walk down memory lane, or anything more deadly than an excessively dull
diplomatic reception. Things had not turned out as expected. It did seem a
lifetime ago since they had seen Luke, but how long had it really been? A
few weeks? A month or two, at most? The constant changes from planet to
planet, the differences in length of day and time zone, all made it hard to
keep track. All he knew for sure was that it seemed as if everything had
been happening at once for a long, long time. Luke looked up from his
embrace with Han and Leia, and nodded to the other party present. "Hello,
Mara," he said. "It's good to see you." "Good to see you too, Luke," she
said, and it seemed to Han as if the hard edge of her voice was just a
trifle softer than usual. "I wish the occasion could be happier," Luke
replied. "I saw Thrackan's broadcast. I don't know what to say, except I'm
sorry. We'll get them back. Leia. I promise we will." "I know we will,
Luke," said Leia. "1 know. But thank you." "Look," said Mara, "no offense to
anybody, hut Luke's chased off all the guards. I'll bet we can crack open
the force field around \J Jade's Fire pretty quick if we tried. Shouldn't
we be escaping along about now?" Luke shook his head. "Let's get your ship
clear, by all means. But I think it might be smart if you stayed right here
for now. If I've got this worked out right, we're going to need a lot of
help from the people who were holding you, and we'd better slay where they
can find us." "Why? What?" asked Han. "What's happened?" "A lot," said Luke.
"Most of it bad. Though maybe there's some good news, as well, buried
underneath it all. And that's where our Selonian friends come in." Han
looked at Luke, and sighed wearily. "It never is simple, is it? Come on,
kid. Let's head inside. I think it's just about time we all sal down and
compared notes." "Q9! Q9! Come in! Q9! Are you there?" "Of course 1 am
here,'' Q9 replied. "I'm here, right where you left me, upside down in a
storage bin. Where else would I be?" The droid had grown quite tired of his
hiding place, and become quite irritable as a result. "An interesting
rhetorical question," said Ebrihim, his whispered voice coming in via the
droid's cornlink system. "But never mind. Suffice to say that we would like
you to come over here, now, if you would." "With pleasure," replied Q9. "Or
more accurately, I will take great pleasure in getting out of this smuggling
compartment. However, I will come to you, assuming I can get to wherever it
is you are being held." "We arc quite nearby, within sight of the ship."
"Very good. But let us discuss a point or two before I come. My built-in
surveillance gear detected the cessation of jamming quite some time ago. It
is two hours since I monitored Thrackan Sal-Solo's broadcast.
Parenthetically, I must add that none of you were looking your best in that.
But in any event, why have you waited until now to call me?'1 "We have been
waiting for the Human League troopers to go to sleep. The last of them
turned in about an hour ago. It would seem they are now all quite soundly
asleep, on board the assault boat." "Why have they not posted a guard? Why
are they so lax?17 Ebrihim laughed. "We arc at the bottom of a sheer-sided,
kilometers-deep pit; we arc being held inside a force field; and of the two
ships available, one is nonfunctional, and the other is full of enemy
troops. I expect they simply felt rather secure in their situation." "It
could be a trap,'1 said Q9. "They could be trying to lull you into a false
sense of security." "They are the ones with a false sense of security. They
do not know we have a comlink, and they are unaware of your existence."
"Where did you get the comlink?'' Q9 asked suspiciously. 'T did not know
that you had one. How do I know you are Ebrihim? How do I know you aren't a
Human League agent posing as Ebrihim? How do I know this is not a trap to
lure me out of my hiding place?" Q9 could hear the sound of Ebrihim sighing
wearily. "Q9, I do believe that you have developed a paranoid streak." "You
would develop one too, if your main circuits were shorted out by a maniac
child, and you were barely given a chance to double-check your repairs
before you were stuck in a dark hole for a day. I have been in an inverted
position for all that time, wondering what could happen to me next. I have
come up with quite a number of alarming possibilities." ''I see," said
Ebrihim, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. "That is most
unfortunate. Let me see if I can put your mind somewhat at ease. We did not
tell you we had a comlink because we were somewhat pressed for time when we
were captured. I myself did not learn that Chewbacca had concealed the
comlink on his person until long after we were off the ship. As for the
other matter, I am indeed Ebrihim. The receipt of sale shows that I paid
twelve hundred and fifty Drallish crowns for you. However, in reality, at
the last minute 1 managed to t alk your owners into a discount for cash of a
hundred crowns, a detail which I forgot. When I inadvertently reported the
higher amount as a deduction on my taxes, you pointed out the discrepancy to
,me and threatened to turn me in if i did not correct it. Ai the time I
seriously considered selling you for the eight extra crowns I was forced to
pay in taxes as a result. There have been many times when I have regretted
my decision to keep you instead. Does that satisfy you?" "I suppose so," Q9
said doubtfully. "Very good then. Now stop acting like a mentally unbalanced
victim of paranoid dementia and get the blazes over here as quickly and
quietly as you can. Ebrihim out!" "No need to be so irritable about it," Q9
said to himself, knowing full well Ebrihim had shut down his comlink. "I see
nothing demented in my effort to insure my own self-preservation." He paused
for a moment. "On the other hand, there is something distinctly peculiar
about a droid that has started talking to itself. Master Ebrihim may well
have a point concerning my mental state. Ah, well." Q9 gently activated his
repulsors, so they pushed the camouflaged cover up off the smuggling
compartment. He let the cover get about a third of a meter high, and then
lowered power to the port side repulsor, causing the lid to slide down to
that direction and fall to the deck with a ioud clunk, it was more noise
than Q9 would have preferred to have made, but he had little choice in the
matter. Q9 extruded a pair of manipulator arms and slowly pushed himself
straight up out of the compartment, until his body was completely out of the
hole. He rotated his body around on the ball-and-socket joints of the arms
until his base was pointed straight down. Then he activated his repulsors
again and drew the two arms back into his body. It was a distinct relief to
be right side up again, and out of that hole. Q9 floated around the Falcon's
circumferential corridor until he came to the access ramp. The ramp was open
and down, which saved him the trouble of opening it himself, and saved that
much more noise as well. However it did represent lax enough security that
Q9 could not help but worry anew that it was all
an elaborate trap. But if
it was, he had already revealed his position, and he was as good as caught,
anyway. He might as well press on. He moved down the ramp and out onto the
wide expanses of the repulsor chamber's interior. It was dark, the chamber
lit only by the dimmest of starlight. Q9 switched over to infrared, and
suddenly the chamber was ablaze with illumination. He moved forward about
thirty meters from the Falcon, and then stopped. He spun his upper dome in a
complete circle, scanning the interior. As Ebrihim had promised, the
prisoners were indeed easy to spot. Six warm bodies inside a force field
were a fairly obvious target. Obvious enough that Q9 was not exactly
thrilled to be moving toward it. He consoled himself with the notion that he
himself was probably a first-rate target in infrared anyway. He completed
his scan, and got a good range and bearing on the assault boat as well. Just
as well to keep a sensor pointed in that direction. Q9 floated briskly
toward the force field containment and came to a stop precisely one meter
from its perimeter. "I'm here,11 he said. "Now what do you want?" It was not
easy to judge Drallish expressions in infrared, but it would seem that
Ebrihirn was glaring at him. "Most beings would find that obvious," he said.
"I want you to get us out of here!" "Of course," said Q9. "To pose a
rhetorical question, what else would you want?" Q9 rotated his view dome
left and then right. "Any suggestions on how I might accomplish that?"
"Around the other side," Ebrihim said. "The control panel for the
containment is on the children's side of the dome." "Ah. So it is," Q9 said,
realizing that he was suddenly feeling quite cheerful. He floated briskly
around to the other side of the containment, and saw the control panel on
the outside, and the children on the inside, watching him. "Good evening,
children," he said, in a most lighhearted tone of voice. "How are all of you
this evening?" He bobbled up and down on his repulsor, in rough imitation of
a little bow. Anakin regarded him gravely for a moment or two, and then
turned to his brother and sister. "Q9 is acting weird," he announced. "Am
I?" Q9 asked. "A moment please, while I run a behavioral diagnostic." Q9
activated the appropriate routines and ran them against his action log for
the past hour. "You're quite right, young Anakin. I am behaving somewhat
erratically. It might well have something to do with being roasted alive and
being stuck in a storage bin for hours on end, but that's all as may be.
We're all friends here. In any event, rest assured that my actions and
reactions are still within acceptable limits. Quite so." "It is one of the
flaws of the Q9-series design," Ebrihim said, speaking to the children in a
quiet voice from the far side of the vertical wall that divided the
containment. "At times, they do not respond well to periods of extended
stress." "But then, who does?" Q9 asked. "He may exhibit fairly drastic mood
swings for a time, but he should settle down after a while," Ebrihim said.
"We'll just have to deal with him as he is for the time being." "Great,"
said Jacen. "We're counting on a manic-depressive droid to break us out of
here." "And break you out I shall," said Q9. "Just tell me how." He spun his
view dome about to check again on the assault boat, and then spun it back, a
bit abruptly. "But be quick about it, before the guards have a chance to
awaken." "Yeah," said Jacen. "Right. Anakin is the one to ask." "Ah, yes,"
Q9 said. "Anakin, master of all machines. Just tell me what to do, and I
shall do it. So long as pushing the wrong button doesn't drop the planet
into the sun, or any such trivial inconvenience." "Q9," said Ebrihim. "You
must control yourself. Settle down. It is most important." "My apologies,"
said Q9. Strange how they were all fussing over him now, when most of the
time they barely gave him a moment's notice. That is, when they weren't
actively against him. "Interesting," he said. "I already seem to be slipping
back into a depressive paranoid phase." "Just-just try and keep your
thoughts ordered and balanced," Ebrihim said soothingly. "Anakin, get him
started." "Ah, okay," Anakin said. "The control panel's turned away from us,
but I think there's a big slot for a sort of metal key right in the middle
of it. Can you see it?" "How did you know that was there if you can't see
it?" Q9 asked suspiciously. "I saw the other guy using it," Anakin said,
glancing toward Jacen a little doubtfully. "It's there, right?" "Yes, it
is." "Ebrihim said that sometimes you can use your manipulator arms to pick
locks and stuff. Do you think you could pick that one?" Q9 extruded a
close-up view cam on the end of a flexible arm. It carried a small
illuminator light at its end, right next to the cable. He switched on the
illuminator and brought the cam to bear on the lock. He examined it
carefully, from several angles, then turned off the illuminator and
retracted the close-up cam. "No," he said. "Oh," Anakin said. "That's not
good." "Is that it?" Q9 asked. "Can I go now?" "No!" Anakin said. He shut
his eyes and extended his hand out toward the control panel. "I can almost
do it, but I can't see the controls the way I can see the inside." He shook
his head and opened his eyes. "Read me what the labels say. Read me all the
buttons and switches." Q9 extruded the close-up cam again and turned on the
illuminator to examine the display. "It is a most archaic system of
controls," he said. "The first dial is labeled main power select-that's the
one with the lock on it. The selector can be set to off, single containment,
DOUBLE CONTAINMENT, Or QUAD CONTAINMENT. It is set to double. Below that is
a dial marked overall intensity. It is marked off from one to eleven, and is
set to eight point five." "Twist that one down as far as it will go," Anakin
said. Q9 extruded a manipulator arm and twisted the dial to the left as far
as he could. "It will not turn any lower than the'point marked two. I would
conjecture that it cannot be turned lower without the key." "Right, right,"
said Anakin. The boy reached out his hand and probed cautiously at the force
field. He seemed to be able to push his hand slowly into it, but only by a
few centimeters. "No, no," said Anakin. "Still too strong. Read me the other
controls," he said. "There are three dials. The first is lit up. It reads
DOUBLE CONTAINMENT LEFT SIDE RELATIVE INTENSITY.
The dial is marked from one to eleven, with the dial set at the center
point, six. The other two dials appear to control quad mode settings. As we
are clearly in double mode, the quad settings are not of any consequence."
"Twist the double level to one side as far as it will go-" Q9 did so, and
the force field forming the children's containment promptly darkened, so
much that the effect was plainly visible even in the near darkness of the
repulsor chamber. "Turn it the other way," Anakin said. Q9 did so, and the
field faded away again, until it was completely invisible, even in infrared.
Anakin pushed at the field again, and it gave a bit more this time-but even
pushing as hard as he could, he could not get out
. "Any more controls on
that thing?" Anakin asked. "That is all," Q9 replied. "Thought so," Anakin
said. "Couldn't feel anything else." "Then why did you ask me?" "Because I
wanted to be sure!" Anakin said. "Don't act so weird, okay?" "Am I still
behaving strangely?" Q9 asked, "Or do you just want me to think I'm behaving
strangely? Is that your plan?" "Q9, we don't have lime for this," said
Jacen. "Later. Whatever it is you're doing, do it later. All right?" Q9
looked at him suspiciously. "I am not 'doing' anything besides following
orders." "Never mind," Anakin said. "Q9-is it all as low as it can go? So it
makes the field as weak this side as it can be?" "As low as it can go
without the key, yes." "All right," said Anakin. "Hope it's good enough.
Here goes." He extended his arms in front of him and spread out his stubby
fingers as far as they would go. He shut his eyes and stepped forward, until
his hands were in contact with the force field. "Gotta move slowly," he
reminded himself. Pushing slowly, gently, he thrust his hand deeper and
deeper into the weakened force field. The field around his hands began to
shimmer and spark, brightly at first, but then fading away, until Anakin was
standing in a pushed-out bubble of the force field, a bubble that was marked
by dim, shimmering flickers of power. Anakin pushed farther on, but seemed
unable to make further progress. "Help me," he said to his brother and
sister. Jacen and Jaina stepped cautiously forward into the extruded bubble
of the force field. Jacen shut his eyes and stretched out his hands. He
frowned and shook his head. "I don't see what you are- Oh, I get it." He
pushed out his hands farther, and Jaina did the same. The bubble lit up
again with shimmers and sparks that did not light up quite as much as they
did the first time, and that faded away more quickly and more completely.
"Try again, Anakin," said Jaina. Anakin pushed on the force field with just
his left hand this time, with slow, steady pressure that stretched the field
farther and farther. And then, moving quite slowly and gently, he bunched up
his fingers into a fist and extended just his index finger. He pushed
forward with his finger, stretching the field farther and farther until, at
Showdown At Centerpoint Page 21
