Han Solo And The Lost Legacy Part 4

"Nothing," answered Shazeen. "Humans don't usually go up there.

Fewer come back. They say it's just desolation up there." He was studying Chewbacca, who had doffed the hated cloak, Bollux's gleaming form, and the now-reviving Skynx.

"I'd heard that," agreed Badure. "The mining camp lies on the far side of the mountains, Han, but I'd reckoned we'd go around. Why should Lanni have been interested in them, I wonder?"

Han stood up. "Let's find out. "

10.

THE terrain lifted away from the lakesh.o.r.e in a series of rolling hills carpeted with soft, blue moss that cushioned their steps. Han was gratified to see the moss spring back when they had pa.s.sed, thereby obliterating the group's prints. Supplies were no problem. The workers on this side of the lake, all members of Kasarax's sh.o.r.e gang, had departed in haste on seeing their leader defeated, fearing the bloodvengeance of the non-gang members. Calculating a ten- to twelve-day march through the mountains, the party had carefully picked through the abandoned storage buildings for provisions and equipment. They had filled their packs with jars of lake crustaceans marinated in syrup, plastic cartons of the doughy stuff Hasti had first sampled, tubes of pickled vegetable slices, bags of meal, smoked fish, cured meat, and some hard purple sausages.

Even though they carried capacious water bladders, they were relying on finding more water in the mountains. According to the survey map, there were abundant run-offs and fresh springwater throughout the area. Those who wore clothing had gathered cold weather gear. Han had pulled off his wet clothes, settling for a Dellaltian outfit until he could dry his own, and contrived a bandage for the knife cut. Practicality had made Hasti exchange her robes and gown for an outfit suitable for an adolescent boy.

They had also found thick, insulated bedrolls. There were no riding animals or power vehicles to be found. But Han didn't mind, trusting unfamiliar beasts no more than he did the aged and breakdown-p.r.o.ne Dellaltian machinery. Bollux, who could bear a heavy pack and yet consumed no water or food, found that his popularity had increased. They felt lucky to have him along, knowing none of the local domesticated animals or ground vehicles were suited to the mountain terrain and aircraft were few and far between on Dellalt. They had found some lengths of rope, but no other climbing gear. Neither had they found medicine or a medi-pack, additional weapons or charges, commo or navigational gear, heating unit, or macrobinoculars or teleeye, though the scope on Han's blaster would be some compensation for the last. For shelter, they had brought along a wagoner's tent they found in one of the abandoned buildings. And they were armed. In addition to Han's side arm and Chewbacca's bowcaster, they also had the weapons captured f rom Fuoch's forces. Badure carried the stun-gun he had already used and a brace of long-barreled power pistols. Hasti had a compact disrupter, a dartshooter loaded with toxic missiles, and a blaster, but the latter was nearly exhausted because Han had used it to recharge his own. Skynx declined to bear arms, which his species never used, and Bollux's basic programming, the 'droid said, prohibited him from using them as well.

Ascending the foothills, they kept the ridge lines between themselves and the region behind, though Han doubted anyone was taking time to try to spot them. The collapse of Kasarax's racket was probably occupying everyone's attention. Gusting winds tore across the open hills, pressing at the resilient moss and stirring the travelers' hair, clothing, and fur. The country was stark and vacant. Lacking a second comlink, they decided -not to put out a point-walker, but rather to rely on the wide field of surveillance they could maintain. Chewbacca took the lead, treading the blue moss lightly for all his size, testing the air with black nostrils flaring. His blue eyes moved constantly, his hunter's senses keenly attuned. A dozen paces behind trudged Bollux. The labor 'droid had opened his chest plastron a crack at the computer's demand, and Max was taking in the view. Next came Badure and Hasti side by side.

Skynx followed after, carrying only his musical instruments because none of the packs fit him and he couldn't have borne much weight anyway.

Undulating along, he kept pace without difficulty. Han brought up the rear, frequently casting glances behind, making minute adjustments in the balance and shoulder-strap padding of the makeshift pack he had thrown together. He lined up prominent terrain features and did his best to keep track of their direction and course, since that was the only way they would have of orienting themselves to the surveying map. From time to time he thought about the treasure, but the open countryside and the brisk wind made him happier than he would have admitted. In a way, they reminded him of the freedom of s.p.a.ce travel. The group moved on throughout the morning with deliberate speed, Han stopping frequently to scan his blaster's scope for some sign of pursuit. But as Dellalt's blue-white primary climbed the sky and none appeared, they slowed a bit, saving strength for the long journey. Skynx dropped back to talk to Han.

The Ruurian had a rapid metabolism and so had recovered from his bout with the flask. Han, who had been walking backward for a few paces while he checked. the rear, pivoted around in step. It occurred to him that Skynx must be thoroughly disillusioned with human-style adventuring.

"Hey, Skynx, break out that hip-pocket orchestra of yours. We're out in the open anyway, like a bug on a canopy. A little music won't make things any chancier." The Ruurian complied eagerly. Using his lowermost four sets of limbs for locomotion without decreasing speed, he took up the tympanic pulsers, bellows-horn, and flute. He began a human-tempo marching tune, one for marching overland rather than for a parade. The small pulsers held a catchy beat, the bellows-horn tootled, and the flute skirled. Han resisted the quickened pace, but enjoyed the music. Badure squared his shoulders and fell into energetic stride, sucking in his overhanging stomach and humming with the music. Hasti smiled at Skynx and strode along more quickly. Chewbacca tried to stay in step, although Wookiees don't generally take to regimentation. The process was awkward for him. He achieved a kind of animated swagger, though not even remotely in time. Bollux, however, fell right into step, mechanical legs pumping precisely, arms swinging, chin held high. They trod blue moss; cold wind made the landscape seem barren and free. In this manner they proceeded over the hill. They were well up into the heights when the blue-white sun set. The few lights of the city came on, far below and behind them.

Outcroppings of rock had begun to appear, rising from the blue moss. They camped at one of these ledges, under an overhang that would afford some protection from wind. There was no fuel for a fire. As they settled in, Han established priorities. "I'm going to check the area with the scope.

Chewie will take. first watch, after he eats. Badure, you take second and I'll take third. Skynx can have the wake-up duty. Is that all right with everybody?'' Badure didn't mention Han's a.s.sumption of leadership, being content with the arrangement. "What about me?" Hasti asked evenly.

"You can have first watch tomorrow, so don't feel left out. Would it be straining our bonds of affection to ask to borrow your wrist chrono?" Teeth clenched, she threw it at him, then he and Chewbacca set off. "You're welcome! " she called after him. "Who does he think he is, anyway?" she said to the others. Badure answered mildly. "Slick? He's used to taking charge; he wasn't always a smuggler and a freighter b.u.m.

Didn't you notice the red piping on the seams of his ship board trousers?

They don't give away the Corellian Bloodstripe for perfect attendance."

She considered that for a moment. "Well, how did he get it? And why do you call him Slick?"

"You'll have to get that first part from him, but the nickname business goes back to the first time I met him, way back." In spite of herself, she was curious. Skynx was also listening with interest, as were Bollux and Blue Max. The two automata decided to hear Badure out before shutting down for the night; their photoreceptors glowed in the dusk. It was becoming colder fast, and the humans pulled their cloaks tighter, Badure closing his flight jacket Skynx curled his woolly form to conserve body heat.

"Id been a line officer, had a few decorations myself," Badure began, "but there was the matter of a floating Jubilee Wheel I was running onboard the flagship. Anyway, they rea.s.signed me to the staff at an academy.

"The' commandant was a desk pilot, off his gyros. His bright idea was to take a training ship, an old U-33 orbital loadlifter, and rig her so the flight instructor could cause malfunctions realistic stress situations.

"Enough can go wrong without building more into a ship, I said, but the commandant had pull. His program was approved. I was flight instructor, and the commandant came along on the first training mission.

He gave the briefing himself, playing up the wise old veteran act.

"In the middle of it a cadet interrupted. excuse me, sir, but the U-33's primary thrust sequence is four-stage, not three.' The kid was gangly, all elbows and ears, and had this big chow-eating grin.

"The commandant was cold as permafrost. 'Since Cadet Solo is such a slick student; he will be first in the hotseat.' We all boarded and took off. Han handled everything the C.O. threw at him, and that grin grew bigger and bigger. He really had put in a lot of time on that kind of ship.

"That crate had checked out one hundred percent, but something went wrong and something blew; a second later we had all we could do to keep her in the air. I couldn't get the landing gear to extend, so I raised ground control and asked for emergency tractor retrieval.

"And the tractors failed, primaries and secondaries both, on the approach run. I just managed to get us up again. The commandant was white around the eyes by then; the crash wagons and firefighting machinery were deploying onto the field.

"Which was when Cadet Solo announced, The reservoirlocking valve on the landing gear's stuck shut, sir; these U33's do it all the time.

"And I said, 'Well, do you feel like crawling down into the gear bay and taking a wrench to it right this second?'

"No need,' the kid says, 'We can joggle it with a couple of maneuvers.'

"The commandant's teeth were rattling. 'You can't take a bulk vessel through aerobatics!' Then I said, 'You hope to sit in your mess kit. l can't, sir, because I don't know which maneuvers Slick over there is talking about. He'll have to do it.' While his mouth was hanging open, I reminded him he was ranking officer. either you land this beast or let the kid try out his idea.

"He shut up, but about that time there was a rumpus in the pa.s.senger compartment. The other cadets were becoming nervous. So Han opened the intercom. By order of the commandant, this is a full-dress emergency-landing drill. All procedures will be observed; you are being graded on your performance.

"I told him he was playing fast and loose with what might be somebody's last moments, and he told me to go ahead and tell them the truth if I wanted a panic in the hold. I let it fide. Han took control back.

"The U-33 isn't designed for the things Han did to that bird. He took her through three inverted outside loops to free up the locking claws. Our vision began to go. How Han coaxed lift from those inverted wings, I'll never know but he was smirking, hanging there from his harness.

"He went into barrel rolls to build centrifugal force in the reservoir. I thought he was going to rip the wings off and I almost took control back, but just then I got a board light. He had forced the valve open.

"But gravity could've swung it shut again, so he had to fly upside-down while the landing gear cranked out. The ship had begun losing alt.i.tude and the commandant was sort of frothing at the mouth, babbling for Han to pull out. Han refused. 'Wait for it, wait for it,' he said.

Then we heard this long grinding sound as the landing gear seated, and a clang as it locked.

"Han snap-rolled, hit full reverse thrusters, and hung out all the hardware. We uprooted two stop-nets and only lived because we landed into the wind. Jouncer landing, I tell you.

"They had to help the commandant off the ship. Then they deactivated that ship for good. Han locked down his board, just like the rule book says. 'Slick enough for you?' he asked. I said 'Slick.' That's how the nickname. started." It was fully dark now. The stars were luminous overhead, and both of Dellalt's moons were in the sky. "Badure, if it happened today," Hasti asked quietly, "would you tell those cadets they might die?" He sounded tired. "Yes. Even though they might've panicked. They had a right to know. The logical next question, then, was, "Well, what're our chances, the truth? Can we get the Falcon back, or even survive an attempt?" Skynx, and the automata, too, hung on his reply. Badure remained silent. Through his mind pa.s.sed the options lying, telling the truth, or simply rolling over and going to sleep. But when he opened his mouth to answer, he was interrupted.

"Depends on what we run up against," Han Solo said from the darkness, having returned so quietly that they hadn't heard him. "If camp security's loose, we could get away without losses. If it's tight, we have to tackle them somehow, maybe draw them out. Anyway, it means risk.

We'd probably have casualties and some of us might not make it. "

"Some? Admit it, Solo; you're so concerned with getting that ship of yours back that you're ignoring facts. Fuoch's got more hired killers than-"

"J'uoch's got portside brawlers and some small-time muscle," Han corrected Hasti. "If they were quality, they wouldn't be working for a two-credit outfit like hers. Handing some clod a gun doesn't make him a gunman. He stepped closer and she could see his silhouette against the stars. "They have the numbers, but the only real gunman within light-years is standing right in front of you." The craft was trim, sleek, luxuriously customized, a scoutship off the military inventory. Her approach and landing were exacting, and she set down precisely where .the Millennium Falcon had landed several days earlier. Her lone occupant emerged. The man was limber, graceful, though his movements were at times abrupt. Although he was tall and lean, his form seemed compact. His clothes were expensive and impeccable, of the finest materials, but somber-gray trousers and a high-collared white shirt with a short gray jacket over it. A long white scarf, knotted at his throat, fell in soft folds, and his black shoes shone. He wore his graying hair cropped short, but his mustachios were long, their ends gathered and weighted with two tiny golden beads, giving him a subtly roguish look. Townspeople appeared and cl.u.s.tered around him, just as they had greeted the Falcon's pa.s.sengers. But something .in this stranger's blue, unblinking eyes, something penetrating and without mercy, made them wary. He soon obtained from them the story of the Falcon's arrival and removal by the mining-camp ship. They showed him the spot .where the s.p.a.ceboat had been destroyed by the lighter. Even scavengers had avoided the bits of wreckage, fearing radiation residues. The stranger told the townspeople to disperse, and seeing the look in his eyes, they obeyed. He carefully removed his jacket and hung it inside his ship. Around his waist an intricately tooled black gunbelt held a blaster high on his right hip. He brought certain sensitive instruments from his ship, some on a carrying harness, others attached to a long probe, and still others set in a very sophisticated remoteglobe. Loosening his scarf, he made a patient examination of the area, working in a careful pattern. An hour later he returned the equipment to his ship and rubbed the dust from his gleaming shoes with a rag. He was satisfied that no one had died when J'uoch's s.p.a.ceboat had been destroyed. He reknotted his scarf while he considered the situation. Eventually, Gallandro. drew on his jacket and locked up his ship, then made his way into the city. He soon heard rumors of bizarre goings-on down at the lake and battles among the natives. He couldn't verify much about the outside humans involved, though; the only close-range witnesses, the sh.o.r.e gang of the sauropteroid Kasarax, had gone into hiding. Still, he was willing to credit the story. It was in keeping with Han Solo's wildly unpredictable luck. No, Gallandro corrected himself. "Luck" was what Solo would have called it. He, Gallandro, had long ago rejected mysticism and superst.i.tion. It made it that much more frustrating to see how events seemed to conspire to impel Solo along. Gallandro intended to prove that Solo was no more than he appeared to be, a small-time smuggler of no great consequence. That the gunman had doubtless given the matter far more thought than Solo himself was a source of ironic amus.e.m.e.nt to him. Using the vast resources of his employer, the Corporate Sector Authority, he had tracked Solo and the Wookiee this far and would, with only a little more patience, complete the hunt.

11.

"THERE'S something wrong," Han said, peering intendy through his blaster's scope in the morning light. "I'm not sure, but- Here, you look, Badure. "

"It just looks like a landing field to me," Hasti commented.

"Just because it's big and flat and has ships parked on it?" Han asked sarcastically. "Don't jump to any conclusions; after all, we may've stumbled onto the only used-aircraft lot in these mountains." A stiff breeze at their backs blew down the narrow valley toward the field. It had been snowing heavily in the region; at the far edge of the flat area below, a snowfield sloped sharply downward toward the lowlands.

"It's not on any map I ever saw, " declared Badure, squinting through the scope.

"Doesn't mean a thing," Han replied. "The Tion Hegemony's survey-updating program is running something like a hundred and eighty years behind schedule and getting worse. And these mountains are full of turbulence and storm activity. A survey-flyover ship could've missed that place altogether. Even an Alpha Team or a full Beta Mission might not have caught it." Thinking it over, Han rubbed his jaw, feeling his growth of beard. He, like the others, was drawn and haggard from the march and had lost a good deal of weight. The knife cutacross his chin was healing well enough in the absence of a medi-pack.

"Badure's right," Hasti said,. holding the survey-map reader up close to her face. "There's nothing on her at all. And what's it doing out here anyway? Look, they had to have carved away half that cliff to build it. Han was concentrating on the field with his remarkably acute vision. There, guidance lights and warning beacons were dark, understandable at a hidden base; but they seemed to be of a very outdated design. He could make out several craft that appeared to be about the size of s.p.a.ceboats, and five larger ones. It was difficult to see any details because their tails and afterburners were pointed in his direction. Then he knew what was bothering him.

"Badure, they've got those ships parked and tied down with their rear ends into the wind." Since the craft on the field followed common aerodynamic design principles, the sensible way to position them would have been with their noses into the prevailing air currents. Badure lowered the scope and handed back Han's blaster. "The wind's been steady, at least since last night. Either they don't care what kind of knocking-around their ships will take if a storm kicks up, or the place is deserted."

"We haven't seen a soul down there," Hasti said. Han turned to Bollux. "Are you still getting those signals? "

"Yes, Captain. They originate from that antenna mast down there by the field, I would say. They're very weak. I only picked them up because the summit we climbed was close on a direct line of sight." Han and Bollux had ascended that summit, a laborious session of trudging and scrambling and occasionally climbing, because of a suspicion of Han's. In the mining camp, Hasti and Badure had heard rumors that J'uoch and her partners were increasing camp security. Adding to that an apparent interest in the mountains on the part of Lanni, Hasti's late sister, Han thought it possible the mountains were seeded with antipersonnel sensors that were somehow tied in with the treasure. On the chance that, if there were sensors, they would be active rather than pa.s.sive and therefore detectable, Han had taken the futilely protesting labor 'droid up to see if, now that they were approaching the lowlands, they could detect any signals. Using his built-in command-signal receiver, Bollux had tried all the standard calibrations and, when those yielded nothing, sampled others. Finally he had picked up a signal of along-outmoded sort, and Han had taken a rough fix on it. The signal had led the group to this narrow valley, and the morning revealed what was apparently a landing field bracketed in stone. They had been marching through the mountains for days; songs and high spirits had given way to sore feet, overworked servo-motors, aching muscles, and shoulders chafed by pack straps. The visit to the spa at the University of Rudrig seemed to Han like a dream of another life. According to the map, they were very nearly through the mountains. That map had turned out to be their most important piece of equipment, allowing them to choose the easiest course. Nonetheless, they had hit a number of places where they had had to climb, where Skynx suddenly became a major a.s.set. The Ruurian could scale or descend sheer rock faces, carrying one end of a climbing rope with him. Without Skynx, Han knew, they would still be somewhere far back in the mountains. As it was, their food was running low. Fortunately they had managed to find water on their. route. But even after they left the mountains they would still have to cross an expanse of open plains before reaching the mining site. A common thought was running through the group's respective biological and synthetic synapses acquisition of a ship, even an atmospheric craft, would mark an end to their walking days In addition, the field might offer supplies as well as transportation.

"Could this be what Lanni was curious about?" Badure wondered aloud.

"We'll see," Han decided. They had concealed themselves behind some rocks within a kilometer of the field. "Che wie and I'll go in first. If we give the all-clear sign, come on down." He demonstrated a broad waving motion, left to right. "But if we don't signal you within a half hour, or we give you any other kind of signal, get yourselves out of here. Write us off and try to reach the mining site, or double back to the city if that's what seems best."

Han and the Wookiee started shedding their extra gear. "I'm not so sure we shouldn't have stayed in the city," said Hasti. Han tried to rea.s.sure her. "You would be if you'd ever done any time swabbing out the plumbing in some local lockup, doll. You ready, Chewie?" He was. They moved out, taking turns advancing from cover to cover. Each awaited the other's hand motion before moving; they had done this sort of thing together before. They observed no sentries, patrols, watchtowers, or surveillance equipment as they approached; but they felt no less uneasy.

When at last they reached the edge of the field, they held a brief but heated debate conducted entirely in hand signals, over who would, be first to step into the open. Each insisted that he should be the one. Han cut the dispute short, just before it devolved into an exchange of angry gestures, by rising and stepping out from the cover of the boulder.

Chewbacca, eyes roving the scene, bowcaster raised and ready, immediately shifted to a position from which he could give supporting fire. Han slowly moved across the open area, blaster out, nerves taut. No shot or outcry came-and no alarm. The field was a simple expanse of flat ground-partly smoothed soil and partly rock that, from the looks of it, had been leveled a long time ago. Han wondered why somebody hadn't done a complete job and paved it over with formex or some other surfacing material. He saw no buildings of any kind-only the primitive antenna mast, ground beacons, ground-control light cl.u.s.ters, and area illumination banks. He skirted the edge of the field, darting in among the rocks without warning to make sure no one was waiting in ambush. He reemerged and continued working his way toward the parked ships. When he was satisfied that n.o.body had a gun turret or missile tube pointed at him from one of the craft, he approached them. And when he had come close enough to make out detail, he had difficulty speaking for a second. What the flaming-"Hey, Chewie! Get over here!" The Wookiee was out in the open instantly, racing toward him, bowcaster held high. His charge slowed to a distracted lope, then immobility as he saw what Han was talking about. He gave a bemused, lowing sound.

"That's right," Han agreed, slamming the side of one of the ships with his fist. It gave, leaving a deep indentation. "They're phonies."

Chewbacca came up slowly, shouldering his weapon, and took a firm grasp on the hatch of the next ship in line. He tore it off easily it was merely a mockup constructed of treated extrusion sheeting and light structural alloys. He cast the hatch aside with a brayed Wookiee.

imprecation and leaned into the open hatchway. Light came through the clear pane used to simulate the c.o.c.kpit windshield. The dummy ship, ribbed by support members, was gloomy, stalesmelling, and empty. Han, examining the ships and the general layout of the field, was stumped.

Nonetheless, he kept his pistol in his hand. The mockups were crude but had been made with obvious attention to details of landing gear, fuselage, propulsors, and control surfaces. They were copied-at least, he presumed them to have been copied-from models he didn't recognize and secured in place with lines of some artificial fiber. His first thought was that this was a decoy base, part of some military campaign or defense system. But there had been no organized conflict on Dellalt or, for that matter, in this sector of s.p.a.ce for years and years. Furthermore, this fake landing field must demand a certain amount of upkeep to be in the shape it was. A trick of Yuoch's? No logic sustained that. Chewbacca was more instinctive. In his mind the place conjured images of some malign force using the field as a sort of trap, like those of the webweavers on the lower tree levels of his home planet. Nervously glancing around, eager to be away, he set one paw against Han's shoulder to get him moving. The pilot shrugged off the paw. "Take it easy, will you? This place might still have some stuff we can use. Take a quick look around while I check out that antenna mast." The Wookiee shambled off unenthusiastically. He made a rapid, thorough sweep of the area, discovering no watchers, no tracks, nor any fresh scents. When Chewbacca returned, Han straightened from his examination of the instrument pods at the mast. "It runs off some kind of sealed power plant, a little one. It might have started broadcasting yesterday or been going for years and years. I gave the others the signal to come ahead." Chewbacca whined unhappily, wanting only to depart from this place. Han was losing patience. "Chewie, I'm getting tired of this. There's receiver gear here that we can use to check for sensors and get a bearing on J'uoch's mining camp. This thing's been beaming for a whole day at least; if anybody in this miserable solar system were coming, they'd be here by now. " That made the entire installation much more of a curiosity, he had to admit; but he didn't mention it, not wanting to make his towering sidekick any more nervous than he already was. Badure, Hasti, Skynx, and Bollux soon appeared and, when they had looked over the bogus landing field; voiced surprise and mystification.

"This isn't any part of J'uoch's operation, I'm sure," Hasf said.

Badure didn't add anything, but his expression conveyed discomfort.

Skynx's antennae were waving a little erratically, but Han chalked that up to the Ruurian's timidity.

"All right, " the pilot said briskly. "If we work fast, we'll be out of here inside of an hour. Bollux, I want to patch you and Max in on some of the equipment; one of Max's adaptor arms ought to fit. The rest of you fan out and keep your eyes open. Hey, Skynx, you feeling okay?"

The little Ruurian's antennae were waving even more p.r.o.nouncedly now. His head wobbled for a moment, then he shook himself. "Yes, I-felt strange for a second, Captain. Strain of the journey, I should imagine."

"Well, hang in there, old fellow. You'll make it." Han started off with the labor 'droid while the others began spreading out. Then he heard a panicked squeak and whirled to see Skynx collapse in a multilegged heap, antennae vibrating. "Stay away from him!" Han shouted. Hasti fairly jumped back. "What's happened to him?" "I don't know, but it's not going to happen to us." They had too few facts to decide with any accuracy what was wrong with him; it could be a disease, or something natural to his peculiar physiology, perhaps even a part of the Ruurian life cycle. But Han wasn't going to risk having any other living members of the party contaminated. "Bollux, pick him up; we're pulling out of here. Everybody else, cover." They formed a ring, weapons ready, as the labor 'droid hoisted the small, limp form and held it easily in his gleaming arms. Han barked out instructions. "Chewie, take the lead. " But as they moved out Han found his own vision becoming blurry. He shook his head violently, which helped, but a surge of alarm made his breathing more rapid, and his heart began pumping furiously. They had only gone a few more paces when Badure, opening his flight jacket's collar, slurred "Whatever it is, I'm in it with Skynx. " He collapsed to the ground without another word, but his eyes remained open, his breathing regular. Hasti rushed to him, but she, too, was already unsteady on her feet. Chewbacca would have put out a paw to support her, but Han snagged a handful of his partner's pelt and pulled him back. "No, Chewie. We've got to get clear before it happens to us." Han knew that they might be able to come back and help the others later, but if -they succ.u.mbed now, no one was likely to survive. Without warning, Han's legs gave way. The Wookiee, chugging like a steam engine, shifted his bowcaster to one hand and reached for his friend. His prodigious strength seemed to give him additional resistance to whatever was affecting the others. He considered running for it, for Han's statement that someone must get clear was correct. But the Wookiee code of ethics left no room for desertion. Tugging at his friend, he made a mournful sound. Chewbacca wrestled his partner's slack body up onto his shoulder. Han, eyes still open, unable to speak, watched dully as the world spun by. Showing his fangs, the Wookiee put one broad foot in front of the other with determination. After a gallant struggle that brought him almost to the edge of the field, Chewbacca sank to his knees, nearly struggled up again, then pitched forward. Han regretted numbly that he couldn't tell his friend what a good try it had been. Bollux now found himself in a crisis of decision--all actions and inactions pointed to members of the group coming to harm or dying. Resolving a course of action nearly burned out his basic logic stacks. Then the 'droid put Skynx down, and the Ruurian curled up into a ball by reflex. Bollux began the task of dragging Han Solo to safety. The pilot was, in the 'droid's evaluation, the one most likely to aid the others by virtue of his talents, turn of mind, and stubbornness. As it happened, Chewbacca's fall had left Han in a position from which he could see Bollux approach. He wanted to tell the 'droid to take Chewbacca instead, but could form no words. Han's view of the 'droid was suddenly blocked by fantastic figures that leaped, capered, and circled around Bollux, gesturing and gibbering at him. They were dressed in bright costumes that were half-uniform, half-masquerade costume, and wore fantastic headgear, elaborate contrivances that suggested both helmet and mask. Even in his stupor Han registered the fact that they carried firearms of dive rse types. Han thought them to be humans. After a quick conference among themselves, the new arrivals began to push, pull, and shoo the distraught 'droid, forcing him out of Han's field of vision. The pilot was unable to move his head to follow the action. A masked head thrust in close to him, examining him, but Han couldn't move back or even flinch. The globular mask bore a strong resemblance to a high-alt.i.tude or s.p.a.cesuit helmet, but many of the details of instrumentation, pressure valves, hookups, and couplings were painted on. The air hoses and power-supply cords were useless tubes that dangled and swirled as the mask moved. Unintelligible words in a male human voice rang hollowly. Han felt himself being lifted, but distantly, as if he had been packed in a crate of dunnage beads.

Incidental views showed him that the same was happening to all the others except Bollux, who seemed to hate disappeared altogether. Then came a ride of uncertain duration. The lay of the land and the vagaries of the portage showed Han the rocky ground, Dellalt's blue-white sun, his companions being carried along by other captors, arid then the ground again, with no predictability. At last he saw a gaping hole in the terrain, an entrance to a subsurface area three times the size of the Falcon's main hatch The boulder that had hidden it was raised on six thick support jacks. Lowered, it would seal and camouflage the hole perfectly, Han knew, because he himself had prowled past it earlier in investigating the area. Wide pleated hoses had been brought up from beneath the surface. Their pulsations indicated that a gas was being pumped through them, but Han could detect nothing by sight or smell. This was how they had been paralyzed, then; he concluded dizzily that the fantastic headgear he had seen contained breathing filters or respirators. His bearers moved toward the opening. Suddenly darkness swirled all .around him. Either he drifted into and out of consciousness or the lighting in the underground area was only intermittent; it was impossible to tell which. He knew that once or twice he caught sight of - the sources of illumination primitive glow-rods arcing over the tunnels, like tracer trails of rockets, in soft colors of blue and green and red.

Han was carried past many rooms that seemed to serve a wide variety of functions. Once he heard sounds of adults chanting, then of children doing the same. There were the rhythms of heavy machinery, whirring turbines and banging switching panels, racing gears and the spitting, crackling openings and closings of ma.s.sive power bars. He smelled foods that were strange to him, and people, with all their various odors. He tried to concentrate, either to find a way out of his predicament or to experience his last moments fully, but instead kept drifting into pa.s.sivity. His first indication that the paralysis was wearing off was when he was unceremoniously dumped onto a cold stone floor; he didn't quite let out a yelp but came close. He hurt where he had hit his shoulder, back, and rump. He heard someone-Badure, he thought-groan. Han tried to sit up. A bad mistake; a flare ignited in his forehead. He lay back down, knowing now what had elicited Badure's groan. He clasped his forehead, a major victory of movement, and ran his tongue over his teeth, checking to see if fungus were really growing there. Suddenly an enormous s.h.a.ggy face was hovering over him. Chewbacca hauled him up by great fistsful of his flight jacket and sat him up against a large stone. Han's faltering hand went automatically to his holster and found it vacant.

That frightened him, but galvanized him as well. He clamped both hands to his head, whispering so that it wouldn't come apart. "Best time to escape's the soonest," he told his first mate. "Kick the door over and let's leg it." His friend urrfed with a disgusted gesture to the door.

Han made a major effort and looked up, setting off little shooting stars on the periphery of his vision. The door was barely discernible, an oblong of stone fitted into the wall so tightly that barely a hairline crack showed. There was a glow-rod on either side of it, but the rest of the room was unlit. Han frisked himself-no tools, no weapons, not even a toothpick. Badure and Hasti had been dumped together. Skynx was still rolled in a tight ball, but of Bollux there was no sign. The Wookiee plucked Han to his feet, and the pilot moved to one of the glow-rods and pulled it from its socket. The filament retained enough power to run independently for some time. Han moved farther into the chamber, waving the light as he explored; his partner trailed behind, huge fists ready.

"Check the size of this place!" Han found the breath to whisper.

The Wookiee grunted. The stone ceiling arced away into the gloom beyond the light. Han came upon row after long row of low stone monoliths, about the height of his sternum; twice as wide as they were high. He couldn't see an end to them. A voice behind them made both partners jump. "Where are we?" It was Hasti, who had just recovered enough to rise and follow.

"And what are those things? Shelves? Work tables? "

"Runways?" Han added, wincing at the throbbing in his head.

"Paperweights? Who knows? Let's look the rest of this granite gymnasium over. " At least, he thought, moving about would help counteract the paralysis. Best to let the others rest for now. But a search of the gargantuan room, which was about the size and shape of a medium s.p.a.cecraft hangar, yielded no' other doors, no other features at all, simply a vast s.p.a.ce filled with the stone slabs.

"The whole mountain's probably hollow," Han conjectured, keeping his voice low. "But I don't see how those hopping half-wits we saw could've done it." They started back toward the door. Chewbacca uttered a low sound. Han translated. "He's saying how dry it is in here. You'd expect it to be damp, from condensation if nothing else." Their footsteps clacked and echoed. By that time Badure was sitting up and Skynx had uncurled. Interrupting one another with several simultaneous conversations and frequent crossovers, they established the bare facts of what had happened.

"What will they do with us?" Skynx asked, not concealing his trembling.

"Who knows?" Han responded. "But they took Bollux and Max. I hope those two lads don't end up as drill bits and belt buckles. " He regretted now his own and Chewbacca's abuse of the aircraft mockups on the landing field, and wondered if this was the standard treatment of vandals, recalling the Swimmer Shazeen's comment that few travelers made it through the mountains. "Anyway, they haven't killed us out of hand; that's one thing in our favor, right?" Skynx did not seem comforted.

"I'm thirsty," Hasti announced, "and hungry as a Wookiee. "

"I'll summon room service," offered Han. "Marinated range-squab for four, and a few magnums of chilled T'iilT'iil? We'll get the place redecorated while we're at it." She snorted. "You should get the autovalet, Solo, and feed yourself into it; you look like a jet juicer just off an eight-day twister." Amused, Han glanced at her, giving her a long-suffering smile. Then he sighed and- sat down with his back against one of the stone slabs. Chewbacca lowered himself next to Han. "Hey, partner; forward guard to your center's flanking slot, six win-lose units."

Chewbacca fell into deep concentration, chin on fist, envisioning the gameboard match they would be playing on the Falcon. Without computer a.s.sistance, playing was much more difficult and involved, but it might help pa.s.s the time. Hasti went to stand before the chamber's single door.

Han looked up and saw that her shoulders were shaking, as was the glow-rod she held in her hand. He got up and went to comfort her, a.s.suming she was weeping, but she pushed his hand away, and it dawned on him that she was trembling in anger. Without warning, the girl flung herself at the door, swinging the glow-rod. It burst into splinters and a shower of sparks and blazing shards. She pounded the stone with the stump of the glow-rod, kicking it and beating it with her free hand, ranting maledictions she had learned in a life among the mining camps and factory worlds of the Tion Hegemony. Han and Badure approached her ,when the worst of her rage seemed spent. "n.o.body's locking me under some old mountain to rot!" she yelled. She swung randomly at the men with the battered stump of the glow-rod, and they found it more politic to duck than to grapple. "Part of that treasure's mine, and n.o.body better try to cut me out of it!" Puffing, drained, she shuffled over to where the Wookiee sat. Chewbacca had watched the proceedings curiously. Hasti dropped the glow-rod stump and sat down next to the Millennium Falcon's first mate. Han was about to say something, if only to comment on the intensity of her avarice, when a glissando from Skynx's flute sounded through the room. The Ruurian still wore his instruments. They had been cradled to his muddle, concealed by his woolly coat, when he had curled up He was tuning them in an absorbed way, shutting out his current distress, having perched on the slab against which Chewbacca and Hasti sat. Han went to listen While Badure stayed at the door to study it with the remaining glow-rod. In the halflight Skynx played a haunting tune full of longing and loneliness. Han dropped down next to Hasti and together they listened. The music made strange play with the acoustics of the vast s.p.a.ce. Skynx paused. "This is a song of my home colony, you see.

It's called 'By the Banks of the Warm, Pink Z'gag.' It's played at coc.o.o.n-weaving time, when the cycle's crop of larvae gather to go chrysalis. At the same time the previous cycle's coc.o.o.ns open and the chroma-wings come forth to exude their pheromones, which draw them to one another. The air is sweet and light then; gaiety is there." A large globule of emotion-secretion gathered at the corner of each faceted red eye. "This adventuring has been educational, but most of it is nothing more than danger and hardship a very long way from home. If I were ever to come to the banks of the Z' gag again, I would never leave!" He resumed playing the sad melody. Hasti, gazing vacantly into the darkness, was disheveled, but looked attractive nonetheless; nearly as pretty as when she had been gowned and primped onboard the Falcon. Han slipped an arm around her and she leaned against him, scarcely noticing him.

"Don't fold until the hand's over, " he encouraged her quietly. She turned to him with a labored smile, brushing her dirty fingers against his stubble of beard, tracing the raw scar across his chin. "You know, this is an improvement, Solo. You're not Slick now, not so smooth and careless." He leaned toward her and she didn't turn away. And then he kissed her. There was some question as to who was more surprised. Without parting, they settled into a more comfortable embrace, and gave the kiss serious attention. Skynx's music carried them along. She shoved herself free at last. "Han, oh, I-stop it; please, stop! " He retreated, confused. "The last thing I need is to get involved with you." Sounding wounded, he asked, "What's wrong with me?" "You run all over people and you never take anything seriously, for starters. You joke through life with that silly smirk on your face, so sure of yourself I want to bounce a rock off your skull!" She kept him at arm's length. "Solo, my sister Lanni inherited Dad's Guild book, so she had pilot's status here in the Tion. But I had to work any job I could get. Messhand, housegirl, sanit-crew, I've done them all in the camps, the mines, the factories. I've seen your type all my life. Everything's a big laugh, and you can charm the daylights out of people when you feel like it, but you're gone the next day and you never look back. Han, there are no people in your life!"

He protested, "Chewie-"

"-is your friend," she cut him off, "but he's a Wookiee. And you've got that pair of mechanical cohorts, Max and Bollux, and that hotshot starship of yours, but the rest of us are temporary cargo. Where are the people, Han?" He started to defend himself, but she overrode him.

Chewbacca, intrigued, forgot about his next gameboard move. "I'm sure you drive the portside girls wild, Solo; you look like you just stepped out of a holo-thriller. But I'm not one of them; never was, never will be."

She softened a bit. "I'm no different from Skynx. On my birthworld there's a stretch of land my parents used to own. I'm going to get my cut of the treasure, I swear on my blisters, and buy it back if I have to purchase the whole planet. I'll build a home and take care of Badure, because he took care of Lanni and me. I'll have things of my own and a life of my own. I'll share it if I meet the right man, but I'll live without him if I don't. Solo, light housekeeping in a starship isn't my idea of a dream come true!" She drew away from him and went to join Badure, pushing her fingers through the tangles of red hair. Skynx finished his sad song, then lowered his flute. "I wish I could see the home colony one more time, the air filled with the chroma-wings and their pheromones and the sounds of their wooing. What would you wish for, Captain Solo?" Staring absently after Hasti, Han shrugged. "Stronger pheromones." Skynx started. Then, sides rippling, began chortling in the Ruurian version of convulsive laughter, issuing chittering, high-pitched giggles. Chewbacca loosed a sustained howl of amus.e.m.e.nt, slapping his thigh with a huge paw, his mane shaking. That started Han chuckling ruefully. He reached up and gave Skynx a push; the Ruurian rolled over onto his back, t.i.ttering and kicking his short limbs in the air. A guffaw exploded from Badure and even Hasti, shaking her head in exasperation, shared the joke. Chewbacca, blue eyes tearing, slapped Han's shoulder, whereupon the pilot fell sideways, barely able to breathe for laughing.

In the midst of it all, the door swept open. Bollux was ushered in and the door closed before any of them could do more than gape. In another moment they had congregated around the 'droid, elbowing one another, their demands for information and their questions interrupting one another's. After a few seconds Badure shouted everyone down. They quieted, realizing he would ask the same questions as they anyway.

"What's happened? Who are those people? What do they want from us?"

Bollux made the strangely human self-effacing sounds he employed in approaching a delicate subject. "There's rather a surprising story here.