Джон Миллер - Star Wars - Lost Tribe of the Sith - Pantheon

«That’s Hilts. »

«— you and your little workers here exist to dig up worthless trivia. Well,» she said, turning, «you’re going to reveal that you’ve discovered the true Testament — one declaring that Seelah and those who follow her teachings today are the legitimate heirs to power on Kesh.»

One of Iliana’s comrades produced a scroll and shoved it at Hilts. Unspooling it, he goggled. «I don’t think this will work.»

«Oh, it will,» Iliana said. «The others are superstitious — all invoking one figure from our history or another. They’re in awe of our ancestors born on high — and they’re right to be. But they don’t respect the one they should.» She gestured to the parchment in Hilts’s hands. «That’ll change when you read that instead of the Korsin Testament. The simpler-minded will believe it, and follow me. That should be enough.»

Hilts exhaled, barely stifling a laugh. He regarded the woman, so full of energy and cleverness — all spent to no avail whatsoever.

No, of course she wouldn’t know, he thought. She’stoo young.

Iliana stared at him. «What?»

«I’m sorry,» Hilts said, gesturing to the scroll. «I admire your initiative, Iliana Merko. But there’s a reason no one’s tried this before. You wouldn’t know, unless you’d been here for a Testament reading — or spoken with someone who was.»

«What in blazes are you talking about?»

Slowly so as not to cause alarm, Hilts stepped to the right of the Sandpipes and approached a covered pedestal. «You see, I don’t read Korsin’s Testament. The Caretakers never do.»

Iliana watched, puzzled, as he returned with some- thing wrapped in rich fabric. «Then who reads it?»

« Yaru Korsin does.» Hilts pulled back the cloth, revealing a small pyramid-shaped object. A device —in a city that had none…

«This… is amazing. »

«It’s not good, Caretaker.»

«I didn’t say it was,» Hilts responded to his aide. «But it’s still amazing.»

As Kesh’s sun cast its first rays onto the city, Hilts and Jaye looked down upon the palace grounds from the balcony. They’d never seen the city so alive. A writhing carpet of humans and Keshiri blanketed what had once been the Circle Eternal, with people setting up portable shelters for protection against volcanic rain.

Celebrants began gathering the day after Iliana and her warriors had entered the palace, all staking locations in preparation for the Festival of Nida’s Rise. None of the regular citizens would be allowed in for the Testament reading, but it didn’t seem to matter. «This is a planet that needs a party,» Hilts said.

«They want a leader,» Jaye responded. Dark eyes looked up at the Caretaker. «That’s what I heard Iliana saying. All the humans hope some guidance will come from the Grand Lord’s words.»

Hilts chortled. «Well, at least they’ll be his words.» He shot a glance back into the palace, where Iliana and her companions stared in stupefaction at the ornate pyramid. «They’ll never even figure out how to turn it on.» That much was true, Hilts remembered; he had barely gotten the thing working during the last Testament Day, twenty-five years earlier. His predecessor had described it as a recording device, and had passed to him the ancient secret for activating it — but it had taken four tries for Hilts to get it right on the appointed day. He wondered if something was wrong with it. Would it play this year?

No matter. He had played the last four days pretty well, Hilts thought. To buy time, he’d lied to Iliana that the device only activated on Testament Day. That had- n’t stopped the arrogant woman from fiddling with it, to no avail — but the ploy had brought the relief he’d hoped for. Along with the revelers, Iliana’s rivals had entered Tahv far ahead of schedule, evidently attracted by their spies’ reports that the Sisters of Seelah had taken the palace. Now, out there in the encampments flew the banners of the Korsinites, the Golden Destiny, Force 57, and countless other factions. Seelah’s van- guard had taken station outside the palace entrance, but it wasn’t clear how long they could bar entry with their opponents’ numbers growing. With eight days remaining before Testament Day, the blood enemies had held off on violence, instead using the mass public gathering as a chance to proselytize. Nida’s Rise had become a festival of blather.

«Looking for a leader in this bunch,» Hilts said. «May the dark side help us all.»

«The conjunction,» Jaye said. Hilts was afraid he was about to hear another round about Jaye’s theory, and what today really was, when the Keshiri sighed and looked directly at him. «Caretaker, I’ll never under- stand why you never challenged to rule the Tribe. You’re wiser in the ways of the ancient Protectors than anyone.»

« Too wise,» Hilts said, amused. «These are the days of the Flagrant Fool, my friend. Knowledgeable men like us can’t get far.»

«But the Tribe teaches that every free man or woman can grow up to become Grand Lord.»

«Which is a fine thing for me to believe,» Hilts said. «But if you believe it, it isn’t as fine. And if those fools out there believe it as well,» he continued, gesturing to the crowd, «it becomes a horrible thing. Your opportunity lies in my failure.» He smirked. «And what’s this ‘Tribe teaches’? No one agrees on what the Tribe is even about anymore.» The schooling system had been just another victim of the upheaval. Under Korsin and his successors, people had worked together. But as individuals increasingly sought shortcuts to sole power, Sith society — if it could be called that — had fallen apart. Hilts clapped his hand on the young aide’s shoulder. «No, it’s too late. Like Donellan, time has passed me by.»

«I don’t agree—»

«Listen, Jaye. When a man of advancing years tells you something is true, either believe him, or nod politely,» Hilts said, stepping away from the railing. «The last thing you want to do is shake his faith in his omni- science.»

«Even if he’s wrong?»

« Especially if he’s wrong.» He turned to step back inside the palace. «And speaking of fools.»

Inside, Iliana continued to paw at the little pyramid. Only two of her companions remained, the rest having departed to guard the entrance.

«If it’s some kind of recording device,» Iliana said, «it must have a power source. Perhaps a Lignan crystal.»

«If you find out how it works,» Hilts said, «you’ll be one for the historical records yourself.» He crossed to an unthreatening position near the Sandpipes. After locking his workers in another room, Iliana had kept the caretaker and his assistant in the immediate area, ready to answer questions. Hilts wasn’t going any- where, anyway. The whole thing had become an amusing spectacle — and the players, fun to watch.

He’d found Iliana a fetching woman, if completely venal and untrustworthy. Hilts had never taken a mate, partially because of his dead-end station, but also because he knew that Sith didn’t know how to share. He’d seen it in the histories time and again: all that envy and plotting, even within families. No wonder Yaru Korsin had decreed that the consorts of expired Grand Lords needed to be put to death. Poison had no place in the bedchamber.

Not that Iliana knew it. Now, as she had once the day before, Iliana stepped toward him and looked into his eyes with sudden warmth. «Caretaker, are you sure there’s no way to see the recording now — to alter it?» Her gloved hand brushed gently against his arm.