Splinter of the Mind's Eye: Star Wars

by Alan Dean Foster

  “Your pardon, sir, but this isn’t a tree I’m pressing against,” the ’droid said, “it’s metal. I thought the matter worthy enough to bring to your notice. There is a possibility …” A loud beep cut him off and he glared down at Artoo. “Talk too much? What do you mean I talk too much, you factory second!”

  “Metal … it is metal!” The Princess was standing alongside the robots, waiting for Luke to make his way through the brush.

  “Artoo, see if you can clear some of this undergrowth away.” The little ’droid activated a small cutting flame, used it to burn a path through the jungle. “It’s a wall … it’s got to be,” Luke muttered as they walked parallel to the forest-scarred metal surface.

  Sure enough, the metal finally ended, and they emerged from the trees onto a modestly cleared roadway. It led into a street paved with packed clay-earth. Buildings lined both sides of the glorified alley, marching resolutely into the swirling fogs. Warm yellow glows shone from lights hidden behind tightly sealed windows, illuminating and outlining raised metal sidewalks canopied against the mist and rain.

  “Thank the Force,” the Princess murmured.

  “First,” Luke began, “we find a place to get cleaned up. Then …” He took a step forward. A hand caught his shoulder, held him back. He eyed Leia curiously. “What’s the matter?”

  “Think a minute, Luke,” she urged him softly. “This is more than just a simple homing beacon site. Much more.” Cautiously, she leaned around the corner of the metal wall, peered down the street. Figures were strolling along the metal walkways now. Others crossed the mist-slicked street. “It’s too substantial for a scientific post, too.”

  Luke turned his own attention to the shrouded streets, took in the figures, the crude shape of the structures. “You’re right. It’s a big installation. Maybe some company from Circarpous …”

  “No.” She gestured sharply. “Look there.”

  Two figures were swaying down the center of the street. They wore armor instead of loose clothing, formed armor of white and black. Armor that was all too familiar.

  Both men carried their helmets casually. One dropped his, bent to retrieve it, kicked it accidentally up the street. His companion chided him. Cursing, the clumsy Imperial picked up his helmet, and the two continued on their meandering path.

  Luke’s eyes had grown as wide as Leia’s. “Imperial stormtroopers, here. Without the Circarpousians’ knowledge, or we’d have heard of it from the underground there.”

  She was nodding excitedly. “If the Circarpousians find out, they’ll quit the Empire faster than a bureaucrat can quote forms!”

  “And who’s going to inform them about the violation?” Luke wanted to know.

  “Why, we …” The Princess stopped, looked somber. “We have two reasons to need help now, Luke.”

  “Shsssh,” he whispered. They drew back further into the darkness. A large cluster of men and women appeared around the near corner. They were chatting softly among themselves, but it wasn’t their inaudible conversation that intrigued Luke and Leia. They wore unusual clothing, coveralls of some black, reflective material which tucked into matching high boots.

  The coveralls rose to end in a cap that fit over the wearer’s head. Some members of the group had their hoods up and fastenformed, others wore them folded flat against their upper back. Various types of equipment Luke didn’t recognize hung and swayed from wide belts.

  Evidently the Princess knew what they were. “Miners,” she informed him, watching as the group moved off down one metal walkway. “They’re wearing mining suits. The Empire’s digging something valuable out of this planet, and the Circarpousians don’t know a thing about it.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Luke inquired.

  The Princess sounded positive. “They’d have their own installation here, and no troops. The Empire obviously doesn’t want anyone to know about this.” Artoo whistled soft agreement.

  Further conversation was made impossible when the air was suddenly filled with a distant, violent howling. It sounded like a parade of demons tramping along just beneath the surface.

  The sound continued for several minutes, then ceased. Realization transformed the Princess’ expression.

  “Energy mining!” she explained breathlessly to Luke. “They’re using some big generators here.” A thoughtful pause, then, “That might account for the atmospheric disturbance which forced us down. I knew I’d read about that effect somewhere. A ship has to be specially insulated to drop down through an area where an energy drill is working. By-products, including excess charges, are shunted away skyward.

  “But the fallout materials—if this world supports a native race, it’s illegal, that kind of mining.

  “Since when,” observed Luke bitterly, “did legalities ever matter to the Empire?”

  “You’re right, of course.”

  “We can’t stand here forever,” he went on. “First thing we have to do is obtain some substantial food. Those concentrates can keep you alive for only so long without some protein to work with. And,” he added, glancing at her muddy exterior, “we’ve got to get cleaned up. We can’t attract any attention. Since Yavin and the Death Star we’re both well known to Imperial enforcement officials, we’d be taken on sight.”

  He studied her pilot’s suit, then his own. “We can’t go strolling around town in these. I think we’d better work on stealing a change of clothing.”

  “Steal?” the Princess objected, drawing herself up. “From a possibly honest shopkeeper? If you think for a minute that a former Princess of the royal house of Alderaan, a Senator, is going to resort to—”

  “I’ll steal them,” Luke said curtly. He leaned around the metal corner. The mist-shrouded street was momentarily deserted and he beckoned for her to follow.

  They hugged the walls of the buildings, trying to pass quickly before any lit windows or open doors, slipping furtively from shadow to shadow. Luke hastily examined each storefront in passing. Finally he halted, indicated the sign above a doorway.

  “Miner’s supplies,” he whispered. “This is the one we want.” While the Princess watched the walkways, he tried to peer through one dark window. “Maybe it’s a holiday,” he guessed hopefully.

  “More likely the only establishments open this time of night sell nothing but intoxicants,” the Princess pointed out prosaically. “What now?” She looked uncomfortable.

  By way of reply Luke led her around back. The rear entrance he’d hoped for was there. But it was secured, as he’d feared. To complicate matters there was a broad open lane behind the buildings, from which the jungle and bog had been shunted away. If anyone happened to come walking past, they’d have nowhere to hide.

  “Wonderful,” the Princess observed as Luke tried the locked portal. “How do we get in?” She was indicating the seamless metal door which, no doubt, was locked and controlled from the inside. The back of the building was devoid of windows, possibly to foil intentions such as theirs.

  Luke removed the lightsaber from his waist, very slowly adjusted the controls set in the handle.

  “What are you going to do, Luke?”

  “I don’t know how big this town is, but a noisy break-in would attract too much attention. So I’m trying not to be noisy.”

  Watching with interest, the Princess took a couple of steps back, looking nervously up and down the alleyway. Any second she expected to see a squad of angry troopers racing around a corner toward her, alerted by some hidden alarm they had unknowingly triggered.

  Only jungle sounds reached her, however, as Luke activated his saber. Instead of the meter-plus shaft of white energy, the pommel put forth a short, needle-thin spoke. With concentration worthy of a master craftsman, Luke stepped forward and moved the energy beam along the slight space visible between door and frame. A third of the way down the door a distinct click sounded and the door slid obediently aside. Readjusting his saber, Luke flicked it off and replaced it at his waist.

  “Go
ahead,” she told him. “The ’droids and I will keep watch.”

  He nodded, vanished inside.

  Luke’s principal objective was conveniently located close to the back of the store. He spent several minutes scrounging through the racks before he found what he wanted. Taking the well-used clothing, he hurried to the back entrance and tossed the booty to the Princess. Then he stepped just outside the door, reached back in and touched the Close stud. He pulled his arm clear as the door slid shut behind him.

  With luck it might be several weeks before the storekeeper discovered his loss.

  Well pleased with himself, Luke stepped down to the ground and began unsnapping his flight suit. He was partly undressed when he paused and noticed the Princess standing and staring at him.

  “Come on. We have to hurry.”

  She put hands on seal-curve hips, cocked her head to one side and stared meaningfully at him.

  “Oh,” he murmured, half-smiling. He turned away and continued undressing. Feeling that nothing had changed behind him, he sneaked a glance, saw the Princess still eying him uncomfortably. “What’s wrong, Princess?”

  She sounded embarrassed. “Luke, I like you, and we’ve known each other for a while, but I’m not sure I can trust you … now.”

  He grinned. “You know it won’t make any difference if the stormtroopers find us here in our flight suits.” He gestured. “You can change in the bush.”

  Turning away from her, he continued changing his own attire. She looked back at the nearby jungle. Tiny yellow points of light, the eyes of unknown creatures, winked on and off in the bushes. Strange, discomfiting sounds hissed and bleated at her. She sighed, started to slip out of her own flight suit, then paused.

  “Well, what are you two staring at?”

  “Oh … sorry, I …” An insistent whistle. “Yes, you’re right, Artoo.” Both ’droids turned away from the Princess.

  Shortly, Luke was able to turn and study her approvingly. Her simple, worn suit was a bit snug, but otherwise looked quite natural on her.

  “Well?” she asked, obviously not enthralled with her new wardrobe. “What are you staring at?”

  “I think maybe something in a print …” he began. He had to react quickly to duck the boot she threw at him. It clattered off the metal door.

  “Sorry,” he told her, sounding like he meant it as he picked up the boot. Bending over his old suit he began transferring various items from it and from his backpack to the belt pouches of the miner’s uniform.

  One small case he flipped open carefully, went rapidly through its contents before snapping it shut and slipping it into a pocket. “I’ve got enough Imperial currency to last us a while. You?”

  She glanced away from him. “What would a representative of the Alliance be doing with common currency on a diplomatic mission?”

  Luke sighed. “We’ll make do, I suppose. How would you like something to eat besides a concentrate?”

  She faced him, visibly more cheerful. “I could eat half a Chou-shou, Luke. Are you sure we ought to, though?”

  “We have to mingle sometime. As long as we don’t look or act like total strangers, no one should bother us.” They started back toward the main street, after burying their packs and flight suits in a syrupy bog.

  They were halfway there when the increasing light caused Luke to stop.

  “What’s the matter?” the Princess asked, worried.

  “Two things,” Luke insisted, eying her. “First of all, there’s your walk.”

  “And what’s wrong with my walk?”

  “Nothing. That’s the trouble.”

  Her brows drew together in puzzlement. “I don’t follow you, Luke.”

  He explained slowly. “You’re walking like … like a Princess. Not like a working woman. Slump your shoulders, take some of the confidence and distance out of your stride. Stagger a little. You’ve got to walk like a tired mineral-grubber, not like one of the Imperial family. And then there’s the second thing.…”

  Reaching out, he touseled her neat hairdo violently.

  “Hey!” she objected, struggling. When he stepped back, her hair formed a nebulous maze of undisciplined strands around her head and face, the intricate double-bun she’d worn now completely obliterated.

  “That’s better,” he observed, “but there’s still something not right.” After a moment, he reached down, picked up a handful of moist earth, then stepped toward her.

  “Oh no,” she warned him, putting up both hands defensively and moving backward. “I’ve been living in sludge for days. I’m not letting you smear that gunk on me!”

  “Have it your way, Leia.” He dropped the dirt and it hit the ground with a loud splat. “You do it.”

  The Princess hesitated. Then, using spit and hands and a minimum of dirt, she succeeded in wiping every trace of makeup from her face and dirtying it as little as possible.

  “How’s this?” she asked guardedly.

  Luke nodded approvingly. “Much better. You look like someone who’s been out in the desert too long without water.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered. “I’m beginning to feel like it, too.”

  “It’s necessary. I just want to see us get off this world alive.”

  “We won’t if we don’t find that food you mentioned.” He had to hurry to catch up with her as she headed toward the street.…

  III

  THEY conversed in whispers as they made their way down the metal walkway toward the better-lit buildings. More and more miners and other figures began to appear, materalizing out of the mists.

  “The town’s beginning to come alive,” Leia murmured. “They probably run three alternating shifts at the mine. Looks like one is just letting out.”

  “I don’t know,” Luke confessed, “but you’ve got to do something about your walk. Slouch some more.”

  She nodded, made an effort to comply. Luke tried not to stare at passing faces, afraid one might be staring back at them.

  “You’re still too tense. Relax. There, that’s better.”

  They stopped before a reasonably quiet, fairly well maintained structure that advertised itself as a tavern.

  “It looks peaceful enough.” He turned. “Threepio,you and Artoo wait out here. No sense asking for trouble. Find a dark corner somewhere and stay quiet until we come back.”

  “You don’t have to urge me, Master Luke,” the tall golden ’droid exclaimed fervently. “Come on, Artoo.” Both ’droids headed for a narrow passageway between the tavern and its neighboring building.

  “What do you think, Princess? Should we take a chance?”

  “I’m starving … we’ve wasted enough time.” She put a hand over the door switch. Immediately the double doors slid apart.

  Lights and noise and talk in overwhelming quantities assailed them instantly. Having exposed themselves, they had no choice but to enter, as casually as they could manage.

  Low booths filled with hectic humanity honeycombed the tavern interior. The miasma of narcotic incense and other smokes nearly asphyxiated Luke, and he had to struggle not to cough.

  “What’s wrong?” The Princess looked worried, though unaffected by the decadent atmosphere. “People are looking at you.”

  “It’s … the air,” he explained, fighting to breathe normally. “There’s something in it. A whole bunch of somethings.”

  The Princess chuckled. “Too much for you, fighter pilot?”

  Luke wasn’t ashamed to admit it. When he could spare the wind for talk again, he told her, “Basically, I’m a country boy, Leia. I haven’t had too much exposure to sophisticated entertainments.”

  She sniffed the air appraisingly. “I wouldn’t call these scents sophisticated. Thick, yes, but not sophisticated.”

  Somewhere near the center of the human whirlpool they miraculously came upon an empty table. The Princess concentrated intently on the tabletop when the human waiter approached them. She needn’t have worried. He didn’t give them a glance.

/>   “Your pleasure?” he inquired simply, distantly. The man smoked something on the job, Luke noted.

  “What’s best tonight?” he asked the man, striving to sound like someone who’d just spent ten hours in the bowels of the earth.

  “Kommerken steak, flank cut; and ootoowergs … usual supplements.”

  “For two,” Luke told him, keeping conversation to a minimum.

  That appeared to suit the attendant fine. “Got it,” he replied with equal perfunctoriness, and waded off into the mob.

  “He didn’t ask any questions,” the Princess murmured excitedly, looking back up at Luke.

  “No. This might be easier than I thought.” He was beginning to feel something like hope.

  Then his expression darkened.

  “What is it, Luke?” He gestured, and she turned to look toward the bar.

  A large, hulking miner was being feebly assailed by something human-sized, skinny, and covered completely with light green fur. It had wide, nocturnal eyes and a crest of higher, darker fur running from the crown of its head down the middle of its back. A simply worked skin of some unknown animal was wrapped about its pelvic region and several jangling necklaces adorned with primitive decorations swung from the neck.

  Presently the creature began making mewing, begging noises in a high, rippling voice. The alien singsong was coated with an unmistakable hint of desperation.

  “Vease, sir,” it begged, “smav drink? Vickerman, vickerman?”

  The big miner met this pitiful request by putting out a broad foot and kicking the native in the face. Luke winced and looked away. The Princess glanced at him.

  “What’s wrong, Luke?”

  “I can’t stand to see anything abused like that,” he muttered, “human or animal or alien.” He faced her curiously. “How can you watch it?”

  “I saw my whole world, several million people, destroyed,” she responded with chilling matter-of-factness. “Nothing mankind does surprises me anymore, except that anyone could still be surprised by it.” She turned her clinical gaze back to the scene at the bar.