Vantos’ tube car finally reached its destination at the Palace Visitor Center. He disembarked with a small crowd of people and walked warily out amongst the news and propaganda screens, the holographic tour advertisements, and the statues of the first leaders of the Empire. Palpatine’s statue was among the latter, sculpted in white marble and made to show him as a young man. Boda ignored the automated tourist help stations and headed for the corridor marked: To the Grand Corridor. His eyes shifted nervously as he watched for Palace Guards or stormtroopers to notice and approach him. If he had been reported to the Emperor, then surely his arrest was imminent. At stake was how Vantos would spend the remaining time before his death. Would he be free to try to find the Emperor, or would he be held prisoner by a guard until the explosions started? He wanted to be there with Palpatine when the Palace collapsed, so he could be sure the Emperor died.
Boda kept walking, trying to look inconspicuous among the other tourists. It was not easy; the others all appeared more wealthy than Vantos. The crowd he was following moved onto a transparisteel walkway between two towers of the Palace. Standing in the middle of this bridge, he could look up at the incredible slope of the main body of the Palace. He looked high, past level upon level of blazing lights, to the very top of the pyramid. Up there, open to the sky, was a row of hanging gardens that went all the way around the perimeter. Several levels down was another garden, also extending around all four sides of the Palace. Below that, another garden, and so on down the outside of the structure. The gardens formed a series of concentric squares when viewed from above. Each one contained generous amounts of Phelarion moss. These outer gardens would be the first to explode. From the gardens inward, Boda had grown his organic weapon on every level, at the bases of statues, around indoor trees, among stones in decorative natural displays, next to flower beds, and on multilevel fountains. In addition, there were hidden quantities of the organism, packed into forgotten storerooms where only Vantos tended them. These deposits formed the basis for a chain reaction of explosions that would occur as the fires spread inwards.
Boda had planned for the destruction to spread downwards as well. One of his commands to the mirror pilot was to move the energy beam down the side of the Palace, detonating more garden levels and setting off more chain reactions. If all went as planned, the Palace was going to fall in on itself like an imploding wedding cake.
Vantos squinted as he stared through the lights of the Palace, looking for the beam of light and heat from the mirror. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there. It would be narrowed and trained on the top garden levels, providing the heat to initiate the exothermic reaction. Vantos imagined the moss beginning to stiffen and darken to brown, as the heat was concentrated on it.
He suddenly looked around him, and was disconcerted to find the transparent bridge empty except for himself. The other tourists had moved on, and Boda felt vulnerable in his solitude. Uneasy, he hurried along the bridge and down the hall leading to the Grand Corridor itself. As he moved briskly along, he saw no other tourists, nor did he see any Palace staff. His discomfort grew when he realized that he could hear his own footsteps in the silence. The constant background noise of the complex had dwindled away, and he had not noticed it while he daydreamed about the explosives. Gone were the murmuring voices, the intercom calls, and the tramp of feet. A chill settled over Vantos as he walked the last few steps to the entryway to the Grand Corridor.
As he emerged into the vast thoroughfare, his suspicions were realized. The Grand Corridor was empty. It was a trap, set for him by the Emperor. Palpatine was expecting him after all.
Normally, the Grand Corridor should have been teeming with people. The hour of the day was irrelevant. One could find, at any time, info-runners, bureaucrats, advisors, diplomats, ambassadors, droids, administrators, dignitaries, stormtroopers, Royal Guards, and tourists filling the enclosed canyon in the thousands. Now, the kilometers long hall stood vacant. No one moved beneath the uncounted banners representing every world in the Empire. The promenade balcony level was deserted, and the gray granite pillars were the only things standing as far as Vantos could see.
Even so…he could sense life all around him, hidden and silent. The Emperor’s Royal Guard, perhaps? Boda hesitated in the doorway. He knew it was a giant snare, but did that matter? He was still going where he wanted to go. In fact, the Emperor was making it easier for him. Palpatine must want him very badly, Vantos realized. But for what?
Setting his jaw, Vantos stepped out into the corridor and began to walk purposefully along it. His footsteps sent waves of color through the vibration sensitive Ch’hala trees as he went by them, but each tree settled back to inactivity when he was past. Vantos marched towards the main public throne room, where he predicted the Emperor would be. It was a symbol of Palpatine’s authority, and it was a main destination from the Grand Corridor. Up on the balconies, he sensed the watchful eyes of hidden guards looking down on him. He suspected they would do nothing, so long as he walked along the intended path, so he took their noninterference for confirmation of his goal. The guards also meant that there would be no retreat; he was in the trap, and so be it. The Emperor did not know that Vantos had set a trap of his own, and by the time he realized it, it would be too late.