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    Showdown At Centerpoint

    Page 8
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      interior of the pad, tracing the eireuits, the logic paths, the potentials

      and safeties that were inside the machine. It had been asleep for so long,

      so very long, waiting for someone to wake it up. And now. Now was the time.

      He knew, knew with absolute certainty, how to make it work. No Q9-X2 here to

      tease him, or make him worry about trapdoors and stuff. He knew. He was

      sure. Anakin Solo reached out and pressed the center button of the

      five-by-five grid. The green button turned purple. Good. He paused for a

      moment, and then, stretching his fingers as far as they would go. he pressed

      all four of the corner buttons at once. They turned orange, not purple. He

      frowned. That wasn't quite what he had expected, but never mind. Move on.

      Starting at the top and moving counterclockwise, he pressed the center

      button of each outer row in turn. These did indeed turn purple. That made

      him feel a bit better. The keypad made the chiming noise again, but this

      time it wasn't just once. It kept going, over and over and over. Anakin

      closed his eyes once more and held his palm over the keypad. Yes. Yes. That

      was it. Starting from the bottom right, and moving clockwise, he pressed

      each of the corner buttons in turn. Each turned from orange to a reassuring

      purple as he pressed it. He paused, only for a moment, just before he pushed

      in the last one. Was this such a good idea? He was going to get in trouble

      for this, he knew that much. But would it be so much trouble that it

      wouldn't be worth it? No. He had to do it. There was no turning back now. He

      pushed in the last orange button. It turned purple, and suddenly the chiming

      noise was louder and higher-pitched. There was a low-pitch hum from behind

      Anakin, and he turned around. A section of the floor was sliding away. For a

      moment he wondered if he had been wrong about trapdoors. But then a whole

      complicated console rose slowly up out of the floor, a strange-looking

      control panel, all in the same silver stuff as the chamber itself, in front

      of a stranger-looking little seat that looked as if it were intended for a

      being that bent in different places from a human. Hopping with excitement,

      all doubts forgotten, Anakin sat down in the odd little chair and did not

      even notice that it was adapting itself to his body, reforming itself,

      lifting him up and moving him forward so he would be able to reach the

      controls more comfortably. He stared at the instruments for a full minute,

      then extended his arms and spread his fingers out as far as they would go.

      He shut his eyes and reached out into the intricately, beautifully

      complicated universe of switches and paths and controls and linkages behind

      the knobs and levers and dials that covered the control panel. Power

      ratings, capacitance stowage, vernier control, targeting subsystems, safety

      overrides, shielding constraints, thrust balancing. What they all were, what

      they all meant, how they all worked, and worked together-all of it flowed

      into him, as if the ancient machines were speaking to him, telling him their

      story. He knew it all. He knew it all now. Anakin put his hands on the

      control panel and felt it all flow through him. Wake it up. He had to wake

      it up. The whole system had slept for so long. It wanted to come awake, to

      revive itself, to do its proper work. He moved as if he were asleep, in a

      dream, moving to what his ability in the Force told him he could do, not to

      do what needed doing, or what he ought to do. He knew, somehow, the

      compulsion, the desire to make the system come on, was within himself, that

      the machinery was nothing more than machinery. But it fell as if it were the

      machine whispering to him, not his own in- stincts and abilities urging him

      on. Pull that long lever to start the initiator process activator. Twist

      that dial to bring the geogravitic energy transfer system on-line. Tap in

      that command sequence at the standard five-by-flve keypad to clear the

      safeties. Somewhere, deep below him, the ground shuddered slightly, and a

      low, powerful hum began to build. The chiming noise grew more and more

      intense, becoming louder and louder, the chiming coming faster and faster. A

      flat spot on the control panel twisted and shimmered and then started to

      swell upward, to form itself into a handle like a spacecraft's joystick.

      Anakin reached out to it with his left hand, barely aware of what he was

      doing, not noticing that the handle was lorming itself, reshaping itself, to

      fit itself to his hand. A graphic display appeared in the air over the

      handle. a hollow wireframe cube, made up of a grid of smaller cubes five

      high, five across, and five deep. All the smaller cubes were transparent,

      but, as Anakin watched, one cube, in the far lower left corner, turned

      green. Slowly, carefully, he pulled back on the joystick. The solitary green

      cube turned purple, and suddenly the three transparent cubes it touched

      turned green. The corner cube turned orange, the second layer turned green,

      and a new layer of cubes turned purple. The colors spread out until the

      entire five-by-five-by-five grid shifted through green to purple to bright,

      glowing orange. The ground trembled again, and the hum of power grew deeper,

      and. somehow, more emphatic, more solid, the sound of massive energies

      waiting to be unleashed. Anakin let go of the joystick. At the moment he

      did, the chiming slopped. The control chamber was suddenly silent as the

      power hum dropped away into lower and lower frequencies, until it was so

      deep a tone it was below the threshold of hearing. The joystick melted away,

      flattened itself back down into the control panel. And there, in the blank

      space at the center of the panel, a new button created itself, flowing up

      out of the panel surface, shaping itself into a disk about six centimeters

      across and a centimeter high. As he watched, the button shifted its color,

      changed from silver to green, green to purple, purple to orange, plain

      orange to a throbbing, pulsating orange, pulsing from the color of molten

      iron to the ciull near red of a dusky sunset. The chamber was silent. Anakin

      stared in open-mouthed fascination at the final button, his eyes wide, the

      light of the throbbing orange button throwing weird and shifting colors onto

      his clothes, his face, his eyes. The button. The button was there. It called

      to him, or else his own compulsion, his compulsion to make machines work, to

      make machines do, called from deep inside himself. He did not know. He did

      not care. He reached out his left hand. He held it poised over the button

      for a moment. And then he pushed it down. Lightning flared out from the apex

      of the central cone in the great chamber, lancing out toward each of the

      lower cones, slamming into them with sparks and fire. Thunder, deafeningly

      loud, the sound of the earth eracking open and splitting itself apart,

      roared out through the great chamber. Blinding light exploded out from the

      lightning strike to reflect off every silver surface, flooding the chamber

      with brilliance. The lesser cones answered back, sending their own

      thunderbolts hack to strike at the top of the center cone, blasting it into

      incandescence. Then, as suddenly as it had be
    en there, the lightning was

      gone, and the cones were as they had been, unaffected by the massive power

      that had played around them. The sound of the thunder echoed through the

      chamber, reverber- ating back and forth like the angry war cry of some

      long-forgotten god. The chamber shuddered and shook with the thunder.

      Chewbacca, aboard the Falcon, was thrown from his bunk as the ship' bounced

      and lurched along with the chamber. He was halfway to the ship's control

      room before he eame fully awake and realized the ship was on the ground. Not

      just on the ground, but under it, in a sealed chamber, with no hope of

      escape. Shields. The Falcon's shields would provide at least some

      protection. He had to get everyone aboard, and fast. He turned and headed

      for the open access ramp. The twins had gotten out from under the ship. They

      were on their feet and struggling to stay that way as the ground bucked and

      heaved under their feet. Chewbacca shouted for them to get aboard, but the

      echoes of the thunder were so loud that even his voice did not carry. He

      waved his arms, gesturing for them to get aboard. Jacen saw him and nodded

      vigorously. He grabbed his sister's arm and pulled her toward th e ramp. The

      simple effort of trying to move at all was enough to knock them both off

      their feet. But they kept on moving, crawling toward the access ramp. The

      shaking of the around seemed to ease off, even as the echoing roar faded

      away. But Chewhacca had no illusions that things would stay quiet for long.

      He rushed down the ramp even as the twins were crawling up it. The others.

      He had to get to the others. Moving as if he were on the deck of a

      storm-tossed ship in the sea, he made his way to the far side of the ship.

      The hovercar had toppled over on its side. As he moved toward it the side

      hatch popped open and Kbrihim came crawling out, half carrying, half

      dragging his aunt Mareha. She seemed to have a bad cut on the left side of

      her head. She looked half-stunned. Somehow, without even knowing how he did

      it, Chewbacca crossed the distance to the hovercar. He reached out and

      lifted Mareha away from Ebrihim's side, then tucked her under one arm and

      lifted Ebrihim down to the ground with the other. He shouted at Ebrihim to

      get aboard the Falcon, and pointed toward the ship. Either Ebrihim could

      understand what Chewbacca was saying or else he understood the gesture. He

      nodded and started toward the ship. The ground had all but stopped moving,

      and Ebrihim was to walk more or less without being knocked over. Chewbacca

      looked toward the ship himself and saw Qy, down and inert, slumped over next

      to his charging stand. Still carrying Marcha, he moved to the charging stand

      and examined the situation. The droid looked completely dead and motionless.

      Chewbacca pulled at the cable connecting the droid to the charger, but the

      connection seemed to have gotten jammed somehow. Chewbacca yanked harder,

      and the cable snapped. He scooped the droid up in his free hand and headed

      for the Falcon. At that moment the lightning struck again, blasting out from

      the central cone toward the six smaller cones that surrounded it. Chewbacca

      looked up involuntarily to see the dazzling bright display, but then

      realized his mistake and looked away before he could be blinded by the

      light. The light he could look away from, but the sound, the overwhelming

      sound-there was nothing he could do to shut that out. He hurried toward the

      ship as the lesser cones answered back to the master, sending their own

      bolts of fire back toward the central cone. The noise redoubled, louder than

      ever, and the ground bucked harder, nearly knocking Chewbacca over. The

      Falcon was bouncing on its landing jacks, riding their shock absorbers.

      Chewbacca staggered around to the far side of the ship and got to the entry

      ramp. He had to time his rush up the ramp between the buckings and surgings

      of the silver surface of the ground. Judging the moment to be right, he

      rushed aboard ship. He hit the switch to raise the ramp, then got to the

      lounge. He set the Duchess Marcha and Q9-X2 down on the deck as gently as he

      could. Ebrihim had already produced a first-aid kit from somewhere, and

      knelt down next to his aunt. The two Drall, the droid, the twins-Chewbacca

      suddenly realized that Anakin wasn't there. He had half assumed the youngest

      child would be with the twins. He turned and headed toward the door.

      "Anakin's safe!" Jacen shouted over the thundering din, clearly reading

      Chewbacca's thoughts from his action. "He's in some sheltered side tunnel. I

      can feel him in the Force. He's not hurt, and he's feeling more scared we'll

      be mad at him than scared he'll get hurt. I think he set this off."

      Chewbacca just stood there and stared at Jacen for a moment, unsure what to

      do. He had sworn to protect the children above all else. If Anakin were

      indeed safe, then he could button up the ship and wait this thing out. But

      if-if-Anakin were in danger, then what could he do? Search all the endless

      side corridors for him during this massive disturbance? But if he did that,

      he would be exposing the ship, and those aboard her, to greater danger. He

      would have to get the shields raised and lowered so he could go in and

      out-and no one besides him knew the ship well enough to keep the shields up.

      "lo keep the others safe, he would have to stay here. Very well. It was not

      certain, it was not perfect, but it was the best judgment, the best decision

      he could make under the circumstances. If he had judged wrong, and harm came

      to Anakin as a result, then, he knew, his own life would be forfeit, and

      rightly so. It took him but a moment to think it all through. But thought

      was nothing without action. He rushed for the cockpit and activated the

      Falcon's, shields at full strength. The sound faded away somewhat as the

      shields engaged. Chewbacca tried to activate the ship's rcpulsors to raise

      her up off the heaving deck of the chamber, but they would not engage. He

      checked the propulsion readouts. Every propulsion system was offline. He had

      no idea why. But there was no time to worry about that now. He needed to get

      the ship up off the deck before it was bounced apart. Even without the

      propulsion systems, there was a way to do that. Chewbacca worked the shield

      controls, shifting power away from the upper shields to the lower ones,

      extending the lower shields as far as they would go, and softening them, so

      they formed a gradual thickening membrane rather than a hard edge-if only

      the trick would work. The Falcon hesitated a moment, and then rose up off

      her landing jacks to rest on a cushion of softened lower-side shields. The

      bouncing and bucking and heaving of the deck was still there to be felt, but

      the shields smoothed it down and gave the ship a chance to ride it out. He

      set the shields to self-compensate and maintain their betting. He could at

      least hope the shields would protect them against what was happening, but he

      would not be able to do more than hope until he knew what was going on. All

      he knew for sure was that it seemed to be happening above them all. He

      looked up, just as another spectacular cycle of lightning bursts flashed

      back and
    forth between the tops of the cones, and then another, and another.

      The cycle was clearly growing faster, and more powerful. There was no way of

      knowing what sorts of energy and radiation those bolts were putting out.

      Chewbacca could do little more than hope that the Falcon's shields would

      protect those inside against it all. The lightning transfers grew faster and

      faster, more and more powerful, until all the cone-tops were a constant

      blaze of light, joined together by spikes of fire. Then, it seemed, the

      cone-tops drew the fire in, absorbing the energy that flowed around them.

      The roaring thunder of the lightning faded away as the cone-tops flared and

      flickered with energy, light of every color sparking and shimmering on their

      surfaces. Just when Chewbacca thought the display had reached its climax, he

      realized the scintillating colors W'cre flowing down the cones, toward the

      bottom of the chamber-toward the Millennium Falcon. Chewbacca tried

      frantically to activate one of the propulsion systems, any of the propulsion

      systems-but ail of them stayed stubbornly off-line. Suddenly the entire ship

      was balhed in lightning, a firestorm of sparks and flares that coursed

      around the shields, sparking and flaring everywhere. Every circuit breaker

      and safety cutoff in the ship tripped at once, and Chewbacca made no effort

      to reset any of them. He had no desire to have any active circuits running

      with that much power flowing around the ship. As suddenly as it had flowed

      over the ship, the wave of power swept past it. Chewie craned his neck

      around to watch the energy wave moving, just in time to see it incinerate

      the hovercar, detonate Q9's charging stand, and set everything else left

      outside ablaze. The blaze of energy swept on, swooping up the sides of the

      chamber's conical interior wall, rushing up toward the apex of the chamber,

      a ring of seething power that grew brighter, more powerful, more energetic

      as it moved higher up the cone. The ring of fire merged into a single point

      of raging power at the apex of the cone and exploded outward in a torrent of

      light that streamed forth in all directions, blindingly bright. The walls of

      the cone seemed to shudder, shake, expand as the power burst rippled through

      them. Another stream of scintillating power coursed down the big central

     


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