CHAPTER 16

As Callista watched him, her gray eyes bright with curiosity, Luke maneuvered the space yacht closer to the wandering comet. He entered the wispy coma where gas particles and ion trails scintillated against their shields, causing static over the comm system.

“This is the Mulako Corporation Primordial Water Quarry,” Luke said. “A long-term periodic comet that comes back every century or so. Right now it’s near its closest approach to the sun, and we’re at high tourist season.”

The space yacht approached the irregular lump swathed in a mane of frozen steam. Luke pointed out squarish machines crawling over the tarnished surface, strip-mining the ice. Gas geysers blasted volatiles into space where the comet’s meager gravity could not hold them, trailing a tenuous tail along the comet’s orbit.

“But what do they do here?” Callista asked. “I’ve never heard of this system.”

“Hey, you’ve been stuck inside a computer for decades,” Luke said.

“Don’t remind me,” Callista said.

“For much of the comet’s orbit,” he explained, “the mining corporation chops away water ice, storing and distilling it. They sell it at a premium to gourmets and high-class officials who like to show off that they settle for only the very best. This is absolutely pure water, formed at the creation of this solar system. Primordial ice, never before touched or recycled through organic life forms.” Luke shrugged. “Of course, it’s chemically identical to any other water, but they don’t mention that in their advertisements.”

“But why did you choose this place?” Callista said.

The Mulako Corporation Quarry sent a homing beacon, and Luke’s guidance computer locked on, shepherding them toward a cavernous opening surrounded by lights—brilliant yellow alternating with deep purple, harsh red, and some that looked black—transmitted for customers whose eyes saw in different portions of the spectrum.

“Close to perihelion,” Luke said, “the comet becomes one of the most exclusive resorts in this sector. The climate heats up, enough of the volatiles evaporate from the ice to form a breathable atmosphere, and people can live inside the snowball. It’s very unusual. I thought you might like it—besides, no one will ever find us here.”

Their yacht passed through the portal, beyond marker lights whose beams shone like lightsabers through the dense mist curling away from the comet’s surface.

“The selling point of this resort is its transience. The Mulako Corporation mines it out each orbit as the comet hooks toward the sun and becomes habitable. They rein-stall the facilities, open it to tourists for a few months, then close down again as the comet gets too close to the sun, where it becomes unstable with too much gas evaporating, new geysers erupting, even a small possiblity that the iceball will split apart from all the mining and tunneling. Then, when the comet races away from the sun and the gases begin to freeze out, there’s another several-month period when the resort is dug out again and reopened. When it finally becomes too cold, the quarry is closed to the public, and the mining company operates for the next hundred years out in deep space, strip-mining the newly deposited layers of ice.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Callista reached over to clasp Luke’s hand.

They landed in a warmly lit reception area. Oranges and yellows shone into the ever-present mist, and porter droids appeared to unload their luggage. Luke checked in, keying their reservations into an automated terminal, and the droids escorted them into the resort facility.

He and Callista held hands as they followed the baggage droids. Callista looked around, her cropped malt blond hair swaying slightly. She blinked at her surroundings and grinned. The Mulako Corporation’s stylistic logo—the letters MC traced within circles with a long cometary tail shooting out—adorned most of the doors and fixtures.

The cometary resort was filled with water and amazing tropical caverns, far warmer than a ball of ice might have suggested. The frozen walls had been polymerized, showing ice locked behind a molecule-thin impenetrable layer and lit by soothing blue lights. Sections of the wall had been cleared away so that the frozen gases could drift out like humidifiers, sending trails of mist along the floor. Droplets of ultraclean water dribbled along the walls like precious springs. Waterfalls hissed from the ceilings in a diamond curtain that gurgled softly into drains in the floor.

Callista’s face filled with childish wonder. “This is beautiful, Luke. All the water. I love the water.”

“I know,” Luke said. “You’ve told me enough stories about how much you miss your home planet, Chad.”

Callista looked wistful. She had grown up on a waterworld, living with her father and stepmother on a sea ranch, destined to follow in the family business. But her Jedi calling had been stronger, and she had been forced to leave her beautiful oceans … though she still longed for them.

The porter droids led them down gently curving corridors, past doorways of plush suites, until they came to the set of rooms Luke had reserved. Multicolored glow-lamps reflected off the polymerized ice walls, making it seem as if they walked through a rainbow caught in crystal.

Delighted, Callista stopped to kiss Luke. “This is so wonderful,” she said. “I can feel the power in this place, the energy. I know we’ll be able to do something here!”

Inside their spacious suite, fountains bubbled in the corners; mists drifted around the rooms, passing glowing heaters that made the multiple chambers comfortable and homey. The furniture was oddly shaped and of varying sizes, carved from rock inclusions that had been found inside the cometary ice crust, now bearing the ubiquitous company logo. The porter droids deposited their packs, and played prerecorded advertisements for the various restaurants and lounges available at the luxurious MC Quarry.

Luke hustled the droids out of the suite before they could begin a droning recitation of sightseeing opportunities. He shut the door and turned to Callista with a smile and a sigh. “We’re here,” he said. He slumped down onto a polished stone contour sofa. Callista joined him.

“According to the brochures, there’s plenty of things to do here,” Luke said. “We could explore the tunnels, or suit up and go out to the surface. The low gravity makes it fun to jump around,” he said. “Or we could see one of the erupting gas geysers. Those are supposed to be quite spectacular.”

She shook her head. “I just want to stay here with you, Luke. We can relax and talk … and just be alone for a while.”

He closed his eyes and realized how wonderful that sounded. “You won’t get any argument from me.”

Callista stared into the foaming fountain; her eyes took on a fixed, faraway look. Luke knew she must be focusing her thoughts, though he still could not sense her, as if the Force itself didn’t know she existed.

“I’m thinking of the oceans on Chad,” she said, not looking at Luke but fully aware he was watching her. “Especially at night at highest tide, when all the moons are full in the sky at the same time. The wander-kelp we kept corralled in mating season would begin to shimmer with captured phosphorus, glowing like an oil slick on fire.”

“What are wander-kelp?” Luke asked.

“We used to raise them at our sea ranch,” Callista said. “It’s sort of halfway between plant and animal—really stupid, but it moves under its own volition. A big mass of iodine-filled leaves that we could shear several times a year, distill, and sell for their medicinal content, while using the rest of the biomass as cheap protein fiber for animal feed.

“Times were tough. It’s not that the market went bad, but the Emperor’s crackdown fouled up the trade routes. All the tariffs and impossible regulations pushed our regular traders out of business. Sometimes we had to cook and eat the barnacles growing beneath our corral rafts. Of course, my family is all dead now … years ago, while I was trapped in that computer.”

Her lower lip began to tremble, and she fixedly refused to look at Luke. She clamped her lips together. “Part of me feels guilty for not staying with them—but I carried that around all the years I was a Jedi. I don’t have any regrets, just sadness.”

Now she turned and looked at Luke. Her eyes were dry and strong. “But my Jedi Master, Djinn Altis, came and showed me the Jedi way. He arrived on his big wandering ship the Chu’unthor, a ship with no destination, much like your own praxeum on Yavin 4.”

“I know,” Luke said. “We found the crashed and buried Chu’unthor on Dathomir and brought it back.”

Callista sighed soberly. “I suppose I must have known Djinn Altis was dead. Perhaps he ran afoul of the Nightsisters.” Her eyebrows knitted together. “I remember once when Master Altis took me on a long, low flight above the seas of Chad. We cruised over singing schools of cyeen and the patterns of tubular eels glowing pink in the moonlight. Master Altis taught me how to sense the life forms with my new abilities. I didn’t believe him at first, but when he showed me how easy it was, I knew I was a Jedi. He didn’t need to convince me. It was my family that required convincing—and I don’t think I quite succeeded in that.”

Luke stood up and went to a pitted black table and pulled out a small disc, a blue chit that gave them a meal discount in one of the Mulako Corporation’s fine restaurants.

“Let’s try something,” he said. Luke let his eyes fall half closed, channeling his thoughts through the Force in a simple exercise. The small chit lifted from the palm of his hand and hung suspended in the air. “I’m going to hold this up,” he said. “You try to nudge it. Bump it toward me. That should be easier than actually lifting it. Open yourself to the Force and let it flow. Just a slight push.”

“I’ll try,” Callista said doubtfully—then caught herself as Luke replied.

“There is no try.”

She answered, “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have said that.” Callista squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. Her breathing grew shallow, her expression tighter, more compressed.

Luke sent out small, questing tendrils to see if he could detect her manipulating the Force. The blue disc hovered motionless in the air.

Callista’s face became flushed with the effort, and finally she let out a shuddering breath and opened her eyes, her forehead creased with frustration. “I can’t. There’s nothing.” Before Luke could speak, she held up a hand. “Please don’t lecture me. Not now. You don’t need to train me. I know how to do it—but I can’t.”

Luke squeezed her hand instead. “Don’t lose hope, Callista,” he said. “Please don’t lose hope.”

* * *

Later that evening, Luke sipped on a glass of primordial ice water distilled from the comet’s reservoirs. Beaded droplets clustered on the outside of the glass. He looked at the mist rising along the floors and breathed the damp air, filling his lungs and savoring the sensation. “This is so different from the place I grew up.”

Callista snuggled next to him in one of the oversized seats. “Tell me about it,” she said. “I want to know everything about you.”

Luke let bittersweet memories flow back to him. “I once said that if there was a bright center to the universe, Tatooine was the place it was farthest from.” He shook his head. “A dry, hot place—a hopeless place. Anybody born there was likely to die there, going nowhere. My Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were moisture farmers, hardworking, closed-minded people. They knew the truth about my father, told me lies, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, that I wouldn’t want to pursue a dangerous and glorious life as a Jedi Knight. They wanted me to stay home where I would be safe … and completely uninvolved. They loved me deeply in their own way—but when you feel the calling of the Jedi, there’s no denying it.”

“I know,” Callista murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

“When Obi-Wan Kenobi began to train me,” Luke said, “I didn’t know how I was going to tell Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru.” He swallowed and felt his expression harden. “I never had the chance, though. The Empire killed them and burned their farm before I could get back. They would have killed me, too, if I’d been there.”

Callista brushed his arm with her fingertips, radiating a quiet warmth.

“Now Biggs is dead too,” Luke said. “Biggs Dark-lighter, the only one of my friends who actually escaped Tatooine. He went to the Imperial academy for a while, then joined the Rebel Alliance. I met up with him again at our base on Yavin 4, though I didn’t get much chance to talk with him. Biggs was my wingman when we flew against the Death Star. He saved me, but he died in the battle.”

“Was he your only friend there?” Callista said.

Luke stuck his finger into the fountain, letting the cool water trickle down his hand. “I had two other close companions, Camie and Fixer. We used to hang out at Tosche Station and talk about our dreams and how we were going to get off that dustball. Camie’s family grew hydroponic gardens underground and bought water from my uncle. Uncle Owen always said we were just wasting time, but we were exercising our imagination, thinking of things we could do—even if we never would. It kept us from going insane on that hopeless planet.”

He sighed. “I wonder if Camie and Fixer are still there. My life seemed like it was going nowhere,” Luke whispered, “and now I’m a Jedi Master. I’ve found a twin sister I didn’t know I had, and she’s the Chief of State. The Empire is defeated, and I’m reestablishing the Jedi Knights.” He gave a little laugh. “A lot has changed.”

He smiled down at Callista and stroked her hair. She had fallen asleep in his arms.