by John Whitman
from his head. He had the face of a healthy, living human-a very sour-looking
human face.
"Uh-oh," Tash whispered.
Zak looked down at the mummy he'd pushed. The rags had slipped off, and
beneath them Zak saw a boy his own age, with a big smile on his face.
Deevee shook his chrome-plated head at Zak. "If you spent more time
paying attention to my social studies lessons, you might have learned that
this is a traditional welcome on Necropolis."
The boy Zak had pushed stood up. "That's right. It's an old tradition. No
one really remembers why we do it."
"I remember," said the sour-faced man. "Our ancestors did this to scare
away the evil spirits that strangers bring. One never knows who might come to
wake the dead."
"Wake the dead?" Zak asked. "Are you serious?"
"That's another one of our old Necropolis superstitions. The old-timers
believe that if proper respect isn't paid, the dead of Necropolis will rise
up." The boy shrugged. "Of course no one believes the old legends anymore
except Pylum here."
He pointed to the man, who stiffened. "I am the Master of Cerements,
Kairn. It is my duty to make sure the old ways are kept alive so that the
ancient Curse of Sycorax does not fall on us."
"What sort of curse?" Zak queried.
Kairn rolled his eyes. "Just a tale-teller's story."
"If you don't believe it, why do you do all this?" Zak asked Kairn.
"Pylum managed to convince our parents that we should learn about the old
traditions, so here I am." Kairn shrugged, then flashed a mischievous grin.
"Besides, it's fun to scare visitors-except when they get violent!"
Kairn and Zak both laughed.
Once Pylum had finished his traditional welcome and made sure that no
"evil spirits" lingered around the visitors, he said they were free to go
where they pleased in Necropolis.
"Except the cemetery," the grim man said. "It is sacred ground."
Hoole told Pylum that they had lost their last star-ship and needed to
buy a new one. They also needed a place to stay for the night. Pylum suggested
that they try the local hostel.
"Come on, I'll take you there," Kairn offered. "Necropolis is a safe
place, but its streets are old and winding, and it's easy to get lost."
The streets of Necropolis were dark, but Kairn's personality was bright
enough to light their way. He laughed and chatted as he guided them through
the twists and curves of the streets.
He explained the history of Necropolis's culture as they walked. "The
legends say that centuries ago, a witch named Sycorax lived in Necropolis. She
claimed to have the power to bring back the dead. The people accused her of
being a fake, and they did something horrible. They killed the witch's son and
told her to bring him back to life."
"That's awful," Tash said, shivering.
"Yes, things weren't as peaceful around here in the old days," Kairn
said.
"Did it work?" Zak asked. He was very interested in the story. "I mean,
was she able to bring her son back from the dead?"
Kairn shook his head. "Instead of bringing her son back, Sycorax died of
a broken heart. She and her son were buried together."
"They were what?" Tash asked.
"They were buried."
"Buried?" Zak repeated. "You still bury people'?"
Kairn blinked. "Of course. Don't your people do that?"
Deevee, always eager to join a conversation about culture, interrupted.
"Oh, quite a few planets inhabited by humans have abandoned that practice," he
began cheerily. "They've opted for more efficient methods of body disposal,
such as cremation or disintegration. In many cultures, Kairn, burial is
considered a bit old-fashioned."
"Not here," Kairn sighed. "My people like the old ways. Necropolitans
have been burying their dead for thousands and thousands of years."
Zak almost didn't want to ask his next question. "Where... Where do you
put them all?" He looked down at his feet, imagining what might be underneath
him at that very moment.
There was a mischievous gleam in Kairn's eye. "In the cemetery. Maybe
I'll show you."
Deevee returned the discussion to its original topic. "You were telling
us about your culture's legend of the witch Sycorax?"
"Right. Just before she died, she cursed the entire planet, saying that
if anyone on Necropolis ever ignored the dead, the dead would rise up to take
revenge. Ever since then, we Necropolitans have been very careful to keep the
dead happy. Believe it or not, the Master of Cerements' only job is to make
sure the old rituals are observed. That's what Pylum does."
"You sound like you don't believe it," said Tash.
Kairn snorted. "Those old stories are for little kids. When people die,
that's it. They don't come back."
Zak, thinking of his parents, whispered, "I suppose not.
"Here we are!" Kairn announced cheerfully.
They had reached the hostel. Like the rest of Necropolis, the outside of
the building was dark and somber. But light streamed through narrow windows on
either side of the door, promising warmth inside, and they could hear voices.
"Great!" Zak said. "Let's get out of the gloom."
"Wait, Zak," Tash warned. "Remember what happened last time we strolled
into a strange building. We had blasters pointed at our heads."
Hoole studied Tash with sudden seriousness. "Is this one of your
feelings, Tash?" the Shi'ido asked.
On D'vouran, Tash had felt a sudden sense of dread come over her. No one
had paid attention-not even Tash herself - - until it was almost too late. She
didn't know how these feelings worked, or what caused them, but obviously
Hoole was starting to take them seriously.
"I'm not sure."
"That was then and this is now," Zak said lightly. "It couldn't happen
again."
He stepped up to the front door, which opened automatically to reveal a
warmly lit room, where a crowd of Necropolitans sat in small groups. Light
from a dozen glowpanels shone on delicately carved tables and polished wood
floors.
It also gleamed on the barrel of a blaster held in the steady hand of a
bounty hunter. It was pointed directly at them.
"My name," the bounty hunter said through an armored helmet, "is Boba
Fett."
Tash recognized the name. She'd read about Boba Fett on the intergalactic
information service known as the HoloNet. Boba Fett was said to be the
greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. They said he could bring anyone in dead
or alive, and he had proved it a hundred times. He had tracked down wanted
criminals from one end of the galaxy to the other. Once he accepted a job, no
one could escape him.
Boba Fett was covered head to toe in armor and weapons. His face was
hidden behind a gleaming metal helmet. His belt and pack bristled with
weaponry that included a blaster rifle, deadly wrist rockets, and a nearly
unbreakable capture cable. But the most terrifying thing about him was his
low, menacing voice, which made Zak think of sliding gravel. Boba Fett spoke
to the crowd.
"Where is Dr. Ev
azan?"
No one spoke. No one moved. Boba Fett was known throughout the galaxy as
a deadly shot, and no one wanted his blaster pointed their way.
"What do we do?" Zak whispered.
"Nothing," Uncle Hoole said calmly. But Zak could see that Hoole was
intrigued by the bounty hunter's presence. "This is not our concern."
Boba Fett spoke so low that his voice was almost a whisper. "I will say
it once more. I tracked a wanted criminal named N'haz Mit to this planet and
killed him. A week later I heard N'haz was walking the streets of Necropolis.
I had to come back and kill him again. I find that strange."
"Maybe he just got the wrong guy the first time," Tash whispered to Zak.
"Maybe," Zak replied, "but do you want to tell him that?"
Boba Fett continued. "My information suggests that Dr. Evazan-the man
they call Dr. Death-is somehow responsible."
Fett held up a small holodisk. When he pressed the button, a nearly life-
size image appeared next to him.
Dr. Evazan was frightening to behold. Half his face was scarred and
mangled, and the other half was turned up in an arrogant sneer. As the
hologram hummed, a recorded voice recited: "Name: Evazan. Also known as Dr.
Death. Wanted for murder, medical malpractice, practicing medicine without a
license, torture, and assault. Posing as a medical doctor, Evazan uses
patients as subjects for unauthorized and often fatal experiments. Currently
has the death sentence on twelve systems, including-"
"Enough." Boba Fett switched off the holodisk, and the gruesome image of
Dr. Evazan vanished. "I want him. Now."
Boba Fett waited.
At first no one spoke. Finally it was Pylum who answered. "You are
mistaken, bounty hunter," he said in a defiant voice. "No scientist is
responsible for this mystery. If you saw a dead man walking, it is not because
this Dr. Evazan is on our planet. It is because the people have forgotten the
old customs. They have abandoned our traditions. They no longer honor those
who have passed away." Pylum glared at the crowd. "And because of that, the
dead are rising!"
CHAPTER 3
"Ridiculous."
That was all Boba Fett said in response to Pylum's declaration.
The other Necropolitans didn't seem to believe Pylum either. A few of
them even hooted and jeered at the Master of Cerements, despite the presence
of the bounty hunter. But Pylum continued.
"You'll see," he said, sweeping his fiery gaze across the crowd in the
hostel. "The dead are angry, and they will have their revenge."
The armored bounty hunter waited, but no one volunteered any information
about Dr. Evazan. Hidden behind his helmet, it was impossible to tell if he
was angry, frustrated, or unconcerned. When no one answered his demand, he
turned and stalked out of the hostel.
"So that was Boba Fett," Zak breathed. "Prime."
Hoole excused himself to begin his search for their new ship.
"I will return shortly," he said. "Do not leave the hostel grounds."
Then, mysterious as always, the Shi'ido slipped out the door.
Zak and Tash spent the rest of the evening at the hostel with their new
friend, Kairn. He and Zak took to each other immediately-they had the same
sense of mischief and humor. Kairn, it turned out, liked to skimboard as much
as Zak did, and they took turns on the hoverboard that Zak kept with him.
Kairn even joined them for dinner at the hostel. When the food was
served, the young Necropolitan scooped some of his dinner into a small bowl
and put it off to the side without eating it.
"Saving some for later?" Zak joked. He had wolfed down his own food and
was about to ask for seconds.
Kairn laughed. "No. It's another old custom. We set aside a portion of
every meal in honor of the dead. For most of us, it's more of a tradition now
than anything we really believe."
While they ate, Kairn told them more stories about Necropolis and its
dark past.
"Lots of legends have built up around the Curse of Sycorax over the
centuries. Pylum says that if you visit the graveyard at midnight, you can ask
the witch to bring your loved ones back." Kairn chuckled. "Everyone laughs at
those stories in the daytime, but I know a few people who more than half
believe it, and some who've even tried it."
"Does it only work on buried people?" Zak asked. Tash, beside him, raised
an eyebrow, but Zak ignored her and went on. "I mean, does the legend only
work on bodies, or could it work on someone who was disintegrated?"
"I don't know. But Pylum says the power of the curse knows no boundaries.
"
Pylum suddenly loomed over them. His eyes were filled with eager light.
"Our ancestors were fools not to believe in the power of Sycorax. We must
believe in the curse of the dead if we are to avoid their mistakes." Pylum
glared at them for so long that Zak started to become uncomfortable. Then,
without a word, the Master of Cerements turned away.
Tash whispered, "He certainly believes what he's saying, doesn't he?"
Kairn smiled nervously. "He's a fanatic. That's why they made him Master
of Cerements."
After dinner Kairn said he had to get home, but he gave Zak a quick wink
and whispered, "My friends and I have something fun planned for later. I'll
see if I can include you."
Zak grinned. He was always ready for fun and adventure.
"So what do you think?" Zak asked Tash after Kairn had gone.
"Think about what?" she replied.
"About these Necropolitans and their beliefs. You know, that the dead
come back."
Tash put down her datapad. "Are you kidding? Zak, that's just a legend.
Even the Necropolitans don't believe it. Don't tell me you do."
Zak looked down at his shoes. "Um, of course not. But wouldn't it be
prime if people really did come back? I mean, if you could see the people
again who-"
"Zak." Tash made her voice as gentle as she could manage. When their
parents died, she'd been devastated and hid herself away in her room. But Zak
had pulled her out of her misery. Now she wondered if he was finally feeling
their loss as much as she had. "Zak, I miss Mom and Dad as much as you do. But
you can't think that just because of an old superstition, they might actually
come back. I know it's hard to think about, but they're gone."
"How do we know?" Zak retorted. Tash could be frustrating. "We weren't
there. I didn't tell you my whole dream last night," he confessed. "When I
saw-When I saw mom, she also asked me something.
She asked, 'Why did you leave us behind?' Tash, it was like we abandoned
them!"
"Stop it, Zak! We didn't abandon them. They were killed by the Empire.
The whole planet was. And as much we hate it, we have to accept that Morn and
Dad are gone. They're not coming back."
But they did come back. That night. As soon as Zak drifted off to sleep.
Zak again found himself in his bed in his room on Alderaan. He turned his
head, and looking out the window, he saw the darkness of space, dotted with
stars.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He heard the sound of someone rapping at th
e transparisteel window.
Zak tried to sit up but couldn't. A great weight pressed down on his
chest, pinning him in place.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A pale figure floated into the window's view. It was his mother again.
Behind her another figure floated: his father, his short hair bobbing in the
vacuum of space. Their dead skin hung from their lifeless bones, but their
mouths moved in a slow, haunting drawl.
"Zak, why did you leave us behind?"
"I didn't," he said hoarsely, "I thought you were dead!"
"You left us behind!"
Tap! Tap!
Their arms banged against the windowpane until it shattered inward with a
crash.
The two ghostly images floated through the opening. Zak struggled to
rise, but he was paralyzed. As they approached, Zak's nostrils filled with the
smell of slowly decaying flesh. The corpses' skin was wrinkled and cracked
from exposure to the icy cold of space. Their eyes were no more than black