He trailed off. “Is there trouble, Colonel?” Thrawn asked.
“You could say that, Lieutenant.” Yularen took a deep breath. “It seems that twelve of the twenty cylinders we recovered along with the Dromedar”—again, he offered Thrawn the datapad—“were empty.”
Eli felt his mouth drop open. “Empty? But that’s impossible. They were still static-locked.”
“Our friend Cygni apparently found a way to get the gas out anyway,” Yularen growled. “Looks like he went in through the cylinders’ backs.”
Eli winced. The very technique that Thrawn had suggested. Terrific. “Through the hull?”
“The hull was untouched,” Yularen said, shaking his head. “No, they’re going to have to pull everything apart to figure out how he did it.”
For a long moment the three of them just looked at one another. “You still saved the ship,” Yularen said at last. “Along with almost half the tibanna and the Dromedar’s crew. And you caught most of the pirates.”
“Considering the value the High Command places on tibanna,” Thrawn said, “they may not consider that a sufficient victory.” His voice was calm enough.
But the expression on his face sent a shiver up Eli’s back.
Some of the myths talked about what happened when Chiss were defeated or outsmarted. None of those stories ended well.
“If they don’t, they should,” Yularen said flatly. “Never mind. There’s still a long way to go, and I, for one, have always considered half a loaf far superior to no loaf at all. We’ll make this work.” He gave Thrawn a twisted smile “And if the navy decides to toss you out, the ISB would be more than happy to take you.” He tapped his white tunic. “I daresay you’d look good in white.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” Thrawn said. “But my skills and aptitudes are best suited for ships and open warfare.”
“Then let’s make sure you stay there.” Yularen looked around. “I believe that’s the minister of war over there. No point aiming low when you can aim high. If we’re lucky—and if he’s been drinking—we might get him to drop the court-martial completely.”
—
“Your Excellency, please,” Arihnda said carefully, backing toward the door, her lungs alternately burning and icing with the bits of spice she’d accidentally inhaled. What the hell was going on?
Whatever it was, there was precious little she could do about it. The door was presumably locked, the windows were unbreakable, and she was on the five thousandth floor anyway.
“He’s very clever, your Senator Renking,” Ghadi said. His voice was cool, almost conversational. “Did he really think he could get away with this?”
Arihnda shook her head. “I’m sorry, Your Excellency, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about planting false data in a senior Imperial official’s computer,” Ghadi said, his voice going soft and menacing. “Apparently, Renking expected me to be so taken with you that I’d just load the data card without checking it first.”
Arihnda felt her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. Planting false data? What kind of false data?”
“So here’s what you’re going to do,” Ghadi continued, ignoring her question. “You’re going to take that data card”—he pointed languidly toward the card in her hand—“and do whatever Renking told you to do with it. Leave it on his desk, file it, hide it under the carpet; whatever he said. And you will never, ever tell him about the switch or about this conversation.” Ghadi raised his eyebrows. “Follow my instructions, and that’ll be the end of it. Deviate from them, and I’ll see that you’re arrested for possession. Your choice.”
Arihnda’s lungs were slowly starting to clear. But at the same time, the room was starting to take on a strange clarity, with colors and textures more and more sharply defined and light and shadow pulsing back and forth. “What is this stuff doing to me?” she asked. Her voice, she noticed, was throbbing in time with the light/shadow dance.
“Nothing much,” Ghadi said. “It needs to be cooked to release its full potency. Of course, the fact that it’s raw means you’d be identified as a dealer or courier instead of simply a user. Much harsher sentence. I need your decision.”
Arihnda squeezed her eyes shut. Even through closed lids she seemed able to see the room’s new vibrancy. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?” she asked, opening her eyes again.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Ghadi countered with a shrug. “You’re a very small fish, not worth the time and effort of gutting.”
“I see,” Arihnda said. “What was on the data card I gave you?”
Ghadi frowned. “You ask a lot of questions, Ms. Pryce,” he said thoughtfully. “Are you trying to make me think you’re worth gutting?”
“You’re asking me to do to Renking the same thing he tried to do to you,” Arihnda pointed out. “I don’t want to escape your bonfire just to get dropped into his.”
“Do your job and he’ll never know it was you,” Ghadi said. “Besides, you don’t really have a choice, do you?”
Arihnda looked at the powder Ghadi had thrown on her tunic. The bright white was fading as the dust was absorbed into the fabric, but she knew that with the right equipment it would be detectable for days. “I suppose not.”
“And don’t forget it.” Ghadi smiled, a tight, bitter, evil smile. “Welcome to politics, Ms. Pryce.
“Welcome to the real Coruscant.”
—
Arihnda managed to slip out of the ballroom without Juahir or Driller spotting her. She caught an air taxi, rode to Renking’s office, and put Ghadi’s data card in the slot in the desk safe as she’d been instructed. Then, calling another air taxi, she returned to Driller’s borrowed apartment. The last thing she wanted to do was stay in Core Square a second longer than she had to, but she knew that running would make her look guilty.
Besides, her lungs and vision were still showing the effects of the spice, and there were probably other visual cues that would tag her to anyone who knew what to look for. It would be the height of irony if Ghadi kept his word not to turn her in only to have some random security guard do it for him.
She lay awake on the daybed for the next three hours, waiting for the symptoms to fade, wondering what was on the card. Wondering what it would do. Wondering what she would do.
She had no answers.
It was after two in the morning when Juahir and Driller finally returned. Arihnda brushed off Juahir’s questions with a story about not feeling well, then fended off the other woman’s efforts to help. Eventually, Juahir gave up, and she and Driller drifted off to their own beds.
It wasn’t until dawn was starting to lighten the sky that Arihnda finally nodded off. Her last thought as she fell asleep was to wonder when the blow would fall.
It fell very quickly.
—
The general comm call came at oh-nine-hundred, barely three hours after Arihnda fell asleep. She arrived at Renking’s office to find most of the local staff already assembled, whispering urgently and apprehensively among themselves. Renking arrived a few minutes later, his eyes cold, his face dark and stiff.
“I have some bad news,” he said without preamble. His gaze moved across the crowd as he talked, but Arihnda noted that his eyes never seemed to touch her face. “Some allegations have recently arisen of financial and corporate discrepancies coming from my office. While these allegations are categorically false, I must nonetheless address them as quickly as possible. I will therefore be returning to Lothal for a time, and will probably need to make brief visits to other worlds before I return.
“Unfortunately, until the situation has been straightened out, my funding levels will be severely restricted. I have no choice but to close several of my outlying offices and relieve those assigned there of your duties. Here are the offices affected.”