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By Root 261 0

were capable of the posture, but since they never got tired, there was no real reason for it. But I-Five was sitting there, albeit somewhat stiffly. His photoreceptors were trained at the plasticast tabletop. Even though there was no expression in the metal mask of a face, Den got a distinct feeling of melancholy from the droid.

On impulse, he pulled up a chair, sat down across from I-Five, and raised a by-now-well-practiced finger to the cantina’s tender. "We don’t see too many droids in here," he said to his companion.

"At these prices, I’m not surprised."

Den’s eyebrows went up. This was something un-usual-a droid with a sense of humor. The tender brought the reporter his drink-Johrian whiskey. Den sipped it, watching I-Five with interest.

"I heard you were helping Padawan Offee earlier in the OT."

"True. It was-quite an experience."

Den took another sip. "If you don’t mind my saying, you seem rather-unusual for a droid.

How did you come to be assigned here?"

At first it seemed that the droid was not going to re-ply. Then he said, " ’I am cast upon the winds of space and time, like a planetesimal spun eternally between suns.’"

Now Den was shocked. "Kai Konnik," he said. "Beach of Stars. Winner of the Galaxis Award for best novel last year, if I’m not-"

"Two years ago," I-Five corrected him.

Den stared at him. "You have an impressive knowl-edge of literature for a droid."

"Not really. My memory banks are programmed with more than two hundred thousand novels, holo-plays, poems, and-"

"I wasn’t talking about memory," Den said. "Most protocol droids have the capacity to store that much in-formation. And most droids, if asked to quote from a particular work, can access it as easily as you just did. But," he continued, leaning forward, "I’ve never met any kind of droid yet who could use the material meta-phorically. Which is what you were doing."

Silence for another moment; then the droid emitted something that sounded remarkably like a human sigh.

"At times I wish I were a carbon-based being," he said. "The concept of intoxication is attractive."

"It has its advantages," Den agreed as he took an-other drink. "You going to tell me why you’re in here?"

Again, I-Five seemed disinclined to speak at first. Then he said, "Nostalgia."

Den waited. He’d come into the cantina to see if he could dig up any more dirt on Filba, but so far this was more interesting. If I-Five hadn’t been a droid, Den would have plied him with drinks to loosen his tongue. It seemed, however, that little loosening would be needed. The droid obviously wanted to unburden him-self to someone.

"I used to spend a fair amount of time in establish-ments much like this one," I-Five continued. "Places like the Green Glowstone Tavern and the Dewback Inn, in the Zi-Kree sector on-"

"Coruscant," Den finished. "I know them both well. Nasty part of town; they call it the Crimson Corridor." He finished his drink and signaled for another. "I found a lot of good leads to stories there." He looked at I-Five in silence for a moment. "Most watering holes don’t like droids; some old superstition, I believe. I’m surprised your master got away with bringing you in with him."

"Lorn Pavan wasn’t my master," the droid said. "He was my friend."

The muscles in Den’s forehead were starting to get sore from their strenuous workout.

"Your friend?"

"We were ’business associates.’ We traded under-world information, ran sabacc numbers, brokered the occasional minor government intel-that sort of thing. Not exactly the thrilling life one sees in the holodramas, but it did offer an occasional frisson or two."

"Colorful," Den commented. When the droid did not continue, he said, "Well, you’re a long way from the big city now, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Why are-?"

He broke off, noticing I-Five’s sudden shifting of at-tention from him to a group of surgeons who had just entered. Among them was Zan Yant, who carried his quetarra. Den assumed there would be music later on, after the cantina filled up a little more; that was the usual way of it. He didn’t mind; he liked