The Fight to Survive (10 page)

The rocks stayed stationary. The ground didn’t move.

Boba stood up again, carefully. He took a step, then another. So far so good. The dizziness came and went, and, finally, Boba realized what it was that felt so strange.

It was the gravity itself! It was strong one moment, weak the next; now tilting him forward, now back. It came and went in waves.

Boba started off again, uneasily, holding onto a stone wall that ran along the road. By the time he got to the edge of the town, he was walking in a more or less straight line.

Or so he thought.

“I see you’re a newcomer,” said a voice from behind him. “A newcomer, yes.”

Boba turned and saw a skinny male in a long black coat. He looked almost human except that he had white feathers instead of hair on his head, and his long fingers were slightly webbed. His face
had a pinched, worried look, as if it had been shrunk.

“I can tell by your walk,” said the being in the long black coat. “By your walk, yes.”

“So what?” Boba said. The dizziness was making him sick to his stomach, and he wasn’t feeling too friendly. “And why does the gravity here come and go like the
wind?”

“Why, you have it exactly,” said the man, or whatever he was. “It’s the moons crisscrossing, now cancelling one another, now doubling their pull. It makes walking hard.
That’s why we locals prefer to soar, yes.”

Boba looked for wings under the long coat, but he didn’t see any. “You are a native, then, of this world?”

“Bogg 4? No. Of all the moons, of all the moons, yes. Say, you’re pretty good, kid. Pretty good, yes.”

“Huh?”

“At the walking. You’ve almost got it down, yes.”

They introduced themselves to each other and walked together into the town.

Aia (for that was his name) explained to Boba that the moons of Bogden were a kind of outlaw heaven, where no warrants were served and no questions were asked.

“What does that mean?” Boba asked.

“It means that no one wonders why a ten-year-old boy is wandering around on his own. No one, yes.”

And it was true. Boba was even more invisible here on Bogg 4 than he had been on Kamino or Geonosis. The streets in the town were crowded with creatures from every corner of the galaxy, all
walking with the same rolling gait, and none paying the slightest attention to Boba and his companion.

The gravity came and went in waves as the moons overhead (and unseen “below”) slid in and out and around one another, sometimes dark, sometimes bright. Boba was still dizzy. But he
was getting used to it.

“So tell me,” said Aia. “Why are you here, yes?”

“A short visit,” said Boba cautiously. He wasn’t sure who he could trust and who he couldn’t. “I’m looking for a certain man who hired a certain bounty
hunter.”

“Lots of bounty hunters on Bogg 4,” said Aia. “Dangerous characters, yes. They come here to hang out and trade info. To get new jobs. They usually only associate with one
another, yes. Never with their prey. You don’t have a bounty on you, do you, yes?”

Boba laughed. “No way. I’m the son of a bounty hunter.”

“Here, then,” said Aia, stopping in front of a low tavern that fronted on the narrow street. A wooden sign said
THE BONNY BOUNTY
. “This is where the
bounty hunters hang out, yes.”

Boba looked in the window. The place was almost empty. He could see long tables, guttering candles, and a smoky fire. “I will wait here, then,” said Boba, “while my ship is
being repaired by Honest Gjon.”

“Honest Gjon?” said Aia. “Oh dear, yes.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I mean, no, nothing. Never mind. I’ll leave you here, yes.”

“You’re not coming in?” Boba asked. Aia was his only guide. The last thing he wanted was to be alone in this strange place.

“No, my, uh…religion forbids it, yes.”

“Religion, my reptilian foot!” Suddenly two figures were standing in the open door of the Bonny Bounty. “He’s not coming in because he’s a thief!” said one.
“And he knows that we know it!” said the other.

On the right was a birdlike humanoid with leathery skin and a broad beak. Boba recognized him as a Diollan. On the left was a green and reptilian Rodian. Boba knew that members of both species
often became bounty hunters.

“This man is wanted for picking pockets!” the Diollan said.

“He stole from me, too,” said the Rodian.

They grabbed Aia, each taking one of his skinny arms. “Oh, no, yes, no!” cried Aia, excitedly. He twisted and turned but couldn’t get free.

Boba thought of the black book:
A favor is an investment
. Maybe if he did Aia a favor, it would pay off. At least he would have a guide. “How much does he owe you?”

“Twenty credits,” said the Diollan. “Same here,” said the Rodian.

“Here.” Boba counted out forty credits, twenty for each. That left him ten. He wondered if it would be enough to buy something to eat.

The Rodian and the Diollan let go of Aia while they counted their money. As soon as his arms were free, Aia opened his black coat like a kite, bent his knees—

And jumped. Straight up. He soared up, over the rooftop, and out of sight.

Boba watched, dismayed. There went his investment.

The Rodian and the Diollan barely noticed. They turned and went back inside the tavern.

Boba followed them. Surely they owed him something. He had done them a favor, after all, by giving them their money back. “Maybe you can help me,” he said. “Are you bounty
hunters?”

“Sure are,” said the Rodian, with a laugh. “Are you bounty?”

“I am Jango Fett’s son,” said Boba. “Perhaps you knew him?”

The Diollan and the Rodian both looked at Boba with new interest. They took him to a table and signaled for the innkeeper, who brought food and tea. The tea was bitter but it made Boba feel less
dizzy.

In fact, the more he drank the less dizzy he felt.

“We knew your father,” the Rodian said.

“A great bounty hunter and a great man,” said the Diollan.

Boba told them the whole story of how his father had died and everything that had happened since. He hoped he could trust them because they were his dad’s colleagues.

Somehow, talking about his father’s death made Boba feel better. It made it seem less like a tragedy and more like a story. Boba wondered if that was why people told stories—to get
over them.

“My father mentioned a client,” Boba said. “I thought I might find him here.”

“His name?”

“Count, uh…” Boba suddenly remembered that Tyranus was a name no one was supposed to know. “Count Dooku,” he said, using the name the Count had used on
Geonosis.

“Dooku?” said the Diollan.

“Not here!” said the Rodian.

“You must go to—Coruscant!” they both said together.

“Are you sure?” Boba asked, confused. Coruscant was the planet where the Republic and the Jedi had their headquarters. Why would Tyranus be there?

“Yes, yes, absolutely sure!” said the Rodian.

“Positively. Go to the Golden Cuff tavern in Lower Coruscant,” said the Diollan.

“Tell the bartender who you are looking for,” they both said together. “He’ll know immediately what to do!”

“Thanks!” said Boba. He tried to pay his bill but the bounty hunters insisted on treating him. Boba thanked them again and headed back to the landing pad where he had left his
starship with Honest Gjon.

As soon as he had left, the Diollan and the Rodian turned to each other and grinned.

“That’s the best kind of bounty,” said the one.

“The kind that delivers itself and saves us the fuel…
and
the trouble!” said the other.

The tea was wearing off, Boba could tell, as he headed back for Honest Gjon’s landing pad. He felt dizzy again. Not as dizzy as before, but a little bit.

The moons of Bogden were wheeling across the sky. Some were small, some were large; some were dark, and some were bright.

Boba could hardly believe his luck. He had picked the right moon, Bogg 4. He had found the right bounty hunters, the Diollan and the Rodian. And on his very first try, he had located Tyranus. He
had even eaten dinner, and it hadn’t cost a credit!

A favor is an investment
. He had meant to do the favor for Aia. Instead he had done it for the bounty hunters, and it had paid off.

Now all he had to do was get in his starship and go to Coruscant.

There was only one problem. The landing pad was empty.

Slave I
was gone.

Boba sat down on the ground, under the wheeling, spinning Bogden moons. He was dizzy again. The tea had worn off completely.

His starship was gone. So was the black book that contained Jango Fett’s code. So was his father’s battle helmet—his legacy.

Even his money was gone, except for ten credits.

Gone, all gone. How could he have been such a fool? How could he have let his father’s memory down? How could he have trusted Honest Gjon? He put his head in his hands and moaned in dismay
and self-disgust.

Then he heard a clucking sound. “Tut, tut, yes.”

It was Aia. “I was afraid of this,” the skinny moon-being said. “That’s why I ran back. But I was too late. That Honest Gjon is a crook, yes.”

“So are you,” Boba pointed out. “You steal things.”

“Only my fingers steal,” said Aia, holding up both webbed hands. “And only what I need, yes. To prove it, I will help you find Honest Gjon. Not so honest, yes.”

Boba felt a glimmer of hope. “Where did he go?”

“His shop. He tears ships down for parts. So they can’t be traced, yes.”

“Then we must hurry,” said Boba, jumping to his feet. “Before he begins to tear
Slave I
apart. Where is this shop of his?”

Aia pointed straight up, toward a jagged, spinning moon.

“Oh, no!” Boba sat back down. “He has taken it to another world.”

“Yes, of course. He thinks you can’t follow, yes.”

“But he’s right! I can’t!”

“But you can,” said Aia. “Come. Come with me, yes.” And he took Boba’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

“If you were any older or any bigger, this would be a problem, yes,” said Aia as he led Boba up the path. “As it is, we may just make it, yes.”

“Make what?” The path twisted and turned up a rocky hill overlooking the landing pad.

“You will see, yes.”

Boba saw—and didn’t like what he saw.

The path ended at a cliff.

Boba gripped Aia’s big hand and leaned out, looked up, looked down. Above, he saw darkness, a few moons, and many stars. Below, he saw only darkness.

He was dizzy again.

“The gravity waves rise and fall with the moons, yes,” said Aia. “If you get high enough, and if you know what you are doing, you can ride them. Like a bird on the wind,
yes.”

All of a sudden, Boba got it. And he didn’t like it.

He backed away from the edge of the cliff, but not fast enough. Aia was already stepping off into thin air—and pulling Boba with him.

Boba was falling.

Then he wasn’t.

He was rising, soaring, slowly at first and then faster, faster, faster. Rising up through the air.

“You have to ride the vectors, yes,” said Aia, whose coat was spread wide like a kite, like wings. He squeezed Boba’s hand. “When one vector gives out, we cross to
another, yes.”

Let’s hope so
, thought Boba.

Aia pulled Boba with him. They plummeted down, then started to rise again.

They were heavy one moment, weightless the next.

Boba ignored the lump rising in his throat for as long as he could.

Then he lost it.

“Yu-ck!” said Aia. “If I had known you were going to do that…I would have…yes…”

“Sorry,” said Boba.

He was feeling less dizzy. The higher they soared, the easier it got. All Boba had to do was hang on to Aia’s hand and follow. Other figures darted in and out of the clouds. All of them
were small like Aia.

Aia waved at them.

“We are the couriers, yes,” he said to Boba. “We are the only ones light enough to travel from world to world. You too, yes. As long as you stay with me.”

Don’t worry
, Boba thought, squeezing Aia’s hand.
I’m sticking with you!

It was getting cold. Boba looked down. He immediately wished he hadn’t.

Bogg 4 was a tiny lump of stone and dust, far away. The stars were too bright. It was hard to breathe.

We’re almost in space!
Boba thought.
We have soared too high!

“There, Bogg 11, yes,” said Aia, pointing up ahead to where a smaller, darker moon was about to cross Bogg 4’s orbit. Gravity was pulling at both moons, tangling their clouds
together in long streams, like seaweed.

“The foam is where the atmospheres brush one another,” Aia said. “That is where we make the jump, yes.”

“And if we miss…”

“Space is cold,” said Aia. “Eternity is cold. Hang on, hold your breath, yes!”

Boba held his breath. But he couldn’t hold on.

His fingers were numb and stiff with cold. He felt Aia’s hand slipping away.

“No!” cried Boba silently, since there was no air with which to shout or scream.

No air to breathe.

He closed his eyes. He was spinning, weightless, drifting away into The Big Isn’t. The nothingness of space. Of death.

Here I come, Dad
, he thought. It was almost a peaceful feeling.…

Then he felt gravity pulling at him like fingers, gently. Slowing his spin. Pulling him down.

Boba could hold his breath no longer. He gulped, expecting the cold rip of vacuum in his lungs.

Instead, he tasted air. It was hardly sweet but it tasted great to Boba.

He opened his eyes.

Aia had him by the hand again.

They were soaring in the sky of a different world. A smaller, smokier world.

“Bogg 11, yes,” said Aia.

They circled down toward Bogg 11 in long loops. Boba saw
Slave I
parked in a rocky little valley, surrounded by piles of spaceship parts.

“Luckily he’s just getting started,” Aia said. “We made it, yes.”

They landed on the side of a small, steep hill. Boba fell and rolled to a stop. He got up, dusted himself off, and started running down a rocky path, toward
Slave I
.