countdown clock. The clock started moving, and the seconds melted away. For
half a moment Tendra considered the idea of getting set to jump to
hyperspace on manual if the automatics failed. That was the way the heroes
always did it in the holovids, after all. But no. The holovid heroes were
always seasoned pilots of the spaceways, or else they were the most
naturally gifted pilots the galaxy had ever seen. Besides, they were always
backed up by that most powerful of allies-cooperative scriptwriters. Life
didn't work that way. She couldn't count on it all turning out right by the
last scene. Besides, this was exactly the second time she had ever flown a
hyperspace jump. If something went wrong with the automatics, and they
decided to shut down rather than proceed, it would be prudent of her to take
their word for it. Better to sit out here for another month or two, going
half mad with boredom, rather than have the hyperspace motors blow up under
her or kick her out into the far side of the galaxy. She checked the
countdown clock. Fifteen seconds. It had been a hell of a long ride so far,
and even if this worked, and she got into the Corellian system, even if her
navicomputer was dead-on and she arrived right at Centerpoint's main docking
collar, there were no guarantees that this ride was over quite yet. Ten
seconds. And what about Lando? Was he all right? Was he anywhere remotely
near Centerpoint? Would she even be able to find him? It was the middle of a
war, after all. Things were not likely to be all that well organized. Five
seconds. What was she doing here, anyway? Why had she climbed into an
overpriced secondhand starship to go chasing after some smooth-talking
ladies' man she had met exactly once? She had always thought of herself as a
levelheaded sort of person. Right now the evidence was strictly to the
contrary. Three seconds. This was crazy. She was about to jump into a war
zone. She ought to abort the jump to light speed, reverse course, and head
back home to Sacorria, where it was safe. Two seconds. No. Too late for
that. If she did, she would spend the rest of her life wondering what if.
One second. Instead, she was about to find out. Zero. The cockpit viewport
exploded into life as the sky filled with starlines, and the Gentleman
Caller made the big jump to light speed. Suddenly Tendra Risant didn't have
the time to worry about anything at all. Ossilege stood up from behind his
desk, turned, and paced the room thoughtfully. He paused in front of the
viewport, and now gave a long, hard look at the planet Drall. He had no
interest when it was just a lovely sight, thought Lando. Now that it has
great military significance, though-now he wants to take a look at it. "So
if I understand you correctly," he said, turning to face the others, "the
planetary repulsors are of far greater significance than .we-thought. If we
possessed one in time to deflect the hyperspace tractor-repulsor shot from
Centerpoint-then that would save all the good people of Bovo Yagen--and
perhaps, just incidentally, win us the war. Do I have that about right?"
"Just about right, sir," said Lieutenant Kalenda. "However, it is more than
a question of possessing the repulsor. It is knowing how to use it. And I'm
not entirely sure Thrackan Sal-Solo is able to control it." "But they fired
it already." "Not really, sir. It was an-an uncontrolled start-up. There was
a massive burst of unregulated repulsor radiation, that's all. The Selonian
repuisor shot was much more controlled. And there's another reason. Remember
his assault boat went into the repulsor after it was fired. We're only
assuming it was his techs who fired it." "After seeing that broadcast he
made, I'll tell you who I think set it off," said Lando. "And who might that
be?" Ossilege said, smiling coldly, indulgently. An expression that said he
had already rejected whatever Lando was about to say. "The children," Lando
said. "I think they managed to turn it on by accident. The repulsor burst
attracted Thrackan's attention, the same as it did yours, and he got there
first." "Don't be absurd," Ossilege said, all but openly sneering. "How
could children activate a planetary repulsor?" "I don't know. It's possible
Chewbacca did, but I doubt he would be so careless as to allow an
uncontrolled burst like that. Maybe the two Drall did it. But someone in
that group is the one who pushed the button." "1 doubt it. I believe it was
some of SaS-Solo's people who activated the repulsor, an advance team if you
will. I believe they somehow captured the children whilst in the process of
searching for the repulsor. But all this is beside the point. Sal-Solo has
the repulsor now. And I have a marine assault force preparing to go in and
take it from him. It is just before local dawn at the repulsor site now. The
marines plan to go in just after sunset tonight-though I may push that
forward if circumstances merit. They are holding tactical exercises and
running simulations right now." "Why not go in now?" Lando asked. "I asked
Commander Putney, the assault troops' commanding officer, that same
question, some hours ago. i assure you Putney is feeling as much anxiety as
you to go at once, but it's not that simple. The main problem is that, as
per my orders, their assault boats were combat-loaded for a prolonged
exploratory sortie onto Centerpoint, in case that proved necessary. That is
a wholly different mission than a quick-strike attack against a small force
in a fixed position. It simply takes time to unload the boats from one
mission profile and repack for another. There are other factors. The marine
commander believes that going in during darkness will be to their advantage.
He has also worked out the relative time zones, and the effects of changes
in local time and duration of day. He calculates that the Corellians in the
repulsor will be at their most tired, their most sleep-deprived, just about
at local sunset this evening. Suffice to say that although you and I are
actually in agreement on this point, and wish the attack to happen sooner,
there are cogent reasons for the delay. The risks are obvious-but I believe
that once all the factors are weighed, our best chance for success is to
wait." "And you're either right, or you're wrong, with no way to know for
sure until it's too late. Then you're a genius for guessing right, or a
monster and a fool for guessing wrong. I don't envy you that sort of
decision, Admiral. They stuck me with a generalship once, a long time ago,"
said Lando. "I didn't care for it. Mostly because of decisions just like
this one. You have my sympathy." "Thank you, Captain Calrissian. Given our
past differences, that was most generous of you to say." "Believe me, every
word was sincere. But we haven't touched the main question. Do any of you
believe that our friend down there, the very high and mighty Thrackan
Sal-Solo, is now able to operate that repulsor? Or, if not, will he be able
to soon?" "Hard to tell, really," said Kalenda. "My working theory is that
the outside force running this thing sent in technical teams, intending to
have their own people control the repulsors
and not trusting to the locals.
Sal-Solo would have been given enough techs to cover one repulsor. Has he
kept those techs home, or has he brought them along? How good are they? Do
they know what they are doing? What sort of shape is the repulsor in? Was it
damaged by the uncontrolled startup?" Kalenda shook her head. 'There are too
many variables." "Hmmph. Someday, an intelligence officer will answer a
question with an answer, instead of a new collection of questions. The
Selonian repulsor is up and running. The Drall repulsor is a question mark.
What about the Corellian one, or the units on Talus and Tra-lus?" Kalenda
shook her head. "We have no indication that they are functional. But that
doesn't mean a thing. That they haven't been used might mean they haven't
been found yet, or that the technicians have their finger on the button,
just waiting for their big moment." "Murk and muddle," Ossilege said. "All
of it murk and muddle. Nothing clear, nothing absolute, no one clear enemy
you can point your finger at and say it's him! Attack! What do you make of
it, Madame Prime Minister? You have sat there, quite silent, for a while
now." Gaeriel leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms thoughtfully.
"You have pointed your finger square at the chief difficulty. There are too
many enemies, and they are too vague, too uncertain, too diffuse. I think
that is part of a deliberate tactic. It is meant to confuse us, distract us,
get us looking in all the wrong directions. And, I am afraid, it has worked.
We have heard so many conflicting stories, dealt with so many contradictory
claims, that we no longer know what is real. All I know for sure is that we
have not met the real enemy yet. I no longer believe the rebellions have any
reality. The rebel groups are essentially fakes, all of them. Some are
wholly artificial, and some are tiny little splinter groups, fringe
organizations that the real outside force has pumped up with money and
support. The partial exception is the Human League. It was a real
organization- but it got financed by the same outsiders as the rest of the
rebels. And 1 feel quite confident that the Human League is now as much in
rebellion against its paymasters as it is against us. The outsiders, the
external enemy, set all this in motion in order to grab the Corellian Sector
and damage the New Republic. But the Human League and Thrackan Sal-Solo have
decided to grab Corellia for themselves. "We haven't seen the real enemy
yet. We've only seen their frontmen, their stooges, their stand-ins. But I
think that the end of the communications blackout means that we are going to
meet the real enemy, and very soon." There was a discreet bleep from the
intercom set on the desk. Ossilege turned and walked back to the desk. "Yes,
what is it?" he asked. "Sir," said a voice on the comm unit, "we've just
detected the interdiction field coming down. It is fading away very rapidly,
and is already below the threshold to permit hyperspace travel." "Is it
indeed? Then I think we can assume someone or other is about to do some
hyperspace travel. All stations on all ships to standby alert. I want the
detection officers sharp." "Yes, sir. Sir, there is another matter. The
moment the field came down, we received another communication from Source A.
He is on the- "One moment." Ossilege stabbed a button down on the comm,
cutting off the speaker. He picked up the comm's handset. Rare to see a
handset, thought Lando. Even rarer to see one used. Most people were glad to
talk to the empty air with their hands free, rather than holding a hunk of
plastic to the side of their head and talking into it. But handsets had the
great advantage of keeping those nearby from hearing the conversation. And
Ossilege had clearly never been one for letting anyone know anything unless
they needed to know it. "All right, go ahead." Ossilege listened. "Is he
indeed? By all means, put him through. No, no, voice only is fine. But one
moment please." Ossilege put his hand over the handset's speaker. "My
apologies to you all. If I had not promised otherwise, I would gladly
include you all in this. But I gave my word to keep discussions with-ah-this
source-private." Gaeriel stood up, and Lando and Kalcnda took their cue from
her. "Of course, Admiral. We understand. Your word must be your bond."
"Thank you for your understanding, Madame Prime Minister. Lieutenant
Kalenda, Captain Calrissian. We will continue this discussion later." "I
wish I could head up to the bridge and watch the show," said Lando as the
three of them stepped out into the corridor. "Why can't you? In fact, I
think I'll go myself," said Gaeriel. "Well, uh, yeah, but you're an ex-Prime
Minister and the plenipotentiary and all that," said Lando, a bit hurriedly.
"You're a very official person. I'm just some guy who's along for the ride."
"Lieutenant Kalenda?" Gaeriel asked. "Arc you coming?" "No, ma'am. Not just
now." "I see," said Gaeriel, though it was clear she did not. "I seem to be
missing something. I should think you'd both be most eager to get up there
and see what's going on." "Well, yes, we are," Lando admitted. "But the last
thing a bridge crew needs during a crisis is off-duty personnel playing
tourist," or uninvited high-ranking guests breathing down their necks and
jiggling their elbows, he thought, though he never would dare say such a
thing to her out loud. "I see," said Gaeriel. "I expect that military
etiquette would preclude my going as well, wouldn't it?" The woman was
sharp. You had to give her that much. "Ah, well, yes, ma'am." "In that case,
to hell with military etiquette. I will go to the flag deck, which is
designed with the purpose of letting those in it observe without
interfering. I will not bother anyone. I will not get it into my head to
start issuing freelance orders. But I am going up there to see what is going
on." "My, my apologies, Gaeriel-ma'am, Madame Prime Minister. I meant no
offense," Lando said. At least not so much that you need to bite my head
off. Gaeriel Captison sighed wearily. "And none taken," she said. "My
apologies to you. That was uncalled for on my part. But, by all that's
sacred, this is my mission. I'm the reason this ship is here. Luke Skywalker
came to me and asked me for help, and I got it for him. And my government
named me as plenipotentiary, empowered to make all decisions in its name. I
am entitled, I am honor-bound, to see everything, know everything, before I
make those decisions. But they all coddle me here, insulate rne, keep all
the awkward facts and unimportant details away from me. It was a relief to
go to Centerpoint and nearly die of smoke inhalation. At least I was doing
something. And now Centerpoint is going to incinerate another star in three
days time, and the interdiction field has just dropped, and the devils of
dark space alone know what that means, and I'm supposed to just go to my
cabin and sit quietly in polite ignorance because going to the flag deck
isn't the done thing?" "You've got a point," said Lando. "And you two should
see it all too, but you're not going to, because it would be rude?" "Yes,
ma'am. It sounds
ridiculous, but- "It sounds ridiculous because it is
ridiculous," Gaeriel said. She looked from Lando to Kalenda and back again.
"I order you to accompany me to the flag deck, right now." Lando glanced at
Kalenda. He was just about certain that Gaeriel Captison had no legal
authority under any interpretation of space law at all, to issue him an
order, and he was only slightly less sure that she had no right to issue
orders to Kalenda, either. But who was going to tell that to an ex-Prime
Minister and plenipotentiary? "Very well, Madame Prime Minister," he said.
"If you insist." Gaeriel grinned. "Oh, I do, I do," she said. "So let's get
going," she said, and led the way. Kalenda and Lando followed, and they let
her get a few steps ahead, and then a few steps more. Once she was safely
out of earshot, Lando leaned over toward Kalenda and spoke in a low voice.
"Well, I put my foot in it that time," he said. "That you did," Kalenda
said, her voice just as low. "But on the bright side, at least we get to see
what in blazes is going on out there." "Sounds good to me." "On another
subject," Kalenda whispered, "do you have any idea what that Source A
business is about?" What indeed, Lando thought. There was something about
the idea of a casual question from an intelligence officer that didn't quite
ring true with Lando. She was not the sort of person who ever asked
questions without a reason. Was it a trick question? Was she trying to see
if he knew more than he should? Or did she just see him as a good analyst, a
good guesser, a good source for informed speculation? Or was she just making
conversation while he was getting paranoid? Not that it mattered what she
was or was not after- Lando had no information. He had a guess or two, but
that didn't count. The second he had heard the words "Source A," he had
immediately thought of the brilliantly original idea of calling Tendra
Risant Source T. That brought an immediate idea to mind as to who Source A
might be. But he knew better than to stick his neck out. "You're the intell
officer," he said, "your guess is as good as mine. Probably better." "Oh,
come on. You can do better than that." "Okay, okay, I do have a guess or
two, I admit it. I just think I'd like to keep them to myself. Even I don't
quite believe them." Kalenda laughed. "Fair enough," she said. "But I've got
Showdown At Centerpoint Page 23
