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[Galaxy Of Fear] - 09(12)

By:John Whitman


“Very well,” Jerec said. He turned to his stormtroopers. “Disable this station’s comlink antenna. No one is allowed to send messages from this lifeless rock. Then stand guard over all the ships.” He smiled cruelly. “No one is allowed on or off this asteroid until I have examined that tunnel.”

“What do you think he wants?” Zak whispered to Tash.

They were sitting in what must have been the mining

facility’s entertainment room. There was a hologame board, several vidscreens, and shelves full of holodisks. Tash and Zak hadn’t touched any of them. Instead, they’d settled in front of a small computer. Tash was riffling through its files.

None of the Imperials were in the room. Jerec had accepted Uncle Hoole’s story, which was mostly true anyway, that they’d been on their way to the planet Bespin when they’d stopped at Ithor for supplies. The Imperial had seemed more interested in relaying messages to his Star Destroyer, which was hovering just outside the asteroid field. With his mind focused on other things, Jerec had hardly paid any attention to them at all.

Even though no Imperials were in sight, Tash whispered anyway. “I don’t know. He talks like he knows what’s behind that door. And he wants it.”

“Then it can’t be good,” her brother said.

“I agree,” Hoole said. The Shi’ido had sneaked up on them again, giving Zak and Tash a start.

“Uncle Hoole!” Zak said, clutching his heart. “You know, you’re almost as scary as that Jerec.”

“Do you know anything about him?” Tash asked. “I mean, is he human? Why does he wear that black band over his eyes?”

“And those tattoos on his face,” Zak said. “Are they natural, or did someone put them there?”

Hoole shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with Jerec. He appears human, but I suspect he is not. My guess is that blindness is natural to his species. However, this is no time to question him about his origin.”

Hoole pointed to the screen. “Besides, I came to ask questions, not answer them. I thought I would find you at a computer, Tash. Have you had any luck finding information?”

Tash sighed and admitted, “No. The miners did a lot of research about Ithor when they built this place. The records go back thousands of years. There are records for almost every herd ship, every day, for two thousand years. I can tell you almost anything you would want to know about Ithor. But there’s nothing about this asteroid.”

“Do you get the feeling Fandomar knows more than she’s saying?” Zak asked. “She was awfully quiet while we were trying to figure out how to get out of the tunnel.”

Tash nodded. “Yeah, I noticed that, too. But I don’t think she knew about the trap. There’s no way she’d do anything to hurt us.”

“Why not?” Zak asked.

“The Law of Life, remember? Fandomar wouldn’t hurt a Circarpousian swamp fly, let alone another sentient being,” Tash said.

“Maybe she’s decided to break the law,” Zak suggested. “Her husband’s an outlaw, after all.”

Hoole nodded. “Jerec mentioned Fandomar’s husband, Momaw Nadon. She said he was exiled from Ithor. Can you find out what he did?”

Tash nodded. “Already did. According to the records, the Ithorians know a lot about gene-splicing.”

“Is that like making clones?” Zak asked.

“Not exactly,” Hoole replied. “Clones are exact copies. In gene-splicing, scientists combine the genes of many different life-forms to make a new one.”

Tash continued, “Apparently the Ithorians kept their knowledge to themselves. Momaw Nadon was a High Priest, so he knew all about that stuff. Some Imperial wanted this secret knowledge and forced Momaw to tell him. Even though Momaw did it to save lives, the Ithorians banished him for revealing their secrets.” ‘

“That is not prime,” Zak muttered. “Gene-splicing. Imperials,” Hoole muttered. He wrinkled his dark brow. He looked as if he were trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle. “Tash, you said there was a record for almost every day. Is something missing?”

His niece nodded. “There’s a gap in the records. For almost a hundred years, nothing is recorded. Then the records start again without mentioning the missing time.”

“Curious,” Hoole mused. “Perhaps-“

But he was interrupted by one of the stormtroopers, who stomped into the room and growled, “Time to go.”

In the docking bay, under the stormtrooper’s watchful eye, Hoole and the two Arrandas slipped into their spacesuits. Jerec, already dressed in a protective suit, waited impatiently.