Project Boussh: This Way To The Exit
by Durandir

MENDELLIA: RESISTANCE HEADQUARTERS

Thayer Atner couldn't sleep. They'd finally managed to shoo Kirret off
to bed. Fir was standing guard in the hangar, Fenya in the tunnel. The
others in the group were enjoying what rest they could get. Thayer had
sat his shift watching over Rekla, then Iris had come in to relieve him
and to send him off to his own rest. But his mind and heart were too
full of so many concerns--Rekla's injury, prisoners to rescue, his
uncle's plots. It was too much. Finally, dressing quickly and
holstering his weapon, he slipped through the main room and out into
the passageway that led to the tunnels.

He hadn't taken ten steps when he felt a hand laid on his shoulder.
Thayer spun around, alert to defend himself--but it was only Runt.

"What are you doing here, Runt?"

"We might ask you the same," Runt answered almost
shamefacedly. "Macavity woke us; it seemed he wanted us to follow, so we
followed him and then saw you."

"Curious cat," Thayer murmured, now for the first time noticing the
animal weaving around Runt's legs. "Well, you should probably take him
back and get him settled. Can't have him wandering about the tunnels."

"Are you coming back now?"

Thayer frowned at the other's boldness. "Actually, no. I'm going to do
a bit of scouting. Can't sleep, so I might as well make use of the
time."

"Scouting the tunnels?"

"I had thought to try the one that leads to the High Palace...I don't
know. Somehow I feel I need to go there tonight, Runt. I can't get it
off my mind."

"Thayer," Runt said gently, "it is dangerous--"

"Of course it is. But d'you think I don't know my own Palace? Better
than my uncle knows it, I'll wager, even if he does reign there for
now."

"But you are the Prince. Your nation's heir and best hope--you
shouldn't risk yourself needlessly."

Thayer could feel his face reddening, though likely enough Runt
wouldn't see that in the darkness of the hallway. "Runt," he said
slowly, drawing himself up to his full height (which was less than he
should have wished even in ordinary company, but especially so compared
to the tall alien confronting him now), "how many times do you suppose
I have heard that line?"

"We wouldn't--"

"A quarter of a century, Runt, I have lived in this world now, and for
most of that time Mendellia has been my home, and for all that time
I've been Prince. And always surrounded by those who say, you mustn't
do that, you mustn't do this, you're a Prince and we can't risk our
Prince needlessly. When I'd wish to travel; when I wished to enter the
Air Force; good Grace, nearly even if I wished to step outdoors the
Palace, Runt, always there were the naysayers who thought it too risky,
who urged me look to my own safety. But Runt, what they never
understood--what it seems far too few understand--is that I'm a Prince.
I'm not the Crown Jewels to be guarded so fearfully; I'm a man who will
someday rule this land (but for the blight of my uncle upon it, I'd be
ruling it already). It's not my own safety that I must look to, but the
safety of Mendellia herself. My concern must be ever for the land, for
the people; without them, I would be no Prince.

"And so, you see, I can't afford to shun every possible risk and danger
to myself. Someday I'll have to lead this nation; in hopes of that day,
today I must Live, that I may learn what a ruler must know. This
struggle against my uncle--I must fight these battles as an honest
soldier, so that I may someday rule Mendellia as an experienced soldier
who'll never fail to fight for her highest good. I can't run and hide
from risks. Don't you see, Runt? If I don't face them head-on now, how
will I ever face them when I come to the throne?"

Runt was silent a moment, blinking as if in surprise, then smiled and
answered, "We understand. In fact, we agree. We were only going to say
that you shouldn't go alone. Let us accompany you."

"Oh. Oh, well, in that case, I suppose you may as well. What about the
cat? Shouldn't you put him back before we go?"

But when they looked around for Macavity, they found that the cat was
already heading away from them, down the tunnel Thayer had meant to
take tonight.

"Now we'll have to catch him and send him back before we can go, I
suppose," Thayer grumbled.

"No," Runt said.

"No?"

"We think--well, you said earlier that you felt you needed to go to the
Palace."

"Yes."

"Macavity is heading that way. Look--he's stopped to look back at us.
If a cat could beckon we think he would. Don't you see it? He wants us
to follow."

"Follow the cat? To the Palace? Why on earth?"

"Trust us, Thayer. Anyway, if he leads you where you wanted to go
yourself, what difference does it make?"

"Mm. Well, all right, then, we may as well. On we go, and Macavity
leads the way..."

When the cat saw them heading its way, it turned again and continued
its steady progress through the tunnel, Runt and Thayer following as if
in a dream. Ahead was an iron gate that served as the Resistance's last
defense should enemies find them through the tunnels, and Fenya stood
guard there. Thayer saluted his Grand Marshal Tinkerer and hastily
explained that he and Runt were going out on a scouting mission. Fenya,
with his usual brevity, wished them well in a few words and opened the
gate for them. Macavity had already slipped through its bars as if no
gate stood there. Fenya locked the gate again behind them, and the two
followed the cat on through the dim tunnels toward the High Palace of
Mendellia.

MENDELLIA: THE HIGH PALACE

With a sudden, almost unexpected though long hoped for, ear-shattering
shrillness, she had it.

The high C, that note of such importance to her most puzzling guard--or
whatever he should be--Tede. She'd played through dozens of songs,
warming up; she'd played scales in all the keys, chromatic runs too
just to get her fingers back in practice. At last she'd felt ready to
try the high note again. Then she discovered the difficulty of the
fingerings: since it was such a difficult note to get out, she hardly
ever used it, and now it had turned out that she was no longer sure of
the fingering for it. So she'd tried different combinations for a
while, seeking the right one. And finally, there it was, as if she'd
known it all her life and never had the least trouble playing it. It
came out nearly perfect--dreadfully high, yes, but clear and rich and
without the least bit of cracking.

Somehow she wasn't too surprised to look up and see Tede standing at
her door, just after that perfect note. She knew he hadn't been there a
moment ago.

What was surprising was the smile. Tede the unmoved, Tede the
impassive, Tede whose face had always seemed to testify truth to the
myth of Medusa, stood there, swinging open her prison door, with as
broad a smile on his face as a child's on Christmas Day. And with the
smile, seeming more out of place than anything, dimples! Briefly she
considered that there must be terribly few people in the world aware of
the fact that Tede dimpled when he smiled.

"You haven't been standing there listening, have you?" she laughed--the
laugh was reflexive; Tede's smile had proved contagious.

"Nearby," said he. "Congratulations; that was just what we want."

"Want for what?"

"Come on." He clasped her free hand and pulled her through the door.

"Am I being moved again?"

"Hush. There's no time to explain anything. We're breaking out."

"What? We? What's this 'we'?"

"You must have the piccolo ready," he said without acknowledging her
questions, "and when I tell you, play that high C again. You must be
ready to play it in an instant every time I say. Slur up to it with
half a scale, if you need to, but get that C out as quick as possible.
Can you do that?"

"Well, I suppose so. But why?"

"No time for whys. Follow me." He had his blaster out now; they ran as
if all of Mendellia pursued them, straight down the hall where she had
been imprisoned.

And just before they reached the end, someone--something--appeared
around the corner. Becki stopped short with a gasp of fright. Tede
positioned himself in front of her.

"Now: Play!" he cried.

Regaining her wits, she played; as he'd suggested, she started easier,
on an F, and then ran up to the high C as quickly as her fingers would
move. And there was the note again, perfect as before, seeming ominous
somehow in the present context.

The thing before them had begun to bring some sort of weapon to bear.
At the sound of the high C, it stopped dead.

Now she could think again, and now she recognized it for what it was: a
droid, a battle droid of some sort. "What--?" she began in
astonishment, but could get out no more.

"Prison guard," Tede explained in haste; already he'd grabbed her hand
again to lead her on down the next hallway. "Otherwise just an ordinary
war droid. Part of Atner's deal with Thrawn. The Palace's full of
them."

"Thrawn? Imperial droids? But you're--"

"Actually, although the Empire provided them, they seem to have come
originally from this planet; I haven't been able to solve that puzzle
yet. But that's no matter now."

"What happened back there?" she gasped as they ran.

"I discovered it some time ago--all Atner's war droids have some sort
of internal restraining mechanism. I don't know if that's standard for
this model, or if Thrawn arranged it, or if Atner had the modification
done himself, but it doesn't matter. I finally figured out that it's
controlled sonically. And they're all set to the same pitch: just that
of the highest C on a piccolo."

"That's bizarre."

"Yes, but it's Atner. He has a device to control them, set to produce
that sound electronically; that's how I figured out the trigger pitch.
Anyway, when I learned from Thayer that you were a flutist--"

"Who's Thayer?"

"A friend. If the Force is with us, we'll be seeking refuge with him
before the night's out."

Force with us? She looked at Tede in surprise; not, actually, that she
had been looking at him in much of any other way since the night's
strange adventures began. "But aren't you--"

"Play!" he shouted suddenly; she looked back at the hall ahead of them
and saw that another of the guard droids had appeared. This time she
didn't bother starting on F, just played the C out quick as the breath
would flow.

And just in time. This droid had managed to get off one shot before the
piercing note stopped him as it had the first like him; by Force or
fortune, it split the air between the two escapees but came no nearer
than a threat to either of them.

They ran on, and Becki took up her question again. "What's this about
the Force? And why are you escaping with me? Aren't you an Imperial?
Atner--"

"Atner be damned," Tede shot back. "I'm afraid he's finally seen
through the charade; that's why I'm escaping with you."

"What charade?"

When he glanced back at her before answering this time, the smile was
back. "I'm from the NRI, not the Empire."

"You're kidding!" she laughed--again, that smile seemed to inspire her
to giggles.

"Infiltrated the Palace posing as an agent of Thrawn's sent to
facilitate the arrangement between him and Atner. Since then, the
General's come to use me as a sort of majordomo, practically his right-
hand man. It's been most convenient."

"I guess so."

"But now it ends. You were just in time with that high note; I don't
think--"

Suddenly their way was barred again, two droids this time. She didn't
have to be told to play this time. The piccolo's voice stopped the
mechanicals as easily as before, and they ran on, turning to descend a
stairway.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"That depends on what opposition we meet. I fear the Palace'll be
roused quick, too quick for us. We'll try the front, but if not that--
but then, one can hardly go out the back."

"I saw the cliffs--from my first prison."

"Yes. Well, we'll find a way, even if--Uh-oh."

They'd come to the end of the stairway. Another hall led to the right,
and Tede had started in that direction, but there was a problem. Just
ahead, a heavy metallic blast door started to descend from the ceiling.

Tede dashed forward to stand under it. Becki cried out, ran after him,
but--

But he simply reached up, stopped the impossible weight of it with his
bare hands.

"Go on!" he called to her. "Go through."

She obeyed, and then he followed, the door finishing its descent with a
metallic clang behind him.

"How did you--" she began.

As ever, Tede grabbed her free hand, pulling her along on this mad
flight, to explain as they ran. "I guess you may as well know, now."

"You're Superman?"

The look with which he answered that confirmed what she should have
expected: he wasn't of this galaxy, wouldn't know about Clark
Kent. "No. I'm a droid."

"What!"

"My designation is TD-S2; Tede is short for that, and serves for a
human name when I'm undercover."

"Funny," she muttered under her breath, "I used to think it was short
for 'Tedious'."

"I'm a human replica droid," he continued, not having heard her comment.

"Oh. I've heard of those," said she. "But I--it's almost too incredible
to believe! Whatever is a droid doing in the NRI?"

"Serving as I am programmed to serve," he answered simply.

"Well, still, you don't look..."

"That's the whole point of human replica droids."

"Yeah. I guess so." Now that she thought back, it began to make sense.
Tede's extraordinary lack of emotion--was that something characteristic
of droids? And his strength with the door; if he wasn't a droid he
practically would have to be Superman, or perhaps a Jedi--and then too,
she realized now that in all their running, while she'd been asking her
questions between gasps for breath, he wasn't even winded.

Well, then. Imagine that. A droid spy. Clever of Cracken, in a way.

Suddenly movement ahead caught her eye. Tede had his blaster out in a
flash, and she started to bring the piccolo up--

"Wait!" she gasped then, realizing what she'd seen. "It's not one of
the war droids."

"What?" her companion's blaster didn't waver, but he didn't shoot,
either.

Whatever she'd seen, it was orange: a rather familiar shade of orange.
Her suspicions proved correct a second later when Macavity, a flash of
ginger fur, shot down the hall and came to a halt at her feet.

"Cavver!" she cried, bending down to pet him.

"What's this?" asked Tede.

"Friend of mine," she smiled. "He--"

But as she spoke she looked up from the cat to Tede, and then she saw
who waited further down the hallway. "Oh! Runt!"

Her fellow Hermit's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Becki! How did
you get here?"

"Tede and I are escaping. How did you get here, though?"

"We followed Macavity."

She laughed for sheer joy at that. "So, Macavity, you really did bring
Runt, after all. I shouldn't be surprised, I'm sure. Good cat." She
rewarded him with a moment's scratching behind the ears.

Runt turned to call behind him, "Thayer! Come on, come see!"

"Thayer!" Tede said, the smile appearing again.

"Thayer?" asked Becki, resisting the urge to giggle again at that smile.

"Thayer," said Runt, "but of course, you've not met him yet, Becki. We
met him after you were kidnapped--he led us here, to Mendellia. Here he
is now."

She saw a young man, perhaps near her own age, a good bit shorter than
Tede, bright-eyed and eager-faced, with brown hair cut short yet still
somehow rather unruly, and a rather cavalier sort of moustache. She
knew, as Runt had said, that she'd not met him; yet there seemed
something oddly familiar about the shape of his face, and the eyes--

Runt was making introductions. "So this is the girl for whom my friends
of the New Republic came to Mendellia," said Thayer, taking her hand
and kissing it with a formal little bow that seemed, from him,
remarkably natural. "I am honored, miss; and what's more, indebted to
you, for your misfortune of being imprisoned here was what brought my
group and your Wraiths together, and they have proved invaluable allies
to me."

"Thank you," she managed to answer, bewildered at his speech. "Um,
pleased to meet you, too."

"And who, if I may ask--" Thayer began.

"You already know me, I think," Tede interrupted, "though we've not
met. Tede, also called TD-S2, at your service, Lord Prince."

"Tede!" Thayer smiled. "Our mysterious contact from the Palace. It is a
delight to meet you at last."

"And you, sir. And now I must beg refuge from you for myself and the
lady. We're presently trying to escape."

"You have it, of course. Come on, we'll go back through the tunnels."

"Tunnels?" Tede asked.

"Oh--you didn't know of them? There are tunnels all over this island,
and as it happens, one of them connects this Palace to that refuge
you're seeking. We'll be safe--"

"Wait!" Becki interrupted. "Shouldn't we take Quiara with us, too?"

Runt smiled thoughtfully. "If we could--that would make an end of our
mission, as easily as that."

"Not so easy," said Tede. "We can't take the other prisoner."

"Why not?" asked Becki.

"We'd have to find her first, and we don't have time. That door that
slammed shut on us--the Palace is likely on alert already. We have to
move. In fact, we should be moving now. Thayer, show us to this tunnel
of yours."

Thayer nodded and started off in the direction he and Runt had come;
but even as they hurried after him, Becki resumed her questioning. "But
don't you know where she is?"

"I did," said Tede, "until today. You know they moved her from the room
you'd shared briefly."

"Yes, when you were--well, interrogating me, though I guess now I can
hardly call it that."

"Yes. But Atner hasn't spoken a word of it to me. Ordinarily, the
orders would have been sent through me; I'd probably even have done the
transfer myself. This time, she's just gone from under my nose, and
I've no idea where she is now."

"Then no one knows but Atner?" her face fell.

"Likely. And that's why I suspect the General's lost faith in me--why I
had to escape tonight. You I could get out, but as for the other..."

"It's all right," said Runt as they came to a stop in the middle of a
hallway. "It would have been good if we could accomplish the rescue
tonight, but if we are delayed we should not be delayed long. The rest
of our team should be here soon, and then we can stage a full rescue
effort."

Thayer did something to the side wall, and suddenly a door was where
there had not been one before. Through this they passed, and found
themselves in the tunnel. Making sure all were accounted for--not
forgetting the orange cat--Thayer closed the secret door again, and the
group hurried, breathing easy for the first time that night, into the
labyrinth of tunnels that would lead at last to safety.