Star Wars_ MedStar 02_ Jedi Healer - Michael Reaves [84]
“You have what I need?”
“Yes.”
“Then you and your friend have your two days’ warning. I suggest you use the time wisely.”
Thula’s voice was a soft, feral purr. “And the balance of our payment?”
“Look atop the inside ledge of the door’s frame.”
There was a brief pause. Kaird’s ears were keen enough to detect the sound of the Falleen’s footfalls as she quickly moved to the door, paused a moment, then returned to the wall. He caught a faint glimmer of light through the mesh as she triggered the credit cube he’d left over the door and checked the holoproj for the sum it contained.
“Most generous,” she said.
“Where is my case?” he asked.
“By now it’s in your kiosk, next to your other luggage. It was a pleasure doing business with you, friend.”
“You have a way to depart?”
“Yes. We’ve secured tentative passage on a small transport vessel, leaving tomorrow. There is a pilot open to bribes.”
“A surface-to-ship transport won’t take you far.”
“Far enough to obtain something else that will. Money is a powerful lubricant.”
“Perhaps we’ll met again someday,” Kaird said.
“Perhaps,” she said.
Kaird moved away from the shed and back to his kiosk. The door had been locked, but such locks as were used here were hardly proof against professional thieves, as Squa Tront and Thula were—among their many other talents.
The carbonite slab stood next to his other bag, disguised so as to resemble a moderately priced travel case. It was almost a perfect match to his luggage. Frozen in carbonite, the bota would keep until somebody triggered the melter. After that, it would have to be processed quickly to avoid the rapid rot that would follow, but that was not his problem. Black Sun had the best chemists in the galaxy on tap; all he had to do was get it to them.
He hefted the case. It was heavy, nearly seventy kilos, he judged, but easily within his ability to pick up and carry.
Kaird felt better in that moment than he had since he had arrived on this pestilent planet. He had done the best he could, given the circumstances, and when all was said and done, he felt he would come out of it looking very good indeed. Just a couple more days of subterfuge, and then on to his homeworld and peace.
A well-deserved peace.
Jos woke up in the middle of the night, grainy from his most recent bout of drinking. He sat up on his cot and rubbed his eyes. He had dreamed of Tolk, and in the dream she had told him why she wanted to go away. Only now, he couldn’t remember what she had said.
Jos stood, padded to the ’fresher, and splashed water on his face. He rinsed his mouth out. He had been drinking lately to such an extent that even the anti-veisalgia drugs that normally quashed hangovers were losing their effectiveness. He looked at himself in the mirror.
What a sad sight you are.
He sighed. No question about that.
What a pitiful excuse for a man, too. Are you just going to let her go? Without a fight?
He frowned at his reflection. Aloud, he said, “What am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me! And I don’t know why!”
So? You’re not stupid! Figure out why! You couldn’t stop Zan dying—are you just going to let Tolk walk away without even knowing why?
Jos turned away from the mirror and went back to his cot. He stood there, staring at the bed. There was the question, wasn’t it? The big one, the only one: why? What had caused Tolk, the woman who said she loved him, to just up and leave? She had cited the explosion on MedStar, the dozens of deaths—but that didn’t make sense. Tolk had seen worse, far worse, and a lot closer at hand. No, this was different. It was almost as if she’d received a revelation from some primitive planetary deity…
The sudden realization hit him hard enough to make him sit down. It was as if he had been punched in the solar plexus, his wind stolen, so that he couldn’t take another breath. He knew. He knew!
Great-Uncle Erel. He had talked to Tolk. He had