The Mark of the Crown(10)

On his first outing, he had contacted Qui-Gon by comlink to teJI him how useless he felt. Qui-Gon had no sympathy.

“Your presence is enough,” he said shortly. “Just let them see that the process is being monitored from an outside source. That will give the people trust in the system.”

Obi-Wan turned to Jono. “Jono, would you mind waiting outside? I think it would be better. After all, people know you’re a palace worker. I have to look neutral or they won’t trust the voting.”

“That’s true,” Jono said hesitantly. “But I am supposed to stay at your side….” His voice trailed off, but he smiled. “Of course you’re right, Obi-Wan. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize the elections. I’ll wait over there in the plaza.”

Obi-Wan thanked him and walked into the community center. He felt guilty deceiving Jono this way. But he couldn’t involve his friend in his task. If the Queen was being poisoned, no one at the palace could find out that he knew. He had to trap the poisoner. If he needed Jono’s help later, he would ask for it. First, he would need to consult Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan headed through the community center and out a side door. He quickly walked down an alley into a side street. Then he doubled back in the opposite direction.

On the way to the center, Obi-Wan had kept his eye out for info-data booths. They were dotted around Galu, and citizens used them to look up information on services available in the capital. There was one only a few blocks from the center.

The bright green light on top of the info-data booth glowed, telling him the booth was free. Quickly, Obi-Wan entered. He typed “substance analyzer” into the datapad. Within seconds, the screen flashed with several names. Obi-Wan accessed a city map, which pinpointed where each analyzer was located. One name, Mali Errat, had a lab close to Obi-Wan’s location. He touched the screen, and a luminous green path showed him the route.

Obi-Wan hurried through the crowded streets. Jono would soon start to wonder why he was taking so long. The boy knew the streets of Galu well, and might search for him.

There was no answer to his knock at the address, and no sign outside. Obi-Wan pushed open the door cautiously and found himself in a tiny, cluttered room. One long durasteel table ran across the middle of it, touching the walls at both ends. The table was covered with equipment: tubes, vials, datapads, circuits, measuring devices, holofiles. Metal storage boxes crowded the floor, some stacked precariously, almost as high as the ceiling. Durasheets covered with data unfurled across the floor.

Was this a lab, or a storage area for a lunatic?

“Hello?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Who’s that?” A head popped up from behind a stack of storage boxes. It was a Galacian elder. Wisps of platinum hair covered his bald head, and his pale green eyes squinted at Obi-Wan. “What is it? Come on, then,” he said impatiently, snapping his fingers.

“State your business.”

Obi-Wan walked closer and peered around the boxes. The man was sitting on the floor.

***

Data printouts were littered around him and coiled in his lap.

“I’m looking for Mali Errat…”

“Speak up, boy, don’t whisper!”

“Mali Errat,” Obi-Wan repeated, louder this time.

“Don’t shout! I’m Mali. You look surprised to find me in my own lab, boy. Well, what do you want?”

“I have something I need analyzed-” Obi-Wan started.

Mali interrupted him again. “Another surprise. You’re in a substance analysis lab. Therefore I would assume you have something to be analyzed. Obviously, I am brighter than I look.”

The old man chortled.

Obi-Wan looked at the cluttered lab, the rolls of data printout that coiled on the floor like snakes. “Maybe you’re too busy-“

“Way too busy, ifs true,” Mali snapped. “So don’t waste my time. Show me your item.”

He didn’t really have a choice. There was no time to find a more conventional scientist. Or a more polite one. Obi-Wan withdrew the pouch from his tunic. He handed it to Malt.

Mali took out the vial of tea and the little round sweet cakes.

“You want me to analyze your lunch?”

Obi-Wan held out his hand. “I can go elsewhere.”

“Touchy young man,” Mali muttered. “When do you need results?

“Right now,” ObirWan said.

“It will cost you,” Mali warned.

“I have credits,” Obi-Wan said, showing him.

Mali took several credits from his hand. “That will do. Now.” He stood. He was a smalt man, but still agile, Obi-Wan noted as Mali leaped over a storage box and pulled a stool up to the durasteel table.