only do this sort of thing so that you can become a wealthy man?” He eyed Han up and down and went back to his driving, but added, “A callous exterior isn’t an uncommon way of protecting ideals, Captain; it hides the idealists from the derision of fools and cowards. But it also immobilizes them, so that, in trying to preserve their ideals, they risk losing them.”
What this big, bluff, amiable man had just said carried so much of hit and of miss, insult and compliment, that Han didn’t take time to unravel it. “I’m a guy with a hot ship and places to go, Rekkon, so don’t let yourself get carried away with the philosophy.”
They entered the Center, maneuvering along wide streets between rearing buildings housing the various offices and storage banks, personnel dormitories and recreational areas, shops and commissaries. The traffic was thick—robo-hacks, ground-effect cargo lifters, skimmers, Espo cruisers, and innumerable mechanicals.
Making a final turn, Rekkon entered a subterranean garage and descended more than ten levels. Nosing the skimmer into a vacant spot, he cut the engine and stepped out. Han and Chewbacca followed as Bollux clambered down. The Wookiee and his partner affixed their badges to their chests and vests, respectively. Rekkon slipped out of his coveralls and tool belt and stuffed both into an equipment locker on the skimmer’s side. That left him attired in long, flowing robes of bright, geometric patterns. His supervisor’s badge was prominent on his broad chest. His feet were shod in comfortable-looking sandals. Han asked him how he’d gotten the skimmer and other equipment.
“Not difficult, once I’d made a partial penetration of the computer systems. A false job-request form, an altered vehicle-allocation slip—those things were elementary.”
Chewbacca took up the tool bag again. Bollux, who hadn’t had the chance before, now drew himself up before Rekkon. “Jessa has instructed me to place myself and my autonomous computer module completely at your service.”
“Thank you—Bollux, isn’t it? Your aid will be critical to us.” At this, the old ’droid seemed to straighten with pride. Han saw that Rekkon had found the way to Bollux’s heart, or rather, to his behavioral circuitry matrix.
The Authority had spared no expense on this Center, and so, rather than to an elevator or shuttle car, it was to a lift chute that Rekkon led them. They stepped into its confluence and, seemingly standing on air, were wafted upward by the chute’s field. Two techs drifted into the lift chute on the next level, and conversation among Han’s group stopped. The Wookiee, the two men, and the ’droid continued to ascend, with others entering or leaving the field, for another minute and more, rising past garage and service levels, the lower bureaucratic offices, and at last through the levels where data processing and retrieval operations of one kind and another took place. Most passengers in the chute wore computer techs’ tunics. Occasionally, one would exchange a greeting with Rekkon. Han gathered, from the lack of curiosity he and his companions drew, that it wasn’t unusual for a supervisor to have tech assistants and ’droids in tow.
Rekkon eventually tilted himself, to drift into the disembarkation-flow. Han, Chewbacca, and Bollux followed. They found themselves standing in a large gallery. Here, two floors had been combined, the upper one opening onto a balcony that ran around the gallery’s midsection, looking down on the banks of lift and drop chutes.
Rekkon led on, down a hallway of darkly reflective walls, floor, and ceiling. Han caught sight of himself in the tinted mirror of the walls and wondered how he had ever wound up a reckless-eyed predator, contaminating these antiseptic inner domains of the juggernaut Authority. What he did know was that he would much rather have been hotting the Falcon along between the stars, unencumbered.
Rekkon stopped at a door and
What this big, bluff, amiable man had just said carried so much of hit and of miss, insult and compliment, that Han didn’t take time to unravel it. “I’m a guy with a hot ship and places to go, Rekkon, so don’t let yourself get carried away with the philosophy.”
They entered the Center, maneuvering along wide streets between rearing buildings housing the various offices and storage banks, personnel dormitories and recreational areas, shops and commissaries. The traffic was thick—robo-hacks, ground-effect cargo lifters, skimmers, Espo cruisers, and innumerable mechanicals.
Making a final turn, Rekkon entered a subterranean garage and descended more than ten levels. Nosing the skimmer into a vacant spot, he cut the engine and stepped out. Han and Chewbacca followed as Bollux clambered down. The Wookiee and his partner affixed their badges to their chests and vests, respectively. Rekkon slipped out of his coveralls and tool belt and stuffed both into an equipment locker on the skimmer’s side. That left him attired in long, flowing robes of bright, geometric patterns. His supervisor’s badge was prominent on his broad chest. His feet were shod in comfortable-looking sandals. Han asked him how he’d gotten the skimmer and other equipment.
“Not difficult, once I’d made a partial penetration of the computer systems. A false job-request form, an altered vehicle-allocation slip—those things were elementary.”
Chewbacca took up the tool bag again. Bollux, who hadn’t had the chance before, now drew himself up before Rekkon. “Jessa has instructed me to place myself and my autonomous computer module completely at your service.”
“Thank you—Bollux, isn’t it? Your aid will be critical to us.” At this, the old ’droid seemed to straighten with pride. Han saw that Rekkon had found the way to Bollux’s heart, or rather, to his behavioral circuitry matrix.
The Authority had spared no expense on this Center, and so, rather than to an elevator or shuttle car, it was to a lift chute that Rekkon led them. They stepped into its confluence and, seemingly standing on air, were wafted upward by the chute’s field. Two techs drifted into the lift chute on the next level, and conversation among Han’s group stopped. The Wookiee, the two men, and the ’droid continued to ascend, with others entering or leaving the field, for another minute and more, rising past garage and service levels, the lower bureaucratic offices, and at last through the levels where data processing and retrieval operations of one kind and another took place. Most passengers in the chute wore computer techs’ tunics. Occasionally, one would exchange a greeting with Rekkon. Han gathered, from the lack of curiosity he and his companions drew, that it wasn’t unusual for a supervisor to have tech assistants and ’droids in tow.
Rekkon eventually tilted himself, to drift into the disembarkation-flow. Han, Chewbacca, and Bollux followed. They found themselves standing in a large gallery. Here, two floors had been combined, the upper one opening onto a balcony that ran around the gallery’s midsection, looking down on the banks of lift and drop chutes.
Rekkon led on, down a hallway of darkly reflective walls, floor, and ceiling. Han caught sight of himself in the tinted mirror of the walls and wondered how he had ever wound up a reckless-eyed predator, contaminating these antiseptic inner domains of the juggernaut Authority. What he did know was that he would much rather have been hotting the Falcon along between the stars, unencumbered.
Rekkon stopped at a door and
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