Luke, shoveling stony debris into a small rolling cart, smiled—the enigmatic, you’re-so-young expression that Ben found so annoying. “Is that our objective?”
“Of course it is! We have to get out of here to continue our mission.”
“But is it our most immediate goal?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Ben, what is our purpose as Jedi?”
Ben sighed and lowered his pickax. This was going to be one of those conversations. “Well … to keep the Force in balance and to help people stay in balance with the Force. To detect wrongs and make them right. To serve as models for very attractive lines of boots.”
“Let’s go back one. Detecting wrongs and righting them. Is there a wrongness going on here?”
“Absolutely. They’ve kidnapped people. Which we can right by escaping.”
“Is that the only wrong?”
Ben lifted his breath mask for a moment, wiped his sweating face with the sleeve of his overlong Kel Dor robe, and lowered the mask into place again. He exhaled, forcing the helium-rich Dorin atmosphere out of the mask, then took a new breath before answering. “I guess not. These Baran Do are wronging themselves, too. Following a paranoid down into this hole, pretending to be dead—”
“There you go. The Force is an energy of life. These Kel Dors, in pretending to be dead, are rejecting life. They’re unwittingly becoming dead. How much happiness have you seen down here? How much enthusiasm?”
“I’d say it reaches pretty far into the negative numbers. They’re all about duty, but not about happiness.”
Luke shoveled the last of the larger rocks into his cart. “So if we escape now, what happens to them?”
Ben slumped, defeated. “They continue to live their nasty little lives and nothing gets better.”
“Correct.”
“They brought it on themselves.”
“Spoken with all the sympathy and altruism of a teenager who’d rather be doing something else.”
Ben grinned, unabashed. “You’ve got that right.”
In his free time, Ben set out to uncover the cavern’s secrets.
First there was the question of the trigger the Hidden One was supposed to have that would collapse the tunnel leading to the surface. It had been said that the Hidden One could activate it through the Force or by physical action. Ben set out to find out where that trigger was.
When the largest hall was empty, he searched the Hidden One’s throne and the platform it rested on. It took him mere moments to find what he was looking for. The throne, though seemingly cut from a single block of white stone, was not; close examination showed that it was assembled from several pieces, their seams so fine and patterns so well matched that the deception was undetectable by anyone more than a few centimeters away. The right armrest lifted outward on hinges, and beneath it was a single button—round, black, inset in a red depression. That had to be it.
But Ben frowned at the discovery. Would a paranoid mind be content with one easily disabled trigger for his ultimate act?
Ben restored the armrest to its closed position and sat on the platform next to the throne. He dared not sit on the throne itself; the Hidden One, a Force-user, was even more likely to detect that he had been there if he rested in the seat of power.
Ben relaxed, letting the Force flow through him. He thought of nothing but the trigger beside him, seeking anything related to it—images, flashes of insight about the future—
Up.
Ben looked upward. He saw only shadows in the irregular stone ceiling four meters up, but something there had all but called him. He stood, stepped onto the throne armrest he had so recently closed, and sprang upward, giving himself a little boost in the Force.
In the ceiling directly over the throne, his fingers gripped either side of a hole, about the size of a human head, cut into the stone. He hung there a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the reduced light. Then he saw it: a polished durasteel cylinder protruding twenty centimeters from the rock above.
Ben concentrated on it, trying to obtain through the Force some sense of how it worked. He could feel its length, nearly another meter inset in the stone, and machinery above it—simple mechanical parts made of durable metals.
It was simple, all right. Drive the cylinder home, like a plunger, and contact with something above it would relay the signal to detonate the charges in the entry tunnel. Without being able to look at the device, Ben doubted he would be able to disable it. Thoughtful, he dropped back to the platform.
In the hall where he regularly trained in combat against Chara, he found another such apparatus in the ceiling. And in the dormitory where he, Luke, and four male Kel Dors slept, another. The next day, Ben determined that every chamber of any significant size had one of these triggering devices in it. The Hidden One was clearly determined to be able to seal these caverns if he felt the need.
Later that day, Luke joined the audience for combat training. Not many Kel Dors were in attendance. Chara was on hand; Ithia, the female who had been beside Ben’s canister upon his arrival in the caverns, led the proceedings. A Kel Dor male, younger than the others, merely sat and watched.
Ben went a few minutes against Chara, staff against staff. Chara was still far more experienced with the weapon, but Ben was able to defend himself longer and get in more good blows than when he’d first faced Charsae Saal.
Next, Ithia took the combat ring against Chara. They were obviously opponents of many years’ acquaintance, for Ithia immediately matched her combat style to Chara’s. Ithia was more fluid and evasive, Chara more aggressive and direct; the contrast was a pretty one, and Ben enjoyed watching the proceedings.
Luke spoke to the young Kel Dor observing the sparring. “I’m Luke Skywalker.”
The youth glanced at him, uncomfortable. “I am Wyss.”
“You’re younger than most of the Kel Dor here.”
Wyss nodded, his attention back on Ithia and Chara. He unconsciously leaned away from Luke as if hoping the man would just leave him alone.
“Will you be training?”
Wyss shook his head. “I am not a sage. I am a servant.”
“But you could still learn. You’re obviously interested.”
“ ‘As in life, so in death.’ ”
That statement, so obviously a quote, so evidently a tolerated rather than a welcome philosophy if Wyss’s tone was any indication, drew Ben’s attention. He turned to watch his father and the Kel Dor.
Luke frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means that in death, you should be content with preserving the skills you had in life, but should not worry about acquiring new ones.”
“That’s the custom here?” Wyss nodded again.
Luke turned away from the boy, obviously deliberating what he had just heard. Ben returned his attention to the practice.
Ultimately, Chara won each of his three matches against Ithia. When they were done, Ithia laughed. “I am out of practice, Charsae—Chara.”
Chara gave her what, among the Kel Dors, must have been considered a sympathetic smile. “I think so. In the old days, you would have had at least two of those matches.” He turned to Luke. “Will you be sparring?”
Luke shook his head. “Not today. Too sore from shoveling. Tomorrow, perhaps.”
“I look forward to it.” Moments later, Chara and Ithia departed, headed for the sanisteam, and Wyss followed them out, leaving Luke and Ben alone.
Ben gave his father a suspicious look. “Too sore from shoveling?”
“Perhaps too sick of shoveling would have been more correct. Ben, they just gave us the answers we needed here.”
“Did they? The servant, Wyss?”
“He had one of them, and Ithia the other.” Luke stood. “I need to get word to the Hidden One. I’d like for all the Kel Dor in these caverns to be present for our renaming ceremony.”
Ben stood. “We’re choosing new names?”
“No.”
“O
h. That’s sad. I was looking forward to being Sparky.”
“Sounds like a name for a monkey-lizard.”
“And you could be Grand Master Whango Mittphool.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
They gathered in the Hidden One’s throne chamber, four dozen Kel Dors and two humans. As the last of the Kel Dors, servants who operated the foundries, arrived, conversation dropped off and all Kel Dors turned toward the Hidden One on his throne.
He gestured toward the Skywalkers, motioning them to approach. As they did, he offered them a benevolent smile. “It is with whole heart that I greet you this day. I understand that you have determined to choose new names, the better to make your way among us, the better to accept your circumstances.”
Luke looked surprised. “I’m sorry, great one. There has been some misunderstanding. I did ask for a naming ceremony. I did refer to it as our naming ceremony, but I did not mean that Ben and I would be renaming ourselves. It is my hope that we will be renaming some—or all—of you.”
Exclamations of surprise and disapproval filled the room then. Ben kept his face impassive, but inwardly he was smiling. Much as he liked causing trouble from time to time, it was just as much fun watching his father do it.
The Hidden One’s expression darkened. “You have wasted my time.”
Luke shrugged. “What do the dead have except time? And admit it, as annoying as you find my words, this is the most interesting event you are going to experience all day.”
The Hidden One sat back, clearly not amused. “And who were you going to rename first?”
“I thought, great one, that we would start with Chara. Restore his name of Charsae Saal. He was the one most recently named. We could go in reverse order, from the newest one who joined the dead to the oldest.”
The Hidden One sagged just a little as if dispirited. “Why are you doing this?”
Luke abandoned all pretense at good cheer. He drew himself up straight and fixed the Hidden One with a forbidding stare. “Because you’re wrong. And if you were only wronging yourself, that would not be so bad. But you are wronging every one of them as well.” His sweeping gesture took in all the assembled Kel Dors.
“I have accepted their sacrifice as a gift to future generations. They knew what they were doing as they offered their oaths and took their new names. There is no wrongdoing.”
“Again, you’re wrong.” Luke sprang onto the Hidden One’s throne platform, eliciting a gasp of outrage from some of the Baran Do. He began pacing as he talked, crossing back and forth in front of the Hidden One, addressing all the Kel Dors before the platform. “Let’s answer some simple questions. The Baran Do Sages are a group who study and utilize the Force. Correct?”
The Kel Dors looked between Luke and the Hidden One. Ben saw the Hidden One pause and then nod. One of the Baran Do toward the front of the crowd said, “Yes.”
“And the Force is the energy of life.”
Another Kel Dor said, “Yes.”
Luke spared an admonishing look for the Hidden One as he passed. “Life is risk. Life is energy, vitality. Yet you have rejected these things. In rejecting them, you reject the Force. In rejecting the Force, you deprive yourself of the right to teach its ways to the living. You have brought nothing to these caverns but your own bodies, and even then, you don’t have the decency to start moldering like ordinary corpses.”
Many of the Kel Dors looked offended, including Chara. He stepped toward the platform, moving to the front of the audience. “Now you’re just being insulting.”
“Which angers you, because you’re approximately still among the living.” Luke stared down at him. “The dead don’t take offense, Charsae Saal.”
“My name is Chara.”
Luke hopped down and brushed past Chara. He walked to Ithia. “Here is a woman who used to beat you consistently in combat, Charsae Saal. Now she is no longer your match. What has happened? Has she grown feeble with age?”
Chara shrugged. “Of course not. She does not train as much down here.”
“Why not?”
“There is less need.”
“Of course there is no need.” Luke walked through the crowd; the Kel Dors stood aside to let him pass. “Thinking you’re dead, knowing that you have no future, leaches all energy and hope from you. Drains your very life away. Diminishes you in the Force. How can you even feel a need?”
Luke came to a stop in front of Wyss. “And here we have a boy who gave up his life on the surface to serve you in this place. And what do you give him besides food, water, and the opportunity to serve? Not much. No chance to learn, to improve himself, to grow. Growth is for living things. Here, it’s ‘As in life, so in death.’ ”
One of the Masters, a male Kel Dor even more wizened than the Hidden One, his name Burra, spoke up. “We have debated the philosophy you mention.”
Luke turned a cheerful, if mocking, smile on Burra. “Good for you! Debate would seem to be a good thing for dead people to do. It would keep the cemeteries lively. And how did your vote turn out?”
Burra looked uncomfortable. “Here, we do not vote.”
“Because your lord of the dead decides everything.”
Burra hesitated, then nodded.
“Those of you who debated, did the majority support letting the dead learn new things?”
“Enough.” The Hidden One rose to his feet. “This gathering is at an end. Everyone is to return to his duties.”
“Your duty is to the living,” Luke shot back, “and you’ve already abandoned that. Why not abandon it for five more minutes?” He gestured toward the exit, and the blast door there slid closed. The Kel Dors already heading toward it hesitated, confused, and turned back toward the throne.
“You want to save the Baran Do teachings,” Luke said. “A noble goal. You want to be prepared in case another purge comes. A good thing to do. Koro Ziil, do you know how the Jedi survived the last purge?”
“That is no longer my name.”
“Do you know?”
“By luck, two Jedi survived. Your Masters, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda.”
“No.” Luke shook his head. “Of course, they did survive those events. But there were other Jedi and former Jedi out in the galaxy. There were resources like the Jedi Holocron. The Jedi survived because they were scattered, their knowledge disseminated throughout the galaxy. You Baran Do plan to survive by concentrating. Few of you ever leave Dorin in the first place, and your backup plan, this series of caves, is just one toxic bomb or groundquake away from extinction. I applaud your goal … but your execution is bound for inevitable failure.”
There was muttering among the Kel Dors present. Ben had the sense that it was not the conversation of people just waking up to a fact, but among people who had voiced these objections many times before, quietly and futilely, in the face of a ruler who opposed their view.
“And those would be lucky ways for you to die,” Luke continued. “Fast and decisive. It’s more likely that most of you will just wither away. Like Ithia there.” Luke turned in a slow circle, making eye contact with as many of the Kel Dors as he could. “Who is your best fighter?”
One said, “Ithia.” Two or three, including Ithia, said “Chara.”
Luke nodded. “Charsae Saal, because he has decades of experience. And because, having only recently come here, he is not a listless, lifeless reflection of his former self. But he has still been fading for years. He’s been preparing himself for death all that time. My bet is that he’s a shadow of his former self. And that my son, his junior in experience by many, many years, can take him.”
Ben froze, trying desperately not to look like a woodland creature caught in the spotlight beams of an oncoming speeder. Aware of numerous Kel Dors now looking at him, he offered them a scowl, a tough-guy posture.
“And what is it that you bet?” The Hidden One was seated on his throne again. His voice was cold.
“If Ben fails, I abandon the subject for as long as I live in thes
e caverns.”
“Very well.” The Hidden One waved at Chara. “Do it.”
Chara nodded, decisive. “Yes, Master.”
The Kel Dors drew back from the center of the chamber, leaving the area ringed by columns empty but for Chara, Ben, and Luke.
Ben turned to his father. “You’re doing it to me again,” he whispered.
“I am, aren’t I? I’m a terrible dad.” Luke gave him a reassuring smile. “You’ll do fine.”
“What if I lose?”
“Two things. First, you’ll still demonstrate to all these people just what it’s like to be alive. Second, I promised that I’d abandon the subject … not that you would.”
“Hey, you are sneaky.”
“Besides, you won’t lose. Unlike them, you have something to fight for.”
Ben handed Luke his lightsaber.
Luke looked at the weapon. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not going to convince anybody of the value of life by cutting him in half. Win or lose, I’m doing it without my lightsaber.”
Luke nodded and withdrew to the circle of pillars.
Ithia presented Ben with a staff, a meter and a half of hardwood—gnarled, black, and polished. Then she withdrew as well.
Ben and Chara faced each other from opposite sides of the open space.
Luke leaned against the nearest pillar, trying to look relaxed but feeling no more nonchalant this time than during the fight Ben had waged their first night on Dorin.
Ben faced his opponent, features set in the neutral expression he always assumed when he didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking or feeling. Chara’s eyes were on the Hidden One.
The Hidden One looked at the two opponents, made a little expression of displeasure, and said, “Go.”
Ben and Chara moved toward each other. When about a meter and a half separated them, they began circling.
Chara lashed out, the lower end of his staff flashing up toward Ben’s groin. Ben reacted almost too late, parrying awkwardly. Chara responded with reflexive speed, striking down at Ben’s collarbone with the other end of his weapon. Ben caught that blow, too, interposing his own staff mere centimeters from his skin; the blow hammered Ben’s weapon down into his flesh. It staggered him, and as he stumbled backward, Chara swept with his staff, catching Ben’s ankle and hurling him to the stone.
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