"What did you learn?" Qui-Gon noticed that Nil was looking at Zan Arbor worshipfully. His attention had drifted from guarding Qui-Gon.
"That I must not depend on the galaxy to recognize my greatness," Zan Arbor said. "I must depend on myself to raise the funds I need. A famine here, a disease there — what does it matter? They will get sick, they will go hungry for a time. Then they will pay for a cure." "I don't understand,"
Qui-Gon said.
Zan Arbor did not answer him directly. "There is morality in the galaxy, but I have not seen it," she mused. "I have seen greed and violence and laziness. If you look at it that way, I do them a favor. I thin out populations and the strong survive."
Qui-Gon saw behind the veil of her words to a truth that shocked him.
He struggled to conceal his disgust. His voice was calm and even when he asked the next question. "So you introduce a virus into a population so that you can then cure it?"
But Zan Arbor must have picked up something in his tone. "I forgot for a moment about the Jedi morality. You think this is wrong."
"I am trying to understand your reasoning," Qui-Gon said. "You are a brilliant scientist. It's hard to follow the turns of your thoughts."
The answer seemed to please her. "Of course I approached the problem scientifically. I used models. I calculated how many deaths it would take before a population panicked. Then I introduced the virus in a certain amount and waited for it to replicate. When a certain amount of people were killed, the leader would contact me. Then I would pretend to work on the antidote I already had prepared. When they were desperate and ready to open their treasuries to me, I dispensed it. So you see there were no unnecessary deaths."
Zan Arbor's eyes were shining with the pride of accomplishment. Qui- Gon saw that everything she said made absolute sense to her. He realized that she was crazy.
Did that make his situation easier, or more complicated?
"You are greatness!" Nil burst out.
Zan Arbor did not seem to register his praise. "I had to do this, you see," she said to Qui-Gon. "The mystery at the heart of the Force is my greatest research problem. I had to fund that research. If I get to the heart of the Force, I get to the heart of power. I get to the heart of existence itself."
"And when you do that, what next?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I will have all the power I need at last," she said. "Then friends I have left behind will understand that if sacrifices were made… I… made them for a good reason."
Qui-Gon noticed the slight hesitancy. "Do you mean Uta S'orn?"
"She is my friend. She has stood by me. Supported my work in the Senate. I was grateful, of course." Jenna Zan Arbor looked uncertain for the first time. "But one cannot let gratitude interfere with science."
"So when you discovered that her son was Force-sensitive, you saw a way to further your research," Qui-Gon guessed.
"He said yes right away!" Jenna Zan Arbor cried. "He would do anything for money. He did not realize the commitment he had to make. He was a scientific subject. Surely he should have known there were risks involved…"
"But he did not expect to die," Qui-Gon said.
"I did not expect it either," she said quickly. "But what kind of life did he lose? A life of despair. Uta grieved for her son every minute of her life while he was alive. It is no different now."
"So you believe she will understand," Qui-Gon said.
Behind Zan Arbor's coolness, he sensed unrest. "She must. It is logical."
"It will be an interesting conversation, I'm sure," Qui-Gon said neutrally.
"It is time for you to use the Force," she said suddenly, as if she regretted her words. "And this time, I want to see something more than your moving an object a few inches."
Qui-Gon summoned the Force. He closed his eyes and felt it around him, felt it connect him to the living beings here and the world outside — wherever he was. He gathered it inside his body to help it heal…
And he felt an answering call.
Someone else was here. Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon concentrated, drawing the Force around him.
No, not Obi-Wan. Someone else. She was holding someone else here, someone who was Force-sensitive. And whoever it was, he or she was very weak.
He heard beeping and opened his eyes. Zan Arbor sat at the console, leaning forward to study a monitor.
"Excellent," she breathed.
He let the Force slip away. She turned and scowled.
"I am tired," he said.
"Then you won't mind returning to your chamber to rest," she taunted.
Yes, he minded. But not as much as he had before. Someone else was here. Next time she let him out, he would be ready to fight.
Chapter 10
Before Obi-Wan could speak or move, Astri stepped forward. "Why do you want his light-saber?" she asked the boy.
He thrust out his chin. "What difference does it make?"
"What if you want it so you can use it against us?" Astri challenged.
"Why should we hand it over then?"
"I don't want to kill you!" the boy protested.
Astri studied him. "But you do want to find food for your family and your tribe. And you think if you had this weapon you could defeat the tribe on the other side of the mountain."
The boy stared greedily at the lightsaber. "I have seen what it can do."
"There are two problems with your plan," Astri said calmly. "The first is that you have to train for years in order to use a lightsaber.
Isn't that right, Obi-Wan?"
He nodded. "Even then, you have more to learn."
"So you wouldn't get anywhere," Astri concluded. "Except maybe you'd cut off your own foot. The second thing wrong with your plan is that it won't solve your problem. Maybe if you fought this tribe and won — which is highly unlikely, by the way — you'd get enough food for a week, or a month.
But you'd still be starving when the food ran out. You'd have to fight again. And this time the other tribe would be prepared to meet the attack."