The Approaching Storm (звёздные войны)

by Alan Dean Foster

  In matters of political policy she tended to defer to the Senator, though not always. Shu Mai respected her associate's opinions, just as Mousul believed the president of the Commerce Guild listened attentively to his advice. What the Senator sometimes failed to acknowledge was that he was by several orders of magnitude the junior partner in their mutual arrangement. Adept as he was at massaging the egos of fellow politicians, Mousul was content to let Shu Mai deal with the unseen one whose interests they represented.

  The watercraft on which they were presently relaxing drifted freely on Sawam Lake, an exquisite body of water that, like everything else on Coruscant, was artificial in nature. It was a private playground of the very rich, lined with trees and genetically engineered flowers that bloomed year-round, filling the air with a hundred different scents. Other boats cruised sedately nearby, some larger than Shu Mai's, some smaller. She could have overawed them all, but preferred not to be conspicuous. The two were the only ones on the boat. Live servants had ears with which to listen. The pilot droids did not.

  "Our supporters grow impatient." Mousul let the sun bake

  his chest, its rays carefully filtered through the inconspicuous polarized shield that hovered above the boat. "Tarn Uliss in particular worries me. He would not be as easy to deal with as was the unfortunate Nemrileo."

  "Impatience is a potentially fatal disease." Rolling to her left, Shu Mai picked up the spiral tumbler of refreshment and sipped contentedly at its contents. "According to everything you tell me, events on Ansion are unfolding at a predictable and reasonable speed. The others must learn to contain their impulsiveness."

  "It isn't easy, you know, to restrain people caught up in the grip of a new idea."

  Raising her tumbler, Shu Mai gazed through the liquid-filled transparency. It colored the sunlight gold. "That's your job, my friend. I handle the guild, you keep the local political and business interests in check. We'll move only when the time is right."

  Mousul bridled inwardly at what sounded like a directive. Outwardly, he smiled and nodded. For now, Shu Mai was in con trol. Let her dream her dreams of personal grandiosity. When Ansion seceded and Mousul was appointed sector governor, their positions would be reversed. Then it was Shu Mai and her guild that would come calling in search of favors. He met his smaller colleague's gaze evenly.

  "These Jedi complicate matters. Whatever Uliss and the oth ers think, no legitimate vote can go forward until they have been dealt with. I have been in regular contact with our agent there, and I've been assured as recently as yesterday that the visitors will be neutralized."

  "They'd better be." With a soft grunt, Shu Mai leaned back in her chair. "If only the Jedi Knights could be brought around to our way of thinking. It would simplify everything greatly."

  "Won't happen." Mousul stirred his drink with a finger,

  activating a few more of the time-release narcotics swirling within. "The Jedi can't be bent."

  The president of the Commerce Guild shrugged. "It may be that some are not so staunch as you believe."

  Mousul blinked at his co-conspirator. "What do you mean?"

  "Time will reveal all. Meanwhile, events on Ansion will un fold at their own speed. While they do, you and I must wait, and persuade the others to do likewise." She took a long swallow of her own, non-narcotic-infused drink.

  Mousul grunted and went silent. Businessfolk like that brusque Tarn Uliss simply did not understand. While it was true that life was transitory and the window of opportunity to do great things fleeting, they could not be rushed. To move too soon would be to risk everything. If Uliss and the rest would only be patient, the future would be handed to them.

  Beneath the two, who rested and plotted and warmed them selves in Coruscant's beneficent sun, thousands of lesser beings toiled in the great interlocked buildings two hundred stories high whose roof was the lake known as Savvam.

  If not for the small matter of their mission, the travelers would have chosen to spend another day and night at the tran quil, bucolic campsite. Sadly, as always, time insisted and duty called.

  Following the route proposed by the Yiwa brought them to a line of high hills that stretched unbroken across the northern horizon. Kyakhta and Bulgan did not know their names, but a few of the prominences were almost high enough to be called mountains. Gentle of slope, with only a few isolated cliff faces but many water-worn undercuts and overhangs, they presented no barrier to the wonderfully long- legged suubatars. Still, to save time and preserve the strength of their mounts, the travelers chose to continue forward through one of several meandering gaps that cut through the range. None of these was particularly steep- sided, being more gully than gorge. Erosion, Luminara re flected, had long since worn down these old mountains.

  Riding alongside Kyakhta, she noticed that the guide's atten tion was unusually fixed. "You see something that troubles you, Kyakhta?"

  "No, Master Luminara. But the Alwari dislike this kind of country. We prefer flat lands, grassy plains, and open spaces. Being born to the wide prairies, we are uncomfortable in enclosed places." He indicated the gentle, grass-covered slope on his left. "My mind tells me there are few places up there in which to hide, my eyes tell me there are no dangers to be seen, but my heart is full of concerns hammered into me from childhood, when my mane was but a line of immature fuzz running down my back. Old suspicions die hard."

  Scanning the same hillside, she tried to cheer the guide. "If it means anything, I don't see any likely source of trouble, either."

  Which was because it could not be seen. Only felt.

  Sweeping down through the undulating hills, the ever-present wind of Ansion was strengthened by the natural funnel-ing effect of narrowing canyons and clefts. Wind speed did not reach gale force, but it grew strong enough to induce the travelers to cover their mouths and nostrils with protective cloth.

  Bulgan suddenly sat up straight in his saddle. Or at least, as straight as his bent back would permit. No question that he saw something, Obi-Wan noted. The Jedi did not have a chance to ask what it was.

  "Chawix!" Bulgan exclaimed. Reining in his suubatar, he began looking around wildly. Hearing his friend's warning cry,

  Kyakhta turned his suubatar quickly toward the nearest of the overhangs they had passed.

  "In here with your mounts, quickly!"

  Unable to see any danger, Luminara nonetheless hurried to follow Kyakhta's lead. She barely had time to direct her own suubatar to its knees to allow her to dismount when the guide appeared in front of her.

  "Stay here, Master Luminara." Looking back over his shoul der, he winced as something shot past the opening to the undercut. "I think we're safe in here, but if you go farther out, you might catch a gust of wind."

  "What's wrong with that?" Having lowered the protective cloth from the front of her face, she was staring outside. There was nothing to be seen except the narrow gully they had been traversing and the rising slope of the hill on the other side.

  "You might intercept a gust of wind carrying a chawix."

  Obi-Wan had come over to join his colleague in studying the seemingly innocuous gulch. "What kind of animal is a chawix?"

  "It's not an animal," the guide explained. "It's a plant." Turning, Kyakhta dropped into a crouch. As he approached the edge of the undercut and the first pebbles of the sun-washed gully, he dropped to his belly and beckoned them to follow.

  Lying flat on the ground, they were able to watch as several, then dozens of what appeared to be large bundles of impossibly intertwined, ropelike branches came bounding past. Lightweight and propelled by the constant wind that blew down the gully, they would hit the ground, bounce into the air, and soar a substantial distance before touching down once more and bounding skyward once again.

  "Not good to get hit by a chawix." With the two Padawans following him, Bulgan had slithered up alongside the prone Jedi.

  "I can see how it could be uncomfortable," Barriss mused aloud. She was interested, but not happy. Crawling fl
at on hard alien dirt was not one of her favorite pastimes. "But I don't see why it should cause anyone to panic."

  "Maybe our friends worry about one of them striking a suu batar in the face." Anakin shielded his eyes against the dust and the glare as he watched the bundles of vinelike material come bouncing past their rocky shelter. "It looks like they might have some thorns."

  As they looked on, a membibi emerged from its den on the far side of the ravine and started upwind, heading for another burrow. The small, four-legged insectivore was hairless, with splotchy pale white skin, a long whiplike tail, and a low-slung protruding snout it carried only a thumb-length above the ground.

  Flying through the air, propelled aimlessly forward by the wind, a spinning chawix arced downward to land on top of the scurrying membibi. Luminara expected the plant to bounce off, as it had bounced off the rocky surface of the gully itself. It did not.

  Sensing proximity to flesh, it extended a dozen or more thorns from fingernail to finger in length, like a feline extending its claws. Pierced by these multiple woody stilettos, the membibi gave a muted shriek and fell over onto its side, legs kicking. Within minutes it lay still. The chawix, its position secured by the thorns thrust deep into the animal's flesh, began to feed on the dead membibi. The onlookers safe beneath the overhang on the other side of the gully could see the pallid penetrating thorns darken as they sucked up the liquefied flesh of their victim.

  "So the chawix is a carnivorous plant that uses the winds of Ansion to get around." Having carefully retreated to the back of the overhang, Obi-Wan kept his attention focused on the gully.

  "I don't think a good pair of wind goggles would be much protection."

  "The membibi certainly died quickly enough," Luminara pointed out.

  Close to her, Bulgan grunted. "The feeding thorns hold within them a strong nerve poison. Membibi or person, it makes no difference to the chawix. Or to the poison."

  "First the kyren, now the chawix. Both examples of mass subsistence that rely on steady, constant wind to help them feed." She shook her head. "I can see why on the plains of An-sion, a calm day would be a cause for celebration among the Alwari."

  "We would be safer in the cities and towns," Kyakhta admit ted. "But we would not be as free. And we would not be Alwari."

  Bulgan indicated agreement. "I would rather live free among the perils of the prairie than safe in a cramped, smelly house in Cuipernam. And towns hold dangers of their own."

  His friend hissed knowingly. "There are no Hutts on the open plains. Dearly would I love to see Soergg confronted by a few dozen flying chawix."

  Bulgan nodded energetically. "The fat slimebag would feed a whole forest of chawix. On him, they'd grow big as trees!"

  "This Soergg the Hutt," Luminara asked them, "the one who sent you to abduct Barriss: Did he ever tell you why he wanted her?"

  The two Alwari exchanged a glance. "Our minds worked dif ferently then, but no, I don't think he ever mentioned the reason."

  Bulgan confirmed his friend's response. "I thought it was to hold her for ransom. That is the usual reason for carrying out a kidnapping, isn't it?"

  "Not always." She looked to her left. "Obi-Wan?"

  The other Jedi looked even more thoughtful than usual. "We know there are elements that would like to see us fail in our mission, that would dearly love to see Ansion and its allies secede from the Republic. First you and Barriss are attacked, then these two are ordered to abduct her."

  "Not necessarily her." Bulgan indicated Luminara's Pada-wan. "We were told to take either of your apprentices."

  Obi-Wan gestured impatiently. "It amounts to the same thing. A Hutt wouldn't dare to challenge the Order unless there was a substantial profit in it for him. That raises the interesting question of who paid this Soergg to carry out the kidnapping, and probably also the attack on you and Barriss."

  "We have no proof the Hutt was involved in that," Luminara pointed out. "But it follows logically enough."

  He nodded. "Having tried twice to stop us, it stands to rea son he'll try again. We'll have to watch our step when we return to Cuipernam."

  "You raise the question of the Hurt's employer, Obi-Wan." As she watched the last of the chawix tumble past outside their refuge, Luminara searched her memories. "There are many powerful elements among the secessionists. Clearly, some have grown bolder than others. If we could find out who hired the Hutt, we could make a case against them before the Senate. It would embarrass their cause."

  He sighed softly. "You have more confidence in the Senate than I do, Luminara. First, they would appoint a panel to study the accusation. Then the panel would produce a report. The report would go to committee. The committee would issue a commentary based on the report. The commentary would be tabled until the Senate could find the time to vote on the report. Recommendations would follow based on the vote- unless it was voted to send the report back to committee for further study." He met her gaze evenly. "By that time, Ansion and its allies could have seceded from the Republic, formed their own government, had a civil war, dissolved, and re-formed. One would have to live as long as Master Yoda to see the final outcome."

  Standing nearby, Anakin had listened in silence to the Jedi's discussion. Master Obi-Wan was right, he knew. Put something to the Senate, and nothing would ever be accomplished. That was what the Jedi were best at, he decided: getting things done without having to worry about the approval of the endlessly garrulous, nonsensical debate of the Senate. Give him a clean lightsaber over obfuscating words any day.

  He moved slightly away from the others, leaning up against the wall of the overhang, and gazed disinterestedly out at the lethal plants that were still bounding past. There were fewer of them now. He and his companions should be able to move soon. Observing his isolation, Barriss moved to intrude upon it.

  "You don't find wind-propelled carnivorous poison plants of interest? Not many would be so quickly bored with otherworldly wonders, Anakin."

  He looked over at her. "It's not that, Barriss. I have other things on my mind." Straightening, he stood away from the wall. "I guess I'm just impatient to get this assignment over with." He nodded in the direction of the gully. "For example, if we had a landspeeder, we wouldn't have to worry about things like these chawix. The kyren, maybe, but not chawix." One hand moved to his lower back. "And my butt wouldn't hurt so much." She smothered a smile. "Your saddle doesn't fit you?" "Very little on this world fits me. I wish I was elsewhere." "Strange world that, Elsewhere. I've heard a lot about it." His expression changed. "Now you're making fun of me."

  "No, I'm not," she insisted, though her tone and expression were ambivalent. "It's just that sometimes I think you're a little too self-centered to be a Jedi. A little too focused on what's good for and essential to Anakin Skywalker, as opposed to what's important to your colleagues and to the Republic."

  " 'The Republic.' " He gestured toward where the two older Jedi were conversing with their guides. "You should hear Master Obi-Wan talk about the Republic, sometimes. About what's happening to it, what's going on in the government."

  "You mean the talk of a secessionist movement?"

  "That-and other things. Don't misunderstand. Master Obi-Wan is a true Jedi. Anyone can see that. He believes in everything the Jedi stand for and everything they do. The way I see it, that's very different from believing in the current government."

  "Governments are always changing. They're a mutable or ganism." While she spoke, she continued to look on in fascination as the chawix slowly consumed the last of the unfortunate membibi. "And like any living thing, they are always growing and maturing."

  "Or like any living thing, they die and are replaced. Believing in the Republic isn't the same as believing in the Senate."

  "Ah-that overstaffed hothouse full of declamatory blowhards!"

  He looked at her in sudden surprise. "I thought you dis agreed with me."

  "About the Republic and what it stands for? Yes. About the Senate, that's something
else again. But politicians are not Jedi, Anakin, and Jedi are not politicians. It's the Council we report to, it's their directives that lead us, and unless that changes, I'm afraid I can't share your overweening cynicism regarding the state of the Republic."

  "Your upbringing was different from mine. You haven't seen the things I have." He looked down at her. "You don't feel the kind of loss I do."

  "No, that's true," she readily admitted. "I don't." Her tone softened from argumentative to curious. "What's it like, to know your mother? To grow up with one?"

  He brushed past her, moving to rejoin the others. "It's a feeling of loss that's hard to describe. Just know that it hurts. You're better off without that hurt, Barriss. Nothing personal, but it's kind of private. Even Jedi are entitled to a few small privacies. Even Padawans." He forced a smile. "Anyway, that was a long time ago. Let's see if our good guides think it's safe for us to resume our journey."