Now what? he wondered.

Teedle rolled up on her gyroscopic single-wheel platform. "Hey, Doc. What'll it be? The usual?"

"Sure. Keep 'em coming and-" He stopped, staring at one of the windows. Outside the transparisteel there was some kind of chaff falling. Spores? No, these were too big, and there were too many of them. Anyway, they didn't look like spore colonies . . . these were white and flaky, like ash or like . . .

"Snow?"

Teedle said, "That's what it looks like, don't it? And my sensors tell me that the temperature in here is going down faster than an off-duty Ugnaught."

At her words, Jos noticed it himself. Son-of-a-raitch, it was getting colder. A lot colder.

He stood and headed for the door, Teedle rolling along just behind him.

Outside, he looked up. The force-dome, high overhead, was usually transparent, though sometimes a slight crescent of pale bluish ionization was visible after dark. Not this time, though. Instead, the camp glow reflected back from what looked like low, thick clouds.

Sometimes, on a particularly hot and humid day, they would get some condensation under the dome, but nothing like this. The osmotic exchangers were fairly efficient, letting in air and even rain, while keeping out a lot of less desirable things. But for it to be snowing, the temperature differential had to be far outside normal limits, Short of parking a battery of refrigeration units on null-grav sleds up there, he had no idea how it could happen. Zan would have known. Zan had worked for a relative on force-domes when he'd been young.

"Never saw anything like this before," Teedle said, adding that gum-popping sound her vocabulator sometimes made. "Of course, I've only been operational for six weeks, so it's not like I've seen all that much."

Jos walked away from the cantina, toward the OT. The cold was increasing, and the snow continued to drift down. The ground and most of the other exposed surfaces were still too warm to allow it to pile up, but if the temperature kept dropping like this, it wouldn't be long, he estimated, before they would have to start shoveling the stuff.

He remembered hearing or reading somewhere that the dome was in fact a spherical bubble, rather than a hemisphere, with half of it underground. He wondered if that would have any effect on the soil temperature.

Jos shivered. He needed a jacket. Had he even brought one to Drongar? Had anybody? The sticky wet heat that had hit him like a personal insult the moment he'd stepped off the transport had never stopped-it had remained body heat and hotter during the days, maybe three-quarters that at night, and a humidity factor of less than 90 percent was big news.

Even so, the current ambient temperature, in defiance of all the laws of thermodynamics, was fast approaching freezing. He needed a coat, at the very least. A heavy-weather parka would be even better . . .

"Attention, all personnel," came Vaetes's voice over the public address system. "There has been a heat-exchange malfunction of the camp's osmotic force-dome. There is no cause for alarm-the shielding aspect of the dome remains in effect. Technicians are working on the problem and will have it repaired shortly. Until they do, you are advised to don warm clothing or to remain indoors."

Jos stared around him. The flakes were turning to slush and mud upon contact with the still-warm ground-even so, the sight was pretty unbelievable. He'd seen this place in the lowlands practically every day for the past year and a half, and it had looked no different after the move here. Yet it now seemed completely transformed. He wondered what it would look like with the buildings covered with snow, with it piled up in drifts on the roads and against the sides of structures.

Jos couldn't help but smile. Zan would have loved this. Almost a pity things'll be back to normal before it has a chance to acc.u.mulate, he thought. I'd like to get in one good s...o...b..ll fight with someone . . .

"Hey, look at that," he murmured aloud. There'd been less residual heat than he would have thought-the snow was starting to pile up already.

He might get his wish after all.

Barriss stood in the falling snow, which was coming down quite heavily now. It lay piled at least finger-length deep, turning the camp into a glistening white tableau that was quite beautiful. She'd always loved the sightof a snowy landscape. It transformed even the ugly durasteel and plasticast structures of the Rimsoo into something fresh and clean and new. The temperature was near freezing, cold enough for the stuff to keep falling, and, somewhat to her surprise, the ground was now cold enough for it to stick.

Along with her appreciation of the snow, Barriss also felt vindication. That cold draft she had felt, the impossible chilly breeze that had contributed to her accident, had been real. And, she knew, if the force-dome's power had fluctuated at just the right frequency, the resulting pulse could have affected the crystal of her lightsaber.

Such events were rare, but the crystals that powered the center of a force-dome were similar to those at the heart of a lightsaber-though much larger, of course. The energies involved were more powerful, and the arc wave was focused differently to produce a dome instead of a blade. Thus, Barriss reasoned, it was just possible that a warble in the force-dome's more powerful field harmonics generator might have resonated with her weapon's focusing crystals, causing a sympathetic reverberation, just as thunder could sometimes cause the strings of a musical instrument to vibrate. Normaily, the shielding in a lightsaber was proof against such interference-enemies had tried to short-circuit Jedi weapons before. But perhaps one of the dome's crystals had a hidden flaw in it, impossible to spot in a normal inspection, but sufficient to cause the field to pulse just enough to shrink the blade a hair. Or to grow just a hair longer... Barriss felt a relaxation of a tension she hadn't realized she'd been 'holding. Perhaps it was not so, but that at least made more sense than the idea that she had cut her own foot doing a move she should be able to do in her sleep.

The snow continued to fall, and she smiled into it. The colone! had said that this anomaly wouldn't last long, so she planned to enjoy it while it was here.

Sometimes the now was easier to dwell in than other times. This was definitely one of those times.

Robed as one of The Silent, Kaird the Nediji gloried in the cold outside the Recovery Room, watching with something akin to joy as the snow continued to fall lazily upon the camp, adding thickness to the white shroud that now blanketed everything exposed to it.

His career in Black Sun had been long and successful. He was respected, adept, and eventually, did he stay with the organ-ization long enough, could look forward to becoming at least a subvigo, perhaps a full vigo. But when he was on worlds where the cold held sway, the call to return home was always strong. He hadn't felt it here on this tropical pesthole, which had been entirely-until an hour ago-hot, humid, and almost malignantly verdant. But now . . .

It really was amazing. Outside the malfunctioning dome, jungle and swamp still ruled-you could see it just beyond the arc where the dome touched the ground. But here, for the moment at least, the air was crisp and clear, reminding him of the eyrie in which he had been born and raised.

Maybe it was time to go home. He had enough credits stashed away so that he could retire to Nedij and live comfortably, if not opulently, for the rest of his days. Find a few nubile females, build a nest, while away his time as patriarch of a new brood. Build his own family and forget the past that had driven him to leave Nedij in the first place. His flock considered him not of the Nest, but Nedij was a big world. There was room enough for him there somewhere.

The cold and the snow called strongly to Kaird. He had spent decades as an operative of the organization, and his masters would not like him to leave, but it could be allowed under the proper circ.u.mstances. He knew where too many bodies were buried-corpses that he had created on the orders of his superiors. Should he die suddenly, under suspicious circ.u.mstances, he had seen to it that certain information would come to light, and so it was in the best interests of his employers to make sure that he lived a long and healthy life.

The thrill of the hunt, the taking of dangerous prey-yes, he would miss that. But sooner or later, those thrills would be the end of him. Not today, perhaps not for years, but eventually he would be a half step too slow, a heartbeat off in his calculations, and a faster, hungrier opponent would walk away from the field instead of Kaird. He had, on some level, never believed it, but on another, he knew it must be so.

The unexpected snow here was some kind of sign. True, it was caused by a malfunctioning machine, but even so, it meant something. Kaird was sure of it.

Abruptly, he made a decision. Yes, by the Cosmic Egg! After he completed this a.s.signment, which should not take much longer, he would return to Black Sun and figure out a way to tender his resignation. A sufficiently large gift would make his vigo disposed to wave him along. He could go back to his homeworld and enjoy a different kind of life, one in which he tickled downy fledglings and cooed sweet words to his wives instead of killing people and engineering disasters.

It was no less than he deserved.

The beings who had gathered in the cantina were a motley bunch. Jos, unable to find anything remotely resembling a coat, had found a blanket and cut a hole through which he'd put his head-it was makeshift, but it worked reasonably well to keep the cold out. Uli had, of all things, a paraglider jacket, with full seals and gloves. He was the subject of many envious glares. Den Dhur, who had s.p.a.ced long enough to be prepared for any weather, had a shiny thermal polyfab windbreaker that kept much of his body heat in, and he received his share of glares as well. Barriss wore her usual Jedi robes and looked as if she was enjoying the change from tropical to frigid. I-Five, was, of course, unaffected by the chilly air, which was cold enough even in the cantina to allow breath-fog, but still considerably warmer than it was outside.

The cantina was the warmest public building in the camp, due to the place having been double-walled to contain the sounds a typical cantina would produce on a crowded night.

That, combined with the body heat the warm-blooded species within gave off, made the temperature within survivable, if not comfortable.

Many members of the traveling show had also found their way here, and, while they mostly kept to themselves, they seemed friendly enough, particularly after the first few rounds of drinks.

"What did Vaetes say?" Den asked Jos. He took another gulp of some fiery red liquor that he claimed was guaranteed to kick an imbiber's internal thermostat up a notch. Jos was tempted, but the liquid gave off a rank odor that reminded him of a full and long-forgotten laundry hamper.

"He said there should be spare parts on MedStar, and as soon as somebody up there can find them-they seem to have been misplaced-they'll get the regulator rehar-monized and things will go back to normal. Or whatever pa.s.ses for normal around here."

"Never thought I'd say it, but the heat wasn't so bad,"

Uli said.

"Me, I prefer caves," Den said. "Constant eighteen to twenty degrees, plenty of mushrooms, no loud noises, Don't see why everyone doesn't live in 'em."

"Words like dark, gloomy, and depressing come to mind," Jos said.

Teedle rolled silently up. "How ya doin', sentients? Everybody okay on libations? Anything little old me can do for you?"

Everyone in the small group allowed as how they were fine, and Teedle wheeled away to check on the show people.

"Another funny droid. Place is getting thick with them," Den mused.

I-Five said, "I'll let you in on a little secret. All droids have a sense of humor. Which is more than I can say for a lot of bio-sentients."

"The snow was kind of pretty wlien it first started falling," Den said, looking out the window and ignoring I-Five. "But once it got waist-deep-that's knee-deep for you overgrown breeds-it stopped being fun. I never heard of this kind of dome malfunction happening before."

"Of course not," Jos said. "When it comes to original disasters, we set the bar."

"I understand somebody in Central Supply has figured out a way to make battery-powered heaters out of food zip-paks. They produce enough heat to keep a kiosk relatively warm."

This from Uli.

" 'Relatively warm'?" Den said.

"Might keep you from freezing solid in your sleep,"

Barriss said.

"Of course, without food you'll eventually starve," I-Five said.

"Let me guess," Jos said. "And afterward you and Teedle repopulate the planet."

Den shook his head. "Won't be easy."

"E chu ta," I-Five muttered.

"Whoa," Uli said. "Touched a circuit, did he?"

The droid was about to reply, when he suddenly stiffened and c.o.c.ked his head somewhat. It was a posture Jos had seen before.

"Oh, no," Jos said softly.

"I hear it too," Den said. In another moment, the others picked it up as well-the faint drone of faraway medlifters.

"Kark," Jos said. He finished his drink in one swallow. The others hurried to finish theirs as well.

Just then a comm-tech came running into the cantina, obviously very agitated. He slammed into and nearly knocked over one of the crew members of the troupe, a big and burly Trandoshan. The reptiloid's drink sloshed all over him. He ripped out a curse in Dosh that Jos was glad he couldn't understand, grabbed the comm-tech and lifted him off the floor with one hand.

Several people charged over to stop the impending slaughter, but before anything could happen-"There's been an explosion on MedStar!" the comm-tech shouted. "Half the flight decks and most of a storage level just got blown to vac!"

Fear stabbed Jos.

Tolk-!

14.

I here were a few matters that needed to be taken care of before Kaird could begin planning his triumphant return to his homeworld. Foremost among these was making sure that the rogues Thula and Squa Tront were established securely in the linkage that ran from the bota fields ultimately to the cargo holds of the Black Sun freighters, This meant, among other things, that they insinuate themselves into the good graces of Nars Dojah the quartermaster, an old and irascible Twi'lek. Fortunately, Twi'leks were one of the many species that could be easily affected by Falleen pheromones. Unfortunately, Dojali was aware of this, and as a result was enormously suspicious of Thula. During the interview he had gone so far as to insist on wearing a filter-equipped rebreather. All of this Thula related later to Kaird-or, as far as anyone pa.s.sing by their cantina table could see, to Hunandin the Kubaz-with great amus.e.m.e.nt.

"You seem to find this funny," Kaird said in annoyance. "If Dojah does not hire you because of this prejudice, I a.s.sure you, my employers will not be smiling, and neither will I."

"Oh, you'll be smiling in a minute," the Falleen a.s.sured him. "I haven't finished my story."

Kaird leaned back. "Amuse me, then."

"Dojah's researches into Falleen body chemistry are incomplete. I also shed protein a.n.a.logs, which work through skin contact rather than the olfactory organs."

Kaird smiled, and the mask's sensors once again translated it into the Kubaz equivalent, rolling the pendulous snout up like a proboscis. "So-even though he could not smell your scent, you nonetheless had an effect."

"Just so." The Falleen quaffed the rest of her Dark Side Daiquiri. She leaned back, muscles shifting lithely under her finely scaled skin. Kaird could feel his own libido stirring slightly. Amazing-he was probably about as genetically compatible with the reptiloid as he was with bota DNA, but even so ...

He saw her watching him and smiling slightly. Obviously, she didn't need her partner's mind-reading abilities to know what he was thinking. Kaird cleared his throat and turned to the Umbaran. "And you?"

"Not to worry," Tront said in his whispery voice. "I am firmly ensconced as a shipping data processor. The diversion of small amounts of bota looks to be no problem."

"Glad to hear it. Unfortunately, there will be a problem meeting the quota Black Sun requires for this week. The explosion on the MedStar blew out one of the storage compartments that had been consigned for our purpose, and we lost a sizable shipment of carbon-frozen contraband. In addition, as you are both no doubt aware, the extreme temperature fluctuation has decimated much of the local crop base. We will need another two hundred kilograms of processed material in the next three days. Fortunately, the harvests from Rimsoos Six, Nine, and Fourteen are usually routed through here for shipment." Trent's eyes widened slightly. "This is a considerable amount to be shifted without notice, particularly so early in the game." He gestured at the window and the steadily falling snow. "This bizarre dome malfunction makes things even more difficult."

"Agreed," Kaird said. "Nevertheless, such is our state of affairs. What with the a.s.sa.s.sination of the last agent sent here, and the current aggressive Separatist tactics to advance and encompa.s.s the fields, my superiors are growing nervous. This is a volatile situation, and I've been told to make every effort to maximize profits while still possible."

Tront frowned. "Do you know the fable of the Crystalline Kahlyt, Hunandin?"

Kaird shook his head.

"A popular parable on M'haeli. A farmer comes across a kahlyt-an inoffensive oviparous creature-that has the miraculous ability to lay rubat crystals in the form of eggs, once every moon cycle. The farmer sells the crystals and begins to acc.u.mulate wealth. But his wife is impatient. She doesn't want to wait for riches, so she kills the kahlyt and cuts it open to remove all the crystals at once."

Kaird made an impatient gesture. "And . . . ?"

"And she finds only the innards of an ordinary kahlyt-no crystals at all." Tront delicately sipped his drink. "Perhaps your superiors have not heard this tale, friend Hunandin. It is not a wise thing to kill the kahlyt that lays the rubat crystals."

"Perhaps not," Kaird replied. "But it is also not particularly wise to yank on a nexu's tail, which is tantamount to telling the new underlord 'No.'"

Thula shifted uncomfortably. "I have heard stories of the underlord's temperament." She glanced at Tront, then shrugged. "Squa and I will make it happen." - "Excellent." Kaird rose, dropped a couple of credits on the table, and left the cantina.

He strode across the snow-blanketed compound, thinking. For their sake, Thula and Tront had better meet the smuggling quota. Now that Kaird had determined to quit Black Sun and return to Nedij, he was impatient with anything that smacked of hesitation or obstruction.

The sooner he raised ship and left Drongar behind forever, the better.

And may the Cosmic Egg crack for anyone who got in his way.

I-Five had managed to rig enough of the battery-powered heaters in the operating theater so that at least the patients' blood wasn't freezing anymore. A small AG droid had been reprogrammed and dispatched to the roof, to plane the snow down to a level where it wouldn't cave in the thin structure and bury everybody. The droid had been instructed to leave a few centimeters of the white stuff in place, to act, oddly enough, as insulation.

Jos cut and stapled and glued wounded troopers, but it was as mechanical as the droid above shoveling snow from the roof. Tolk had not commed him, and his gut was twisted in fear.

Vaetes had come in himself, to relay as much as he knew about the explosion on MedStar-which wasn't much. Nothing was certain, but the colonel pa.s.sed along what news there was in a terse recital as Jos operated: "A seal blew on one of the external ports-possibly a micrometeor impact, though how it got through the shields is unknown. The blowout caused a short-circuit in the ship's electrical system. The system monitor shut down the power grid, but somehow a container of volatile chemical spilled, and the vapor from that ignited, setting off other flammable material in the supply hold. There was a secondary explosion, which blew the in-tegrity.

Automatics sealed off the section, but there are at least a dozen dead."

Jos's throat was dry. "Tolk?"

Vaetes had shaken his head. "I don't know, Jos. The ship's comm is on emergency status, they aren't letting any calls in or out until they lock things down. I got the mortality figure from the pilot of a transport-that's how many bodies he counted in s.p.a.ce outside the hull rupture. No report of the onboard casualties yet. As soon as I hear anything more ...".

"Yeah. Thanks."

The sterile field had a heater, almost never used on this world, but the surgical droid a.s.sisting Jos had cranked the field up to maximum, so at least his hands were warm.