The Black Fleet Crisis_ Before The Storm Part 24

By the time Hammax finished his speculations, Artoo appeared at the portal. He chirped at Lando, then entered when Lando waved him in.

The lack of handholds in the chamber was not the problem for the droid that it was for the general. Thanks to the array of small gas thrusters built into all astromech droids, Artoo's motions were far more controlled than Lando's-who found he kept drifting into one bulkhead or another, slowly twisting from side to side and turning end over end.

"You getting a better image now? " Lando called.

"Much clearer, " said Lobot. "Are you ready for the rest of us? "

"There's nothing else to see, " said Lando, switching his suit's floodlamps back on. "The bulkheads are completely bare. "

"Does it appear to be the same material as the outer hull? " asked Hammax. "If so, there could be any kind or number of sensors or weapons concealed underneath it. They could use that material the way we use one-way mirrors. For all we know, they could be as close to you as the nearest bulkhead, watching and listening. "

"Thank you for that thought, " said Lando. "But if this is a Qella s.h.i.+p, it's a dead s.h.i.+p. It's been in s.p.a.ce too long. And, Colonel, this is starting to look like a dead end. We may have to make our own entrance. "

"Lando, remember what we talked about yesterday, " said Lobot. "Any obvious path, any unlocked pa.s.sageway, may be a trap. If there was a big red switch in the middle of one of those walls, I wouldn't want you to touch it. Access must require more than observation-it requires knowledge. The perfect lock is invisible to you and self-evident to the Qella. "

"Maybe there's something about the mottling on these walls, " said Lando, craning his head. "It's the only thing in here I can see that could carry information. Lobot, Threepio, why don't you come on over and see what you can make of it. Bring the equipment sled with you, too. Artoo's making out like a fish in water, but the rest of us can use something to hang on to. "

Lando sighed and touched a suit control to blow a jet of cool air across his face. "I haven't a clue, " he said finally. "Colonel?

Anything there? "

It was Bijo Hammax who replied, "No. We're stumped here, Lando. "

"Being stumped was my best strategy, " Lando said forlornly. "I was hoping that if we showed ourselves to be slow learners again, they'd give us another hint. "

Bijo laughed.

"Maybe if we touch the right pattern of spots, " Lobot suggested.

"I touched about thirty spots already before you got here, with my head, my elbows, my bottom, my knees-"

"I said the right pattern, not a random pattern. "

"So tell me what the right pattern is, " Lando said sharply. "Light or dark? Fast or slow? Left to right or top to bottom? "

"I don't know, " Lobot said. "I'm sorry. "

"Aw-it's not your fault. What we need right now is a Qella brain, and we're fresh out of them. I knew I'd forget to pack something. "

"Lando-"

"What? "

"Have you ever seen Donadi stain-painting? "

"What? Lobot, you've picked a strange time to start practicing idle conversation. "

"Answer my question, " Lobot said shortly.

"All right-no, I haven't. What's that got to do with anything? "

"To human perception, stain-painting consists of huge canvases covered with random splotches of color. The Donadi sit and stare at a painting for ten minutes or more at a time. If they stare long enough, and practice what they call 'looking past, ' something happens in their brain that turns the splotches into a three-dimensional image. "

"I've seen it, " said Hammax. "Strangest thing. The Donadi go into this meditation thing and end up in a state of high rapture over something that might as well be a hallucination. "

"But it isn't a hallucination, " said Lobot. "A Donadi painting isn't an image-it's a stimulus to the perception of an image. The image isn't real, but it's contained in the painting all the same. It's a perceptual trick, and it only works for their species. "

"You think maybe if a Qella came in here, he'd see the answer right away? "

"I'm saying that these markings may have been made not just for Qella eyes, but for Qella minds. "

Lando frowned and shook his head. "Even if you're right, that doesn't get us any closer. "

"Artoo is the only one of us capable of seeing the entire chamber at once. I can send him alternate sets of perceptual parameters, which I am retrieving now from the Inst.i.tute for Sentient Studies on Baraboo.

They have the most comprehensive collection of neurocognitive models that exists. Artoo can reprocess the image according to the parameters I provide, and project it for us to see. "

"Sounds a lot like trying to fill out a sabacc on a draw of four cards to me. "

"Luck is chance informed by applied knowledge, " said Lobot. "You said so yourself. "

"I did? "

"You did. Stand by. "

It is said on Gaios that a seed does not know the flower that produced it. What is true of seeds and flowers is true of civilizations and worlds. In the long history of the galaxy, many a family tree has grown too tangled to be clearly remenbered by either ancestor or descendant.

On a thousand thousand worlds and more, life erupted from creation's crucible of energy and time-and vanished into extinction in an eyeblink.

On a hundred thousand worlds and more, life erupted from the crucible and would not be dislodged, brandis.h.i.+ng cleverness and fecundity as its weapons against entropy and change.

On ten thousand worlds and more, life erupted from the crucible and then transcended it, learning to bridge the unbridgeable distances, venturing forth as explorer, and settler, and conqueror to worlds far from that which gave it birth.

And some of those worlds touched with the gift of life in time pa.s.sed it on to their own children, until the gift had been pa.s.sed across the eons to a million worlds, flower begetting seed begetting flower until the galaxy itself sang of it. But in all the history of all that is, no species anywhere has ever known its whole heritage, for memories are shorter than forever, and the only witness to those hard first births is the Force itself.

The people who called themselves the Qella had no children of their own. No colony worlds owed them allegiance. No free worlds owed them honor. The Qella had possessed the tools to leave their homeworld, but they had lacked a sufficient reason.

But the Qella had parents, parents they scarcely remembered, but to whom much of what they were and knew could be traced. The parents of the Qella had called themselves the Qonet, and they had had many offspring, as had their parents, who called themselves the Ahra Naffi.

So although the Qella had no children, they had siblings in some number, and cousins close and distant in numbers beyond counting.

It was with the hope of finding such kin as the Qella might have that Lobot sifted the archives of the Inst.i.tute for Sentient Studies. Lobot knew no more about the family history of the Qella than did the Qella themselves, but he knew the patterns and principles that applied. His hope depended not on luck but on a well-chosen search algorithm, the thoroughness of the archivists, and the fruitfulness and resilience of the Ahra Naffi line.

Or, at least, so Lobot would forever claim. Luck was Lando's game, and Lobot preferred to distance himself from anything so ephemeral and unpredictable.

It was a silent rivalry, and Lobot took unvoiced pleasure from the times when Lando's way failed him and Lobot's own succeeded. He prided himself on playing a more precise and controlled line, where competence counted for more than chance and diligence was rewarded more often than daring.

This time the reward was the mind-prints of the Khotta, of Kho Nai.

The image Artoo was projecting covered only part of one wall, but incorporated the patterns of the entire chamber as they would have been perceived by a Khotta. Compressed, processed, and translated, they needed no explanation. The entire image had but one focal point and one possible meaning.

"There, " said Lando. "In that corner. There's your big red switch. "

"I don't see anything, " Threepio declared. "Artoo, you must be making a mistake. "

"You're not supposed to see it, " said Lando. "Not unless you have the right eyes. But it's there. " Pus.h.i.+ng off from the equipment sled, he floated toward the corner.

"General Calrissian? Hammax here. Suggest you have your R2 unit make the initial contact with its claw arm. "

"Where's the colonel? "

"Colonel Pakkpekatt is monitoring. "

"Tell him I wish he was here, " said Lando. "Okay, Artoo. You have the spot zeroed in? "

Artoo chittered enthusiastically.

"Okay-let's ring the bell. "

Artoo rose from the equipment sled where he had been clinging and jetted across the open s.p.a.ce. The droid's left equipment door snapped open, and the telescoping claw arm extended toward a spot along the curved corner where the two bulkheads merged.

The claw yawned open to its fullest and a moment later touched the bulkhead.

Nothing happened.

"More pressure, Artoo, " said Lando.

The droid's thrusters spat plumes of vapor into the chamber, until its silver body was visibly vibrating.

"That's enough, Artoo, " Lando said. "Let me in there. "

"What are you thinking, General? " asked Hammax.

"That maybe this s.h.i.+p knows it wasn't built by droids, " said Lando, extending his gloved hand to touch the same spot Artoo had tried.

Again there was no response, even when Lando's suit thrusters exerted themselves.

"We must have misread the instructions, " said Threepio. "Artoo, could you possibly have turned everything upside down? "

The little droid's response was indignantly terse.

"I can't get any real pressure on it, " Lando fumed.

"Maybe these Qella were stronger than we are, at least under these conditions. "

"Strength hasn't opened any Qella doors yet, " 'said Lobot.

Lando twisted around to look at Lobot. "No, it hasn't, has it? "

Grasping his right wrist joint, Lando squeezed the release and twisted.

"What are you doing? " Hammax protested.

"A s.p.a.cesuit and a droid probably register about the same, wouldn't you say? " With a sharp yank, Lando tugged the glove off his right hand.

The air in the chamber was bitterly cold, and his hand begun to ache almost at once. Tucking the glove under his left elbow, Lando spun back to face the corner and reached out to touch the bulkhead.

It retreated under his touch, the surface folding back on all sides until there was a hole in the corner almost as large as a bubble helmet and deep enough that Lando was uncertain whether he could reach the farthest recesses.

"He did it! " Threepio exulted.

"There's some sort of handle back here, " Lando said, peering into the opening. "At least, that's what it looks like to me. Artoo, get over here and get a picture for the' folks at home. "

"General, suggest you reglove, " Hammax said while Artoo attended to that duty. "The handle might be keyed to Qellan biology. "

"I guess we'll find out, won't we? " Lando said.

"That's enough, Artoo. Anyone want to retreat back intoLady Luck before I knock on the door? Counting one, two, three-"

"We're ready here, Lando, " said Lobot.

"Okay, then. " Drawing a deep breath, Lando reached with his bare hand for the handle deep inside the hole. His shoulder was pressed against the opening before his fingertips brushed it. He had to slip his shoulder inside the hole and press his helmet against the bulkhead to close his fingers around the handle.

"Got it, " he said. "What do you think, Lobot? Push, pull, twist, lift-" But Lobot never had a chance to answer.

There was a flash of brilliant blue light outside the portal, and when it was gone, so was the tunnel toLady Luck's airlock. In the next instant the atmosphere in the chamber began boiling out into s.p.a.ce, sweeping everything and everyone toward the open portal.

Lando clung desperately to the handle inside the hole, though he lost his grip on the glove and watched it being whisked away beyond his reach. But both Artoo and Lobot were being swept toward the opening, their thrusters unequal to the sudden windstorm.

The equipment sled, with Threepio perched atop it, spun crazily toward the opening as well.

The glove, far lighter and moving faster than any of the party, struck the outer bulkhead, rebounded, and tumbled out into s.p.a.ce. But bare moments before Artoo reached the opening, there suddenly was no opening. As neatly as the smaller hole had opened under Lando's touch, the portal knitted itself closed from edge to center.

Artoo , Threepio, Lobot, and the sled all struck an unbroken chamber wall-and then began sliding aft along it.

"The s.h.i.+p's moving! " Lando cried, feeling the acceleration pressing him more firmly against the aft bulkhead. "Hammax! Colonel! What's going on? "

There was no answer-not even static. "Anyone on theGlorious , respond! "

"Lando! " Lobot called. "All of my links are gone. We're not just moving. This s.h.i.+p just jumped into hypers.p.a.ce. "

It all happened so quickly that no one witness was certain of all the details.

Without warning, one of the Qella's beam weapons slicedLady Luck free from the vagabond. Another pierced the hull of the interdiction picketKauriand left it in flames.

As the interdiction field collapsed, the vagabond swung about with surprising swiftness and accelerated away from its previous course.

The captain of theMarauder screamed for permission to fire-just as the Qella vessel seemed to suddenly stretch to twice its true length and then vanish into a blinding white pinch of s.p.a.cetime.