"What're you talking about? It has to be still inside the droid. That's where I left it."
"Let me tell you something more," said the smiling as-sembler. "You and your associates here are not the only ones who are interested in it. Some very powerful forces are searching for that same fabricated evidence."
"Who?" Boba Fett's hand shot toward the smaller creature, as though he were about to seize Balancesheet within his fist. "Who else is looking for it?"
"While you've been making your way here, I've been in contact with my own information sources; that's what I do. I hear all sorts of interesting and potentially prof-itable things. Only this time, I was approached directly by the other party involved; a representative from one of the most powerful men in the galaxy searched me out, to inquire whether I knew the whereabouts of that fab-ricated evidence against the late Prince Xizor, the same evidence that you found aboard Ree Duptom's ship Venesectrix."
"It must have been somebody from Black Sun, then. From whoever took over that organization after Xizor's death—"
"Not at all." Balancesheet gave a slow shake of his head. "From what I've been able to find out, neither Xi-zor nor Black Sun ever knew anything about whatever plot had been cooked up with this fabricated evidence. Besides, even if somebody in Black Sun found out about it now, why would they care? Prince Xizor is dead. Tying him to an Imperial stormtrooper raid on the planet Ta-tooine doesn't mean anything now."
"Then who—"
"Oh, but it gets even more interesting." On the metal ledge, Balancesheet seemed to vibrate with the pleasure of telling so many secrets. "The person who sent their representative here, looking for information about the fabricated evidence's whereabouts, seems to bear a con-siderable hostility toward you, Boba Fett. Or else he sim-ply doesn't want to risk the possibility of you finding that fabricated evidence before he does. Because he's the one who ordered the bombing raid on the Dune Sea, back on Tatooine. The bombing raid in which you yourself came very close to being blown to atoms. You managed to escape—obviously—but I wouldn't say that this very powerful individual has ceased wishing you were dead. And he'd be happy to make that come about, given the op-portunity." Balancesheet, multiple eyes glittering, leaned forward from its perch. "So you should appreciate the fact that I'm betting a lot on our doing business together, Fett. Because I could sell the information about your whereabouts to that other party, for a handsome pile of credits indeed."
"That'd be more efficient, at least," Dengar spoke up. "If all Balancesheet wanted was to eliminate us, it'd be easier to do it that way rather than firing off its own laser cannons." He shrugged. "Maybe the little guy's got a point."
"Maybe." Boba Fett appeared to mull it over for a second. "It all depends upon who this other person is, who not only tried to kill all of us, but is also looking for the same thing we are."
"Fine," said Balancesheet. "I'll tell you, and then you can make your own determination about what to do. The person in question is Kuat of Kuat, the head of Kuat Drive Yards."
Neelah was unable to stifle a gasp of surprise. I know him —the thought jumped unbidden into her mind, com-plete with an image of the powerful Kuat. That faded away as quickly as it came; she blinked and saw Boba Fett glancing in her direction. He said nothing, but turned back toward the assembler on the metal ledge.
"How do you know it was Kuat of Kuat who did all that?" Boba Fett's voice was tinged with suspicion.
"Why would the head of one of the largest engineering firms in the galaxy be interested in fabricated evidence against the late Prince Xizor? And why would he want me dead?"
"Questions, questions, questions." Balancesheet shook its head in mock despair. "They wouldn't be necessary if you trusted me more."
"I haven't stayed alive as long as I have in this busi-ness by trusting other creatures. So just answer them."
"Very well; I know it was Kuat of Kuat who ordered the bombing raid on the Dune Sea, because his represen-tative told me so, on his instructions. Kuat wanted me to be assured of his desire to have you dead, so that I would be confident of getting paid in case I came across any news of your whereabouts. And as to why he'd want you dead, and why he'd be interested in this fabricated evi-dence against the late Prince Xizor—" Balancesheet spread his raised claw tips apart. "Of that, I have not the slightest notion. But it does confirm in my mind that if we had what he was looking for, and given the vast wealth of Kuat Drive Yards at his disposal, we'd be able to force him to pay a substantial sum for it. And let's face it: you and I have considerable experience at bargaining for that kind of thing."
"Then the only problem," said Dengar, "is getting our hands on what he wants."
And what I want, thought Neelah to herself.
"How fortunate then that the fabricated evidence isn't with the Rebel Alliance, but someplace where it can be gotten at instead." Balancesheet's jagged smile almost seemed to split its triangular face in half.
"And also, that your new business associate—myself—knows where it is." The assembler looked back over toward Boba Fett. "We are in business together, aren't we?"
"All right," answered Boba Fett. "We'll work out the split later. After we get hold of the fabricated evidence and figure out the best way to cash in on it."
Balancesheet laughed, a sound like tiny, mistuned bells.
"What's so amusing?"
"It's so paradoxical." One of the claw tips wiped at the largest of the multiple eyes, in another parody of hu-manoid emotional gestures. "You've come all this way, looking for the answers you want, and the only means of getting those answers now is to find this phony evidence against the dead Xizor—and it's back on Tatooine!"
Neelah and both bounty hunters were stunned into si-lence for a moment. She found her voice first.
"Tatooine? How ... how did it get there?"
"Simple." Balancesheet wrapped its forelimbs around itself, the better to contain its growing mirth. "It's been there for quite a while now. You see, when our associate Boba Fett here"—the assembler gestured toward the hel-meted bounty hunter—"managed, through his impressive personal skills, to chase Bossk off Slave I, the fabricated evidence went with him, inside the emergency escape pod he used to get away."
"And how do you know this?" Boba Fett regarded the assembler with skepticism.
"My friend, you've been out of the loop, this whole time that you've been making the journey to this remote sector. If you were in contact with your own information sources, the way I am with mine, you might have heard an interesting piece of news that's been circulating through some of the seedier watering holes and meeting places of the galaxy. It seems that your fellow bounty hunter is holed up in the Mos Eisley spaceport back on Tatooine, and he has a certain ... item to sell. And he's looking for the right buyer for it. The item is rather unique, as I'm sure you'll appreciate; it's the fabricated evidence against the late Prince Xizor that supposedly linked him to the Imperial stormtrooper raid on a certain moisture farm on that planet. Of course, Bossk's attempts to unload these goods are complicated by the fact that he doesn't know the phony evidence's significance, its real value, or that Kuat of Kuat is in fact trying to locate it. If Bossk knew that, he could sell it in a heartbeat, for a very good price. But alas ... he doesn't know." The assembler's voice filled with a mocking sympathy for the absent bounty hunter. "That's what happens when you try to do things yourself, for which you should have contacted an expert like me."
"Advertise on your own time," said Boba Fett irrita-bly. "So Bossk has got it..." He nodded slowly, mulling over the information. "He must have found the cargo droid when he was aboard Slave I, before I called it down to the Dune Sea to pick us up. And he discovered the fabricated evidence about Xizor inside the droid and removed it, without knowing its significance but hoping that he'd be able to find some way of cashing in on it. I didn't have time to check the storage areas inside Slave I before abandoning it. So it seems I finally underestimated Bossk; I wouldn't have thought he had the native intelli-gence to have discerned any value in that cargo droid's contents."