by John Whitman
boot lashed out and kicked him in the stomach. The Shi'ido stumbled backward as five stormtroopers leaped into the
ship, their blasters drawn. One of the Imperials spoke from behind his armored helmet. "You are all under arrest." A fat Imperial oKcer waddled into the ship behind the troopers. His brown uniform barely held his belly in place. His chubby cheeks were damp and red from Tatooine's heat, but he managed to look threatening as he raised his blaster. "Who are you?" the officer asked. Tash held back a shudder. The Imperials had found them. She tensed, expecting to feel the deadly heat of a blaster bolt at any moment. Hoole slowly rose to his feet. "I am an anthropologist," the Shi'ido explained without giving his name. "These are my... research assistants." It was a bad lie, but the stormtrooper hardly noticed. "Where is Karkas?" "Who?" Hoole asked.
"The criminal," Tash whispered. The stormtrooper heard her. "Affirmative. He was spot- ted at the Koda Spaceport and then vanished. Three ships departed the spaceport at the time of his disappearance. Two of the ships, including this one, were tracked on courses for Tatooine. Now, where is he?" Hoole carefully explained the mistake. They did not know Karkas, and they had certainly not allowed any crimi- nals on board their ship. Tash told the o%cer that she had seen Karkas in the Koda cantina and that the cantina's owner had told her about the mark Karkas left on his vic- tims but that they had not seen him since. Hoole con- cluded, "The fact that our ship left at the same time he disappeared is pure coincidence." The Imperial oKcial seemed to believe him but only after his troopers had thoroughly searched the ship and found no sign of Karkas. "Very well," the officer said. "You are free to go where you wish on Tatooine. But," he said, looking at Tash, "if you spot him again, inform me immediately. Contact the Imperial garrison here and ask for Commander Fuzzel." The officer tried to suck in his round gut as he said, "A good thing for you Karkas was not here. That fugitive has quite a price on his head. When I find him, I intend to make him regret the day he was born. Now, on your way."
Hoole, Zak, and Tash hurried out of the docking bay. Zak cast a nervous glance back over his shoulder. "That was not prime," he said as soon as the Imperials were out of earshot. "We could have ended up in a detention block faster than a Hutt can count credits." "Indeed," Hoole said without turning around. "Fortu- nately for us, Commander Fuzzel was more concerned with finding Karkas than with checking our identification." As they leA the docking bay, they had to pass through another checkpoint. But this one was designed to track peo- ple leaving the planet. An Imperial soldier waved Hoole and the two Arrandas through as they examined the identifi- cation of two departing humans dressed in long brown robes. "Those are the tallest Jawas I've ever seen," Zak said. "They are not Jawas," Hoole said. "They are B'omarr monks. It is strange to see them out and about, let alone leaving the planet. The B'omarr monks usually keep to their chambers to study. Come, we must find transportation into the desert." They tried to rent a landspeeder from a local merchant. "Five hundred credits," the merchant demanded. "What?" Zak and Tash gasped. Hoole glanced back at the Imperial troopers patroling the town. "Very well," he said. "But that's way too high," Tash insisted. "Transports are in high demand," the dealer explained. "The Imperials say there is a lot of criminal activity on
gqtooine these days. They take speeders to use in their searches. Then the locals want speeders to avoid the Impe- rials. Bad news for you, but it keeps me in credits. By the zpy,'' the merchant added, "what is your destination?" Hoole paused. "The palace of Jabba the Hutt." "In that case, the price is double," the merchant said, lowering his voice. "I've lost too many speeders that way. Visitors go out to Jabba's palace... and they are never seen again." It took only three hours to ride from Mos Eisley to Jabba's palace, but the trek seemed much longer under the blaze of Tatooine's two suns. Just when Zak and Tash thought they would faint from the heat, Zak spied an enor- mous castle nestled among the rocks of a dry mountain range. It was the palace of Jabba the Hutt, the most feared gang- ster in the galaxy. Zak and Tash had been here before, but that didn't make them feel any safer. The fortress pulsed with danger. Jabba was as unpredictable as he was powerful. The fact that they had left Jabba's palace unharmed last time meant nothing. Many beings passed through his doors never to be seen again. They were admitted by the sentry droids, and then were stopped brieAy by two Gamorrean guards piglike crea- tures armed with huge axes. As they went on, a Twi'lek appeared out of the darkness. Two wormy tentacles grew out of the back of his head. The Twi'lek had draped the tentacles over his shoulders, and he stroked them thought- fully as he studied the newcomers. "Bib Fortuna," Hoole said, addressing the creature, by its name. "I seek a meeting with Jabba." "You return," Bib Fortuna whispered in a heavy accent. Tash noticed that his teeth were as sharp as fangs. "Perhaps Jabba not so generous with you this time, eh?" "I'll take that chance," Hoole replied. Fortuna let out a hiss from between his sharp teeth. Zak and Tash realized he was laughing. "Follow." Then he turned and walked down the corridor as silently as a wraith. They hurried after Fortuna, who vanished through a round portal. Hoole, Zak, and Tash sped after him. Zak sprinted a little ahead of the others and was about to reach the portal when something scuttled out of the shadows. Zak glanced over to see a giant spider ready to attack!
"Help!" he shouted, leaping backward. But the spider reversed course on spindly legs that made metallic clicks against the stone floor. "Relax, Zak," Tash teased. "It's only a spider-shaped droid." "Yeah," he replied. "But look what it's carrying." Attached to the spider droid's small body was a glass jar filled with yellow-green liquid. Floating in the liquid was a solid mass of grooved gray matter. A brain. "It's a brain spider," Tash said. "Remember? We saw one the last time we were here."
"Yeah, but what are they for?" Zak asked Hoole. "We can discuss them later," Hoole replied. "We are at the throne room." They stepped through the portal and looked down on a scene of utter chaos. Jabba's audience chamber was just as Tash remembered it crowded with aliens from a dozen worlds. There were gangsters, smugglers, thieves, and bounty hunters, all of whom lived in the shadows of the Empire. They hovered around Jabba's throne like dark moons orbiting a massive planet-. Whenever anything illegal happened in the galaxy, Jabba the Hutt was sure to be at the center. Something moved in the shadows nearby, and Zak jumped out of the way, thinking another brain spider had approached. Instead, something far more dangerous stepped into the light. The bounty hunter Boba Fett. Zak stared at the killer's helmet, which hid his face. Their paths had crossed once before, on a planet called Necropolis. "Boba Fett!" Zak gasped. "I I'm Zak Arranda. Re- member me?" The bounty hunter adjusted the blaster cradled in the crook of his arm. Zak stammered, "Y-You saved me from being buried alive." The man behind the mask said nothing. Zak saw his own reAection, twisted and warped, in the face of Boba Fett's helmet. If Fett remembered him, he gave no sign. Without a word, the killer turned and stalked away.
Zak turned back to the center of the audience chamber. There, Jabba was talking to the local symbol of Imperial order and authority, Commander Fuzzel. "He must have left for Jabba's palace right after we did," Tash whispered to Zak. "Silence," Bib Fortuna warned. In the audience chamber, Commander Fuzzel stood be- fore Jabba's throne. "Excellent work, Jabba," Commander Fuzzel was say- jng. "That's the third criminal you've turned in this month. The Empire thanks you." From his platform, Jabba the Hutt rumbled a satisfied laugh. Tash noticed that the sluglike gangster looked bigger than the last time she'd seen him. He was growing fat on bowlfuls of live eels. "I'll take your thanks," the Hutt re- plied, "but I'd rather have the reward money. That criminal had a huge bounty on his head." "You'll get the reward," Commander Fuzzel said. "All three criminals were wanted dead or alive, and I notice you turned them all in dead."
The Hutt grinned. "They're less trouble that way. I'll expect the credits to be in my account by morning. Good- bye, Commander." Zak turned to Hoole and whispered, "What's a gang- ster like Jabba doing turning criminals over to the Em- pire?"
"Quiet," Hoole replied s
oftly. "Listen." "One more thing," Fuzzel said before leaving the audi- ence chamber. "There's a rumor that the killer Karkas is on Tatooine. I want him. I'll pay double." "Double?" Jabba mused. His voice sounded like a rum- bling stomach. The alien crowd watching the conversation also murmured in surprise. "I will put my best people on it," Jabba replied. "Good day." This time the Imperial official took the hint and turned around, carrying his rolls of fat out of Jabba's audience chamber. As he left, Hoole led Zak and Tash before the throne while Bib Fortuna whispered in the Hutt's ear. "Well, well," Jabba growled. "What brings you three back to my doorstep?" "Jabba," Hoole began. Jabba's seedy henchmen leaned forward to listen. So did Zak and Tash. Hoole hadn't told them what he planned to ask. The Shi'ido continued, "Years ago you did me a favor. When I was on the run from the Empire, you managed to erase my name and records from the Imperial networks so that I could continue to move around the galaxy without arousing suspicion." He paused. "I'd like to ask as a favor if you could do that again." The crowd rumbled. Hoole had used the word favor. It was very dangerous to owe a Hutt a favor, because a Hutt always collected. Jabba stared at Hoole, and a broad smile crossed his, slimy face. The Hutt's thick pink tongue slithered out and ran along the edge of his lips.
"This can be done," he gurgled, "for a price. I have a job that requires someone with your particular talents." Tash saw Hoole tense. This was the most dangerous part of the bargain. For years, she knew, Jabba had wanted to get Hoole on his payroll. The Shi'ido's shapechanging powers would make him an excellent spy, or even an assassin. She shook her head slowly. What if Jabba asked for something Hoole could not or would not do? "Relax!" Jabba snorted. "I see the fear even in your stone face, Hoole!" The crime lord waved toward Boba Fett, who had ap- peared near the Hutt's platform. "As you can see, I have all the assassins I need at the moment. No, this task is a little more... scholarly." Jabba thumped his thick tail on the stone platform, and Bib Fortuna slithered forward. Carefully, he held up an an- cient scroll. Both Tash and Zak gasped. They had grown up on computers, datadisks, and holographic projectors, just like their parents and grandparents before them. Paper books were rare treasures, and something as old as a scroll was almost unheard of.
"That has to be as old as the stars," Tash whispered. Hoole looked down at the document without touching it. His eyes had barely skimmed the first few lines before they blazed with interest. "Do you know what this is?" he asked Jabba the Hutt. Jabba shrugged his fat shoulders. "I know it's valuable to the B'omarr monks. I found this scroll along with a dozen others in one of their tunnels. They've been beg- ging to get it back ever since." "Are you going to give it back?" the Shi'ido asked. "Maybe," Jabba gurgled. "But first I want you to trans- late it. Translate this document for me, and I'll erase your names from the Empire's computer banks forever." Tash had known Hoole long enough to read at least a few of his moods. Although his face was stern and motionless, she could tell by the way he leaned slightly forward, never taking his eyes off the scroll, that he wanted the job. "Agreed," Hoole said, after waiting for almost a full minute. "Excellent!" Jabba roared. "It will take a few days to break into the Imperial computer. That should give you time to do your research. Fortuna, show them to their rooms!" The Hutt thumped his fat tail on the stone plat- form, dismissing them. As they left Jabba's throne room, Tash felt dread creep into her stomach, as though they had just made a deal with the dark side. Fortuna showed them to their quarters. Hoole was given his own room, and Zak and Tash shared a small bedcham- ber next door. Without wasting a moment, Jabba's servant then escorted them through one of the many dark hallways in the palace. But unlike the others, this one led down into the cool darkness of Tatooine, far beneath the hot sand on . the surface.
"Who are these B'omarr monks, anyway?" Zak whis- pered in the dark. Tash clicked her tongue. "If you read more, you'd know they're the ones who built this place. This was their for- tress, before Jabba came and took it away from them. Now Jabba lets them live only in the lowest levels of the palace." "I wonder if we'll meet one," her brother said. "Meet now," Bib Fortuna said, stopping suddenly. He seemed eager to get back to the action and intrigue of Jabba's throne room. "I go." Fortuna vanished into the darkness just as another figure appeared. This one was smaller, and dressed in a brown robe and hood. He was about Zak's height, and when he pulled back his hood, they saw the face of a human boy. He looked about a year older than Tash. "Greetings," he said in a friendly voice. "Do you wish to visit the B'omarr monks?" "Yes, we do," Hoole replied. A grin spread across the boy's face. "Great!" he said in a very unmonklike fashion. Then he said more seriously, "I mean, you are welcome. We don't get many visitors here. My name is Brother Beidlo. But you can call me Beidlo. I will be your guide."
Beidlo led them down a long, curving hallway as he gave them a brief history of the B'omarr monks: how they had lived in the palace for years until Jabba arrived. Now the crime lord tolerated them as long as they didn't get in his way. Zak and Tash were fascinated by the things Beidlo
said, but Hoole seemed more interested in studying lines of ancient writing that decorated the hallways. Halfway down the corridor, Hoole stopped. "These markings are quite similar to the writing on... the document I'm translating," he mused. "I must look at it again. Zak, Tash, let's go back." "Oh," Beidlo said, disappointed. "But there's so much more to see." "I wouldn't mind staying," Tash oA'ered, trying to sound as mature as possible. "I mean, it's not often we get a chance for a guided tour. I'm sure it would be good experi- ence." Hoole considered. Tash and Zak could almost see his mind calculating how much trouble they might get into on their own. Finally, he agreed. "But keep an eye on a chrono. I want you back in our chambers by supper- time." With their uncle gone, Zak and Tash picked up the pace of their steps and their questions. Zak couldn't help asking, "Don't the monks want their old homes back?" Beidlo shrugged. "That's one of the things I don't un- derstand yet. The monks don't seem to care. Every time I ask, they just tell me to push all such thoughts from my mind. I guess I'm just not enlightened enough." "How long does it take to become enlightened?" Tash asked. Beidlo shrugged. "It depends on the person. Some
monks advance very quickly, but for most of us, it takes years." "You seem like an awfully young monk," Tash' ob- served. Beidlo nodded. "I'm the newest member of the order." "Is that why you get stuck with the job of greeting tour- ists?" Zak asked. "That's right. The other monks are too busy with their studies," Beidlo said. "But I don't mind. It's nice to see new faces once in a while. This place gets pretty boring." "Sounds like Tash's kind of place," Zak grunted. Then he added, "If you don't like it here, why stay?" Beidlo shrugged. "I don't have anywhere else to go, really. My parents were killed by Sand People, and the B'omarr monks were willing to take me in. Besides, every- thing's not as dry as the desert around here. Come on, I'll show you." Beidlo turned down another passageway. "You'll find this interesting. I'm going to show you the Great Room of the Enlightened."
"So, what do you monks do in the Great Room of the Enlightened, anyway?" Zak asked, half-joking. "Dark, mysterious things7 Secret rituals?" Beidlo chuckled. "Hardly. But we manage to keep busy," he said. "We meditate... and think... and consider... and concentrate. It's a full day! " Zak and Tash followed Beidlo through a wide portal. "Take it from someone who spends every day trying to become one," Beidlo added. "There's absolutely nothing dark, mysterious, or wicked about the B'omarr monks." As he said this, he led his visitors into an enormous room. Shelves lined the walls, but Zak's and Tash's eyes were drawn to a crowd of brown-robed monks standing around a table. As soon as the newcomers entered, the monks whirled around to face them. Angry eyes glared from beneath their hooded cloaks. One of the monks was holding something close to his body. Seeing what it was, Tash and Zak both gasped. In his cupped hands, the monk held the squishy gray blob of a human brain.
The monks came toward them. They glided so smoothly and soundlessly across the floor that they seemed to float like ghosts. They began pushing Zak, Tash, and Beidlo out of the roo
m. Old, wrinkled faces glared at them from beneath the tattered hoods. Beyond them, Tash caught sight of another monk lying on the table. She couldn't see clearly, but she thought the top of his skull had been removed. The monk holding the brain quickly laid the gray blob in a clear plastic tray, then pointed one slime-covered hand at Beidlo and growled, "Out." The monk didn't need to raise his voice. That one raspy word carried all the threat that was needed. One of the monks activated a switch, and a heavy door rolled across the portal. Before it closed, Zak and Tash glimpsed the shelves on the walls. They were lined with jars, and inside each jar was a brain soaking in yellow- green soup. "What's going on?" Zak demanded. "What are they doing to that man?" Beidlo stood with his back to the wall. Even in the un- derground gloom they could see how pale his face had become. He groaned, "Oh, I'm in trouble! They'll never make me a monk now." Tash grabbed Beidlo by the shoulders. "Beidlo, we've got to do something! They killed someone in there!" Beidlo looked up as if suddenly realizing Zak and Tash were still there. "Him? Oh, no, no!" he said quickly. "You don't understand. They're not killing him. They're giving him eternal life." "Right," Zak scoffed. "If that's true, then a co%n's just a permanent home." Beidlo seemed more amused than alarmed. He sighed. "Listen, those monks are pretty old-fashioned. They got angry because I accidentally let outsiders into one of the brain transference ceremonies. But there's another monk I warit you to meet. He'll explain everything." Beidlo started down the hallway. Zak and Tash looked at each other. "What should we do?" Tash wondered aloud. Zak scowled at her. "Don't ask me. You're the one who's all grown up, remember?"
"How could I forget?" Tash retorted. "I've got you here to remind me what a child acts like." She started down the hall after Beidlo, leaving Zak to shake his head. If this was growing up, he wanted no part of it. "Teenagers," he sighed, and hurried to catch up. Zak and Tash followed Beidlo to a wide chamber filled with stone benches and tables. The room was large enough to hold a hundred monks, but the place was empty except for a solitary figure sitting in the corner. "This is the monks' tea room," Beidlo explained. "Most of the B'omarr who aren't at the brain transference ceremony are oA meditating right now, but I knew Grimpen would be here." Before Tash and Zak could respond, the lone monk rose to his feet, threw back his hood, and greeted them with a warm smile. His hair was gray, but his face looked young, and his eyes were bright and clear blue. "Welcome, welcome!" the monk said with a hearty laugh. "It's not often we get strangers in our halls. My name is Brother Grimpen. You can skip the Brother part if you like." Tash laughed. "Thanks. One brother's enough for me, anyway." Zak frowned at her. Tash ignored him and continued, "You're much friend- lier than the other monks we just met." Grimpen nodded sympathetically. "Many of our monks have lost their sense of,politeness. Please forgive them." "Politeness!" Zak said. "I thought those monks would kill us when we went into that Great Room of Enlighten- ment!" Beidlo cast an embarrassed look at the older monk. "It was my fault. I accidentally interrupted a brain transference ceremony." "Oh, that," Grimpen said with a wave of his hand. "Some of the old-timers think everything has to be such a secret. It makes them grumpy. They don't want outsiders getting hold of the B'omarr knowledge." "You don't feel the same way?" Tash asked. Grimpen looked into her eyes. She felt like she would fall into the deep blue of his gaze as he said, "I think knowledge should be for everyone. Wisdom may be found in many places. You, for instance. I sense that you are wise beyond your years." Zak groaned inwardly. Why was this monk trying so hard to compliment Tash? Aloud, Zak said, "What's all this about brain transfer- ence, anyway?" Grimpen explained: "It's part of the B'omarr tradition. We seal ourselves off from distractions so we can concen- trate more on the mysteries of the universe. Over the years, we become more and more enlightened. When we reach a