Part 23 (1/2)
The younger Bothan's eyes narrowed. ”If we had been on time, we would have been destroyed, just like the con-voy.”
”Quite so, quite so, and it is a good thing you were delayed. Still, you realize that tests on the samples of bacta ice that were brought back to Coruscant do show the bacta to be tainted and spoiled--in accord with Warlord Zsinj's allegations.”
”Forgive me, sir, but those samples were blown up, flash-boiled, and peppered with debris. That they show up contaminated and useless is really no surprise.”
”Under normal circ.u.mstances I would agree with you.”
”What do you find unusual about these circ.u.mstances?” Fey'lya gave her an indulgent smile. ”Clearly the con-voy's timetable was leaked to Warlord Zsinj. Since the Xuc-phra faction on Thyferra has seen fit to send bacta to the New Republic, it is safe to a.s.sume it was the rival Zaltin faction that tipped Zsinj about the s.h.i.+pment. Even so, we cannot rule out the possibility that members of this govern-ment sabotaged the effort to bring bacta to Coruscant.”
”You can't be serious. That would make Mon Mothma or others out to be monsters who had sunk to Ysanne Isard's level or below.”
”Of course I don't believe that is the case, but the prob-lem is that others do think it possible. I am afraid that you could become implicated in all this because of your member-s.h.i.+p in Rogue Squadron.” He pressed his hands flat on his desk and leaned forward. ”l want to insulate you from any possible disaster coming down the line.”
”Disaster?”
”Rogue Squadron will be sent out with the task force being used to punish Warlord Zsinj. It could very well be that this Alderaan incident means certain superior officers in the military see Rogue Squadron as a problem. Committing you in an action that destroys the squadron would eliminate that problem. I'm not saying this is what will happen, of course, but it could and I would like to put some insurance in place that prevents this from coming to pa.s.s.” Asyr's head came up. ”What kind of insurance?” Fey'lya gestured toward her with opened hands. ”I would like you to prepare a report that indicates the delay in Rogue Squadron's arrival was a product of human error.”
”Such a report could be used to strengthen the conspir-acy theory.”
”If I were to use it in such a capacity, yes, it could, but I would never do that.”
”Never?” Asyr raised an eyebrow. ”You know the Bothan saying--'Never means the right opportunity has not yet arisen.'”
”Then I should amend my statement--I would never use it except if I deemed it necessary to curb human excesses. You know--and the Krytos virus is but one example--man-kind's capacity for cruelty to its own is infinite. The human members of the Alliance have not turned on us or on Rogue Squadron, but that's not to say they will never do that.” Fey'lya tapped his desktop with a talon. ”You are a Bothan. You were born with obligations and responsibilities. Writing this report is just one of them.”
Asyr nodded. ”I understand, sir.”
”Good. I'll want that report within 72 hours. Don't fail me.”
”No, sir.” Asyr rose from her chair and bowed her head to him. ”I understand the price of failure, sir, and I have no intention of incurring that debt.”
31.
It's too easy. Though everything was going absolutely ac-cording to his plan, Corran Horn felt some unmitigated di-saster was lurking ahead of him. The Imps who hung out near the mouth of the cavern hadn't bothered to make com-ments as he and Urlor headed off down the dark corridor toward the latrines. They walked close together, letting the infrared images of their bodies merge into one, creating a single image for the IR monitors at either end of the corridor.
Once inside the latrine area, Corran had doffed his tunic and soaked it in the single sink, then pulled the clammy gar-ment back on. He likewise soaked his head, then smiled up at Urlor through the water running down his face. ”I'm set.”
Urlor raised a bushy eyebrow.
Corran nodded. Yes, I have to go. I have no choice. Corran slapped him on the arm, then headed to the entrance. Urlor followed, patted him on the back, then walked back toward the billet cavern, weaving slightly from side to side to widen his IR image. Thanks, my friend.
Corran, still sodden, turned to the left and walked on toward the mine.
He kept his pace slow and turned sideways to present a narrow profile to the IR monitor near the gate. He wasn't certain that this would really minimize his heat image, but it was worth a try. His wet hair and tunic would be more effective in that department. Urlor's efforts to pre-sent a big target farther up the corridor might also help elimi-nate him from notice.
Thirty paces beyond the latrines he reached the double-gate. In the darkness he groped along the flimsy metal sur-face for the lock and chain. His fingers gently brushed across the number pad on the lock, but he resisted the temptation to try random combinations. He didn't know if a failure would set off an alarm somewhere or not, but he did know that trying to figure out the right combination would take enough time to make him drier than a Tusken Raider. Unless I got lucky, and no one is that lucky.
From the lock to the opposite door Corran counted six-teen links and winced. Seventeen links had provided him a tight squeeze two nights previously. Corran gripped the gate-halves, pulled them as far apart as possible, then tucked his right shoulder through the opening. He exhaled as much as he could, worked a leg through, then pushed and pulled himself the rest of the way to the other side.
He squatted on the other side of the gate and rubbed at his chest. Just as well none of the others wanted to try to get out. Aside from some of the older prisoners and a few of the sick ones, no one could have fit through there. Staying low, he worked his way forward. When he reached the entrance to the mine corridor, he turned into it and allowed himself a quiet sigh.
I can't believe how stupid they've been. Corran realized his criticism of the guards was not fair, primarily because their lack of security seemed deficient only in light of his theory about the orientation of the prison itself. No prisoner in his right mind would attempt to escape and head deeper into the bowels of the planet. The laxity in securing the path to the mines served as a strong clue that the mines did not offer a way out- -if they did, they would be more secure.
Security is predicated on two things: the odd orientation of the prison and the fact that even if someone gets out of the prison, getting off whatever world we're on is by no means a.s.sured. Corran s.h.i.+vered. If we're in the depths of Hoth, or in the desert of Tatooine or on the back side of Kessel, this escape attempt will end quickly enough.
Despite those inauspicious thoughts, which sparked new feelings of unease in him, Corran pushed on. He reached the hatchway leading into the caverns and found it open. Well, perhaps I am lucky, just a bit. He would have felt luckier if he had a light of his own, but the prisoners had no access to anything more technologically sophisticated than a shovel. To navigate through the darkness all he had to guide him was the faint glow from the amber ready-lights at the base of the floodlights they used when working in the mine. Corran had mentally mapped them the way an astronomer mapped con-stellations, and he knew exactly where to head to get to the gravel loader. Having oriented himself toward his goal, he stood straight and started to make his way down the slope.
Pain exploded across the middle of his back, numbing his legs. He pitched forward and tried to tuck into a ball, but his legs ignored him. He knew from the pain in his back and knees, as they alternately struck the stone slope in his tum-ble, that his spine hadn't been severed. While this was good news, it paled within the larger context of his having been attacked in the mines.
He hit bottom and skidded to a halt on his back. He could feel the burning tingle of sensation returning to his legs, but they felt like lead and had no strength in them. The poor footing provided by the gravel combined with the weakness in his legs to keep him down, which he saw as a distinct problem as a ma.s.sive, bulky shadow eclipsed several of the amber lights. The orange glow, though very weak, clearly illuminated the edge of the upraised shovel the man held.
”Nothing personal, Horn, but you're my way out of here.”
Derricote? ”How did you get past the gate? You couldn't have squeezed through.”
The shovel remained at the top of the arc for an over-head blow. ”I have money hidden away, in numbered ac-counts. I bribed a guard for the combination to the gate lock, same as I bribe them for ingredients for my nectar.”
Appeal to his vanity. Buy yourself time to be able to move. ”Very clever, General.”
”And too clever to let you recover. Good-bye . . .” The shovel began to fall. Corran rolled to the left and felt the shovel bounce off his right shoulder. He expected another blow, but instead heard Derricote gurgle and the shovel clatter to the ground. Gravel hissed as the Imp's bulk twisted around into Corran's line of sight. He heard someone grunt, then the sound of a falling body, but Derricote's sil-houette remained upright.
Reaching back with his right hand, Corran grabbed the shovel's shaft, twisted his grip, and whipped the metal end around. He caught the Imp in the back of his legs, upending him. Gravel sprayed Corran as Derricote hit the ground. Rolling up onto his knees, Corran smashed the shovel down on the man's stomach, and when Derricote's hands dropped to cover his belly, Corran caught him with a blow to the head.
Derricote went limp.
”Is he dead?”
Corran looked over to where the voice had come from. ”Jan?”
~'Yes.”
”How?”
The older man came close enough that Corran could hear the wet rustle of his tunic. ”I noticed Derricote wasn't around--he's too big not to see.
Urlor told me you were off. I a.s.sumed he was informing on you, so I came to stop you. When I saw him standing over you, I had to do something.”
Corran reached out to check Derricote for a carotid pulse and found the braided cord Jan used to tie his hair back wrapped around the man's neck.
He handed it back to .Jan, then checked Derricote's pulse. ”Weak and thready. ! must have broken his skull.”
”Leave him. They'll think he fell trying to escape. We can get back before they notice.”
Corran shook his head. ”Can't do it. If they find him here, they'll know we know Lusankya's secret. We'll never get out.” He grabbed the upper part of Jan's right arm.