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The Cestus Deception: Star Wars (Clone Wars): A Clone Wars Novel

Page 40

by Steven Barnes


  “Was that the service this Jedi Master performed for your royals?” Obi-Wan asked, drawing his lightsaber. The soil beneath them continued to heave.

  “I don’t know,” Jesson said, then added, “Perhaps. No offense, Master Jedi. You are indeed a mighty warrior, but if I know politicians, nothing much actually happened—he was just honored for being from Coruscant.”

  Despite their danger, Obi-Wan had to chuckle. “My opinion of politicians is much like yours,” he confessed. “But I must say that G’Mai Duris seems better than most.”

  An abrupt tingle in the Force—and Obi-Wan grabbed Jesson and jumped back just in time. The soil beneath them burst, and the mouth of the first worm appeared. It was dark brown, its skin covered with countless small spikes, every three or four meters marked off with a segmented ring. If the proportions were similar to other such beasts that Obi-Wan had seen, then it was thirty meters long at the least.

  And the worm was not alone. Two more burst from the ground, their mouths gaping hungrily. It was too late for Obi-Wan and Jesson to run back to die ledge, and too far make it all the way to their destination. All they could do was find a place to make their stand.

  Obi-Wan spotted the first of several limestone spurs poking up through the soil. “Get to the rocks!” he shouted, and they dashed for the only visible safety. One of the worms humped along right behind them, moving almost as fast as a human could run.

  Obi-Wan took the rear guard, letting his companion reach safety. The Jedi scrambled up the rock with barely a moment to spare. One of the worms tried to crawl up after them, but now Obi-Wan turned and fought. His lightsaber flashed, and the worm screamed. He couldn’t actually hear the sound, but he felt it clearly through the Force.

  Jesson’s grip slipped. The spear rattled to the dirt, and Jesson slid down the rock toward the worm’s cilia-ringed mouth hole. Its razor teeth clamped down on the X’Ting’s right leg, sawing. Obi-Wan was there in an instant, and sliced the creature’s head off. Severed, the head flopped back to the sand … the remaining body still alive and writhing.

  Jesson scrambled up, leg lacerated but still functional.

  “Thank you, Master Jedi,” he said, shivering. Obi-Wan inspected the wound: the chitinous shell was splintered, exposing the tender pink muscle beneath. He bound it as best he could, and to his credit Jesson made not a single sound of pain, although it had to be brutal. When he was done, Obi-Wan looked down below them. Four worms crawled atop and beneath the soil now, and they showed no signs of abandoning pursuit.

  So. This was what had happened to the “true” X’Ting, those who had remained behind. The soil they had built up over ages to grow their crops—burying their dead, fertilizing with their wastes—had finally become deep enough to conceal predators. The X’Ting in that first cavern had been caught unawares, driven into the hollow statues. And once there, they had been unable to open the sealed metal doors. There in the darkness, they had become desperate enough to resort to cannibalism. There they had been trapped.

  As Obi-Wan and Jesson were trapped, here on one of the few rock spurs on the floor of this second cavern. Obi-Wan felt the first tiny whisper of despair and bared his teeth. He would not fail. Not die. Not here in the dark. He had a job to do; he would find a way to do it.

  The worms hissed at them, their cilia wavering back and forth with a chilling, unnatural appetite.

  Jesson grimaced and climbed a little higher as another worm tried to ascend the spur. Obi-Wan seared it with the lightsaber, and it retreated without a sound. Again Obi-Wan could sense its shriek through the Force.

  The soil humped up in furrows. From both far ends of the cave additional worms appeared, plowing up the ground and gnashing at them. There had to be ten or fifteen in all by now. Some larger, some smaller, all deadly.

  “Maybe they smell us. Or hear us. Or they’re calling each other to dinner.” He shone his light up above them. “What’s that? There’s something up there.”

  Favoring his injured foot, Jesson climbed higher on the spur, shining his light as he did.

  There was indeed something clinging atop the spur. No, Obi-Wan realized as they climbed. Not something. Someone. And not clinging.

  Strapped to the rock by a length of rope was the desiccated corpse of an X’Ting male. Little was left but carapace and dried flesh.

  “What happened here?” Jesson whispered. “This was my broodmate Tesser. He made it this far, and no farther.” He climbed higher to touch his own forehead to his dead brother’s withered brow. “He climbed up here to escape the worms. Strapped himself so that he wouldn’t slide back down if he lost consciousness. If he became weak. And here he died.” So. Now they knew what had happened to two of those who had tried to reach the egg chamber.

  “We will die,” Jesson said, his voice flat and drained of emotion.

  “That’s defeatist thinking,” Obi-Wan said. “After all, Tesser made it farther than the other. Perhaps we can make it farther still.”

  Something like hope blossomed in Jesson’s eyes. “You have a plan, Jedi?”

  “Not yet, but I will.”

  What distance to the far wall? Obi-Wan measured it with his eyes: sixty meters. Too far to run. The worms would overwhelm the wounded Jesson, and perhaps Obi-Wan, as well. And there was no point in reaching the egg chamber without his X’Ting companion. Without Jesson’s specialized knowledge, he had no chance at all of accessing the vault.

  “What equipment do you have?”

  “My spear is gone. I have the glowlight, and a grapnel line.”

  A grapnel line? That might come in useful. “Let me see it,” Obi-Wan said.

  Jesson showed him the gun. It was about the size of a hand blaster, with a filament reel nestled beneath. Fairly standard GAR surplus.

  “How much line?” Obi-Wan asked.

  “Twenty meters?”

  So. They had twenty meters of grapnel cable as standard equipment, but that wasn’t enough to get them over …

  To their left jutted another rock spur, this one about fifteen meters from their destination: the far wall. The spur was about thirty meters away. Could they make it that far? No, not with Jesson’s wounded leg.

  All right. What, then?

  Obi-Wan looked up above their heads and noted a ten-meter stalactite above them, halfway between their current position and that rock spur. A plan began to evolve. It would depend on the strength of that stalactite, but it might just work.

  “I’m going to try something,” Obi-Wan said. “If you trust me, we might make it through this.”

  “All right, Jedi,” Jesson said. “I have no choice. Let’s hear your idea.”

  “You’ll see,” Obi-Wan said, and climbed higher up the spur. The worms humped around the base. From time to time one or two tried to crawl up, but they couldn’t get good purchase on the rock and slipped back down.

  Obi-Wan took Jesson’s grapnel and aimed carefully, firing it at the protruding stalactite. The line flew true, its claw-tip anchoring deeply into the rock. He yanked hard, and it seemed firm enough.

  “All right,” he said. “Hold on to my waist.”

  Jesson looked at him dubiously, then his strong, thin arms encircled Obi-Wan’s waist.

  Obi-Wan braced himself and swung off the rock spur. They flew in a long, shallow glide, the radius of their arc taking them so close to the soil that the worms hungrily snapped at them, cilia weaving as if in starvation or anger.

  Jesson clung to him, faceted red eyes wide in wonder as they flew…

  Then the X’Ting uttered a shrill series of terrified clicks as the stalactite above them broke. They were on the upswing of the arc when it happened. A huge chunk of rock snapped free and fell, sabotaging their arc. They flew up, then the rock smacked down into the soil, jerking them back down hard, so that they whuffed into the soil a moment later, the impact slamming the breath from Obi-Wan’s lungs.

  He scrambled up as fast as he could, winded but unwilling to die a meal for the worms.
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  “Run!” he screamed as the creatures streaked toward him. He had the presence of mind to trigger the grapnel’s release mechanism and jerk the line free. The reel pulled in the filament as he sprinted toward the next rock, feet pounding puffs of dirt from the ground. Jesson was limping too slowly. Obi-Wan closed his mind to pain, grabbed with his right arm, and, ignoring the strain, forcing himself to greater effort, heaved the X’Ting soldier up on the rock then leapt up himself as one of the worms grabbed his left boot. He reached out, scrabbling for the rock and failing to find purchase as the worm struggled to drag him back down. But Jesson had regained his senses, and reached down for Obi-Wan’s wrist with primary and secondary hands. He braced his spindly legs and pulled for dear life.

  Obi-Wan managed to brace his knee against the rock and pushed, forcing himself up as the worm lost its grip. He scrabbled up a bit higher and then, bracing himself, turned with lightsaber in hand and cut his attacker in half. The severed portion dropped to the ground and writhed, ichors oozing from the end, then disappeared into the ground and was gone.

  The Jedi gulped air and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up at Jesson. “Thank you,” he said.

  “We’re even now,” Jesson said. He scanned the wall ahead. “Well, we’re better than halfway there.”

  “That might be enough, if we’re clever,” Obi-Wan said. He climbed up the limestone spur, measuring the distance to the far wall, hoping that he had been correct. Otherwise, it was all too possible that their skeletons might, one distant day, be found here on the rock.

  “Where is the far opening?” he asked, shading his eyes with his hands. “I can’t see it.”

  “There is a rock ledge, about five meters above the ground,” Jesson said, pointing.

  Obi-Wan squinted until he could make it out. “Yes.”

  “And beyond that is the entrance to the chamber. I can get us in. After that …” The X’Ting shrugged. “I do not know.”

  “All right.” Obi-Wan measured the distance between the far wall and the rock spur, and found a surface that looked suitable.

  He fired the grapnel. Once again the line flew true, anchoring itself in the rock. He anchored the other end to their spur. He hated to leave the gun behind, but either there were additional resources available on the other side, or all attempts at survival might be futile.

  “Give me the light,” Obi-Wan said. He turned Jesson’s glowlight up to full radiance and shone it directly in the worms’ eyes.

  For many years the worms had been in the caves beneath ChikatLik. But it was possible they hadn’t been down here long enough to grow blind—that, in fact, brilliant light might actually be painful and confusing to them.

  And clearly it was. Already they were scurrying away, their pain echoing through Obi-Wan’s Force-sense. “Let’s go!” he yelled. And he began moving out over the soil, hand over hand along the line.

  Twenty meters, give or take. The worms seemed to have recovered from the light: they were humping back in the direction of their quarry. Obi-Wan swung his feet up and crossed them over the line for support, then triggered the lamp again beneath them. The worms gave their soundless squeal and retreated—

  But not as far. Obi-Wan extended his senses through Force, sensing the hissing, coiling creatures as they crept back. He unhooked his feet from the line and moved hand over hand again, increasing his speed.

  The line cut into his fingers. Pain like the slice of a frozen razor raced down his arm to his elbow. He bit back a scream, refusing to give up their position.

  Could the worms see them? He wasn’t certain, but Obi-Wan considered it unlikely the creatures had evolved to hunt prey dangling over their heads.

  Still, the vibration of the falling rock, and perhaps the scream of the wounded worm, had summoned additional creatures from deeper in the caves. By the fungal glow along the walls, he could see that the soil beneath them teemed with worms, boiled with them, hundreds, thousands of them—finger-size to meters in length. They jostled and snapped at each other, reaching up for Obi-Wan and Jesson.

  One of the severed segments actually managed to leap free of the soil, gnashing at Obi-Wan’s pant leg, missing the calf muscle but enmeshing itself in the cloth. It whipped its tail this way and that, trying to find purchase.

  Swaying, trying to shake the thing free, Obi-Wan lost hold with his right hand. Behind him, Jesson emitted a sour, frightened wisp of air.

  Dangling by his left hand, Obi-Wan called his lightsaber to his right hand, triggered it, and cut at the thing hanging from his leg. Severed, the worm fell in halves to the ground below them.

  Hand over hand. Hand over hand. The grapnel line sliced his palms, but he shut the pain away in a small dark room in his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

  When finally his feet were over the ledge, he dropped down and pivoted. Jesson was almost there, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The X’Ting warrior jumped down and almost missed the ledge; he battled for balance, Obi-Wan snatching at his hand.

  Then they were both safe on the ledge, far above the snapping mouths of the worms.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Obi-Wan turned toward the wall. Viewed from the far side, shadow had disguised a shallow tunnel, but the mouth was easy to see now. At the end of the tunnel was a sealed durasteel door inset with some manner of electronic reader device. “How do we open this?”

  Jesson pressed his face up close to the door. “It is said that any X’Ting can open this door. It is what awaits within—”

  As if it had been listening to his speech and timing its own response, the door sighed open. Obi-Wan and Jesson stepped inside.

  6

  The chamber within was roughly egg-shaped, constructed of some kind of white, curved tile, probably something produced offworld. There were two other doors: one on the far side of the chamber, and the other directly to the right of them, with another sensor housed against it.

  Obi-Wan walked to the door across the way. A monitor screen was set into the middle, and he manipulated its finger-pad until a sharp little holo appeared. It seemed to be an image taken right outside this very portal. When it focused, he turned away again: huddled on the far side of the door was a body. Another X’Ting brother who had tried and failed to reach the egg chamber. Obi-Wan could not see what had killed the warrior, but his body looked as if the exoskeleton had been partially … dissolved.

  He shuddered. Without whatever specific instructions had been destroyed by plague or supernova, could anyone have been expected to survive such a gauntlet?

  Jesson was at the silver door, touching sensors and manipulating the controls. Obi-Wan waited while he attempted several different patterns, but then the young X’Ting warrior hit the wall with a balled fist in frustration. “I can’t open it!”

  “How many times did you try?” Obi-Wan asked, alarmed. “Don’t you only have three attempts?”

  “Not here,” Jesson said. “Once we are inside, the challenge truly begins.”

  “I can try my lightsaber if you wish.”

  Jesson laughed. “I think not. This door was designed to resist any known torch. Just give me a bit of time, and—”

  But Obi-Wan had already triggered his weapon and was forcing the glowing blade into the door. “Turn your head away,” he warned. Jesson complied.

  Within a few moments, Obi-Wan knew Jesson was right: this door was certainly tougher than the previous one. Regardless, the Jedi weapon blistered the durasteel, sending sparks flying and globules of glowing metal dribbling down to the floor.

  The door was sandwiched with energy-absorbing circuits that slowed, but never stopped him. Finally the door twisted free, metal droplets spraying as it clattered down. They stepped through the smoking entrance.

  Within was another egg-shaped chamber with a three-meter pentagonal gold seal emblazoned on the floor. On the far side, a single molded chair-sat before an array of … what? Nozzles and beam projectors pointed menacingly at the chair, clear warning for anyone w
ho would brave the challenge.

  Rows of readouts and meters blinked to life as they entered, and Obi-Wan inspected them swiftly. Most of the controls were labeled in both Basic and X’Tingian. One of the most provocative labels read: worm call/worm sensor.

  Worm call? Then one of his questions was more or less answered. The worms had not been natural to the cave. The security company had brought them here as a passive guarding device. But had something gone horribly wrong? Had the worms found a way into the Hall of Heroes, where so many X’Ting still lived?

  That would explain much. What a moment of horror that must have been, when the mindless creatures appointed to guard their most precious treasure burrowed or found a way through the rock wall separating the egg chamber from the living settlement, and chaos reigned.

  A hologrammic display caught his eye. A sonic gauge of some kind, labeled hypersonic repel. So … the worms were called by sound, and could be repelled the same way. A simple answer, but one unknown to the X’Ting.

  Jesson had already eased his way into the command seat. Obi-Wan smelled the change in the room and guessed that the X’Ting was calming down, preparing to perform a task for which he had long prepared.

  Jesson’s four sets of fingers interlaced, and there was a BRRRRAKK! sound as sixteen knuckles cracked in a whiplash.

  The X’Ting began his sequence, first speaking in X’Tingian, then switching to Basic, perhaps in respect for Obi-Wan. “The start-up sequence is on record,” he said, his six limbs moving with insectlike precision as he manipulated the controls.

  “What is all of this?” Obi-Wan asked, indicating the nozzles and ray projectors surrounding the seat in a halo. Was it possible that the legend, the fragmentary information available to Jesson, was incorrect, and it wasn’t the eggs that would be destroyed if three wrong answers were given—but the questioner himself?

 

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