way.
“
Good.
”
Struck speechless, Bail Organa stared at the man he’d called his friend for nearly fifteen years.
I must be hearing things. He cannot have said what I think he just said. Because Tryn Netzl might be the walking, talking embodiment of an absentminded professor, but he’s not an idiot
.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last. “You’ve done
what?
”
Swathed throat to mid-thigh in his stained and patched lucky blue lab coat, his pale hair pulled back from his predatory face in a braid, Tryn didn’t look up from carefully tipping a small capful of dark blue crystals into a glass beaker.
“Hmm? Oh. I’ve successfully created a sample of the bioweapon.” He nodded at the lab’s glass-fronted safe hutch, a stone’s throw distant at the other end of his bench. “It’s in there.”
And indeed, through the hutch’s security-shielded transparisteel door Bail could see a lidded container three-quarters full of some greenish, noxious-looking substance. Before he could stop himself he’d taken an alarmed sideways step.
“
Tryn—
”
Surprised, Tryn finally looked at him. “What?”
Am I slipping? Did I not make myself clear?
“You
created
the filthy stuff? I thought you were supposed to be finding a way to
kill
it!”
Tryn shrugged. “Can’t kill what I don’t have, Bail.”
Funny. He’d forgotten how pragmatically indifferent his friend could be.
He’s a scientist, remember? He worships at the altar of objectivity
. “I know that, but—”
“But what? Bail…” Tryn put down the glass beaker. “Look. How’s this for an idea? I’ll refrain from telling you how to get legislation passed in the Senate and you can hold off telling me how to be a biochemist. Sound fair?”
Nothing about this current crisis was
fair
. Prickling with unease, Bail started to pace around the impressive Jedi Temple laboratory Yoda had offered to his friend for as long as it was needed.
“Shelve the flippancy, Doctor Netzl,” he snapped. “I’m not in the mood. I’ve just spent half a day cooped up with the most self-interested, self-righteous, self
-everythinged
senators it has ever been my misfortune to know. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and if I have to hear
one more piece
of bad news I’m going to—”
“This isn’t bad news, Bail,” said Tryn, watching him closely. “It’s good news. The toxin’s formula is proven. I’ve got a solid place to start from now.”
“Proven?” Halting on the far side of the lab, Bail felt his belly turn over in a queasy roll. “You mean you’ve tested it? Here?”
What was he thinking?
“Tryn, we already know the filthy stuff works!”
“No, we were
told
it works. Now we have firsthand proof. There’s a difference.”
“You
tested
it.” Pacing again, he fought the furious urge to smash something. “Tryn, this is the
Jedi Temple
. Up there—” He jabbed a pointed finger at the ceiling. “—is the Jedi Council. You
cannot
endanger them by—”
“Hey!” Now it was Tryn’s turn to snap with temper. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do in my own lab. This place is the best facility I’ve ever worked in. Trust me, I’m the only sentient at risk.”
Which was simply one more reason for him to feel sick. “I don’t care how secure this lab is, what you’re doing is too dangerous.”
Tryn stared at him. “That’s not your call.”
“Excuse me, but I think it is. As head of the Republic’s Security Committee I—”
“Bail, all due respect, but you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tryn said. “I did what I had to do, with Master Yoda’s full knowledge and approval. And now that I know this bioweapon inside out I can get to work on creating an antidote. Something broad enough to cross the species barrier and bind up the active toxins while they’re still in a victim’s bloodstream.”
That brought Bail up short. “You mean that?” he said, his heart pounding his ribs. “You can really do
Justine Dare Justine Davis