Prince Xizor turned away from the viewport. His cold reptilian glance took in the trembling subassembly. Perhaps, if he were to crush it beneath the sole of his boot, a shock of pain would flash along the web’s neurofibers, straight into Kud’ar Mub’at’s chitinous skull. It would be an experiment worth making; he had an interest in whatever might produce fear inside any of the galaxy’s inhabitants. Someday, Xizor told himself. But not right now. “Tell your master,” he said in a smooth, unthreatening voice, “that I’ll be there directly.”
When he entered the web’s main chamber, he saw that Kud’ar Mub’at had settled its globular abdomen back into its padded nest. “Ah, my highly esteemed Xizor!” It used the same obsequious voice that he had overheard it lavishing on the departed bounty hunter. “I so very much hope that you weren’t uncomfortable in that wretched space! Great is my mortification, my embarrassment that I should offer such-“
“It was more than adequate,” said Xizor. “Don’t fret yourself about it.” He folded his heavily corded forearms across his chest. “I’m not always surrounded by the luxuries of the Emperor’s court. Sometimes …” He let the corner of his mouth lift in a partial smile. “Sometimes my accommodations-and my companions-are of a rougher sort.”
“Ah.” Kud’ar Mub’at nodded quickly. “Just so.”
The assembler knew better than to speak anything aloud of what his noble guest had just referred to. Even the two words “Black Sun,” in as private a place as this, were forbidden. To make silence a general rule was to ensure that no one would discover the other side of Xizor’s double existence. In one universe, he was Emperor Palpatine’s loyal servant; in that universe’s shadowed twin, he was the leader of a criminal organization whose reach, if not power, was as galaxy spanning as the Empire’s.
“He took the job.” Xizor said the words as
a statement of fact, not a question.
“Yes,
of course he did.” Kud’ar Mub’at
fussed nervously with the pneumatic bladders of his nest. “Boba Fett
is
a
reasonable entity. In his way.
Very businesslike; I find that to be of the utmost charm in him.”
“When you use the word ‘businesslike,’ ” noted Xizor, “you mean … ‘can be bought.’ “
“What other possible definition is there?” As Kud’ar Mub’at gazed at him, the assembler’s eyes filled with innocence. “My so dear Xizor-we’re all businessmen. We can all be bought.”
“Speak for yourself.” The partial smile on his face turned into a full sneer. “I prefer to be the one who’s doing the buying.”
“Ah, and so happy am I to be one of those whose services you have purchased.” Kud’ar Mub’at settled itself more comfortably into its nest. “I hope this grand scheme of yours, of which I am so small yet hopefully an essential part, will turn out exactly as you, in your ineffable wisdom, wish it to.”
“It will,” said Xizor, “if you perform the rest of your role as well as you did with hoodwinking Boba Fett.”
“You flatter me.” Kud’ar Mub’at bowed its head low. “My thespic abilities are regrettably crude, but perhaps they sufficed in this instance.”
The assembler had had to be no more than its usual conniving self to set the trap in which the bounty hunter was already ensnared. One of the nodes in the central chamber was a simple auditory unit, a tympanic membrane with legs, tied like all the rest of the nodes into the web’s expanded nervous system. From his hiding place, Prince Xizor had been able to listen in, another one of Kud’ar Mub’at’s attached offspring whispering into his ear all the words passing between the assembler and Boba Fett. The web surrounding them wasn’t the only one that Kud’ar Mub’at could spin. Fett was not aware of it yet, but strands too fine to be detected were already tangling about his boots, drawing him into a trap without escape.
Xizor almost felt sorry for the bounty hunter. The reptilian Falleen species was even more coldblooded than Trandoshans such as the aging Cradossk and his rage-driven offspring Bossk; pity was not an emotion that Xizor had ever experienced. Whether he was operating on behalf of Emperor Palpatine or secretly advancing the Black Sun’s criminal agenda, Xizor manipulated all who came into his reach with the same nonemotion he’d display for pieces on a gaming board. They were to be positioned and used as necessity dictated, sacrificed and discarded when strategy required. Still, thought Xizor, an entity such as Boba Fett … The bounty hunter merited his respect, at least. To look into that helmet’s concealing visor was to meet a gaze as ruthless and unsentimental as his own. He’ll fight to survive. And he’ll fight well… .