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“Okay, Artoo. Let’s see if we can find our friend Tymmo. Jack into the stadium computer and see if he’s bought a ticket or placed a bet. If so, let’s find out where he’s seated.”

The announcer’s voice echoed around the arena. “Sentient beings of all genders—welcome to the galaxy-renowned blob races of Umgul! Before we begin this afternoon’s first heat, we’d like to call your attention to next week’s special gala blob derby to be hosted in honor of a visiting dignitary, the Duchess Mistal from our sister planet Dargul. We hope you’ll all attend.”

The apathetic reaction from the crowd told Lando just how many visiting dignitaries Umgul must host throughout the year.

“For this afternoon’s event we’ll be running fourteen thoroughbred racing blobs through a twelve-point blobstacle course that has been thoroughly inspected and certified by the galactic racing commission. All data on the age, mass, and viscosity of our racing blobs is available at the terminal in front of your seat.”

Lando smiled grimly at that. Umgul City claimed to run clean blob races, and cheating was a capital offense. “What does he mean by ‘thoroughbred racing blobs’?” he asked.

Threepio heard him. “This species of blob has several variants that are used for different purposes throughout the system. Some upper-class people actually keep them as pets. Others have seen certain medicinal value in blob treatment, such as letting a blob ooze across one’s back for massage therapy or soaking one’s aching feet in the warm gelatinous mass.”

“But these are racers?”

“Yes, sir, bred for speed and fluidity.”

The announcer finished reading several standard disclaimers. “At this point we officially declare all betting substations to be closed. The odds computer will post final probability tables, which are now available at your terminals. We shall begin the race in just a moment. Please enjoy a refreshment compatible with your biochemistry while you wait!”

Hearing a ratcheting sound, Lando directed his attention to the rear of the playing field. Conveyor mechanisms raised the blob platforms to a high ramp, stopping in front of a gate that held the oozing blobs back from the launching slide. The fourteen separate chutes in the steep, lubricated ramp were designed to boost a blob’s momentum at the starting signal.

“On your mark!” the announcer said.

Lando could sense a blanketing hush through the stadium as the spectators craned forward, staring at the chutes and waiting for the blobs to emerge.

A loud electronic tone reverberated through the air, like a bullet hitting a brass bell, and suddenly the gates flew open. The ramps tilted forward, spilling the multicolored blobs down the lubricated chutes.

Fourteen syrupy masses tumbled and oozed pell-mell down the slides, striking the low walls and slithering as fast as they could to the bottom of the ramp. The blobs showed a range of colors, primarily grayish green but laced with bright hues. Variegated strands of vermillion stood out on one, turquoise on another, lime-green on a third. Each blob had a holographic number imprinted in its protoplasm; the number somehow stayed upright no matter which way the blob oriented itself.

With the chutes equally lubricated, all fourteen blobs struck the bottom of the ramp at about the same time. When the low walls no longer separated the tracks, the frantic blobs began to make their way helter-skelter around each other, gushing forward into the blobstacle course.

One contender, Blob 11—a dark-green specimen laced with a striking amethyst pattern—burst onto the flat of the track with pseudopods already extended, as if trying to scramble away the moment it hit the bottom of the ramp. It squirted forward, clenching itself together and oozing its body core ahead.

The amethyst blob had pulled a small lead by the time it hit the first obstacle, a tall metal screen with a wide mesh. Blob 11 hurled itself onto the mesh grid with its full body and began to push its entire self through,