Star Wars®: The Cestus Deception

by Steven Barnes

  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.

  “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 fingerpad 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 o
nly 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 who 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?

  For the first few minutes Jesson’s efforts were unrewarded; then a hologram blossomed before them. The glowing image was a schematic of the entire room, the chamber itself. They could see a narrow shaft beneath the gold seal, and at the bottom of that shaft, behind a thick shield, lay two precious eggs surrounded by a laser array. Tentatively, he reached out through the Force…but the mechanism controlling the array was too complex for his understanding. His heart sank. There was little question that the array would defeat any efforts he might make to circumvent it. How he wished that Anakin were here! His Padawan learner was an intuitive genius with all things mechanical, and might well have devised a means of defeating this apparatus. Obi-Wan felt helpless.

  Thankfully, his X’Ting companion had survived to enter the capsule. Their only hope of success lay in Jesson’s four capable hands.

  Jesson took the controls as if he were playing some kind of complex musical instrument. Obi-Wan could hear varying sighs and squeaks, and the X’Ting warrior answered the calls in a blur of finger-play across the control board.

  Finally the schematic floated to the left. A spherical target shape appeared, its three layers rotating above a core resembling the egg chamber.

  Three concentric layers. Obi-Wan’s mouth felt dry.

  He glanced at his wrist chrono and was astounded. Had only an hour elapsed since they had first entered the catacombs? Since they had left the X’Ting council chamber? It felt like days!

  An X’Ting voice with an interrogative intonation sounded, followed by a voice speaking in Basic. “Answer the following question: What is in the hive but not of the hive? What nurtures but is nurtured, what dreams but never sleeps?”

  Jesson took a deep breath. From a belt pod he extracted a flat rectangle. “This is the last remaining key chip,” he said. “I have only three chances, but I think that we will succeed.”

  “Do you know the answer to the riddle?” Obi-Wan asked.

  “Yes,” Jesson said confidently. “It is the Zeetsa. They live in the hive but are not X’Ting. They give to us, but in turn receive nourishment and care. They dream but are aware.” His certainty increasing with every motion, Jesson placed the card in its slot.

  There was a soft blur, and the voiced of the scanner said: “Your answer?”

  “The Zeetsa,” Jesson said.

  There was a pause. The sphere began to rotate more swiftly and the outer third began to peel away, the pieces dissolving as they did. Jesson sat, astounded, as the voice said, first in X’Tingian and then in Basic:

  “Incorrect.”

  Jesson stood from the chair, eyes wide and disbelieving. The voice said: “Sit down, or the session is terminated.”

  Jesson looked back at Obi-Wan. The nozzles at the edges of the room opened like sunblossoms welcoming the dawn. Obi-Wan suspected—no, he knew that if the session was terminated, so were they. And so were the eggs.

  “Sit down,” he said quietly. And Jesson did. The nozzles seemed to track their motion. Obi-Wan had no interest in discovering what might flow through them at a moment’s notice.

  “Do you wish to continue the sequence?” the machine asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” Jesson said miserably.

  “Yes. You may choose personal termination. If you choose this option, the eggs will not be damaged.”

  “I’ll try again,” he said, and swallowed hard.

  “Very well.” A pause. The pause lasted for so long that Obi-Wan wondered if it was going to speak again, but then it did.

  “Who lived and now stand still? Who cared not for acclaim, but are idolized by all? Who carried weight and now ring hollow?”

  “You speak Basic and X’Tingian,” Obi-Wan said to Jesson. “Are the words accurately translated?”

  The warrior’s serrated teeth clattered. “I think so. There is a certain poetry missing from the Basic translation.”

  “ ‘Who lived and stand still,’ ” Obi-Wan went on. “That could have two meanings: to be motionless, or to persist, to ‘still stand,’ if you get my meaning. Do you understand this one?”

  “I believe so,” Jesson said, but he no longer seemed so confident.

  “Then do you think you know the answer?”

  Jesson stared at the spilling sphere. Just two layers left. “I think so.”

  “Then answer,” Obi-Wan said, trying to give the X’Ting confidence that he himself did not entirely feel.

  Jesson took a deep breath. “I am ready to proceed,” he said.

  “Answer,” the machine said.

  “The heroes of the hive. The Hall of Heroes.”

  The seconds ticked past, and nothing happened. Then the sphere began to rotate more swiftly, and the second, orange layer peeled away and vanished.

  “Incorrect,” the voice said.

  Jesson shivered in the seat, and Obi-Wan detected a sharp, sour odor in the air. Fear? “They should not have sent me,” the X’Ting said.

  Self-pity? Jesson did not seem the type, but…Then the warrior
went on, haltingly, “I can’t do this. Because of me, the eggs will be destroyed.”

  There it was. The reaction hadn’t been self-pity at all. It was concern for the eggs Obi-Wan had heard in Jesson’s voice, seen in his body, smelled in the air.

  The warrior was on the edge, about to give up. Obi-Wan had seen this before. It was not fear, as most beings knew it, because for most, fear was a matter of personal loss: loss of self-image, loss of health, loss of life. But even without being able to directly interpret the pheromones now flooding the air, he knew that these were not the source of Jesson’s anguish. The X’Ting warrior loved the hive, and was now terribly afraid of letting it down. He had been well chosen. He would be more than happy to die in the accomplishment of this task, die anonymously and in great pain if need be, if the hive could only survive and thrive, and be raised up to its rightful glory.

  Jesson was locked almost in paralysis, his hands hovering over the controls. Every muscle in his body seemed to be stiffened in unyielding contraction, all of the cockiness drained from him by the reality of the tests he had already failed. “How?” he said. “How could it be? What answers were they looking for?”

  “We can’t know,” Obi-Wan said, and laid a hand on the X’Ting’s shoulder. “All we can do, all we can ever do, is the best we can. The rest is controlled by the Force.”

  “The Force!” Jesson spat. “I’ve heard so much about you precious Jedi and your Force.”

  “It is not our Force,” Obi-Wan said, trying to comfort him. “It owns us. And you. It creates all of us, but is also created by us.”

  “Riddles!” Jesson screamed. “Nothing but riddles. I’ve had enough!”

  He leapt up from the seat and ran across the room, hammering at the door, screaming, “Let me out! Let me out!”

  “Return to the seat, or the session will be terminated,” the machine said calmly.

  Obi-Wan gazed at Jesson and then made a snap decision. He went to sit in the chair.