THE HUTT GAMBI(117)

“Whatever,” Greelanx said. He hesitated, then said, “I didn’t believe you could do it, you know. Even with the battle plan.”

“I know,” Han said. “But it was that or die. We were fighting for our lives. You were fighting for credits. Makes a big difference.” “That holo-illusion was a brilliant tactical stroke.” Han smiled and executed a slight bow. “Thank you.” Greelanx seemed taken aback.

“You did it?” “No, I had an expert do it. But it was my idea.”

“Ah.” The admiral seemed to consider for a moment, then said, with a trace of wistfulness, “You despise me, don’t you, young man?”

Han stared at him in surprise. “Not at all. I do lots of things I’m not tickled about for credits.”

“But there are some things you will not do.” Han considered. “Yeah, that’s true.” “Well, I—” Greelanx broke off as the door suddenly opened, and his aide stood there, eyes wide and frightened. “Admiral!

Sir!”

“What is it?” Greelanx was annoyed.

“Sir, I was just advised by the docking-bay crew … he has just landed.

An unscheduled inspection, apparently. He is on his way to speak with you at this moment!”

Greelanx took a deep breath, then waved the man out. “I suppose I should have anticipated this, under the circumstances,” he muttered, racing over to the wall. Behind a Certificate of Merit, there was a wall lockup unit.

Greelanx stood for a moment, letting the unit scan his retinas. The door swung open. The admiral grabbed a double handful of jewels, raced over, dumped them in, then came back and brushed the last of the gems into his palm, dumped them, too.

While all this was going on, Han was standing there, totally bemused by the admiral’s actions.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“No time,” Greelanx said, shutting the lockup. “Here, you’ll have to wait in here. You can’t let him see you. If he did—” The admiral bit his lip, yanked open the other door, the one leading to his secretary’s office.

The room was vacant, dark. “In here. Don’t make a sound. Not a sound, understand?”

“No,” Han said, totally confused. “I don’t.”

Greelanx did not bother to reply. Grabbing Han’s arm, he shoved him into the office, then shut the door.

Han stood there in the dark office, wondering what in blazes was going on.

Who was he? It sounded like Greelanx was expecting some kind of monster out of a kid’s adventure tridee!

Half-tempted to storm back out and just say “good riddance,” Han tiptoed over to the door. The doorseal, he discovered, hadn’t quite caught. He was able to hear Greelanx moving around, and then came some small thumps and rustles.

Putting his desk back to rights, Han realized.

Then came a squeak, as Greelanx sat back down in his luxurious lizard-hide chair. Han could almost picture him, being elaborately casual.

The doorseal to the outer office hissed. Han heard a heavy, measured tread and the whisper of something that might have been fabric. Was the newcomer wearing long robes? A cloak?

Then came another sound that the Corellian recognized—loud, stentorian breathing, respirations that were artificially stimulated because the wearer was unable to breathe on his own. A respirator mask … the visitor was wearing a respirator mask.

Somehow the sounds of those loud, hissing breaths was ominous. Han swallowed and didn’t make a sound.

Greelanx said, in a deliberately bright, pleasant tone that was supposed to sound casual, but instead sounded terrified, “Lord, what an unexpected pleasure! The Outer Rim is honored by your presence. I gather you wish to conduct an inspection. You must understand that we have just recently been engaged in battle, so—” “Greelanx,” said a deep, mechanically enhanced voice that made Han’s skin crawl, “you are as stupid as you are greedy. Did you imagine that the High Command would remain unaware of your treachery?”

Now Greelanx made no attempt to hide his fear. “Lord, please! You don’t understand, I was ord—” His voice broke off in a choked cry.

Han’s eyes widened, and he wouldn’t have opened that door into Greelanx’s office for all the dragon pearls in the galaxy.

Silence, except for that loud, harsh breathing. Silence, for many seconds.

Then … a heavy thump as something landed on the thick carpet. The voice said, “Ah, but I understand perfectly, Admiral.”

The heavy footsteps came again, passed the door where Han was hiding, did not pause. Then came the sound of the doorseal activating.

Silence.

Han waited a good five minutes before he dared to unseal the door and peer out. He wasn’t particularly surprised to find Greelanx sprawled on the carpet. He checked for a pulse, found none, which also wasn’t surprising.