What was important was that they had the same view of the future, of where the diseased, tottering Republic was going. With the Senator's political acumen and alliances and the Commerce Guild's financial and commercial resources, there was nothing they could not accomplish. But not quite yet. The Republic was still powerful, its long-established institutions not quite weak enough to be ignored.

In matters of political policy she tended to defer to the Senator, though not always. Shu Mai respected her associate's opinions, just as Mousul believed the president of the Commerce Guild listened attentively to his advice. What the Senator sometimes failed to acknowledge was that he was by several orders of magnitude the junior partner in their mutual arrangement. Adept as he was at massaging the egos of fellow politicians, Mousul was content to let Shu Mai deal with the unseen one whose interests they represented.

The watercraft on which they were presently relaxing drifted freely on Sawam Lake, an exquisite body of water that, like everything else on Coruscant, was artificial in nature. It was a private playground of the very rich, lined with trees and genetically engineered flowers that bloomed year-round, filling the air with a hundred different scents. Other boats cruised sedately nearby, some larger than Shu Mai's, some smaller. She could have overawed them all, but preferred not to be conspicuous. The two were the only ones on the boat. Live servants had ears with which to listen. The pilot droids did not.

"Our supporters grow impatient." Mousul let the sun bake

his chest, its rays carefully filtered through the inconspicuous polarized shield that hovered above the boat. "Tarn Uliss in particular worries me. He would not be as easy to deal with as was the unfortunate Nemrileo."

"Impatience is a potentially fatal disease." Rolling to her left, Shu Mai picked up the spiral tumbler of refreshment and sipped contentedly at its contents. "According to everything you tell me, events on Ansion are unfolding at a predictable and reasonable speed. The others must learn to contain their impulsiveness."

"It isn't easy, you know, to restrain people caught up in the grip of a new idea."

Raising her tumbler, Shu Mai gazed through the liquid-filled transparency. It colored the sunlight gold. "That's your job, my friend. I handle the guild, you keep the local political and business interests in check. We'll move only when the time is right."

Mousul bridled inwardly at what sounded like a directive. Outwardly, he smiled and nodded. For now, Shu Mai was in con trol. Let her dream her dreams of personal grandiosity. When Ansion seceded and Mousul was appointed sector governor, their positions would be reversed. Then it was Shu Mai and her guild that would come calling in search of favors. He met his smaller colleague's gaze evenly.

"These Jedi complicate matters. Whatever Uliss and the oth ers think, no legitimate vote can go forward until they have been dealt with. I have been in regular contact with our agent there, and I've been assured as recently as yesterday that the visitors will be neutralized."

"They'd better be." With a soft grunt, Shu Mai leaned back in her chair. "If only the Jedi Knights could be brought around to our way of thinking. It would simplify everything greatly."

"Won't happen." Mousul stirred his drink with a finger,

activating a few more of the time-release narcotics swirling within. "The Jedi can't be bent."

The president of the Commerce Guild shrugged. "It may be that some are not so staunch as you believe."

Mousul blinked at his co-conspirator. "What do you mean?"

"Time will reveal all. Meanwhile, events on Ansion will un fold at their own speed. While they do, you and I must wait, and persuade the others to do likewise." She took a long swallow of her own, non-narcotic-infused drink.

Mousul grunted and went silent. Businessfolk like that brusque Tarn Uliss simply did not understand. While it was true that life was transitory and the window of opportunity to do great things fleeting, they could not be rushed. To move too soon would be to risk everything. If Uliss and the rest would only be patient, the future would be handed to them.

Beneath the two, who rested and plotted and warmed them selves in Coruscant's beneficent sun, thousands of lesser beings toiled in the great interlocked buildings two hundred stories high whose roof was the lake known as Savvam.

If not for the small matter of their mission, the travelers would have chosen to spend another day and night at the tran quil, bucolic campsite. Sadly, as always, time insisted and duty called.

Following the route proposed by the Yiwa brought them to a line of high hills that stretched unbroken across the northern horizon. Kyakhta and Bulgan did not know their names, but a few of the prominences were almost high enough to be called mountains. Gentle of slope, with only a few isolated cliff faces but many water-worn undercuts and overhangs, they presented no barrier to the wonderfully long- legged suubatars. Still, to save time and preserve the strength of their mounts, the travelers chose to continue forward through one of several meandering gaps that cut through the range. None of these was particularly steep- sided, being more gully than gorge. Erosion, Luminara re flected, had long since worn down these old mountains.

Riding alongside Kyakhta, she noticed that the guide's atten tion was unusually fixed. "You see something that troubles you, Kyakhta?"

"No, Master Luminara. But the Alwari dislike this kind of country. We prefer flat lands, grassy plains, and open spaces. Being born to the wide prairies, we are uncomfortable in enclosed places." He indicated the gentle, grass-covered slope on his left. "My mind tells me there are few places up there in which to hide, my eyes tell me there are no dangers to be seen, but my heart is full of concerns hammered into me from childhood, when my mane was but a line of immature fuzz running down my back. Old suspicions die hard."

Scanning the same hillside, she tried to cheer the guide. "If it means anything, I don't see any likely source of trouble, either."

Which was because it could not be seen. Only felt.

Sweeping down through the undulating hills, the ever-present wind of Ansion was strengthened by the natural funnel-ing effect of narrowing canyons and clefts. Wind speed did not reach gale force, but it grew strong enough to induce the travelers to cover their mouths and nostrils with protective cloth.

Bulgan suddenly sat up straight in his saddle. Or at least, as straight as his bent back would permit. No question that he saw something, Obi-Wan noted. The Jedi did not have a chance to ask what it was.

"Chawix!" Bulgan exclaimed. Reining in his suubatar, he began looking around wildly. Hearing his friend's warning cry,

Kyakhta turned his suubatar quickly toward the nearest of the overhangs they had passed.