Star Wars_ The Adventures of Lando Calrissia - L. Neil Smith [44]
Jandler, his troopers, even Vuffi Raa jumped a little at this outburst. The police leader blinked, considered, then shook his head and sighed.
“Okay, Calrissian—I wish to perdition I knew! I’ve been sent on more crazy errands in the last couple of days than in my whole career, up until now: your hotel room, the Spaceman’s Rest, the spaceport, and now this. It puts a man in mind of retiring early, pension or not. What do you know about it?”
Lando squatted down on his haunches, keeping the blaster centered on Jandler. “I hate the devil to steal your line, Captain, but I’m asking the questions, here. Tell me, exactly where—rather, from whom—did you receive your orders, if one may ask?”
Jandler glanced quickly at his men, then back to Lando, and licked his lips. “Where do you think? From that fat son-of-a-”
“Captain!” shouted one of the cops, “you can’t—”
“The Entropy I can’t! Do you think that overstuffed chair-warmer gives a nit in a nova what happens to any of us? All he cares about is that Sharu doohicky, and if we come back without it, we might as well not come back! Well, I—”
“You mean this?” Lando drew the Key from his waistband. It gleamed in the early morning sunlight and, if anything, seemed more disorienting than before.
Lando could see the guard-captain calculating whether it was worth the risk jumping for it. He looked from the Key to his former blaster muzzle, across to Lando, up at Vuffi Raa, then back to the Key again. Finally, he shrugged.
“Let him get it for himself!” Jandler decided out loud. “Is there any way my men and I can get out of this alive, Captain Calrissian? I won’t give you those hull-scrapings about ‘just following orders again’—only, well, I’m not too fond of the idea of dying, just now. Especially since I seem destined to taste the fruits of civilian life for a while.”
Lando turned, winked at Vuffi Raa, and looked back at Jandler.
“Well, old Constable, you people do seem to present us with a problem. I’m impressed with your change of heart, but insufficiently so to be too happy about your breathing down my neck while I’m on this planet. Giving you all the Big Push would seem to be the answer—”
He held up a hand.
“—But I am highly disinclined in that direction, believe me. As you know, I am a gambler by profession, certainly no killer. I live by my wits, not by the gun, however useful the things may prove to be at times. If we can think of a way to let things work out for everybody, I’ll certainly cooperate.”
Jandler grinned, scratched his head. His men, a few yards away, seemed to relax a few notches as well.
“Now, Captain Jandler,” said Lando, “this is what I think we’ll do …”
The idea worked out better than Lando had expected.
Aboard the Millennium Falcon, there were several tough, inflatable life-bubbles that could be jettisoned, with air and other short-term supplies. A man could live inside one for several days in moderate discomfort. They weren’t much use if something went wrong in interstellar space, but, in the neighborhood of a solar system—where most accidents happen anyway—they could keep one alive until assistance, summoned by an automatic radio beacon, arrived.
Lando’s original plan was to haul the constabulary contingent out a few astronomical units and abandon them in space. They’d be out of his and Vuffi Raa’s figurative hair for a few days, and yet live to tell their grandchildren about the experience. Happy ending all around.
The little droid made it happier.
“Well, Master, that takes care of that. I believe the gentlemen can go aboard now.” He was exiting a hatch in the side of a powered interplanetary cargo barge, large, dark, and rusty, in which the police team had originally traveled to Rafa V. The humble vessel’s presence had helped Vuffi Raa to locate Lando in the nick of time.
Lando transferred the blaster to his left hand, extended his right to