“Valadon could do it,” Obi-Wan pointed out.
He heard her breath hiss out between her teeth.
Obi-Wan hesitated by the tea table, pretending to finish his cup of tea. Siri sauntered across the room to Hue. Obi-Wan watched her over the rim of his cup.
He almost choked. The Siri he knew was gone. This Siri didn’t stride across the room. She… wafted. Something happened with her hips and her legs and her hair. He wasn’t sure what. He just knew that they moved differently. He just knew that whatever it was, it was female.
Siri locked her blue eyes on the Phlog’s face. “You are one tall specimen, even for a Phlog,” she said in a silky voice that was just as new to Obi-Wan. “You know, I always had a special thing for Phlogs. I feel so… protected when I’m around them.”
Hue didn’t blink, just kept dull dark eyes on Siri’s face. “As long as we’re on your side,” he said sharply.
She smiled. “Is that a threat? Oooh. I’d better be on my best behavior.”
Oooh? Did I just hear correctly? Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it.
“You seem to be doing all right,” the Phlog said. “I’ve always wanted my very own bodyguard,” Siri purred. “If you ever get tired of working here…”
“I’m tired of working here every day,” Hue said. “But I work where the pay is. Know what I mean?”
“Very wise. I so admire a practical male,” Siri cooed.
The slab of meat and muscle that was the Phlog looked suddenly as though his bones were made of crankcase oil. His hungry eyes followed Siri’s every move as she enticed him farther out of the room and down the hallway.
“Could you take just the teeniest moment and let me peek into the gallery?” she asked him. “I’d love to see more of the house.”
The Phlog followed Siri in her drifting shimmersilk as though he were attached by a string. Obi-Wan put down his teacup. The Phlog seemed smitten, but Obi-Wan doubted he had more than a minute.
He had been busy while chatting with Zan Arbor. He had practiced seeing without looking. He knew that the intricate and beautiful cabinetry concealed something. The joinery at the hinges and openings told him that.
He ran his fingers over the cabinet, calling on the Force to help his instinct, his vision, the very cells on his fingertips. He wished Anakin were here. Anakin’s Force connection never failed to astonish him, even in his ease with inanimate objects. Once Anakin had told him that Soara Antana, the great Jedi fighter, had taught him how to let walls speak to him. Since then, Anakin had seemed to be able to judge the space between molecules as well as the objects the molecules made up.
Obi-Wan knew that somewhere in this house was evidence that Zan Arbor was planning something. It was an instinct, based on knowledge of her. Greed drove her, of course, but also her ego. She was not the type to retire.
And when she had said, There is what I can imagine, and what actually lies ahead, what had she meant? At first he’d thought that she was referring to the fact that he could have been overstating the rewards of his plan. But now he didn’t think so. She was making a private reference to her own plans. Plans that would make his seem puny. That was the reason she had dismissed them.
Ah… there. Obi-Wan found the invisible seam. Another half second later, he found the catch. The cabinet opened silently, revealing a datapad, holofiles, corn-links - a concealed office.
He quickly pressed keys on the datapad. To his relief, not all the files were coded. He had so little time. He would have to start with the last file Zan Arbor had consulted. He keyed in the necessary steps. He, as well as Anakin, regularly kept up with the latest techniques from the tech expert at the Temple, Jedi Master Toma Hi’llani.
The holofile appeared in front of him. Communications from someone or some organization, merely identified with a random series of numbers that changed with every communication. A standard device for concealment.
He scanned it quickly. He could hear Siri’s voice now, heading back toward the reception room, pitched just a bit louder to warn him. He read quickly.
Safe houses arranged…
Officials to bribe have been contacted…
A start date must be decided on with care… Everything depends upon…
Obi-Wan whipped out his datapad and slipped in a miniature disk. It would take only a few seconds to copy the file.
“Oh, can’t I just peek into the kitchen? You can’t imagine how much I love to cook… no?” He could hear the playful petulance in Siri’s voice, almost see her mouth pursing in a pout.
Ten seconds to go…
“Now, where did Slam go? I thought he was right behind us. He’s probably still eating those sweets….” Five seconds…