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Tyrant's Test

Page 37

by Michael P. Kube-Mcdowell


  “Are you sure you don’t want to cloak us, like you did before?” Eckels said worriedly to Luke. “I’d really rather not contribute personally to the warming of Maltha Obex.”

  “The vagabond will not harm us,” Lobot said with quiet assurance.

  “Don’t worry, Dr. Eckels,” said Lando. “Lobot here spent so much time in the tubules that he got promoted to honorary egg.”

  Luke chuckled. “If you want something to worry about, Doctor, worry that your friends back at the Institute reversed two digits and dropped a decimal.”

  “Our very best planetary climatologist personally supervised the modeling of the Qella glacial epoch,” Eckels said with stiff professional pride. “If Lobot communicated his recommendations accurately—”

  “It understands,” said Lobot. “The task required the building of a new strand of memory code, but it understands.”

  “I’m still surprised at how small an energy input it’s supposed to take,” Luke said. “I thought at first we’d have to bring in half a dozen Star Destroyers and keep them here a month.”

  “Small inputs, and time,” said Eckels. “This planet teetered on the edge—it would probably have recovered on its own, as the Qella must have expected it would, but for the orbital wobble caused by the loss of the second moon.”

  “Look,” said Lando. “It’s starting.”

  The hull of the vagabond had begun to glow, crawling blue snakes of energy snapping along its length as the capacitance charge built up to a cascade. Then triple beams of energy stabbed downward from each end of the ship, creating ionized tunnels through the atmosphere in which precious chemicals began to be renewed. The beams converged at the surface of the half-frozen ocean below, creating massive explosions of steam, with towering, scalding plumes rising amidst the ice floes.

  “Pretty good light show,” Lando said lightly. “Kind of a shame there’s only the six of us to see it.”

  “Quite the contrary, General Calrissian,” said Eckels. “That soup will have to simmer a long time, and it would be best for the Qella if it did so undisturbed.”

  The bombardment of the planet went on throughout Mud Sloth’s long climb toward its rendezvous with Lady Luck. When the two craft finally met and docked, Lando and Lobot both eagerly escaped the crowded skiff for the luxury accommodations of the yacht. Threepio went with them, chasing a promise of an oil bath.

  But Luke and Eckels lingered, looking down on Maltha Obex as the vagabond, now a small thing in the distance, fell silent. Neither man spoke of his thoughts, but they shared a single mood of lingering awe and curiosity.

  When Luke closed his eyes and began breathing in deep, slow waves, Eckels noted it without comment. But he was not wholly surprised when, a short time later, the vagabond disappeared completely from view.

  “You have been practicing,” Eckels said, clapping Luke’s shoulder approvingly. “I confess I want to stay and document it all—most especially the day when the Qella begin to emerge. But this is best, to leave them alone. Tell me, what will you have done last?”

  “I don’t know how long it will last,” Luke said, gazing down on the planet. “Maybe not long at all. The forces affecting the ship are complex, and my teacher said that my touch is still too heavy. I had to try, though—try to draw the curtain and give them back their privacy, give them some time to heal, to build.” He looked toward Eckels. “But I want to come back, to meet them. I wonder how long we’ll have to wait.”

  There was more than a touch of sorrow and regret in the archaeologist’s answering smile.

  “Give them a hundred years,” Eckels said, knowing as he spoke that that meant he would never return to Maltha Obex. “Or a thousand. We will let this place stay on the charts as a dead, frozen world with nothing worth stealing or exploiting. The Qella will not miss us. Their lives will be full without us. You have given them a great gift, Luke—a future.” He looked out toward the pale white disc of the planet. “Somehow I know they will make the most of it.”

  Epilogue: Coruscant, Eight Days Later

  A damp, cold wind blowing out of a broken sky buffeted Luke Skywalker as he stood on the cliff above his seacoast hermitage. He stood there a long time, thinking of all the reasons he had raised it from the rocky sands, of the work he had thought to do there.

  He had taken the broken pieces of his father’s fortress retreat and tried to remake them into something that could redeem them from their history. But he saw now that all he had managed to build was a prison, and that he had been fortunate to escape it.

  Extending his hands and his will, Luke found the points of greatest stress within the structure and pressed upon them, found the points of greatest fragility and sundered them. With a roar that momentarily rivaled the wind, the hermitage collapsed in on itself, crushing the fighter still sealed within it.

  But that was not enough to satisfy Luke, not enough to forever erase the temptation. One after another, he raised the pieces of the ruined hermitage, the broken ship, up out of the sand and into the air, crumbling them with the force of his thoughts, until it was a dense, swirling cloud of pebble-sized fragments and metal bits.

  Then, with a final, explosive effort of will, he hurled the cloud of debris far out beyond the breakers, where it rained down on the churning water and vanished from sight.

  “It’s not time yet for me to go away,” he said to the wind by way of explanation. “And when the time comes, there will be a better place for me than this.”

  Guiding her three children through the gate ahead of her, Leia nodded to S-EP1 as she passed by. “You can lock down the perimeter, Sleepy,” she said. “We’re in for the night, and everyone else can stay out till morning.”

  “Yes, Princess.”

  Jacen and Jaina ran on ahead along the flower-lined path, and unexpected laughter and delighted squeals came back to Leia moments after they were out of sight. Leaving Anakin ambling on alone, she hurried toward the house to see what the cause of the commotion might be. But after only a few long strides, she was brought up short by the sight of Luke carrying Jaina in one arm, with Jacen at his other elbow. The three of them were all smiles, though Luke’s faded quickly when he saw Leia’s expression.

  “Been to the Fleet hospital, I hear,” Luke said, making room on the other arm for Anakin. “How’s Han doing?”

  “Better,” she said. “He’s out of the tank now, and looking more like himself. This was the first time I took the children. What are you doing here?”

  “Belatedly accepting an invitation,” he said, showing a rueful smile.

  “Help me get the children to bed,” she said.

  That took some time, for Luke’s surprise appearance had swept away any hint of sleepiness. The children would literally not let go of him without a promise that they would see him in the morning.

  “But right now, your mom and I need to talk,” Luke said firmly. “So it’s lights out and eyes closed for you. Think about your father and send him healing thoughts, so that he can come home as soon as possible.”

  Leia watched and listened with a passive curiosity. When she and Luke were finally alone in the warmly lit family room, she asked lightly, “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

  He laughed. “I haven’t changed as much as you probably wish.”

  “Did you find what you were hoping to?”

  The laugh faded from his eyes. “No,” he said. “But as happens sometimes, I found something else. I don’t know if I can explain what.”

  “I can feel a difference in you,” Leia said. “You feel—calmer.”

  “A lot happened,” he said. “I learned from some of it. Leia, I still want to know who our mother was, and what she gave to us. That still matters to me. Not knowing is an empty hole inside me, and some of what Akanah told me would fill it so well that I still want to believe it.”

  “But you came back.”

  “It’s the one little piece that maybe I did find that brought me back,” Luke said. �
��A lesson about love and family from a woman I never met, and probably never will. Leia, it’s crazy for me to be chasing a hope from Core to Rim when you and these kids are right here, real as can be. And if you’d still let me be part of loving them, and teaching them, and sharing your delight at watching them grow—well, I’m the Jedi uncle you’re looking for.”

  Her eyes misting, Leia went to him and gathered him into a long, fiercely glad embrace. “Welcome to my family, Luke,” she whispered, both offering and accepting the familiar and comforting warmth of connection. “Welcome home.”

 

 

 


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