Read Online Star Wars: The Adventures of Lando Calrissia by L. Neil Smith - Free Book Online
Authors: L. Neil Smith
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fly from this planet.”
“Which only goes to show,” Lando asserted, startled at the droid’s sudden insistent solemnity, “that I was right in the first place.” He stepped around the robot and started walking again. “You’re useless.”
“You are saying, then,” the robot’s voice inquired, very small, at the captain’s rapidly receding back, “that violence is the only solution to this problem, the only capability that is useful or desirable to you in a friend or companion?”
Lando froze, one foot still in the air, stopped dead by the icy disgust he heard in Vuffi Raa’s voice. He set the foot down, turned slowly to face the machine. Not only was he arguing with an artifact—he was losing!
Of course the little droid was right. Why else did he, Lando himself, insist on carrying nothing more than the minimal and miniscule weapon tucked away in his sash? Men of whatever species or construction acted with their minds, survived by their wits. Only a stupid brute would automatically limit himself to the resource of his fists or those of a friend.
That stopped Lando a second time: just exactly when had he begun to consider Vuffi Raa his friend?
“Well, Master,” Vuffi Raa mused, “as I understand the situation, you’re to search for whatever lock the Key may fit. Yet you haven’t any idea whether the lock—and it may be a more metaphorical than material entity—is even on this planet. Correct?”
Lando nodded resignedly. He’d let three regular hoverbuses to the spaceport whistle past the stop while he carefully explained things to the droid.
“You’ve got it, exactly as I just told it to you. So far, old lube-guzzler, you’ve proved your usefulness as a suitcase caddy and an audio recorder. Any more talents you haven’t revealed?”
He shifted on the transit-stop bench so that his back was to the little robot. He wasn’t so much annoyed with Vuffi Raa for being useless, as for the fact that the automaton had forced him to confront some of his own failings.
“I beg your pardon, Master, all of my internally lubricatedsubassemblies are permanently sealed and require no further—”
Lando turned back suddenly. “All right, cut out that robotic literalness. You’re a smarter machine than that, and we both know it. What I mean is, do
you
have any ideas? I’m fresh out, myself.”
Something resembling a humorous twinkle lived in Vuffi Raa’s single red optic for a fleeting moment. “Yes, Master, I have. If I had something ancient and historic, and valuable to look for, I know precisely where I’d look for information. I’d—”
Lando frowned, brightened, and leaped up off the bench. “By the Eternal, of course! Why didn’t you say so before? Why didn’t
I
think of it? It’s certainly worth a try! You may have some use, after all.” Lando paced hurriedly down the block just a few yards, turned into the nearest bar, then poked a head back out through the swinging doors.
“Wait for me out here!” he shouted, pointing to a sign in the window of the drinking establishment:
NO SHOES, NO SHIRT, NO EXTEE HELMET FILTERS
NO SERVICE
NO DROIDS ALLOWED
“But Master!” the little robot protested to the empty swinging doors, “I was referring to the public library!”
Having shaken his unwelcomely helpful companion, Lando gratefully entered the cool quiet of the Poly Pyramid, one of Teguta Lusat’s many inebriation emporia. There was nothing special about the place appearancewise or otherwise; he’d merely availed himself of the first, nearest ethanol joint on the boardwalk.
He sat down at a table.
What he’d really needed all along, he’d known the minute he left the governor’s office, was some kind of Toka gathering of the clans. Unfortunately, life rarely provides what one really needs. To judge from what Gepta had told him, the only people who truly knew what was what where the Sharu were concerned were much too primitive to
hold
conventions—or much of anything else.
“Which only goes to show,” Lando asserted, startled at the droid’s sudden insistent solemnity, “that I was right in the first place.” He stepped around the robot and started walking again. “You’re useless.”
“You are saying, then,” the robot’s voice inquired, very small, at the captain’s rapidly receding back, “that violence is the only solution to this problem, the only capability that is useful or desirable to you in a friend or companion?”
Lando froze, one foot still in the air, stopped dead by the icy disgust he heard in Vuffi Raa’s voice. He set the foot down, turned slowly to face the machine. Not only was he arguing with an artifact—he was losing!
Of course the little droid was right. Why else did he, Lando himself, insist on carrying nothing more than the minimal and miniscule weapon tucked away in his sash? Men of whatever species or construction acted with their minds, survived by their wits. Only a stupid brute would automatically limit himself to the resource of his fists or those of a friend.
That stopped Lando a second time: just exactly when had he begun to consider Vuffi Raa his friend?
“Well, Master,” Vuffi Raa mused, “as I understand the situation, you’re to search for whatever lock the Key may fit. Yet you haven’t any idea whether the lock—and it may be a more metaphorical than material entity—is even on this planet. Correct?”
Lando nodded resignedly. He’d let three regular hoverbuses to the spaceport whistle past the stop while he carefully explained things to the droid.
“You’ve got it, exactly as I just told it to you. So far, old lube-guzzler, you’ve proved your usefulness as a suitcase caddy and an audio recorder. Any more talents you haven’t revealed?”
He shifted on the transit-stop bench so that his back was to the little robot. He wasn’t so much annoyed with Vuffi Raa for being useless, as for the fact that the automaton had forced him to confront some of his own failings.
“I beg your pardon, Master, all of my internally lubricatedsubassemblies are permanently sealed and require no further—”
Lando turned back suddenly. “All right, cut out that robotic literalness. You’re a smarter machine than that, and we both know it. What I mean is, do
you
have any ideas? I’m fresh out, myself.”
Something resembling a humorous twinkle lived in Vuffi Raa’s single red optic for a fleeting moment. “Yes, Master, I have. If I had something ancient and historic, and valuable to look for, I know precisely where I’d look for information. I’d—”
Lando frowned, brightened, and leaped up off the bench. “By the Eternal, of course! Why didn’t you say so before? Why didn’t
I
think of it? It’s certainly worth a try! You may have some use, after all.” Lando paced hurriedly down the block just a few yards, turned into the nearest bar, then poked a head back out through the swinging doors.
“Wait for me out here!” he shouted, pointing to a sign in the window of the drinking establishment:
NO SHOES, NO SHIRT, NO EXTEE HELMET FILTERS
NO SERVICE
NO DROIDS ALLOWED
“But Master!” the little robot protested to the empty swinging doors, “I was referring to the public library!”
Having shaken his unwelcomely helpful companion, Lando gratefully entered the cool quiet of the Poly Pyramid, one of Teguta Lusat’s many inebriation emporia. There was nothing special about the place appearancewise or otherwise; he’d merely availed himself of the first, nearest ethanol joint on the boardwalk.
He sat down at a table.
What he’d really needed all along, he’d known the minute he left the governor’s office, was some kind of Toka gathering of the clans. Unfortunately, life rarely provides what one really needs. To judge from what Gepta had told him, the only people who truly knew what was what where the Sharu were concerned were much too primitive to
hold
conventions—or much of anything else.
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