I can pretend to join the cause and gather all kinds of information about
the kids and what they are trying to do. Then we can - "
"Absolutely not," Qui-Gon interrupted. "Infiltration is not part of
our assignment. We must tell Chairman Port what is happening."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Qui-Gon got
the feeling that it took all of his Padawan's resolve not to explode in
frustration.
Obi-Wan took some time to gather his thoughts, standing up and moving
across the room before turning back to face his Master. Qui-Gon could
almost see his mind working.
"This society is clearly unhealthy," Obi-Wan finally said in a calm
voice. "It is not working for its people. The youths' actions are an
obvious cry for help. If we are not careful about how we expose their
involvement, we risk ruining everything. We may as well say good-bye to any
hope of change."
Obi-Wan stopped speaking for a minute but continued to look his
Master in the eye. Qui‑Gon sensed that he was not going to back down.
"The Vorzydiak 4's would be better served if we prepare both sides
for the confrontation ahead," Obi-Wan finished. "It will still be a
mediation, just not between the parties we expected."
Qui-Gon looked at his Padawan. He stood near the doorway, his arms
crossed over his chest. His eyes burned with determination, but not an
angry one. He simply believed that this was the best path for the mission
to take.
Qui-Gon disagreed. They had not been summoned by the Council to
infiltrate the Vorzydiaks. They should simply explain that Vorzyd 5 was not
to blame and leave Vorzyd 4 to sort out its own troubles. The Jedi were
keepers of peace, not politicians or spies.
But then, missions often didn't go as planned. And this one was no
exception. Nothing on Vorzyd 4 was as they'd expected. The dinner they'd
shared with the Ports was not just culturally different, but stifled and
awkward. He'd sensed that Bryn was unhappy, perhaps even depressed.
Relations between the generations could certainly be described as
unhealthy. But was this the way to fix it, and was doing so within their
mandate?
Qui-Gon stood up and paced the room. Wasn't he constantly telling
Obi-Wan to trust his instincts? How could he give the boy such guidance and
then never let him act on it?
Because you are afraid to let him go, afraid of the day you won't be
his Master.
"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice cut into Qui-Gon's thoughts. He had not
meant to be silent for so long. Obi-Wan was looking at him, waiting
patiently for a response.
Qui-Gon exhaled a long breath. "You may gather information for three
days," he said. "But you must keep me informed of all happenings. And if
after that time you have not convinced the Freelies to come forward and
discuss matters with the adults themselves, I will have to report their
involvement in the pranks to Chairman Port."
Obi-Wan dropped his hands to his sides and smiled. His blue eyes
clearly showed his gratitude. "Thank you," he said.
Qui-Gon nodded. He was not at all certain that he'd made the right
decision.
CHAPTER 8
Obi-Wan immediately began to formulate his plans. He was a bit
surprised that Qui-Gon had let him take the lead in the mission, but he was
pleased as well. It was the first time Qui-Gon had given him so much
responsibility.
Perhaps he is beginning to think of me as a peer and not just a
pupil, Obi-Wan thought. The young Jedi had been waiting a long time for an
opportunity like this, and was determined to succeed.
Lying on his sleep couch, Obi-Wan recounted what he'd overheard at
the Freelies meeting. The more he could remember, the better his chances of
infiltrating successfully. It seemed he had just fallen asleep when his
Master was gently rousing him awake.
"Time to get up," Qui-Gon said. "The Ports will be waiting."
Obi-Wan got up and dressed quickly. But when they arrived at the
Ports' dwelling the family had already left for the day. Cold kibi and
patot panak were on the table, and the Jedi dutifully sat down to eat
despite the fact that the food did not look particularly appetizing.
A message on the databoard asked the Jedi to come to Chairman Port's
office in the workspace as soon as they could. He wanted to contact Vorzyd
5 immediately.
"I'll have to find a way to stall him," Qui-Gon said aloud as he bit
into a panak.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'd like to visit the Vorzyd school today, Master,"
he said. "There's no point in waiting for another secret meeting to occur -
it would waste valuable time."
"That is probably wise. But be careful, Padawan." He paused, then
added, "And I suppose I do not need to tell you to keep your eyes and ears
open at all times, since that's exactly what got us to where we are right
now."
Obi-Wan thought for a moment that his Master was scolding him, but
his eyes showed amusement as he looked across the table at his apprentice.
"No, I suppose you don't," Obi-Wan agreed.
When Qui-Gon had left the homespace, Obi-Wan found his way to Grath's
clothing container and borrowed a drab, one-piece jumpsuit. Then, to
conceal the fact that he didn't have antennae, he made a makeshift turban
using the hood from his robe.
"It's not exactly high fashion," he told his goofy-looking
reflection. But some of the kids he'd seen the night before had been
wearing doctored outfits and homemade hats - attempts to make themselves
stand out and look different. If he was lucky, his hat would pass for an
example of self-expression and would not be suspected as a coverup.
With a last once-over in the reflector, Obi-Wan left the dwelling and
made his way to the shuttle platform. It was mid-morning, and most of the
laborers were already at work. The shuttle car was nearly empty.
The city was neatly organized, so it was not difficult to find the
schoolspace. Obi-Wan had assumed that the educational buildings would look
like all the other buildings on Vorzyd 4, and he was right. Three identical
and dull-looking structures stood in a row, housing students of different
ages.
As he circled the buildings, Obi-Wan peered into as many classrooms
as he could. With the exception of the students' ages, they all looked the
same. Glazed eyes stared at large screens placed in the front of the rooms.
Adults stood by, drilling what could only be work techniques into the
students' heads. The institution looked more like a work-training facility
than an actual school.
But then, Obi-Wan knew from experience that there were all kinds of
schools in the galaxy. He was suddenly reminded of the awful Learning-
Circle on the planet Kegan. In spite of the warm day, he shivered at the
memory of the "school" where he and Siri, another Padawan, had been
imprisoned.
At the School for the Learning, kids were brainwashed to believe
things that were not true, and difficult or ill children were locked away -
for good.
Vorzyd 4 was certainly not the only place where kids were
discouraged from developing their own ideas. For the second time that
morning Obi-Wan felt grateful that his Master was allowing him the freedom
to determine the course of this mission. To try to solve a problem on his
own, in his own way. He did not want to let himself or Qui-Gon down, and he
felt more determined than ever to make his plan work.
Obi-Wan turned a corner and peered into a small, square portal.
Inside was an austere room. Grath and a few other kids from the previous
night's meeting were inside, sitting on sleep couches. The room appeared to
be an infirmary, but none of the kids inside looked sick.
In fact, they were all sitting up and chatting animatedly.
Obi-Wan stepped closer to the portal, hoping to get a better look and
possibly hear what the kids were saying. But just then the door slid open
and an adult Vorzydiak entered the room. Right away the kids all lay back,
feigning weakness and sleep. The adult looked each student over carefully,
standing over Grath for a particularly long time. Then, apparently
satisfied, she turned and left the room.
No sooner had the door closed than the kids sat up again and began to
talk. One of them jumped to her feet, using hand gestures to emphasize her
point. Obi-Wan recognized her as the girl who had spotted him outside the
meeting the night before.
It looked like the kids were planning something, and Obi-Wan wanted
in on it.
Moving away from the portal, Obi-Wan focused on his body temperature.
Soon he began to feel warmth tingling through his limbs - he had given
himself a fever. A Vorzydiak fever, he hoped.
Making his way around the side of the building, Obi-Wan found the
door to the infirmary, opened it, and stepped inside.
"The button!" someone shouted.
"Quick!" yelled another voice.
"The door!"
After a moment of confusion, Obi-Wan understood. The kids wanted him
to keep the door open - they obviously couldn't get out from the inside. By
pressing a button, Obi-Wan was able to keep the door from closing. The four
kids leaped off their sleep couches and charged out into the sun's light.
"What happened to Tray?" Grath asked, turning toward Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan shrugged, hoping it would be enough of a response.
"Well, I'm glad someone came to let us out," the hand-gesture girl
said. "It was getting hard to convince the medic that we were actually ill.
"
"Come on," Grath said, looking around. "Let's get out of here before
someone sees us."
As the kids ran down a duracrete walkway away from the schoolspace,
their conversation continued.
"I think we should try to get more kids out of class next time," one
of the kids - a younger boy - said. "Trainer Nalo is so obsessed with his
instructuals he would barely notice."
"We can't risk being discovered," a girl replied. Obi-Wan thought she
was the shuttle driver from the night before, but wasn't entirely sure.
By now the group was a fair distance from the schoolspace, and they
slowed to a quick Vorzydiak walk.
"This new plan is complicated enough without getting more Freelies
involved in implementing it," Grath explained. "We need them to focus on
their part of the plan - getting the rule-following kids to think
differently, too."
Grath stopped and turned toward the boy. "But it's good to keep
thinking ahead, Flip," he added.
Grath smiled at the boy, and Flip beamed. He obviously looked up to
the Freelie leader.
Grath ran a few steps and spun around, still moving backward. "To
work, then?" he called with a smile.
The group erupted into giggles and broke into a run after their
leader. Obi-Wan felt a surge of energy as he hurried to catch up.
CHAPTER 9
Drab hexagonal buildings whizzed past the windows as Qui-Gon's
shuttle made its way back to the city workspace. The view was uninspiring,
and Qui-Gon's thoughts drifted back to Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon had waited outside Port's dwelling and watched his Padawan
board the shuttle to the schoolspace. He hadn't meant to spy on the boy,
but something had held him there. As he watched Obi-Wan confidently board
the shuttle, secure in his skills and his plan, Qui-Gon felt the same pang
of emotion he'd felt the night before.
The feeling was new to him, and so unfamiliar that it made him
uneasy. He was not sure why he was reluctant to let Obi-Wan take charge of
the mission on his own. Was it because he was afraid of losing him, or
because he was worried about the boy's safety? "Production Sector seven," a
voice droned.
Qui-Gon was startled to hear his stop - and grateful for the
announcement. There were no other landmarks to help him find his way back
to the Multycorp office he'd visited the day before. Exiting the shuttle
behind several other laborers, Qui-Gon cleared his mind. He needed to focus
on the mission at hand.
All around him swarms of Vorzydiaks hurried to get to their stations.
Qui-Gon wondered how the Vorzydiaks maintained their enthusiasm for work.
They seemed to be in a great hurry to get to work, almost a frenzy.
Thinking about how he would stall the chairman, Qui-Gon boarded the
turbolift for the twenty-fourth floor. But long before he reached the
chairman's office he sensed that something was wrong. It suddenly dawned on
him that the Vorzydiaks leaving the shuttle were agitated about more than
simply getting to work.
The turbolift doors opened on the twenty-fourth floor. As he stepped
out, Qui-Gon was met by a disturbing scene - and sound.
A low insectoid drone - much more unnerving than the one he'd heard
the evening before - bounced off the walls and filled the room. Laborers
rocked back and forth in their chairs like confused children, mumbling to
themselves.
Inside the meeting room, Chairman Port circled the large table. His
antennae flailed and his eyes looked larger than normal. When Qui-Gon
entered, the chairman nearly pounced on him.
"At last," he said, his voice quite a bit higher than usual. "There
has been another attack. We must contact Vorzyd 5. Now!"
"In time," Qui-Gon said calmly. "First tell me what has happened."
"It is awful," the chairman said, walking faster and faster around
the table. "The worst casualty yet. The central operations computer. It
controls the whole grid! It is down. We are all down."
Qui-Gon thought the chairman might burst into tears - or an
unintelligible droning buzz. He had to calm down the leader. Without Port's
help it would be impossible to keep the rest of the Vorzydiaks from losing
it.
Qui-Gon strode to the opposite side of the room and stood in the
chairman's path. Port stopped circling.
"First tell me where the central operations computer is," Qui-Gon
said firmly. "Then I have work for you to do."
The chairman looked up at the tall Jedi. Qui-Gon saw something shift
on his face, as if he suddenly knew he had to get a hold of himself. But he
was
n't sure that the chairman knew how.
"Yes, yes, yes," Chairman Port said. "We must make our way back to
work. To work." His antennae seemed to slow a bit.
"The operations computer?" Qui-Gon repeated.
"In the sub-basement. Take the turbolift to level S-one."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Contact the technicians and let them know I am
coming. And when you have done that you must assign tasks to the laborers.
Contact the managers. Keep everyone busy until the computers are back on-
line. It doesn't matter what they do. Just make sure they are safe and
busy. It is your job." Qui-Gon emphasized this last word.