[Jedi Apprentice] - 16(8)

Suddenly a loud clatter came from behind him. The blind woman had upset her chair, then the one next to her. She began to try to right them, getting in the way of another patient. An argument began.

“Stop, stop! This is a clinic! What are you doing? Don’t touch that! Don’t move!” Vero hurried around the counter, upset at the commotion.

With a keen gaze, Qui-Gon saw the woman deliberately upset a flower vase.

“Not my ginkas!” Vero screamed, diving for the flowers.

She was doing it for him, Qui-Gon knew. She was giving him a little time.

He reached over the counter and swiveled Vero’s datascreen to face him. Quickly, he clicked in Oleg’s name. To his relief, his records showed up. Oleg had given an address close to the clinic. His next appointment was in two weeks.

Qui-Gon quickly swiveled the datascreen back into position. He walked past Vero, who was picking up flowers and scolding the woman for upsetting them. Qui-Gon righted a chair and gave a hand to the woman to help her sit down. He bent close to her ear. “Thanks for your help.”

“You know when to give help, and when not to,” she said. “That’s rare.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Qui-Gon walked out quickly. The door slid shut behind him, sealing off the commotion. He had memorized the address and remembered the street, which he’d passed on the way to the clinic. Qui-Gon quickly made his way there.

The address was a small hotel. Qui-Gon asked for Oleg and was told he had checked out, but to try the cafŠ around the corner. A bit surprised that Oleg was not more discreet, Qui-Gon headed to the cafŠ.

The owner was wiping down tables in the front. Qui-Gon asked for Oleg and was directed to a table in the rear.

A slight, blond man sat at the table, his hands curled around a cup of juice. Qui-Gon sat down opposite him.

“It’s about time,” Oleg said nervously. “I’ve put myself in danger every minute.”

“I got here as soon as I could,” Qui-Gon said. Obviously, Oleg had been waiting for someone he did not know. That explained why he hadn’t bothered to use an assumed name. It was just as apparent to Qui-Gon that this young man was not used to dealing with danger. His head constantly swiveled, looking for trouble. Anyone looking for him would have picked him out immediately.

“I have the file,” Oleg said. “It’s not on me, but it’s not far. But I’m warning you, if you try anything, I’m prepared to shoot. I have to up the price.”

“Why?” Qui-Gon asked. He would play this out. He assumed, of course, that Oleg was talking about the list. He didn’t want to buy it from him. If Oleg still had it, that meant that Balog didn’t.

“I have to leave the planet,” Oleg said, wiping his wet forehead with his napkin. “Do you think this is easy? Too many people are searching for me now.”

“I might be able to come up with more,” Qui-Gon said.

“Decide now,” Oleg snapped. “I have no time to waste.” His comlink signaled, and he listened for a moment. With his eyes on Qui-Gon, he replied, “Yes, that’s right. I still have it. Will you meet my price? Good. I’ll meet you there, then. Can’t you make it earlier? All right.”

He shut off the comlink. “There are others who will pay, as you see,” he said. “I made an appointment, but you can buy it first. So decide. It’s now or never.”

“Never,” Qui-Gon said. “The price is just too high. Sorry.” He stood.

Oleg looked even more nervous. “Listen, I don’t have to sell to this guy. I don’t like him. He’s an Absolute, and I hate them. They ruined my health. I’d rather the list end up with a Worker, believe me. I look like a traitor, but I’m just looking out for myself. Maybe we can negotiate.”

“Sorry,” Qui-Gon said again. He turned and left the cafŠ. He positioned himself out of sight of Oleg, but was able to see him through the reflection of the cafŠ window. Was the bidder on the comlink Balog? He had a strong feeling it was. Oleg had broken out into a sweat. And he had said he didn’t want the list in the hands of the Absolutes.

Qui-Gon was close now. He could feel it. All his concentration was centered on that slight, nervous man in the cafŠ. The anger and grief he had compressed into a burning ball inside him threatened to flame up, and he tamped it down. Patience, he chided himself. Balog would be his very soon.





CHAPTER 6


Qui-Gon did not think it possible that a being could nurse a glass of juice as long as Oleg. He did not seem to notice the surly stare of the cafŠ owner, or the press of customers who came in, looking for a table as the cafŠ grew crowded.