by Brian Daley
With a soft hiss of escaping air-his plastron was airtight, insulated, and shockproof Bolluxs chest swung open as the labor droid moved his long arms back out of the way. Blue Maxs monocular came alive and tracked over to the gameboard just as Han punched up his next move. His gamepiece, a mlnia-rare, three-dimensional monster, jumped into battle with one of Chewies. But Han had misjudged the two pieces subtle win-lose parameters. The Wooldees simulacrum-beastie won the brief fight. Hans game-piece evaporated back into the nothingness of com-puter modeling from which it had come.
You should have used the Second Hthmar De-fense, Blue Max volunteered brightly. Han swung around with murder in his eye; even the precocious Max recoL-,nized the look, hastily adding, Only trying to be of assistance, sir.
Blue Max is quite new, quite young, Captain, Bollux supplied, by way of mollifying Hah. Ive taught him a bit about the board game, but he doesnt know much yet about human sensitivities.
Is that so? Han asked, as if fascinated. So whos teaching him, Mr. Pick and Shovel, you?
Sure, Max bubbled. Bolluxs been everywhere. We sit and talk all the time, and he tells me about the places hes seen.
Han swiped at the gameboards master key, clear-ing it of his defeated holo-beasties and Chewbaccas victorious ones. Do tell? Well, now, that must be some kind of education Slit Trenches I Have Dug- a Trans-Galactic Diary.
The great starship yards of Fondor was where I was activated, Bollux responded, in his slow way. Then, for a time, I worked for a planetary survey Alpha-Team, and after that, for a construction gang on weather-control systems. I had a job as general roust-about for Gan Jan Rues Traveling Menagerie, and as maintenance helper in the Trigdale Foundaries. And more. But one by one, the jobs have been taken over by newer models. I volunteered for all the modifica-tions and reprogramming I could, but eventually I simply couldnt compete with the newer, more capable droids.
Interested now despite himself, Hah asked, Howd Jessa pick you for this ride?
She didnt, sir; I requested it. There was word that a droid would be selected from the general labor pool for some unstated modification. I was there, having been purchased at open auction. I went to her and asked if I might be of use.
Han chortled. And for that they yanked out part of you, rearranged the rest, and stuck that coin bank inside you. You call that a deal?
It has its disadvantages, sir. But its kept me func-tioning at a relatively high level of activity. There would probably have been some lesser vacancy for me elsewhere, Captain, even if it were only shoveling bio-logical byproducts on a nontechnological world, but at least I have avoided obsolescence for the time be-ing.
Han gaped at the droid, wondering if he were circuit-crazy. So what, Bollux? Whats the point? Youre not your own master. You dont even have a say in your own name; you have to reprogram to what-ever your new owner decides to call you, and Bollux is a joke. Eventually youll be of no further use, and then its Scrap City.
Chewbacea was listening intently now. He was far older than any human, and his perspectives were dif-ferent from a mans... or a droids. Bolluxs leisurely speech made him sound serene as he replied, Ob-solescence for a droid, sirs, is much like death for a human, or a Wookiee. It is the end of function, which means the end of significance. So it is to be avoided at all costs, in my opinion, Captain. After all, what value is there to existence without purpose?
Han jumped to his feet, mad without knowing ex-actly why, except that he felt dumb for arguing with a junk-heap droid. He decided to tell Bollux just what a deluded, misfit chump the old labor droid really was. Bollux, do you know what you are?
Yessir, a smuggler, sir, Bollux responded promptly. Han, confused, looked at the droid for a moment, his mouth hanging open, taken off balance by the re-ply. Even a labor droid ought to recognize a rhetorical question, he thought. What did you say?
I said, Yessir, a smuggler, sir, Bollux drawled, like yourself. One who engages in the illegal import or export of-his metal forefinger pointed down at Blue Max, nestled in his thorax concealed goods.
Chewbacca, paws clasped to his stomach, was roll-ing around on the acceleration couch, laughing in hys-terical grunts, kicking his feet in the air.
Hans temper blew. Shut up! he shouted at the droid. Bollux, again with that strange literalhess, obe-diently swung his chest panels closed. Chew baccas laughter had him close to suffocation, as tears appeared around his tight-shut eyes. Hah began looking around for a wrench or a hammer, or another instrument of technological mayhem, not intending to have any droid one-up him and survive to tell the tale. But at that moment the navicomputer bleeped an alert. Han and Chewbacca instantly charged for the cockpit, the Wookiee still clasping his midsection, to prepare for reversion to normal space.
The tedious trip to Orton III had gnawed at their nerves; both pilot and copilot were grateful for the reappearance of stars that marked emergence from hyperspace, though it was accompanied by a wallow-ing of the gigantic barge shell. The barges ovoid hull bulged beneath them, a metal can of a ship with a minimum of engine power. Jessas techs had executed their hull mock-up so that the Falcons cockpit re-tained most of its field of vision.
Han and Chewbacca kept their hands off the ships controls, letting the computer do the work, maintaining the role of an automated barge. The automatics ac-cepted their landing instructions, and the composite ship began its ungainly descent through the atmos-phere.
Orron III was a planet generous to man, its axial tilt negligible, its seasons stable and, throughout most of its latitudes, conducive to good crop production, and its soil rich and fertile. The Authority had recognized the planets potential as a bread basket and wasted no time in taking advantage of its year-round growing sea-son. Since the planet had more than adequate resources, room, and a strategic location, they had opted to build a data center there as well, thus simplifying logistics and security for both operations.
Orron III was undeniably beautiful, wreathed with strings and strands of white cloud systems, and show-ing the soft greens and blues of abundant plant life and broad oceans. As they made their approach, Han and Chewbacca ran sensor readings, taking the lay-out of the Authority installations.
What was that? Han asked, leaning forward for a closer look at his instruments. The Wookiee woofled uncertainly. I thought I caught something for a sec-ond, big blip in a slow transpolar orbit, but either it went around the planets horizon or weve dropped too low to pick it up. Or both. He worried about it for a moment, then firmly instructed himself not to borrow trouble; whether or not there was a picket ship should make no difference.
Ground features began to resolve into gently rolling country divided precisely into the huge parcels of in-dividual fields. The various shades of those fields re-fleeted a wide range of crops at various states of maturity. Planting, growing, and harvesting must be done on a rolling basis on a large agriworld, for opti-mal utilization of equipment and manpower.
Eventually they could discern the spaceport, a kilometers-wide stretch of landing area built to the immense proportions of the great robo-barges. The main part of the port, which supported the Authority fleet ships, occupied only a small comer of the installa-tion, even taking into consideration its communica-tions and housing complexes. The majority of the place was sunply mooring space for the barges, abysslike berths where maintenance gantries could reach them for repair work and the lunabering mobile silos, aided by gravity, could load them. A constant flow of bulk transports, ground-effect surface freighters, came by special access routes to the port, unloaded their car-goes of foodstuff into the silos, and turned back again, bound for whatever harvest was presently going on.
The bogus barge carrying the Falcon settled to its appointed berth among hundreds of others on the field. They touched down, and the computers stopped their chatter. Han Solo and Chewbacca locked down the console and left the cockpit. As they entered the for-ward compartment, Bollux looked up. Do we disem-bark now, sirs?
Nope, Hah answered. Jessa said these p
eople were going to pick up will find us.
The Wooldee went to the main lock and activated it. The hatch rolled up, and the ramp eased down, but didnt admit light or air from Orron IIIs atmosphere; the camouflaging hull design covered most of the Fal-cons super-structure, and a makeshift outer hatch had been installed just beyond the ramps end.
The ramp had barely lowered when there was a clanging on the outer skin there. The Wookiee snorted warily, and Halls hand dipped and came up with his blaster. Chewbacca, seeing his parmer was ready, hit the switch to open the outer hatch.
Standing just beyond was a man of incongruities. He wore the drab green coverails of a port worker and had a tool belt slung at his waist. Yet he radiated a different aura, nothing like that of a contract tech. He was native to a sun-plentiful world, that much was ap-parent, for his skin was so dark that its black ap-proached indigo. He was half a head taller than Hah, with broad shoulders that strained the seams of his issue coverails, and a body that spoke of waiting, abun-dant power. His tightly curled black hair and sweep-ing beard were shot through with streaks of gray and white. For all the size and weight of dignity of him, he had a lively glint of humor in his black eyes.
Im Rekkon, he declared at once. He had a direct gaze, and although his tone was moderate, it resonated in the air, its quality deep and full. He replaced at his belt the heavy spanner hed used to rap on the hatch. Is Captain Solo here?
Chewbacca gestured to his partner, who had just come further down the ramp. The Wookiee hooted in his own language. Rekkon laughed and-to their as-tonishmentmroared back a polite response in Wook-fee. Few enough humans even understood the giant humanoids tongue; fewer still had the range and force of voice to speak it. Chewbacca boomed his delight in an earsplitting yowl and patted Rekkons shoulder, beaming down at him.
Now that youre all through with the community sing, Hah interrupted, stripping off his flying gloves, Im Han Solo. Whens liftoff?
Rekkon appraised him frankly, but there was still that jovial light to his face. Id like it to be as soon as possible, as Im sure you would, Captain Solo. But we must make one brief trip to the Center, to cull the data I need and pick up the other members of my group.
Han looked back to the head of the ramp, where Bollux waited, and gestured to him. Lets go, Rusty. Youre back in business.
Bollux, his chest plates closed once again, clanked down the ramp, his stride as stiff as ever. Hed ex-plained during the trip that his odd manner of walking came from the fact that hed been fitted with a heavy-duty suspension system at one point in his long career.
Rekkon was holding out two cards for Han and Chewbacca, bright red squares with white identifica-tion codes stamped on them. Temporary IDs, he ex-plained. If anyone asks, youre on short-term labor contracts as tech assistants fifth class.
Us? Hah sputtered. Were not going anywhere, pal. You take the droid, get your gang and whatever else, and you come back. Well keep the home fires burning.
Rekkons grin was dazzling. But what will you two do when the decontamination crew arrives? Theyll be irradiating the entire barge, and your ship with it, to make sure no parasites feed on the shipment. Of course, you could switch on your deflector shields, but that would surely be noticed by port sensors. The two partners glanced at each other dubiously. It was true that a decentam-treatment would be normal proce-dure, and that a man and a Weekice hanging around the landing area while the team did its work would make somebody curious.
And there is another matter, Rekkon continued. The Waiver status for your ship, and its doctored identification codes; I shall be taking care of those, too. Since you and your first mate have a vested interest in that, I had thought you might wish to accompany me.
Hans mouth began watering at the thought of the Waiver, but he always got the sweats in the halls of power, and that Authority Data Center was precisely that. His inbuilt caution came forward. Why do you want us on this side trip? What is it youre not telling? Youre right, there are other reasons, Rekkon an-swered, but I do think it best, for you as well as for me, if you come. I would be much in your debt.
Han stared at the tall black man, thinking about the Waiver and the inevitable decentam-team. Chexvie, get me a tool bag. He unfastened his blaster belt, knowing he couldnt be seen armed in an area of tight security. Chewbacca returned with the bag and his bowcaster. Both dropped their weapons into the tool bag, and the Weekice slung it over his shoulder.
With Bollux traiYmg after, they walked through the outer hatch, locked it closed, and followed Rekkon across the maintenance gantry. The barges hull stretched far below and to either side. A utility skim-mer with a work platform and enclosed cab was hov-ering on the other side of the gantry. The living beings climbed into the cab, Rekkon getting behind the con-trols and Han crowding next to him, while Chewbacca filled the rear seat. Bollux settled himself on the work platform, securing himself with his servo-grip. The skimmer swung away from the barge. Howd you find us so fast? Han wanted to know. I received word of what markings your craft would have, and its estimated time of arrival. I came as soon as the data systems registered your approach. Ive been waiting here for some time, with forged field-access authorization. I presume this droid is my computer-probe?
Sort of, Han answered as Rekkon upped the skim-mers speed to the legal limit, guiding it between rows of berthed barges. Theres another unit budt into his chest; thats your baby.
The port was surrounded on every side by ripening grain, showing the ripples of the gentle winds of Orton HI. While he glanced about, Hah asked, Whatre you looking for in Authority computers, Rekkon?
The man studied him for a moment, then turned back to the controls as he pulled onto a service road. Except for the immediate area of the barges, Hah knew the skimmer would have to adhere to authorized routes, and would be intercepted if it fiew too high, too fast, or cross-country. Off in the distance, gargantuan robot agricultural machines moved through the crops, capable of planting, cultivating, or harvesting vast tracts of land in a single day.
Rekkon adjusted the polarization of the skimmers windshield and windows. He didnt make it reflective, or opaque to outside observation, which might have been conspicuous, but darkened it against the sun. The cabs interior dimmed, and Han felt as if he were in one of Sabodors pet environment globes. As they sped along the service road, cutting between seas of bending grain, Rekkon asked, Do you know what my mission here has been?
essa said it was up to you whether or not to tell us. I nearly passed up the bargain because of that, but I figured there must be a fair piece of cash involved for this kind of risk.
Rekkon shook his head. Wrong, Captain Solo. Its a search for missing persons. The group I organized is made up of individuals whove lost friends or rela-tives under unexplained circumstances. Same things begun to happen with suspicious regularity within the Corporate Sector. I found that a number of others were abroad, as I was, seeking their lost ones. Id detected a pattern, and so I gathered about me a small group of companions. We infiltrated the Data Cen-ter in order to carry out our search, with Jessas help.
Han tapped his finger on the window, thinking. This explained Jessas commitment to Rekkon and his group, her determination to see that he got all the re-quired assistance. Docs daughter obviously hoped that Rekkon and his bunch, in locating their own lost ones, would turn up her father.
Weve been here for nearly one Standard month, Rekkon continued, and its taken me most of that time to find windows of access into their systems, even though Im rated as a contract computer tech super-visor first class. Their security is diligent, but not ter-ribly imaginative.
Han shifted around on his seat to look at the other.
So whats the secret?
I wont say just yet; Id rather be sure and have ab-solute proof. There is a final correlation of data for which I need a probe; the terminals to which I have access at the Center have governors and security limit-ers built into them. I lack the resources and parts and time to Construct my own device. But I kn
ew Jessas excellent techs could provide what I needed and there-by decrease the risk of detection.
Which reminds me, Rekkon. You havent told us that other very good reason why we should come with you to the Center.
Rekkon looked pained. Youre persistent, Captain.
I selected my companions carefully; each of them was
close to a lost one, yet-
Han sat up. But youve got a traitor in there some-where. Rekkon stared hard at the pilot. It wasnt just a guess. Jessas operation got hit while I was there; an Authority corvette dropped a spread of fighters on us. The chances of them just stumbling onto us, out of all the star systems in the Corporate Sector, are so small theyre not even worth talking about. That left a spy, but not one who was there at the time, or the Espos wouldnt have been scouting, theyd have come in force. They mustve been checking out a number of solar systems. He leaned back, serf-satisfied. He was proud of his chain of logic.
Rekkons face was a mask cut from jet. Jessa gave us a contingency list of places where we might be able to contact her ff our lines of communication were broken. Plainly, that solar system was one of them.
That surprised Han. Jessa would never ordinarily have trusted anyone with that sort of information. She must be investing aH hope of finding her father with Reidcon. Okay, so youve got somebody whos on two payrolls. Any idea who?
None, except that it cannot be either of the two members of my group who have already perished. I believe they discovered who the traitor was. There were indications in the final comlink conversation I had with one of them before she died. And so, of course, Ive told no one of your arrival, and came to meet you myself. I wanted your help, to make sure none of them can give the alarm before we depart. I have called each of them to my office, without telling them the others would be there.
