Star Wars_ Splinter of the Mind's Eye - Alan Dean Foster [35]
“I require only service from you, Grammel. Not questions.”
“Yes, sir,” the administrator barked stiffly.
Essada took a lighter tack. “You did well to contact me directly, though not for the reasons you thought. Once those two are in Imperial hands, you will become Colonel-Supervisor Grammel.”
“Governor!” Grammel lost his poise completely. “Sir, you are too generous. I don’t know what to say.…”
“Say nothing,” Essada suggested. “It makes you more tolerable. Keep them alive, Grammel. Whether you go to hell or glory is dependent on how well you carry out these orders. Beyond keeping them alive and healthy you have my permission to restrain them as you please.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, may I …”
But Governor Essada had already all but forgotten Grammel.
“One particular party should find this information of particular notice. It will be well for me, yes.” Abruptly, he noticed that communications were still open.
“Alive, Grammel. Remember that.”
“But, sir, can’t you tell …?”
The screen went blank.
The Captain-Supervisor stood motionless before the dark rectangle for several long, thoughtful moments. Then he repositioned screen and control panel, turned to the cloaked figure which was crawling out from behind the concealing bulk of a free-formed chair across the room.
“We appear to have stumbled onto something far more important than either of us dreamed, Bot. ‘Colonel-Supervisor!’” He gazed down at the crystal in his hand, all thoughts of its possible lethal nature shunted aside by the vision of the glittering future ahead of him. “We must take care.”
The cloaked figure nodded energetically.…
VI
“TAKE it easy,” Luke complained, shrugging his arm free of the trooper who was escorting them down the long, narrow stone hallway. As they paced, Luke took the opportunity to study the damp, dripping walls. Some of them showed dark moss. Clearly, the omnipresent moisture of Mimban penetrated the old walls here.
“You’d think the Imperial government could have invested some credit in modern quarters,” he murmured.
“Why,” the subofficer ahead of them wanted to know, “when the primitives of this world left us such useful structures?”
“A temple, a place of worship, and it’s been turned into offices and a prison,” the Princess declared angrily.
“The Empire does what is necessary,” the subofficer observed in a phlegmatic manner which would have gratified his superiors. “I am told this mining is an expensive venture. The Empire is smart enough to save where it is able,” he concluded with pride.
“That probably extends to your pay and retirement benefits,” the Princess ventured maliciously.
“That’s enough talk from the prisoners,” the disgruntled subofficer decided aloud, unhappy with the turn the conversation had taken. They rounded a sharp corner. A network of intersecting diagonal bars formed an unbreakable mesh at the end of the corridor.
“Here’s your new home,” the subofficer informed them. “Inside you can muse about what the Empire has in store for your future.” As the subofficer passed a palm over the wall on his immediate right, an unbarred ellipsoid appeared in the center of the metal grill.
“Move,” the trooper next to Luke ordered, prodding him with his rifle.
“I was told we were going to have company,” Luke ventured, walking toward the empty space with great reluctance. This provoked considerable merriment among the assembled troopers.
“You’ll find it soon enough,” the subofficer chuckled, “or it’ll find you.”
Once both prisoners stood inside the cell, the subofficer passed his hand over the photoplate again and the dematerialized bars reappeared with a solid clank.
“Company, he says,” one of the retreating troopers echoed, as they walked back up the corridor. They continued laughing among themselves.
“For some reason I’m not amused,” Luke muttered. Each of the angled bars was as big around as his forearm. He flicked one with a nail and it rang like a bell. “Solid, not tubular,” he announced. “This cell was designed to hold more