“Still in orbit, Gur,” came a reply. “What’s the report?”
“All dead,” Gurion answered bluntly. “All but me. Evazan must have some heavy protection inside there. They were the best.”
After a heavy silence, the voice came again, carrying a tone of sorrow not fully masked. “That’s it, then. You get off there, Gur. Right now. We’ll pick you up.”
“No. Not me,” he said firmly. “I’m going to go inside, get close to him. It’s the only way to be sure of nailing him.”
“By yourself?” said the voice in surprise. “That’s suicide!”
“If it has to be. I don’t care,” Gurion said fiercely. “I mean to get to him, and I think I know how!”
Within the castle, Evazan and guest descended a long spiraling stairway. The deeper they went into the mysterious lower sanctums of the doctor’s lair, the more apologetic the Andoan senator became.
“For my part, there’s never been a question of your integrity,” the alien explained in a voice pitched ever higher by his rising concern. “It’s my Senate colleagues who have been picking up rumors. Some are saying you have the death sentence on ten systems.”
“Twelve, actually,” Evazan said carelessly. “It may be more by now. I haven’t checked.”
“Really?” said the senator, his voice rising a bit more. “And then there have been tales of some of your … ah … medical practices.”
“I won’t deny there’s some truth to them, too,” the doctor admitted. “I don’t apologize for what I’ve done. It was all to a good end.”
They reached the bottom of the stairwell. Evazan unlocked and opened a massive metal door. It creaked back on its hinges, and they both passed through.
Beyond, a single space took up all the huge castle’s basement area. Squat pillars and heavy arches of stone held up the high ceiling. Stretching into the far shadows, bank after bank of large glass cylinders glowed faintly, filled with gold liquid … and something else.
The senator stepped forward, staring in shock. Each cylinder appeared to contain some type of being.
He walked farther forward, looking down a row of creatures floating in amber fluid. There were giant Wookiees and diminutive Jawas, skeletonlike Givins and one-eyed Abbyssins. There were horned humanoids from Devaron and insectlike creatures of the Kibnon race, along with countless other species from planets all across the galaxy.
“Are they … dead?” the senator nervously inquired, peering into the cylinder of a reptilian Arcona who stared back with blank, jewellike eyes.
“Unfortunately,” said Evazan. “Preserved in my special embalming fluid. They’re some of my patients who didn’t survive my surgical attempts to help them. But the medical work I did on them has still been of great value to me.”
The senator looked at the corpses again, more closely. All had been worked upon in a manner that might loosely have been termed “surgical,” though the word “butchery” might better have been applied. Most were mutilated, their bodies slashed open, various limb parts or organs missing. In some cases the beings’ own elements had been replaced with things quite clearly alien.
“I say they’ve helped me,” Evazan went on, walking down a row of his “patients.” “Mostly by showing where my research had reached a dead end”—he cast the senator a ghastly smile—“if you’ll pardon the expression.”
“You experimented on them?” the senator said in horror.
Evazan waved the idea away. “Of course not. I meant to help them through my creative techniques. I intended to give them greater health and longer life. In theory, at least.”
He touched the cylinder holding the eviscerated form of a rodentlike Ranat. “I’ve devoted my whole life to helping others. They’ve called me a madman, a criminal, for my pains. But no one’s understood. I was only using my skills to re-form life in various ways, trying to create something better.” He sighed and looked back to the Aqualish. “But it wasn’t enough.”
The senator looked up and down the long ranks of the doctor’s victims. “Not enough?”
“Physical alteration wasn’t enough.”
The doctor moved on to the next cylinder. Within was a particularly hideous specimen. It was a creature that had been constructed of parts scavenged from dozens of different beings, stitched and stapled together to form a patchwork monstrosity.
“As you see, even cutting and splicing together the best of the galaxy’s body parts couldn’t achieve the effect I wanted.” He lifted a hand to touch the scarred right side of his skull. “No, it was the mind that was the key. That’s why my research took a new direction. Come over here.”
He led the way along the cylinder rows and into a large area in the middle of the room. Here a complex assemblage of electronic equipment towered to the ceiling in a rather precarious way. Its various systems, rigged together with tangled festoons of wire, crackled and sizzled uneasily even with the minimal power input now running through them.
The key feature of this haphazard but high-tech pile was two platforms set with operating tables. Straps clearly meant to restrain subjects added to their sinister look. Above each an odd, sievelike device dangled by a dozen wires from a pivoting boom. More wires connected these to the central machine.
“This is my transfer instrument,” Evazan said proudly. “The main components were modified from advanced Imperial transmogrification units originally intended to alter droid programming. Ponda and I managed to ‘liberate’ this equipment from an Imperial research facility. But I’ve adapted it to use on living beings.”
The senator had been staring with mixed awe and skepticism at the dubious-appearing mass. Now he looked at Evazan in disbelief. “Living beings?”
“Living brains also store their gained knowledge electronically, much like a recording. That record can be altered, erased … or moved. The means to do it is now sitting before you.”
“To what end?”
“To have something no one has ever had before,” said the doctor grandly. “I’m finally on the brink of creating a practical form of immortality!”
The senator’s disbelieving look grew more pronounced. “You are joking, Doctor.”
“No joke at all,” said the other. He moved closer, speaking with sober intensity. “Just think of it! Not even the greatest of the Jedi Masters with all their powers over matter have achieved a real immortality. They may be able to prolong life to some extent, but they still decay and die eventually. My method will transfer the higher levels of a being’s intelligence into a fresh, new body whenever needed, just by the flick of a switch. Think how valuable that would be to the Empire. Their greatest rulers, their finest military minds could live on forever, gathering even more knowledge with each lifetime.”
“I suppose that is something the Empire would pay almost anything for,” said the Aqualish, but with grave misgivings in his tone. “If the thing works.”
“It’ll work,” Evazan said confidently, “and I’ll soon be able to prove it.” He grinned in sardonic delight. “Ironic, isn’t it, that Evazan, the one they’ve called Dr. Death, will be the one to create such eternal life!”
A nearby intercom console beeped an alert to an incoming transmission. Evazan turned to see the face of Ponda Baba appear in its tiny viewscreen as a voice came with some urgency from the speaker.
“Evazan, someone is at our door!”
“Our door?” the doctor repeated.
“At the sea gate below the castle. Says his aqua-speeder just broke down. Wants to call for a lift from here.”
“So he says,” Evazan replied. “Let’s see him.”
Ponda punched at his own console and the picture on the screen shifted to show a view of the sea gate area. A small ocean-going repulsorlift craft sat at the castle’s single dock. At the massive gate stood a most impressive-looking human male.
He was quite large, with a strapping build, as was evidenced by the body-hugging suit he wore. His chiseled features were handsome, and a thatch of blon
d hair waved about his well-formed head.
Evazan gazed with great interest upon the man, then he punched console buttons, bringing Ponda’s image back.
“Let him come up,” he ordered. “But only into the foyer. Keep a watch on him.”
“Are you sure that’s smart, Doc?” Ponda inquired.
“Just do it!” Evazan snapped the intercom off and turned to the senator. “You may get to see more than you’d hoped,” he said excitedly. “Today could be the climax of my research!”
He rushed up from the laboratory, the nonplussed senator following. They entered the castle’s huge entrance hall. In the wall beside its main door was set a control panel with a surveillance screen. Ponda Baba was already there, staring at a view of the room beyond the door.
In a small, bare antechamber to the entrance hall, their blond-haired visitor stood waiting patiently.
Evazan peered over Ponda’s shoulder at the man. His eyes lit with an eager glow.
“This one will be perfect!” he said. “What a piece of incredible luck!”
He reached past Ponda to flick a switch on the panel. From the ceiling light in the anteroom a crimson beam shot down, striking the blond man’s head. He went limp instantly, crumpling to the floor.
“You killed him?” the Andoan senator said, aghast.
“Just stunned him,” the doctor replied. He looked to Ponda. “Help me take him downstairs.”
He took hold of the door handle, but a hairy paw came down on his hand to stop him.
“Hold on, Doc,” came Ponda’s harsh voice. “You’re gonna make the transfer to him, aren’t you?”
“He looks as good as any I’ve ever seen,” Evazan admitted. “Why not?”
“No, Doc,” Ponda barked at him. “Me first!”
Evazan regarded his erstwhile partner. “What do you mean?”
“You promised I’d go first. You promised I’d get a body with a good arm. I brought you to my planet, helped you set this up, kept you alive for just that one thing. You cost me my arm on Tatooine. You owe me. It’s time to pay up.”
“How can I do that, Ponda?” he reasoned. “My perfect subject just showed up at my door. He’s here right now!”
“We’re both lucky then, Doc,” Ponda answered. “You got yours. I’ve got mine.”
Realization dawned in the doctor’s face. As one, both of them turned toward the Aqualish senator.
The senator had listened to their dialogue with growing alarm. As they looked to him, his expression grew taut with horror.
“He’s not young,” Evazan commented critically.
“He’s one of the ruling class, though,” Ponda replied. “I get an arm, and I get power, too.”
“You … you can’t mean what I think,” the senator gasped.
“We do,” said the doctor, pulling out his blaster. “Congratulations. You’ll be helping to make a great step for science.” He gestured with the gun. “Get going, please.”
“You can’t do this!” the senator cried as they marched him downstairs to the lab. “What about your financing? Your protection?”
“I won’t need either anymore,” the doctor replied. “I’ll finally be able to acquire a whole new identity. Be free of this scarred face. I can go out of here safe from bounty hunters, and with a secret that can change the galaxy.”
“That’s what you intended from the start, isn’t it?” the other guessed. “Just to help yourself!”
“What else?” said Evazan, laughing cruelly. He shoved the senator through the doorway into the lab. “Now, go get onto that left table. Quick.”
He and Ponda hustled the hapless senator to the table and strapped him upon its top. Evazan pulled the left-hand boom down closer, and fastened its dangling metal helmet over the dome of the captive’s head.
Ponda swiftly took a place on the other table. Evazan repeated the process of buckling restraints and fitting the other Aqualish with the second weird headpiece. Then he stepped away to a bank of controls.
He pulled levers, rotated dials, and watched readout screens indicating the surge of power. The machine sizzled loudly now, alive with enormous energy. The great pile of its parts shuddered visibly, threatening to tumble down.
As the indicators showed he’d reached maximum power, he threw a red double-handled switch. Blue-white sparks like tiny lightning bolts flickered downward along the wires, into the metal helmets on the two heads. The strapped-down bodies both jerked spasmodically.
Evazan watched a pair of dials right beneath the red switch. As the indicator on the left moved one way, its counterpart on the right moved the other. In only seconds the two needles had buried themselves on opposite sides of their dials.
With a cackle of glee the doctor slapped the power levers to Off. The flickering lights quickly faded, and the crackling of energy died away.
“It’s done! It’s worked!” Evazan chortled, running to the table holding the elder Andoan’s body. “Ponda! I’ve done it!” he said, undoing the straps. “How do you feel?”
But the Aqualish who had once been the senator lay quite still, apparently unconscious.
“It’s okay,” Evazan assured, patting the being. “You’ll be fine soon. Just rest there. I’ve got to see to my own new body!”
He left the laboratory, all but running back up to the main hall. His eyes gleamed with a wild look of nearly overwhelming anticipation. He threw open the door to the anteroom and charged in. His splendid specimen still lay motionless.
He knelt beside the man, gloating over his perfect body. “All I’ve wanted,” he said. “Youth, strength … and an unmarked face! I hope he’s unharmed.”
He put out a hand to lay on the man’s heart.
The hand vanished down through the massive chest as if the flesh had opened to swallow it!
He jerked his hand back, staring in astonishment. “A holoshroud!” he gasped.
His hand shot to grip the butt of his blaster. But the other man sat suddenly upright, swiftly striking out. A fist thrust forward to slam into Evazan’s face. The blow knocked him backward, sprawling at full length, stunned.
Before the doctor could recover, the blond man was on his feet. The image of his large form wavered, faded, and vanished completely, revealing the figure of a thin and hawkfaced man of dark complexion with a black mustache. One hand rested on the belt control for the holographic disguise, the other hand held the grenadelike shape of a powerful thermal detonator. Its thumb guard was already pushed back, and the man’s thumb rested on the detonator button.
“Toss the gun away, Evazan,” the man grated out, “or we’ll both go up together.”
Evazan drew out his blaster gingerly and heaved it far away. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“Gurion’s the name. I’ve been trying to get you for a long, long time. Get on your feet.”
“Pretty smart of you to use that disguise,” Evazan told him, climbing up. “You’d never have gotten in here otherwise.”
“That’s just what I figured. Now, get moving, you butchering monster. Take me to the roof. Some friends’ll be picking us up there.” Gurion gestured meaningfully with the bomb. “I said, move!”
Evazan readily complied. They went into the main entry hall and up a broad staircase.
As they turned the corner on the first landing to start up a second flight, Evazan glanced down to see a shimmering first bit of Rover ooze through a doorway into the hall below. He smiled to himself.
“Look here,” he told his captor, intent on keeping the man’s attention on him, “this is crazy. I’m going to be a very rich man. I don’t know how much bounty you’re after, but I can pay you a lot more.”
“I’m not after bounty,” Gurion shot back. “My family name is Silizzar. Sound familiar?”
Evazan blanched at the name. “I—I may have had a-a patient or two—” he stammered.
Gurion cut him off. “You treated my whole family. For a stomach disorder caused by a poison you gave them as medicine! You g
utted them one by one like so many fish. Seven people! None of them survived. No, I don’t want money for you. This is purely for revenge!”
Several flights higher they reached a small door that opened onto a flat area of the roof. A brisk wind from the sea tugged sharply at their clothes as they came out. The distant lightning flickered eerily on the scene, and the deep growling of the far thunder made a constant, ominous background sound.
Gurion directed Evazan around the roof’s edge, close to the spot where his backpack comlink was secured.
“Just stand there like stone,” Gurion warned. He lifted the bomb. “Remember, if I push this button, we’ve both only got a few seconds to live. I’d rather take you back to stand trial for all the other beings you’ve murdered. But I won’t hesitate to finish it right here!”
“I’m a statue,” Evazan readily agreed.
Gurion fetched his backpack and crouched beside it to take out the comlink’s headset. He kept an eye on the doctor as he spoke into the mouthpiece.
“Mother, it’s Gurion. Do you still copy me?”
“Still here, my friend. What’s happened?”
“I’ve got our baby here, alive. I’m up on the roof. Can you come get us?”
“On our way!” the voice said jubilantly. “Mother out.”
Out of the corner of one eye, Evazan saw the door onto the roof push open. One bulb-tipped stalk poked cautiously out around it, sensing the air ahead.
“There’ll be a shuttle here for us in a few minutes,” said Gurion as he put his comlink headset away.
The doctor took a couple of casual steps around him to get Gurion’s back to the door.
“You’ve really got to listen to me,” Evazan said pleadingly. “I’ve got a secret. Right here. An invention. A very big thing. Too valuable for anyone to turn down.”
“Not for me,” the other said flatly, his hard gaze fixed unwaveringly on his foe.
The shining mass of Rover squeezed through the door. The creature began to slither forward slowly, noiselessly. Flickering lightning glinted from its gelatinous form.
“But with it I can make you live forever,” the doctor argued on. “Real immortality. Everybody wants that.”
Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina Page 32