Han Solo And The Lost Legacy Part 2

"Who? What do we need him for?" Han was reluctant to involve too many in this treasure hunt. "His name is Skynx; he's a ranking expert on pre-Republic times in this part of s.p.a.ce. And he reads ancient languages; he's already deciphered some characters Lanni had copied from the log-recorder disk. Good enough for you?" Conditionally. Somebody, Han saw, would have to decipher the disk to find out what had happened to the Queen. Removing his vest, Han began disenc.u.mbering himself of the shoulder holster. "Next question who's the - opposition?"

The mine operators. You know how the Tion works. Somebody pays someone in the Ministry of Industry and gets a permit. The mining outfit carves up the terrain any which way, grabs what it can, and gets out long before any inspectors or legal paperwork catch up with them. They usually get their financing from some crime boss.

"This outfit's run by twins. The woman's name is J'uoch and her brother's Wall. They have a partner, Egome Fa.s.s, their enforcer. He's a big, mean humanoid, a Houk, even taller than Chewie there. All three came up the hard way, and that's how they play. Han had buckled on his gunbelt and holster and transferred his blaster. "So I saw. And all you want is for us to get you to Dellalt and get you off?" Just then the intercom carried the Wookiee's news that someone was signaling for permission to board. "That'll be Skynx," Badure told him. Han pa.s.sed word to admit the academician.

"If you'll get us to the vaults and off Dellalt again;" Badure resumed, "I'll pay you twice your usual first-asking price, out of the treasure. But if you throw in with us, you and the Wook can split a full share of the take." Hasti cried, "Half-share!" just as Han protested, "Full share each!" They glared at each other. "Wound up a little too tight are we, sweetheart?" Han asked. "How're you going to get there without us, flap your arms?" He heard Chewbacca's footsteps moving toward the main hatch. Hasti's temper flared. "For one hop, you and that furball want a full cut?" Badure held up his hands and bellowed, "Enough! " They quieted. "That's nicer, kiddies. We are discussing major cash here, plenty for everybody. The breakdown's this way a full share for me because I got Hasti off Dellalt alive and Lanni pa.s.sed what she knew along to both of us, equally. Two shares for Hasti, her own and poor Lanni's. And for you, Skynx, and the Wook, half-shares each at this point. Depending on who has to do what in the course of finding that treasure, we renegotiate. Agreed?" Han studied Badure and the seething red-haired girl. "How much are we talking about?" he wanted to know. The old man inclined his head. "Why not ask him?" Badure indicated the individual who had come onboard and was following Chewbacca into the forward compartment. Now why did 1 a.s.sume he d be human? Han wondered was a Ruurian, of average size-a little over a meter long-low to the ground, his natural coat a thick, woolly amber with bands of brown and red. He moved on eight pairs of short limbs with a graceful, rippling motion.

Feathery, bobbing antennae curled back from his head. Skynx had big,.

multifaceted red eyes, a tiny mouth, and small nostrils. Behind him rolled a baggage-robo with several crates and boxes on its flatbed. Skynx paused and reared up on his last four pairs of extremities. The digits on his. limbs, four apiece, were mutually opposable, deft, and very versatile. He waved to the humans. "Ah, Badnre, " he called in a rapid; high-pitched voice, "and the lovely Hasti; how are you, young lady? This fine Wookiee I've already met. So you would be our captain, sir?"

"Would be? I am. Han Solo."

"Delighted! I am Skynx of Ruuria, Human History subdepartment, preRepublic subdivision; whose chair I currently hold. "

"What do you use it for?" Han asked, eying Skynx's strange anatomy.

Seeing no reason to delay where cash was concerned, he inquired, "How much money are we after?" Skynx poised his head in thought. "There's so much conflicting information about the Queen of Ranroon; it's best to say this Xim the Despot's treasure vessel was the largest ship ever built in her day. Your guess, sir, is no less plausible than my own." Han leaned back and thought about pleasure palaces, gambling planets, star yachts, and all the women of the galaxy who hadn't been fortunate enough to make his acquaintance. Yet. Chewbacca snorted and returned to the c.o.c.kpit.

"Count us in," Han announced. "Tell the baggage clunker _ to leave your stuff right there, Skynx. Badure, Hasti, make yourselves at home. "

Hasti and Skynx both wanted to watch the liftoff from the c.o.c.kpit. When they were alone, Badure spoke more confidentially. "There's one thing I didn't want the others to hear, Han. I had my ear to the ground, heard about some of the crazy jobs you've pulled. Word's out that somebody's looking for you. Money's being spread around, but I haven't heard any names. Any idea who it might be?"

"Half the galaxy, it feels like sometimes. " There had been many runs,, many deals, jobs, and foul-ups. "How should I know?" But his expression hardened, and Badure thought Han had a very good idea who might be seeking him. Han stood in the middle of the forward compartment, listening. The tech station and most of the other equipment in the compartment had been shut down to lower the noise level, He could feel the vibrations of the Millennium Falcon's engines. He heard a quiet sound behind him. Han spun, crouching, in execution of the speedraw, firing from the hip. The target-remote, a small globe that moved on squirts of repulsor power and puffs of forced air, didn't quite dodge his beam. Its counterfire pa.s.sed over him. Deactivated by his harmless tracer beam, the orb hung immobile, awaiting another practice sequence. Han looked over to where Bollux, the labor 'droid, sat; his chest panels were open. Blue Max, the computer module installed in the 'droid's chest cavity, had been controlling the remote. "I told you I wanted a tougher workout than that thing's idiot circuitry could give me," Han reprimanded Blue Max. Bollux, a gleaming green, barrel- chested automaton, had arms long enough to suggest a simian. The computer, an outrageously expensive package built for maximum capacity, was painted a deep blue, whence came his name. Part of Han's post-Cor porate Sector splurge had included the modification the two mechanicals had requested, because without them he and the Wookiee might never have survived. Bollux now contained a newer and more powerful receiver, and Max had been provided with a compact holo-projector.

"That was," the little module objected. "Can I help it if you're so flaming fast? I could cut response time to nil, if you want." Han sighed.

"No. And watch your language, Max; just because I talk like that doesn't mean you can." He took the combat charge his weapon usually carried from its case at his belt. Badure was reclining in one of the acceleration chairs. "You've been practicing all through .this run. You're beating the ballie every time. Who's got you worried?" Han shrugged, then added as if by afterthought, "Did you ever hear of a gunman called Gallandro?" Both of Badure's thick eyebrows rose. "The Gallandro? You don't bother yourself with small-timers, do you, Slick? So that's it." Han looked around. Hasti, at her own and Badure's insistence, had commandeered Han's personal quarters-a cramped cubicle-for some secret purpose. Chewbacca was at the controls, but Skynx was present. Han decided it didn't matter if the Ruurian heard.

"I backed Gallandro down a while back, didn't even realize who he was. See, he had to let me do it at the time because it was part of a bigger deal he was working. Later on, though, he wanted to settle up."

Sweat gathered on his forehead with the memory. "He really moves; I couldn't even follow his practice draw. Anyway, I pulled a stunt on him and got out of the mess. I guess I made him look pretty bad, but I never thought he'd go to all this trouble."

"Gallandro? Slick, you're talking about the guy who single-handedly hijacked the Quamar Messenger on her maiden run and took over that pirate's nest, Geedon V, all by himself. And he went to the gun against the Malorm family, drawing head bounty on all five of them. And no one has ever beaten the score he rolled up when he was flying a fighter with Marso's Demons. Besides which, he's the only man who ever forced the a.s.sa.s.sins' Guild to default on a contract; he personally canceled half of their Elite Circle-one at a time-plus a.s.sorted journeymen and apprentices."

"I know, I know," Han said wearily, sitting down, "now. If I'd known who he was then, I'd have put a few pa.r.s.ecs between us, at least.

But what does a character like that want with me?" Badure spoke as to a slow-witted child. "Han, don't make someone like Gallandro back down, then walk away making a fool of him His kind live on their reputations.

You know that as well as I do. They accept no insult and never, never back down. He'll make you his career until he settles with you." Han sighed. "It's a big galaxy; he can't spend the rest of his life looking for me. " He wished he could believe that. There was a sound behind him, and he threw himself sideways out of his chair, firing in midair, rolling to avoid the remote's sting-shot. His tracer beam hit the dodging globe dead center. "Good try, Max," he commented.

"You strike me as being very adept, Captain," Skynx said from the padded nook over the acceleration couch. Han climbed to his feet. "You know all about master blastermen, don't you?" He appraised the academician. "Why'd you come on this run anyway? We could've brought the disk to you." The little Ruurian seemed embarra.s.sed. "Er, that is, as you probably know, my species' life cycle is-"

"Never saw a Ruurian until I met you," Han interjected. "Skynx, there're more life forms in this galaxy than anyone's bothered to count, you know that. Just listing the sentient ones is a life's work. "

"Of course. To explain we Ruurians go through three separate forms after leaving the egg. There is the larva, that which you see before you; the cycle of the chrysalis, in which we undergo changes while in pupa form; and the endlife stage, in which we become chroma-wing fliers and ensure the survival of our species. The pupae are rather helpless, you'll understand, and the chroma-wings are, um; preoccupied, caring only for flight, mating, and egg-laying."

"There better be no coc.o.o.ns or eggs on this ship," Han warned darkly.

"He promises," Badure said impatiently. "Now will you listen Skynx resumed. "All that leaves for us larval-stage Ruurians is to protect the pupae and ensure that the simpleminded chroma-wings don't get into trouble-and to run our planet. We are very busy, right from birth."

"What's that got to do with a nice larva like you raising ship for lost treasure?" Han asked.

"I studied the histories of your own scattered species, and I came to be fascinated with this concept, adventure," Skynx confessed as if unburdening himself of some dark perversity. "Of all the races who gamble their well-being on uncertain returns-and there aren't that many, statistically-the trait's most noticeable in humans, one of the most successful life forms." Skynx tried to frame his next words carefully.

"The stories, the legends, the songs, and holo-thrillers held such appeal. Once, before I spin my chrysalis, to sleep deeply and emerge a chroma-wing who will no longer be Skynx, I wish to cast aside good sense and try a human-style adventure. " Saying the last, he sounded happy.

There was a silence. "Play him the song you played for me, Skynx," Badure finally invited. In the upholstered nook he had occupied for most of the trip, Skynx had set up his species' version of a storage apparatus, a treelike framework used in lieu of boxes or bags. From its various branches hung Skynx's personal possessions and items he wished to have close to him. Each artifact was an enigma, but among them was apparently at least one musical instrument. Han had heard enough nonhuman music to want to forgo listening. Though he might be pa.s.sing up decent entertainment, he might also be avoiding sounds resembling somebody's unoiled groundcoach. He changed the subject hurriedly.

"Why don't you show us what's in the crates instead?'' Han looked around. "Where's Hasti? She should be in on this. "We'll be making planetfall soon, and she has preparations to make," Badure said. "Skynx, show him those remains; they should interest him." Skynx rose, shook out his amber coat to fluff it, and flowed smoothly out of his nook. Hoping that "remains" didn't refer to the sort of unappetizing objects he had seen in museums, Han stepped up to the crates with a power prybar. At Skynx's direction, he opened a container and whistled softly in astonishment. "Badure, give me a hand getting this thing out of the crate, will you?" Between them they strained and lifted out the object, setting it on the gameboard. It was an automaton's head. More correctly, it was the cranial turret of some robot out of ancient history. Its optical lenses were darkened by long radiation exposure. It was armored like a dreadnought with a coa.r.s.e, heavy gray alloy Han didn't recognize.

The a.s.sorted insignia and tech markings engraved into its surface were still visible and readable. Han expected the speaker grille to spew a challenge.

"It's a war-robot. Xim the Despot built a brigade of them to serve as his absolutely faithful royal guard," Skynx explained. "They were, at that time, the most formidable human-form fighting machines in the galaxy. This one's remains were recovered from the floating ruins of Xim's...o...b..tal fortress, possibly the only one that wasn't vaporized in the Third Battle of Vontor, Xim's final defeat. There are more pieces in those other crates. There were at least a thousand just like this one traveling onboard the Queen of Ranroon and guarding Xim's treasure when the ship vanished." Han opened another crate. It contained a huge chestplate; Han knew he would never be able to uncrate the thing without Chewbacca's help. In the plate's center was Xim's insignia, a death's head with sunbursts in the eye sockets. Bollux entered, chest panels open wide to let Blue Max perceive things as well. These two machines had been combined by a group of outlaw techs and had been instrumental in Han's survival at an Authority prison called Stars' End several adventures ago.

Bollux and Max had elected to join Han and Chewbacca, exchanging labor for pa.s.sage, in order to see the galaxy.

"Captain, First Mate Chewbacca says we'll be reverting to normal s.p.a.ce shortly," the 'droid announced. Then his red photoreceptors fell on the cranial turret, and Han could have sworn they abruptly became brighter. In a voice more hurried than his usual drawl, Bollux queried, "Sir, what is that?" He went over to examine the thing more closely. Max studied the relic as well. "So very old," mused the 'droid. "What machine is this?" "War-robot," Han told him, sifting through the other crates.

"Great-grandpa Bollux, maybe. " He didn't notice the 'droid's metallic fingers quizzically feeling the shape of the ma.s.sive head. Han was mumbling to himself. "Reinforced stress points; heavy-gauge armor, all points. Look how thick it is! You could run a machine shop off those power-delivery systems. Hmm, and built-in weapons, chemical and energy both." He stopped rummaging and looked at Skynx. "These things must've been unstoppable. Even with a blaster, I wouldn't want to mix with one. "

He slid the lid back on the crate. "Find yourselves a place and get comfortable, everybody. We'll revert from hypers.p.a.ce as soon as I get to the c.o.c.kpit. Where's Hasti? I can't hold up the whole-" His jaw dropped.

Hasti - it had to be her-had just swept into the forward compartment. But the factory-world, mining-camp girl was gone. The red hair now fell in soft, fine waves. She wore a costume of rich iridescent fabrics in black and crimson; the hem of her ruffled, wrapfront gown brushed the deckplates, and over it she wore a long quilted coat with voluminous sleeves, its formal cowl flung back and its gilt waist sash left open.

Her steps revealed supple, ornamentally st.i.tched buskins. She had appli ed makeup, too, but with such restraint that Han couldn't tell what or how. She was cooler, more poised, and seemed older than Han recalled. Her expression dared him to make a crack. One side of him was trying to tally how long it had been since he had seen anyone this attractive.

"Girl," breathed Badure, "for a second there I thought you were a ghost. It might've been Lanni, standing there. " An hour ago I d have said she couldn't find romance in a prison camp with a jetpack on! I'm slipping, Han thought. Then he found his voice. "But why?" While Hasti inspected Han distantly, Badure explained. "When Lanni diverted course on a freight run to store the log-recorder disk at the vaults, she changed into this local outfit Hasti's wearing so word wouldn't leak that a woman from the mining camp had been there. Fortunately she gave us the rental code and retrieval combination before she was killed by J'uoch's people.

Hasti must look as much like poor Lanni as possible, in case any of the vault personnel happen to remember her sister." Hasti motioned back toward Han's quarters. "Nice wallow you have there; it looks like the end of a six-day sweepstakes party." His reply was cut short by an angry caterwauling from the c.o.c.kpit. It was Chewbacca insisting that Han come up for the reversion to normal s.p.a.ce. I wonder if I wouldn't be asking too much to view the procedure from the c.o.c.kpit?" Skynx said to Han.

"Sure; we'll find some place for you." Han met Hasti's aloof gaze.

"How about you? Care to watch?" She pursed her mouth indifferently. Skynx left off observing what was, as far as he could conclude, a variation of human preening/courting rituals and excitedly hurried toward the c.o.c.kpit, followed by Badure. Han, weighing Hasti's expression, decided neither to offer his arm nor to touch her in any ushering-along gesture. None of them noticed Bollux, who remained behind, contemplating the war-robot's head, his cold fingers resting on the imposing armored brow.

6.

DELLALT had, in its heyday, been a prominent member of a strategic cl.u.s.ter during the pre-Republic phase known locally as the Expansionist Period. That importance had run its course. Altering trade routes, increased ships' cruising ranges, intense commercial compet.i.tion, social dislocation, and the realigning power centers of the emergent Republicall had long since converted the planet to a seldom taken side trip, isolated even from the rest of the Tion Hegemony. Dellalt's surface boasted far more water than soil. The treasure vaults of Xim were located near a lake on the southernmost of the planet's three continents, a hook-shaped piece of land that crossed Dellalt's equator and extended almost to its southern pole. Around the vaults stood Dellalt's single large population concentration, a small city built by Xim's engineers. The travelers studied it during their approach. Heavy weapons emplacements and defensive structures around the city were now gutted ruins filled with crumbling machinery. Broken monorail pylons and once grand buildings, falling back to dusk, were overgrown with thick dendroid vines. Recent construction was spa.r.s.e, poorly planned, and done with crude materials.

There was the wreckage of a sewage- and water-treatment plant, indicating just how far back Dellalt had slipped. Badure mentioned that the planet harbored a race of sauropteroids, large aquatic reptiles that lived in a rigidly codified truce with the human inhabitants. Port officialdom was nonexistent; a bureaucracy would have been an unprofitable expense, something the Tion Hegemony avoided. Han and Badure, intending to attract attention, made a show of stretching and pacing as they came down the ramp to a landing area that was no more than a flat hilltop showing the scorches of former landings and liftoffs. Their breath crystallized in the cold air. Han had donned his own flight jacket. Glossy, cracked, and worn with age, it showed darker, unweathered spots where patches and insignia had been removed. He pulled his collar up against the wind.

Below them the decaying city spread out along slopes leading down to the long, narrow lake, part of Dellalt's intricate aquatic system. Han estimated from the condition of the landing area that it saw no more than three or four landings per Dellaltian year-probably just Tion patrol ships and the occasional marginal tramp trader. The planet's year was half again as long as a Standard one, with a shorter-than-Standard mean day. Gravity was slightly more than Standard, but since Han had adjusted the Millennium Falcon's gravity during the flight, they scarcely noticed it now. People came running up from the little city, laughing and making sounds of greeting. The . women's attire was like Hasti's, with variations of color, layering, and cut. Male dress tended toward loose pantaloons; padded jackets, all manner of hats and turbans, and pleated, flowing cloaks and robes. Children copied their parents' appearance in miniature. All around these humans were packs of yipping, loping domestic animals, grainy-skinned quadrupeds with needlelike teeth and prehensile tails. Han asked who owned the single building on the field, a decaying edifice of lockslab that might be used as warehouse or docking hangar.

The owner appeared quickly, making his way through the mob with curses and insults that no one seemed to take personally. He was small but heavily built, and his scraggly whiskers failed to hide pockmarked cheeks and throat that had been ravaged by some local disease. His teeth were yellow-brown stumps. Crude or nonexistent medical care was too common on fringe worlds for Han to feel disgust anymore. He inquired about the building. The language of Dellalt was Standard, distorted with a thick accent. The man insisted that rental terms were so minor a problem that there was no reason to waste Han's time, that the outloading of cargo could begin at once. The pilot knew that to be a lie, but confrontation was a part of Badure's plan. Bollux appeared and began making trips between the starship and the building. At first the perplexed droid found himself surrounded by screaming, laughing children and snarling, snapping domestic quadrupeds. But the cousins of the building's landlord threatened, cursed, and slapped them away, then formed an escort to see to it that the labor 'droid could work in relative peace. Still, many eyes followed the gleaming Bollux; such automata were unknown here. The landlord's cousins opened one of the building's doors just wide enough for the 'droid to enter and leave. He began stacking crates, canisters, pressure kegs, and boxes inside. The crowd milled around and under the Millennium Falcon, timidly touching her landing gear and gawking up at her in amazement, yammering among themselves. Then someone noticed the Wookiee, who sat looking down from the c.o.c.kpit. Shouts and shrieks went up; hands were thrust at the Wookiee in gestures meant to repel evil.

Chewbacca gazed down on all the activity impa.s.sively, and Han .wondered if it had occurred to any in the crowd that his first 'mate was manning the freighter's weaponry. A considerable pile of cargo containers had already acc.u.mulated in the building when, with his .cousins stationed around its main doors, the landlord abandoned his effusive welcomes and named an enormous rental fee. Badure shook his scarred first under the landlord's nose, and Han shouted a threat. The landlord threw up his hands and besought his ancestors for justice, then insulted the offworlders' appearance and the circ.u.mstances of their birth. His cousins let the 'droid continue stacking cargo in his building, though. Each time Bollux left the outbuilding, one of the cousins swung the door shut with a creak of primitive hinges. Waiting until she had heard that sound for the third time to be certain of the routine-and having timed the 'droid's purposely slow trips-Hasti pushed the lid off her shipping canister and stepped out, lifting her hem carefully and rubbing her cramped neck.

Anyone seen leaving the starship would have been trailed all over town by the crowds. That in turn would have made recovery of the log-recorder impossible. Badure's plan had circ.u.mvented all that. The building had a small rear door. Everything was as Badure had predicted-on a backward world like Dellalt, the landlord could ill afford expensive locking systems on each door. Therefore, this rear door and the larger hanging door were secured from the inside, with only a smaller door set in the larger one equipped with a lockplate. Not that that mattered. Han Solo had given Hasti a vibrocutter in case, she had needed to force her way out. But she needed merely to move the bolt and then emerged into the light behind the building, shouldering the door closed again. Peering around the corner, she could isolate at least three different centers of furor. In one, Han Solo and Badure were squared off with the landlord, insulting one another's antecedents and personal hygiene in best Dellaltian haggling style; in another, people were pointing at and debating hotly over Chewbacca's origin; and finally, the landlord's cousins were battling the crowd so Bollux could keep filling the building with the containers they would later confiscate if the offworlders didn't meet the exorbitant rental fee. All the Dellaltians seemed quite happy with their unscheduled holiday. At that juncture another disn, also planned by Badure, occurred. Skynx ambled down the ramp,, ostensibly to confer with Han and the old man. An astonished shout went up from the crowd and most of the people tagging along after Bollux went at a run to see this new wonder. Making sure her compact pistol was safe in an inner pocket, Hasti set off, keeping the building between herself and the field. She had draped the cowl over her head and went unnoticed. She had been in the city before, sent from the mining camp with Lanni to make minor purchases. Recallin g the layout of the place, she set out for Xim's treasure vaults. Pavement laid when the vaults were new had been chewed and disintegrated by use and time. The streets were rutted and hard-packed in the middle and muddy along the sides where slops had been dumped from overhanging windows. Hasti prudently kept along the middle way. Around her people ran, limped, or were carried toward the landing area. Two cadaverous oldsters, members of the local aristocracy, were carried past in an opulent sedan chair borne by six stooped bearers. A buckboard drawn by two skeletal, eightlegged dray beasts followed. Three drunks lurched out of a drinking stall, arms around one another; they were waving ceramic tippling bowls in the air, sloshing liquor. They regarded her for a moment, then elbowed one another. Under the native code of ethics a woman was fairly safe, at least in town, but Hasti kept her eyes to the ground and her hand near her pistol. But the celebrants decided that the starship merited their attention first, or they would be excluded from an event the rest of the city would talk about all year.

Picking her way through a city that seemed to be falling apart before her eyes, Hasti as last came to the vaults of Xim the Despot. The vaults were contained within a sprawling, cameral complex of interlocking structures, immensely thickwalled and, in its day, impervious to forced entry. Still, thieves had gotten in over the years and, finding only empty vaults, yawning treasure chambers, and waiting bins and unoccupied shelves, had soon departed. Only the occasional wanderer or scholar of the obscure came here to tour Xim's barren edifice now. The galaxy was rich in sights and marvels worth the seeing and easier to reach; there was little of allure in the haunted emptiness here. In the vaults' worn and pitted facade were engraved Xim's insignia of the starburst-eyed death's head and characters from an ancient language IN ETERNAL HOMAGE TO XIM, WHOSE FIST SHALL ENCLOSE THE STARS AND WHOSE NAME SHALL OUTLIVE TIME.

Hasti paused for a glimpse of herself in the gleaming stump of a fallen column, hoping she resembled her sister sufficiently. She fumed at the memory of Han Solo's sudden change of att.i.tude toward her-first fussing over the buckling of her seatbelt and then his reckless---but expert-planetfall, done to impress her. Either the oaf couldn't see how much she disliked him or, more likely, refused to accept it. At the top of the steps she crossed the wide, roofless portico and pa.s.sed through the vaults' single, gigantic entranceway. The interior was cool and dark.

There was a vast circular chamber under a dome half a kilometer in diameter, a mere vestibule to the huge vault complex. But this outermost chamber was the only part of the vaults in use anymore. Hasti's eyes adjusted to the light of weak glow-rods and tallow lanterns guttering smoke into the cavernous room designed to be lit by monumental illumi-panels. Farther in toward the center of the place was a small cl.u.s.ter of work tables, part.i.tions, and cabinets-the administrative annex for the minor activity the vaults still housed. A few Dellaltians, carrying data plaques, old-fashioned memo-wire spools, and even a few sheafs of paper computerprintout, pa.s.sed by her. Hasti shook her head at the primitive operation. But, she remembered, the vaults had very few tenants. The Dellaltian Bank and Currency Exchange, a minor concern, was one, while the Landmark Preservation Office, charged with looking after the abandoned labyrinth with almost no resources, was that grouping of desks and part.i.tions. A man approached her from the semigloom-tall, broad shouldered, his hair as white as his forked beard. He moved briskly; at his heels was an a.s.sistant, a smaller, grimmer man whose long black hair was parted down the middle and showed a white blaze. The tall man's voice was hearty and charming. "I am steward of the vaults. How may I help you?" Holding her chin high, Hasti answered in her best approximation of a local accent. "The lockboxes. I wish to recover my property." The steward's hands circled one another, fingers gathered, in the Dellaltian sign of courtesy and invitation. "Of course; I shall a.s.sist you personally. " He spoke to the other man, who departed. Remembering to walk on his right, as a Dellaltian woman would, Hasti followed the steward. The vaults' corridors, musty with age, displayed mosaics of colored crystal so complicated that Hasti couldn't interpret them. Many of the pieces were cracked, and whole stretches were missing; they arched high overhead into shadow. Here, their footsteps resounded hollowly. At last they came to a wall, not the end of the corridor but a part.i.tion of crudely cut stone that had plainly been mortared into place after the original construction. Set in the wall was a door that looked as if it had been scavenged from some later; less substantial building. Next to it was an audio pickup. The steward pointed to it.

"If the lady will speak into the voice-coder, we can proceed to the lockbox repository. " When Hasti's sister had told her and Badure about depositing the log-recorder disk she had told them the box-rental code and retrieval combination, but had mentioned no voicecoder. Hasti felt the pulse in her forehead and the thumping in her rib cage quicken. The steward was waiting. Leaning to the audio pickup she said, as if in mystic invocation, "Lanni Troujow."

"My last offer," Badure threatened for the fourth time, resorting to hyperbole common on Dellalt, "is ten credits a day, guaranteed three-day minimum." The landlord shrieked and tore hairs out of his beard, beat his chest with his free hand, and vowed to his ancestors that he would join them before letting plundering offworlders steal the food from his children's mouths. Skynx took it all in, amazed by the carefully measured affrontery of the hagglers, Han listened with one ear, worried that Hasti might not have been able to get away from the landing area undetected.

There was a tug at his shoulder; it was Bollux. "I noticed this altercation, sir. Shall I continue to outload our cargo?" That meant Hasti was away. Badure heard and understood. "Get everything back onboard until this son of contaminated genes, this landlord, bargains reasonably."

"Unthinkable! " screamed the landlord. "You have already made use of my precious building and diverted me from my other pursuits. A settlement must be made; I hereby hold your cargo against the arrival of the Fact-Finders.." He and Badure swapped deadly oaths. The landlord called the old man a horrible name. Skynx, quivering in excitement, immersed himself in the spirit of the thing, antennae trembling.

"Devourer of eggs!" Everyone stopped, glancing at the diminutive Ruurian, who swallowed, appalled at his rash outburst. The landlord departed; along with much of the crowd, hurling back epithets and leaving his cousins to guard the outbuilding. From somewhere, the cousins had produced bolt-operated slug rifles with hexagonal barrels and long, lens-type scopes. Back onboard the Falcon, Badure threw himself into a chair, "That landlord! What a freighter b.u.m he'd have made!" Han grabbed Bollux.

"What happened?"

"The men guarding the building entrance kept looking through the door after me as I deposited the cargo. It was some time before they became bored and gave all their attention over to Badure's performance and Skynx's appearance. Hasti was no longer in her crate, and the -inner door was unbarred. At. Blue Max's suggestion I resecured the door. "

"Tell Maxie he's a good boy," Badure said. "I like you two; you've got a touch of larceny in you. " Bollux's chest plastron swung open, the halves coming apart like cabinet doors. Blue Max's photoreceptor lit up.

"Thanks, Badure," he said,-sounding smug. Han told himself. I should keep an eye on that computer or he'll end up wearing juvie-gang colors and packing a vibro-shiv. Just at that moment, Skynx appeared with Chewbacca, who had just left the c.o.c.kpit. The Wookiee was holding the metallic flask of vacuum-distilled jet juice the partners kept under the control console for special occasions. "Skynx," Badure said, "I think it's time to strike up the band." Skynx flowed to the acceleration couch and on up into his nook. He began taking objects from his treelike storage rack. "If you have no further tasks for us, sir," Bollux told Han, "Max and I would like to continue our study of Skynx's tapes."

"Whatever you want, old-timer. Bollux crossed to the tech station, where he and the computer resumed their perusal of the ancient records Skynx had brought, along. The labor 'droid, who had worked his way across the galaxy and had already outlived one body, possessed an almost sentient streak of curiosity, and Blue Max was always ready to absorb new information. The two mechanicals were particularly interested in technical data and other references to the giant war-robots of long-dead Xim. Skynx, sitting up on his rearmost two sets of limbs, took and held a miniature amplified hammer dulcimer in the next set and two hammers in each digital cl.u.s.ter of the next. He strapped a pair of tympanic pulsers around himself, tapping experimentally with the digits of his next-higher limbs. Above those he fastened a pair of small bellows to pump air to a horn held in his uppermost-but-one set of extremities. In the uppermost he took up a flute of sorts and tried a few runs. The sound was like the wind cones Han remembered from his own homeworld. He wondered what kind of brain could coordinate all that activity. Skynx launched into a merry air, full of sudden runs, bright interplay and humorous progressions, and impudent catches made to sound as if the instruments or Skynx's limbs were getting out of hand and taking their own course. The Ruurian made a great pretense of distress and bewilderment and a desperate effort to bring his extremities under control again. The other s laughed, particularly Chewbacca, whose Wookiee chortles made the bulkheads ring.

Badure rapped time on the gameboard and even Han was tapping a toe or two. He opened the flask, took a swig, and pa.s.sed it to the Wookiee, "Here, this'll put some curl in your pelt. " Chewbacca drank, then sent the flask along. Even Skynx accepted a drink. They demanded another number after that, and a third, Badure eventually jumped up, both hands over his head, to demonstrate the Bynarrian jig. He capered around the compartment as if he were twenty kilos lighter and as many years younger.

At the height of the Bynarrian jig the ship's hatch signaled, Badure and Chewbacca rushed off, eager to see what Hasti had brought back. Bollux and Blue Max looked up from the strobing rapid-readout screen, and Skynx began extricating himself from his instruments.

"Step one completed! " he said in his quick fashion. "Skynx, of the K'zagg Colony, off on a treasure hunt! If my clutch-siblings could see me now!" But when the Wookiee reentered the compartment, he slumped dejectedly over to his partner and sank into the couch, head in hairy hands. Bad as that? thought Han. Badure followed, one arm clasped around a despairing Hasf, She took a sip from the flask, coughed, told her story quickly, then took another.

"Voice-coder? " Han exclaimed. n.o.body said anything about a voicecoder."

"Maybe Lanni never realized her voice was being printed," Badure replied.

"That steward," Hasti muttered. "I should've jabbed my gun into his bellyb.u.t.ton and offered to glaze his gallstones for him." Han handed the half-empty flask to his copilot and rose. "Now we do it my way. " He headed for the c.o.c.kpit, pulling on his flying gloves. Chewbacca fell in behind. "Want to know how to make a withdrawal? Stick around." Badure hurriedly interposed himself between the two partners and the main pa.s.sageway, "Steady there, boys. Just what've you got in mind?" Han grinned. "Swooping down on the vault, blowing the doors with the belly-turret guns, going in, and taking the disk. Don't bother getting up, folks; it'll all be over in a minute." Badure shook his head. "What if a Tion patrol cruiser shows up? Or an Imperial ship? Would you care to have a hunter-killer team on your neck?" Han made a move to step around him.

"I'll chance it." Hasti jumped up. "Well, I won't! Sit down, Solo! At least consider the options before you risk the death penalty for all of us." Chewbacca awaited his friend's decision. Bollux watched impartially and Blue Max with a certain excitement.

"Some forethought might not be out of place here," Skynx contributed in a very subdued voice. Han disliked complications and subterfuge, but his hasty action was stayed, for the moment, by the conviction that being dead was the least interesting thing in life. "All right, all right; who's hungry?" he asked. "I'm sick of ship's rations.

Let's go see what kind of meal we can get in town. But if n.o.body thinks of a new one, my plan still goes." He clipped the flask to his gunbelt while Chewbacca gathered up his bowcaster and bandoleer of ammunition.

Badure found the small purse of local currency he had brought, and Bollux shut his plastron halves on Blue Max. Hasti saw Skynx shedding his instruments. "Hey, I never got to hear anything." Badure looked around.

"Bring them along," he bade Skynx. The Ruurian began tucking his instruments into carrying cinches he fastened around himself. Pulling on his flight jacket, Han shut and sealed the hatch behind them. Storm clouds had moved in, and electrical discharges illuminated the clouds in strange flashes of red. Badure pointed out that the landlord's cousins had disappeared. "They probably figured out they were guarding empty boxes."

"More likely they didn't want to sit around in that leaky barn,"

Hasti reasoned. The rest of the onlookers who had been watching the starship from a distance, mostly children and the domestic yappers, were gone as well. They set off downslope with Bollux bringing up the rear. Up this high, away from the docks, the streets were poorly maintained and lighting was unknown. They didn't get far. Han was first to sense something wrong-everything was too quiet, too many ramshackle windows were shuttered. No lights were showing and no voices could be heard anywhere nearby. He grabbed Chewbacca's shoulder, and the bowcaster came up, the blaster appearing at the same time. By instinct, they stood back to back. Hasti had her mouth open to ask what was wrong when the spotlights. .h.i.t them. Han recognized them as hand-held spots and, figuring that a right-handed man would be holding the spot as far out with his left as he could, took an estimated aim.

"Don't!" a voice ordered. "We'll cut you all down if anyone fires a shot!" They were surrounded. Han holstered his side arm, and the Wookiee lowered his bowcaster. Humans and various other beings appeared in the glare waving rifles, riot guns, slug-shooters, and other weapons. Han and his companions were easily_ disarmed and their equipment examined. Skynx chittered in terror while their captors pawed his delicate musical instruments, but he was allowed to retain them. Three individuals strode forward to search the captives. The smaller two were mainbreed human-twins, a young man and woman who shared traits of thick, straight brown hair and widow's peaks, startling black-irised eyes, and thin, intense, pale faces. The third personage hung back, a looming hulk in the light backwash of the spots. Han remembered the name Badure had mentioned Egome Fa.s.s, the enforcer. The twins approached them, the female in the lead. "

Fuoch," murmured Hasti, shivering. The twins' faces held the same rigid, lethal composure. "That's it," J'uoch replied quickly. "Where's the disk, Hasti? We know you went to the vaults." She gave Han a chilly smile. Then the smile vanished and she turned again to Hasti. "Give it up, or we burn down your friends, starting with the pilot here. Chewbacca's great arms tensed, fingers curling. He prepared to die as he would be expected to, head of a Wookiee Honor Family, his life so intimately intertwined with that of Han Solo that there existed no human word for the relationship.

Han, in turn, was choosing among several tactics, all of them suicidal, when Bollux spoke. "Captain Solo mustn't come to harm. I will open the Millennium Falcon for you." The woman eyed him. It hadn't occurred to Fuoch that the 'droid would be cleared for ship access. "Very well. All we want is the log-recorder disk. " Han, in the grip of adrenal overload, stared at Bollux and wondered what was going through the old labor 'droid's logic stacks. One fact did not escape him he had heard high-pitched communication bursts exchanged between Bollux and Blue Max. Their captors herded them back toward the Falcon. Too late, Han understood why, the Dellaltians had scattered. He just hoped the two machines had a workable plan. Bollux, climbing the ramp, was at the main hatch lock with several of Fuoch's people near. Strangely, ,just as the main hatch rolled up into its recess, the 'droid chose to swing his chest panels open. Then Han and the others heard Blue Max's high-speed burst signals. An ear-splitting hiss of a hurtling object echoed through the air. One of the men who was guarding Bollux was lifted off his feet by terrific impact, and in the next moment was stretched headlong on the ramp. Another captor, farther down the ramp, was slammed in the shoulder and knocked through the air.

"Run for it!" Blue Max shrilled. As suddenly as that, chaos broke loose.

7.

THE two strongarm specimens still standing at the top of the ramp ducked instinctively. Something small and fast swooshed past Han, knocking the humanoid who had been guarding him off his feet. Bollux pivoted to follow the action. From the now-exposed Blue Max more high-pitched beeps issued forth. Han realized with some amazement that the computer module had managed to summon the remote targetglobe from the Falcon's interior and was using it as a weapon. Before J'uoch's people could react, Han yelled, "Hit 'em!" He grabbed the nearest opponent's weapon, a slug-shooter carbine with a drum magazine and, twisting his leg behind the other's, toppled him over. Badure rammed his elbows back into the face of his guard and turned to grapple with him. Chewbacca was less fortunate. Preparing to enter the fray, he was unaware that the ma.s.sive Egome Fa.s.s had stolen up behind him. The enforcer's hard fist crashed into the base of the Wookiee's skull. Chewbacca staggered, nearly falling to his knees, but his tremendous strength bore him up again. He turned groggily to give battle, but Egome Fa.s.s's first blow had given the enforcer a formidable edge. He avoided Chewbacca's slowed counterpunch and landed another blow, bringing his fist down on the Wookiee's shoulder. And this time the Falcon's first mate went down. Badure was having a difficult time with his second guard, who was young and fast.

They struggled, feet shuffling in the dry dust, but just as the older man was gaining the upper hand by dint of weight and reach, he was tackled low around the knees and went down. The tackler was Hasti. She had seen that Fuoch's men on the ramp were about to open fire on Badure. Propelled by its repulsor power and forced air, the remote globe had taken two antagonists out of the fight. Fuoch was shooting at it with Hasti's confiscated pistol, missing, and screaming orders that her troops ignored. Han had retrieved the carbine, knocking his opponent away with a stroke of the weapon's b.u.t.t. He spotted his partner struggling to rise as Egome Fa.s.s hovered over him. The enforcer's hood was thrown back, and in the light spilling down through the hatch, Han saw the humanoid's huge, square jaw and tiny, gleaming eyes set far back under thick, bony ridges of brow. Han clamped the carbine stock to his hips and squeezed off a burst. The weapon stuttered with a deafening staccato and reeked of burned propellant. A stream of slugs plucked at the enforcer's chest but only ripped away fragments of cloth. Egome Fa.s.s was wearing body armor under his outsized coveralls. Before Han could adjust for effect, the humanoid lunged for cover. A wash of white fire flared on Han's right.

Turning, he saw that it was a power-pistol shot aimed at Badure by a man on the ramp who missed because Hasti had just tackled the old man. But it hit the man with whom Badure had been struggling. He shrieked once and died as he fell. Han grabbed Chewbacca's elbow as the Wookiee struggled to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. Retaking the Falcon was impossible; the two remaining guards at the ramp head were kneeling in the shelter of the hatchway and firing into the night. "Get back! " Han hollered to his companions. He moved back, firing in brief bursts, followed by Hasti and Badure with Skynx scuttling rapidly behind. The spotty return fire, hasty and poorly aimed, never came close. But one guard, a leather-skinned creature with a h.o.r.n.y carapace, blocked Bollux's retreat. Blue Max beeped, and immediately the remote flashed out of the darkness, striking the creature from behind and knocking it over. Since the remote couldn't operate at any great distance from the starship, Max gave the signal that sent it jetting back onboard. The labor 'droid hurried after the others, bounding in long strides made possible by heavy-duty suspension. The group ran, bounded, and scuttled to the edge of the landing area. All the while Han raked the field behind them to keep Fuoch's people pinned down. Then the carbine went silent.

"Drum's empty," he said. Off in the night he could hear J'uoch railing at her followers and calling for a comlink. "She's posting a guard on the ship and calling for reinforcements," Badure announced.

"We'd best lose ourselves in town for a while." The group descended through the city in an informal race, past shuttered shops and locked doors. No lights could be seen; the Dellaltians who had seemed so curious earlier wanted no part of this lethal dispute among offworlders. Leading the others, Han plunged into an alley, followed it to a market plaza, and hurried down a trellised side street that smelled of strange foods and fuels. They came to a factory district. Pausing in the shadows, the humans and the Wookiee leaned against a wall and fought for breath while Bollux waited impa.s.sively and Skynx, with a superior respiratory system, checked his carrier cinches to make sure that none of his precious instruments had been damaged.

"You should've snagged a gun," Han puffed, "instead of worrying about that one-man band of yours."

"These have been making music in my family for a dozen generations," Skynx replied indignantly. "And I'm sure I don't know how I could've wrested a weapon away from some malodorous ruffian four times my size." Han gave up the argument and checked the nearby rooftops. "Can anybody spot a ladder or staircase? We have to see if they're trailing us. "

"Now I can be of help there, I believe," Skynx announced. A nearby pole supported fiber-optic cables for intown communications; wrapping himself around it, Skynx spiraled up the pole, protecting his instruments carefully. Since all the buildings were one-story affairs, he had a good view of the surrounding area. Having reconnoitered, Skynx corkscrewed his way down the pole again. "There are search parties working their way down through town," he told them. "They have hand-held spotlights; I a.s.sume them to be using comlinks. " He tried to hide his fearful quaking. "Did you see their ship? " Han asked eagerly. "It must be around here somewhere. Perhaps we could pick up some fire power there." But Skynx hadn't spotted it. They decided to try to skirt the search parties'

pattern and see if they couldn't get back to the Millennium Falcon.

Skynx's feathery antennae wavered in the air, attentive to vibrations.

"Captain, I hear something." They all held their breath and listened. A rumbling swelled until it shook the ground. "Looks like Fuoch got through on the comlink," observed Badure over the tumult. An enormous vessel mounted with heavy guns was hovering above the landing area, its floodlights playing over the city. The fugitives pressed backs into the shadows. The ponderous lighter couldn't hover and search for long; instead she descended. "There'll be more manpower onboard her," Badure warned. "Skynx, shinny up and take a look. Be careful. The Ruurian went up a nearby line-pole and was down again almost at once. "The big ship must have dropped off parties down in the lakeside area," he told them urgently. "I saw them spreading out, coming up the hill. And there's a group of three coming down this way from above. One of them is carrying Chewbacca's bowcaster." The Wookiee growled ominously. Han agreed, "Let's take care of them, but good. " No one mentioned surrender; it was plain Fuoch would do anything to get what she wanted. The search party flashed hand-held spots into alleys and doorways. Teams were being organized to scour the rooftops; virtually every trustworthy being who could be spared from the mining camp had been armed and brought to the scene. The man leading this particular party, the man whose carbine Han had appropriated, carried Chewbacca's bowcaster and had tucked Han's blaster into his belt. He had seen a Wookiee bowcaster used in the holo-thrillers and was determined to get even with the two by downing them with their own weapons. He was delighted, therefore, to see a looming, s.h.a.ggy shape step out of the darkness before him. Blocking his companions in the process, the man with the bowcaster took a stance and fired. But Chewbacca ducked at the last instant, knowing that the man's unfamiliarity with the feel and aiming characteristics of the bowcaster would cause a first-round miss. In a flash the Wookiee hurled himself forward. The man gave the bowcaster's foregrip a yank to rec.o.c.k it and strip another round off the magazine for a second shot. But he got nowhere; the weapon's mechanism was set for a Wookiee's brawn and length of arm. Before he could cast it aside and pull out Han's blaster, a mountain of angry brown fur descended upon him. The other two searchers fanned out to either side. One was felled immediately as Han Solo stepped out of the shadows and knocked him out with a swipe of the carbine's b.u.t.t. The other was stunned by masonry brickbats flung by Hasti and Badure. Han adroitly s.n.a.t.c.hed his victim's pistol and fired at the brickbat-stunned searcher. Yelling, the man clenched his calf and fell.

Meanwhile Chewbacca had separated his man from the bowcaster and thrown him against a wall. The man crashed with an impressive thud and slid to the ground.

"You'll live," Han decided, toeing over the man he had shot and waving his recaptured blaster, "if you make some worthwhile conversation.