll know the answer immediately. Ask me about looking after children, and I know nothing.”

  This time CR-8R let Milo squeeze his metal hand. “That’s not true. You’re doing a great job. Mom and Dad would be proud.”

  Something banged on the ceiling above them.

  Something outside the ship.

  “What was that?” Milo asked.

  There was another thump, louder this time.

  “Something’s out there,” Milo whispered, Morq trembling against his neck. “How long did you say the shields will last?”

  “I didn’t,” CR-8R admitted. “Sixty minutes? Maybe more?”

  Milo shot a glance at the canopy. The water on the other side was dark. There was no sign of movement.

  “Maybe you should take another shot at the propulsion system,” Milo suggested. “I’m going to try to contact Lina. Maybe I can boost the signal.”

  “Good idea,” CR-8R agreed, floating out of the cockpit. “Try not to think about sea monsters, or whatever that thing was.”

  “Thanks,” Milo said, activating the comlink. “I won’t!”

  LINA’S GLOWLAMP shook in her hand. The inside of the cave was pitch-black. Of course it was. She scolded herself for being surprised. What did she expect? It was cold, too, bitterly cold, even through her jacket.

  So she was freezing, could barely see where she was going, and had no idea what to do next.

  Way to go, Lina. Way to go.

  But what choice did she have? Korda was coming. The man who had taken everything from her. First Mom and Dad, then Dil Pexton. Now even the Whisper Bird and Milo were gone.

  She stopped herself. No, Milo wasn’t gone. He was just trapped. They’d see each other again soon; she was sure of it.

  She wasn’t going to let Korda win. Not this time.

  The cave narrowed into a tight passageway, barely wide enough for her shoulders. She considered turning back but forced herself on. If it was getting too tight a squeeze for a ten-year-old girl, a man the size of Korda would find it impossible.

  At least, that’s what she hoped.

  Maybe he’d get stuck. The idea made her grin. She imagined him scrabbling at the rock, that robotic jaw grinding in frustration. Ha! It would serve him right.

  Besides, she’d explored ice caves before. Dad had taken them potholing on Orto Plutonia when she was eight. Mom had stayed on the Whisper Bird with Milo while Dad taught Lina how to clamber through the tightest gap and scale sheer walls. Her parents were the best. How many eight-year-olds had been taught how to use ice picks?

  There was a noise from behind. Lina froze, listening intently. Something was in the cave with her. An animal? A keejin, or maybe a shyrack? She turned. Light was bouncing off the walls behind her. Not an animal then, unless it had a glowlamp of its own. It had to be Korda. She could hear his footsteps now, getting closer. They were slow, cautious. Korda was trying to keep quiet, to sneak up on her.

  She wasn’t about to let that happen.

  Lina pushed on, trying not to panic. The walls were pressing in, the floor becoming more treacherous with every step. Something caught her arm and she spun around, expecting to see Korda’s face leering out of the darkness.

  She let out a ragged breath. Her sleeve had just snagged on a rock.

  She pulled it free, the silver material ripping.

  “I can hear you!”

  So much for sneaking up on her! Korda sounded so close, like he could reach out and grab her.

  “You can’t hide from me, Lina. Not this time.”

  She didn’t want to hide. She wanted to run. She pressed on, not caring if he heard her or not. It didn’t matter anymore. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her free hand clawing at the rocks to pull her along. How long was this tunnel anyway? At least it was widening now, opening out.

  She picked up speed, bouncing off the walls. Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder, only stopping short when her foot came down on thin air. She threw out an arm, grabbing hold of the wall. It was enough to keep her from falling forward into the great chasm that had opened in the tunnel floor. She wobbled on the edge, stones tumbling into the darkness below. The gap was a meter or two across, but it might as well have been a hundred kilometers for the fear that seemed to grip her heart.

  Could she clamber around it? Lina cast her lamp’s beam over the walls, revealing nothing but smooth rock, barely any handholds at all. She’d never make it that way. Going back wasn’t an option, either, not unless she wanted to run into Korda.

  She would have to jump.

  She almost laughed at how crazy that sounded. Jump the gap. What if it was wider than it looked? What if she didn’t make it across?

  There was only one answer to that. She would fall. Fast.

  “Lina…”

  Korda’s mocking voice was the encouragement she needed.

  Lina backed up, trying to get her breathing under control. She needed to focus on the other side of the crevasse, to imagine herself already there, landing safely. She’d jumped wider streams than this. There was nothing to be scared about.…

  Other than falling into a bottomless pit, of course.

  She couldn’t think like that. She tensed, getting ready to run.

  One. Two. Three.

  Go!

  Lina bolted forward and flung herself across the void. She couldn’t tell if she cried out as she jumped, or whether she screamed inside. Time seemed to slow down as she flew through the air, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

  She wasn’t going to make it. What had she been thinking? It was too far. She reached forward. Her foot struck something hard. She fell, expecting to plunge into the abyss, but instead her shoulder made contact with rock. It was painful contact, but she didn’t care. She was rolling along the passageway, away from the edge. She’d made it! She’d made the jump!

  The glowlamp was still clutched tightly in her hand. She brought up the light to see how far she had leapt. The face of Captain Korda snarled back at her across the chasm. He was on the other side!

  Fighting the urge to fling the precious lamp at him, she shot to her feet and ran. The passage was rising steadily now, stalactites reaching down like gnarled fingers. She didn’t care. Maybe there was a chamber ahead, somewhere she could hide. She continued to climb, up and up and up until…

  Lina stopped short, her heart sinking.

  No. This couldn’t be happening.

  There was no chamber at the end of the passage, only a solid wall of ice.

  There was nowhere else to go, not to the right or the left. She definitely couldn’t go back!

  She tried to steady her breathing, looking up. What would Milo do? What crazy plan would he come up with?

  She flashed the lamp up at the wall. Was that a ledge running across its length, high above her?

  Suddenly, she knew exactly what Milo would do. He would climb!

  The only way is up, Sis!

  Holding her lamp between her teeth, Lina delved into her tool belt. There had to be something she could use.

  Her fingers brushed against metal. She pulled it out. A pilex bit driver, one of a set of three. She’d lost the biggest when the water had hit the W
hisper Bird, but this one felt sturdy enough. Her pilex drivers were fitted with a joint halfway along the shaft, so the sharp drill bit at the end could be locked at a right angle to the rest of the tool. She did exactly that, tightening the joint as much as she could. At least it was now the right shape for an ice pick. She could hold it by the handle and hammer the drill bit into the ice to pull herself up.

  She searched in her belt for the third bit driver. It was smaller than the first, and the joint didn’t feel half as strong when she locked it in place.

  Would either of them hold her weight?

  There was only one way to find out.

  With a grunt, she swung the first bit driver at the wall. The drill bit sunk into the ice and held fast. So far so good. Using the spikes on her boots to push herself up, she swung with her left arm. Again the drill bit held. She climbed hand over hand, remembering how her Dad had taught her all those years before.

  That’s it, Lina. You can do it!

  “I can do it,” she repeated, the glowlamp still clamped in her teeth. “I can do it.”

  The wall wasn’t as vertical as she’d first thought. It sloped slightly away from her, which helped, but her arms ached and her legs trembled with fatigue. Soon even the slightest movement became difficult.

  Keep going, Lina, she heard her dad say. Do it for me. Do it for Milo!

  Her right foot slipped and she cried out, the glowlamp dropping from her mouth. She hung there, listening to it clatter to the floor below. How far had it fallen? She must have climbed farther than she thought.

  It would be easy to look down. Too easy. But she couldn’t risk getting dizzy. She needed to look up. She needed to carry on.

  The drill bits hammered into the wall like blaster bolts.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  The pain in her arms was unbearable, her shoulders tight, the muscles cramping.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  She thought about Milo, how he’d tease her if she fell. Come on, Lina. Get a move on! You’ll never reach that ledge!

  Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that!