[Last Of The Jedi] - 07(25)

Keets dug into his pocket and extricated the bag of sweets he’d bought from a vendor. He threw them into the air. “Have fun!”

The kids scattered, chasing the candy. Keets urged Lune forward. Curran flanked him, and they quickly hustled him out of the playground. They turned down the first street they came to, then the next, and the next, until they were lost in the crowd and they knew they hadn’t been followed.

They looked at each other over Lune’s head. It hardly mattered that they’d escaped. Lune had been noticed.





Chapter Fifteen


Ferus slipped back into the garrison and went to the quarters that had been assigned to him. He sat on the chair, thinking.

Conduits and modular components for artificial atmospheres on an unprecedented scale.

Ferus knew that artificial atmospheres could mean anything. It could be a small city or a large ship or a building. Was the Empire building a massive prison? New headquarters?

Not headquarters, Ferus thought. The Emperor had retooled the Senate to his liking. He had no need of new headquarters. And besides, such a project wouldn’t have to be secret.

… an unprecedented scale…

Ferus didn’t like the sound of that.

For the next three days, Ferus was escorted to the factory along with the scientists. Bellassan factories had always combined their research laboratories with their manufacturing facilities in the same compound, so the scientists already had some resources to begin. Ferus found himself with the menial tasks of checking off the delivery of various supplies to the labs, like dataports and durasheets. Since nothing classified had begun, reporters from the HoloNet were given free rein.

Ferus was along as a “facilitator,” meaning that he attended meetings where nothing much was decided in order to be in more news reports about the amazing Empire and what it could accomplish on Bellassa. Nowhere was it mentioned what the scientists would be working on, except in the vaguest terms.

At least in his position he was able to watch. He noted that Moff Tarkin often went into one particular office, where senior officers sat in front of computer consoles. He guessed they were setting up programs and organizational structures. A nervous-looking team of Bellassan architects were brought in, no doubt to “facilitate” the conversion.

Ferus tried to find a way to be alone with the scientists, but they were closely guarded. He could sense the misery of some of them, but he could tell that several others had volunteered for this mission. One scientist from Eriadu seemed especially eager to impress Tarkin. The sad-faced woman in the burgundy tunic kept to herself, but her misery was like a cloud around her.

Ferus’s only hope was to get into that room.

On the third afternoon, he was beginning to despair when, on his way to leave with a troop of officers, he saw the factory caretaker passing on a repulsorlift cart. Ferus made a small sign of acknowledgment, but the caretaker turned his head.

Puzzled at his reaction, Ferus walked out with the officers to the main docking bay. It was empty.

“The ship was supposed to be here waiting,” the senior officer said, annoyed. He took out his comlink. “What’s the status on the transport back to the garrison?” he barked.

“There was a shutdown on all air traffic while they made the trial run of supply ships for the Despayre run,” a voice said.

“Get a ship here now!” the officer ordered testily.

Despayre. Ferus had heard that name before, when he’d been at the Imperial prison planet in the Outer Rim. The prisoners had worked in a huge factory. They never knew what they were working on, but he’d discovered that the parts were being shipped to a facility on Despayre.

It was too much of a coincidence. Was it a piece of the puzzle?

Ferus’s gaze wandered over to the translucent doors at one end of the platform. They opened into the deserted garden.

“I’ll wait in there,” he told the officer, who grimaced but nodded.

Ferus waved his hand over the sensor and walked into the garden. In a moment, another door opened, and, just as he’d hoped, the caretaker entered. He didn’t glance at Ferus but immediately put down his tools and knelt down to weed around a grouping of tender plants.

“I’m glad they let you keep the garden,” Ferus said, coming up behind him.

The caretaker didn’t look up. “They? Seems to me you’re one of them now.”

Ferus couldn’t miss the contempt in the man’s tone.

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” the caretaker continued, his hands in the soil as he carefully pulled out a weed. “Now I know who you are. You fought them and defied them and made them look like fools. And now you’re one of them.”