THE PARADISE SNARE(13)

The R2 unit’s lights flashed as the machine contemplated this revelation.

Finally, it said: “But I did not know you were on board, sir. I cannot be held responsible for your death.”

“Oh, no.” Han shook his head inside his helmet. “It doesn’t work that way, R2. If you know about this situation and do nothing, then you will be causing the death of a sentient being. Is that what you want?”

“No,” the droid said. Even its artificial tones sounded faintly strained, and its lights flickered rapidly and erratically.

“Then it follows,” Han continued inexorably, “that you must do whatever you can to prevent my death. Right?”

“I … I …” The droid was quivering now in agitation. “Sir, I am constrained from assisting you. My programming is in conflict with my hardware.”

“What do you mean?” Han was worried now. If the little droid overloaded and went dead, he’d never be able to access the manual “diagnostic” controls that he knew had to be in these panels somewhere. They’d be tiny, something for the techs to use to test the robot drone’s autopilot. “My programming is constraining me from informing you …”

Han took one huge stride over to the little droid and knelt in front of it. “Blast you!” He pounded his fist on top of the droid’s clear dome.

“I’ll die! Tell me!”

The droid rocked agitatedly, and Han wondered if it would simply fall apart with the strain. But then it said, “I have been fitted with a restraining bolt, sir! It prevents me from complying with your request!”

A restraining bolt?” Han seized on this bit of information with alacrity.

Let’s see, where is it?

After a moment he spotted it, low down on the droid’s metal carapace.

He reached down, grasped it, and tugged.

Nothing. The bolt didn’t move.

Han gripped harder, tried twisting. He grunted with effort, really sweating now, imagining he could feel those molecules of oxygen running out in a steady stream. He’d heard that hypoxia wasn’t an especially bad way to die–compared to explosive decompression or being shot, for example—but he had no desire to find out firsthand.

The bolt didn’t move. Han tried harder, jerking at it, swearing in half a dozen alien tongues, but the stubborn thing didn’t budge.

Got to find something I can hit it with, Han thought, glancing wildly around the control cabin. But there was nothing—not a hydrospanner, a wrench—nothing!

Suddenly he remembered the blaster. He’d left it on the floor in his little cubicle. “Wait right here,” Han instructed the R2 unit, and then he was squeezing back through the narrow corridors.

Shooting a blaster inside a spaceship—even an unpressurized spaceship—wasn’t a good idea, but he was desperate.

Han returned with the weapon, and examined the settings. Lowest setting, he thought. Narrowest beam. Clumsy in his spacesuit gloves, he had trouble adjusting the power setting and beam width.

The R2’s lights had been flashing frenetically ever since he’d returned, and now it wheeped plaintively. “Sir? Sir, may I ask what you’re doing?”

“I’m getting rid of that restraining bolt,” Han told it grimly. Aiming and narrowing his eyes, he squeezed delicately.

A flash of energy erupted, and the little droid WHEEEEPPPPED. so shrilly it sounded like a scream. The restraining bolt fell to the deck, leaving behind a black burn scar on the otherwise shining metal of the R2 unit.

“Gotcha,” Han said with satisfaction. “Now, R2, be good enough to point me toward the manual interfaces and controls in your ship here.”

The droid obediently extruded a mobile wheeled “leg” and rolled over to the control banks, its interface cable trailing behind it. Han went over and crouched before the instrument panel, awkward in his suit.

Following the droid’s instructions, he wrenched off the top of one featureless control panel and studied the tiny bank of controls.

Cursing at the awkwardness of trying to manipulate the controls while wearing spacesuit gloves, Han began using the manual interface mode to disengage the hyperdrive. Altering course and speed could only be done in realspace.

Once they were back in realspace, Han painstakingly computed a new course, using the R2 unit to perform the more esoteric calculations for the jump that would send them back into hyperspace.

It took the young Corellian a while to lay in their new course and speed, but finally Han triggered the HYPERDRIVE ENGAGE switch again. A second later he felt the lurch as the drive kicked in. Han clung grimly to the instrument panel as the ship hurtled into hyperspace on its new course, at a greatly increased rate of speed.