The Council believed that Anakin was ready for more independence, but no doubt they had chosen Ferus as a counterbalance. His stability would keep Anakin’s impulsiveness in check.
Or so they believed.
Obi-Wan watched the cruiser shoot into a space-lane, suddenly reverse engines, and drop into a lane several levels below between an airspeeder and an air taxi with barely a millimeter to spare. Obi-Wan shook his head ruefully. There was no doubt in his mind that Anakin had suggested the close maneuver just to annoy Ferus.
He was glad Mace Windu had not seen it.
He watched the cruiser until it disappeared into the dusk. Yes, the Council was wise. Wiser than him. No doubt about that. Yet he knew his Padawan better than the Council, and his uneasiness gathered within him, as dark and heavy as the coming storm.
CHAPTER THREE
Andara was a beautiful world, lush and green with a temperate climate, tracts of wilderness, and wealthy cities. The Leadership School was on the outskirts of its capital city of Utare. The campus of the school took in rolling hills, green fields, and a lake. The grounds were ringed with an electro-charged security wall with observation towers and a particle shield. Roving surveillance droids made circuits of the property. Electrobars covered the windows. Rich children usually attracted bounty hunters and other threats; the school meant to keep them out.
Anakin gazed behind him at the city buildings of Utare as they passed through the security checkpoint. He felt as though he were saying goodbye to freedom and entering a prison. Although there was security at the Temple, he never felt or saw its presence; he just felt safe.
Once they were inside the school and had received their class and room assignments, the feeling of oppression was meant to lift. The Leadership School was like a separate world. In many ways, it was more like a grand hotel than a place of learning.
It was built with gray stone imbedded with chunks of rare minerals that glinted blue and rose in the light. Costly woods were used for counters and desks. Each student had his or her own small but luxurious quarters. Expert chefs prepared the food. The students had extensive exercise equipment and five pools of varying depths and temperatures. Everything was arranged for their comfort. It was very different from the Temple. The Temple was both grand and simple at the same time. Here, luxury was everywhere.
“If the body is pampered, the mind is free to concentrate,” Professor Aeradin told them as they toured the compound. He was an assistant dean and had been assigned to them for orientation. He was tall and thin, with a narrow head and four antennae that quivered when he grew excited. He was obviously proud of the school, and his antennae rarely stopped dancing.
But despite the teacher’s enthusiasm and the gleaming hallways, Anakin felt a steady pulse underneath it all that leadened the atmosphere with dread.
“Can you feel it?” he asked Ferus as they made their way to their rooms.
Ferus nodded. “Fear.”
Anakin said goodbye and opened the door to his small but exquisite suite. The sleep couch was piled with thick soft covers and a long counter held a variety of the latest tech learning devices.
All of the luxury was nice, he had to admit, but it made him uncomfortable. He liked simple things. And the luxury did not disguise the lack of freedom. The students were subject to strict security regulations. They could not leave the complex without authorization. The parents of the students paid a small fortune in order to ensure their children’s safety. Security had been stepped up since Gillam’s disappearance. Random checks were conducted and the whereabouts of the students had to be known at all times. Roving security droids zipped through the hallways, their cams constantly sweeping the air.
Yet Anakin knew these students did not feel safe here. The heavy surveillance didn’t bother them. They welcomed it. Daughters and sons of privilege, they were used to constant attention. One of them had disappeared without warning. They all felt the chill of Gillam’s absence.
He wasn’t accustomed to keeping a low profile, but he tried to slip unnoticed through the halls as he went through the first few days of classes. He decided that his best strategy would be to cloak his abilities as much as possible. The more invisible he was, the more freedom he would have to examine others.
Slowly, he began to find it strange and liberating to be just another student. From the moment he had arrived at the Temple, he was whispered about. As the “Chosen One,” the other students had kept an eye on his progress. Some were envious, some polite, some friendly, and some steered clear of him completely. But everyone noticed him. It was something that had been difficult for him in the beginning, but he had gotten used to it. Obi-Wan had told him that it was the best preparation for being a Jedi. He had to learn to screen out what others thought or speculated. He had to concentrate on his own path.