Part 6

  The next day Carlo went hunting again. He returned from the mountains at about midday. This time he’d secured the fathier further down the trail and walked the final leg of the trail to the base of the cliffs. After he’d found and shot another sheep, it was a simple matter to return for the fathier.

  The lightsaber again came in handy in the construction of a new travois. The one he’d used previously would have been too short to be trailed behind the tall beast.

  The residents of the apartments were all inside to avoid the heat of the day.

  Carlo went to Lucy’s corner apartment and called to her at the door. As expected,She was not there. She was still at the mercantile.

  Carlo took the mountain sheep, it was bigger than the last one, to the back of the apartment. He had cleaned the animal after taking it but finished dressing it here. When he was done removing the animal’s skin he stretched it on a rack. The cleaning and tanning of the hide took the rest of the afternoon.

  The day was getting late when VP16 rounded the corner. “Master Carlo, do you require any assistance?”

  Carlo nodded. “This meat can be given to the residents.” He cut a piece from the carcass. “I’ll give this to Lucy.”

  “Of course. They will be grateful for the food.”

  Carlo went back around to the front of the apartment. He called again at the door. Still no Lucy. This time he went inside.

  Carlo was confident Lucy would be home soon. He took the meat to the tiny kitchen and took a few moments to prepare it, finally placing it in the oven to roast. It would have been better over an open fire but Carlo understood Lucy and the others not wanting a large cooking fire in the center yard.

  He cleaned the utensils and then sat at the table with a cup of cool water.

  He felt satisfied with his hunt that day. He’d managed to provide another day's worth of food for the small, elderly community. At least they’d have food they would not have paid for out of their meager resources.

  It was quiet and Carlo’s eyes fell on his cup he’d set on the table. As before the sound fell away from the world and he felt as able to find the connection. It was a little easier than last time. He was starting to truly enjoy the familiar comfort it brought.

  He was surprised this time as the connection seemed to emanate from the cup. It was made of metal and was dented in a spot near the handle. He could even sense the water inside. Previously he’d connected with the living, the beetle for sure. However, as he’d spent some time thinking, Carlo felt it possible he’d connected to the first mountain sheep. How else had been able to know they were there with his eyes shut?

  This time it was an inanimate object.

  Carlo concentrated on the cup, focusing and wrapping his thoughts and mind around it to the exclusion of all else, even the feeble light from the overhead lamp dimmed in his consciousness.

  Carlo lifted his chin and as he did the cup rose from the table, not of its own accord, but as a response to his will.

  The Force had responded to him.

  The realization caused his mind to swim with the implications and his concentration on the cup wavered. It clattered to the table spilling the contents.

  Carlo exhaled. He had been holding his breath. He picked up a cloth and wiped up the water.

  His thoughts were scattered. The Force connected both living and nonliving? What did it mean?

  *****

  It had been a couple of days since Carlo had returned from the hunting trip. He had tried to lose himself and his thoughts in mundane charges that needed to be done around the apartments.

  The incident with the cup and its similarity to his other brushes with the Force weighed on his consciousness.

  That evening he resolved to speak with Lucy about the experience.

  During their evening meal, as they sat consuming their repast he broached the subject.

  “Lucy, I need to know about the Force.”

  Lucy was taken aback for a moment. “I’m not sure I’m the best, well, I’m not sure I can help with that.”

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  “Please. At least tell me what you do know.” Carlo pleaded. “I think the Force wants me to know.”

  Lucy frowned. Then she stood. She went to the corner of the bed, pulling back the blanket, she revealed a defect in the mattress. Reaching inside she grasped and then removed a parcel wrapped in brown cloth. Apparently the old prospector was not the only one who kept belongings hidden that way.

  Retiring to the table she set the parcel in front of Carlo.

  Taking her seat she motioned to the package. “Open it. It belonged to my grandmother.”

  Carlo carefully removed the cloth wrapping revealing a book. The tome was clearly ancient. The lettering on the cover was faded and yellowed, having once certainly been bright white. The binding was cracked and the lower corner of the front cover was torn away.

  Carlo didn’t recognize the letters in the cover. He opened to the first page and the lettering there was equally unfamiliar. He gave Lucy an inquisitive look.

  “Don’t ask me. I can’t read it. My grandmother said that her mother used to read to her from it but she never learned its language. All she could say was that it told of the Force and contained some tales of the Jedi.” Lucy closed her eyes solemnly. “She told me a couple of them but it’s been so long I don’t really remember. I was a little girl at the time. I found the book in my mother’s room after she died.”

  Carlo leafed through a few pages, careful not to damage the old text. “Maybe we can find someone who can read it.”

  Lucy chuckled. “It might be just as easy to find an actual Jedi.”

  Carlo laughed along with her.

  There came a tap at the door and VP16 let himself in. “My apologies for the interruption. Do you require anything before l close down for the evening ?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, thank you,VP.”

  The droid approached the table and picked up the used plates and flatware.

  Carlo closed the book and gently passed his fingertips over the lettering on the cover. “Unless you read ancient languages?”

  The droid turned his head and then looked down at the cover of the tome. “Of course. The title is ‘Treatise on the Living Force’.”

  Lucy was shocked, “You can read this?”

  “Yes. It is an older dialect but I have been programmed with over six hundred thousand languages.” VP said matter of factly.

  Carlo pushed the book in front of the droid and grabbed the plates from the droid’s grasp. “You read, I’ll wash.”

  VP picked up the book and began turning the pages silently.”

  “What are you doing?” Lucy asked.

  VP kept turning the pages, “Reading.”

  Lucy furrowed her brow. “You’re supposed to be reading it to us.”

  VP paused.

  Carlo set the plates in the sink. “Let him read the whole thing and then he can answer my questions.”

  “Makes sense,” Lucy said. “Keep going, VP.”

  VP was done with the book by the time the dinner dishes were cleaned, but something wasn’t right. When he closed the back cover of the old time he stopped moving altogether.

  “VP?” Lucy asked. “What’s wrong?”

  No response.

  Carlo tapped his shoulder and then rapped his knuckles on the droid's forehead.

  Nothing.

  Lucy moved around to the droid's back and pressed his activation switch.

  Again nothing.

  “Maybe he’s low on power. He was about to close down for the night.” Lucy said. “Let’s take him out to the shed and plug him in.”

  Carlo and Lucy carried the droid out to the opposite corner from her apartment. There was a small room there where spare equipment was stored. It had also been outfitted with the droid's charger. They stood him up near the wall and Lucy plugged the droid into the charger.

  “Let’s go,” Lucy said. “We can check on him in the morning.”

  *****

  Lucy had gone to the mercantile for the day and Carlo went out to the garden.

  He watered the plants and pulled some weeds. There were a couple of ripe peppers that he harvested and put in his pocket.

  Carlo sat on the ground and closed his eyes. He concentrated, trying to reach the Force connection. Nothing. It was as if the previous success was accidental.

  Then a voice split the silence and his poor attempt at concentration. It was VP16. “Meditation is as much a matter of practice as it is will.”

  Carlo spun to face the droid. “What?”

  “Meditation. It’s not enough to want to be able to do it. You need to practice.” The droid responded. “At least, that’s what the ancient Jedi believed.”

  Carlo jumped to his feet. “Is that from the book?”

  “Why yes. At least I believe so.” VP said.

  “You believe? You’re a machine. Don’t you know where your information comes from?”

  “Normally yes. But the data from the book has become integrated into my core programming.” VP stated.

  “But you still know what’s in the book?” Carlo asked.

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  Carlo glared at the droid. “Is that a joke?”

  “Hmmm,” the droid responded. “I’m not sure.”

  *****

  On the other side of Utopia the Colonel sat at his table.

  His servant placed a tiny glass of an amber colored drink in front of him. “May I get anything else?”

  The colonel shook his head. “No. That will be all.” He looked up. “Close the door on your way out. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  The man gave a short bow and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  The Colonel rested his forearms on the table with the glass between his hands.

  Earlier that day he’d felt a familiar twinge in the back of his mind, the mere shadow of a thought. For some reason it had brought to mind a glass. Or maybe thirst? It had bothered him to the point of restlessness and he had returned home early from the mine.

  Now he shut out everything and concentrated on the feeling, focusing on easing his unsettled thoughts. His mind wrapped around the glass and it rose from the table.

  The Colonel stared intently into the liquid and, as he did, a shadow took shape. It was the form of a man. It was not someone he knew, it was a stranger. He tried to focus on the background, maybe he could tell where the stranger was. Perhaps that would give a clue to his identity.

  Suddenly the door sprang open. “Hey, Boss!”

  The Colonel’s concentration was shattered and his anger flared in an instant. The glass, enclosed as it was in his thoughts and will, took the brunt of the flare. The glass imploded and the shards rained down on the table.

  The Colonel shot a scathing glare at the man who’d intruded into his meditation. It was Glade, one of his employees, a feeble minded fool to be sure, but he did have his uses. “What?” the Colonel snarled.

  Now realizing his mistake —and possibly the precarious nature of his situation— Glade recoiled. “Sorry, Boss.” He turned to leave.

  The Colonel snorted as he ripped a handkerchief from his pocket. “What do you want?”