He’d directed the final comment to the two interlopers. Apparently it was some kind of insult, although it was probably lost on the pair, spoken as it had been in human language, Lando thought. If Elders were even larger than these creatures, the gambler reflected, he certainly didn’t want to mess with them.
Vuffi Raa put on a burst of speed, whipped around as if to block the progress of the three giant beings—as if a microbe could block the progress of a bantha. “I suggest,” the droid radiated in a businesslike tone, “that you be civil to our friend Lehesu, for he has performed a great service for you and the rest of your—”
“Silence, insignificant one!” one of the creatures replied. “You know not of what you speak. We are here at the explicit request of the Elders themselves. The three of you are to come to them at once, in order to explain your impertinence and face their mighty judgment!”
• X •
“SABACC!” CRIED LANDO Calrissian, gambler, con artiste, and interstellar diplomat. He sat back on sheer nothingness with a satisfied look on his face and let the Millennium Falcon gather in his winnings, shuffle the “deck,” and deal out the “card-chips” once again. It was the weirdest and most profitable game he’d ever played.
Senwannus’gourkahipaff, senior Elder of the Oswaft, let a little ticklish signal be broadcast, indicating amusement and pleasure. “Truly it is amazing, Captainmasterlandocalrissian.” Lando gave a mental shrug: if the head vacuum-breather wished to address him with a title longer than his own, indicating deep respect and a relaxed sort of submission, the gambler wasn’t going to correct him. There was far too much at stake, and it had very little to do with the game of sabacc. “Amazing,” the thousand-meter being continued, “you cannot even see the cards, yet you have won hand after hand under fair and impartial conditions. I abase myself to your skill and intellect.”
Lando congratulated himself a little, too, principally on his luck. They were playing in the center of the Cave of the Elders, the only architectural structure, as far as he knew, within the ThonBoka, very probably the only such the Oswaft had ever constructed. Or thought to construct.
Located in the middle of the triangular plane formed by the three blue-white stars in the center of the nebula, the Cave of the Elders was a meticulous replica of the StarCave itself. From where he sat—hung might be a better word, as they were relaxing in free-fall—he could make out the folds and tucks he’d seen outside, duplicated in exact detail a mere ten kilometers away. A circular doorway repeated the pattern of the mouth of the ThonBoka (sans, he was happy for small favors, the blockading fleet), and what he’d seen of the detail outside spoke exceptionally well for the inferential powers of the Oswaft. With the exception of the adventurous Lehesu, they had never actually seen the outside of their nebula, yet they knew just what it had to look like.
The only flaw observable in the titanic modeling effort, and what made the Cave of the Elders really interesting, was that it was constructed entirely, all twenty klicks of its diameter, of precious gems.
From outside the entrance of the Cave, the Falcon’s computers pinged in his helmet phones, indicating two cards each had been dealt to Sen (Lando irreverantly abbreviated the being’s name for the sake of his overworked tongue muscles), to Feytihennasraof, the second Elder, on the senior’s left, and to Lehesu, who was also sitting in.
“You have a Three of Staves and a Commander of Sabres, Master,” Vuffi Raa informed him from the ship, “total value, fifteen.” The others would be “seeing” their cards by means of television signals produced by the computer. He wished the robot would let him count his own cards, almost as much as he wished the robot would stop calling him master, but there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it. To protect the privacy of Lando’s hand, they spoke in Old High Trammic, the ancient language of the Toka/Sharu of the Rafa System.
The Oswaft were too polite to mention that they’d “decoded” the language within five minutes of the game’s beginning. They’d play fair in any case, ignoring the robot’s signals. Both the translation and the refusal to take advantage were reflexive with the creatures; none of them had thought about the matter consciously. Honor and solving puzzles were instinctive with them.
“I’ll take one card,” Sen intoned, indicating thanks once the Falcon had electronically dealt it. Fey, too, required a card, while the precocious Lehesu stood pat. Lando asked for a card, receiving Moderation, a minus fourteen, which made his hand worth one point.
“Master, the computer has randomly altered your last card to an Eight of Flasks! That means—”
“Sabacc!” Lando said before the robot could finish. That made a hundred and eighty million credits the Oswaft owed him, if he’d kept his accounts straight. If he ever got out of that mess, life was going to be very, very different.
“This is a most diverting occupation,” Fey said. “Shall we have another hand, Captainmasterlandocalrissiansir?”
Swell: he’d been promoted by a syllable. At that rate, it would soon take all day to say his name. Maybe he should contrive to lose a few hands. It wouldn’t be easy, seeing that the computer was actually controlling the cards, but he’d think of something.
Just like he had when they’d been summoned to confront the Elders.
Authority comes in many packages, and the contents seem to vary just as much as the outer trappings. Imperial power was based on naked, lethal, brute force, pure and simple and no shilly-shallying. The position of decision-makers in the Oseon, to choose just one example, depended on wealth. In the Rafa System, some deference seemed to be paid to religious leadership, although in that system, things were so tied up in ancient science that what looked like high priests might actually be senior technicians.
The Oswaft were a conservative people. They deferred to age and experience. Lando had tried to ascertain how old the Oswaft got to be, but couldn’t. Like many lower species, they kept on growing throughout their lives. Lehesu was a young adult, say the equivalent of late teens or early twenties. He was about five hundred meters across the wingtips, and growing.
The pair of yes-men who’d picked them up near the ThonBoka mouth were apparently of middle years (or centuries or millennia), seven or seven hundred fifty meters in diameter and set in their ways. They hadn’t much liked calling on tiny strangers or having tiny strangers calling on them, and they’d liked it less that a youngster like Lehesu had gone and changed the nice, smooth, boring flow of life in the StarCave.
The three had pointed out that Lando and Vuffi Raa couldn’t simply go swimming off to meet the Elders. Lehesu wasn’t prepared to say what would happen if he attempted to transport them as he had his nutrient cylinder back in the foodless desert. Nor was Lando prepared to risk such a venture. With some haggling, the pair of outsiders was permitted to return to the Falcon where, with faster-than-light drives activated, they followed the Oswaft down into the hollow center of the nebula.
Under the triple suns of the StarCave, the Cave of the Elders was an impressive sight, glittering and gleaming from billions of points as it rotated slowly. Vuffi Raa, using the ship’s sensors, informed the gambler that there wasn’t a valuable stone in the known galaxy that wasn’t represented in huge quantities in the walls of the Cave. Moreover, the size of the gems would have sent a jeweler into a dead faint.
Senwannus’gourkahipaff and Feytihennasraof had awaited them within the Cave of the Elders. Lehesu, with his excellent grasp of Lando’s language, had spelled the names for the gambler and the robot, explaining that the apostrophe in Sen’s name represented another dozen or so minor syllables the Elder was too modest to insist upon, and that there was a third Elder around somewhere who was busy and would join them later.
“Our most cordial greetings, Captainmasterlando” had been Sen’s first words in the new form of speech Lehesu had taught the Elder in a matter of seconds. “I abjure you to forgive the somewhat overzealous invitation issued to you by our juniors.”
The senior Elder administered
a mental nudge of admonishment to the pair—a maser bolt that would have holed the Falcon, deflectors and all.
“Think nothing of it, Senwannus’gourkahipaff, your Eldership; they’re not the first underlings to get carried away with borrowed authority. What can we do for you?”
“We are,” Fey replied, “given to understand that you have brought nutrients to replace those being destroyed by others of your kind outside the StarCave. Is this correct?”
Lando nodded, a gesture he wasn’t sure the Oswaft could see or understand. They’d left the Falcon parked outside—although now he wondered why he’d bothered as there was plenty of room for her in the Cave—and jetted in to meet the Elders. “That’s right, sir. Not very much, but it’s only a beginning. And besides, I think I’ve figured out a way to get the Navy off your back.”
“But why should you bother yourself?” Fey asked. “And why should you oppose the actions and interests of your own kind in this matter? I’m afraid we do not understand you, Captainmaster, and until we do, we cannot accept this gift you offer.”
The Elders were at least a kilometer across, Fey being slightly smaller than Sen. Lando felt silly negotiating with them—it was rather like carrying on a conversation with a large apartment building. But from earlier conversations with Lehesu, he was prepared for their attitude and these very questions.
“Well, aside from the fact that Vuffi Raa and I have grown rather fond of young Lehesu, here, we consider it a sort of a game.” Lando wished, as he hung in space beside the huge raylike creature, that there was some provision for smoking a cigar in a spacesuit. He felt better making business talk if he could smoke.
“A game? Please explain what you mean.”
“Sure, Sen. I understand that you folks like mental puzzles. Well, my folks do, too. Only we’ve found a way to make them more interesting and challenging: we turn them into games. That’s where somebody else tries to solve the puzzle first or better, or opposes your solution of it while he tries to work out his own.”
“Fascinating,” Sen mused, almost to himself. He turned to Fey. “Have you ever conceived of such a thing?”
No answer came from the Elder. To a being so ancient, a new concept came as something of a shock.
“Right,” Lando said, jetting closer to the pair of aliens. “And just to make it more fascinating, we try to play for something a little better than the sheer joy of solving the puzzle.”
“Such as what?” both Elders said at once.
“Well, permit me to demonstrate, friends. Now take the game of sabacc …”
“Am I missing something obvious here,” Lando offered conversationally as he took another “card” and the others considered their hands, “or are you people completely resigned to dying?”
A pale pink tinge suffused through Lehesu at Lando’s boldness toward the Elders, but he kept his peace, trusting the gambler. Sen and Fey both performed the equivalent of looking up from their cards. Lando’s helmet indicators said he was being brushed lightly by twin radar beams.
He knew the beings were far from stupid. Their transparent bodies made it easier and more difficult at the same time to figure out their internal arrangements, but from what he’d seen, he guessed that about two-thirds of their mass was brain, and pretty astute brain at that.
“Ah yes,” Sen answered finally, “that was the reason you were demonstrating sabacc to us. I had become so fascinated with the game itself, I had quite forgotten that its purpose was explaining why you wished to help us. So, you play a great sabacc game with your own kind out there, and we are a part of it. No, my friend, we do not wish to die, but there seems little alternative. I’ll take a card, Starshipmillenniumfalcon, if you please.”
The ship, apparently unimpressed that it had been granted status not only as a person but as an Elder among the Oswaft, duly blipped out a signal representing one of the seventy-eight sabacc cards, and fell silent again.
“There are plenty of alternatives, friend, there always are. The first, of course, is that you can give up and die. I’m glad to hear you reject it. That’s a beginning, anyway. Sabacc! That makes twenty-three million you owe me. Can we take a break? I have to visit certain facilities aboard my ship, and we can carry on this conversation from there.”
He jetted across the Cave of the Elders, leaving the Oswaft behind, climbed onto the hull of the Falcon and into the airlock hatch, where Vuffi Raa greeted him. “Patch the intercom into the ship-to-ship, will you? I need a cigar to think properly, and the powwow has reached a critical point.”
“Yes, Master, I’ve been listening. What are we going to do with twenty-three million credits worth of precious stones? I don’t believe we have room in the—”
“We’ll figure that out when there’s a point to it. Right now staying alive gets top priority.” He’d unsealed his helmet and hung it on a rack, and, retaining the rest of his suit, climbed down into the lounge, where for once he left the gravity on, enjoying the feel of some weight under him.
“The second alternative,” he continued, once contact was reestablished, “is to fight. You folks have some impressive talents; your size alone is pretty terrifying, at least for people of my size, but I think—”
“Captainmasterlandocalrissian,” interrupted Sen, “we are not a fighting people, in fact the concept is nearly as new to us as that of gaming—and somewhat related, I would guess. In any event, there is a third way …”
“And what would that be?” the gambler asked as he slowly and deliberately singed the business end of a cigar, keeping the flame well away from the tip.
“Negotiation. You will recall mention of a third Elder, Bhoggihalysahonues? At this moment, she and a delegation of other Oswaft have appeared at the mouth of the StarCave and are signaling for a peace-conference with your fleet. We wish to ask upon what terms—”
“You bet your apostrophe I remember Boggy, and I can predict exactly what’s going to happen, Sen. The Navy wants you dead, old beanbag, and that’s the only terms they’re going to settle for. I’ve seen their work on other occasions, and you can believe me when I—”
“This is much as I had surmised,” the second Elder said, “and I opposed the attempt, yet we are an open and free people and would not prevent our third Elder from trying what she might. Yet you have mentioned other alternatives to dying, fighting, and negotiating.”
“There’s running away.”
“What, and leave the ThonBoka?” So much emotion loaded the response that Lando couldn’t tell which Oswaft it had come from. He poured himself a glass of fruit juice (spacesuits tend to dehydrate one a bit) and sat back down, puffing on his cigar. Vuffi Raa was forward, keeping his big red eye on the controls. It was difficult but important to remember that they were still in deep space. He could see how the Oswaft thought of the place as a safe haven.
“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I gather from Lehesu’s experiences that you folks aren’t biologically tied to the place. It’s an alternative to dying, isn’t it?”
A long, long silence ensued while the massive brains outside processed his heresy. Finally: I am not sure, Lando, that it is a desirable alternative. We are the ThonBoka; the Thonboka is the Oswaft. Would you willingly be driven out of your home, accept an eternity of wandering—”
He laughed. “Sen, I accepted wandering as a way of life a long time ago. It beats the Core out of working for a living.” The gambler mused. There were a lot of strange life-forms in the galaxy, ranging, in the matter of size alone, from these gigantic creatures, the largest he’d ever heard of, down to the tiny Crokes of … well, something-or-other. He couldn’t remember the system. What made it interesting was that in his travels he’d observed that the biggest critters were almost invariably the most gentle and timid. Well, it made sense: if you were little, you had to learn to be tough. If you were big, it didn’t matter. He guessed he’d always thought of himself as somewhere in the middle.
“Okay, yeah. Well, what if you appeared to do one
or another of these things—sort of like the way I taught you to bluff in sabacc? Say you looked like you were going to destroy the fleet. Or, say you looked like you were all dead? I hate to bring up a touchy subject, but Lehesu tells me you folks sort of disintegrate when you die, drift away in a cloud of dust?”
Another long, uncomfortable silence. At long last, the daring Lehesu spoke for his Elders. “That’s correct, Lando, we return to our constituent molecules. Not the happiest of thoughts. Why, is it important?”
Finishing his cigar, Lando stood, walked back to the ladder and up to the airlock, screwed on his helmet, and went outside. The Cave of the Elders floated beside the Falcon like a fantastic decorated egg, a million brilliant colors, a billion gleaming facets. He drifted toward the entrance and faced the three giant beings who waited for him there.
“Yes, it could be very important. It means you don’t leave any remains behind that can be detected against the normal molecular background of space. It means they won’t be looking for any stiffs.”
“Stiffs?” the three said at once.
“Bodies, corpses, DOAs, meat, Qs—corpora delicti. Tell me, what are conditions like out by the wall of the StarCave?”
If Oswaft had been capable of blinking at a rapid change of subject, Sen, at least would have done so. “Why, not terribly different from here. A bit colder, but not uncomfortably so.”
“Vuffi Raa,” Lando said into the radio in his suit, “get me some scanning data on the nebula wall, will you? I’ve been working on an idea. Sen, Fey, Lehesu, can you people get through the wall at all?”
Lehesu replied, being the only one with any practical experience in the matter. “It is all but impenetrable. One cannot—what is your expression?—’starhop’ because one cannot see where one is going. It is said that attempting it in any case will cause one to burst into flame and vanish.”
Star Wars - Lando Calrissian and the StarCave of ThonBoka Page 9