Part 21 (1/2)
Anakin glared fiercely at Q9. ”You shouldn't say mean things about Artoo,” he said, then hopped down off his chair and stalked out of the room. ”Nice going, Q9,” Jacen said. ”I'll go bring him back.” Jacen got up and went after his little brother.
”I am pleased that young Master Jacen thinks I expressed myself well.”
Ebrihim turned toward his a.s.sistant. ”I suspect,” he said, ”that you have not quite mastered the concept of sarcasm.
* * The lights were dim when Han woke up in the cell. There was a dull, throbbing pain at the base of his skull and a foul taste in his mouth.
Why in the world had this Human League crowd s.n.a.t.c.hed him up off the street? The only thing he could think of was that a hero of the Rebel Alliance might not be the most popular sort of person in a group that probably had Imperial sympathies. But even that idea didn't hold water. He was missing something.
Han looked around, and saw that there was nothing in the cell but the dank cot he was sitting on and a bucket in the corner. Somehow it didn't look like the room was being used as originally intended. Rather, he was in what looked to be a converted bas.e.m.e.nt storeroom. Well, purpose-built or not, the cell was impossible for him to get out of all the same.
Han had been in enough cells enough times that he was not particularly terrified by being thrown in yet another one.
He was safe in the cell. It was when they came for him that the trouble would start.
It was at the precise moment that he had that happy thought that the lights came on, blindingly bright, and the door swung open. Han stumbled to his feet, struggling to force his eyes to adjust. By the time he could see clearly, Barriley, Flautis, and a third man, whose insignia appeared to show him to be of higher rank, were in the cell, peering at him intently. ”Well, boys,” the third man said. ”I can see why you did it, and you were right to do it. It could have been a trick, but it turns out it wasn't. Turn him loose.”
”But-” Flautis protested.
”Orders,” the third man interrupted. ”From way up, if you know what I mean.”
”From the Hidden Leader?” Bamley asked, something like awe in his voice.
The third man merely nodded, as if his meaning were obvious.
”Well,” Flautis said, immediately chastened. ”Okay then.”
Han turned toward the third man to ask what was going on, but he never got the chance. It was only as he was about to speak that he realized that he had put his back to Bamley again.
The blow on the back of his head didn't feel any better this time.
The universe went dark again.
It was evening, getting on toward night, and Leia could not decide whether to be angry or worried. Either Han was off having such a good time with some old cronies that he had forgotten to call home, or else he was in trouble. The governorgeneral's hovercar was supposed to be calling for them in a half hour.
It was then that she heard the sound of a hovercar coming in. Could the GovernorGeneral's car be early? She went to the window and looked up into the sky-and knew instantly, by the way that hovercar was coming in, hard, fast, without running lights, that it was not the governorgeneral or anyone else come to pay a social call. The CDF security teams had installed panic b.u.t.tons throughout the house. A tap on any of them would call the guards to red-alert status.
There was one by the window, and Leia reached to slap it down.
There it was! The hovercar droleP~~:u~f th~~~~gi~ sky three hundred meters shy o of its repulsors throwing strange and s.h.i.+fting shadows on the narrow country road. The hovercar b.u.mped once hard as it landed A rear door popped open, and a large, indistinct' shape was 'dumped out. Almost before it came to a halt, the hovercar had bounced back up into the sky and away irounded Guards rushed forward from the villa and surounded the new arrival. Kalenda grabbed her macrobinoculars and zoomed in close. 5 w that it was The figure lurched to its feet, and she a Han Solo looking very much the worse for wear. ood Kalen(ia swore to herself. This was not good. Not good at all Someone was sending another message, and even if she could not read it, it clearly was not meant to be friendly.
Things were beginning to go sour.
It was a quiet evening, Kalenda told herself, but things were most likely to happen when it was quiet. And then she heard it, the low whirring sound of a hovercar coming in on its repulsorlifts.
Suddenly the night was full of the sound of blaring alarnis, and the grounds of the Chief of State's villa were flooded with light. Guards scrambled for position. Kalenda ignored it all and scanned the sky for the intruder.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
Conversation by Torchlight Dinner was done, and it had not been a cheerful affair.
Getting Han patched up from his injuries had put them behind schedule, but they had turned what was meant to be a social occasion into something closer to a council of war.
Nor had the noise from outside helped matters. Despite being six floors up, despite the soundproofing in Corona House, the GovernorGeneral's official residence, the shouting and the singing of the demonstrators were too loud to ignore. Now they had retired to the Governor-General's private study, and from here the sound was even louder.
They had given up all pretense of not hearing it. Instead they watched the proceedings from the study's window, the lights in the room low both to make it easier to see, and harder to be seen. The windows were supposed to be blasterproof, but there was no sense taking chances.
The flames of the flickering torches lit their faces as they watched the march of the thugs.
Governor-General Micamberlecto stared through the window, looking mournfully down at the spectacle below.
”There they are,” he said. ”Again tonight. And I dare not, dare not, call in the Corellia Defense Forces or the Public Safety Service. I am not even sure they are on my side anymore. Indeed, I am nearly sure they are no longer with me. If I called them, they might just join in.
He sighed and leaned his spindly shoulder against the edge of the window frame as he watched the rowdy demonstration below. To Leia the sound of his sigh was the saddest part of it all. It was such a tired sound, so full of resignation and frustrated hopes that were no longer even worth recalling. That one little sigh told her there was no real hope at all.
Leia and Han stood next to Micamberlecto, watching as well. Gray wisps of smoke still hung in the air, and the effigy of Micamberlecto was still smoldering, though by now it was so trodden upon as to be scarcely recognizable.
The demonstrators, all of them humans, nearly all of them men, were carrying torches as they marched in a circle around Corona House. The torches let off their own smoke as well, and it hung heavy in the windless air, draining the color from everything, making the night seem darker than it truly was. Those who did not have torches had placards and signs with anti-Drall and anti-Selonian slogans.
The singing-if you could call it singing-started up again, louder this time. The lyrics were coa.r.s.e, obscene, and quite distinctly not supportive of the New Republic.
The song reached its climax, the demonstrators bellowed out the last and most graphically offensive line, and then cheered for themselves.
”They'll go on, go on that way for quite a while yet,” said Micamberlecto. He spoke Basic with hardly a trace of accent, but with one or two patterns of Frozian grammar and word order-most noticeably the tendency to repeat a phrase for emphasis. ”They will march for a bit longer, a bit longer,” the Governor-General went on, ”but for all intents and purposes, I expect that's the end of the show.
Not much more to see that you have not seen already.
They'll sing and shout slogans, and get drunk and start some fights and break some windows, and drift off to wherever they come from-until the next time. The next time. But I doubt the streets will be safe tonight.” Micamberlecto shook his head mournfully. ”I am afraid you did not pick, did not pick, the ideal spot for your vacation.” Micamberlecto was a Frozian, and the Frozians were not known for their cheerful outlook. No one could doubt their probity, honesty, or diligence, but they were a somewhat melancholy race. Still, there did not seem to be much to be optimistic about at the moment. ”It doesn't look good,' Leia said.
'No, it does not,” Micamberlecto agreed as he turned away from the window and sat back down at his oversized desk. He was a typical Frozian-tall, gangly, a scarecrow of a figure, a third again as tall as Han. Frozians were a fairly standard hominid species, if a rather elongated one. The extra joint in their arms and legs made their movements a bit offputting at first. To human eyes, the Frozians looked to have had all their arms and legs broken. To see Micamberlecto folded up in a chair, with his arms crossed-and recrossed through the second elbows-was a strange sight indeed.
Micamberlecto had short, golden-brown fur over his entire body. He had no noticeable external ears, and his deep brown eyes were set wide apart. His nose was on the end of his prominent muzzle. His mouth was small and lipless, as if it decided there was no sense even attempting to compete with that magnificent nose. Long, black whiskers grew from either side of his muzzle, forming a sort of enormous spiky mustache that grew past the sides of his head. He wiggled his nose thoughtfully, and the whiskers bounced up and down vigorously.
Is it always this bad?” Han asked.
”Yes and no,” Micamberlecto said. ”Mind you, even now, tonight, no doubt ninety-five percent of the city of Coronet is quiet and calm. Four blocks from here, perhaps no one knows that there has been another demonstration.
But it used to be that I would a.s.sure visitors that ninetynine percent of the city was calm. Things are getting worse, coming to a head. I wish to Froz we could cancel the trade summit. But too late.
Too late. Delegates are already on their way, and we in the New Republic cannot, cannot afford any f u,rther loss of face here in Corellia Sector.
No, we cannot.
”I'm afraid I agree with you, friend Micamberlecto,” Leia said, talking over her shoulder as she watched the torchlight procession wend its way around the building.