THE PARADISE SNARE(45)
By the time Han returned to his pilot’s seat, the world he’d chosen was growing in his viewscreens. As he approached, he saw it was a lovely world, hanging blue and white and tan against the night-blackness of space.
As he swooped toward it, Han suddenly remembered that he’d shut down his communications system after sending off the message to Ylesia.
Better turn it back on, he thought, check in with the spaceport authority and get clearance to land. He glanced back at Muuurgh, who hadn’t stirred or made a sound. And arrange for transport to the nearest hospital…
AS his fingers clicked on the comm unit, the vid-screen filled with an image of a kindly looking man with a little, dark haired girl sitting on his lap. Han was startled, then realized that this message was prerecorded, and played to every ship on an approach vector.
A voice-over identified the man: “His Majesty, Bail Prestor Organa, Viceroy and First Chairman.”
The man smiled into the screen. “Greetings. On behalf of myself and my people, I bid you welcome to Alderaan.”
6
Alderaan and Back Again
Han listened with half his attention as the man—King somebody or other, did they say?–continued with the vid-message. “As many of our visitors are already aware, Alderaan is a peaceful world, a world where we have eschewed weapons and their use. While you are our guest, we ask that you respect our traditions and our laws, by leaving your weapons with the Port Authority during your stay here.
“You will find that Alderaan has much to offer a visitor. We have almost no crime ” …
Right, Han thought. I’ll just bet …
“And no pollution. Our lakes are clear, our air is pure, and our people are happy. We have wonderful museums, and we invite you to visit them. Be sure not to miss our grass paintings as you fly over them on your landing approach. Our grass painters are among the greatest artists in the galaxy.
We welcome visitors to our beautiful world, and we ask only that you come in peace, and that you obey our—” With a muttered curse, Han leaned over and snapped the audio portion of the broadcast off. He made a rude gesture at the screen. A whole planet full of honest citizens? I’ll believe it when I see it …
Minutes later, Bail Organa’s canned message was replaced by a live traffic controller from the Port Authority. Han snapped the audio back on.
“Captain Draygo, piloting the Ylesian Dream,” he said crisply.
“Request permission to land. I was attacked by pirates, my ship is damaged, and I’ve got an injured gunner. Can you arrange for med-lift to meet my ship as soon as I land?”
“Certainly, Captain Draygo. I’ve assigned you a priority approach vector.
We’re slotting you in at Docking Bay 422. Just follow the landing beacon to your site. We’ll have a transport and med droid standing by.” “Thanks.”
Han’s approach vector did indeed take him over the grass paintings, and distracted as he was, he couldn’t help but be impressed. The huge plain of windblown, flowing grass boasted a kilometers-wide abstract design picked out in multicolored wildflowers. Neat trick, he thought.
Wonder how they do it? And why they bother? It’s not like you could sell art like that and make money off it…
The capital city of Alderaan, Aldera, was located on an island in the middle of a lake. The site of the lake was actually a meteor crater that had filled with water from underground springs. The remains of the huge, relatively “recent” (in geological terms, at least) crater surrounded the lake in a series of low, jagged foothills whose sides were splashed with green fields and forests. The water filling the millennia-old crater sparkled brilliant iceblue in the early morning rays of the sun.
The spaceport was on the far side of the island, and Han swooped low over the city on his assigned approach vector. In just minutes he was bringing the Ylesian Dream down for a perfect landing. He’d now had so much experience landing despite massive storms and vicious air currents that landing a ship on a normal planet seemed like child’s play.
The medical unit was waiting, as promised. Han quickly unbuckled Muuurgh’s blaster and stowed it away, then he brought the med droid with the anti-grav stretcher on board, and helped load Muuurgh onto it.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” he asked the attending droid.
“My preliminary scan indicates that there is no lifethreatening trauma as a result of the head injury,” the droid replied. “However, we will need to run further tests. I would anticipate that your crew member will require an overnight stay in our facility.”