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It didn't seem like that would be much longer, from what the identifier node had just told Kud'ar Mub'at.
Ignoring the jabbering of the nodes surrounding itself, the assembler adjusted its soft, globular abdomen into a more comfortable position in the self-generated nest; when it was done making adjustments, it contemplated the news with a calmer, more tranquil attitude. No sense getting agitated, it admonished itself, over something I knew was going to happen. Empires might rise and fall-they had before-and the galaxy might even collapse upon itself in one dark ball of relentless gravity. But until then, Kud'ar Mub'at, or some creature very much like it, would still be trading in the folly of other sentient creatures. That was its nature, just as it was the nature of those less wise to find themselves enmeshed in the traps spun for them... .
"Sometimes," mused Kud'ar Mub'at aloud, "they don't even know until it's too late. And sometimes they never know."
"Know what?" Balancesheet, a little calmer after its initial burst of enthusiasm, dangled itself close to the spiky mandibles of its parent's face. "What do you mean?"
That kind of curiosity on a subassembler's part indicated the degree of independence that Kud'ar Mub'at had let develop in the node. There hadn't even been a mention of numbers, and still this tethered offspring wanted to know. A sharp paternal feeling twinged inside Kud'ar Mub'at; it would be a shame, however necessary, to pluck the node's legs one by one and crack its shell to extract the recyclable proteins and cellular matter inside.
Kud'ar Mub'at reached out one thin black leg and stroked the ridges of Balancesheet's small head.
"Creatures are dying," said Kud'ar Mub'at, "even as we speak." That had been the gist of the message transmitted through the web by the listener and identifier team of nodes. With the transport engines that had been salvaged decades ago and incorporated into the web's external structure, Kud'ar Mub'at had slowly brought its drifting home-and-body within communication range of the Bounty Hunters Guild. It had wanted to be close to where the action was happening, the pulling shut of the snare he had woven, with no delay in getting word sent out by an encrypted tight-beam signal from his contacts in the Guild compound. "Of course," it said, "there will be other deaths after these; that's all part of the plan."
One snare led to another, a universe of entangling strands, as though the contents of Kud'ar Mub'at's web had been turned inside out and transmogrified into something big enough to loop whole planets into its grasp. It spoke matter-of-factly, without sympathy or remorse. "Even the ones who think they're on my side, who believe they are still free-they'll find out the truth soon enough. No one escapes forever."
Balancesheet folded a couple of its own legs across its smaller abdomen. "Not even Boba Fett?"
That question surprised Kud'ar Mub'at. Not that the answer wasn't known to it, but that the question had come from a source such as one of his subassembler nodes. Even from a developed one such as Balancesheet; that indicated a level of strategic thinking that Kud'ar Mub'at hadn't expected.
"Not even Boba Fett," answered Kud'ar Mub'at slowly.
It kept a set of eyes on the accountant node, dangling from the intricately woven ceiling of the throne space.
It watched for any expression in the narrow-angled face, so much like a miniature version of its own. "How could he? Escape, that is. For him to do so, he would have to be wiser than I am." Kud'ar Mub'at peered closer at Balancesheet. "Do you really believe that such a thing is possible?"
The eyes studding Balancesheet's face were like sets of black pearls, darkly shining but revealing no depths beyond their surfaces. "Of course not," said the subassembler. A chorus of other nodes, bobbing or scurrying around the space like the embodiments of Kud'ar Mub'at's own thoughts, echoed the sentiment. "No one is even as wise as you are. Not even Emperor Palpatine."
"True," said Kud'ar Mub'at. Though the assembler had to admit that Palpatine operated on a grander scale. But that's just megalomania, brooded Kud'ar Mub'at. For Palpatine to think that he could control the entire galaxy, to lay his cold hand upon the neck of every sentient creature on all the worlds ... even those who didn't have necks, properly speaking ... that was madness, sheer madness. And worse, in Kud'ar Mub'at's estimation it was folly. To become absorbed in the big picture, the sweep of history on a cosmic scale, and overlook the little details, was to risk the complete and utter ruination of one's plans. There were things going on underneath Emperor Palpatine's nose that he knew nothing of; not just the hidden errands of the Rebellion and its sympathizers, but co
Gloom permeated the meditations of Kud'ar Mub'at as the assembler reminded himself of just how much still lay beyond the strands of his web. Just as well, it philosophically decided, that all those things are Palpatine's concerns and not mine. True wisdom rested in knowing one's limitations.
"Exactly so," chimed in Balancesheet. It had picked up its parent's thought over the spun-silk neural network that both co
For a moment Kud'ar Mub'at was a
"Have to what?" At the end of Kud'ar Mub'at's leg, the accountant node peered back at its progenitor.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it." Kud'ar Mub'at was sure that the little node hadn't picked up on that particular thought, the one that had to do with its inevitable-and imminent-death. "Let me do th e deep thinking."
"Of course," said Balancesheet. "I would not have it otherwise. The only reason I asked about Boba Fett ..."
"Yes?"
"I only asked," continued the subassembler node,
"because we would have to anticipate the cost of his services to us rising as one of the results of the Bounty Hunters Guild being catastrophically disbanded. Since there would be a considerable diminishment in the number and quality of the competition for such operations. That should be factored into our calculations, regarding any further negotiations involving this individual. Unless of course"-Balancesheet spoke archly-"we were to make other arrangements about Boba Fett's future. ..."
That was a good point; Kud'ar Mub'at realized he should have thought of it himself. Though it was also one of the advantages of having a well-developed, semi- independent node like Balancesheet around. Whatever slipped by Kud'ar Mub'at's attention would be caught by the subassembler's.
"Thank you," said Kud'ar Mub'at to the little creature still tethered to it. "I'll give it some thought."
"Actually," said Balancesheet, "I have suggestions along those lines."
Deep in the heart of the web Kud'ar Mub'at had spun for itself, floating in the cold vacuum between the stars, the assembler listened. Just as though it were listening to its own wise and precise calculations, whispered into its ear from something outside; something almost separate.