Most peculiar of all, as near as she could tell, the gairk had no teeth.
If they weren't carnivores, then why were they attacking the crossing party? Did they rely on some other less apparent mechanism to catch and devour prey? Certainly, she saw as her mount reared sharply to kick out with both clawed forefeet at a gairk that crossed its path, their mouths were large enough to swallow a human whole. But she saw no biting apparatus, no sharp talons, not even potentially poisonous spines. Yet Kyakhta and Bulgan were treating them as if they were nothing but fang and claw.
Then she heard a yelp. Whirling in her saddle without regard to her own safety, she looked back at Barriss's suubatar. It was still behind her, holding the same position as when they had started to ford the river. There was only one difference.
The animal's embossed saddle was empty.
Barriss surfaced not far away, easily visible in the swirling tide because she was waving with her activated lightsaber. Kyakhta cursed violently. It struck Luminara that the Padawan was being carried downstream faster than the turgid current warranted. She pointed this out to Bulgan.
"It's the gairks!" the despondent Alwari told her. "They're dragging her away!"
Luminara's expression twisted. "Dragging her? With what? They have no hands."
By way of answer, the guide opened his mouth to form a wide, gaping O. Suddenly chilled by more than the river water, Luminara understood.
The instant he'd seen Barriss knocked off her mount and swept downstream, Anakin had gone in after her. He hadn't thought about it. The action was entirely reflexive. He knew that if the circumstances had been reversed, she would now be the one swimming hard to catch up with him. When he saw that she was unaccountably receding away from him, he redoubled his stroke. He was a strong swimmer, having grown fond of the skill when he had been confined indoors during winter months. Before long he was close enough to exchange words.
"You okay?" he called out to her. "How are you, Barriss?"
"Wet," she shot back. "Very-wet."
"Can you swim with me to shore?" Raising a hand, he
pointed to where the others were already beginning to emerge on the far bank.
"I'm afraid I can't," she told him. "This situation sucks." At his look of incomprehension, she gestured downward with her free hand. "I mean literally."
Taking a deep breath, he ducked under the surface. The crystal-clear water offered little in the way of obstruction to his vision. He saw her legs, kicking hard but driving her nowhere. Behind her in the water was a single gairk, mouth agape, gills expanded to the maximum. It was taking in water in a steady stream and expelling it through its gills as it applied suction to drag her steadily downstream. Bursting back to the surface, he gestured reassuringly.
"Hang on. I'll take care of this." Taking another deep breath, he dipped back down and swam straight toward the creature, ignoring her legs in passing.
It did not try to dodge. It didn't have to, since he found himself intercepted in midwater. Looking back, he saw that not one but three of the creatures had taken up positions behind him. No two of the twisted maws were exactly alike, but when the three put their heads together, the differently shaped jaws fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. They were now applying suction to him-in unison. A fourth joined in. He felt himself being drawn inexorably back toward that unified dark maw. It now struck him, as it had Luminara, that they had no teeth. They didn't need them. By joining their jaws together to create greater and greater amounts of suction, they literally inhaled their prey.
The technique was uncomplicated. Jolt travelers off larger, inconsumable crossers like the suubatars, get them in the water, drag them downstream away from help, and then ingest them at leisure. Only, he and Barriss were not helpless grass grazers. The need for air was becoming imperative. Kick as he might, he found himself unable to free himself from the force of that quadruple suction. What was it Obi- Wan had often told him? If you can't defy the storm, go with it.
Turning, he kicked not away from his assailants, but directly toward them. Dark maws yawned expectantly. Lack of oxygen was beginning to blur his vision when he drew close enough to strike out with the lightsaber. As their flesh was parted, the four conjoined gairks separated, and the drag on his body evaporated. With the last remaining oxygen in his lungs, he kicked for the surface, breaking it with a gasp and sucking gratefully at the fresh air. Nearby, he saw Barriss swimming not for the nearby shore, but toward him.
"You all right?" she inquired. She seemed unjustly composed.
"I was coming," he wheezed, wiping water from his face, "to rescue you."
"I appreciate the gesture," she responded courteously while continuing to tread water, "but I was really in no trouble."
Aware that their Masters and the two guides were watching from shore, he forced down the first retort that sprang to mind. "You didn't look like you were in no trouble. You were being pulled downstream."
"I know that. It was just a matter of getting turned around so that I could strike at the gairk." Her eyes bored unflinchingly into his own as she deactivated and resecured her lightsaber. "You could have stayed on your suubatar. Did you hear me yelling for help? Did I ask you to come in after me?"
His reply was curt. "I see. Well, now that I understand you a little better, I promise that you won't have to worry about it happening again." He started to kick toward shore.
She kept pace with him easily. "Don't misunderstand, Ana- kin. It was a gallant gesture, and I appreciate your willingness to risk yourself on my behalf." She chuckled softly, her laugh far more restrained than that of her Master. "Not to mention your willingness to get yourself soaked for me."
Stroking smoothly on his side, he looked down at himself. "I certainly did that, didn't I? You swim well."
She laughed again. "The Force is with me. Race you to shore."
"You're-" Before he could say "on," she had burst forward like an eel. He almost caught up to her, but her hands and feet touched the sandy beach an instant before his own.
Two solemn-faced Jedi were waiting to greet them.
"Well, you two are certainly a pretty sight." Luminara stood with hands on hips. "What happened, Barriss?"
Barriss looked away. "It was my fault. I leaned too far to one side to try to see what was going on up front, lost my balance, and fell. Then something started pulling at my back and clothing, and I found myself being dragged downcurrent. I could see that it was some kind of water creature, but in falling out of the saddle my robes became twisted around me. Wet, I had a difficult time unwrapping them before I could get to my lightsaber."
"Very good, Padawan," conceded Obi-Wan. He turned his attention to the other apprentice. "What's your excuse, Anakin?"
Moving one foot slightly in a nervous gesture his mother would have recognized instantly, the taller Padawan muttered uneasily, "I went in to help her. Once I reached her, I realized she didn't need my help. But I didn't know that at the time." Looking up, he met his Master's gaze. "All I had to go on was the evidence of my senses. They told me she'd been dumped in the water and might need help. I'm sorry if I did something wrong, or violated yet one more unfathomable Jedi rule."
Obi-Wan held his silence and his expression for a long moment-before breaking out into a wide grin. "Not only did you not violate any rules, Padawan-you did exactly what you should have done. You had no way of knowing your colleague's condition. Under such circumstances, to assume that she might need assistance is always the wisest course. Better to be berated by a live friend than absolved by a dead one."
For a moment, Anakin looked uncertain. Compliments from Obi- Wan were as rare as snow-crystal on Tattooine. When he realized that it was meant, and that both Barriss and Luminara were also smiling encouragingly at him, he finally relaxed. Anyway, he did not have much choice. It's hard to stay tense when one is dripping wet. Something about being soaked to the skin, with one's clothes hanging limp as seaweed from sodden limbs, is desperately debilitating to one's
dignity.
"I just wanted to help," he muttered, unaware that had been his mantra since childhood.
"You can help yourself," Obi-Wan told him, "by getting out of those wet clothes and into your spare set." Turning, he regarded the line of waving grass that marched to the edge of the riverbank. "The wind's no warmer here than on the other side, and I'd rather you didn't get sick."
"I'll try not to, Master."
"Good." Obi-Wan stood squinting at the cloudless sky. "We don't have time to waste on illness, no matter how educational the experience."
Stripping off their clothes while their Masters unpacked their small personal kits, Anakin and Barriss dried themselves in the sun. The two guides attended to the patient suubatars and studied the visitors with academic interest.
"Haja," exclaimed Bulgan softly, "just look at them. They have no proper manes. Only a little fur on top of their heads."
"They have no true biting teeth," Kyakhta added. "Only those short, chisel-like white chips."
Bulgan stroked the snout of a resting suubatar. It snuffled appreciatively and pushed its muzzle harder against the guide's ministrating hand. "Look at their fingers. Too short to do any real work. And their toes-utterly useless!"
"And there are too many of them," Kyakhta noted. "Five on each-almost as many as on a suubatar! To look at them, one would think them more closely related to such animals than to thinking beings." He shook his head in an odd, sideways fashion. "One feels sadness for such deficiencies."
Bulgan sniffed through his single nostril. "It may be a good thing. The Highborn of the Borokii cannot help but pity them. The perception of pity is always a good place from which to begin negotiations."
His companion was not so sure. "Either that, or they will see them as abominations against the natural order and give orders to have them killed."
"They had better not try anything like that!" His one good eye blinking, Bulgan waxed indignant. "We owe these visitors, or at least the one called Barriss, for the restored health of our minds."
"Not to mention the fact," Kyakhta added as he rubbed the place where his artificial right arm joined his own flesh, "that if they die prematurely we will not get paid for this journey." Still eyeing the aliens, he wondered whether he and Bulgan might have time enough to dig in the beach for some vaoloi shells. Poached vaoloi would make a wonderful supplement to their supper.
Bulgan grunted and adjusted his eye patch. "I would rather sacrifice all our pay than the life of one friend."
Kyakhta's heavy eyelids closed halfway. "Bulgan, my friend, perhaps Barriss did not complete her Jedi healing on you. Perhaps you would benefit from seeking another treatment."
"It doesn't matter." Giving the suubatar he had been caressing a fond chuck under its sharp chin, Bulgan let the reins dangle down to his hand and started to lead it toward the best grass. "No one on this trip is going to die, anyway. We journey with Jedi Knights."
"That much cannot be disputed." But even as he agreed, Kyakhta thought back to how easily the one called Barriss had been dumped into the water by the aggressive gairk, and found himself wondering just how resilient and tough the aliens he and his friend were guiding were.
"They've left, you know."
Ogomoor relaxed in the chair. It was a fine apartment, ex pensively decorated and furnished. An apartment suitable for a long-term stay by a visiting dignitary. Its present owner poured himself a tall glass of something cold and lavender. Inwardly, Ogomoor shuddered. What perverse desire explained the human affection for iced liquids?
The member of the Unity delegation gestured with the bottle. "Can I offer you a glass? This is a fine vintage, properly fermented."
Ogomoor smiled in the human manner and politely declined. He could feel the chill from the bottle from where he sat.
With a shrug, the human put down the bottle, raised the glass, and drank. Ogomoor felt his insides shudder in sympathy.
"I know they've left. We all know. They've gone to try to make an agreement with the Alwari. What do you think of their chances?"
"I think they're as good as dead already. They've been gone for several days, with no word." He shifted uncomfortably in the human chair that made no allowance for his short tail.
"It's in the nature of Jedi not to open their mouths unless they have something significant to say. Speaking of which," he added as he sat down on the couch opposite, "why are you here?"
"In the interests of expediting a decision that is critical to the future of Ansion. My future. Your future. Every citizen's future."
The human delegate sipped at his drink. "Go on."
Ogomoor leaned forward, feeling relief as his tail popped out from beneath his backside. "The Unity Council was on the verge of voting on whether or not to withdraw from the Republic when these Jedi offworlders arrived."
"I know." The man was not pleased. That, at least, was a good sign, Ogomoor felt. "That's the Senate for you. Always sending in a Jedi or two when their own obtuse directives get ignored. Serves them right. You'd think they would have come to expect it by now."
"These Jedi have nothing to do with Ansion," Ogomoor persisted. "The many peoples of this world, settlers as well as indigenous, have always acted independently and in their own interests."
The delegate raised his glass in mock salute. "Here's to the Republic, of which we're still a part. Sorry, Ogomoor, but our independence only extends so far."
"Not if we secede. Others will join our action."
"Yes." The human sighed. "I've read the fine print in the treaties. They make us more important than we would otherwise be. Hence the attention of the Jedi."
"How were you intending to vote?" Ogomoor did his best not to seem too interested.
His attempt at disinterest did not fool the delegate. "You'd like to know that, wouldn't you? You and your master the Hutt, and his associates in galactic trade."
"Bossban Soergg has many friends, it is true." Ansionian eyes locked on human ones. "Not all are in business."
The delegate's expression, cordial enough up to now, sud denly turned withering. "Are you threatening me, Ogomoor? You and that overweight slug you call a boss?"
"Not at all," the visitor to the apartment replied quickly. "On the contrary, I am here to show my respect, as well as that of my bossban-and his associates. As residents of Ansion, we are all concerned for the future of our world." He smiled again. "Just because a couple of Jedi have arrived here does not mean we should stand around in awed stupefaction."
The human's gaze narrowed. "What are you getting at?"
Ogomoor made a gesture of indifference. "Why should the Unity sit and founder while waiting for the Jedi to return? Suppose, for example, they do not come back from the plains. They have gone to try to influence the Alwari. Suppose the Alwari influence them?"
The human's expression showed that he had not considered this line of reasoning. "If the Jedi don't come back-or come back changed. . You're saying that after talking with the Alwari, they might be persuaded to favor the nomad point of view?"
Ogomoor looked away. "I didn't say that at all. It's only that in the Jedi's absence, there is nothing to prevent the Unity Council from moving forward instead of sitting still. Are we of Ansion nothing more than mewling infants, to sit around and wait on the movements of offworlders-be they Jedi or not?"
Nodding slowly, the human finished the last of his drink in one long, cold swallow. "What would you have me do?"
Ogomoor sniffed through his single, broad nostril. "Call the council back into session. Take the vote. If the Jedi object to the result, let them file a complaint with the Senate. Ansion already has a government-free of outside influences. What could be the harm in taking the vote?"
"That it could be overturned by the Senate."
Ogomoor nodded understandingly. "Votes are harder to overturn once they have been taken. If the Jedi were here, there would be reason not to call for the vote. But-they are not here." He gestured toward the window and, by implic
ation, the plains beyond. "They have gone. By choice."
The delegate was silent for a long moment. When at last he looked back up at his visitor, there was hesitation in his voice. "It won't be an easy thing, what you ask. The Armalat in particular will object, and you know what they can be like."
Ogomoor gestured significantly. "Time overcomes stub bornness. The longer the Jedi remain away from Cuipernam, the greater will be the erosion of confidence in their abilities among the other members of the council. My bossban and his friends are relying on your known powers of persuasion."
"I still-I don't know," the human murmured, clearly wavering.
The Approaching Storm (звёздные войны) Page 12