by Джуд Уотсон
"We'll take a break for now."
Deila waved. "Good work, chief."
The rest of the squad headed off. Cerasi walked in silence next to Obi-Wan for a few minutes. It was cold, and they tucked their hands inside their cloaks for warmth.
"I'm sorry I didn't call for reinforcements," Cerasi said. "I figured we could handle it."
"Did you know Wehutti was there?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Not for sure. But when I hear about a bunch of stubborn angry Melida holdouts, naturally my dear dad springs to mind."
Cerasi tilted her face back to catch the warming rays of the sun. She looked serene, but Obi-Wan had picked up the sad bitterness in her voice.
"He is wrong," Obi-Wan admitted quietly. "But he knows no other way."
"I was stupid enough to think this war would change him." Cerasi stooped down to pick up a piece of rubble in her path. She threw it into a pile at the side of the road and tucked her hand inside again. "I thought if we survived the last war we'd ever fight on Melida/Daan, we'd find each other again. Stupid."
"Not stupid," Obi-Wan said carefully. "Maybe it just hasn't happened yet."
"It's funny, Obi-Wan," Cerasi said thoughtfully. "I had no empty places inside me during the war. I was filled up with my desire for peace, my friendships with the Young. Now we have victory, and my heart feels empty. I didn't think I would miss my family ever again. But now I want something to connect to that goes as deep as blood."
Obi-Wan swallowed. Cerasi continually surprised him. Every time he thought he knew her, another layer would peel back, and he would see a different person. He had met a tough, angry girl who could shoot and fight almost as skillfully as a Jedi. After the war, he had seen an idealist emerge with the power to move hearts and minds. Now he saw a young girl who just wanted a home.
"You connect to me, Cerasi," he said. "You've changed me. We support each other and protect each other. That's family, right?"
"I guess."
He stopped and turned to face her. "We'll be each other's family." He held up his hand. This time, she pressed her palm against it.
The wind picked up, cutting through their cloaks and making them shiver. Still, they kept their palms together. Obi-Wan felt the warmth of Cerasi's skin. He could almost feel the beating of her blood against his.
"You see," he said, "I have lost everything, too."
A tool box from the servo-utility unit Holographic files and computer records for students with names A through H A teacher's meditation robe A fourth-year student's sports activity kit Qui-Gon stared at the list. It was such an odd assortment of items. He could see no pattern there. He and Tahl were working on the assumption that these were petty thefts. That would be the easy answer. Somewhere there could be a student who seemed to be adjusting but who was hiding resentment or anger. He or she had lashed out.
But Qui-Gon had learned through long experience that the easy answer usually just led to a harder question.
The holographic files on the students were kept by Jedi Master Tun. Tun had a record of long years of service. He was several hundred years old, a wizened being of great learning. He had kept the records of the Temple for the past fifty years. Each year he was aided by two student helpers who volunteered for service. Tahl and Qui-Gon had interviewed both of them. They had answered steadily and clearly. Only Tun and other members of the Council had access to the private files. The students were never alone in the filing office without Tun.
It was typical of their investigation. Every lead had turned into a dead end.
An urgent knock came on his door. "Qui-Gon," Tahl called softly. "I need you."
He opened the door. "More bad news," she said with an anxious frown.
"The senior training rooms have been vandalized. All of the lightsabers have been stolen."
Dismay made him slow to respond. Obi-Wan's lightsaber had been in the senior training room. Qui-Gon had left it there. Part of him had hoped that someday Obi-Wan would reclaim it.
"This is no longer petty theft," he said.
"Yoda has cordoned off the room until we see it," Tahl explained.
"Hurry, before TooJay catches up with me."
They walked quickly to the lift tube and took it to the training floor.
Qui-Gon strode into the changing rooms. He stopped short, and Tahl bumped into him from behind.
"What is it?" she asked. "What do you see?"
Qui-Gon couldn't answer for a moment. Sick at heart, he surveyed the room. Training tunics had been ripped to shreds, the pieces flung around the room. Lockers were flung open, their contents spilled onto the floor.
"I can feel it," Tahl said. "Anger. Destruction." She picked her way through the debris, reaching down to pick up a scrap of fabric. "What else?"
"A message," Qui-Gon said. "Scrawled on the wall in red." He read it to her.
COME, YOUR TIME WILL BEWARE YOU MUST, TROUBLE I AM
"It's mocking Yoda," she said. "I know the students imitate him sometimes. Even I do. But we do it with great affection. Qui-Gon, there is hate here."
"Yes."
"We have to get to the bottom of this. And the students must know. We must go on alert."
"Yes," he agreed. "This cannot be secret any longer."
The Temple went on high-security alert. It was a decision the Council was reluctant to make. It made prisoners out of the students. They needed passes to leave the Temple, passes to use the gardens and to swim in the lake. They needed to account for their time at every minute of the day. It was for everyone's protection, but it violated the spirit of the Temple. The Temple's philosophy was that discipline needed to come from within. Security checks contradicted that concept.
But Qui-Gon and Tahl had insisted on the measure, and Yoda had agreed.
The safety of the students was their primary concern.
An atmosphere of mistrust grew at the Temple. Students eyed each other with suspicion. As they were called into interviews with Qui-Gon and Tahl, they watched each other for guilty signs. Yet no one could believe that a student could be capable of such vandalism.
Bruck was one such student. "I know it can't be any of the senior students," he told Tahl and Qui-Gon quietly when they called on him. "We have been through training together. I can't imagine any one of us wanting to damage the Temple."
"It's hard to see into another person's heart," Qui-Gon remarked.
"I was the last person to leave the training rooms last night," Bruck said. "And of course you know that months ago I was disciplined for my anger. I've worked with Yoda, and I've made progress. But I guess I'm still a suspect." Bruck met Qui-Gon's gaze steadily.
"We suspect no one as yet," Tahl assured him. "Did you see anything odd last night? Think carefully."
Bruck closed his eyes for a long moment. "Nothing," he said finally. "I powered down the lights, and I left. We never lock the training rooms. I took the turbolift to the dining hall. I was with my friends all evening until bed."
Qui-Gon nodded. He had already confirmed Bruck's story.
He and Tahl weren't even certain what they were looking for. They were merely gathering information, trying to see if the students had seen anything out of the ordinary, even if it didn't seem to be important at the time.
They dismissed Bruck, and Tahl turned to Qui-Gon with a sigh. "I think he's right. I can't imagine any of the senior students doing this. They are Jedi."
Qui-Gon passed a weary hand over his forehead. "And no one has heard of a student who has recently been angry or upset. Just the usual things — a bad performance on an exercise, or a petty disagreement…" He drummed on the table, thinking. "Yet Bruck was angry once."
"Yoda says he's made great improvements," Tahl said. "And Bruck acknowledged his problem used to be anger. He admitted it must look bad for him that he was the last one to use the room. I got no sense of darkness from him. A boy so honest couldn't have done this."
"Unless he was very, very clever," Qui-Gon remarked.
"Do
you suspect him?"
"No," Qui-Gon said. "I suspect no one and everyone…"
"Master Tahl!" TooJay suddenly appeared in the doorway of the interview room. "I am here to lead you to the dining hall."
Tahl gritted her teeth. "I'm busy."
"It is dinnertime," TooJay said in a musical tone.
"I can find it," Tahl snapped.
"It is five levels down — "
"I know where it is!"
"There is a datapad three centimeters to your left — "
"I know! And in another second, it will be flying at your head!"
"I see you are busy. I will return." TooJay beeped at them in a friendly way, and scooted off.
Tahl dropped her head in her hands. "Remind me to get a pair of vibro-cutters, will you, Qui-Gon? I really need to dismantle that droid."
With a heavy sigh, she raised her head. "This investigation will try the nerves of everyone at the Temple. I feel a serious disturbance in the Force."
"I do as well."
"I fear it is not a student who is doing this. I think it's an invader.
Someone who hates us. Someone who wants to see us fractured and distracted…"
"Someone who could have a larger plan in mind, you mean? Is that what you're afraid of?"
Tahl turned her worried emerald and gold eyes to him. "It is what I fear the most," she said.
"As do I," Qui-Gon softly replied.
Obi-Wan walked through the city streets, exhausted. He had just finished three solid days of Security Squad duty. It had been hard, but they had managed to disarm whole quadrants of the city. There were only isolated pockets left. Most of the weapons had been collected. They were stored in a heavily guarded warehouse. It would be safer to get them out of the city completely until the council decided whether to destroy them. He needed to bring up the issue at the next council meeting.
A few flakes of snow trickled down from a metallic sky. Winter was almost upon them. People needed fuel for the upcoming months. Nothing had been done about it yet.
Instead, Nield had recruited more and more workers on his mission to destroy every Hall in the city. Since Obi-Wan was on the streets most of the time, he had seen the anger of the people. They had turned from thoughts of war to thoughts of survival. The Young were not helping them rebuild their homes or feed their families. The unrest was growing. The Middle Generation had helped them win the war, but the Young were losing their support. What they lacked in numbers they made up in influence. The Young couldn't afford to alienate them.
We must do something, Obi-Wan thought.
He saw a group of Scavenger Young hurrying down a side street with a sense of purpose. Obi-Wan called to one of them.
"Joli! What's going on?"
A short, stocky boy turned. "Mawat called us. Another Hall of Evidence going down today. The one on Glory Street near the plaza." He hurried on after the others.
Obi-Wan felt a pang. That Hall of Evidence held the holograms and markers of Cerasi's ancestors. He remembered how wistful she'd been about her lack of family. Perhaps he should let her know what was about to happen.
He forgot his weariness as he hurried to the tunnels. He climbed down the grate near the mausoleum and hurried into the vaulted space. Cerasi sat at the scrubbed tomb the Young had used as a meeting table.
"I heard," she told Obi-Wan.
His steps slowed as he approached her. "We can ask Nield to stop — "
Cerasi brushed a strand of her short coppery hair out of her eyes.
"That wouldn't be fair, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan sank down on a stool next to her. "When was the last time you went to the Hall?"
Cerasi sighed. "I can't remember. Before I came down into the tunnels…. Long enough so that I can't really remember my mother's face.
Her memory is fading." She turned to Obi-Wan. "I believe that Nield is right. I hate the Halls of Evidence as much as he does. Or at least I did.
But I don't hate my family, Obi-Wan. My mother, my aunts, my uncles, the cousins I've Jost… they're all there. Their faces, their voices… I don't have any other way to remember them. And I'm not alone. So many on Melida/Daan have nothing to remember their loved ones by except the Halls of Evidence. We've bombed our homes and libraries and civic buildings… we have no records of births and marriages and deaths. If we destroy all the holograms, our history will be lost forever. Will we end up missing part of what we destroy?"
Cerasi's keen eyes searched his, but he had no answers for her.
"I'm not sure," he said slowly. "Maybe Nield is being too rash. Maybe the holograms should be preserved somehow. Say in a vault that can only be accessed with permission. That way we wouldn't be encouraging the worship of war or violence, but scholars could have access, and we'd retain the history of Melida/Daan."
"That's a good idea, Obi-Wan," Cerasi said excitedly. "It's a compromise. And it's something to offer the people of Zehava."
"Why don't we persuade Nield to stop temporarily until we can figure this out?"
The excitement in Cerasi's eyes dimmed. "He won't," she said flatly.
"The council of advisors could issue a stop action on Nield's squad until further debate and study can be done. We have that power. Nield would have to go along."
Cerasi bit her lip. "I don't think I can do that. I can't oppose Nield officially. It would split the Young in two. We need to act together. If the Young is divided, that's the end of peace on Melida/Daan. I can't risk that."
"Cerasi, the city is falling apart," Obi-Wan said urgently. "The people want their lives back. That's the way peace will remain. If Nield concentrates on destruction instead of rebuilding, the people will revolt."
Cerasi dropped her head in her hands. "I don't know what to do!"
Mawat suddenly rushed into the chamber. "Hey, Obi-Wan!" he called. "We need you!"
Obi-Wan sprang to his feet. "What is it?"
"Wehutti has organized the Elders to protest the destruction of the Hall on Glory Street," Mawat said. "Yes, there's a huge crowd forming. I need you, now, to authorize the release of weapons to the Young. We must defend our right to demolish the Halls!"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm not releasing any weapons, Mawat. That could turn a protest into a massacre."
Mawat pushed his hands through his long, sandy hair in frustration.
"But we're unarmed, thanks to you!"
"Thanks to the unanimous decision of the council," Cerasi rapped out.
"Obi-Wan is right."
Disgusted, Mawat turned away. "Hey, thanks for nothing."
"Wait, Mawat!" Obi-Wan called. "I said I wouldn't give you weapons. I didn't say I wouldn't give you help."
The rumor spread through the Temple like wildfire. An intruder had been spotted on the grounds. Some said he or she had been seen in the Temple itself. The youngest students were afraid, and even the Jedi Knights were apprehensive. The Temple was on high-security alert. How could someone violate it? Was the Temple vulnerable?
"The Temple's security is tight," Qui-Gon told Tahl as they walked through the halls on a survey, TooJay ahead of them. "But perhaps it relies too much on closing down if a threat is out there."
"Meaning?" Tahl asked.
"Meaning, there are not as many systems operating to protect us if there is someone on the inside who wants the intruder to enter. The system assumes that no Jedi would welcome an outside threat."
"Ramp, incline fifteen degrees, two meters ahead," TooJay trilled.
Tahl's face tightened with annoyance for a moment, but she returned to Qui-Gon's statement. "We don't even know if there's an intruder at all," she said, frustrated. "We've tried to track the story to its source, and it's impossible. This one told that one, who heard it from this one, who doesn't remember who told him…"
"It's the nature of a rumor to be difficult to track," Qui-Gon offered.
"Perhaps the intruder is counting on that. Perhaps he or she wants us to think an invasion has occurred."
; A voice came over the address system. "Code fourteen, code fourteen,"
the calm, steady voice intoned.
"Yoda's signal," Tahl said. "Something's happened."
The two Jedi Knights reversed direction. This time, Tahl took Qui-Gon's arm so that they could move quickly.
"Master Tahl! Please slow down!" TooJay called in her musical voice. "I must assist!"
"Get lost!" Tahl yelled over her shoulder. "I'm in a hurry!"
