“We’ll go here first.” M’kim released the harness and gestured ahead in the direction of the thranta’s flight.
Behind an obscuring veil of white mist, a heavy green-brown cloud floated like a mat above the other layers of vapor. The dark island in the sky seemed solid enough, and as the thranta brought them closer, Jacen saw that the sludgy raft-cloud was actually a huge cluster of algae nodules. The airborne sacs of gas-filled plant life drifted at an equilibrium level in the clouds and photosynthesized by soaking up sunlight, water vapor, and chemicals from the clouds.
“Amazing!” Jacen said. “It’s like a living island.”
The thranta flapped its sail-like wings and drove them closer to the spinning, bobbling raft in the sky. “This is a place of solitude,” M’kim said. “We can talk here and rest without fear of being discovered. There’s no hurry. You’re not at risk with me.”
Jacen nodded. He was still deeply concerned about his friends, though, and worried about what else might be happening to them while he wasn’t there to help. He didn’t even know for certain that the two Jedi Knights had managed to rescue themselves from their precarious perch beneath Cloud City, but he believed his friends were resourceful enough to get themselves out of a fix like that.
The thranta hovered over the floating algae island. Uncertain, Jacen looked down at the squishy surface. But M’kim deftly danced off the back of his flying creature and landed on the soft clusters of algae sacs, bouncing on the surface of the green-brown nodules as if he were swimming.
The thranta rider lay back, gesturing for Jacen to join him. “Come on. We can watch the clouds go by and talk about what’s really happening over there in Cloud City.” His face turned grave. “I have a feeling you need to know this.”
Still holding the harness, Jacen stood up on wobbly legs and balanced on the back of the thranta. Then he jumped.
15
Jacen fell for the second time that day, but this time he landed on the soft, squishy mat of tangled algae clusters. It was like a damp organic mattress that floated aimlessly, carried by the winds. The bumpy green masses made a soft, uneven surface, like a cluster of lighter-than-air pillows.
Watching him, M’kim lay back laughing as Jacen stumbled, then fell on his face into the wet algae nodules. The greenish clusters shifted like a living mass of solid bubbles. One greenish-brown bubble popped with a splat in front of him, spraying Jacen with the strong, earthy smell of compost.
He struggled to wipe away the sticky juice, but finally lounged back and forced himself to relax. He could change his clothes later, and he desperately needed a rest.
Rootlike tendrils dangled from the bottom of the algae island to soak up moisture droplets and nourishing chemicals. Jacen listened to the breeze rustling the tendrils. He heard the little fluttering noises of small flying creatures darting in and around the tangled organic mat. He spotted tiny insects and colored plant-like things that made up the island complex, forming an entire ecosystem.
“I’m surprised there’s so much life around here,” Jacen said. “I thought Bespin was just…just an empty gas giant.”
“Nothing in the universe is really empty,” M’kim said. “Our troupe has traveled all over, and I’ve found very few places that are truly dead. Life is … tenacious.”
“Yeah, I sure didn’t expect to still be alive after that fall.”
Bespin had many different levels where life clung, whether in artificial cities, gas-storage refineries, or temperate-layer algae islands. Thunderheads gathered in the vast sky overhead.
Jacen crawled to the edge of the squishy algae platform and looked over the edge toward the soup of clouds far below. He saw flashes of lightning and deep glows that skittered beneath the surface. Large storms rose up as deep heat currents in the lower layers of the gas giant stirred and shifted. It still looked impossibly far down.
Jacen gulped. If M’kim hadn’t rescued him on his thranta, he would still be falling….
Free of its rider, the thranta swooped above and below them, circling the algae island, nibbling at the tender ends of the dangling root threads and playing in the sky. Watching the exuberant creature, M’kim laughed.
Jacen turned to the thranta rider. “What did you mean when you said that other people were ambushed and fell off Cloud City? Someone we know recently vanished off a balcony. The official report said he jumped to his death.” He shuddered, thinking of Cojahn and the long, long terror he must have endured during his drop through the clouds.
M’kim looked nervous and sad. “When was this? When did it happen?”
Jacen counted back. “It would have been… six standard days ago, I guess.”
M’kim nodded, pursing his lips. “Twelve Bespin days. Yes, that’s what I thought.”
“You know something about it?” Jacen jerked and tried to sit upright too quickly; the algae nodules shifted under him, and he had to squirm to regain his balance. “Please, tell me.”
M’kim looked away. His thranta swooped overhead again, giving its near-silent high-pitched call. “I saw it with my own eyes,” the thranta rider admitted.
Jacen scrambled closer to the thin, painted boy. “What happened to Cojahn? We need to know.”
The thranta rider stared off into the distant skies. The sunlight filtering through layers of mists dappled the tattoos on his face and skin. M’kim said, “I can tell you this much. Your friend didn’t jump of his own free will.”
“What happened to Cojahn?” Jacen pressed again.
“We were out practicing, flying around on the other side of Cloud City. We’d gone to the top to do loops around Kerros Tower. I was behind the rest of the group, because I’m not part of the actual act yet, even though I practice with the team. I saw a man on one of the outer balconies, but he wasn’t alone.”
“Who? Who was with him?” Jacen said.
“One big, angry man who looked like he was in charge, and a couple of thugs. I was surprised that the two thugs didn’t do the dirty work for the angry man.”
“What did the man look like?” Jacen said.
“Pretty strange. He had some sort of visor across his face, a red optical sensor, and short green hair the color of this algae you’re sitting on. He was quite unmistakable.”
Jacen swallowed hard as he recognized the description: Czethros! But the former bounty hunter and smuggler who had once promised to take revenge against Han Solo was now a respectable businessman on Ord Mantell—wasn’t he?
“I know who you’re talking about,” Jacen said, “but what would Czethros be doing on Cloud City?”
“That man shows up every once in a while,” M’kim said. “Things go on in Port Town and in some of the casinos that the Cloud City Gambling Authority intentionally ignores. I’ve heard rumors that a powerful criminal organization is trying to take over the gambling, entertainment, music … everything that happens on Bespin—and probably other planets as well. Nobody pays much attention to us thranta riders, but we see things….”
Jacen thought of the sky-rodeo performers darting past windows, looking in. Nobody would think to watch for a spy from the outside on a city in the clouds.
“That man with the green hair—Czethros, was it?—he comes here, supposedly on legitimate business. He meets with some of the important Exex.” M’kim shook his head. “But something strange is going on.”
“What happened to Cojahn on the balcony? Was he pushed?”
“They were having an argument,” M’kim said. “The man with the green hair seemed very sure of himself, but when Cojahn didn’t agree, the two thugs came forward to threaten him. Czethros waved them away. He just picked your friend up by the collar, yelled something at him, and tossed him off the balcony. Just… threw him over like a piece of garbage. The man fell.”