It wasn’t so bad. In fact, he just felt a little stiff around his lower back, as if he’d been digging. Maybe he’d acted out that nightmare.
He bounced on his heels a few times to see what happened. There was no pain. He didn’t even feel that nausea that had been so routine, he’d forgotten what it felt like to wake up without it.
Apart from running a temperature, he felt better than he had in daysmonths, in fact. He was alive. He wouldn’t believe he was in the clear until the nerf-doctor came back with the test results, but he knew something fundamental had changed.
So you didn’t poison me, Jaing.
He went to the refresher to shower, if a torrent of cold water from an overhead cistern could be called that, and shaved with an ancient fixed blade that nicked his chin. Where the Sarlacc’s acid hadn’t left smooth, glossy scar tissue, there was still stubble to tackle, and these days most of it was pure white and hard to see. He shaved twice a day anyway. These were the unguarded, naked times when he allowed himself to think of Ailyn and other painful things, because he had to look himself in the eye, and he wasn’t a liar. Lying wasn’t just bad; it was stupid. Lying to yourself was the most stupid thing of all.
And now that he wasn’t so preoccupied with his own death, he could think about the deaths of others. There was a lot of unfinished business. He’d start with Ailyn.
She was a stranger when I opened that body bag. A middle-aged woman. Not lovely like her mother. Old before her time, exhausted, dead. And still my baby, my little girl. I don’t care if you tried to kill me. I really don’t.
Killing was his trade. He didn’t enjoy it, and he didn’t dread it. The only person whose death he knew would make him feel good and not just competent was Jacen Solo.
Better that you rot than die. I can wait. Thanks for motivating me to survive.
I’m back.
Fett checked his face in the mirror for missed beard, double-checked with his fingertips, then lowered his helmet over his head. The world became sharp and fully comprehensible again with all the extra senses built into his armor. At a time when other men had failing eyesight and unreliable hearing, Fett could see through solid walls and eavesdrop kilometers away. There was a lot to be said for smart tech. He flexed his fingers in his gauntlets, finally feeling complete and girded against the world.
Yes, I really am back.
He rode the speeder bike into Keldabe and hammered on the doors of the vet’s surgery. She had her name on a durasteel plate: HAYCA MEKKET.
A man leaned out of the open upper window, looking bleary-eyed, and stared down at Fett. He disappeared again. “Sweetness,” he bellowed. “It’s your special patient.”
The vet appeared at the window. “I suppose I’ve got to open early, especially for you.”
“Haven’t you got any letters after your name?”
“Nerfs can’t read. Why bother?”
“Got my results?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“The cell degeneration’s stopped. But the lab tech over on Dawn said we shouldn’t breed from you.” Somehow she was easier to deal with than Beluine. “You know that needle was for banthas?”
“Felt like it.”
“You’re a hard man, Fett. I’m glad you’re not dead.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“A quilt. A nice, thick red one.”
Fett went back to Slave I and caught up with the news. Murkhana and Roche were heading for a showdown: it was a good opportunity to show what a single Bes’uliik could do, if the Verpine wanted to invoke the treaty.
Fierfek, I did it again. I’m going to live.
If nothing else went wrong, he’d have another thirty years, maybe more. Most people would have been overjoyed at the reprieve. But Fett found he was actually glad that he’d come so close to death again, because it had a way of sharpening him up and making him think harder. He liked the risk; he liked beating the odds.
I suppose I should tell Mirta.
Now he felt he could ask her what Ailyn had taught her over the years to make her hate him so much. What he really wanted to know, though, was where Ailyn had learned her hatred. Most kids from divorces didn’t pursue a homicidal feud across half a galaxy.
But it could wait an hour or so while he had a decent breakfast.
He’d enjoy it today. He was going to live.
chapter seventeen
I find it interesting that Taun We has never held it against Fett for attacking Kamino. Either he’s her favorite unfinished project, or there’s something else we don’t know.
Jaing Skirata, musing on the motives of Kaminoans
LON SHEVU’S APARTMENT, PORT QUARTER, CORUSCANT