departure record for Novachild could have meant nothing

  more sinister than that the ship had left while Needa was

  sleeping, but Iella felt in her gut that was unlikely.

  She sat back in her chair and looked at the data on the

  screen again. The fact that no other Imperial records men-

  tioned the Novachild or Hes Glillto told leila the records had

  been deliberately purged. And anyone with the access needed

  to purge those records could easily manufacture and enter

  the data that shows Tycho was in Imperial lntelligence's pay.

  Or, Tycho himself could have doctored things to make it

  look as if he had been framed.

  Iella slowly shook her head. The information she had

  was intriguing but essentially useless. She could not prove

  Lai Nootka and Hes Glillto were the same person. The

  Novachild's arrival put it on Coruscant a couple of days

  before the meeting Corran had witnessed, but she couldn't

  exclude the possibility that the ship had departed before the

  date of the meeting. Unless she could definitively place

  Nootka on Coruscant at that time, she couldn't prove Tycho

  was telling the truth.

  And I'm not so sure I want to do that. She sighed. Diric

  had told her about some of the conversations he'd had with

  Tycho. He was more convinced than ever of Tycho's inno-

  cence, and his opinion did carry a lot of weight in her mind.

  Even so, if Tycho had caused Corran's death, lella didn't

  want him to be able to get away with it. I owe Corran that

  A familiar hoot brought her back to the present and

  sparked a smile on her face. "Whistler!"

  The small green and white R2 beeped happily. Behind

  him, tortling along, came Rogue Squadron's black, clam-

  shell-headed M-3PO unit. "Good morning, Mistress."

  "Morning?" leila glanced at the chronographic readout

  at the top of her datapad's screen. "I don't believe it. I've

  been here eight hours. Diric will kill me."

  Emtrey's head canted to the left. "I would hope not,

  Mistress leila. That would be a crime and--"

  "I was speaking metaphorically, Emtrey, not literally."

  leila frowned at the droid. "I meant that he would be upset

  with me."

  "Ah, I see."

  leila patted Whistler gently on his domed head. "So

  what are you two doing here in the computer center?"

  Whistler warbled nonchalantly.

  "We can so tell her, Whistler." Emtrey's head righted

  itself and thrust forward, giving leila a good view of the gold

  eyes burning in the hollow of his face. "You do want the

  truth to triumph, don't you?"

  leila nodded slowly. "Every day it seems I'm hearing less

  and less of it. What have you got?"

  Emtrey pointed toward her dataterminal's I/O port.

  "Whistler, hook in there and show her what we found."

  Whistler squawked rudely--a sound leila recognized as

  one she'd often heard the droid use to chasten Corran. Her

  throat thickened as melancholy tried to suck the life out of

  her, but she shook her head. She looked up at Emtrey and

  forced words out past the lump in her throat. "What have

  you been doing?"

  "We have finished the tasks Master Ven set for us before

  he left with the others, so we started going over transcripts

  and noticed an underlying assumption everyone seems to

  have made concerning the conquest of Coruscant." "And that is?"

  "It is assumed that Ysanne Isard let us have the world

  because she wanted us to have it, infected as it was with the

  Krytos virus. The stresses possessing it has put on the Alli-

  ance certainly are great, and the assumption is probably

  valid, but there is no straight-line correlation between her

  desire to let us have the planet and actions taken in the final

  days."

  "I'm not certain, at this hour, I follow what you're say-

  ing." Iella rubbed at her burning eyes with her left hand.

  "Can you break it down and be more specific?"

  "Certainly." Emtrey glanced down at the R2 unit.

  "Show her the current disease case grid."

  Whistler chirped happily. The data on the terminal's

  screen vanished beneath a graph that plotted incidences of

  sickness over time in red. A thick blood-red line quickly blos-

  somed into a triangle with a steep hypotenuse, then leveled

  out into a rectangle that began to flare upward again over the

  last ten days. The disease had spread quickly at first, but had

  plateauedmuntil recently.

  Iella nodded. "The plateau indicates the period when the

  disease stopped spreading because bacta therapy managed to

  keep it under control."

  "Exactly. The graph of fatalities has a similar profile."

  "I can imagine. This is pretty horrible."

  "True, Mistress. Whistler, now run the plus-six graph."

  "Plus-six?"

  "The projected disease report graph we would have seen

  if the planet had fallen to the Alliance just six days later than

  it did." The new graph exploded from the starting point and

  spiked quickly off the top of the screen. "Projected fatalities

  in this model are 85 percent of afflicted populations."

  Iella's jaw dropped open. "Whole alien populations

  would have been wiped off Coruscant."

  "Exactly. This model, when broken down by species,

  shows a complete depopulation of Gamorreans, Quarren,

  Twi'leks, SuUustans, and Trandoshans. The chances of the

  disease traveling off-world are incalculable, but the potential

  for galaxy-wide extermination of some species cannot be dis-

  counted."

  She blinked and rubbed at her eyes again. "Why are the

  models so different?"

  Silvery highlights flashed from the edges of Emtrey's

  black carapace as he raised his hands. "One reason is highly

  speculative. First, it seems that in boiling off a reservoir to

  create the storm that brought down the planet's shields, our

  efforts destroyed a large amount of the virus present in the

  planetary water system. Second, and far more germane to

  our discussion, is the abbreviated incubation period our ar-

  rival gave the disease. Had the Alliance arrived just a week

  later, we would already have had a wave of deaths and a

  whole new round of infections because of contact with

  bodily fluids from the victims and the virus in the water

  system."

  leila nodded slowly. "If we had been just a week later in

  liberating the planet, there would have been no way to save

  it. Non-human members of the Alliance would have fled,

  dooming their own populations. Without non-human sup-

  port, the Alliance would have foundered." "That seems probable, Mistress."

  "Yeah." lella's brown eyes tightened. "So the reason the

  Imps stopped our initial effort to shut down the shields was

  to keep us from taking over the world too soon. For Iceheart

  it wasn't a matter of if but when we'd take the world. And

  since Tycho's contribution to our efforts were what enabled

  us to bring the shields down before the time that would have

  been optimal for Iceheart,
we can suppose he wasn't working

  for her."

  Emtrey nodded and Whistler trumpeted triumphantly.

  "Unless, of course, that's exactly what Iceheart wants us

  to think." lella shook her head. "Not bad work, you two,

  but it's about as helpful as what I found on Lai Nootka. I can

  put someone who ought to be him flying something that

  ought to be his ship here about the time Tycho said he met

  with Nootka, but I can't prove it. I'd dearly like to believe

  Tycho is being framed, but I don't see a good reason why

  Isard would be devoting so many resources to getting some-

  one who is really not that important."

  Whistler reeled off a series of sharp bleats.

  "Yes, I will tell her." Emtrey looked down at Iella.

  "Whistler says discrediting Tycho will discredit Rogue

  Squadron. If Tycho is convicted, Commander Antilles will be

  distracted. Tycho's conviction could also cause an inquiry

  into the events of the first assault on Borleias. He could be

  blamed for the disaster, absolving the Bothan General of his

  mistake, and that might make the Bothans feel they can grab

  for more power."

  "I can follow that, but it's too risky a return for Iceheart

  to take an interest in it. There has to be something else."

  "There is, Mistress Wessiri." Emtrey lowered his hands

  to near his hips. "Whistler says Ysanne Isard would do it

  because she's cruel."

  That idea landed in Iella's gut and sat there like one of

  Hoth's frozen continents. "You know, Whistler, you may

  have something there. Toying with an innocent man like that

  is exactly what she would do, especially when it meant that

  the Alliance was dancing to a tune she called. Of course,

  that doesn't prove Tycho is innocent, but thwarting her is

  enough to make sure I keep digging until I learn what's really

  going on, one way or another."

  24

  Corran scratched at his right ear, flaking off some crusted

  flesh. "Yeah, I know it sounds as if I got hit harder than I did,

  but I'm convinced I'm right." He looked at Jan. "l think it's a

  good shot at getting out of here, or at least one that has to be

  explored."

  "I agree."

  Urlor shook his head. "Too far-fetched."

  "Which is why I want to test my theory when we're

  down in the mine."

  Urlor's massive left hand stroked his beard. "Will you

  give this foolishness up if your experiment fails?"

  Jan raised an eyebrow and glanced at Corran. "Will

  you?"

  Corran hesitated before answering. Though he had not

  blacked out, the Emdee droid had kept him in the infirmary

  overnight for observation--at least Corran assumed it was

  overnight, having had no way of judging the passage of time.

  Corran had gone over in his mind what had happened and

  came to two conclusions. The first, which no one doubted,

  was that the guard had singled him out because someone had

  mentioned his desire to escape. Though Corran hadn't men-

  tioned it to anyone other than Jan and Urlor, the questions

  he had asked of the inmates would have been enough to alert

  even the most dense of individuals to his plans.

  The second thing he had concluded, and had spent the

  last week attempting to convince Jan and Urlor was true,

  was that they were all upside down. The technology for cre-

  ating and negating artificial and real gravity was ancient.

  Ships of all sizes and stripes could generate their own gravity.

  Reversing the gravity in the complex would lead any escap-

  ees to assume that by going up they'd be getting closer to the

  surface and freedom when, in fact, they'd be getting farther

  from it and killing their chances of escape. If Corran had

  heard troopers marching past, any escapee would run full on

  into at least one level occupied by soldiers. Even if he didn't

  get captured, by the time he realized what had happened,

  he'd have a long way to go just to get back to the prison

  level, much less go beyond it to freedom.

  He shook his head. "No, I'll still go even if my experi-

  ment is unsuccessful. I have no doubt that I'm right--the

  experiment is just to convince you I'm right."

  Urlor folded his arms across his chest. "Why do you care

  if we believe you?"

  "If I'm right, you can come with me."

  The big man held up his ruined right hand. "You'd find

  a cripple of little use to you. I've learned to become patient.

  I'll wait for you to come back."

  "You're wrong there." Corran looked at Jan. "How

  about you?"

  The older man sat silently on his billet for a moment,

  then shook his head rather firmly. "Forgive me. There is no

  way I can go, but I allowed myself to indulge in the fantasy."

  "You're strong. You could make it."

  "I appreciate your assessment of me, Corran, but it is

  overgenerous." Jan shrugged. "Besides, just as a desire to

  keep me safe prevents our people from harming our Imperial

  compatriots, so a desire to keep our people safe prevents me

  from joining you. If I escape, Iceheart will kill the lot of us.

  I'll remain here and keep them safe until you can bring help

  back."

  Corran frowned. "So neither of you will go?"

  "No." Urlor shook his head. "You'll be on your own."

  Unspoken in that sentence was the conviction there was no

  way to guarantee that the Imps didn't have spies among the

  Alliance prisoners.

  And my traveling alone means that if I'm a spy, I won't

  be taking anyone else with me. "Don't worry, I'm no Tycho

  Celchu, nor will I let myself be betrayed by one another

  time."

  Jan's eyes narrowed. "Tycho Celchu? He was here once

  for several months. They called him out one day and he

  vanished. Was he a traitor?"

  "He's the reason I'm here. He gave the Imps override

  code data on a Headhunter I was flying. They took control

  and I'm here." Corran forced his balled fists open. "Isard

  told me Tycho is on trial for my murder, so justice does

  prevail."

  Urior scratched at his jaw. "Celchu was a sleeper, wasn't

  he?"

  As much as Corran hated Tycho, that description sent a

  shiver down his spine. Within the prisoner population were

  individuals who were suffering severe shock from their inter-

  rogations. Most were ambulatory, but not much beyond

  that. In the brief time he'd been in the general population

  he'd seen one or two of them recover to a certain extent, but

  their attention spans and short-term memory were short and

  shot respectively. They did seem to get better, but only grad-

  ually.

  "I believed he was, but that must have been an act. If

  you think about it, being a sleeper meant many people would

  speak in front of him. When he recovered he'd have folks

  trying to help him with his memory." Jan shook his head.

  "When he got to the point where he should have been better,

  they pulled him out and debriefed him. He had me fooled."

  "He had a lot of people
fooled, Wedge Antilles in-

  cluded." Corran nodded firmly. "He's not fooling folks any

  longer, though. Just goes to show the Empire doesn't win

  them all, not by a long shot. And if my experiment works,

  we'll give them one more loss to account for."

  In some ways Wedge was surprised by his reaction to the

  display of hospitality Koh'shak put on for his benefit. He

  found it both barbaric and somehow naive. An area had

  been cleared near the Alliance ships. Opalescent glow-

  stones--technological lamps designed to look like natural

  stones--had been brought out from homes and arranged in a

  circular pattern. While red and gold highlights played

  through them, the illumination they produced was coldly

  blue and white. It made the humans into pale ghosts and

  rendered the Twi'leks as cyanotic ice creatures.

  Rogue Squadron and the ships' crews had been invited

  to the celebration. The visitors arrayed themselves in a circle

  that put them five meters from the outer edge of the glow-

  stone circle. Twi'leks from various clans interspersed them-

  selves among the visitors, with one who spoke passable Basic

  acting as interpreter for two or three others. Wedge harbored

  no illusions about what was going on--his people were being

  interrogated, albeit politely. Their stories would be com-

  pared at Twi'lek councils, and decisions would be made

  about the future of Ryloth based on what the Twi'leks

  learned.

  Servants passed around the outside of the circle, offering

  the visitors food, drink, and gifts. The musicians who had

  been assembled opposite him played a variety of string and

  wind instruments producing notes that ran up and down on

  a thirteen-note scale. Wedge found the music only marginally

  painful, while Liat Tsayv and Aril Nunb seemed to be mov-

  ing in sync with notes he couldn't hear. Out behind the cold

  spectral light cast by the glowstones, life continued as usual

  in Kala'uun. People walking by gawked for a moment or

  two, and many braintails--or lekku, as Wedge had learned

  they were called in Rylothean--twitched with silent messages

  about the assembly.

  Wedge didn't really have eyes for much of what was

  happening outside the visitors' circle, primarily because of

  what was going on at its heart. A lithe, petite Twi'lek female