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the name?"
"Nil something. Wait a minute." She rubbed the corner of her brow. "Now I
remember ... it was Nil Posondum. Or something like that." Neelah's expression
turned hopeful.
"Is that somebody important? Somebody I should know about?"
Dengar shook his head. "Never heard of anybody like that."
"Still . . ." Neelah looked a little crestfallen.
"It's something to go on."
"Maybe." He had his doubts about whether it was anything useful. He had even
bigger doubts about Neelah herself. Or whatever her real name is, thought
Dengar.
Keeping one's contacts primed for information was an essential part of the
bounty-hunter trade; he had been in and out of Mos Eisley and other scumholes
on a regular basis, listening and asking the right questions, and he hadn't
heard anything fitting her description. If anybody was looking for her, they
were doing it on the quiet.
That might make getting paid for finding her somewhat difficult.
Or else-another possibility rose in Dengar's thoughts-somebody doesn't want
her to be found. Boba Fett might have been working for someone who had wanted
this
Neelah to be disposed of, maybe in some way that left her still alive. What
better way than to strip out her memory and stick her on a backwater planet
like Tatooine? Though how long she would've stayed alive in Jabba's palace was
debatable, given the Hutt's murderous amusements. Whoever had sent her there
couldn't have been too concerned about her survival. Then why not just kill
her quick and fast, for whatever reasons they had, rather than leave her where
any number of the galaxy's hustling scoundrels, the criminal dregs that had
found employment with Jabba, might have spotted her?
His brain felt weighted down with all these questions stacking up on top of
each other. Mysteries and skulduggery were what one dealt with in the
bounty-hunter trade; all this reminded Dengar of why he had wanted to get out
of it. There must be an easier way to make a living.
Or a safer one. Now he had two potential bombs on his hands, either one of
which could result in a quick death for him, if he was lucky, or a messy one,
if his luck ran true to form. It hadn't been bad enough getting involved with
Boba Fett's fortunes; now he had to deal with the
enigmatic Neelah as well. She was a loose laser cannon by herself-if she'd had
a blaster, Dengar supposed he would've been crisped by now-plus there were
those unseen figures from her past, who'd put her here. They might not be too
happy about her turning up again. If they were the kind of people who hired
Boba Fett to do their dirty work for them, they wouldn't be likely to have too
many scruples about eliminating everyone hooked up with her.
None of it looked good. Which had its own upside The more risk, Dengar
reminded himself, the more profit.
That, more than anything in the so-called Hunter's Creed, was what governed
the actions of bounty hunters, from
Boba Fett down to himself. If there was a chance of being partners with Fett,
and reaping the rewards from that, he would have to ramp up his courage to a
new level.
"All right," said Dengar aloud. He unfolded his arms and pointed to the female
on the other side of the hiding place's main chamber. "Let's work out an
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
arrangement, you and me. Stipulation number one Don't try to kill me. If we're
going to get anything accomplished around here, that's a basic requirement."
Neelah appeared to think it over, then nodded.
"Okay."
"And if you try, I'm going to make sure it's your corpse that gets thrown out
of here. Got me?"
She nodded again, with just a trace of impatience.
"Number two I'm in charge here. I'm running the show-"
Neelah's anger flared. "Wait a minute-"
"Shut up," said Dengar. "It's for your own good. And it's just for the time
being. You get back to wherever you came from, you get your real name and
everything that comes with it returned to you, then you can do whatever you
want. But right now you don't even know who you are, you don't know who might
be gunning for you, you don't know anything about what the galaxy's like once
you get off this little rock heap's surface. Even if you could find some way
out of here without my help, you might poke your nose into some place like Mos
Eisley and get your whole head detached from your neck. There's plenty of
types who'd do that for you, even without knowing who you might be."
His lecture had a visible effect on her. "Very well,"
said Neelah sullenly. "You're in charge. For now."
The things I put up with, thought Dengar to himself.
It was all for Manaroo's sake; he had to keep that in mind. On the other side [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]