Or rather, tried to. Even as she swung the leg up she heard another whisper of sound, and a band suddenly grabbed her waist sash, tugging her backward and forcing her to bring her leg back down to maintain her balance. “Do not do this,” a gravelly catlike voice mewed softly from behind her.
“Le’ me go,” Shada moaned, letting go of the lattice with her left band and slapping ineffectually at his arm. “Le’ me go. He doesn’ care bout me-he sai’ so. He doesn’ wan’ me anymore. Le’ me go.”
“This is not the way,” the Noghri said, pulling her gently but firmly. “Come inside and we will speak.”
“Done wi’ talking,” Shada muttered, half turning to look down at him and making sure he could smell the whiskey on her breath as she threw a quick glance over the rooftop. No one else was visible. “Please-he’ me go,” she pleaded, grabbing the lattice again with her left hand and pulling upward against his grip. “Please.”
“No,” the Noghri repeated, pulling back with more strength than she would have thought a creature that small could manage. Her fingers strained against the pull&mdash
And without warning she let go, spinning halfway around as she fell straight at him.
The Noghri was fast, all right By the time she’d rotated far enough around to see him he’d already moved a step to the side to get out of her way. His free arm came up, ready to catch her shoulders and break her fall&mdash
And as she fell into that wiry grip, her band jabbed hard into the side of his throat. Without a sound, his legs buckled beneath him and they collapsed together onto the rooftop.
For a few seconds she lay there, still sobbing drunkenly, her eyes darting around the rooftop for signs of a backup. But the Noghri was apparently up here alone.
Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t checked in before rushing off to save the despondent drunk bent on self-destruction. If be had, she didn’t have much time. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have much more.
Stripping off the dress that had concealed her combat jumpsuit, keeping one eye on the turbolift door, she set to work.
***
Karrde turned his glass around in his band, his eyes on the remains of his drink as it swirled partway up the side in response to the movement. “You’re sure about all this,” he said.
“I’m sure,” Lando said positively. “I searched through what we’ve got of the old Imperial archives and found every recording they had of Thrawn. There wasn’t much, but it definitely looked and sounded like the man I saw.”
“Which doesn’t mean it couldn’t be a trick,” Han put in, throwing a surreptitious look at Leia. If Karrde’s attitude was all an act-if he was secretly behind this Thrawn sighting of Lando’s-then she ought to have pulled the proof of that from his mind by now.
But her face had the same grim expression that had been there when Lando first started his story; and even as he watched, her eyes shifted to his and she shook her head microscopically in response to his unspoken question.
Han had thought they were being subtle enough. Apparently not. “I take it I’m under some suspicion here,” Karrde continued, still studying his glass. “And not just from the Ishori and their allies. Have I passed the test?”
Han looked at Leia again in time to see her lip twitch. “I’m sorry,” she said. “For whatever it’s worth, I had no doubts myself.”
“Thank you.” Karrde smiled slightly at Han and Lando. “I won’t embarrass either of you by asking if you shared the Councilor’s confidence.”
“I don’t like taking anything for granted,” Han told him. “It’s not like you’ve ever sworn allegiance to the New Republic or anything.”
Karrde inclined his head, “You’re right, of course. My apologies.”
He shifted his gaze to Lando. “All right, then. Let’s begin with the assumption we’re all hoping is true: namely, that you were the victim of a clever trick. First question: how was it done?”
“Shouldn’t be all that hard,” Han said. “Some facial surgery to make this guy look like Thrawn, then just add in some skin, hair, and eye coloring.”
“Facial surgery usually leaves distinctive marks,” Lando pointed out. “I know what to look for, and they weren’t there. Besides, what about the voice?”
What about the voice?” Han asked. “Voices can be faked, too, you know. We did it ourselves with Threepio once, remember?”
“If the voice was really that accurate, it could have been a human replica droid,” Karrde suggested. “Like the one Prince Xizor of Black Sun used to have.”