The salesman frowned. “That ship? Oh, urn, well, as I said the other day, that ship hasn’t yet been overhauled. It’s not for sale yet.”
“But my master requires a ship immediately, and that is the only one we can buy with the money we’ve already paid.”
The salesman shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have to make a down payment on a more expensive one.”
Deevee accessed a particular memory file. “Sir, I was just thinking about the Tal Nami system.”
“Really? What about it?” the salesman asked.
“The Tal Nami have a very interesting culture. Their bodies need two foods to survive-the fruit of the egoa tree and the root of the capabara plant. But the two plants can’t grow in the same regions. So the Tal Nami of one region have to trade with the Tal Nami of another region for everyone to survive. In order to prevent the entire population from starving, they have developed a code of honor among traders. Each trader tries to make sure the other one gets the better end of the bargain. Since both sides are doing this, it assures a fair trade.”
“Fascinating,” the dealer yawned.
“Of course, any trader who is caught dealing unfairly is immediately punished. His feet are tied to the roots of an egoa tree, and his hands are tied to the branches of that same tree. The egoa tree grows at a rate of one meter per day. The result is gruesome, but the Tal Nami have an intense dislike of villainous traders. They will travel light-years to track one down. ” Deevee paused for effect. “Have you ever been to Tal Nami, sir?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Master Hoole has. Several times, to visit friends. Good friends. In fact I believe he plans to go there soon. I can only imagine what the Tal Nami would say if Master Hoole arrived in a ship foisted on him by an unscrupulous dealer.”
Meego swallowed. “Did you say they’d travel light-years to track down…”
“Yes, sir,” Deevee replied. “Light-years.”
Meego stared at Deevee, but it was impossible to tell if the droid were bluffing or not. Finally he shook his head. “Suit yourself, droid. I’d probably never get rid of this heap anyway. People would be afraid to buy it.
“Why is that?” Deevee asked.
“Too much bad history,” said the salesman. “Didn’t I mention it before? This ship is called the Shroud. It used to belong to that criminal, Dr. Evazan.”
Deevee opened the hatchway and let himself onboard. He was surprised at the sophisticated equipment inside. Evazan might have been an evil doctor, but he was obviously quite intelligent.
“Now you know I’m not supposed to do this,” Meego said. “It’s against regulations to sell used ships until the memory banks have been wiped. You never know what kind of personal information might get passed along.”
“That’s correct,” Deevee said. “You never do know.”
Deevee’s sophisticated brain buzzed with theories. If this was Evazan’s ship, maybe Zak had seen him onboard. Hadn’t Zak said that Evazan was carrying something away with him? Perhaps Evazan had come back to get some important information. Deevee wondered if he’d gotten it all.
He punched up the computer. “Hey, you’re not supposed to do that!” Meego protested.
Deevee looked at the salesman. “Do you recall the extra credits you tried to squeeze from me a few moments ago? Hand this ship over to me with the memory banks intact, and those credits are yours.”
Meego had never been one to care much for regulations, especially when there was profit to be made. “It’s a deal.”
A few minutes later, Deevee was alone, browsing through a library full of computer files. Some had been deleted, but many more were intact. Deevee’s photoreceptors skimmed across one startling title: “RE
ANIMATION OF DEAD TISSUE.”
Urgent alarms rattled Deevee’s program as he scanned the report. He was at first amazed at what he read-and then horrified as he saw the phrase “the use of cryptberries may enhance the reanimation process. They induce a state that imitates death, which will allow for further preparation of the body…”
A state that imitates death…
Deevee made the connection. “Zak!”
Deevee turned to go, but found his way was blocked.
Boba Fett had crept up behind him.
At the graveyard Tash and Uncle Hoole found the iron gates sealed shut. They could see the control panel on the inside wall through the bars, but it was much too far away for them to reach.
“Wait a moment,” Uncle Hoole said.
He closed his eyes. His skin started to wriggle and squirm across his body like it was alive. Then Hoole’s whole body began to twist and transform. In moments the Shi’ido had disappeared, and a Ranat-a small ratlike creature stood in its place. “I’ll be right back,” the Ranat said.