by John Whitman
certain stage of enlightenment, our brains are transferred out of our bodies into glass jars." "So we saw," Zak said. "And I guess sometimes those glass jars are attached to spider droids?" "Correct," Grimpen said. "This allows the enlightened ones to move around and experience different surroundings while remaining detached from the world. That way, the enlightened can continue to think without distractions like hunger or sleep." "The brain spiders take care of that for them?" Zak askcd, impressed. Grimpen nodded. "The droids keep the brains alive and healthy. Since you and I have bodies, we worry about eat- ing, and sleeping, and getting tired. We get cold and hot. Inside the brain jars, the enlightened monks don't have to worry about any of that." "Can they talk?" Zak asked, curious about the technol-
Grimpen shook- his head. "It's possible to give them electronic voices," he said, "but Jabba the Hutt controls the palace. He grew tired of hearing the enlightened ones try to teach him their lessons, and he ordered all the voice boxes removed. Now, all the enlightened ones can do is think about the ultimate truth of the galaxy." The ultimate truth of the galaxy? Tash was amazed. Sounds like they're looking for the Force. "What is this ultimate truth?" she asked Grimpen. Grimpen smiled knowingly. "Somehow, I think you know already." Tash blushed. "Spending all your time thinking and studying sounds like my idea of a perfect life." "Yeah, perfectly boring," Zak muttered. "Look, Tash, it's time to get going." Grimpen put a gentle hand on Tash's shoulder and held her eyes with his. "Tash, I sense that you have the potential for great enlightenment. You are welcome to visit and study here whenever you wish. There is much we can teach some- one as wise as you." "What a load of bantha fodder," Zak grumbled as he and Tash returned to the upper levels of Jabba's palace. "You're just jealous because he didn't pay any attention to you," Tash replied. "Jealous?" Zak repeated in disbelief. "Jealous because I was ignored by a guy whose goal in life is to have his brain stuck in a jar? You've gone hyper." Tash shrugged. Deep down, she knew Zak had a point the B'omarr monks did have some strange practices. But they were also devoted to knowledge and learning, and that appealed to her. She had always loved reading and study- ing. Besides, she thought, she had already begun to feel the Force. She had even used it once or twice. Maybe studying with Grimpen would help her develop her powers. Tash and Zak reached their quarters to find Hoole stand- ing at a round viewport in his room, staring out onto the hot
desert sand. He hardly noticed when his niece and nephew entered the room. "Uncle Hoole?" Zak asked. "Is something wrong?" Hoole said quietly, "I met with Jabba the Hutt again while you were down below. Apparently, he can't erase our records from the Imperial computers." "Why not?" Zak asked. "Didn't he do it for you once before?" Hoole nodded. "Yes, but that was years ago. Apparently, with so much Rebel activity, the Empire has tiglftened se- curity. Ever since the Rebellion stole the Death Star plans and destroyed the space station, it's become impossible to splice into Imperial databanks." "Then there's nothing he can do," Tash concluded. Hoole let out a small sigh, hardly more than a breath. "He offered to supply us with new names, new identities. He said no one would know they were fakes. We could become completely new people." "New identities?" Tash said, her eyes brightening. "That sounds great. We can be anyone we want to be!" "Prime!" Zak agreed. "It'll be like we're spies." Hoole's frown deepened. After a pause, he said, "We would not be spies. Spies pretend to be other people for a short time. We would actually have to abandon our old selves. Leave our names behind forever. Become totally new individuals." "I could live with that," Tash said.
"I could not," Hoole said. "I may reject Jabba's offer." "What!" Tash and Zak cried together. "Why?" Tash added. "It sounds like the perfect solution." Hoole glowered. "You would not understand." He re- fused to say anything more. The evening and night passed slowly in their quarters. Hoole remained deep in thought. Tash dug a datapad out of her pack and read everything she could find on the B'omarr monks. Zak sat on his bed, wishing the others weren't so deter- mined to be serious. The next day, Hoole rose early to continue his work on the B'omarr 'scrolls. "Until I make my final decision," he explained, "I will continue to work on those scrolls. Be- sides, they are worth studying." He paused meaningfully. "I want you both to understand that this is not a vacation. Jabba has extended his hospitality to us, but this is still a dangerous place. Be careful." The minute he was gone, Tash started toward the tunnels of the B'omarr monks. "Hey!" Zak said. "Uncle Hoole just finished telling us to stay out of trouble." "I'm not getting into trouble," Tash responded. "Be- sides, he also said it was important to study the B'omarr monks." "Important for him, not for you," her brother retorted. But Tash was already gone. Zak caught up with her just as she reached the monks' tea room again. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard to find. The
B'omarr monks were very orderly, and their tunnels were laid out in neat, organized rows. They found Beidlo in the tea room, using an old- fashioned push broom to sweep sand off the Aoor. His face lit up when he saw Zak and Tash. "I'm glad you're back! I'll be done with my chores in half an hour; then I can show you more of the tunnels. There are some excellent caverns, and even a few " "Actually," Tash confessed, "I was just looking for Brother Grimpen." "Oh," Beidlo said. He looked disappointed. "All right. He's down that way." The young monk pointed toward a hallway at the end of the room. "Thanks," Tash said, moving on. "Don't feel bad," Zak said to Beidlo. "She's been do- ing that to me for a couple of days now. I'll talk to you later." He hurried after his sister. "Tash!" Grimpen called out as they moved down the dark tunnel. The monk seemed to step out of the darkness itself. "So good to see you again," Grimpen said to Tash, barely nodding at Zak.
"I had some free time," Tash explained, "and you said we were welcome "
"Of course, of course!" Grimpen said approvingly. "In fact, your timing is perfect. I was just going back to my private rooms to meditate. If you're really interested in the B'omarr ways, it's a perfect chance to learn." "Let's go," Tash said. "Um, Tash," Zak said, grabbing hold of her sleeve. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. What would Uncle Hoole say about us going off with some stranger?" Tash's eyes were like lasers blasting her younger brother. "You're starting to sound like a baby-sitter, and I don't need a baby-sitter, Zak. Besides, Grimpen is a monk. It's not like he's one of Jabba's henchmen." "Exactly right," Grimpen said. Zak gave up with a sigh. The strange thing was the more Tash wanted to be a grown-up, the more she behaved like a child. And the more Zak wanted her to be her old, thirteen- year-old self, the more he sounded like an adult. 8'hy couldn't things just stay the way they were~ he thought as he hurried to catch up. Beyond the tea room, the tunnels became more confusing. Zak found more twists and turns, and he nearly lost sight of Tash and Grimpen twice as they made sharp turns down smaller side tunnels, winding their way deeper into the catacombs of the ancient B'omarr temple. "... There are many stages of spiritual growth," Grimpen was explaining to Tash. "At each stage, there is a test to make sure the monk understands what he has learned." Tash, Zak, and Grimpen passed a pair of monks walking in the opposite direction. Beneath their hoods, the monks scowled at the two Arrandas. Zak had the strange sensation that the angry old monks wanted to see his brain on a shelf. He swallowed.
"What are the tests like?" Tash asked. "Sometimes the tests are very easy, like answering ques- tions or reciting passages from the ancient writings," Grimpen said. Up ahead, Zak and Tash caught sight of a faint light source. "And sometimes the tests are physical, to test how well a monk uses his mind over matter." Grimpen stopped. Before them lay the source of the light they'd seen a moment before. They stood at the edge of a glowing bed of hot coals. Steam rose from the thick layer of fiery rocks, and now and then a rock would crack into smaller burning embers with a loud pop! The bed of coals stretched from wall to wall across the tunnel, and was far too wide to jump across. "What's this?" Tash asked. Grimpen Aashed her a confident smile. "This is your first test, Tash." Tash blinked. "But how ?" "Like this," Grimpen replied. Then, calmly, he stepped onto the blazing coals. Zak winced, but Grimpen
looked as if he were calmly walking across a field of grass. Step by step, he crossed the coal bed as light and flames licked at his ankles, and steam rose up around his face. He reached the other side unharmed. Grimpen stretched out his hand to Tash. "Your turn." Zak grabbed Tash's arm. "You're beyond hyper if you do that." Tash shook her arm free of Zak's hold. "If he did it, I can do it." Grimpen nodded. "All you have to do is believe, Tash. This is your pathway to a whole new life, a whole new way of seeing the galaxy." Tash paused, but only for a moment. Grimpen was offer- ing her what she wanted something that Uncle Hoole and even Zak could not give her. "Don't do it, Tash," Zak warned. "Relax," she replied. She stepped onto the burning coals. As she did, she van- ished into a cloud of steam. And screamed.
"Tash!" Zak cried. He leaped to the edge of the burning coals, reaching through the steam. But Tash's scream hadn't been a cry for help. "It doesn't hurt!" she shouted in excitement. "It's not hot at all!" "Of course not," Grimpen called back. "Once your mind reaches a certain advanced stage, normal sensations like heat and cold no longer mean anything. It's mind over matter." The steam cleared momentarily, and Zak saw his sister step across to the other side of the coal bed. Zak couldn't believe it. He looked down at the coals and saw Tash's footprints clearly in the glowing rock. Wherever her steps had crushed a rock, tiny flames shot up, leaving a fiery trail. "What about me?" Zak called out to Tash. The spider followed him. "All right, I'll go the other way." Zak stepped to the right. So did the brain spider. "What do you want?" he asked it. But the brain spider couldn't answer. Zak frowned. "I'm in no mood to dance with droids, thanks, so I'll be going." He took one step back, and then another. The brain spider followed. As Zak took a few more steps, the creeping brain-carrier matched his movements. When he sped up, the brain spider increased its speed. It had no eyes, but Zak was overcome by the sensation that the brain itself was... staring at him. "This is not prime," he whispered, and turned to run. The brain spider ran after him. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick! "Help!" Zak called out. "Help me!" "Help... help... me..., "his echo called back to him. Where was he? How far had he come? Zak didn't know the answer. But by the sound of its clicking legs, the brain spider was closing in on him. He didn't want to find out what those metal limbs would do if they caught him. A small glowpanel set in the wall ahead revealed a nar-
row opening and a steep staircase. Without slowing, Zak plunged through the doorway and scampered down the stairs. Behind him, he could hear the brain spider slow, then stop. It wasn't following him anymore~ Lit only by a faint glowpanel every dozen meters or so, the stairs spun their way for two hundred steps down into the planet. At the bottom, Zak paused to catch his breath. There was still no sound from the brain spider. He saw a set of gates that led into a wide corridor. The gates were made of thick durasteel bars. "A dungeon?" he muttered. Two voices echoed from down the corridor, breaking the silence. He crept forward. If he wasn't supposed to be here, he didn't want to get caught even if he could explain why he'd run down the stairs. A dozen meters farther on, the corridor met another hall- way, with paths leading left and right. The voices were coming from the left. They were whispering, but Zak was able to catch some of the words. "I can't stand this waitin'," rasped one angry voice. "I'm not used to waitin' for anything." A deeper voice rumbled back, "Be patient. You'll have )'our chance soon enough." Zak was sure the second speaker was Jabba the Hutt. Creeping forward, Zak peeked around the corner. The "allway wasn't well lit, but he clearly saw the bulky figure of the crime lord. Next to him stood a huge human. By the dim light on his face, Zak saw that one of the human's eyes had been nearly crushed. "How soon?" crush-face growled. "This planet's been crawlin' with Imperials ever since those Rebels blasted outta here ten months ago. I didn't come all this way just to get thrown into a detention center." The Hutt said, "You'll have no fear of Imperials. Just wait one more day, Karkas." Earkas? Zak thought. Hadn't the Imperials been looking for someone named Karkas? What was he doing here, and why was Jabba helping him, and not turning him in for the reward? Click-click-click. Zak heard the sound trickle down the staircase behind him. The brain spider had followed him down the stairs. If Jabba and his companion heard the noise, they ignored it. "One more day," Karkas agreed. Click-click Zak looked around for another way out. There was none. "Until then," Jabba said. Zak heard the wet, squishy sound of the Hutt slithering along the stone floor. Just in time, Zak thought. He dashed forward. The voices had come from the left, so he cut to the right and ran as quickly and quietly as he could. Speeding through the gloomy tunnels, Zak finally found an open door. He leaped through the door, hoping to find
another tunnel that would lead him back to the higher levels. Instead, he saw only three thick walls. He had reached a dead end. Zak spun around just in time to see a heavy door slide shut behind him. A small set of polished bars guarded a tiny window in the door. Zak had walked into one of Jabba's prison cells.
And now he was locked inside. "Hey!" Zak yelled. "Let me out! Somebody let me out!" Click-click-click. Zak watched through the bars as the brain spider ap- proached, It shufAed up to the cell door and straightened its legs, raising the brain up to its full height. The brain seemed to be studying Zak through its transparent jar. Zak shuddered. "Well, at least you can't get me," he whispered. "So why don't you get back to your study or your meditation or whatever it is you do." The spider turned and shuf8ed away. Once the spider was gone, Zak filled his lungs with air and shouted as loudly as he could. "Help! Someone help! I'm stuck in here!" He yelled until his voice went hoarse. Then he paused to listen. A voice answered.
"That won't do any good." It came from across the hall. The light was dim, but Zak could just make out another cell across the way, and a pris- oner inside with his face pressed against the barred win- dow. "But I got in here by accident," Zak explained. "I know," said the prisoner. "I saw you. But that won't matter. No one comes down here but the Gamorreans, and they don't speak Basic." "You mean I'm stuck here?" The prisoner nodded. "But it won't be for long. From what I hear, none of the prisoners stay for long." "You mean they go free?" Zak asked. "I didn't say that," the man replied. Zak swallowed. "But when they see me, they'll know there's been a mistake. They'll know I didn't do anything." A grim laugh came from the other cell. "Neither did I. I just came here thinking of joining the B'omarr monks. I thought they'd accept me, too. I even passed some of their tests. One of them said I had great potential. The next thing I knew, Jabba's goons had thrown me in prison." The B'omarr monks. Zak was beginning to get a bad feeling about them. Why were they so secretive? Why had one of their brain spiders chased him? And why had they let this man get thrown into Jabba's dungeon? Zak heaved a ~rustrated sigh. If Tash had been with him, he knew they'd have figured it out together.
As his eyes adjusted to the deep gloom of his cell, Zak looked around his tiny prison. There were no chairs, not even a cot. A skeleton lay on the floor next to the door. One arm had been stretched forward, scratching at the door. The bones were dry and brittle. Whoever the prisoner had been, he had died long ago. By the looks of his untouched bones, the guards seemed to have simply forgotten about him. Looking closer, Zak realized that the prisoner hadn't been scratching at the door, he'd been chipping at the stones with a small knife. The blade was rusted and old now, but it still looked solid. Trying not to touch the old bones, Zak took the knife from the skeleton's hand. Examining the chipped stone where the prisoner had been working, Zak saw the outline of an access panel. "It must control the door mechanism," he said. The poor dead captive had nearly chipped his way into the panel, but he must have grown too weak. Getting a good grip on the knife, Zak went to work. "Hope you don't mind if I finish the job," he said to the skeleton. "It's just that I don't want to end up like you." Zak had nearly broken throug'h to the wiring that con- trolled his cell door. "Hey, what are you doing?" called the voice from across the hall. "Trying to get out of here," Zak replied between blows with the rusty knife. "Almost got it." "Hey!" said the other prisoner. "If you ge
t out, will you free me, too?"