Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [48]
“But why did you choose this place?” Callista said.
The Mulako Corporation Quarry sent a homing beacon, and Luke’s guidance computer locked on, shepherding them toward a cavernous opening surrounded by lights—brilliant yellow alternating with deep purple, harsh red, and some that looked black—transmitted for customers whose eyes saw in different portions of the spectrum.
“Close to perihelion,” Luke said, “the comet becomes one of the most exclusive resorts in this sector. The climate heats up, enough of the volatiles evaporate from the ice to form a breathable atmosphere, and people can live inside the snowball. It’s very unusual. I thought you might like it—besides, no one will ever find us here.”
Their yacht passed through the portal, beyond marker lights whose beams shone like lightsabers through the dense mist curling away from the comet’s surface.
“The selling point of this resort is its transience. The Mulako Corporation mines it out each orbit as the comet hooks toward the sun and becomes habitable. They rein-stall the facilities, open it to tourists for a few months, then close down again as the comet gets too close to the sun, where it becomes unstable with too much gas evaporating, new geysers erupting, even a small possiblity that the iceball will split apart from all the mining and tunneling. Then, when the comet races away from the sun and the gases begin to freeze out, there’s another several-month period when the resort is dug out again and reopened. When it finally becomes too cold, the quarry is closed to the public, and the mining company operates for the next hundred years out in deep space, strip-mining the newly deposited layers of ice.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” Callista reached over to clasp Luke’s hand.
They landed in a warmly lit reception area. Oranges and yellows shone into the ever-present mist, and porter droids appeared to unload their luggage. Luke checked in, keying their reservations into an automated terminal, and the droids escorted them into the resort facility.
He and Callista held hands as they followed the baggage droids. Callista looked around, her cropped malt blond hair swaying slightly. She blinked at her surroundings and grinned. The Mulako Corporation’s stylistic logo—the letters MC traced within circles with a long cometary tail shooting out—adorned most of the doors and fixtures.
The cometary resort was filled with water and amazing tropical caverns, far warmer than a ball of ice might have suggested. The frozen walls had been polymerized, showing ice locked behind a molecule-thin impenetrable layer and lit by soothing blue lights. Sections of the wall had been cleared away so that the frozen gases could drift out like humidifiers, sending trails of mist along the floor. Droplets of ultraclean water dribbled along the walls like precious springs. Waterfalls hissed from the ceilings in a diamond curtain that gurgled softly into drains in the floor.
Callista’s face filled with childish wonder. “This is beautiful, Luke. All the water. I love the water.”
“I know,” Luke said. “You’ve told me enough stories about how much you miss your home planet, Chad.”
Callista looked wistful. She had grown up on a waterworld, living with her father and stepmother on a sea ranch, destined to follow in the family business. But her Jedi calling had been stronger, and she had been forced to leave her beautiful oceans … though she still longed for them.
The porter droids led them down gently curving corridors, past doorways of plush suites, until they came to the set of rooms Luke had reserved. Multicolored glow-lamps reflected off the polymerized ice walls, making it seem as if they walked through a rainbow