Star Wars - Correlian trilogy 3 - Showdown at Centerpoint

by Allen McBride

  CHAPTER E LE V E N

  The Ripples Spread It was evening, and Kieyvits and Dracmus were just on the point of leaving. Han had lost count of the number of times they had come to eali, asking if Leia had changed her mind yet. This had to be the third or fourth visit already today. Clearly, they did not know when to give up. Leia, Han, Mara, and the Selonians were all in the living room of the prison villa, standing up, saying their pointless diplomatic good-byes, when suddenly the com system in the corner came to life, all on its own. A blare of static filled the room, Han was startled enough to jump half a meter in the air, but the others took it all a bit more calmly. "Relax, Han." said Mara. "Someone out there has just used the auto-on system, that's all/' It was possible to turn most com systems on by remote control, so that the authorities could make an emergency announcement. The flat-field screen came on, showing a crazy-quilt of shifting, scrambling color. Then the image settled down to show a grainy image of a huge grinning skull It appeared to a thunderously loud and distorted musical accompaniment. The graininess and distortion told Han that the signal was being broadcast by a transmit- ter that wasn't quite up to the job, some piece of equipment that was being pressed into service. Even as he judged the technical quality of the broadcast as a matter of reflex, it took Han a moment to realize the full implications of the system's power-on. "Hey. wait a second!" he said. "This means the jamming is down! Now we can- "Shhh! Quiet,'' Leia said. ''If it's worth it to Thrackan to shut off the jamming just to make an announcement, it has to be important. I want to hear it." She hit a button on the com system's control panel, setting it to record the message, then sat down in front of the com screen. "How arc you knowing it is Sal-Solo who-" began Dracmus, when the skull image faded away and, sure enough, there was Sal-Solo himself, seated in what looked like the control room of a small military craft of some sort, smiling with every bit of the warmth and kindness of the skull his image replaced. There was something awkward, a bit clumsy about the setup, as if it had been improvised. The image wobbled a bit, as if it was coming from a handheld holographic recorder. "Greetings to all of you throughout the CorelHan system.1' Thrackan said as a bit of static scrambled his image for a second. "I am Thrackan Sal-Solo, Diktat of Corcllia. I have ordered that all communications jamming be turned off, so that 1 might inform all those in the Coreliian system-our friends and enemies alike- of two very important new prizes that Human League troops, acting under my command, have won. First, let it be known that we have gained control of Drall's planetary repulsor. The New Republic kept even the existence of this extremely powerful device secret from you, the people of the Coreliian system- "Because we didn't know it existed," Han muttered. "Shhhh!" hissed Leia. "-but now it is our possession. Soon we will control the repulsor on the planet Corellia as well. 1 understand that these devices are unknown to all of you. Suffice it to say that with these powerful weapons we shall be able to protect ourselves from all our enemies, whoever they may be." Dracmus turned to Kleyvits. "The League now has the Drall repulsor?" she demanded. "What will this mean?" "The second prize that we have won is of a more personal nature," Thrackan went on. "We have rescued the three children of Leia Organa Solo, Chief of State of that same New Republic." Han felt the blood drain from his face, felt his heart turn to ice. He looked to Leia and saw the same horror there. "We have saved them from the aliens who held them prisoner," Thrackan went on. "They are safe, here, with me now. I look forward to my chance to return them to their mother. First, of course, she must make her whereabouts known to us. She herself must come out of hiding and confirm her recognition of the Corel-Man Sector's freedom. I offer this video imagery to prove that I have the repulsor, and have the children safe." "Of all the low-down, dirty, rotten-" Han growled. "The lies that man tells!" The screen went dark again, and then showed a vast, silver cylindrical interior space, as seen from the bottom. The image was a bit wobbly still, and the resolution was not all it could be. but the picture was clear enough for all of that. The hoiocam panned about to show an assault boat-and the Millennium Falcon-sitting at the bottom of the cylinder. Men in uniforms walked purposefully about the two ships. The hoiocam panned up, to show six huge cones rising from the floor, and a seventh, larger than the others, in the center of the chamber, with the sky visible through the top of the chamber. "It is at least most certainly idcntical-ish to our own repulsor-" said Dracmus, before Kleyvits cut her off with a warning glare. The holocam view swung back down to the floor of the chamber and zoomed in to a group of forlorn-looking figures sitting and standing in a confined space. The view faded away, and then the image brightened to show a closer view of the sad-looking group. It was the children, held inside a force field containment, with Chewbacca, Ebrihim, and a Drall Leia did not know held in an adjacent containment. The cam moved from face to face, showed a close-up of each of them. Jacen, looking sad but determined; Jaina worried, her gaze straying to Anakin; Anakin glaring straight at the cam. His face was streaked with tears, and he looked snuffly, as if he had just calmed down after crying. The cam moved along to show Thrackan, smiling coldly. Leia choked back a sob, and Han felt a lump in his own throat. Thrackan had them. Thrackan had stolen children, Han's children. Thrackan had kidnapped his own flesh and blood. But then Han felt his sickness at heart, his fear, his horror, turn to cold, hard anger, clear-sighted anger. Thrackan wanted them scared, and shocked. But already Han was determined not to give Thrackan what he wanted. The holocam panned to the second Drall, and then, at last, to Chewbacca. There was something in Chewbacca's stance, in Chewbacca's expression, that gave Han hope. Chewbacca stood tall, he looked at the holocam, bared his fangs at it. He didn't look or act remotely beaten. Han knew Chewie-and that was not a Chewbacca who thought he was beaten. In that instant Han knew, knew beyond doubt, that Chewbacca still had a trick or two up his sleeve. Or at least he would have, if he wore clothes. The image faded away and returned to the original shot of Thrackan in the ship's control room. "That -ould be proof enough f- all that I speak the truth," Thrackan said, as another ripple of static whipped through the broadcast. "I await the answer of the Chief of State, and as Diktat of the Independent Sector of Coreilia, I call upon all Corellians to grant me their true allegiance." The skull-and-dagger image came back up, there was another blare of martial music, and the screen went dead. "Han-Han-he's got our children. He's got our children, and we-we can't do what he says. We can't." Leia looked to her husband, her eyes full of tears. "I know." said Han, the words tearing at his insides. "It wouldn't do any good, even if we tried." What good would it do, even, if Leia .said the words, even if she confirmed Corellian independence? At the very least, she would be driven from office, more than likely arrested on a charge of treason, and tiic agreement repudiated-and that would be nothing more than simple justice. It was plainly obvious thai Coreilia could not be allowed to break away, or else the whole New Republic might well collapse. Even a failed attempt, a failure that managed to seem noble and heroic, that looked like patriots struggling to throw off tyranny, would badly weaken the New Republic. Perhaps weaken it fatally. And how many would die in a new round of wars and rebellions? How many children of other parents would be murdered in those battles? " know we can't,"1 Han said, the words ashes in his mouth. "But how can we let him have them?" "This is most horrifying, and most bad!" said Dracmus. "Thrackan turns even more deeply against his own blood, his own Den and clan." Kleyvits turned toward Draemus. "What is it you are saying, Hunchuzue?" It was plain that "Hunchuzuc" was not meant as a compliment when it came from Kleyvits. "Know you not, eminent Klcyvils? Thrackan Sal-Solo is of the blood of Han Solo, of Leia Organa Solo's children! Close as two clans of the same Den! He threatens his own!" "Impossible!" Kleyvits said. "How could any being do such a thing? I am astonished! Astonished by so many things. Thrackan asks that you confirm your recognition of Corellian independence! Have you indeed recognized his claim? I do not understand, and I must." "Thrackan Sal-Solo lied," Dracmus said, the disgust plain in her voice. "He said things that
were not true, for his own gain. Half of what he said was false, or else truth phrased to make lies seem true." "Impossible again! He said that- "Quiet! Both of you!" Mara shouted. "It is possible, and he has done it." She gestured with her arm to indicate Han and Leia. "He has done it to this man, and this woman, and their children. Respect their shock and sorrow. Be gone! Give them time for shock, for grief, a nd take your foolish debates elsewhere!" "No!" shouted Han. All his anger at his cousin, his blazing hot fury at the villainy of his own relation, suddenly found a new target, one closer to home, one that he could strike at and do some good. Suddenly he found words that were weapons, weapons that could strike at the bumbling, seemingly reasonable, manipulative, dissembling enemy who stood before him. "Stay where you arc! You, Kleyvits. How dare you sneer at Thrackan Sal-Solo, because he holds those of his blood hostage for gain? You do the same! You hold us!" "But-but-you are not of my family, not of my blood!" Han stabbed his finger at Dracmus and spoke. "She is of your blood, and you hold her spirit hostage by holding us, by forcing her to collaborate with you in goading us, harassing us. "She has saved my life, and I hers. She has risked her life for mine, and I have risked mine for hers. She has vouched for me with your folk. She has granted me her protection. We have lived and fought together. No, it is not blood-but it is family. We have claims on each other, of duty and respect. We were allies against you and your Overden. Now you force her to spit on her allies, against her will, for your own amusement." "Honored Solo, please--no more!'' Dracmus said. "There is much more, much more," Han said to Dracmus. "Your people speak the truth and have no skill in lies. Can you say, with honesty, that anything of what I say is wrong?" Dracmus suddenly seemed smaller, sadder, pushed down. "No," she said, "I cannot." Suddenly Han was inspired. Suddenly he had an idea, a hunch, an instinct. It might be wrong-but if it was right-if it was right, and he understood the Selonians properly . . . Yes. Yes. "Then let us have more truth," Han said. "You, Kleyvits. Speak now of your repulsor. Who operates it? Whose hand-paws are on the controls?" Kleyvits looked suspiciously at Han. "Why, those of good Selonians, of course." "But whose Selonians?" Han demanded. "Are they yours? Are they of the Overden?" There was a moment's deadly silence, and Kleyvits stood stock-still, only her eyes moving, back and forth from Han to Dracmus. Then her whiskers twitched once, involuntarily, and the claws of her hand-paws extended just a hairbreadth before retracting. "I must say no more about that," she replied. Han felt an angry jubilation, a moment's brutal glee. He" had won. He knew it. But he could not play the next card in this hand of sabacc. Only Dracmus could turn it over. This was (he crucial moment. Dracmus could choose not to hear what she had heard, or else- "You are wrong, eminent Kleyvits," Dracmus hissed from behind clenched, fully exposed, needle-sharp teeth. "You arc wrong down to the depths of your dishonored soul. You must, indeed, say more about it. You must say a great deal more." "I-I must say no more- "Who?" 'Dracmus demanded. "Who controls the repulsor? We capitulated because you had shown your power. But the power was not yours! It is dishonor! Who?" "I must say no more- "I will be ANSWERED1" bellowed Dracmus, a Dracmus who suddenly seemed the size and spirit of an enraged Wookiee. Her eyes blazed, her fur bristled. Her claws were out, her teeth were bared, and her tail-stump iashed with anger. "WHO?' "It is-they are-they are-the-the Cast-outs. The Sacorrians. The Selonians of the Triad.'1 "Sweet burning stars,'1 Mara whispered. "The Sacorrians. The Triad. I don't believe it." The room was silent again, but the silence seemed to echo from every corner, to shout at them all, to fill the room with its deadly emptiness. "If an ourworlder, a human skilled in lies, had told me such a thing. I would join with the honored Jade and refuse to believe it,'' Dracmus said, speaking at last, speaking in a voice as low, as quiet, as threatening and ominous as far-off thunder. "But you, a Selonian, speak the words, Klcyvits. and I am forced to believe. The words sicken me. The truth fills me with revulsion." Kleyvits dropped to all fours and cringed at Dracmus's feet. Plainly, it was no empty ritual. It was Kleyvits submitting to Dracmus and begging for mercy. "Rise up," snarled Dracmus. "Rise up and come with me. Others must be sickened by the truth. Others must hear. And then the days of the Overden will be over." Klcyvits got up on her hind legs and bowed deeply to Dracmus. Dracmus did not acknowledge the bow, but turned and left the room, her head held high, the humans forgotten. Kleyvits followed after her, head down, shoulders slumped, the roles of victor and vanquished utterly reversed. And, suddenly, the humans were alone. "I don't understand," said Han, drastically understating the case. "1 had a hunch there had to be some ringers brought in. 1 figured it had to be outsiders who had researched its operation that were actually running the repulsor. I figured that would make Kleyvits look a little bad-but nothing like that. What happened?" "I'll explain later," Mara said. "Right now, see to Leia." Han turned toward his wife, who had sat back down in one of the splendid, luxurious chairs that filled this splendid, luxurious prison of a villa. She was sobbing quietly to herself, the tears falling quietly. "Oh, Han. Our children. That man has our children." "I know," said Han. "I know. But he is not going to keep them. I promise you that we will get them-But suddenly Leia was on her feet, looking up, an eager, faraway look in her.eyes, the change in her demeanor bewilderingly fast. Han exchanged a glance with Mara, and it was plain they were both wondering, for a fleeting moment, if Lcia had suddenly become unhinged. But Han should have known better. Leia was made of sterner stuff than that. "It's Luke!" she said. "Luke is coming this way. I can fee! him, reaching out with the Force to me. He's homing in on me." "How soon is he coming?" Han asked. "How fast will he- Han's question was answered even as it was drowned out by the roaring thunder of a fast, low-flying aircraft. The tremendous noise filled the room, rattled the windows, and knocked several knickknacks off side tables. The sound receded as suddenly as it had arrived, as Luke's X-wing buzzed the villa. Han rushed out the open doors and saw the X-wing flying off into the distance before swinging around to make another pass. The X-wing came in low and slow this time, circling the villa. Lcia and Mara had joined Han outside, and all of them were frantically waving their arms, as if there was some mad chance that Luke would miss them, after flying in directly on top of them with pinpoint accuracy. The X-wing made one long, slow circuit around the perimeter of the villa, firing one or two bursts of turbolaser fire to encourage the guards to be on their way. The guards took very little convincing. By the time the X-wing set down next to the Jade's Fire, they were all headed straight for the nearest spot on the horizon. The canopy of the X-wing swung open, and Luke climbed out as fast as he could and jumped to the ground. He threw his arms around his sister, and then around Han. Mara hung back from these more effusive greetings, but at least managed a sincere-looking smile for Luke. "Oh, Luke, it's been so long, and so much has happened!" said Leia, giving him yet another hug. "That it has, Leia, that it has," said Luke. "I don't know that it's been all that much time," said Han, "but I'll go along with the part about a lot happening." The last time they had seen Luke, he was bidding them all farewell on their way to a nice, quiet family vacation on Corellia. Han hadn't expected to encounter anything more exciting than a walk down memory lane, or anything more deadly than an excessively dull diplomatic reception. Things had not turned out as expected. It did seem a lifetime ago since they had seen Luke, but how long had it really been? A few weeks? A month or two, at most? The constant changes from planet to planet, the differences in length of day and time zone, all made it hard to keep track. All he knew for sure was that it seemed as if everything had been happening at once for a long, long time. Luke looked up from his embrace with Han and Leia, and nodded to the other party present. "Hello, Mara," he said. "It's good to see you." "Good to see you too, Luke," she said, and it seemed to Han as if the hard edge of her voice was just a trifle softer than usual. "I wish the occasion could be happier," Luke replied. "I saw Thrackan's broadcast. I don't know what to say, except I'm sorry. We'll get them back. Leia. I promise we will." "I know we will, Luke," said Leia. "1 know. But than
k you." "Look," said Mara, "no offense to anybody, hut Luke's chased off all the guards. I'll bet we can crack open the force field around \J Jade's Fire pretty quick if we tried. Shouldn't we be escaping along about now?" Luke shook his head. "Let's get your ship clear, by all means. But I think it might be smart if you stayed right here for now. If I've got this worked out right, we're going to need a lot of help from the people who were holding you, and we'd better slay where they can find us." "Why? What?" asked Han. "What's happened?" "A lot," said Luke. "Most of it bad. Though maybe there's some good news, as well, buried underneath it all. And that's where our Selonian friends come in." Han looked at Luke, and sighed wearily. "It never is simple, is it? Come on, kid. Let's head inside. I think it's just about time we all sal down and compared notes." "Q9! Q9! Come in! Q9! Are you there?" "Of course 1 am here,'' Q9 replied. "I'm here, right where you left me, upside down in a storage bin. Where else would I be?" The droid had grown quite tired of his hiding place, and become quite irritable as a result. "An interesting rhetorical question," said Ebrihim, his whispered voice coming in via the droid's cornlink system. "But never mind. Suffice to say that we would like you to come over here, now, if you would." "With pleasure," replied Q9. "Or more accurately, I will take great pleasure in getting out of this smuggling compartment. However, I will come to you, assuming I can get to wherever it is you are being held." "We arc quite nearby, within sight of the ship." "Very good. But let us discuss a point or two before I come. My built-in surveillance gear detected the cessation of jamming quite some time ago. It is two hours since I monitored Thrackan Sal-Solo's broadcast. Parenthetically, I must add that none of you were looking your best in that. But in any event, why have you waited until now to call me?'1 "We have been waiting for the Human League troopers to go to sleep. The last of them turned in about an hour ago. It would seem they are now all quite soundly asleep, on board the assault boat." "Why have they not posted a guard? Why are they so lax?17 Ebrihim laughed. "We arc at the bottom of a sheer-sided, kilometers-deep pit; we arc being held inside a force field; and of the two ships available, one is nonfunctional, and the other is full of enemy troops. I expect they simply felt rather secure in their situation." "It could be a trap,'1 said Q9. "They could be trying to lull you into a false sense of security." "They are the ones with a false sense of security. They do not know we have a comlink, and they are unaware of your existence." "Where did you get the comlink?'' Q9 asked suspiciously. 'T did not know that you had one. How do I know you are Ebrihim? How do I know you aren't a Human League agent posing as Ebrihim? How do I know this is not a trap to lure me out of my hiding place?" Q9 could hear the sound of Ebrihim sighing wearily. "Q9, I do believe that you have developed a paranoid streak." "You would develop one too, if your main circuits were shorted out by a maniac child, and you were barely given a chance to double-check your repairs before you were stuck in a dark hole for a day. I have been in an inverted position for all that time, wondering what could happen to me next. I have come up with quite a number of alarming possibilities." ''I see," said Ebrihim, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. "That is most unfortunate. Let me see if I can put your mind somewhat at ease. We did not tell you we had a comlink because we were somewhat pressed for time when we were captured. I myself did not learn that Chewbacca had concealed the comlink on his person until long after we were off the ship. As for the other matter, I am indeed Ebrihim. The receipt of sale shows that I paid twelve hundred and fifty Drallish crowns for you. However, in reality, at the last minute 1 managed to t alk your owners into a discount for cash of a hundred crowns, a detail which I forgot. When I inadvertently reported the higher amount as a deduction on my taxes, you pointed out the discrepancy to ,me and threatened to turn me in if i did not correct it. Ai the time I seriously considered selling you for the eight extra crowns I was forced to pay in taxes as a result. There have been many times when I have regretted my decision to keep you instead. Does that satisfy you?" "I suppose so," Q9 said doubtfully. "Very good then. Now stop acting like a mentally unbalanced victim of paranoid dementia and get the blazes over here as quickly and quietly as you can. Ebrihim out!" "No need to be so irritable about it," Q9 said to himself, knowing full well Ebrihim had shut down his comlink. "I see nothing demented in my effort to insure my own self-preservation." He paused for a moment. "On the other hand, there is something distinctly peculiar about a droid that has started talking to itself. Master Ebrihim may well have a point concerning my mental state. Ah, well." Q9 gently activated his repulsors, so they pushed the camouflaged cover up off the smuggling compartment. He let the cover get about a third of a meter high, and then lowered power to the port side repulsor, causing the lid to slide down to that direction and fall to the deck with a ioud clunk, it was more noise than Q9 would have preferred to have made, but he had little choice in the matter. Q9 extruded a pair of manipulator arms and slowly pushed himself straight up out of the compartment, until his body was completely out of the hole. He rotated his body around on the ball-and-socket joints of the arms until his base was pointed straight down. Then he activated his repulsors again and drew the two arms back into his body. It was a distinct relief to be right side up again, and out of that hole. Q9 floated around the Falcon's circumferential corridor until he came to the access ramp. The ramp was open and down, which saved him the trouble of opening it himself, and saved that much more noise as well. However it did represent lax enough security that Q9 could not help but worry anew that it was all an elaborate trap. But if it was, he had already revealed his position, and he was as good as caught, anyway. He might as well press on. He moved down the ramp and out onto the wide expanses of the repulsor chamber's interior. It was dark, the chamber lit only by the dimmest of starlight. Q9 switched over to infrared, and suddenly the chamber was ablaze with illumination. He moved forward about thirty meters from the Falcon, and then stopped. He spun his upper dome in a complete circle, scanning the interior. As Ebrihim had promised, the prisoners were indeed easy to spot. Six warm bodies inside a force field were a fairly obvious target. Obvious enough that Q9 was not exactly thrilled to be moving toward it. He consoled himself with the notion that he himself was probably a first-rate target in infrared anyway. He completed his scan, and got a good range and bearing on the assault boat as well. Just as well to keep a sensor pointed in that direction. Q9 floated briskly toward the force field containment and came to a stop precisely one meter from its perimeter. "I'm here,11 he said. "Now what do you want?" It was not easy to judge Drallish expressions in infrared, but it would seem that Ebrihirn was glaring at him. "Most beings would find that obvious," he said. "I want you to get us out of here!" "Of course," said Q9. "To pose a rhetorical question, what else would you want?" Q9 rotated his view dome left and then right. "Any suggestions on how I might accomplish that?" "Around the other side," Ebrihim said. "The control panel for the containment is on the children's side of the dome." "Ah. So it is," Q9 said, realizing that he was suddenly feeling quite cheerful. He floated briskly around to the other side of the containment, and saw the control panel on the outside, and the children on the inside, watching him. "Good evening, children," he said, in a most lighhearted tone of voice. "How are all of you this evening?" He bobbled up and down on his repulsor, in rough imitation of a little bow. Anakin regarded him gravely for a moment or two, and then turned to his brother and sister. "Q9 is acting weird," he announced. "Am I?" Q9 asked. "A moment please, while I run a behavioral diagnostic." Q9 activated the appropriate routines and ran them against his action log for the past hour. "You're quite right, young Anakin. I am behaving somewhat erratically. It might well have something to do with being roasted alive and being stuck in a storage bin for hours on end, but that's all as may be. We're all friends here. In any event, rest assured that my actions and reactions are still within acceptable limits. Quite so." "It is one of the flaws of the Q9-series design," Ebrihim said, speaking to the children in a quiet voice from the far side of the vertical wall that divided the co
ntainment. "At times, they do not respond well to periods of extended stress." "But then, who does?" Q9 asked. "He may exhibit fairly drastic mood swings for a time, but he should settle down after a while," Ebrihim said. "We'll just have to deal with him as he is for the time being." "Great," said Jacen. "We're counting on a manic-depressive droid to break us out of here." "And break you out I shall," said Q9. "Just tell me how." He spun his view dome about to check again on the assault boat, and then spun it back, a bit abruptly. "But be quick about it, before the guards have a chance to awaken." "Yeah," said Jacen. "Right. Anakin is the one to ask." "Ah, yes," Q9 said. "Anakin, master of all machines. Just tell me what to do, and I shall do it. So long as pushing the wrong button doesn't drop the planet into the sun, or any such trivial inconvenience." "Q9," said Ebrihim. "You must control yourself. Settle down. It is most important." "My apologies," said Q9. Strange how they were all fussing over him now, when most of the time they barely gave him a moment's notice. That is, when they weren't actively against him. "Interesting," he said. "I already seem to be slipping back into a depressive paranoid phase." "Just-just try and keep your thoughts ordered and balanced," Ebrihim said soothingly. "Anakin, get him started." "Ah, okay," Anakin said. "The control panel's turned away from us, but I think there's a big slot for a sort of metal key right in the middle of it. Can you see it?" "How did you know that was there if you can't see it?" Q9 asked suspiciously. "I saw the other guy using it," Anakin said, glancing toward Jacen a little doubtfully. "It's there, right?" "Yes, it is." "Ebrihim said that sometimes you can use your manipulator arms to pick locks and stuff. Do you think you could pick that one?" Q9 extruded a close-up view cam on the end of a flexible arm. It carried a small illuminator light at its end, right next to the cable. He switched on the illuminator and brought the cam to bear on the lock. He examined it carefully, from several angles, then turned off the illuminator and retracted the close-up cam. "No," he said. "Oh," Anakin said. "That's not good." "Is that it?" Q9 asked. "Can I go now?" "No!" Anakin said. He shut his eyes and extended his hand out toward the control panel. "I can almost do it, but I can't see the controls the way I can see the inside." He shook his head and opened his eyes. "Read me what the labels say. Read me all the buttons and switches." Q9 extruded the close-up cam again and turned on the illuminator to examine the display. "It is a most archaic system of controls," he said. "The first dial is labeled main power select-that's the one with the lock on it. The selector can be set to off, single containment, DOUBLE CONTAINMENT, Or QUAD CONTAINMENT. It is set to double. Below that is a dial marked overall intensity. It is marked off from one to eleven, and is set to eight point five." "Twist that one down as far as it will go," Anakin said. Q9 extruded a manipulator arm and twisted the dial to the left as far as he could. "It will not turn any lower than the'point marked two. I would conjecture that it cannot be turned lower without the key." "Right, right," said Anakin. The boy reached out his hand and probed cautiously at the force field. He seemed to be able to push his hand slowly into it, but only by a few centimeters. "No, no," said Anakin. "Still too strong. Read me the other controls," he said. "There are three dials. The first is lit up. It reads