"Foster, Alan Dean - Star Wars - Splinter Of The Mind's Eye" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Luke froze.

V

"GREAT Captain-Supervisor," he finally managed to say, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Please," Grammel requested, showing a hint of genuine emotion for the first time, "don't toy with me. You were observed conversing with a local person," the last words uttered with obvious distaste, "whose presence here is barely tolerated by the Imperial law. She remains always just the safe side of illegality. Despite personal feelings, deporting her illegally and unnecessarily would irritate certain segments of the populace who find her amusing. Besides, it would be expensive.
"You were seen showing her a small glowing red stone. Something you acquired during your illegal sojourning on Circarpous, perhaps?"
Luke's thoughts were in turmoil. Unquestionably some informant of Grammel's, probably the tiny cloaked figure the Captain-Supervisor had talked with some minutes ago, had seen the shard of Kaiburr crystal that Halla had presented to them. But the spy hadn't seen Halla bring it out and show it to Luke.
So Grammel and his spy were assuming that the stone was something Luke had brought with him and was showing to Halla! Which was fine for the old woman, he thought. She shouldn't be drawn into this now.
For an awful moment Luke thought that Grammel might be a Force-sensitive with the knowledge and ability to operate the crystal, or at least to sense its special property. But a hasty reaching out revealed only the usual vapid vacuum associated with normal humans hovering about Grammel's mind. He couldn't suspect anything about the fragment's real importance. Nevertheless, Luke balked at turning over the precious splinter to a servant of the Empire.
Grammel wasn't one to waste time. "Come on, young man. You seem like a sensible sort. Surely it can't be worth additional inconvenience to you?"
"Really," Luke insisted, stalling frantically, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, if you will press me," Grammel responded, not particularly displeased. He turned his attention to the Princess, who continued to sit on the floor nursing her bruises. "The young lady is something more than a business associate, maybe? She means something to you?"
Luke shrugged elaborately. "She means nothing to me."
"Fine," said the Captain-Supervisor. "Then you won't mind what's going to happen next."
He gestured to the sergeant. The armor-clad soldier walked over and reached down for the Princess. Leia reached up to grab his hand, slipped a leg under his, and pulled and kicked simultaneously. As the trooper went crashing to the floor, she was rushing for the doorway, calling for Luke to follow.
No matter how she tried the door key and switch, it wouldn't open for her.
"You're wasting your time, my dear," Grammel advised her. "You should have gone for his weapon. The door is keyed to me personally, to certain close members of my staff, and to troopers who have the proper resonator built into their armor. You don't qualify at any level, I'm afraid."
Angry now, the sergeant was back on his feet, moving toward her with open arms. She started to run past him, stumbled, and went sprawling to the floor. Grammel loomed over her, his right hand forming into a fist.
"No," Luke exclaimed at the absolute last possible moment.
Grammel's hand paused in midair as he glanced back at him. "That's much better," he advised Luke. "Better to be sensible than obstinate. I'd find the stone anyway, of course, but you'd find the finding unpleasant."
Luke unsnapped a pocket, reached in. "You can't!" a voice objected. He turned to see the Princess staring up at him. Evidently she'd come to believe at least part of Halla's story. Or maybe, he corrected himself, she was simply playing out her part of the petty thief reluctant to part with hard-won goods.
"We've no choice." As long as Grammel didn't ask for names, he saw no point in volunteering any, faked or otherwise. Unwrapping the small box, he handed it to the expectant administrator.
Grammel eyed it, asked a question Luke hadn't prepared for. "What's the combination?"
For a second, Luke panicked. If he confessed that he didn't know the combination, his whole carefully fabricated lie would disintegrate here and now. So he took the only gamble he could.
"It's open."
Both he and Leia held their breath as Grammel touched the tiny catch. There was an audible click. Luke had never bothered to rescramble the combination after Halla had given him the box.
Captain-Supervisor Grammel stared fascinated at the fragment of glowing crimson. "Very pretty. What is it?"
"I don't know," Luke lied. "I have no idea what kind of gem it is." Grammel looked sternly at him. "It's true... I'm no gemologist or chemist." There, that much was easily said.
"Is the glow natural," Grammel inquired, "or the result of external excitation?" He moved the gem around in the box with a probing finger.
"I've no idea. It's glowed ever since we've had it, so I'd hazard a guess that it's a natural property of the stone."
The Captain-Supervisor smiled at him in a way he didn't like. "If you know so little about it, why did you steal it?"
"I didn't say we stole it." Grammel snickered derisively and Luke, playing the part willingly, assumed a defensive attitude. "All right, so we stole it. It was pretty and I'd never seen anything like it. Anything pretty and rare is likely to be valuable."
"You told me your field of expertise was extortion, not burglary," Grammel countered.
"The thing intrigued me and I had the chance to swipe it, so I did," Luke responded with a touch of belligerent bravado.
Apparently that was the right approach. "Sensible," Grammel conceded. He turned his gaze back to the splinter. "I don't recognize it either. As a gem it's not very impressive... not faceted or even trimmed for cutting. But you're right about it being unusual. The radiant property alone is enough to mark it as that." Abruptly, he stopped turning it over and over with his finger, moved his hand away. "It's not harmful, is it?"
"Not so far," Luke conceded, affecting an attitude of sudden concern. Let Grammel sweat a little! "You haven't suffered any ill effects since it's been in your possession?"
"Not until we were brought here." That almost produced laughter from the administrator.
"I think," he went on slowly, putting the box down on his desk and moving away from it, "that I'll have it analyzed professionally before I come to any conclusions about it." He looked up amiably at Luke.
"It's been confiscated, of course. You may consider it your fine for being involved in the fight."
"We were the ones assaulted," Luke argued, for appearance's sake.
"Are you disputing my judgment?" Grammel asked dangerously.
"No, Captain-Supervisor!"
"That's good. I can see that you're an intelligent young man. Pity your companion works her mouth to the exclusion of her brain." Leia glared at him, but for once had the sense not to say anything.
"I believe we can work something out. Meanwhile, it remains that you two are here on this world illegally, in defiance of a great deal of Imperial effort to keep this installation a secret. So you will be detained until I can verify your story."
Luke started to speak but Grammel waved him to silence. "No, don't bother with names. I'd expect you to offer me an alias anyway. We'll take retinal prints, natural portraits and other suitable information. I have contacts on Circarpous, both legal and not so.
"If they send me back information that you two are known petty criminals on that world, and judging from your story you ought to be known, then what you've told me will be substantiated and we'll adjust relationships accordingly-and not necessarily to your detriment.
"If it turns out that no one unearths any information on you, or information that conflicts with what you've said, then I'll have to assume that everything you've told me is pure fabrication. In that unfortunate event I'll be forced to resort to indelicate methods of obtaining the truth." Luke would have preferred any kind of smile to the empty, inhuman expression Grammel wore as he said that.
"But there's no reason why we can't be pleasant about things until then. Sergeant!"
"Captain-Supervisor!" the noncom acknowledged, stepping over smartly.