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“That’s as close to perfect transmissivity as any material I know of,” Lobot said.

“Do you mean it’s not a holo?” Lando asked.

“Master Lando, Artoo says that the star is forty-four meters away. The planet is seventeen meters away.”

“It’s an orrery,” Lobot said. “An enormous shadow-box orrery of the Qella system. I’m very curious about the mechanism—”

Lando was nodding his agreement with Lobot’s conclusion, then interrupted him. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more chatter right now.”

“Why? What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lando said, drawing and releasing a deep breath. “I may never see another piece of art this beautiful again. I just want to enjoy it for a while before we go on.”

The refrigerated cask being loaded into the cargo box of Drayson’s landspeeder at the Obroan Institute’s Newport landing bay had made the fastest possible journey from Maltha Obex to Coruscant. Even so, Drayson wore his impatience openly on his face as he watched the stevedores maneuver the large coffin-shaped object.

“Excuse me?” someone said at Drayson’s elbow. He turned to find a white-haired, sun-bronzed face peering curiously at him.

“Yes?”

“Are you Harkin Dyson? The cargomaster said that the owner was here for the pickup.”

“Yes,” Drayson said, turning away from the loading. “And you are—”

“Joto Eckels,” said the stranger. “I was in charge of the excavation. I just had to see if it was you. I wanted to thank you myself.”

“For what, Dr. Eckels?”

“If you hadn’t picked up the contract, our trip to Maltha Obex would have been canceled. We might not have been able to recover Kroddok and Josala’s bodies for years.” He gestured over his shoulder at Meridian’s shuttle. “And I want to thank you for agreeing to let me bring them back with me on this run—that was a great kindness to their families.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” Drayson said.

“We might like to think so, sir, but it’s not so. I know that’s not why you picked up the contract, but I want you to know how much that opportunity meant to all of us who knew the team. And I want to assure you again that none of this delayed delivery of your material.” Eckels nodded toward the cask, now secured in the cargo box.

“I know it didn’t,” said Drayson, flashing a reassuring smile. “Thank you for your good offices, Dr. Eckels. Meridian will return you to Maltha Obex at your convenience—I’ve already given Captain Wagg his instructions. And please relay my thanks to the rest of your team.”

“I will,” said Eckels. “And, by the way—based on what I saw before I left, I expect they’ll have quite a bit more material recovered and cataloged by the time I rejoin them. There are twelve good, hardworking folks down there, living out of cold camps and logging long days on the digs. You can expect us to return with more than enough to allow us to authenticate those possible Qella artifacts.”

“Very good,” said Drayson, taking a sidestep toward the cargo speeder.

Eckels moved with him. “I was wondering if it might be possible to get a look at those artifacts, a holo at the very least, before I head back to Maltha Obex.”

“Sorry, I don’t think that would be possible,” Drayson said, smiling politely and trying again to turn away.

“I understand the need for discretion. I just want to point out that it could be very helpful in setting priorities for our remaining time there,” Eckels said. “After all, twenty-five days is hardly enough to make a beginning on an entire planet. I can remember expeditions where we spent three months in general survey and site selection before we moved our first pebble.”

“Doctor, I understand—and I won’t hold you responsible for the handicaps I imposed on you,” Drayson said. “Above all else, I’m a realist. I’m quite certain the results will be in line with my expectations.”

Drayson moved toward the cargo speeder’s door as though to leave, but Eckels moved more quickly and blocked his way. “There’s something else I need to speak with you about.”

This time Drayson allowed a flash