Boba shook his head. No time for remorse now. But, he thought, if I ever see that clone again, I owe him a favor. A really, really big one.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Boba looked around. He could barely see the turbolifts from here - too many crowds. That meant Aurra Sing would have trouble spotting him, at least for a little while. He glanced from one tunnel to the next, all of them, silver-green in the eerie light of Level Two.
Did one of them hold the treasure?
It was like a puzzle. Or no - - it was like a labyrinth. A maze. And beneath this level, was another level, and then another, levels upon levels extending for kilometers to the surface of Aargau, where the Undercity was. Even if he ever claimed his credits, how could he find his way around? Would he be able to get back to Level One and his ship?
Mazes upon mazes. His father had told him once about being captured and imprisoned in an underground labyrinth on Belsavis and another time on Balmorra. A deadly scorpionlike kretch insect hunted him through the tunnels.
“How did you escape?” Boba had asked breathlessly.
“By keeping my head,” his father replied. “Mazes are designed to confuse you. To disorient you. But mazes always have an inner logic. Someone had to design them, after all. If you can stay calm and think, you can always find your way out - if you have enough time.”
Boba shook his head. He looked at the vast number of tunnels around him.
No one had enough time to check out every one of them!
He glanced down at the book, still in his hands.
Open it when you need it, his father had said. Well, I sure need it now! thought Boba. He opened it.
The message screen was gray and blank. But slowly, as he stared down at it, letters appeared.
NEVER SEEK OUT HELP, the screen read.
Boba read the message over and over. Finally he closed the book and put it back in his pocket.
Never seek out help. He looked around at the thousands of silver-green tunnels. If he didn’t ask for help here, how would he ever find his way?
“Excuse me,” said a small voice beside him.
Boba jumped, his hands thrust out in a fighting posture. Next to him was a little figure, not even as tall as he was. It had a vaguely donkeyish face, pale yellow in color, with large pointed ears that swooped out from either side of its head like wings. It wore plain yellow homespun pants and a vest over a matching yellow shirt. Its hands and face were covered with short, soft fur.
It was a Bimm, Boba realized. A native of Bimmisaari.
“I could not help noticing that you seem a bit confused,” the Bimm went on in its singsong voice. “May I be of assistance?”
“Uh,” stammered Boba. Then he remembered what his father’s book had said.
Never seek out help.
Boba glanced nervously, across to where
the
turbolifts
were discharging more passengers onto Level Two.
Could that flash of red and white, fast as crimson lightning, be Aurra Sing? Or was he just imagining it?
The Bimm said, “I am Nuri. An independent money exchanger.” Nuri gestured at the teeming crowds around them. “It is confusing, is it not? Especially when one is a first-time visitor to Aargau. Might this be your first visit?”
Boba looked at Nuri suspiciously. But the Bimm’s singsong voice was friendly, his small bright eyes warm and welcoming. Besides, Boba was a whole head taller than the little alien. Reluctantly, Boba admitted, “Ye-e- es - it is my first visit.”
The Bimm nodded wisely. “I thought so. Much of my business consists of helping people like yourself. Making their time here easier. Visitors from all over the galaxy come to Aargau - “
Nuri swept his little hand out. A group of brightly dressed Mrissi swarmed past them, their brilliant feathers peeking from long robes. Close behind them a group of security guards paced watchfully in formation. Behind the guards were more members of the Banking Clan.
This group, however, seemed different from the others of the Clan. Boba stared at them, frowning. There were more heavily armed guards, for one thing. And a number of security droids - lots of S-EP1s. In the middle of them all walked a very tall, very thin man with a face lean and sharp as a razor. Two lieutenants flanked his sides.
“That is San Hill,” said Nuri in a low voice. “He is the head of the InterGalactic Banking Clan.”
“He looks like a big stick insect,” said Boba, not wanting the Bimm to know he’d seen San Hill before.
Nuri tried to hide a smile. “Perhaps. But he is one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. His presence here, now, is very interesting indeed.”
The two of them turned and watched as the procession disappeared into one of the eerie green tunnels.
When they were gone, Nuri said, “But enough of that!” The Bimm put a small, furred hand upon Boba’s shoulder. “Tell me, what is the nature of your business on Aargau?”