Star Wars_ Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina - Kevin J. Anderson [149]
Never once did Eyvind tell me about his wedding plans.
Day 15: Eyvind and Ariela
I took my speeder to Eyvind’s farm to pick up one of his old broken-down vaporators, and he walked out of his house with a beautiful girl.
“This is Ariela, my fiancée,” he said. “We’re getting married in five weeks.”
As simple as that. Eyvind hadn’t told anyone about this, not even me. I hadn’t known he’d kept boundaries like this between our friendship.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” I told Ariela. “And congratulations to both of you.”
“You’re the farmer with the big plans for us all,” she said.
Eyvind looked closely at me. “Can you understand now why I don’t want Sand People coming around my farm?” he said.
The arguing wouldn’t stop. I’d barely met Ariela—I’d barely been told about their wedding—and already the three of us were arguing. “Look,” I said. “I just believe that none of us can survive out here if we can’t make peace with the Sand People and the Jawas. At any rate, I’m sure the two of you don’t want to argue with me five weeks before your wedding. Sell me that old vaporator, Eyvind, and I’ll go.”
“But I think you’re doing the right thing, Ariq,” Ariela said, and that stopped me, fast. I didn’t know what to say.
“I think we should help you—and I believe I know the way to start. Would your Jawa friends come to our wedding? Would you invite them for us? As neighbors, they should be part of the important things in our lives.”
“She’s never smelled them,” Eyvind said.
“They’ll come,” I said. “I’ll go today to invite them.”
And I did. I dropped the old vaporator off at my house, packed up provisions for a night in Bildor’s Canyon, and set off. I reached the Jawa fortress before the sunsets.
“You have honored us again!” Wimateeka chittered after I extended the invitation. “But what of presents? We should take something, but we can spare so little! Our gifts will seem cheap and tawdry.”
“They will honor whatever you give them,” I said.
They took me, again, inside their gates to the great council chamber. We talked late into the night about wedding gifts—of rock salt, which they thought might make a good gift; of water, which they couldn’t spare; of cloth, which was never in adequate supply; of reconditioned droids, which would make elegant but prohibitively expensive gifts.
“Offer to teach them your language,” I said. “That would make a fine gift.”
But they liked best the idea of rock salt.
We did not resolve the question that night.
Day 32: Some Neighbors Pay Me a Visit
I finished installing the second old vaporator I’d bought from Eyvind just after dark, and if the diagnostics I’d run on it were accurate it would be a decent producer—maybe as much as 1.3 liters a day. My farm would be producing one to two liters above my old average, so I knew I was definitely not going to miss the water I was giving the Sand People.
I packed my tools in the landspeeder and headed slowly back toward my house and supper. I went slowly because it was dark and there were things out here to be wary of. At least I didn’t have to worry about the Sand People as I had before. At least there was that.
I dropped down into the canyon where I’d built my house, and there were lights around my house—a lot of lights. I sped up then.
“It’s him!” I heard people shouting when I stopped.
What had happened?
It was Eyvind and Ariela, the Jensens, who’d home-steaded next to Eyvind, the Clays, the Bjornsons—and six or eight others.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Eyvind stepped forward. “We’ve come to ask you, as your neighbors, to stop giving water to the Sand People. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
I’d imagined Imperial trouble of some kind—maybe the razing of Mos Eisley to stamp out