Suddenly, Boba found what he was looking for. He bit his lip to keep from crying aloud in triumph. It was only a rag - a long, grayish-yellow piece of cloth, dirty and full of holes.
But it was good enough for him. Boba glanced back to make sure no one had sighted him. The Jawas were just approaching the entrance now. One of them appeared to be talking to the Gammorean guards. Swiftly, Boba pulled the cloth over his head. It smelled bad - it stank, as a matter of fact - but he gritted his teeth and tried to arrange it properly.
He pulled part of it over his face. He tugged it forward, till it covered his face like a hood. The cloth fell to just below his knees. He removed his belt from his tunic and tied it loosely around his waist. That was better. He was a little taller than the Jawas, so he bent his knees. It was hard to walk that way, but once he was inside, maybe no one would notice if he straightened up.
He peered around the pile of rubble. Another group was nearing the gambling palace. They were too far away for him to see clearly, but they were tall, and vaguely humanoid.
And there were a lot of them.
I’d better get inside, fast.
Boba looked down at the gambling palace. The Gammorean guards were nodding and waving the Jawas inside. Boba waited until the last Jawa had disappeared into the krayt dragon’s mouth. Then he took a deep breath, and began to hurry toward the entrance.
But when he got there he stopped. One of the Gammorean guards glared down at him, grunting in a questioning tone. It held a tall spear, and waved it menacingly.
Its partner peered through its piggy little eyes at Boba, skeptical.
Boba bent his knees a little more. He tugged the folds of cloth around his head, praying his face didn’t show. He pointed toward the entrance, miming that he wanted to go inside.
Just then, one guard nudged the other, grunting and pointing behind Boba.
“Aarrrgh!” snarled the other guard. It gnashed its tusks angrily and stared where the other had indicated.
Boba wanted to turn and look behind him - but he didn’t dare. He stood, wondering if he should make a dash for the entrance.
Without warning, one of the Gammoreans swung his spear through the air high above Boba’s head. He gestured Boba inside.
Boba nodded eagerly. Gathering the folds of his cloak, he ducked his head, then walked as fast as he could through the krayt dragon’s mouth - and into the domain of the Hutts.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Inside the gambling palace, the noise was deafening. Laughter, angry shouts, howls of triumph and disappointment - all with the jingle of coins, the rattle of dice, the clack of Kenoballs, the cries of card dealers and money changers. The Hutts’ gambling palace was yet another maze, all smoke-filled rooms and arcades; so crowded with gamblers that Boba could hardly squeeze through. Gamorrean boars lumbered around, keeping order and throwing out the most unruly customers. Boba saw the Jawas he’d seen outside, haggling with a Bimm over a game of Outlander. Boba wondered if it was a real Bimm or another shapeshifter.
“Watch the Podraces!” a voice shouted. Boba looked up and saw a huge screen. Podraces were being broadcast from Tatooine. “No bets refused!”
Boba fingered the card in his Pocket. He was too smart to waste his money on betting. His father had warned him against gambling.
“A bounty hunter gambles with his life every day,” Jango always said. “Only a fool would gamble with money, too.”
Boba tugged his ragged hood closer around his face. He had only one aim now - to find some way back to the Upper Levels. To find some way of locating his treasure. To get back to Slave I and leave Aargau - without Aurra Sing.
He put his hand in his pocket and touched the book his father had left him.
For knowledge you must find Jabba.
Find Jabba. Boba had always assumed that to locate the notorious gangster, he would have to go to Jabba’s homeworld of Nal Hutta. Or to Tatooine, where the powerful clan leader had created a smuggling empire.
But what if Jabba were here, on Aargau? The Hutts were involved in every kind of illegal activity in the galaxy. Maybe Jabba was actually here, in the Undercity - in this very gambling palace!
But how to find him? Boba thought hard. He’d have to find the Twi’lek again - the one he thought might be the famous Bib Fortuna. He pulled the ragged cloak back a little from his eyes, straining to see through the dim, smoky room.
A deep voice snarled behind him. Boba looked up and saw one of the Gamorrean boars. A spear was raised threateningly in his huge hand. The message was clear. If you’re not spending money, get out of here!
Boba nodded apologetically. He started to turn away, when the guard suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
Ulp! If the guard pulled off his disguise, there’d be no Boba, either! Quickly he dug into his pocket and held up his card, careful to hold it in his sleeve, so his hand wouldn’t show. It flickered gold in the dim light.