by John Whitman
He's in shock. I would be too if I'd lost an arm and a leg.
An arm . . . and a leg?
"Ready for lunch?"
Zak hadn't noticed Galt approach. "What?"
"Food. The smugglers asked for more food, but now they're all gone. Do
you want some more?"
A heavy weight settled into the pit of Zak's stomach. "More stew?"
"Well, there's more stew cooking," Galt said. "But we have something
better."
The skeletal man licked his lips. "A nice, beefy leg."
"A leg!" Zak shrieked.
Galt stepped back. "Yes. We found a dragonsnake nest and killed one of
the young ones before the mother returned. It is cooking in my hut now. If
you want some, we'll bring it out in just a minute."
"Um, no," Zak said. "No thanks."
Galt put a hand on Zak's shoulder and squeezed. "Are you sure? You
haven't eaten since you and your friends arrived. You'll get as thin as me
if we don't fatten you up."
Chuckling to himself, Galt walked away.
Zak shuddered. What he was thinking couldn't be true. But he had to
find out.
As casually as possible, Zak walked through the little village. Galt's
home was just at the edge of the gathered huts, shadowed by gnarltrees. When
the Children found food, the hut was converted into a kitchen. Smoke rose
from a hole cut into the roof. Pale-skinned Children wandered in and out of
the hut, licking their lips and carrying bowls of food.
Zak didn't want to be seen.
He turned aside and walked out of the village clearing and into the
swamp. As soon as he was among the trees, he splashed through a shallow,
slimy pool, scrambled over the roots of a thick plant, and found himself in
back of the cooking hut.
Zak scrambled up the thick roots of a gnarltree, then shinnied his way
out on a branch that hung over the hut. His weight caused the branch to
bend, carrying him close to the roof, and he dropped off as gently as
possible. The roof, made of gnarlwood branches and leaves, sagged under his
weight, but held.
Carefully, Zak inched toward the hole in the roof. Holding his breath
and blinking against the smoke that rose out of the hole, Zak peeked over
the edge and looked down into the hut.
He was looking down on a pot of bubbling stew, just like the stew Galt
had offered him. One of the Children acted as cook, standing over it and
stirring and adding things to the mix, as Galt looked on.
"Food," the cook was crooning. "I've never eaten so much in my life."
"None of us have," Galt said. "We haven't eaten this well since the
parents died."
The cook patted her stomach. "I've thought of that last meal for years.
But this is even better. Our luck has changed."
"Thanks to the strangers," said Galt.
"Is the stew ready?" Galt asked. "Check it."
The cook used a large wooden spoon to scoop out a taste of broth. She
held it a few centimeters away from her face, blowing to cool it. As she
blew, something swirled around in the spoon. Zak squinted to see it more
clearly. Then he felt his stomach heave up into his throat.
Floating in the broth was a human finger.
CHAPTER 15
The finger bobbed up and down as the cook brought the spoon to her lips
and sipped the broth.
"Perfect," said the cook. "This one tastes much better than the first."
"He was tough," Galt agreed. "But maybe that's why they chose him to be
the guard that night. He was even hard to kill."
The cook sighed. "It's too bad we couldn't get his head. I think that
would have tasted good."
Zak's knuckles were white. He clenched his teeth together, trying to
keep from throwing up.
He suddenly realized why the Children had started finding food just
after their arrival.
The smuggler on guard duty had been killed, and soon the Children had
prepared a feast.
The next smuggler had gone down in the spider battle. Then the Children
had cooked more food.
Traut had been wounded. His arm had been cut off, and then his leg.
Each time, the Children had cooked more food.
The Children were eating people.
Zak tried to remember the first time Galt had offered him food. That
had been before the first smuggler's death. The Children had meat then,
didn't they? But no one had died.
Wrong, Zak remembered. None of the newcomers had died. But one of the
Children had been killed by Platt. Zak recalled how Galt had licked his
lips, staring at the body.
They had eaten one of their own people.
Zak stared in horrible fascination at the two cannibals. When he felt
something wriggling close to his skin, he nearly jumped.
Something bit him on the hip and he cried out in pain. It was the meat
flower that he'd put in his pocket. Lying down on the roof had nearly
crushed it, and the flower was biting him. Zak struggled to free it from his
pocket.
His movements were too much for the roof. It creaked. He heard branches
snap a moment before the roof gave in; then he plunged down into the hut. He
hit the muddy floor right at Galt's feet and the impact knocked the wind out
of him.
Galt looked down at him, his pale face changing from fear to pleasure
as he spoke: "Dinner."
A few minutes later, Zak found himself locked inside a makeshift cage
against one wall of the hut. There were other cages next to his. He couldn't
tell how many-the room was lit only by the cooking fire, and that was on the
other side of the hut, casting shadows on his end. Zak grabbed hold of the
wooden bars and shook.
Galt laughed. "The cage is made from gnarltree roots. Not strong enough
to hold dragonsnakes, but strong enough to hold you. Now I have to make sure
your friends are still out looking for the girl. I'll be back." Still
laughing, Galt left the hut.
Zak moved slowly. If he moved too quickly, the meat flower, still
crammed into his pocket, would bite him again. He had tried to pull it out,
but it had nipped at his fingers. As long as he didn't jerk around too much,
it didn't bother him.
Slowly, Zak reached for the bars and gave them a hard shake.
"It won't do any good."
The voice was low and rough, and came from the shadows of the cage next
to Zak's.
"Who's there?" Zak asked. The voice wasn't Hoole's, nor did it belong
to Platt, Tru'eb, or any of the other smugglers. But it was familiar
somehow. He could see someone crouching in the back of the cage, mostly
covered by shadows. "Who's there?" he asked again.
No response.
Zak leaned closer, but he still couldn't make out the prisoner's face.
He looked around, and spotted something tucked in a far corner of the hut.
It was a gray helmet, battered and worn. Zak had seen that helmet several
times before. Only one person in the galaxy wore a helmet like that.
"Boba Fett," he whispered.
The prisoner did not respond.
Zak shook his head in disbelief. He tried to see through the gloom to
look at Boba Fett's face, but the shadows were too thick. "I can't believe<
br />
they caught you."
The shadowy prisoner spoke. "Who are they?"
Zak said told Fett what he knew-about the original survey team, and the
crashed rescuers, and the children they had tried to raise on the swamp
planet.
"How did they catch you?" he asked the bounty hunter, still barely
believing he was actually speaking to Boba Fett.
A grunt came from the shadows. "I arrived on Dagobah. I was tracking
you. A dragonsnake was tracking me. Difficult to kill."
Zak didn't know if the bounty hunter meant himself or the dragonsnake.
Fett continued. "Lost consciousness. Woke up in here."
"The Children must have found you in the swamp and brought you here.
You know they're cannibals, right?"
Fett shrugged.
"You don't look too concerned," Zak said. "They'll eat you, too."
Fett shook his head.
Zak snorted. "Why not? You're the one in the cage."
Fett's voice was hard as durasteel. "Before they eat me, they have to
come in here and get me."
As if answering his challenge, Galt and the cook returned. "Your
friends are still gone," Galt said happily.
"Galt, let me out of here," Zak said, rattling his cage again. "You
can't do this."
"Why not?" Galt's face looked completely innocent.
"You can't just eat other human beings. That's cannibalism!"
"It is food," Galt said simply. "And we are hungry."
"There's other food! We'll help you catch it."
Beside Galt, the cook patted his stomach. "Not food like this. Food
that saved our lives. Food like the parents gave us."
"What?"
Galt nodded. "We were all very young. For a long time, we ate the food
saved from the crashed ship. But the parents were dying from the swamp
fever. The machines that kept the food fresh lost power, and the food
spoiled. Then it was gone. We were hungry."
"Very hungry," the cook said.
"I remember crying for food. Any food. We cried for days. The parents
cried, too. Then they found food for us."
Zak shuddered. He knew what Galt would say next.
"They fed us flesh from the parents who were dying from the swamp
fever."
Zak felt his stomach turn over again. He recalled the holographic video
they'd seen. He remembered the sick, dying woman, crying as she said, "We've
gotten so hungry..."
The Children were eating the same flesh they'd eaten when they were
young, when their parents had last fed them.
"You can't do this," he repeated. "Cannibalism is-"
"I don't know that word," Galt said. "The words I know best are
'hunger' and 'food.' I am hungry," he said as he opened the door to Zak's
cage, "and you are food."
CHAPTER 16
Galt and the cook grabbed Zak by the shoulders and dragged him from the
cage. The meat flower, disturbed by the jerky movement, lashed out again,
and Zak winced, doubling over in pain.
The Children, thinking he was trying to resist, hauled him to his feet
again.
"Remove his head," Galt said. "Then we can drain the blood before
cutting the slices."
The cook let go of Zak to reach for the sharp piece of ship's hull they
used as a knife. As she did, Zak pulled his hand free and jammed it into his
pocket. The meat flower bit into his hand, but Zak was counting on that. He
ripped his hand back out of his pocket with the meat flower still attached,
and flung it toward Galt.
As he snapped his hand, the meat flower came loose and slapped into
Galt's face-flower, roots, and mudpack all at once. The meat-eating plant
sank its teeth into the man's cheek.
Zak moved without thinking. He turned to the cook and shoved her. The
cook stumbled backward and crashed into the bubbling pot of stew.
Zak dove for the corner where Boba Fett's armor was stacked. He
scrambled to his feet holding the bounty hunter's blaster just as Galt tore
the meat flower off his face and the cook regained her feet, the knife still
clutched in her hand.
Zak frantically searched the weapon. He found the power setting and
adjusted it for stun just as the cook charged. The stun bolt caught her
squarely in the chest and she crumpled. The second blast dropped Galt in his
tracks.
In the momentary silence that followed, Zak heard Fett's cold voice.
"You wasted time setting for stun. You should have killed them."
Zak looked down at the two skeletal figures. He thought he ought to
hate them. They had killed at least two people and had tried to kill him.
They were cannibals.
But all Zak felt was pity.
The Children had survived for years in the dangerous, desolate swamp.
They had eaten fungus to survive. Their last memory of their parents was a
nightmarish meal.
But it was all that they knew.
"They deserve to die," the bounty hunter said from the shadows.
"No," Zak said, speaking the words Yoda had spoken. "They thought we
were food. I taught them otherwise."
"Give me my armor."
Zak hesitated. Considering how Boba Fett had tried to kill them,
returning the bounty hunter's armor and weapons might be the most dangerous
thing Zak could do. But he needed help and right now Boba Fett was his only
choice.
Zak gathered up Boba Fett's gear and carried it over to the cage. Fett
stretched one arm out from the shadows and grabbed his weapons belt. A
moment later, a small fusion cutter glowed brightly and cut cleanly through
the wooden bars.
"Helmet."
Zak pushed the helmet and armor through the hole in the cage, and the
bounty hunter pulled them into the shadows.
A moment later, Boba Fett stepped into the half-light cast by the fire.
Without asking, he pulled the blaster rifle from Zak's hands.
The other Children had heard the struggle. Zak could hear footsteps and
shouting from outside the hut. "Now what?" he asked Fett.
"Tactical retreat." The bounty hunter raised his arm and pointed his
wrist rockets at the back wall of the hut. There was a crackling sound and a
spark shot out, signaling a short circuit. "Moisture damage," Fett muttered.
He made a quick adjustment and fired again.
This time the wrist rocket blasted through the back of the hut. Not
waiting for the smoke to clear, Fett grabbed Zak around the waist and
plunged through the opening into the swamp.
"Weapons malfunctioning," the bounty hunter said. He dropped Zak, who
ran at his side through ankle-deep pools of water. "Need a place to hole up
until I can run a check."
"Your ship?" Zak asked.
"Too far. These Children know the swamp too well."
Fett was right. Already the Children were in pursuit. Some of them were
closing in from behind. Zak had the sense that others were trying to sprint
ahead on either side.
"I know somewhere we can go," Zak said.
"Lead," Fett ordered.
Zak swerved to his left. Twice before, he'd met Yoda while traveling in
that direction. With any luck, the third time would be the charm.
Zak was no more certain of his path this time than the last-unti
l he
found himself running through the remains of the spider battle.
"It's around here somewhere," he said, although he didn't know exactly
what he was looking for.
"There," Fett said. The bounty hunter pushed his way through a curtain
of hanging vines.
On the far side, Zak saw a tiny round hut. Not far from the hut, he
could see Tash and Yoda. They were sitting at the base of a huge, dark
gnarltree. Among the thick roots of the tree, Zak saw a large hole.
Yoda looked up as if he'd been expecting them all along. "Welcome."
Zak ran forward. Fett strode up behind, his helmeted head scanning the
area. He peered down into the hole to make sure nothing was hiding there,
then turned toward the others as Zak was telling Tash about the Children.
