Heir to the Jedi (22 page)

“Drusil? Mind if I speak with you?”

Her head dropped and turned, and those black eye sockets regarded me with an unreadable expression.

“If it’s convenient,” I amended. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You are no bother. After our earlier conversation regarding the Force, I have been entertaining myself with cascading probability ladders. I can always return to them later.”

“Great,” I said, having no idea what she meant. I edged into the room and passed Artoo, patting him on the dome and telling him that I appreciated his work before taking a seat on the lower bunk opposite Drusil. I explained that we needed a new engine and fuel at minimum to leave the planet once we landed on it, and whoever sold them to us would need money or valuable information in exchange for that. Drusil volunteered to share what little she knew of Imperial operations in the sectors surrounding Hutt Space, and I said we’d certainly make the offer, but the Kupohans probably knew much of that already and wouldn’t place much value on it.

“I could, perhaps, avail myself of some information in this system,” the Givin mused, gesturing at her custom-built hardware. “If our host wishes to raid a particular data cache and rifle through its contents in exchange for an engine, I am confident that I can slice our way to an accommodation.”

“You’d be willing to do that?”

“Of course.” For once, her voice rang clearly, free of the thickness it usually contained. “I will do whatever needs to be done.”

I believed her and felt unnerved, for it had occurred to me that she might have made the same promise to someone else—someone in the Empire. Her long tenure under the “protection” of the Imperial Security Bureau could very well mean she was working for them even now. Leia and Admiral Ackbar hadn’t shared with me any details on Drusil’s background. How did they know she was legitimately an enemy of the New Order? The ISB could be using her to infiltrate the Alliance.

Our escape from Daalang had me suspicious, as well. How hard had the Empire really been trying? They had certainly seemed intent on killing us at the time, but strategically that cruiser shouldn’t have been there by itself. The Empire knew of the Interdictors’ vulnerabilities or else they wouldn’t habitually surround them with escorts. So why send one in alone this time to pull everything out of hyperspace in the hope of catching us? They might have caught something a whole lot meaner than a single fugitive ship. It reeked of desperation—or a sacrifice.

But a sacrifice to what end? Would the Emperor sacrifice an entire cruiser and all its crew to bolster the credibility of one operative? I didn’t know if he was heartless enough to throw away lives like that. Vader probably was, but we hadn’t had a whiff of his involvement yet.

I shook my head to clear it. Maybe it was all an elaborate plot and someone had planned their holo-chess moves far ahead of time, but if so, I couldn’t see the shape of their attack yet. It was far more likely that the Empire never thought a single ship would have the ordnance or guts to successfully attack an Interdictor solo, and that was it. Then again, Drusil could be playing both sides for some other agenda of her own—she was certainly intelligent enough to do so.

Regardless of the true situation, our best bet was to get the
Jewel
refitted and out of the system as fast as possible. And a tiny twinge of paranoia probably wouldn’t go amiss here; the Kupohans weren’t quite as renowned for spying as the Bothans were, but for my money they were a close second—or in a way, even better precisely because they
weren’t
renowned for something that should be conducted secretly. Their extraordinary hearing made them excellent eavesdroppers, able to catch snippets of whispered conversation across a busy cantina by using their sonic filters to isolate the voices they wanted. Rumor had it that Kupohans who trained in law enforcement could isolate your heartbeat and detect stressors in your voice that betrayed when you were lying. And because it was almost impossible to sneak up on them, they made a game of it, becoming naturally stealthy as they grew up; they would make excellent assassins. Maybe they
were
—so good no one ever caught them at it—but in any case, we would have to assume that anything we said on the planet could be overheard. I reminded Drusil of that because we could easily reveal in an unguarded moment who we were and what we were doing—and that would be valuable information to sell.

I told Artoo to stick close to me while we were on the surface. “Don’t ever be alone. Someone could try to mess with you to get at your memory.” The droid rocked back and forth on his support arms and chirped and whistled in outrage at the very idea.

“Thanks for your time, Drusil. I’ll let you get back to your probable ladders or, uh. Yeah.”

The Givin nodded once in reply and tilted her chin at the ceiling before I left the quarters, but her voice called me back.

“Yes?”

“One of the probabilities may interest you. It is almost certain that this ship’s system has been remotely sliced since we arrived in this sector.”

“What? How?” Artoo added several indignant beeps to that. “Don’t you think my droid would have noticed?”

“I imagine he will find something if he looks now.” Artoo’s socket jack whirred in the computer and his dome light began to wink as he worked. Drusil continued, “It will not be an invasive burst of code. It will behave more like a mynock, attaching itself inconspicuously and going along for the ride. But it will see what you see, know where you go and who you talk to. Were we tourists this would be of little consequence and the information unworthy of trade. However, we are not tourists, are we?”

“No, we’re definitely not.”

Artoo spat out a long warbling stream of annoyed chirps and the top of his dome rotated in extreme agitation. I’d have to go back to the cockpit to get a translation of the noise; Nakari was already reading it and her loud reaction sounded unhappy.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

Nakari scowled as I ducked my head into the cockpit. “Luke, who could be slicing into the
Jewel
?”

“Hold on, let me see what Artoo said.” The message read,
MALICIOUS CODE FOUND AND NEUTRALIZED. SURVEILLANCE PROGRAM, ORIGIN UNKNOWN. INSERTED RECENTLY.

“It would have been almost as soon as we entered the system and accessed their net,” she said. “When I did that search for Azzur Nessin. I can’t believe we’d get tagged so fast or so easily.”

“Well, we already know that some of them do contract work for the spynet. This is probably their way of saying hello.”

“It’s rude.”

“To them it’s business as usual. They probably figure if we can’t protect ourselves, then we deserve to be spied on.”

“I obviously need to upgrade my firewalls. Lots more fire, I think,” she said. “Could it have been Nessin himself who did it? Or one of his employees?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. “It could have been almost anyone in the system, though.” I jerked my head to indicate the living quarters. “I need to get back. Keep an eye on the scanners, and yell if anything develops.”

“Yeah, all right.”

I was trying not to fall into the trap of conspiracy theories. Once you start looking for them you see them everywhere, but they’re usually just mirages, nothing more. And yet this was quite a coincidence. I returned to the quarters, thrust my hands in my pockets, and looked up at the Givin.

“You know, Drusil, I think we should talk.”

“You say that as if we had not been talking in the very recent past, or as if we are not in fact already talking.”

“Sorry, that was sort of a human idiom. I said that to suggest we should talk about matters underneath the surface.”

“The surface of what? Oh!” She nodded to herself. “I understand. We have arrived at the time when you search for the politest possible way to accuse me of being an Imperial spy.”

“How do you—Do you have equations that predict human behavior?”

“I would be the Emperor if I did. But there is no need. Human faces are expressive, and yours is not a difficult one to interpret. And I can hardly fault you for being suspicious. You do not know me well—or any Givin, I would wager—and I was most recently in the employ of the Empire for an extended period, however unwilling. A certain amount of suspicion is warranted. I take no offense.”

“Well, I suppose that’s good. I’m glad you’re not offended and that you’re willing to discuss it so frankly. But I’m not reassured. The invasive code you predicted would be there—and
was
there—could have been placed in the ship’s system by you far more easily than by someone else in the system who barely had time to realize we were here.”

“You are assuming that someone is manually inserting the code rather than the code existing on the net and executing on an automatic trigger, but as you are speaking of mere possibilities rather than likelihoods, you are correct, Luke Skywalker. I also could have taken over the entire ship whenever I wished,
for your security is laughably easy to circumvent. Do you see the flaw in your reasoning? If I had wanted to ensure that we were captured by the Empire, why did I not move more slowly in the sewers on Denon? Or shut down the ship in the Nanth’ri system so that we would be captured by pirates, or disable us in Daalang, and then simply wait for the Empire to pick us up?”

“I never said you wished us to be captured by the Empire.”

“Ah. So you believe I have some other goal in mind. What might that be?”

“The theory I favor at the moment is that you want to learn the location of the rebel fleet—that’s the only intelligence goal that would justify an elaborate plot like this. By tracking our communications you hope to find out something useful. You’re waiting for us to contact Alliance personnel.”

Drusil Bephorin nodded. “I see. Your reasoning is sound; the Empire would indeed do almost anything to discover where the rebels are hiding. And if I already know the location of the rebel fleet, would that allay your suspicions about my loyalties?”

My guts turned cold. “Are you posing a hypothetical question about my reaction, or are you saying you actually know the location?”

“I do not know its precise location, but I can make an educated guess based on my insider’s knowledge of current Imperial fleet deployments, then subtracting the majority of occupied worlds, and continuing to eliminate other such variables until we arrive at a manageable number. The rebel fleet is in the Outer Rim.”

A relieved chuckle escaped my throat. She didn’t know anything dangerous. “Of course it is. Everyone knows that. All those unoccupied systems to hide in makes it obvious.”

“But a large number of unoccupied systems can be eliminated through modal reasoning matrices, logistics loop theory, and the high probability that the Alliance would use only known hyperspace routes.”

“Uh, you lost me in the middle there.”

“Then I shan’t dwell on the methodology. But had I wished the rebel fleet discovered, I would have already told the Empire to search the Zaddja, Kowak, or Pantora systems. My analysis points to one of them.”

The cold feeling returned. If she had told the Empire that, they would have indeed found the Alliance around Orto Plutonia in the Pantora system. I didn’t bother to dispute her analysis. I have no talent for lying; my best option was to keep silent and confirm nothing.

“Your silence is telling, Luke Skywalker.”

“Are all Givin capable of analyzing fleet movements the way you are?” I asked. Because if so, the Empire could ask any of them for help. Or coerce them, which was more likely.

“Most are capable of the basic functions, but I hope you will not think it immodest if I proclaim myself to be unusually accomplished in probability theory. It has useful applications in cryptography. And I cannot imagine that anyone else would be privy to the secrets that I was during my ersatz employment with the ISB. I have knowledge of where the Empire has searched and can guess where they will search next with a high degree of probability, since they lack imagination and distrust the power of randomization.”

“That would be useful information.”

“I will be delighted to share it with you when I am successfully reunited with my family.”

“You can predict Imperial fleet movements, but you’re keeping it to yourself? Sharing it now could save lives!”

“And if I have nothing to trade, I could lose mine.”

I understood her position, but it was frustrating to run up against self-interest when a team effort would serve everyone better. Still, I could press her regarding the math she had willingly taken on earlier. “Did you finish your probability calculation regarding Imperial pursuit before we get to Kupoh?”

“I did. It’s possible they will appear but unlikely. We will make it to the surface. Getting off it again without Imperial efforts to find us is much less likely.”

I nodded, privately thinking that she might spur those Imperial efforts herself. We were headed to the residence of a Kupohan spy who, if he did not work with the Alliance, was at least referred to us by one that did. Pulling on the thread of Azzur Nessin might unravel quite a bit for the Empire. I would have to make sure Nakari hadn’t hooked her datapad into the ship’s computer at all, because Drusil—or I supposed anyone else in the system if we were now exposed—would then be able to slice it and access the entire list of contacts given to us by Sakhet.

As if she could read me again, Drusil said, “If I may make a general observation: The problem with conspiracy theories is that they have their own gravity: They are black holes from which one rarely escapes. Caution is advisable at all times, of course, but recognize that sometimes the beings you meet truly are good.”

“Noted,” I said, and I made an effort to smile. “And I agree. Think of me as cautious.”

“I do, and approve.”

Nodding once and excusing myself after asking Artoo to continually monitor all systems for data invasions, I returned to the cockpit and caught Nakari up, advising her to keep her datapad isolated and in her possession until we no longer needed that list of contacts.

Drusil’s calculations proved accurate again, as we were able to bite into atmosphere and land on Kupoh without active pursuit by anything except the wind.