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Boba looked at her doubtfully. "Are you sure? How do you know all this stuff?"

"It's my job to know. You'd be surprised what people will say in front of someone our age."

Boba nodded. He thought of how stupid grownups could be, and how oblivious they were of what kids really knew.

Ahead of them the alley branched into a wide street. On the far side of the street loomed an immense structure.

The Arena Citadel. It was big enough to be a mountain, though Boba had never seen a mountain so alive. Throngs of beings were everywhere, along with carts and speeders and swoopbikes, braying banthas and armed guards, who shouted at people to keep moving.

"The main gate's there," said Ygabba. " And the northwest gate is that way."

She pointed to the far side of the arena. "But if you want to find Jabba the Hutt, your best bet would be around back, at the southeast gate. That's where the aristos go."

Boba frowned. "Aristos?"

"You know - rich people. The Hutts have their own private entrance.

Their own private box. Of course, I have no idea how you'll get in," she added loftily.

Boba scowled. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. "Me neither."

Ygabba smiled. The other children crowded behind them, laughing excitedly and hushing one another.

"I have to leave you now," Ygabba said.

She gestured at the children. They nodded. Then, breaking into groups of twos and threes, they ran across the crowded street. In seconds they had all disappeared, like ants into an ant hill.

Only Boba and Ygabba remained.

"Well," Ygabba said. She stuck out a dirty hand.

Boba hesitated. He looked down to see if there was an eye in her palm. There wasn't. He grinned and took her hand.

"Good luck," said Ygabba.

"Thanks," said Boba. "I'll need it."

With a smile, Ygabba turned and began to spring across the road.

Halfway across she stopped.

"Hey - I never asked," she called back to him. "What's your name?"

"Boba," he said. "Boba Fett."

"Boba Fett," the girl repeated. She smiled broadly. "That's a name I'll remember!"

"I sure hope so," said Boba. He slipped the helmet over his head and watched as Ygabba was swallowed by the crowd.

CHAPTER NINE

It was almost dark by the time he found his way to the southeast gate. The arena was vast, nearly a small city in itself. It seemed like Boba was on his own again.

He passed encampments of beggars, and bright-colored tents where gamblers sat and beckoned him to come inside. He saw a troop of fire-talkers, and a trio of Gamorrean guards who took turns bashing each other with a club. Weather-beaten water prospectors pushed their way to the arena, eager to gamble away what little wealth they had. Vendors sold water in small containers.

"Only ten dataries!" one called to Boba. "Cheapest price at the arena! "

"No thanks," muttered Boba. His tongue felt like a rock in his mouth, swollen and dry.

He'd better earn some credits soon. Really soon.

Overhead floated yellow balloon cameras. They

would

broadcast tonight's race to those who could not afford to watch it in person.

Like me, thought Boba.

But he didn't waste time thinking about that. He had a more important mission.

Find Jabba.

He kept walking. Beneath the northwest gate, there was a squadron of heavily armed droids. They were guarding a huge mobile warehouse. Boba wondered if this could be the weapons shipment Libkath had mentioned. If it was, how could a bunch of starved kids ever hope to steal its contents?

Well, he thought, hunger is a good motivator. Just like thirst.

His own stomach growled. Boba tried not to think about food. He hurried past the droids.

Overhead, the sky was quickly growing dark, swirled with purple and deep blue. Tatooine's twin suns hung low upon the horizon, an angry red.

They reminded Boba of Master Libkath's eyes.

There were other eyes watching him, too. Beggars and aliens selling smuggled goods - crystals from k'Farri, Magravian cat-spice, cheap generators.