Han Solo And The Lost Legacy Part 5

It's somewhat complicated. You see, long ago, there was-"

"Come on, Bollux!" Han shouted, cutting through the cybernetic rhetoric, "What are they going to do with us?" The 'droid sounded dismayed. "I know it sounds absurd in this day and age, sir, but unless we can do something, you're all about to become, er, a human sacrifice.

12.

"BY which," Skynx said with a forlorn hope, "we may a.s.sume you mean only humans?

"Not quite," Bollux admitted. "They're not really sure what you and First Mate Chewbacca are, but they've concluded they have nothing to lose by sacrificing you. They're discussing procedures now." The Wookiee growled and Skynx's red eyes glazed. "Bollux, who are these people?" Han demanded.

"They call themselves the Survivors, sir. The signal we picked up was a distress call. They're waiting to be picked up. When I asked them why they didn't simply go to the city, they became very vexed and excited; they harbor a great deal of hatred for the other Dellaltians. I gathered that that animosity is tied up with their religion somehow. They are extreme isolationists."

"How did you find all this out?" Badure wanted to know. "Do they speak any Standard?"

"No, sir," the 'droid replied. "They speak a dialect that was prevalent in this section of s.p.a.ce prior to the rise of the Old Republic.

It was recorded on a language tape in Skynx's material, and Blue Max had stored it along with other information. Of course, I didn't reveal that Max exists; he translated for me in burst-signals and I conducted the conversation.

"A culture of pre-Republic origins," pondered Skynx, forgetting to be scared.

"Will you forget the homework?" snapped Hasti, then turned again to Bollux. "What's all, this about sacrifices? Why us?"

"Because they're waiting to be picked up," said the 'droid.

"They're convinced that life-form termination enhances the effect of their broadcast."

"So we stumbled in, a major power boost," mused Han, thinking of all those people who had disappeared in these mountains. "When's the big sendoff?"

"Late tonight, sir; it has something to do with the stars and is accompanied by considerable ritual. "

We've got just one trump card left, Han thought, then said, "I think that'll work out just fine." Their captors wasted no food or drink on them, which Han loudly proclaimed an indication that they had fallen into the hands of a low-cla.s.s outfit. But they still had plenty of time to question Bollux. The mountain warren was indeed a large complex, though it apparently housed what Bollux estimated to be no more than one hundred people living in a complicated family-clan group. Asked why he had been separated from them all, the 'droid could only say that the Survivors appeared to understand what automata were and held them in some awe. They had been adamant about the need to go forward with the sacrifice, but had bowed to his demands that he be permitted to see his companions. On the details of the sacrifice Bollux was less clear.

Ceremonial objects and equipment were being moved to the surface even as they spoke; the sacrifice was to take place on the mock-up landing field.

Although the 'droid had been unable to locate the confiscated weapons, the captives decided that any attempt at escape would have a better chance of success if made on the surface. Han revealed his plan to the others, vague as it was. "There are a lot of things that could go wrong, " Hasfi protested. Han agreed. "The worst of which is getting sacrificed, which will happen anyway. How long until nightfall?" She consulted her wrist chrono; there were many hours yet. They decided to rest. Chewbacca barked his gameboard move to Han, then settled down for a nap. Badure followed suit. Han scowled at the Wookiee, whose gameboard move was extremely unconventional. "Just because we're going to be sacrificed, you're playing a reckless game now?" The Wookiee flashed his teeth in a self-satisfied grin. Skynx appeared to be in deep conversation with Bollux, using the obscure dialect the Survivors spoke. Hasti had gone off to commune with her thoughts, and Han decided not to bother her. He wished urgently that the group could take some immediate course of action to dispel any brooding. None was available, so he settled into that-for him-most difficult of all tasks, waiting. The opening of the door brought Han out of a troubled sleep filled with visions of strangers doing terrible things to the Millennium Falcon. Then, abruptly, Survivors wearing their extravagant costumes, dashed into the quiet chamber, - carrying glow-rods and weapons, making resistance sheer folly. Their weapons were a fascinating a.s.sortment ancient beam-tubes powered by heavy backpacks, antiquated solid-projectile firearms, and several spring-loaded harpoon guns of the sort the lake men used. Han's worse fear, that the Survivors would use their anaesthetic gas again and thus preclude any action on their captives' part, was unrealized. He found himself breathing easier for that; he had no intention of ending his life pa.s.sively. With shouted instructions and gesticulations the Survivors herded their captives out of the chamber. They formed a forward and rear guard, keeping their. weapons trained watchfully so there would be no opportunity for mishap. Chewbacca rumbled angrily through it all and nearly turned on one Survivor, who had jabbed the Wookiee with a harpoon gun to hurry him along. Han restrained his friend; all the other Survivors were out of reach, and there was no place to hide in the stone corridors. They had no choice but to move as ordered. This time Han got a clearer impression of the underground warren. The corridors, like the chamber in which they had been held, were carefully and precisely cut, arranged along an organized central plan, their walls, floors, and ceilings fused solid to serve as support. Thermal plates warmed them, but Han could see no dehumidifying equipment, though he was certain it must exist. Everything implied a technology in excess of what the Survivors seemed capable of fully utilizing. Han was willing to bet these capering primitives did simple maintenance by rote and that the knowledge of the original builders had been lost long ago. He saw unhelmeted Survivors for the first time, mainbreed humans who, aside from an unusual number of congenital defects, were unremarkable. The prisoners pa.s.sed heated, well-lit hydroponic layouts. The glow-rods and thermal plates in them made Han wonder about the power source; something suitably ancient, he presumed, perhaps even an atomic pile. Badure's thoughts had been paralleling his own. "Regression, " the old man said. "Maybe the base was built by stranded explorers, or early colonists?"

"That wouldn't explain their unreasoning shunning of the other Dellaltians," Skynx put in. "They must have taken elaborate precautions to avoid notice all this time, even in these desolate-" He was silenced when a Survivor singled him out with the end of a beam-tube, gesturing with unmistakable fury. Conversation stopped. Han saw that Bollux had been right; the warren had clearly been built for many more people than now occupied it. In some stretches light and heat had been shut down to conserve power or had failed altogether. They pa.s.sed a room from which odd, rhythmic sounds issued. For just an instant when he drew even with the doorway, Han had a view of the interior. Colored lights strobed in the darkness, flas.h.i.+ng on the walls and ceiling in arresting swirls and patterns. Someone was chanting in the Survivors' tongue; underscoring the chant was the pulsing of a transonic synthesizer, as much felt as heard.

Han almost stopped short and had to step quickly to keep from being jabbed with a harpoon, thinking, Hypnoimprinting! Crude version, but completely effective if you catch your subjects early enough. Poor kids.

It explained a lot. Then they felt cold night air on their faces and their breath crystallized before them. They left the Survivors' warren by a different door than that by which they had entered. The mockup landing field was a different sight in the night than it had been during the day; it was now a scene of barbaric ceremony. The stars and Dellalt's two moons brightened the sky; glow-rods and streaming torches lit the entire area, reflected by the sides of the dummy aircraft. At the edge of the ritual field, by the steep snowfield that sloped to the valley below, a large cage had been erected, a pyramid of bars, a.s.sembled piecemeal. Its door was a thick, solid plate, its lock in the center, inaccessible from within the cage. Near the cage was a circle of gleaming metal, broader than Han was tall, suspended from a framework, suggesting an enormous gong. It was inscribed with lettering of an unfamiliar type, consisting of whorls and squares alternating with dots and ideographs. Closer in, toward the center of the light, was a wide metal table, a medi-lab appurtenance of some kind. Near it were piled the prisoners' weapons and other equipment. The implication of the table hit them at once a sacrificial altar. Han was ready to make a break then and there; the pyramidal cage seemed firmly anch.o.r.ed to the rock, so st.u.r.dy that even Chewbacca's thews wouldn't prevail against it. But the Survivors had been through this procedure before. They were alert and careful, with weapons trained in clear lines of fire. Han noticed that the muzzles and harpoons were pointed toward the captives' legs. If the scheduled sacrificees made any wrong moves, the Survivors could shoot and still not be deprived of their ritual. This decided the pilot against any immediate action. There was still a chance his plan would work, provided Bollux and Blue Max were flexible enough to adapt to circ.u.mstances as they arose. The 'droid was separated from the rest of them, complying with their captors as Han had instructed him. The other captives were chivvied to the cage, ushered to the circular door plate that swung open on oiled hinges. It took every sc.r.a.p of Han's resolve to enter the pyramid; once inside he stood there closely watching the Survivors' preparations. The strange people were decked out in their finest garb. Now that he understood a little more about them, Han could interpret the Survivors' costume. A ground-crewman's blastsuit had become, over generations, an insect-eyed getup.

s.p.a.cesuit speaker grilles had evolved into pointy-fanged mouths painted on imitation helmets; communication antennae and broadcast directors were represented by elaborate spikes and antlers of metal. Back tanks and suit packs were adorned with symbolic designs and mosaics, while tool belts were hung with fetishes, amulets, and charms of all kinds. The Survivors whirled, leaped, and tootled their instruments, striking finger chimes and drums. Two of them beat the great wheel of metal with padded mallets, the gongings resounding back and forth across the valley. With the prisoners' arrival, things began to build toward a climax. A man mounted a rostrum that had been set near the altar. A silence fell. The man wore a uniform festooned with decorations and braid; his trousers were seamed with golden cloth. He wore a hat that was slightly small for him, its military brim glittering with giltwork, a broad, flas.h.i.+ng medallion riding its high crown. Two aides set a small stand on the rostrum be side him. It held a thick circle of transparent material about the size of a mealplate.

"A log-recorder disk! " exclaimed Skynx. The others competed to ask him if he was sure. "Yes, yes; I've seen one or two, you know. But the Queen of Ranroon's is back in the treasure vaults, is it not? What one is that, then?" No one could answer. The man on the rostrum regaled the crowd, delivering loud phrases that they echoed back to him, applauding, whistling, and stomping their feet. Flickering torchlight made the scene seem even more primeval. "He's saying they've been a good and faithful people, that the proof is there with him on the rostrum; and that the High Command won't forget them," Skynx translated. Han was amazed. "You understand that garble?" "I learned it as Bollux did, from the data tapes, a preRepublic dialect. Can they have been here that long, Captain?

"Ask the Chamber of Commerce. What's he saying now? "

"He said he's their Mission Commander. And something about mighty forces afoot; the rescue they've been promised will surely come soon. I-something about their generations of steadfastness, and deliverance by this High Command. The crowd keeps chanting ur signal will be received." With a final tirade the Mission Commander gestured to the pyramidal cage. Until now Bollux had stood to one side of the proceedings, surrounded by gray-clad, masked Survivors who chanted and rattled prayer clackers at him, descendants of techs entrusted with maintenance of machinery. But now the 'droid broke out of their ring, moving quickly to take advantage of the surprise he had caused. He crossed to stand with his back to the pyramid's door. The Survivors who had been about to fetch their first victim for the "transmission"

wavered, still awed by the automaton. The 'droid hadn't been able to secure a weapon, -a departure from Han's vague plan, but felt that he could wait no longer to make his move. Even in the rush of events Han wondered about the origin of the Survivors' reverence for, mechanicals.

Surely there had never been a 'droid or robot through these mountains before? The Mission Commander was exhorting his followers. Bollux, his photoreceptors glowing red in the night, slowly opened the halves of his chest plastron. Blue Max, carefully coached by the labor 'droid, activated his own photoreceptor, playing it across the crowd. Han heard sounds of indrawn breath among the Survivors. Max switched from optical scanning to bolo-projection mode. A cone of light sprang from him; there hovered in the air an image he had recorded off Skynx's tapes, the symbol of Xim the Despot, the grinning death's head with the starburst in each black eye socket. From his vocoder came recorded tech readouts from the tapes in the language of the Survivors. The crowd drew back, many of them thrusting their thumbs at Bollux to fend off evil. Max put forth more images he had taken from the information Skynx had compiled an ancient fleet of s.p.a.ce battlewagons in flight against the stars; the brilliance of a full-scale engagement with exploding missiles, flaring cannonfire, and probing lasers; battle standards pa.s.sing in review, displaying unit colors that had been forgotten long ago. The entire time, the 'droid was surrept.i.tiously edging to the pyramidal cage's door. While the crowd was riveted to Max's performance, Bollux manipulated the door's handle behind his back. A yell went up from the a.s.sembled Survivors just as Bollux succeeded in throwing the bolt on the stubborn lock. Blue Max had projected a halo of the war-robot's cranial turret that Skynx had brought onboard the Millennium Falcon. Max held the image, capitalizing on their response; rotating it to show all sides. The Survivors jabbered animatedly among themselves, moving back from the frightening ghost-holo.

Bollux stepped away from the cage door. Max began running through all the other visual information he had stored about Xim's war-robots.

Schematics, manual-extracts, re cords of the ponderous combat machines in motion, closeup details of construction, and full-length views. All the while, Bollux moved slowly forward. Step by step the crowd yielded ground, seemingly hypnotized by Max's projections. In the excitement and poor light n.o.body noticed that the cage door was now unlocked.

"He may not be able to hold them much longer," Han whispered.

Bollux was now at the center of a near-circle of Survivors. "Time to jump," Badure said. Han agreed. "Make your way to the edge of the field.

n.o.body stops for anybody else, understood?" Hasti, Badure, and even Skynx nodded. Unarmed, they could do little except run from the Survivors. Each individual would be responsible for his own life; stopping to give aid would be suicidal and expected of no one. Han swung the door open slowly and stepped through. Shouting, gesticulating Survivors were still occupied with Bollux. The Mission Commander had left his rostrum to try to make his way through the crowd to Bollux, but was having trouble making headway through the press of his own people. Han waited while the others emerged. Chewbacca slipped through the door and moved off like a shadow. Badure moved with less agility, then Hasti. Skynx exited and set off at once for the edge of the field. Low to the ground, he was nearly impossible to see. The Ruurian didn't pause or look back; he adhered to Han's directions completely, having acquired some of the necessary makeup of an adventurer. Han moved around the end of the cage to bring up the rear. He nearly backed into Hasti. "Where's Badure? " she mouthed silently. They couldn't spot him at first, then made out the old man as he nonchalantly strolled around the edge of the crowd, heading for the abandoned altar where the weapons lay. No one paid him any heed; all of them were transfixed by Max's holos of a war-robot being put through its paces, firing weapons, and lumbering through basic infantry tactics.

"He's going for the guns," Han whispered. Chewbacca, who had also paused, stood with them, watching the old man's progress.

"We can't help him now; he either makes it or not. We'll wait at the edge of the field as long as we can. " He didn't know if he was happy Badure was trying for their weapons, feeling naked and helpless without his blaster, or dismayed that the old man was risking his life. Just then a Survivor sentry, coming in off his post, stepped out of the darkness and nearly stumbled over Skynx. The Ruurian chirped in fear and went into reverse. The guard's eyes bulged in amazement at the woolly, many-legged creature, then he fumbled for the flame-rifle at his shoulder, crying out an alarm. A s.h.a.ggy arm reached out and the weapon was s.n.a.t.c.hed from his hands. Chewbacca's fist shot through the air and the guard was lifted, stretched out stiff as a post, to fall on the landing field, his left foot quivering. People on the fringe of the crowd had heard the guard and repeated the alarm. Heads turned; in a moment the shout was taken up by many voices. Han ran, took the bell-mouthed flame-rifle, and slewed it in a wide, horizontal arc. A wash of orange fire streamed over the heads of the crowd. Survivors dropped to the ground, grabbing for their weapons and screaming conflicting orders at one another. Han could hear the shrieking Mission Commander trying futilely to bring order out of chaos.

Badure, having reached the altar, was out of the crowd's immediate line of sight. He shouldered Chewbacca's bowcaster and bandoleer of ammunition and began tucking weapons into his belt. Shots were now being pegged across the field at them. "Keep out of the way! " hollered Han, elbowing Chewbacca behind him. He backed slowly, covering the withdrawal and creating a diversion for Badure. He directed his discharges into the ground between himself and the ma.s.sed Survivors, making puddles of fire to spoil their aim and sending inter mittent streamers of flame over them to force their heads down. A line of tracer bullets chewed up the field a meter or, two to his right, and a pale particle beam barely missed his head. The escapees needed cover badly, but their section of the field was open and offered none. Chewbacca, with sudden inspiration, ran for the gong and, back and arm muscles swelling with effort, lifted it from its support hooks, his widespread arms grabbing it by two carrying handles welded to its back. The slugs, beams, and flames of the firefight dissected the air. The Survivors' shots were gaining in accuracy, though they weren't used to such a pitched battle. Badure, running in a low crouch to work his way back to his companions, was spotted by the crowd.

Somebody let fly with an old rocket pistol, blowing up a clot of stone in his path. In a frantic effort to change course, Badure lost his balance, and Survivors' shots began to converge on him. Chewbacca grounded the gong in front of Han as he and the others took shelter behind it.

Projectile and energy weap- ons splashed and ricochetted from the s.h.i.+eld; whatever the gong was made of, it was very durable material. Han blazed away at the Survivors to keep them from pressing the attack against Badure. He had been spending the flame-rifle's ammo recklessly and knew he might soon find himself defenseless. Badure, struggling to rise, was having trouble. The Survivors' aim was zeroing in on him now, and he returned the fire as well as he could. 1 warned him, thought Han. LifeDebt or no, it's everyone for himself. He had trouble selling the idea to himself, though. Then the decision was taken from him. Issuing a deafening Wookiee battle cry, Chewbacca moved off, holding up the gong to protect himself. Han looked back and saw that Hasti and Skynx were watching him. The girl, he thought, would surely run to help Badure if he didn't.

"Don't just stand there," he snarled. "Get to cover!" He gave her a shove toward the edge of the field and dashed off the other way, laying down heavy fire as he sprinted, zigzagging after the Wookiee.

"You crazy fur-face! " he roared at his first mate when he had caught up to him. "What're you doing, playing captain again?" Chewbacca took a moment from angling and maneuvering the gong for an irritated, explanatory growl.

"Life-Debt? " Han exploded, dodging around his friend into the open to snap off a pair of quick shots. "And who pays up if you lose us ours?"

But he maintained his fire, sideskipping along behind the straining, gong-toting Wookiee and bounding from cover to either side of him to get off a shot or two. Flames lit the scene, and the air was smoky and hot from the firefight. The flame-rifle's discharges were growing weaker, and its range was decreasing. Skirting a section of field torn and ruptured by the battle, they finally reached Badure, who was pressed down flat on the ground, shooting with the pair of long-barreled power pistols.

Chewbacca heaved the gong between the old man and the oncoming shots. Han coaxed a last feeble flicker from the flame-rifle, then threw it aside.

Dropping to one knee, he helped Badure up. "Last bus is leaving now, Lieutenant-commander."

"I'll take a one-way on that," panted Badure, adding, "glad you could make it, boys." Han snagged his own blaster from Badure's belt, and a sudden confidence steadied him. He stepped into the clear, crouched low, and let off a series of quick shots. Two Survivor marksmen who had been taking careful aim with heavyparticle beamers fell away in different directions, their wounds smoking. Han ducked back, waited a beat, then stepped into the open again on the same side of the gong, eluding the aim of those who had been waiting to see him emerge on the opposite side. His bolts dropped two more enemies from the ragged firing line. But Survivor flankers could be seen in the wavering light, fanning out to either side in an effort to cut off retreat.

"Let's jump!" Han cried. Chewbacca began backpedaling, still.

holding the gong, and headed for the field's edge as Badure and Han kept up the most intense fire they could, pinning down the Survivors facing them and impeding the flankers. Their energy weapons lit the night, answered by bullets, blaster bolts, needles, harpoons, particle beams, and gushes of flame. Han occasionally a.s.sisted the Wookiee's progress with a judicious shove. Someone came toward them. Badure nearly burned the f silhouetted form before Han batted the power pistol aside. "Bollux!

Over here!" The 'droid somehow made it to the gong's cover; they with., drew step by hotly contended step. A group of Survivor flankers was nearly in position to enfilade them, crouching by the antenna mast.

Badure held both long-barreled weapons up side by side and fired at the flankers. Men fell and the instrument shorted out; the mast's power supply was drained in a swirl of energy, and the mast fell, wreathed in crackling discharges. It crashed into the rostrum and rostrum, frame, and log-recorder disk went up in flames. Han heard his named called. Skynx and Hasti crouched at the edge of the field. Firing and scrambling, the others joined them. "We can't retreat down that snowfield; it's too steep," Hasti declared; "and even Chewbacca couldn't carry that gong down. We'd make perfect targets out there." Han dealt out a few more shots, pondering her reasoning and their lack of alternatives. Then Chewbacca, surveying I the situation, barked a quick scheme to him.

"Partner, you are crazy," Han exclaimed, not without a certain respect.

But he saw no nonfatal alternative. "What's keeping us?" He pulled the others closer and explained the plan. They readied themselves, having no time for fear or doubts. Then Han yelled. "Chewie! Go!" The Wookiee backped aled to the edge of the field, whirled, stooped, and laid the concave gong down, its curved surface indenting the hard, icy snowfield.

Han fired furiously. Badure dropped awkwardly onto the gong and grabbed a carrying handle. Bollux climbed onto the opposite side of the rim, locking servo- grips onto two more handles. Skynx swarmed aboard and clung tightly around the 'droid's neck, antennae flailing. Hasti braced herself next to Badure, and Chewbacca had to brace his broad feet in the snow at the tug of the gong's weight. Han still stood, keeping up a heavy volume of fire. He shouted, "I'll pile on last!" Chewbacca didn't take time to argue; he swept out one long arm, gathered his friend in like a child, and threw himself onto the gong. Shots from the Survivor flankers crisscrossed overhead. The Wookiee's impetus and weight gave them a quick start. The gong gathered speed, spinning and sliding as it cut along the icy slope. Chewbacca lifted his head and uttered a foghorn-like hoot of elation, to which Skynx added a " Weeee hee-ee!" The gong tilted and rotated to the left as it swished across the snow. Chewbacca threw his weight the other way; they bounced and slid on a fairly even keel for a few seconds, then hit a small rock outcropping in the snowfield. They were airborne, all hands seeking a grip and flailing to stay aboard; to fall from the gong now and slide the rest of the way without protection would mean severe laceration by ice shards and shattered bones from the hardened patches and rocks. They came down again with a breath-stealing jolt; everyone, miraculously, contrived to cling to the bucking, jarring gong. Han grabbed Hasti, who, in helping Badure, had neady lost her own grip. The Falcon's master encircled her waist with his free arm while she clenched a handful of Badure's flight jacket. Badure, in turn, had locked legs with Chewbacca, helping the Wookiee steer by leaning and tugging at the handles. Chewbacca, like the others, could barely see; their headlong speed through the icy air had stung everyone's eyes to tears and was numbing their exposed skin. In leaning abruptly to the side, the Wookiee succeeded in guiding their mad descent around a prow of stone that would have smashed them all, but in the process he lost his balance. Bollux quickly s.h.i.+fted his central torsional member and secured his legs around the Falcon's first officer's. Badure held on to Chewbacca, too, reaching out with a free hand to help steady the Wookiee. But in doing so he saw he was about to lose Chewbacca's bowcaster and bandoleer. He cried out, his words stolen instantly by the wind, but Han was busy clinging to a handle and hanging onto Hasti and she to Badure, while Badure and Bollux were committed to keeping Chewbacca aboard. Meanwhile, the Wookiee devoted all his attention to what could only in the most ludicrous sense be termed "steering." And so Skynx, facing the fact that only he was free to act, released his grip on the 'droid with all but his last set of limbs. He was dragged around at once, very nearly snapped like a whip, reaching with his free extremities. Just as Badure's scrabbling efforts to hang on to the bowcaster failed, Skynx got close enough to grasp the weapon and was abruptly thrown in the other direction as the gong changed course again. The small Ruurian now clung to his only mainstay, Bollux, by the digits of his lowermost limbs, which clenched precariously on the 'droid's shoulder pauldron. But he determinedly hung on to the weapon and ammunition, knowing they might be needed badly and that there was no one to catch them if he failed. With each b.u.mp and rotation of the gong, Skynx felt his grip loosening, but he hugged his burden resolutely. One by one, he began to find purchase for his other limbs. Chewbacca felt him fumbling, s.h.i.+fted his leg as much as he was able, and Skynx managed to fasten two sets of limbs to the Wookiee's thick knee. They were at the steepest part of the insane plunge, shear ing through the snowfield, rocking in furrows, and smas.h.i.+ng out of depressions in the surface.

Several times Han saw energy beams of various hues register hits in the snow, but always far wide of their mark. As targets go, we must be pretty fast and furious. He clung doggedly, fingers, ears, and face numbed by the cold, eyes streaming a constant flow of tears. "My fingers are slipping!" cried Hasti with unmasked fear. "I can't feel them. " Han knew with a sense of utter futility that he could do little to help her. He griped her as tightly as he could, hoping that his frozen fingers would hold.Badure yelled, "We're slowing down!" Chewbacca bellowed pure joy.

Hasti began to half-laugh, half-sob. The gong had reached a gentler portion of the slope close to the foot of the snowfield and was losing speed moment by moment. The b.u.mps and jolts became less dramatic, the spinning less p.r.o.nounced. In seconds they were coasting.

"An excellent job, First Mate Chewbacca," Bollux was saying, when suddenly the gong's rim hit a slab of rock that lifted it into the air like a jump ramp. Frozen hands, servogrips, Ruurian digits, and Wookiee toes, all lost their final struggle. The gong threw them free. Human bodies, the tubular Skynx, a yeowling Chewbacca, and gleaming Bollux sailed through the air on a.s.sorted trajectories, cartwheeling, tumbling, spinning-and falling.

13.

HAN heard the whine of servo-motors over the moan of wind. From where he lay, mostly buried by the mound of snow he had sc.r.a.ped up on his landing approach, he could see Bollux draped belly-up over a low s...o...b..nk. The halves of the 'droid's chest plastron opened up and outward. Blue Max's vocoder bl.u.s.tered. "Hey! Let's get moving; we're not out of it yet!" A drift to Han's right sloughed and erupted. Chewbacca appeared, spitting out snow and rumbling an acid remark to the diminutive computer module.

"No, he's tight," Han groaned to his partner. He raised himself on unsteady arms and gazed up the slope, foggily curious about whether his head was actually going to fall off or if it simply felt that way. A bobbing column of lights was wending its way down the snowfield from the Survivors' base. Their former captors were in hot pursuit.

"The short circuit's right on the money, folks; everybody up!" Han thrashed and floundered in the snow for a moment, -_ then pulled himself to his feet and began beating his hands together to bring some sensation back. Hasti was also struggling up. Han caught her hand and pulled her to her feet. She ran over to see to Badure. Chewbacca had just reclaimed his bowcaster and bandoleer from Skynx, whom he had dug free. The Wookiee growled his grat.i.tude, patting and stroking the Ruurian's woolly back in a gruff gesture of thanks. Hasti was chafing Badure's hand's and wrists, trying to get him upright. Han moved to help and saw that the tip of the old man's nose and patches on his cheeks were whitened.

"He's getting frostbite. On deck, Trooper; time to depart the area.

" They pulled him up Meanwhile, with Chewbacca's help, Bollux was once more upright. Counting heads before striking off, Han spied Skynx bent over the gong, which had fallen face up, a flattened dome in the snow.

The Ruurian was making minute examination of the whorls and patterns on the ancient metal, laboring to see in the light of moons and stars. When Han called him, the academician yelled back. "I think you'd better see this first, Captain." They all gathered around him. His small digits traced the raised characters. "I thought I recognized these when I first saw this object, but I was too hurried to study them. All these," a splay of digits indicated groups of characters, "are technical notations and operating instructions. They have to do with pressure equalization and fastening procedures."

"Then it comes from a hatch," Badure concluded, his m.u.f.fled voice coming through hands cupped to thaw out his cheeks and nose. "Some kind of decorative facing off an airlock hatch, a big one. " Skynx agreed. "'A peculiar and rather ostentatious appointment, but that is the case. Those several larger characters there in the center give the vessel's name. "

He turned bulbous red eyes to them. "It's the Queen of Ranroon!" In the middle of a tumult of voices-human, non-human, and electronic-Han stood imagining the treasure of entire worlds. Though cold, near exhaustion, pursued, and starved, he suddenly found himself charged with limitless energy and a dramatic determination to live and to claim the Queen's wealth. They were interrupted. Han's thoughts and the confused conversations springing from Skynx's revelation were cut short by a long note sounding in the night, a wail from a hunting horn or other signaling device. That brought them all up short. The bobbing lights of the pursuing Survivors' column were now well down the slope. Now and then one would drop from the line and disappear as its bearer lost footing on the treacherous snowfield and fell tumbling. Led by Han, the escapees set out in a staggering string, helping one another as well as they could; fortunately, the snow wasn't very deep. They reached down to scoop up handfuls of the stuff to melt in their mouths, trying to relieve the dehydration of their captivity. Beating his gloved hands together, Han considered what the hatch cover might mean. Were the Survivors guarding Xim's treasure in their mountain warren? What had become of the Queen of Ranroon? Hasti caught up to.-him in the struggling line of march. "Solo, I've been doing some thinking. The congregation back there isn't just tooting their horns to hear the echoes and let us know they're coming. I think they have patrols out and are calling the forces out on us." He stopped, deriding himself for having been preoccupied with the treasure.

Hasti repeated her reasoning to the others. "We're not too far from the snow line," Badure observed. "Perhaps that's the limit to their territory." Han shook his head. "We messed up church for them and left quite a few of them in some pain. They're coming for blood and they won't stop just because the snow does. We'd better take up a better formation.

Chewie, walk the point." The Wookiee padded off quietly; cold and snow didn't bother him. Protected by his thick p elt, he slipped off, keeping to the cover of the increasingly frequent rocks and boulders. The others followed more slowly in his wake, slowed because they were bereft of his giant, supportive strength. But within minutes the Wookiee was back to draw them down into the cover of a particularly large boulder and tell Han, in quick gutterals, what he had encountered. "There're more of them, coming up this way," Han translated. "Chewie thinks we can hide here and wait them out. When they're past, we go on. Still and quiet, everybody."

They waited for oppressive minutes, straining to make no noise, no s.h.i.+ft of position or other movement that might betray them. Han slowly turned his head to check the progress of the Survivors from their base.

The lights had made their way to the gentler part of the slope and fanned out for a ground search. There was a slight sound, the smallest movement of rock and crunch of ice. Everyone tensed. A shape moved stealthily into view, keeping to available cover. The approaching Survivor was uncostumed but wore a hood and heavy clothing. The scout's head turned slowly, searching the area carefully as he went. Moments later another sentinel appeared, farther across the valley on a parallel course. Han thought he understood. The valley widened abruptly from here, and a few sentries, farther along, might not be able to stop the escapees from getting past.

The sentries kept moving warily. When they were well past the escapees'

position, Han-using hand-touches to alert his companions and dictate the order of march-slipped out from behind the boulder. The servo-motors of Bollux's body were smooth and quiet, but sounded unbearably loud to Han.

He could only hope the sound didn't carry over the wind and other noises in the night. They had wound their way among the rocks for another half kilometer and gotten out of sight of the snowfield, and Han had just begun to let himself believe they were clear, when a yellow heatbeam flashed out of the night. It scored on a rock two meters to Bollux's right, throwing up sparks and globs of molten mineral. Chill, s.h.i.+vers, frozen feet, and caution were forgotten. Everybody scattered for cover.

Hasti brought her disrupter pistol up for a return shot but Han whispered, "Don't! He'll pick up your position from the flash. Anybody see where the shot came from?" n.o.body had. "Then, sit still. When he fires again, we'll nail him. Aim for the point of origin."

"Solo, .we haven't got time to sit here! " Hasti rasped fiercely.

"Then start tunneling," he suggested. But instead she groped, found a stone that fit her palm, and heaved it. It clattered among the loose rocks. Another, heatbeam flashed yellow from the shadows at the side of the valley. Han fired instantly and kept on firing. The others, slower than he, joined a moment later with a torrent of blaster, power pistol, disruptor, and bowcaster shots.

"Hold it, hold it," Han ordered. "I think we got him." "Do we move on?" asked Badure.

Han didn't think the light and reports of the shots would have been detectable back on the slopes. "Not yet. We have to be sure we won't get backshot. Besides, I saw a gleam of metal where the heatbeams came from.

Maybe there's a vehicle there, or some supplies. " He s.h.i.+vered from the mountain air. "Anything'd be a help."

"Then someone must investigate," Skynx declared and was away before anybody could stop him, flowing between the rocks with his antennae held low, nearly impossible to see. I'll have to warn him about those heroics, Han thought, he's come a long way. To break the tense silence, he whispered to Badure, "See what happens? First you go off medalchasing to get our weapons back and now Skynx figures he's the valiant warrior." The old man chuckled softly. "The guns came in handy, didn't they? Besides, it gave Chewbacca a chance to pay back his Life-Debt." Han blinked. '

"That's right. Hey, what do you mean Chewbacca? We both came back for you!" Badure only laughed. Just then Skynx called over excitedly, "Captain! Over here! " They went, slipping and stumbling with haste but still keeping low. They came to an overhang of rock, having to duck to pa.s.s under it. From the black regions within issued Skynx's voice. "I found a glow-rod, Captain Solo. I'll turn up the rheostat a bit." A faint glimmer showed them the Ruurian's face. He had found a low, wide cave that reached in farther than they could see. The body of the single sentry was sprawled in death, hit by several of their blasts. But what excited Skynx was what had been under guard there.

"Look, a cargo lifter! " Han took the glow-rod. "Hoverraft of some kind. " He climbed into the open c.o.c.kpit of the flatbed aircraft. "Looks like it was on down time; there're a lot of burned-out components on the floorboards, and the control-panel covers are still off." He brightened the glow-rod. There were two more hoverrafts nearby, access panels open, gutted and cannibalized for the parts that had gone to repair the first.

Han slid the notched hover bar down; the craft rose a bit. He flicked controls; the board was clear. "Hop in; my meter's running." They rushed to comply, ducking to keep from b.u.mping heads on the cave ceiling. With one foot on a mounting step, Badure paused. "What was that?" They all heard it-the sounds of running, voices, and the clatter of weapons. "Hot pursuit," answered Han. "No time to punch tickets, folks stay gripped!"

He rammed up the impeller control, red-zoning the engine. The hover-raft shot out of the cave, nearly losing Bollux, who had been in the process of boarding. Badure and Chewbacca dragged him aboard. The Survivors were closer than Han had thought; they had a.s.sumed positions around the cave and were closing in on it. The hover-raft zoomed from the cave near ground level, engines complaining. One or two Survivors had the presence of mind to shoot as the raft flashed by, but most either stood frozen or sought a lower elevation to keep from being run down. The few shots went wild, and Hasti put out a few rounds at random to keep the Survivors'

heads down. The raft tore through a wide arc and headed down the valley.

Where to, citizens?" Han grinned. "Just turn on the heaters!"

yelled Hasti. The valley widened quickly, then gave way down to an open plain carpeted with bobbing, spindly amber gra.s.s. The hovercraft was equipped with rudimentary navigational gear. Han set a course for J'uoch's mining camp. Not wanting to use the raft's running lights, he cut his speed back and peered through the winds.h.i.+eld, thankful it was a bright night. The wind of their pa.s.sage s.n.a.t.c.hed the warmth out of the heater grids. Hasti discovered a folded tarp in one corner of the cargo bed and pulled at it, but stopped and called to the others. "Look at what they had onboard!" Han couldn't turn from his steering, but Chewbacca, sitting next to him, pulled a handful of the tarp over the back of the driver's seat. Carefully fastened to the tarp were strands of plastic; meticulously fas.h.i.+oned to look like the amber gra.s.s of the plains. A camouflage cover.

"This crate comes equipped with an aerial-sensor, too," Han noted.

"With a little warning and time to cover up, this thing would be just about impossible to spot without firstrate equipment. " And the cave had been big enough to hold more rafts like this one. But that left the question of how a group of primitives like the Survivors, on a back-eddy planet like Dellalt, had set up an operation like this. Han slowed just enough for Chewbacca to wrestle the collapsible canopy into place. They crowded onto the short couches of the cramped pilot-pa.s.senger compartment, lit by the glow of the dashboard instruments and Bollux's photoreceptors. Outside, the moons and stars lit a sea of waving gra.s.sland as it blurred under the raft's darkened bow. Eventually the heaters made some headway, and Han opened his flight jacket. Badure sighed "If that was the Queen's log-recorder disk back there, we can write it off. The antenna mast destroyed it completely." Han posed the question "But how did the Survivors get it in the first place? I thought it was back in the vaults. " "They were talking like it's been theirs all along," Hasti put in, s.h.i.+fting in a futile attempt to find more room between Bollux and Badure in the back seat. Skynx, in his best cla.s.sroom voice, chimed in. "The facts, as we know them, are as follows. Lanni somehow obtained the log-recorder disk and deposited it in a lockbox in the vaults. She evinced an interest in the mountains. Fuoch discovered her secret, or some part of it, and killed Lanni in trying to obtain the disk. And, here were the Survivors with either the same disk or one identical to it.

"Now, Lanni was a pilot, flying freight and operational missions, isn't that right? Suppose she happened to be airborne when the Survivors were holding one of their outdoor ceremonies, and either traced their signal or saw the light?" Han nodded. "She could've landed somewhere, scouted, and bagged the log-recorder! " He trimmed the craft and corrected its course a bit. Hasti agreed. "She could have. Dad taught her to fly, and a lot about wilderness survival and reconnaissance." Badure picked up the thread. "So she put the disk in the lockbox and stopped off across the lake to see if she could detect a bounce or signal leakage or find out anything about the Survivors' base, or if she'd stirred them up.

I bet the treasure's back there under the mountain." They rode in silence for a time. Then Han spoke "That would only leave two questions how to get the Falcon back . . . and how to spend all that money." Han's best efforts failed to nurse much speed from the antiquated raft. He kept the airwatch sensor on, depressed as low to the horizon astern as possible, but he detected no pursuit. He was still unsatisfied, having come up with no conclusions as to what the Survivors had been doing with those cargo craft, what the hatch face off the Quee n of Ranroon actually meant, or how it was all connected with the treasure. Dellalt's sun set off a purple dawn; gra.s.sland disappeared under the hover-raft's bow. They had nearly crossed the basin of gra.s.sland formed by a curve in the mountain range and were bearing toward the mining camp when Bollux leaned over the driver's seat and said, "Captain, I've been making communication monitoring sweeps as you ordered, listening for activity on the Survivors' frequency." Han immediately became anxious. "Are they on the air?" "No," answered the 'droid. "After all, their antenna mast was destroyed. But I also checked other frequencies mentioned in Skynx's tapes, and I've found something peculiar. There are transmissions on a very unusual setting coming from the direction of the campsite. They're odd because, although I can't pick them up clearly, they appear to be cybercommand signals." Han's brow furrowed. Automata-command signals?

"Mining equipment?" he asked the 'droid.

"No," answered Bollux. "These aren't the usual heavyequipment patterns or industrial signals." Badure turned the raft's commo rig to the setting Bollux had been monitoring but was unable to pick up anything clearly. Taking a bearing from the 'droid, Han changed course minutely and made a slow approach toward the mountains. Setting the airwatch sensor to full-scan, he readied Chew bacca and the others to pull the camouflage tarp over the raft at a moment's notice. He carne in slowly, taking his direction from the 'droid. They had already walked into one trap by investigating signals and, though it was important that they find out what these new ones meant, Han had no intention of being ambushed a second time. He lowered the raft's lift factor until it was bending the gra.s.s down, barely clearing the ground. "Signals strengthening, Captain,"

advised Bollux. They were approaching a rise in the plains, a ripple in the landscape preliminary to the sloping of the mountains. Han settled the hover-raft in behind the rise and got out of the craft. Parting the gra.s.s delicately, he and Chewbacca bellycrawled to the crest to have a look. Less than a kilometer away the foothills began. Han squinted through his blaster's scope. "There's something down there, where that gully comes down to the plain." The Wookiee agreed. They withdrew with care and told the others what they had seen. Sunrise was near.

"Skynx and Hasti, take lookout on the rise," Han directed. "Bollux and Badure, guard the raft. Chewie and I will move in; you all know the signal system. If you have to get out, at least you've got a boat now. "

None of them made any objections, though Hasti looked as if she wanted to. The Millennium Falcon's captain and first mate split off to the right and left of the rise, moving stealthily through the tall, amber gra.s.s, each of them keeping careful count in his mind. They had worked together so often that they automatically orchestrated their moves, without benefit of chrono or signal. Han swept left, approaching the anomaly in the terrain that had attracted his attention. As he had thought, the lumps at the base of the foothills were a cl.u.s.ter of camouflage covers, a little too sudden and consolidated to be a part of the landscape. He saw no sentries or patrols, no surveillance of any kind, and so changed course to his right. He heard something in the gra.s.s that might have been a small insect's buzz; the. sound scarcely traveled a few meters. Han a.s.sumed his partner's signal had been sounding for a while. He homed to it, parted a tuft of gra.s.s, and met his copilot with a grin. They talked in quick hand-motions; Chewbacca's recon had yielded the same results as Han's-with one addition; there was a guard, evidently a Survivor, walking a slow post. They made their plan and moved forward again. Han's first inclination was to use the stun-gun carried by Badure, but there was too much chance that someone would hear the discharge or see the blue light of the shot. The sentry was dressed in common Dellaltian mode rather than in Survivor garb. He- strolled along his circuit carelessly, armed with a Kell Mark II Heavy a.s.sault Rifle. He carried the Kell at a sloppy shoulder arms. Like sentries in most of the places Han had ever seen, the man was convinced that nothing would happen and that he was walking guard for no good reason. He sauntered past, thinking thoughts of no great consequence-which was just as well. Those idle thoughts were dispelled a moment later when a hulking shape rose out of the gra.s.s behind him and expertly tapped him behind the ear with a bowcaster b.u.t.t. The guard fell face-first into the gra.s.s. Han retrieved the heavy-a.s.sault rifle; and the two partners made a hasty scout of the area. There were no more guards, but the thing that had attracted Han's attention through the blaster scope proved most interesting. All manner of groundefffect surface vehicles, all of them cargo models, were gathered there under camouflage covers, secured. A quick series of random checks revealed no cargo aboard any of them.

"What'd they need twenty flatbeds for?" Han wondered aloud as he waved his companions forward. "Plus two or three back at the mountain base?" The others came up behind them. Badure explained that they had secured the stolen hover-raft with its own camouflage cover, behind the rise. They helped Han and Chewbacca in a precautionary smas.h.i.+ng of the fleet's communication equipment. None of them could come up with a plausible reason for the strange gathering of craft either.