Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 02_ Shield of Lies - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [50]
“Well, I’ll—there’s no ‘there’ there,” Luke said, peering over his shoulder as he brought the bubbleback to the curb in front of Number 38.
Popping the bubble, Akanah jumped out before the landspeeder came to a stop. She ran back down the street in a staggered gait, hugging her arms to her chest, her gaze darting from one side of the roadway to the other. Her steps slowed as she neared the lot opposite Number 25. She looked frantic and frail standing there, staring at the bare ground and the broken outline of a foundation.
Leaping out of the landspeeder, Luke hurried after Akanah. Before he could reach her, her legs buckled under her, and she dropped to her knees in the dust-dry rain gutter.
“No!” she screamed, her anguish stretching the single syllable into a wounded howl. “No! It’s not fair!”
“Akanah—”
She raised her head and turned her face toward him. Her eyes were full of pain, her cheeks streaked with tears. “I’ll never find them,” she whispered hoarsely. “What am I going to do, Luke?”
“You’re going to keep looking. All this means is that Nori’s not here,” Luke said, crouching beside her. “You weren’t counting on that, were you?” But he saw in her eyes that she had been, and what might have been a minor disappointment was a bitter blow.
“Something the matter, folks?” a new voice said from behind.
Both Luke and Akanah turned their heads quickly to see a stubble-faced middle-aged man in blue-black tech coveralls approaching them from the direction of Number 27. Luke stood as the man neared, and offered Akanah a hand to help her up. She remained on her knees and took Luke’s hand to steady herself instead.
“Is the lady having a problem?” the man asked again, a hint more suspicion in his appraising look. “Do you want to call out to Medi-Aid?”
“No—she’s all right. She just had an ugly surprise, that’s all,” Luke said. “We’re looking for someone who used to live in Number Twenty-six.”
“Ah,” the man said with a nod. “Po Reggis—Jiki and I live over in Twenty-seven Up. So you didn’t know, did you? You must be visitors.” He glanced down the street. “Why, sure you are, and I’m a fool for not seeing—bubbleback’s not practical in a working city.”
“Was it the war?” Akanah asked, her voice shaky.
“The war? No, Teyr was never bombed. Cyclone,” Reggis said. “Eight—no, nine years ago. Took out eight houses here, then skipped and hit another five over at the end of North Three. The committee used to talk about rebuilding, but there’s no demand—half the houses in the city are single-family now, Up and Down. It’s all the field droids they’ve brought in—city’s slow-dying, if you ask me.”
Luke urged Akanah to her feet. “The people who lived here—”
“Kritt and Fola. Good folks. Our kids played with their kids, till they all moved to Turos Noth.”
“Kritt and Fola are in Turos Noth now?” Akanah asked, a spark of hope entering her voice.
The spark was quickly extinguished by Po Reggis. “What? No, dead, the whole family. Sorry. Killed by the cyclone. It was the supper hour, and the weather radar failed. Fifteen dead on this street alone—I knew them all.”
Akanah sagged against Luke. “How long have you lived here?” Luke asked.
Reggis squinted. “Twenty-seven—no, twenty-eight years.”
“The person we’re looking for would have moved here nineteen years ago,” Luke said. “A girl, eleven years old. Akanah?”
“She was—dark-haired. Willowy. Her name was Norika, or Nori.”
“I don’t know,” Reggis said. “Maybe Jiki remembers—did you say the name was Rika? Oh, Twenty-six Down. Who was it that lived there then? Trobe Saar, I think was her name.”
“Yes!” Akanah said eagerly. “You remember her? Where did she go? Please tell me she wasn’t one of the fifteen—”
“Sure, I remember little Rika. She was shy as a shadow. Wasn’t there very long—one season at most. The Dormand family moved into Twenty-six Down the spring I transferred to Irrigation. I’m sorry—I don’t know where they all went. That was all a long time ago,