by Brian Daley
Han disliked the idea of going to the Center even more now, but saw it was vital that Rekkon have help, vital to the survival of Han Solo. If the traitor man-aged to turn in an alarm, chances were that the Falcon would never raise ship again. He made a mental note to bill Jessa and whoever else he could for additional services rendered. He angled around in his seat again. Whore the other people you recruited for Amateur Night?
Driving with only part of his attention, Rekkon re-sponded, My second-in-command is Term, whose cover role is contract laborer. His family controlled large ranges on Kail, independent landowners under the Authority. There was some sort of dispute over land-use rights and stock prices. Several family members vanished when they wouldnt yield to pressure.
Who else?
Atuarre. She is a female of the Trianii, a feline
race. The Trianii had settled a planet on the fringes of Authority space generations before the Corporate Sec-tor was chartered. When the Authority finally annexed the Trianii colony world recently, they met with re-sistance. Atuarres mate disappeared and her cub was taken from her and placed in Authority custody. They must have used some sort of interrogation procedure on the cub, Pakka, for when Atuarre finally managed to rescue him, he could no longer speak. The Author-ity is no respecter of ages or conventions, you see. Atuarre and Pakka eventually made contact with me; her cover here on erron III is that of apprentice agronomist.
The service road, winding through the fields, had met a main artery leading toward the Center. The place was a small city unto itself, handling record keeping, computations, and data flow and retrieval for much of the Corporate Sector. It radiated from an operations complex that rose like a glittering confec-tion from the rolling farmland.
Rekkon, lips pursed in thought, wasnt finished. The last member of our group is Engret, who is scarcely more than a boy, but has a good heart and a kindly temperament. His sister was an outspoken legal scholar, and she too dropped from sight. He was si-lent for a moment. There are others abroad searching for their lost ones, and many more, Im certain, whove been frightened into silence. But perhaps we shall be able to help them, too.
Han half snickered. No way, Rekkon. Im just here as part of a trade-off. Save the old school fight songs until Im clear, got it?
Rekkons face was sculpted in amusement. You only do this sort of thing so that you can become a wealthy man? He eyed Hah up and down and went back to his driving, but added, A callous exterior isnt an uncommon way of protecting ideals, Captain; it hides the idealists from the derision of fools and cowards. But it also iramobilizes them, so that, in try-ing to preserve their ideals, one risks losing them.
What this big, bluff, amiable man had just said car-ried so much of hit and of miss, insult and compliment, that Han didnt take time to unravel it. Tin a guy with a hot ship and places to go, Rekkon, so dont let yourself get carried away with the philosophy.
They entered the Center, maneuvering along wide streets between rearing buildings housing the various offices and storage banks, personnel dormitories and recreational areas, shops and commissaries. The traffic was thickwrobo-hacks, ground-effect cargo lifters, skimmers, Espo cruisers, and innumerable mechani-cals.
Making a final turn, Rekkon entered a subterranean garage and descended more than ten levels. Nosing the skimmer into a vacant spot, he cut the engine and stepped out. Hah and Chewbacca followed as Bollux clambered down. The Weekice and his partner affixed their badges to their chests and vests, respectively.
Rekkon slipped out of his coverails and tool belt and
stuffed both into an equipment locker on the skim-
mers side. That left him attired in long, flowing robes
of bright, geometric patterns. His supervisors badge
was prominent on his broad chest. His feet were shod
in comfortable-looking sandals. Han asked him how hed gotten the skimmer and other equipment.
Not difficult, once Id made a partial penetration of the computer systems. A false job-request form, an altered vehicle-allocation slip-those things were ele-mentary.
Chewbacca took up the tool bag again. Bollux, who hadnt had the chance before, now drew himself up before Rekkon. Jessa has instructed me to place my-self and my autonomous computer module completely at your service.
Thank you-Bollux, isnt it? Your aid will be crit-ical to us. At this, the old droid seemed to straighten with pride. Han saw that Rekkon had found the way to Bolluxs heart, or rather, to his behavioral circuitry matrix.
The Authority had spared no expense on this Cen-ter, and so, rather than to an elevator or shuttle car, it was to a lift chute that Rekkon led them. They stepped into its confluence and, seemingly standing on air, were wafted upward by the chutes field. Two techs drifted into the lift chute on the next level, and con-versation among Hans group stopped. The Wookiee, the two men, and the droid continued to ascend, with others entering or leaving the field, for another minute and more, rising past garage and service levels, the lower bureacratic offices, and at last through the levels where data processing and retrieval operations of one kind and another took place. Most passengers in the chute wore computer techs tunics. Occasiona lly, one would exchange a greeting with Rekkon. Han gath-ered, from the lack of curiosity he and his companions drew, that it wasnt unusual for a supervisor to have tech assistants and droids in tow.
Rekkon eventually tilted himself, to drift into the disembarkation-flow. Han, Chewbacca, and Bollux followed. They found themselves standing in a large gallery. Here, two floors had been combined, the up-per one opening onto a balcony that ran around the gallerys midsection, looking down on the banks of lift and drop chutes.
Rekkon led on, down a hallway of darkly reflective walls, floor, and ceiling. Han caught sight of himself in the tinted mirror of the walls and wondered how he had ever wound up a reckless-eyed predator, contam-inating these antiseptic inner domains of the jugger-naut Authority. What he did know was that he would much rather have been hotting the Falcon along be-tween the stars, unencumbered.
Rekkon stopped at a door and covered its lock face with his palm, then stepped through as the door swished open. The others followed him into a spacious, high-ceilinged chamber, three walls of which were lined with a complex array of computer terminals, systems monitors, access gear, and related equipment. The fourth wall, opposite the door, a single sheet of transparisteel, gave a commanding view of the bounti-ful fields of Orron III from one hundred meters up. Han went over and took a bearing on the spaceport across the gentle rise and fall of the land. Chewbacca, seating himself by the door on a bench that ran the length of the wall there, laid the tool bag down be-tween his long, hairy feet. He watched the chatter and wink of sophisticated technology with only mild curios-ity showing on his face.
Rekkon turned to Bollux. Now, may I see what it is that youve brought me?
Han clucked to himself softly, amazed that anyone should be so palsy-walsy with a mere droid.
Bolluxs plastron opened as the stubby droid pulled his long arms back out of the way. The computer-probes photoreceptor came on. Hil he perked. Im Blue Max.
You certainly are, Rekkon answered in his full, amused bass. If your friend here will release you, well have a look at you, Max.
Bollux said an unhurried, Of course, sir. There were minute clicks from his chest, the withdrawal of connector jacks and retaining pins. Rekkon drew the computer forth without trouble. Max was smaller than a voice-writer; he looked unimposing in Rekkons big hands.
Rekkons laughter rang. If you were much smaller, Blue Max, Id have to throw you back! Whats that mean? Max asked dubiously.
Rekkon crossed to one of several worktables. Nothing. A joke, Max. The table, a thick slab rest-ing on a single service pillar, was studded with outlets, connectors, and complex instrumentation. Along its front edge ran an extremely versatile keyboard.
How would you like to do this, Max? Rekkon asked. I have background and programming data to feed you, information on systems-intrusion. Then Ill
patch you into the main network.
Can you feed it in Forb Basic? Max piped in his high, childish voice, like an eager kid with a new challenge.
That presents no difficulty; I see you have a five-fine input. Rekkon drew a five-fine plug and line from his table and connected it to Maxs side. Then he took a data plaque from his robes and inserted it into an aperture in the table, punching up the proper se-quence on the keyboard. Maxs photoreceptor dark-ened as the little computer gave his complete attention to the input. Several screens in the room came to life, giving high-speed displays of the information Max was ingesting.
Rekkon joined Hah Solo at the window-wall and handed him another plaque, one hed taken from his worktable. Here is the new ships ID for your Waiver. Alter your other documentation accordingly, and you should have no further problem with mandatory-performance profiles within the Corporate Sector.
Han bounced the plaque once or twice on his palm, visualizing enough money to wade through with his pants rolled up, then tucked it away.
The rest of this shouldnt take terribly long, Rek-ken explained. The others in my group are due to show up in short order, and I dont expect someone with Maxs brainpower to find this task too difficult. But Im afraid theres nothing in the way of refresh-ment around here---an oversight of mine.
Han shrugged. Rekkon, I didnt stop off to eat, drink, or observe quaint local ceremonies. If you really want to make me dizzy with delight, just wrap it up here as fast as you can. He glanced around the room, with its perplexing lights and racing equations. Are you honestly a computer expert, or did you get the job on sheer charm?
Rekkon, hands on lapels, gazed out the window. Im a scholar by trade and inclination, Captain. Ive studied a good many schools of the mind and disci-plines of the body, as well as an array of technologies. Ive lost track of my degrees and credentials, but Im more than qualified to run this entire Center, ff thats of any importance. At one point I specialized in organic-inorganic thought interfaces. That notwith-standing, I came here with forged records, playing the part of a supervisor, because I wished to remain in-conspicuous. My only desire is to locate my nephew, and the others.
What makes you think theyre here?
Theyre not. But I believe their whereabouts can be discovered here. And when Max over there has helped me do that, by sifting through the general in-formation here, I shall know where I must go.
You never did get around to mentioning your own lost one, Han reminded him, thinking that he was beginning to sound like Rekkon. The man was infec-tious.
Rekkon paced to the opposite wall, stopping near Chewbacca. Han came after him, watching the man lost in thought. Rekkon took a seat, and Hall did the same. I raised the boy as if he were my son; he was quite young when his parents died. Not long ago, I was hired as instructor at an Authority university on Kalla. It is a place for higher education, mostly for Authority scions, a school rooted in technical educa-tion, commerce, and administration, with minimal stress on the humanities. But there were still some vacancies for a few old crackpots like me, and the pay was more than adequate. As nephew of a university don, the boy was eligible for higher study, and thats where the trouble began. He saw just how oppressive the Authority is, stifling anything that even remotely endangers profit.
My nephew began to speak out and to encourage others to do the same. Rekkon stroked his dense beard as he thought back on it. I advised hun against doing so, although I knew he was right, but he had the convictions of youth, and I had acquired the timidity of age. Many of the students who listened to the boy had parents highly placed in the Authority; his words could not go unnoticed. It was a painful time, for al-though I couldnt ask the boy to ignore his conscience, I feared for him. As an ignoble compromise, I decided to resign my post. But before I could do so, my nephew simply disappeared.
I went to the Security Police, of course. They made an appearance of concern, but it was clear that they had no intention of exerting themselves. I began mak-ing inquiries of my own and heard accounts of other disappearances among those whod inconvenienced the Authority. Im accustomed to looking for patterns; one wasnt long in emerging.
Picking carefully-very carefully, I assure you, Captain!mI gathered a close group of those whod lost someone, and we began a careful penetration of this Center. Word had come to me of the disappear-ance of Jessas father, Dec, as hes called. I ap-proached her, and she agreed to help us.
All of which leaves us sitting here, Hah inter-rupted, but why here?
Rekkon had noticed that the race of characters and
ciphers across lighted screens had stopped. Rising to
return to Max, he answered. The disappearances are
related. The Authority is attempting to remove those
individuals who are most conspicuously against it; it
has decided to interpret any natural, sentient individ-
ualism as an organized threat. I think the Authority
has collected its opponents at some central location
that-
Let me get this straight, Han broke in. You think the Authoritys gone into the wholesale kidnapping business? Rekkon, youve been staring at the lights and dials too long.
The man didnt look offended. I doubt that the fact is generally known, even among Authority officials. Who can say how it happened? Some obscure official draws up a contingency proposal; an idle superior takes it seriously. A motivational study crosses the right desk perhaps, or a cost-benefit analysis becomes the pet project of a highly placed exec. But the germ of it was in the Authority all alongmpower and para-noia. Where no real opposition existed, suspicion sup-plied one.
As he spoke, he paced back to the worktable, un-plugging Max. That stuff was really interesting, the little computer bubbled.
Please show a little less enthusiasm, Rekkon en-treated, taking Max up from the table. You give me the feeling Im contributing to the delinquency of a minor. The computers photoreceptor zeroed in on him as he continued. Do you understand everything Ive shown you?
You bet! Just give me a chance, and Ill prove it. I shall. The main events coming up. Rekkon took Max over to one of the terminals and set him down by it. You have a standard access adapter? In reply, a small lid in the computers side flipped down, and Max extended a short metal appendage. Good, very good. Rekkon moved Max closer to the terminal. Max in-serted his adapter into the disklike receptor there. The receptor and the calibrated dial around it circled around and back as Max accustomed himself to the fine points of the linkup.
Please begin as soon as youre ready, Rekkon bade Max, and took a s eat again between Han and Chewbacca. Hell have to sift through an enormous amount of data, he told the two partners, even though he can use the system itself to help him at his work. There are numerous security blocks; it will take even Blue Max awhile to find the right windows.
The Wooldee growled. Both humans understood the expression of Chewbaecas doubt that the information Rekkon wanted would actually be found in the net-work.
The location as such wont be there, Chewbacca, Rekkon responded. What Max will have to do is find it indirectly, just as you must sometimes turn your eyes away to locate a dim star, finding it out of the corner of your eye. Max will analyze logistical records, supply and patrol ship routings, communications flow patterns and navigational logs, plus a number of other things. Well know where Authority ships have been stopping, and where coded traffic has been heaviest, and how many employees are on payrolls at various installations, and what their job categories are. In time, well find out where the Authority is keeping the mem-bers of what it has come to believe is a far-flung plot against it.
Rekkon got up again to pace the room briskly, clap-ping his hands with sounds like solid-projectile rifle shots. These fools, these execs and their underlings, with their enemies lists and Espo informers, theyre creating just the sort of climate to make their worst fears come real. The prophecy fulfills itself; if we werent talking about life and death here, it would make a grand joke!
Hah was reclining against the wall, watching Rek-kon with a cynical smile. Had the scholar actually thought that people were any different from the Au-thority execs? Well, anybody who let his guard drop or wasted his time on ideals was in for just the same sort of rude shock Rekkon had gotten, Han thought. And that was why Han Solo had gone and would al-ways go free among the stars.
He yawned elaborately. Sure, Rekkon, the Author-ity better watch out. After all, whats it got going for it except a whole Sectors worth of ships, money, man-power, weapons, and equipment? What chance does it have against righteous thoughts and clean hands?
Rekkon turned his hearty smile on Han. But look at yourself, Captain. Jessas communication mentioned a little about you. Just by living your life the way you chose, youve already committed deadly offenses against the Corporate Sector Authority. Oh, I dont look for you to wave a banner of freedom or to mouth platitudes. But if you think the Authoritys the winning side, why arent you playing its game? The Authority wont meet with disaster because it abuses naive schoolboys and idealistic old scholars. But as it in-creasingly hampers intractable, hardheaded individ-ualists such as yourself, it will find its real opposition.
Han sighed. Rekkon, youd better take it easy; youve got me and Chewie confused with somebody else. Were just driving the bus. Were not the Jedi Knights, or Freedoms Sons.
What Rekkons rejoinder would have been became
academic. The door-lock buzzed just then, and a mans
voice at the intercom demanded Rekkon! Open this
doorl
With a cold feeling in his stomach, Han caught the blaster Chewbacca tossed to him as the Wookiee lev-eled his bowcaster at the door.
REKKON interposed himself between Han and Chew-bacca and the door. Kindly put your weapons up, Captam. That is Torre, one of my group. Even if it werent, would it not have been wiser to find out what was happening before preparing to shoot?