“But I have not done anything,” Hoole replied.
“Captain Thrawn is questioning everyone,” Lieutenant Tiers declared. He pointed at Zak and Tash. “They can remain behind.”
Hoole was gone a long time. Zak and Tash could do nothing but wait impatiently, pacing the corridors of the Shroud, tapping their fingers against the powerless computer monitors.
“Do you think Sh’shak did it?” Zak finally asked. “Do you think he’s a Rebel?”
“Maybe, to the first question,” his sister replied. “But I doubt it to the second. Think about the Rebels we’ve met in the past. Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia, and even Wedge a few months ago. They were willing to fight for what they believed in, but none of them were cold-blooded killers.”
“And neither, it seems, am I,” said Uncle Hoole, suddenly stepping through the door.
“Uncle Hoole!” the Arrandas shouted together. “You’re all right!”
“Indeed,” Hoole replied, “although it was touch and go for a while. I make rather a suspicious character these days, it seems. Previously, I could use my credentials as an anthropologist to explain my travels. But now it hardly seems wise to mention my true name, since we’re all wanted by the Empire.”
Hoole explained that he’d managed to convince the Imperials that he and the two Arrandas were on a cultural field trip. Since he could prove he’d been at the Shroud working on the engines all morning, the rest of his story worked.
Tash tried to break in. “Uncle Hoole, there’s something we should tell you about Sh’shak…”
But Hoole was already heading toward his cabin. “I’m afraid it will have to wait until morning, Tash. I am quite weary from the questions, and I must consider how we can leave this planet safely, and soon.”
As he entered his room, he added, “There will be more questions in the morning. Thrawn has sent most of his men back to his Star Destroyer, but he is determined to find the murderer. We should all get some rest to prepare ourselves for more questioning tomorrow.”
Zak went to his cabin, shoved a pile of clothes, datacards, and his trusty skimboard off the bed, slipped into a sleep suit, and finally fell in a heap on the bunk. He’d gotten up early that morning, and he was tired. Their visit to S’krrr was turning into a nightmare. Now, even if they’d fixed the Shroud’s engines, Thrawn could keep them grounded until he found the killer.
Killer! Zak’s heart skipped a beat. In all the excitement, he’d forgotten about the shreev he killed. He’d forgotten to kill
thirty
beetles! Frantically, he tried to remember if the Imperials had killed any while they examined the body. Were the beetles just driven off, or were they crushed’? And if some were crushed, how many?
Zak groaned. “You blew it again, Zak Arranda.”
But then he tried to calm down. Missing one day couldn’t be that bad, could it? After all, he could always try to get sixty of the beetles tomorrow.
He nodded. That would do it. He’d simply catch up tomorrow. With that comforting thought, Zak drifted off to sleep.
He woke up hours later in the dark. Something was tickling his ear. He yawned. “Tash, stop it. Go away.”
Something tickled his ear again. “Tash, I don’t care who you want to spy on now, I’m staying in bed.” He opened his eyes.
Tash wasn’t there.
Tiny legs scampered across his cheek and scurried up into his hair. Slapping at it, Zak sat up and snapped on his cabin lights.
His bed was covered with drog beetles.
CHAPTER 8
A beetle jumped onto his hand and started to scramble up his sleeve. Another one landed right on the end of his nose, its wings still outstretched.
“Help!” Zak screamed. He threw off his bedcovers, sending a shower of beetles scattering around his room. Zak could hear the hard shells of the beetles clacking against the floor, and he felt their scratching claws pluck at his skin. He slapped at his arms and chest beneath his shirt.
The door to Zak’s room slid open. Tash and Hoole stood in the doorway. “Beetles!” Zak shouted. “They’re everywhere!” He saw a beetle scuttle across the floor and stepped on it-forgetting he wasn’t wearing shoes. There was a crack! as its shell was crushed, and then Zak felt squishy stuff spread across the bottom of his foot.
Tash didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in horror. The wriggling bugs reminded her of the horrible image of the murdered Imperial, but the sight of Zak dancing around his cabin scratching at his clothes was hilarious. “Zak, I thought we weren’t supposed to kill any drog beetles!”
“Tell them that!” he cried, plucking the last beetle from the inside of his shirt collar. He tossed it against the wall. The beetle thudded against the wall and fell to the cabin floor. Stunned, it turned first one way, then the other. By the time it started to scurry away, Zak had crushed it with the end of his skimboard.