Trouble on Cloud City

7

As the morning wore on, Tenel Ka found herself growing more and more impressed with Lando Calrissian. She had never gotten to know the man very well, never spent as much time with him as Jacen, Jaina, or even Lowbacca had.

But as the former smuggler led them on a tour of yet another portion of his enormous, not-quite-finished amusement complex, it became increasingly clear that the man was intelligent and quick-witted, a loyal friend and a shrewd businessman.

Even as Lando explained each new attraction to the interested young Jedi Knights, she could tell he kept his eyes open for any clues to what really lay behind Cojahn’s death. He had asked them to use the Force to sense any hidden dangers at the construction site: workers with malicious thoughts, sabotaged assemblies, or substandard materials.

As they did this, Lando reviewed the SkyCenter’s work logs and message boards; he interviewed with subtle, probing questions any crew members they encountered. But the senses of the young Jedi revealed nothing more unusual in the work crew than sadness, curiosity, or indifference on the subject of their former boss’s demise.

Lando led them down one of twenty transparent corridors that spoked out from a central domed hub. “We call this area our Climateria, where visitors can choose from over a dozen different climates. In each zone,” he said, pointing down to the pie-shaped spaces between the transparent walkways, “people will be able to visit a holographic zoo that displays creatures living in that sort of climate, go on some rides, listen to music, visit informational exhibits, and eat food associated with that particular climate on various planets. For example, we have a rain forest climate, a low desert climate, an ocean climate, swamps and marshes—”

Tenel Ka had always thought that the rigorous training Master Skywalker had undergone on Dagobah sounded interesting and challenging. “May we visit this swamp climate?” she asked.

“Sure.” Lando beamed. “After all, that’s what you’re here for. My professional test cases. We used a few areas on Dagobah as models, as well as the Bith homeworld and a planet in the Hapes cluster. I can’t remember them all.” His voice grew wistful. “This project was Cojahn’s baby. He always got so excited when he talked about the different kinds of entertainment he was going to bring in here.”

Lando led them around the edge of the central hub until he came to a door marked Swamp, Marsh, Bog, Bayou. They stepped through the doorway and found themselves in a small antechamber.

“Here, put these on.” Lando handed each of them a gauzy jumpsuit of transparalon. “Best way to protect your clothes while we’re visiting this attraction. It… gets a little messy.”

They slipped the jumpsuits on over their boots and clothing, and crimped any excess material so that the transparalon formed a temporary seam, allowing each person to adjust the suit for its most comfortable fit.

Before the Wookiee donned his suit, Em Teedee detached himself from Lowie’s syren-fiber belt and the little droid hovered to and fro, “supervising” the process and making helpful suggestions.

Tenel Ka prepared to seal off the empty suit sleeve below the stump of her severed arm, but before she could reach over with her good arm, Jacen was already there doing it for her. It was the most attention he had paid her in days, and she was touched by his helpfulness. “Thank you Jacen, my friend.”

Lando rubbed his hands together. “Everyone ready? Let’s get into some mud.”

As they entered the swamps, Tenel Ka reached out with her Jedi senses to detect anything amiss. A tide of sounds and smells and tastes washed over them. The odors of mildew, algae, and decaying plant matter assailed her nostrils, yet she did not find them offensive. The air was warm and humid, though not uncomfortable. Chirrups, gurgles, croaks, buzzes, twitters, and growls chorused from every tree and muddy pool around them.

Occasionally, Tenel Ka noticed construction workers adding finishing touches to the exhibit—a bit more hanging moss here, another holographic swamp creature there—but otherwise, the impression of an unexplored swampland was surprisingly convincing.

She found a long vine dangling across their path and, on the assumption that this was also part of the entertainment, she wrapped her arm around it, tested her weight. It held. Then, grasping the vine a little farther up, she swung out halfway over a murky brownish-green pool and let go. She splashed down with satisfying force and found herself waist deep in muddy, lukewarm water.

Lando grinned. “Glad to see you’re getting into the spirit of this. That water’s perfectly clean, by the way. It’s been artificially ‘muddied’ with purified sand and food colorings.”

Tenel Ka watched with great interest as her transparalon suit repelled the “dirty” water. Inside the suit she was comfortably clean and dry.

“But whatever is the point of all this?” Em Teedee asked.

Lowie chuffed with laughter. Jaina and Jacen giggled. “It’s fun, Em Teedee,” Jacen said. “Loosen up a little and get into it.”

“I shall do my utmost, Master Jacen. Provided I don’t damage any of my circuits. It’s certainly a comfort that Mistress Jaina saw fit to waterproof my casing last year.”

Lando reached out and helped haul Tenel Ka back out of the mud. “I can show you some even better pools if you all want to go for a swim after midday meal.” He led them around a dense clump of trees and bushes. “This is where we’re going to eat.”

He gestured to an open area that hadn’t been visible from the trail. “We call this the Bayou Buffet.” He spread his arms and indicated a serving area fifty meters long. The tables were made to look like fallen and rotting logs whose tops just happened to be perfectly flat. A small Ugnaught construction worker tinkered with something under one of the tables.

“And over here is the stage,” Lando said, walking to a raised platform at the center of the open area. “How you doin’?” he greeted a scrawny young man with a wispy beard who was busily connecting pieces of a sound system to speakers embedded at the base of the stage. The young man nodded, but continued working.

Lando turned back to the young Jedi Knights. “Cojahn was planning on booking bands that could play real swamp music, maybe some Bith musicians. The band will provide entertainment while people sit and eat authentic meals from various swamp climates.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jaina said.

“Yeah, well,” Lando said wistfully, “I guess he never got around to booking a band before—”

“Excuse me, sir,” the scrawny young man on the stage interrupted. Tenel Ka sensed tension in the wispy-bearded boy.

“Yes?” Lando gave the boy his full attention.

“Begging your pardon, but Master Cojahn did book a band for this stage.”

Lando’s eyebrows went up. He looked relieved that one major detail had already been taken care of. “Oh? Which band? When do they start?”

The young man glanced around, as if to make sure no one was watching or listening, then lowered his voice and leaned toward Lando. “Call themselves Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes. And they already started.” He glanced furtively around again, nodded several times, and then said, “But they stopped.”

“Figrin D’an? Great band. Used to bump into them here and there in my smuggling days. But how could they have finished their gig already?” Lando mused. “We haven’t even opened yet.”

“Master Cojahn had them doing promotional appearances at casinos on Cloud City, to get some advance interest for SkyCenter here.”

“So where are they now?” Lando asked.

“Exactly,” the boy whispered, nodding as if Lando had discovered some deep truth. “They’re gone, disappeared, run off in the night. They were supposed to be here all the way through the grand opening, but—the same day Master Cojahn went over that balcony—the whole band packed up and left Bespin. No explanation at all. Didn’t even bother to collect the credits they were owed for the gig they did that day.” He nodded again.

“Didn’t collect their credits? That doesn’t sound like Figrin at all!” Now it was Lando’s turn to glance around to see if anyone was watching or listening. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice. “You’ve been a big help.”

“It sounds to me like they must have seen something or learned something,” Zekk said. “Leaving like that is a sign that someone’s afraid and on the run.”

“It’s not much of a connection,” Jaina observed quietly.

“No,” Lando said, “but it’s the best lead we’ve got so far. I’d say that the band’s disappearing on the same day Cojahn died is a bit too much of a coincidence. One way or another, I’ve got to find out what they know.”

“They are gone,” Tenel Ka pointed out. “How will you find them?”

Lando squared his shoulders and gave them all a determined look. “I’ll have to check the passenger records for that day, but I’d be willing to bet they went to ground in the safest place they could think of—on the Bith homeworld. And if I have to, I’ll follow them there to find out what happened.”