Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights 01_ Jedi Twilight - Michael Reaves [64]
The silence was sudden and complete, save for the last few patters of pebbles falling. Then the Twi’lek said to I-Five in a tone of awe, “That ceiling was solid ceramisteel. How did you—?”
The pile of debris, which blocked the whole of the passage, trembled. Then trembled again, more strongly this time.
“I suggest we leave,” I-Five said. “It appears that Arakyd Industries manufactures its droids very well.”
As they rose toward the surface in the turbolift, Den asked, “So how did you bring the ceiling down like that?”
“Ultrasonic vibrations along with the heat from my lasers. Not even ceramisteel can withstand the combination.”
“Okay, that was quick thinking,” Den admitted. “But that picture thingie in the wall—that was a, uh …”
“A decelerated luminescent image.”
“A superfluid,” the Twi’lek added. “Cooled down to near absolute zero, it slows light passing through it to a dead crawl.”
“Correct. It is extremely dense. You might say that each piece is several light-years thick, in a way. A window into the past.”
“So what would’ve happened if you’d bored through that protective glaze?” Den asked.
“An interesting question,” I-Five replied. “I confess my data on supercooled quantum condensates is not as complete as I’d like, but, given the density coefficient and the probable expansion velocity … let’s just say it’s a good thing Rokko acceded to my demands.”
“Are you telling me you could’ve blown up Rokko’s whole underground lair?”
“No,” I-Five replied, imperturbably. “I’m telling you I could have blown up several cubic kilometers of Yaam Sector real estate.”
Den swallowed, suddenly feeling like he had a chunk of supercooled condensate lodged just behind his stomach.
They reached the surface and stepped from the lift tube into a dimly lit, deserted tube station on a side street in the Slums. It was full of trash and broken furniture, and it smelled rank.
“Of course,” I-Five added, “it would have taken my laser approximately three weeks, even at maximum power, to burn through the glaze. Luckily, Rokko wasn’t aware of that.”
While Den was still too stunned to reply, I-Five turned toward the son of his late friend. “Jax,” he said, “I am so glad to finally—”
“There’s no time for this,” Pavan said. He reached over I-Five’s shoulder and flipped the master deactivation switch on the back of the droid’s neck. I-Five froze, the light in his photoreceptors blinking off.
Den stared in outrage. Pavan turned to his companion and said, “They know we’re on the droid’s trail now. We’ve got to find it before they do.”
Laranth nodded, and the two walked away from Den and I-Five without looking back.
Den reactivated his friend. I-Five’s processor powered up again. He stared in disbelief after Pavan.
“Oh, yeah,” Den said to the flabbergasted droid. “He’s definitely warming up to you.”
twenty-four
The Far Ranger was on full auto, following a course previously laid in that was taking Nick away from the Palace and back toward the Yaam Sector. He didn’t feel up to piloting a child’s kiddie cruiser around the yard right now, so he just sat back in the pilot’s seat and stared at the endless cityscape passing below.
His mind felt like it had been punched full of holes—holes that let conscious thoughts drain from it as fast as they popped into existence. Or maybe it was just that the thoughts were too horrible to hold on to for any length of time.
The choice he’d been given was simple. That wasn’t surprising; the big ones always were. He could betray Jax Pavan, lead him into a trap, and have him turned over to Darth Vader—
Or Vader would destroy his ghôsh.
Nick hadn’t believed it at first. Clan Rostu, his tribe, ranged over one of the largest highland plateaus on all of Haruun Kal, following their grasser herds, the great beasts that were