Star Wars - Black Fleet Crisis - Shield Of Lies

by Michael P. Kube-Mcdowell

  "Or the circle came for them, and took them away."

  Luke glanced out his window at the display on the refueling droid.

  "It's been nineteen years--you may not know her even if she's still

  here."

  "I would know Nori no matter how many years have passed," Akanah said

  fervently. "Wialu said we had the bond of twins. I've never been

  closer to anyone."

  The refueling over, Luke started the repulsorlifts.

  "Well, let's go find out how close we are. North Five, Number

  Twenty-six?"

  "Yes."

  "I think I can find that."

  From city center to city edge, Akanah's anticipation built until it

  bubbled over in nervous smiles and a restless bouncing in her seat.

  But when the bubbleback turned onto North 5, her face went pale, and

  her hand shot out and clutched Luke's wrist tightly. A strangled noise

  was all that escaped her parted lips.

  Luke did not need an explanation--his eyes saw the same thing hers

  did.

  The double row of lowhouses along North 5 ended at Number 22. Where

  Number 24 should have been was an expanse of patchy grass. Beyond it,

  the grass gave way to several lots' worth of bare, yellowish dirt. The

  next even-numbered lowhouse was at the corner of the next intersection,

  Number 38.

  "Well, HI--there's no 'there' there," Luke said, peering over his

  shoulder as he brought the bubbleback to the curb in front of Number

  38.

  Popping the bubble, Akanah jumped out before the landspeeder came to a

  stop. She ran back down the street in a staggered gait, hugging her

  arms to her chest, her gaze darting from one side of the roadway to the

  other.

  Her steps slowed as she neared the lot opposite Number 25. She looked

  frantic and frail standing there, staring at the bare ground and the

  broken outline of a foundation.

  Leaping out of the landspeeder, Luke hurried after Akanah. Before he

  could reach her, her legs buckled under her, and she dropped to her

  knees in the dust-dry rain gutter.

  "No!" she screamed, her anguish stretching the single syllable into a

  wounded howl. "No! It's not fair!"

  "Akanah--" She raised her head and turned her face toward him.

  Her eyes were full of pain, her cheeks streaked with tears. "I'll

  never find them," she whispered hoarsely.

  "What am I going to do, Luke?"

  "You're going to keep looking. All this means is that Nori's not

  here," Luke said, crouching beside her. "You weren't counting on that,

  were you?" But he saw in her eyes that she had been, and what might

  have been a minor disappointment was a bitter blow.

  "Something the matter, folks?" a new voice said from behind.

  Both Luke and Akanah turned their heads quickly to see a stubble-faced

  middle-aged man in blue-black tech coverails approaching them from the

  direction of Number 27. Luke stood as the man neared, and offered

  Akanah a hand to help her up. She remained on her knees and took

  Luke's hand to steady herself instead.

  "Is the lady having a problem?" the man asked again, a hint more

  suspicion in his appraising look. "Do you want to call out to

  Medi-Aid?"

  "No--she's all right. She just had an ugly surprise, that's all," Luke

  said. "We're looking for someone who used to live in Number

  Twenty-six."

  "Ah," the man said with a nod. "Po Reggis--Jiki and I live over in

  Twenty-seven Up. So you didn't know, did you? You must be

  visitors."

  He glanced down the street. "Why, sure you are, and I'm a fool for not

  see-ing--bubbleback's not practical in a working city."

  "Was it the war?" Akanah asked, her voice shaky.

  "The war? No, Teyr was never bombed. Cyclone," Reggis said.

  "Eight--no, nine years ago. Took out eight houses here, then skipped

  and hit another five over at the end of North Three. The committee

  used to talk about rebuilding, but there's no demand--half the houses

  in the city are single-family now, Up and Down. It's all the field

  droids they've brought in---city's slow-dying, if you ask me."

  Luke urged Akanah to her feet. "The people who lived here--" "Kritt

  and Fola. Good folks. Our kids played with their kids, till they all

  moved to ros Noth."

  "Kritt and Fola are in Turos Noth now?" Akanah asked, a spark of hope

  entering her voice.

  The spark was quickly extinguished by Po Reggis.

  "What? No, dead, the whole family. Sorry. Killed by the cyclone. It

  was the supper hour, and the weather radar failed. Fifteen dead on

  this street alone--I knew them all."

  Akanah sagged against Luke. "How long have you lived here?" Luke

  asked.

  Reggis squinted. "Twenty-seven--no, twenty-eight years."

  "The person we're looking for would have moved here nineteen years

  ago," Luke said. "A girl, eleven years old. Akanah?"

  "She was dark-haired. Willowy. Her name was Norika, or Nori."

  "I don't know," Reggis said. "Maybe Jiki remem-bers--did you say the

  name was Rika? Oh, Twenty-six Down. Who was it that lived there

  then?

  Trobe Saar, I think was her name."

  "Yes!" Akanah said eagerly. "You remember her?

  Where did she go? Please tell me she wasn't one of the fifteen--"

  "Sure, I remember little Rika. She was shy as a shadow. Wasn't there

  very long--one season at most.

  The Dormand family moved into Twenty-six Down the spring I transferred

  to Irrigation. I'm sorry--I don't know where they all went. That was

  all a long time ago, you know."

  "Is there anyone else on the street who might know something?" Akanah

  asked, trying desperately to sustain hope.

  "I don't think so," Reggis said slowly. "Jiki and I are the last of

  the old crowd. I guess we're the only ones who could take looking

  across and knowing what happened, what's down there. They just

  collapsed everything into the holes and covered it over with dirt, you

  know--" "Thank you, Po," Luke said. "You've been very kind."

  "Sorry I couldn't be more help. Do you want to talk to Jiki? She'll

  be up from her nap soon."

  "Yes--" Akanah started to say.

  "Thank you, no," Luke said, steering Akanah back toward the landspeeder

  with firm pressure on her arm.

  She looked up at him in puzzlement. "Li--the others-maybe she

  remembers the others--" "We must have the wrong address," Luke said,

  gently pressing that thought into Po Reggis's consciousness.

  "We'll try over on North Three."

  "That's right," said Reggis. "There hasn't been a Twenty-six on this

  block for years."

  "I think I hear Jiki calling you," Luke suggested.

  "Well, I need to get back--Jiki's calling me," Reggis said, retreating

  slowly. "Good luck, now."

  "Thank you."

  Akanah waited until the ag tech disappeared into his house, then turned

  on Luke with fierce indignation.

  "Why did you do that? He might have been able to tell us something

  more!"

  "He already told us enough," Luke said. "Norika lived here for a

  little while, in the underground half of the house, with a woman named

&nbs
p; Trobe Saar. And that structure is still down there--it's just filled

  in. Wouldn't she have left a marker for you here when she left? Can

  you read scribing through the fill?"

  "I--I don't know." She stepped forward, out of the street and onto the

  crumbly yellow dirt. "Maybe, if it's there. Let me try."

  Luke waited and watched as Akanah slowly walked across the buried ruin

  of the lowhouse several times, pausing here, crouching there, reaching

  out to touch a small bit of foundation protruding up from the ground.

  Her expression offered no encouragement, and in time she sighed deeply,

  shook her head, and rejoined him.

  "It's the deaths," she explained glumly as they returned to the

  bubbleback. "The Current is still tangled here. It's as if---as if

  someone made a delicate sand painting, and ten minutes later a

  meteorite fell right in the middle of it. If there was anything here,

  it's gone now."

  "Don't give up," Luke said. "I've been thinking--a society as orderly

  as this one keeps records. Let's find the committee office. I'll bet

  some gray-hair there knows everything about everyone who's ever lived

  in Griann."

  The Recorder of Assignments and Transactions for the Supervisors'

  Committee turned out to be completely hairless--a brand-new fat-bodied

  TT-40 library droid.

  Like all factory-fresh droids, TT-40 was long on formality and short on

  personality, lacking even a nickname.

  They found it busily moving its three spinning data probes from port to

  port in the U-shaped firewall switchboard that surrounded it.

  "We need some information about--" Luke began.

  "In accord with Ordinance Twenty Twenty-five, Privacy of Official

  Records, all requests for current records must be approved by the

  supervisor of your district, or, for nonresidents, by the general

  supervisor," the droid pronounced.

  "That's nice," Luke said under his breath. "Nosy but discreet."

  "--Commercial requests for historical records must be accompanied by a

  completed application and bond guarantee. Individual requests for

  historical records for purposes of personal scholarly or genealogical

  research will be processed at no charge on a time-available basis-"

  "Who--stop right there, Chuckles. That's us," Luke said. "What counts

  as 'historical'?"

  "For income, sales, and employment data, all records one fiscal year or

  older are deemed historical.

  For birth, death, bonding, and dissolution certificates, all records

  one hundred days" "What about census data--names and addresses,

  residences?" Akanah interjected.

  "For biennial census data, all records fifty years--" "Fifty!" Luke

  exclaimed.

  To Luke's surprise, Akanah was unfazed. "Clerk," she said. "I have a

  package to deliver to Po Reggis. Can you tell me his current

  address?"

  The data probes spun. "Po Reggis resides at North Five, Twenty-seven

  Up."

  "Clerk," she said. "I have a package to deliver to Trobe Saar. Can

  you tell me her current address?"

  "Trobe Saar is not in the current city directory."

  "Can you tell me her last known address in Gri-ann?"

  "In revision eighty-one of the city directory, Trobe Saar's address is

  North Five, Twenty-six Down."

  "Are other city directories available?"

  "Yes." One of the data probes seated itself in a new port. "Connected

  to Central Directories."

  "Can you tell me Trobe Saar's last known address on Teyr?"

  "In Revision eighty-nine of the Sodonna city directory, Trobe Saar's

  last known address is Kell Hath, Thirteen."

  "Thank you," she said, taking Luke's arm. "Let's go, Li."

  "Are you sure?"

  "i'm sure."

  Outside the committee office, Luke tried to stop Akanah for an

  explanation, but she could not be headed off until they reached the

  spot where they'd parked the bubbleback.

  "Why are you in such a hurry? We could have tried the children's

  names," Luke said. "Getting Chuckles to look in the city directories

  instead of the census was working like a charm."

  "You can't search the directories with nothing more than the first name

  of a minor," Akanah said, rapping on the landspeeder's dome with her

  knuckles. "Would you open this up, please?"

  Luke complied, and they climbed in together. "I know that because I

  tried, from Cartaros, years ago," she continued as the bubble sealed

  around them. "It's impossible without knowing the family names they

  were using. Are we going to get started, or not?"

  "Started where?"

  "Sodonna, of course."

  "Revision eighty-nine was more than fifteen years ago. And we don't

  know that Norika went with this Trobe Saar, or even if Trobe was part

  of your circle.

  Chances are this is going to be another North Five--a

  disappointment."

  "No," she said. "Not this one."

  "Why are you so sure? An hour ago you thought this was hopeless. And

  this morning you were sure they would never make their home on Teyr.

  Why so upbeat all of a sudden?"

  "Because Kell Plath is a Fallanassi name." She hesitated, then added,

  "It means 'held breath'--an allusion to our meditation exercises.

  Besides," she said, "what other leads do we have?"

  "You've got me there." Luke fumbled in his pocket for the traveler's

  aid card. "All right, where is Sodonna, anyway?"

  The river city of Sodonna was on the far side of Teyr from Griann and

  the Rift, straddling the Noga River at what traditionally was

  considered its upstream limit of navigability. Five hundred years

  earlier, Sodonna had been the gateway to the entire Inner River

  District, with bustling docks and a job for anyone who wanted it.

  Repulsorlift transports had taken the focus of commerce away from the

  river, and in large part from Sodonna as well. The docks were gone,

  and the Noga River now tumbled through the city as an elaborate water

  sculpture of falls, rapids, ponds, and fountains. So donna was the

  smallest Teyr city with a spaceport, and the terminus of the

  single-track River District spur of the Rift Skyway.

  Luke followed the Harvest Flyway to Turos Noth, paying a hefty premium

  for dropping the bubbleback at the Skyrail station there. As night

  closed in, he and Akanah boarded a westbound railtrain and found seats

  in the single car that was programmed to separate from the rest and

  follow the spur to Sodonna.

  But that intersection was hours away in the darkness.

  At Luke's urging, Akanah napped. She was not the only one in the

  nearly full cabin to do so. The ride was smooth, with just a slight

  and soothing side-to-side sway, the cabin lights were dimmed to

  unobtrusiveness, and the individual self-adjusting tour couches cradled

  them comfortably.

  Luke did not dare sleep. Only his consciousness could hold the Li

  Stonn mask in place--there were suggestions in the old records of great

  Jedi Masters who could cast illusions even when sleeping, but neither

  Luke nor any Jedi he knew had attained that level of facility with the

  Force skill known as
alter. And Luke could not risk dropping his mask

  in public---even if he were not recognized as himself, shape-shifters

  and mentalists were so widely assumed to be thieves, spies, and

  brigands that he could expect nearly as much commotion.

  So he sat up awake, watching over Akanah, listening to whispered

  conversations, gently sensing the energies of those around him, looking

  out into the night as distant lights betrayed their swift passage and

  the cities along their route embraced the railtrain with their restless

  energy and then surrendered it back to the darkness.

  He wondered if somewhere out in that darkness the woman Akanah had

  known as Nashira was asleep as well, peacefully or restlessly,

  tranquilly or fearfully. What would my mother think of me?

  he wondered, and it was the first time such a thought had ever

  confronted him.

  The thought perplexed and distracted him. He recalled Akanah's words

  on the night she had appeared "The gift of the Light came from your