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The Fight to Survive

Page 10

by Terry Bisson


  It was Aia. "I was afraid of this," the skinny moon-being said.

  "That's why I ran back. But I was too late. That Honest Gjon is a crook,

  yes."

  "So are you," Boba pointed out. "You steal things."

  "Only my fingers steal," said Aia, holding up both webbed hands. "And

  only what I need, yes.

  To prove it, I will help you find Honest Gjon. Not so honest, yes."

  Boba felt a glimmer of hope "Where did he go?" "His shop. He tears

  ships down for parts. So they can't be traced, yes."

  "Then we must hurry," said Boba, jumping to his feet. "Before he

  begins to tear Slave 1 apart. Where is this shop of his?"

  Aia pointed straight up, toward a jagged, spinning moon.

  "Oh, no!" Boba sat back down. "He has taken it to another world."

  "Yes, of course. He thinks you can't follow, yes." "But he's right! I

  can't!"

  "But you can," said Aia. "Come. Come with me, yes." And he took Boba's

  hand and pulled him to his feet.

  "If you were any older or any bigger, this would be a problem, yes,"

  said Aia as he led Boba up the path. "As it is, we may just make it, yes."

  "Make what?" The path twisted and turned up a rocky hill overlooking

  the landing pad.

  "You will see, yes."

  Boba saw - and didn't like what he saw. The path ended at a cliff.

  Boba gripped Aia's big hand and leaned out, looked up, looked down.

  Above, he saw darkness, a few moons, and many stars. Below, he saw only

  darkness.

  He was dizzy again.

  "The gravity waves rise and fall with the moons, yes," said Aia. "If

  you get high enough, and if you know what you are doing, you can ride them.

  Like a bird on the wind, yes."

  All of a sudden, Boba got it. And he didn't like it.

  He backed away from the edge of the cliff, but not fast enough. Aia

  was already stepping off into thin air - and pulling Boba with him.

  Boba was falling.

  Then he wasn't.

  He was rising, soaring, slowly at first and then faster, faster,

  faster. Rising up through the air.

  "You have to ride the vectors, yes," said Aia, whose coat was spread

  wide like a kite, like wings. He squeezed Boba's hand. "When one vector

  gives out, we cross to another, yes."

  Let's hope so, thought Boba.

  Aia pulled Boba with him. They plummeted down, then started to rise

  again.

  They were heavy one moment, weightless the next.

  Boba ignored the lump rising in his throat for as long as he could.

  Then he lost it.

  "Yu-ck!" said Aia. "If I had known you were going to do that... I

  would have... yes..."

  "Sorry," said Boba.

  He was feeling less dizzy. The higher they soared, the easier it got.

  All Boba had to do was hang on to Aia's hand and follow. Other figures

  darted in and out of the clouds. All of them were small like Aia.

  Aia waved at them.

  "We are the couriers, yes," he said to Boba. "We are the only ones

  light enough to travel from world to world. You too, yes. As long as you

  stay with me."

  Don't worry, Boba thought, squeezing Aia's hand. I'm sticking with

  you!

  It was getting cold. Boba looked down. He immediately wished he

  hadn't.

  Bogg 4 was a tiny lump of stone and dust, far away. The stars were too

  bright. It was hard to breathe.

  We're almost in space! Boba thought. We have soared too high!

  "There, Bogg 11, yes," said Aia, pointing up ahead to where a smaller,

  darker moon was about to cross Bogg 4's orbit. Gravity was pulling at both

  moons, tangling their clouds together in long streams, like seaweed.

  "The foam is where the atmospheres brush one another," Aia said. "That

  is where we make the jump, yes."

  "And if we miss..."

  "Space is cold," said Aia. "Eternity is cold. Hang on, hold your

  breath, yes!"

  Boba held his breath. But he couldn't hold on. His fingers were numb

  and stiff with cold. He felt Aia's hand slipping away.

  "No!" cried Boba silently, since there was no air with which to shout

  or scream.

  No air to breathe.

  He closed his eyes. He was spinning, weightless, drifting away into

  The Big Isn't. The nothingness of space. Of death.

  Here I come, Dad, he thought. It was almost a peaceful feeling...

  Then he felt gravity pulling at him like fingers, gently. Slowing his

  spin. Pulling him down.

  Boba could hold his breath no longer. He gulped, expecting the cold

  rip of vacuum in his lungs.

  Instead, he tasted air. It was hardly sweet but it tasted great to

  Boba.

  He opened his eyes.

  Aia had him by the hand again.

  They were soaring in the sky of a different world. A smaller, smokier

  world.

  "Bogg 11, yes," said Aia.

  They circled down toward Bogg 11 in long loops. Boba saw Slave I

  parked in a rocky little valley, surrounded by piles of spaceship parts.

  "Luckily he's just getting started," Aia said. "We made it, yes."

  They landed on the side of a small, steep hill. Boba fell and rolled

  to a stop. He got up, dusted himself off, and started running down a rocky

  path, toward Slave I.

  Honest Gjon saw them coming and stared. "What if he won't give it

  back?" Boba asked.

  He picked up a rock. He wished he had a blaster. "Don't be silly,"

  said Aia. "Put down the rock.

  Thieves have honor, yes?"

  Yes. It seemed so. Sort of, anyway.

  "Can't blame a guy for trying!" said Honest Gjon, throwing up his

  hands. The bearded H'drachi's smile seemed genuine.

  Boba shook his head in exasperation and looked into the cockpit. The

  flight bag was still there. The battle helmet and the black book were

  inside it. Maybe there was honor among thieves after all.

  Boba tried the book, and it opened.

  Money is power.

  Not much help, Boba thought, since l don't have any. He closed the

  book and put it back into the flight bag.

  Honest Gjon was watching Boba's every move.

  "What does it say?"

  "It says you're supposed to give me my money back."

  "No way!" said Honest Gjon. "I fixed your strut, didn't I?"

  "He did, yes," said Aia.

  "Can't blame a guy for trying," said Boba. They all shared a laugh.

  But while Boba laughed, he tried to think of his next move.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Boba found that he liked these outlaws of the moons of Bogden. Crime

  was just a game to them. They were like bounty hunters, in a way.

  "Coruscant's a dangerous place," said Honest Gjon, when Boba told him

  where he was going.

  "And expensive," said Aia. "You have no money, yes?"

  "I have ten credits," said Boba. "I guess that'll have to be enough."

  "There are ways to get money, yes," said Aia. "Such as?"

  "Such as crime," said Honest Gjon. "I happen to know of some mmoney

  being smuggled from Bogg 2 to Bogg 9. A few fellows with a good ship and a

  little luck could take what they needed."'

  "You could be one of those fellows, yes," said Aia.

  Boba was intrigued. Money is power. "You're talking about a hijacking?
/>   A robbery?"

  "An interception," said Honest Gjon. "Not exactly a robbery, since it

  isn't real mmoney, yes. It's counterfeit credits. They are made on Bogg 2,

  then sent by light-air balloons to Bogg 9 when the alignment of the mmoons

  is just right."

  "The atmospheres brush together and the balloons pass from world to

  world," said Aia. "Like we did, yes."

  "A smugglers' trick," said Honest Gjon. "And if we pick off one

  balloon on the way, no one will mmiss it."

  "They will think one just got away, yes," said Aia. "Of course,

  catching it on the fly requires a very good pilot with a very good ship.

  You may be too young, yes."

  "I want a third," said Boba. "When do we go?"

  "In about ten minutes," said Aia. He looked at Honest Gjon and winked.

  "I told you he would do it, yes?"

  From space, Bogg 2 looked like a dry dirt clod, spiked with mountains.

  Boba cruised over slowly, then put Slave l into a slow holding orbit just

  above the atmosphere.

  "No lights, no electrics, no radio," said Honest Gjon. "That way we

  can't be seen. The trick is to try to catch the balloon as it rises. If you

  get close, I will hook it into the hatch."

  "We should let the first one go, so they don't suspect anything, yes,"

  said Aia. "Then grab the next one."

  "Sounds like a plan," said Boba.

  "Look," said Honest Gjon. "Here comes number one."

  He handed Boba a viewfinder. Boba saw a red balloon rising out of a

  mountain valley.

  He handed the viewfinder to Aia. The balloon rose swiftly in the low

  gravity. It streaked past, into the stormy space between the moons. A

  gondola hung below it, packed with bales of credits.

  Money! thought Boba with a grin. Money is power! If only his father

  could see him now. He knew he would be proud.

  "Here it comes," said Honest Gjon. The second balloon was on its way.

  It had an even larger gondola hanging beneath it. Even more money, Boba

  thought.

  Aia tracked it with the viewfinder and then with his naked eye, while

  Boba operated the ship. "Back up a hair, yes. Now forward. Now up, yes.

  Whoa!"

  Honest Gjon opened the ramp and pulled in the balloon. "Got it!"

  "Great," said Boba. "Now let's close the ramp and get out of here."

  "One more," said Aia.

  "I thought two was the plan," said Boba. "They will see us if we stay

  too long. They'll send someone up after us."

  "One mmore can't hurt," said Honest Gjon. He held up a fistful of

  brand-new credit notes.

  Why not? thought Boba. More is better. If the black book didn't say

  that, well, it should!

  He pulled the ship back into place and held it steady, adjusting for

  the varying gravity of the spinning moons.

  "Number three!" said Aia. Honest Gjon went to open the ramp.

  The red balloon was getting closer and closer. Honest Gjon went down

  to open the ramp and pull it in. The gondola underneath it was even bigger

  than the one before.

  More money! More is better, Boba thought, with a grin.

  "O000ps," said Honest Gjon. "Slight problem." "You're all under arrest

  for counterfeiting," said a gruff voice.

  Boba turned and saw Honest Gjon in the doorway. He was not alone.

  Standing beside him was a trooper in a security uniform, holding a blaster.

  Oh, no! thought Boba.

  "It's not our money," said Aia. "It's all a mistake, yes. We'll give

  it back!"

  "Who cares about the money?" said the trooper, with a cruel smile that

  was all teeth. "I'm officially confiscating this ship in the name of the

  law. It's contraband."

  Boba was thinking: No way! Give up Slave I, his father's ship? But

  what could he do with a blaster pointed at his face?

  Then he remembered a trick Jango had taught him.

  "Move over, kid," said the trooper. "And put your hands up where I can

  see them. Now!"

  "Yes, sir." Boba set the power on FULL AHEAD and punched in DELAY 4.

  Then he stood up with his hands over his head and slowly backed away from

  the controls. He counted silently: four, three

  The trooper grinned. "That's better," he said, motioning with his

  blaster toward the open hatch. "Now grab some air, all three of you."

  Two, one

  Boba lunged, grabbing the back of the pilot's seat as the engines

  roared to life and Slave I suddenly sprang forward. The trooper, Aia, and

  Honest Gjon all flew through the air and hit the back wall in a clump.

  WHACK!

  THUMP!

  Boba held onto the seat and threw the ship into a sharp turn. Honest

  Gjon and Aia grabbed the dazed trooper, one on each arm. They dragged him

  to the still-open hatch - and shoved him out!

  Boba grimaced as he brought the ship back under control. "Murder of a

  security trooper. Now we're in big trouble!"

  "He's got a parachute, yes," said Aia.

  "He's no trooper, anyway," said Honest Gjon. "That uniform was as

  counterfeit as the credits. That was a hijacking that failed."

  * * *

  "We did it!" said Boba as he set the ship down on Honest Gjon's

  landing pad. His heart was still pounding, but he had saved Slave I. And

  made some money, too.

  "How many credits do we have?" he asked. "Let's divide them three

  ways, so I can get out of here."

  "That's the bad news, yes," said Aia. "They all flew out the door when

  we shoved him out."

  "All but one," said Honest Gjon. He handed Boba a hundred-credit note.

  "Take it, you deserve it all. And you're going to need it on Coruscant."

  Boba put the money into his pocket with the pathetic little ten. Even

  though he had only made a hundred credits, he felt that Jango Fett would

  have been proud.

  He had found out what he needed to know on the moons of Bogden. He had

  even made a few friends (or, as Jango would have called them, allies. No

  friends, no enemies. Only allies and adversaries).

  Now it was time to head for Coruscant and find Tyranus.

  He shook hands with Honest Gjon, but Aia insisted on giving him a big

  hug. "Boba, continue your quest, yes. But take care. You are too trusting.

  Watch your back, yes?"

  "Yes," said Boba. "Thanks, Aia."

  They hugged again, then Boba got into Slave I and took off. It was

  only after he was in deep space, preparing to shift into hyperdrive, that

  he noticed that the hundred-credit note was missing from his pocket.

  And so was the ten.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  In the endless, intricate web of civilized and half-civilized worlds

  that make up the Galactic Core, some planets are obscure and hard to find.

  And, others are hard to miss.

  Coruscant is in the second category.

  The coordinates are easy to remember and even easier to punch into a

  starship's navigational computer:

  zero zero zero.

  It is here that civilization begins. At the heart of the Core Worlds.

  At the very center of the Known Universe.

  Coruscant. The planet that is a city; the city that is a planet.

  Boba awoke when Slave I shuddered out of hyperdrive and slid into

  normal space.<
br />
  He shook his head to clear it of the dreams that always crowded in

  during hyperspace jumps.

  And there it was. The legendary city planet, covered by pavements and

  roofs, towers and balconies, parks and artificial seas. Coruscant was one

  immense metropolis from pole to pole.

  Not a green spot nor an open field; no wilderness, no forests, no ice

  caps. Coruscant was one enormous planetwide city, covered by slums and

  palaces, parks and plazas. It spun below in all its glory, welcoming Slave

  I as it had welcomed pilgrim and pirate, politician and petitioner,

 

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