Kaird, always thinking ahead, his ident.i.ty always hidden within his Kubaz disguise, had been paying the man handsomely for information regarding the state of the crop.

Kaird met the man in a refresher, the door blocked against unwanted company. The air scrubbers were, like so much of the Rimsoo's equipment, only intermittently functional, and so the place smelled very bad.

The news, however, smelled worse.

"It's not unprecedented," the xen.o.botanist said. "Have you ever heard of the ironwithe plants of Bogden ?"

"No."

"Quite fascinating. Nearly as hard as durasteel, and very popular as an export for rooftop gardens on Corus-cant and other Core worlds. Its shoots are the major part of the giant renda bear's diet, and-"Fascinating. Is there a point?"

"Sorry. Well, every few decades there's a planetwide die-off of ironwithe. No one's sure why. It's like there's some sort of plant telepathy that triggers a near-extinction event.

The really amazing thing is that it even affects the ironwithe growth pa.r.s.ecs away, on other worlds. The theory is that there's some kind of quantum entanglement reaction in the DNA that-"Just tell me exactly what it means regarding the bota," Kaird said, resisting the urge to strangle the man. "The plant life here is constantly mutating, and that includes bota. There is a new mutation, and from all appearances, it's planetwide. We don't know why; it could have been triggered by anything. The change seems to be altering the beta's adaptogenic properties."

"Which means ... ?"

"If it continues in this direction-and there seems to be no reason why it won't-within another generation, bota will be, for all intents and purposes, inert. Useless."

Silently, inside his mask, Kaird cursed. How was he supposed to explain this to his vigo?

It was not his fault, he could hardly control what had happened, but vigos had been known to blast messengers bearing bad news before.

"Who else knows of this?"

"Well, except for you and me, n.o.body yet. I haven't made my report to the military. I thought you would want to know first."

"Good. Can you delay this report?"

"Not for long. Botanical stations around the continent run periodic tests. These reports are funneled through my office, and I might be able to sit on them for a week or two, but no more. A few weak batches are not unusual, but something like this will get out." The human shrugged. "People talk."

For a moment, Kaird considered killing the botanist.lt seemed the easiest way to keep this under wraps as long as possible. But-no. Killing him would only guarantee that he would be replaced, and the replacement might ant be .is venal. Better to have the man in charge working for him. Knowledge was, as always, power. Much could be accomplished in a short time with millions, maybe even billions, of credits at stake.

"All right," Kaird said. "There will be a large bonus for you. Keep this information quiet as long as you can."

The human fidgeted nervously. "They'll fire me if they find out." Til get you a better job, making three times as much,"

The botanist stared at him.

"Trust me. I have many useful contacts." Kaird pulled a credit cube frqm his pouch and tossed it to the man. The botanist triggered it. The amount appeared as a red number in the air in front of him. It was equal to his salary for two years.

"Whoa!"

"That, and that much more if you keep the lid on this for two weeks." The man nodded.

Greed shone from his face. "All right." The man left, and Kaird lost no time in vacating the dose, ill-smelling building as well.

As he tromped through the mud back to his quarters-too bad the lovely weather of the past couple of weeks had vanished with the dome's repair-Kaird thought about the situation.

Bota had always been fragile, of course, and it wasn't surprising that the past few weeks of severe local climate change had resulted in a loss of the nearby crop. They'd planned on compensating for this by increasing production from the other fields. Much of the harvest on the Tanla.s.sa continent was shipped through Rimsoo Seven, and with Thula and Squa Tront doctoring the manifests, Black Sun's take would not have been af-fected much.

This could still be accomplished to a degree and it might help keep the problem quiet for a few extra days.

But that was merely a stopgap solution. The only way to salvage this situation was to get as much of the bota encased in carbonite as quickly as possible, and on its way to Black Sun. If the plant shifted from a miracle drug to a useless weed, then however much of it was still potent would become that much more valuable.

When he'd been a youngling, he'd learned from a favorite aunt a trader's story: if you have the only case of a rare, vintage rimble-wine worth a thousand credits a bottle, and you want to maximize your profit, drink all but one of them, and put the last bottle in a secure vault. There were many rich people who would pay a fortune for something that was unique, but who wouldn't bother if there were a dozen, or even fewer, just like it in the whole galaxy. The single bottle would he worth more than the case.

Bota, because of its properties, was already one of the most valuable of drugs. If the possibility of obtaining fresh supplies was gone, what was left would appreciate in value faster than a ship going lightspeed. A rich and seriously ill person would pay a lot to stave off death. How many credits you had didn't mean anything when they stuck your corpse in the recycler.

Kaird considered his options: he could steal a large amount of the bota and try to smuggle it offworld on a military or commercial vessel . . .

No. Too risky. Too many elements he could not control.

He could contact Black Sun-a.s.suming he could get his communicator working. He had been unable to make a connection the last few days, and while that might change, it was also a risk. Once the mutation became known, the military would triple the guards on it, and that would make things worse.

Taking it by force would be impossible, of course. Black Sun was a formidable criminal empire, but its ways were those of the poisoned chalice and the hidden dagger, not the blaster and the lightsaber. All of Black Sun's firepower couldn't match even that of the Republic's done army on Drongar alone.

Kaird reached his kiosk, sealed the entrance, and gratefully stripped off the stifling disguise. He was still reviewing options. He had his agents in place, so the theft itself was doable. But for the escape and transport, he needed a ship-one that was fast enough to outrun pursuit if they discovered the theft before he had enough of a lead.

He'd have to steal one, along with the security codes that would allow it to escape.

His vigo would be unhappy about the situation, Kaird knew. But he also knew that fifty kilograms of still-potent and ever-more-valuable bota would go a long way toward calming him.

He exhaled in relief. Yes. Now that he had a general plan, the specifics would be easier.

He could make it happen. People who stood in the path of Kaird of the Nediji never stayed there for long.

He would contact the Falleen and the Umbaran and set up the theft. Then he would find a suitable ship and set that operation in motion as well.

It felt good to be doing something more active after just standing around as one of The Silent for so long. Kaird was always better in motion than when he was still.

When Den awoke, his head was-not to any great surprise-throbbing like a Benwabulan gong.

He'd com-pletely forgotten to take a dose of hangover-stop before he fell asleep. Seemed he was forgetting a lot of things lately. Next thing you knew, he'd be losing his sense of direction-"Good morn," came a bright female voice.

Den rubbed sleep from his eyes and saw Eyar Marath, standing in his 'fresher, drying off with a towel.

Good morn, indeed . . .

"Your sonic shower is broken," she said, smiling at him. "I had to use the water spray, Might take a little while for the heater to warm it up again, if you want to use it."

Den smiled. So it hadn't been a dream, after all.

Eyar came back into the main room of the kiosk and sat on the edge of the bed. "1 really enjoyed being with you, Den-la," she said, adding the familiar-suffix to his name.

"Yes, indeed," he managed, sitting up to watch her. "Me, too."

"You have wives?" she asked.

"Never had time to get any," he said, waving one hand as if to encompa.s.s the war, his job, everything. "What about you? Husbands?"

"No. I'm still probably a year away from Ready."

They both smiled as she pulled on her boots. "Revoc says we'll be here until the military unlocks the security quarantine. Perhaps we can see each other again?"

"I'd like that."

That they had just met officially yesterday and moved immediately into a relationship was, of course, perfectly normal for Sull.u.s.tans. The old joke was that Sull.u.s.tans seldom got lost, and they could always find the nearest bedroom . . .

Eyar stood, did a quick dewflap wipe, and smiled broadly at Den. "How do I look?"

"Best-looking fern for fifty pa.r.s.ecs," he said.

"Probably the only one," she said, "but I'll take it."

She started to leave. It was about as perfect as it could get, as far as Den was concerned. Nice to know he still had the moves.

Eyar paused at the door, looked back, and smiled. "You remind me of my grandfather-he was such a sweet masc."

Then she was gone, and Den was left with his mouth gaping and his dewflaps sagging. Her grandfather! Could have gone all month without hearing that. . .

22.

Barriss tried to practice her lightsaber drills, but she just couldn't seem to narrow her focus. Her timing was off, her balance, her breathing-everything. Even the simplest sequences felt as if she were encased in a tight-fitting metal sh.e.l.l, barely able to move.

She had found a dry patch of ground, so at least she wasn't standing ankle-deep in mud, but that didn't help much. She relit the blade and started a basic centerline parrying sequence. The ozone smell and power hum of the lightsaber were familiar, but not comforting.

Someone was approaching.

Though no one could walk without making noise in the mud and dead vegetation, the buzzing of the energy blade made it difficult to hear snapping twigs, squishing mud, and other quiet warnings. Fortunately, she didn't need such aids. Barriss shut off the lightsaber, hooked it to her belt, and turned to face Uli.

He grinned at her. "Boo."

She grinned back. "We have to stop meeting this way. Out collecting flare-wings for your mother again?"

"Trying to ... the cold seems to have wiped out all those inside the dome. No luck today.

Y'know, even though it was a pain in the posterior, I kinda miss the snow."

Barriss nodded. She felt the same way. Though it wasn't even midmorning yet, the tropical sun had already laid its hot hands on the camp. Even the osmotic weave of her robe wasn't enough to keep her cool.

"So, what's with your practicing? You seem . . ."

"Stiff? Tight? Unattuned?"

He nodded. "I was gonna go with off your game, but those'II do. It's not your foot, is it?"

"No. That's healed."

He nodded. "Good. Anything I can do to help?"

"Offering me a ma.s.sage, Uli?"

He blushed. She found that charming. Then, abruptly, she decided to talk to him about her problem-in general terms, at least. He was a doctor, and good-hearted. Besides, she had about come to the conclusion that any help now would be better than none. And the boy might have something constructive to say. Out of the mouths of children, and all that . . .

She said, "How much do you know about the Force?"

He. looked somewhat surprised. "Almost nothing," he said. "The few Jedi I've run into haven't talked about it. I mean, I know the medical theories about midi-chlorians being the organelles that somehow generate the connection and all, and I've heard the usual wild stories about it, but as to how it actually works and what it really is-He shrugged.

She nodded. "Actually, the Force may create midi-chlorians, sort of as its conduits into our continuum, rather than the other way around. They're isomorphic on every world that has life. The Force, it appears, truly pervades the galaxy, if not the entire universe.

"But, when all is said and done, the Jedi don't really know how it actually works and what it really is, either, We know how to connect to it, how to channel it, but in a lot of ways we're like primitives standing on the bank of a rushing river. We can put our hands in it, even wade in and try to swim, but we don't know where it comes from-only that it exists, and that it is bound to life and consciousness more deeply than the quantum level."

He nodded slowly, waiting for her to continue.

She was lecturing, she knew, as she might to a cla.s.s of nine-year-olds, but he did seem interested, and it was a roundabout way to approach her problem, even if she didn't make it that far.

"Part of becoming a Jedi Knight is learning how to become better connected to the Force.

Jedi Masters are the best at it-coupled with their wisdom and experience, they are able to do things that Padawans, let alone those with no knowledge of the Force, find miraculous.

It augments our strength, oxygenates our tissues, decreases reaction lag. Once, in Coruscant Park, I saw Master Yoda lift a rock as big as a family-sized electric cart, with what looked like nothing but a simple hand gesture. The results can be great and wonderful."

"But it isn't all good, is it?" he said. "We've talked about that before."

Young, but sharp, Uli was. "It's not all good. Count Dooku was a Jedi who turned to the dark side of the Force. Since the beginning of time there have been others who were tempted by and who gave into the desire for power. Four thousand years ago, Exar Kun, a Sith Lord, somehow destroyed an entire stellar system with his misuse of the Force. One has to constantly be aware of the temptation, and guard against it."

"But you're not the sort of person who would do that," Uli said. "I mean-I would think someone who knew it was wrong and went for it anyway-"

"Ah," Barriss said, "but that's the insidious part.

Those who embrace the dark side don't see themselves as evil. They believe that they are doing the right thing for the right reasons. The dark side warps their thinking, and they come to believe that the end justifies the means, no matter how awful those means might be."

Uli examined a thumbnail. "You're not, uh, by any chance, thinking of going over to this dark side, are you?"

A year ago, a month ago-even a week ago-she would have laughed at this suggestion. Now she just shook her head. "I hope not. But it isn't a path with a sign that says this way lie monsters. It's more like a steep, slippery slope, where a misstep might turn into an unstoppable fall."

There was another pause; then Uli said, "The Jedi have a moral code, right? You're taught the difference between right and wrong?"

"Yes, of course."