“I think you look… incredible,” Siri said. But her mouth was twitching, as she couldn’t keep it in any longer. She burst out into a peal of laughter.
It was impossible for Anakin and Ferus not to join in.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at them. “So glad to amuse.”
Then he reached into another closet. They heard the soft sound of rustling septsilk. Obi-Wan tossed a garment at Siri. It was made of a soft blue clinging material, and there wasn’t much of it. “There you go, Valadon.”
Siri looked at the piece of clothing. “Where’s the rest of it?”
Obi-Wan grinned. “I’m afraid that’s it.”
“I’m not going to wear this.” Holding it between her thumb and forefinger, Siri tossed the tiny garment away with distaste.
Obi-Wan’s expression was bland as he retrieved it. “Don’t be such a stick-in-the-swamp. Don’t you want to catch Zan Arbor?”
Grimly, Siri pulled the robe over her tunic and leather leggings. Obi-Wan burst out laughing at the sight of the feminine, flowing garment haphazardly flung over Siri’s rough clothes. “I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to wear it.”
Siri gritted her teeth. “We’re not on Romin yet.”
Still chuckling, Obi-Wan reached into the closet and tossed out more conventional garments for Anakin and Ferus, dark tunics and trousers.
“Anakin, you’ll be Waldo, and Ferus will be Ukiah,” Obi-Wan said. “You fit the descriptions, roughly. Waldo is the security expert, and Ukiah is weapons and defense. Anakin, you’ll need a headgear disguise, since you’ve seen Zan Arbor recently. I think that should be enough.”
Obi-Wan pulled a half mask from his knapsack. “I got this from the med clinic at the Temple. It’s used to knit synth-flesh together after an injury. We can tell people you were wounded in the escape, if they ask. Try it.”
Anakin pulled on the mask. It fit over his forehead and covered half his face, leaving his mouth and chin uncovered. There were holes cut for his eyes, with tinted lenses. It was made of a slippery fiber, and it felt cool against his skin.
He was glad to have something to hide behind. He remembered Zan Arbor’s penetrating gaze, the sense that she wanted to explore his mind, figure out the essence of him. He didn’t want Zan Arbor to know who he was. He didn’t want to get close to the person who could create the Zone of Self-Containment. He still wasn’t positive how the Zone was transmitted. He suspected it had been through water. That was something that Zan Arbor had perfected. Anakin never wanted to be under its influence again.
Was he wrong to think there had been some sort of connection between him and Zan Arbor? He hadn’t told Obi-Wan about that. She had sensed there was something different about him. He had intrigued her. Even though he’d been in the Zone, he had sensed that this woman had made an impression on him he wouldn’t forget. And he had made an impression on her. What if she recognized him again?
Obi-Wan was speaking, and Anakin wrenched his attention back to his Master. “I met Zan Arbor very briefly almost eighteen years ago. She won’t recognize me.”
Siri wrapped her utility belt around the soft blue robe. “Question. What if we meet someone on Romin who’s met the Slams before?”
“Not probable,” Obi-Wan said. “The Slams operated in a different corner of the galaxy. Their reputation is big, but they didn’t travel very far. It’s a risk we’ll have to take.”
Obi-Wan’s comlink signaled. It was Tyro, and Obi-Wan put him in holomode so the rest could view the communication.
Tyro flickered before them in miniature form. “I’ve received my answer from the authorities,” he said. “I did my best, Obi-Wan. But I could persuade them to agree to keep the Slams’ arrest secret for only three standard days. After that it will be posted on the HoloNet news. I’m sorry. You’ll have to complete your mission in that time.” Tyro looked worried. “Is three days enough?”
“Most likely not,” Obi-Wan said. “But it will have to do.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The Teda Landing Platform on Romin was high in the clouds above the capital city of Eliior. It was the only arrival station for the area. Nevertheless, it wasn’t crowded. Anakin guided the ship down to the nearly empty platform.
“Not much business or tourism going on here,” Obi-Wan observed. “The planet’s economy runs on bribes paid to Teda.”
“That means that the only one getting rich is Teda,” Siri said.
Anakin released the ramp control. Siri strode down in front of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was amused by the contrast between Siri’s purposeful, athletic stride and the lilac shimmersilk robe she now wore. It was tied with a rose-colored sash embroidered in delicate gold thread, but over the sash Siri had insisted on wearing her battered utility belt. Siri would do her best, she’d promised, but Obi-Wan had his doubts that she would be able to summon up Valadon’s trademark flirtatiousness. It was good that this mission would be short.