Chapter Six

Thama Bercha hadn't been lying… Daj Orti really was a friend to what seemed like every child on Malkiri. Aside from the three girls he'd spoken to and the boy whose speeder bike was being repaired, Anakin guessed that there were at least fifteen kids over for long stays, and others occasionally flew by and shouted greetings. Daj asked after merchandise he'd apparently sold them, and if any problems were reported, he called out, "Bring it to my shop! I'll fix that, no charge!"

Watto would have keeled over dead if he'd seen all the free service Daj Orti gave out. And Daj did it himself, rather than assigning it to a nine-year-old slave.

It occurred to Anakin that he might ask Daj for a job--it would be good to have a little income--but he decided to ask Obi-Wan first. It might not be normal. And it might not be allowed.

"You're very good on that scoot, Kit," Daj said, coming over and perching himself on a low wall. The long Neimoidian robes seemed unsuited to the casual pose. "Is it better than the last model?"

"Hmmm?" Anakin swooped back and forth. "I don't know. I mean, it's pretty good."

"That's a new model. You didn't have an older one?"

Oops.

"Well, I… "

"Because if that was the first time you've flown… "

That struck Anakin as genuinely funny, and he laughed. "No, it's not the first time I've flown. It's a good model," he said. "Nice response. I had to adjust a servomotor, though."

"Yes, that's shipping damage. I have spoken with the company, but they claim it is unavoidable. I unpack the scoots when they come and make the adjustment before I put them out."

Anakin wanted to start talking about the scoot, and Daj's shop, and engines and thrusters, but he stopped himself. The servomotor he could pass off as being well-educated about a hobby, but if he wandered off on a tangent and started talking about taking machines apart or building new components from junk…

Well, that would bring up questions about how a nice, well-bred boy from Coruscant happened to have spent his childhood.

"So, you are enjoying Malkiri?" Daj asked.

"I only just got here. Smells good, though."

Daj took a deep sniff of the air. "You're right. I hadn't noticed. It does smell pleasant." His head turned, and he suddenly stood up from the wall. "Hey, boys!"

Anakin followed his gaze. Several of the boys were playing something rough over near the tree line. Many had picked up branches, and a smaller boy was crouched in the middle of the group. Anakin couldn't tell whether or not they were playing the same game that he'd seen at the school.

"What are you doing? I told you, no rough stuff here."

One of the human boys turned and gave him a good-natured smile. "Oh, we're not hurting him."

"Yeah," the little one who'd been the focus of the rough play called. "I'm okay."

"I don't want your parents saying you can't visit. Or shop."

"They don't mind."

"You're sure?"

"Sure. Hey, who's the new guy?"

"This is Kit." He shoved Anakin forward playfully. "You'll like him."

Anakin hadn't decided how to approach them yet, but he knew he wasn't here to talk to Daj and listen to the girls giggle. He was supposed to be getting on the inside.

He started to do an elaborate routine on the scoot, then changed his mind. If he wanted them to talk to him as freely as he talked to Kitster, he couldn't afford to get into competitions with them. So he just looped a little, and finally kicked off the scoot and tucked it into a pocket he'd discovered in the jacket that was made for the purpose. "Hey," he said.

The smallest boy waved. The others just looked at him frankly. The one who'd spoken to Daj appeared to be the leader, or anyway, the one the others all looked at for a cue. Anakin observed their poses and adopted a similar one, with an uncomfortable smile on his face. The temptation to start talking was strong, but he managed to check it.

The head boy came over. He was dressed much as Anakin was, though the silks weren't as bright. "I'm Tomik Cral. Can I see that thing? That's the new one, right?"

Anakin pulled the scoot out of his jacket and handed it over, willing himself not to fight against it. Kitster always handed him whatever he asked for. He hoped that it hadn't felt quite this bad, and guessed that Kitster wouldn't have gone along with it so often if it had.

Tomik put himself on the scoot, flew for a few meters (to Anakin's relief, he wasn't a clumsy oaf likely to break it--he did seem to know what he was doing), then hopped off. "Great. They fixed that problem with the balance." He examined it. "Thanks, man. I gotta get one. Hey, Daj, when are you getting these?"

"Soon!"

"You've been saying that for three months!"

"Is shipping slow out here?" Anakin asked.

"Where are you used to?"

"Coruscant."

The group got quiet. "Really?" the smallest one asked. "You're actually from Coruscant?"

"Sure."

"That's gotta be really rugged, with all the--"

"Aw, shut up, Brinje."

"No, it's okay," Anakin said. "Really, Brinje, you can ask me anything you want."

Tomik glared at him.

Damn. Challenged him. Didn't mean to do that.

Brinje glanced around among the bigger boys, seemed to draw a conclusion, and backed away. "I, um, ought to get home." He backed a few more steps then turned and ran into the woods.

Tomik rolled his eyes, and handed the scoot back to Anakin. "What a little Force-fart," he muttered after Brinje.

Anakin had no idea what to say to that, which, he reflected, was probably just as well if he was going to stay in his persona.

Tomik shrugged. "Anyway, yeah, if you're used to being on Coruscant, it takes awhile for stuff to get here. But mostly it's not bad."

"At least you don't have to worry about the Temple eunuchs," a Neimoidian boy snorted. "Is it true they grab kids off the street in Coruscant and brainwash them?"

What? And actually get involved with a kid who needs them without a prophecy to tip the scales?

"No," Anakin said, then remembered that he was supposed to be getting information about this. "Well, I never heard of it, anyway. Where'd you hear that?"

"Everyone knows it," Tomik said, surprised. "That's how they get new people. They just steal them."

"Yeah!" An enthusiastic female voice joined in, and Anakin saw Sephi on the edges of the group. "I heard they take babies, right away from their mothers."

"And never let them come home!" Lyclar said behind her.

Their voices stabbed Anakin through the chest, cutting off his breath in a harsh and painful gasp. Mom's face rose up in his mind, and the stern faces of the Council. No, Anakin, you may not return to Tatooine. No, Anakin, you may not write. No. No. No…

"You okay, man?" Tomik asked. He looked honestly concerned.

Stop it. You can't do this, you can't feel this, not right now. You're not Anakin Skywalker. You're Kit Tachi, and your guardians are only a handful of meters away. He covered the gasp with a cough and said, "Sorry. Breathed wrong." He pulled Kit Tachi around him like a long cloak, and the pain dulled. His breath came more easily. "I thought Sha-- Well, that one who killed the king and stuff… I thought he was here visiting his parents."

"Yeah, but he was a grown-up, and it was the first time he ever came back… "

They went on talking about the case, and Anakin absorbed what he could, falling into Kit's quiet mode of listening. That was the secret, then… just sit back, and let the persona do the work.

As far as he could tell, the idea they had about Shapoi (the fact that it was formless and illogical seemed not to bother them) was that he had been wandering around looking for someplace to maneuver into a position of power, and he had stumbled across his dissident parents and decided to take up their cause, so that he could control Malkiri. He didn't really care about Malkiri, of course, or about his parents--it was agreed that such things were trained out of Jedi at a young age--but they didn't care about Malkiri either, or about their son, or they wouldn't have let him go with the Jedi in the first place

(not true, never true)

and besides, maybe they'd planned it all along.

Half of their beliefs contradicted the other half, and Anakin still had no idea why they had started believing them, but apparently, once they'd accepted the idea that the Jedi were capable of anything, such minor problems were easily surmountable.

Sometime while they were talking, the sun went down. Daj came over to shoo them home--"Before your parents start thinking I stole you"--and they left in a clump. Anakin found a place three or four people behind Tomik. They went around Daj's house and up the hill along a moving walkway. The girls went on across the street where Anakin lived, and two boys turned left while Anakin and the others turned right. By the time they reached the house Siri had rented, they'd lost another, but there was still a group of seven or eight. Anakin turned up toward his door.

"So, we'll see you in school tomorrow, Kit?" Tomik called after him.

"Sure," Anakin said blandly. He went inside.

Obi-Wan was sitting in the parlor, watching him with a smile. "Looks like you made a few friends already," he said. "You're much better at this than I am."

Anakin nodded. "Sure. Thanks. I have to get cleaned up before we meditate. We're meditating, right?"

Obi-Wan had stood up, and the smile had faded. "Anakin, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just want to get cleaned up."

Anakin didn't look at him as he went up the stairs. Of course he was all right. He'd just been talking to people and playing his part.

He grabbed his plain pajamas, then went to the 'fresher to peel Kit off for the evening.

Obi-Wan watched Anakin go up the stairs, not certain why he was worried. Oh, true, it was odd that Anakin asked to meditate--Anakin avoided meditation whenever he was allowed to get away with it--but that was just something on the surface.

He was distant.

That was essence of the problem. Anakin's presence in the Force was usually vibrant to the point of being distracting to any sensitive in the vicinity, but tonight, that presence was muted, coming through with the distorted quality of sound traveling under deep water.

"Obi-Wan?"

Concentrating on his padawan, he hadn't noticed Siri's approach. She was frowning. "I sense some worry."

"Anakin was acting oddly when he came in."

"Mmm."

"I will take that to mean you have a theory?"

She shrugged, then sat down on the deep window seat that looked out over the front lawn. She pasted a smile on her face (the neighbors could see her there), and said, "Did he look like he'd been in a fight?"

"No."

"Do you suppose the children think differently from Thama Bercha, or that they are more tactful about it?"

"Highly unlikely."

She stretched and tossed her hair flirtatiously. "And you know Anakin. How deep did he have to make his cover to avoid responding to it as Anakin--by taking a swing at someone?"

"That's not fair, Siri. Anakin resorts to fighting sooner than I would like but--"

"And when he does not resort to fighting, he has fought a hard battle with himself and won. And he fights that battle because he wants to please you." She turned off the light, and her face took on its normal, settled look. "To not defend the Jedi in general and you in particular, if the children were being cruel, must have taken a real effort for him."

"I'm glad to be in the company of such an expert on my padawan."

"It's a guess. Do you think it's wrong?"

"I don't know."

"I guessed it because it's how I felt when I began my assignment with Krayn. The temptation to get out my lightsaber and cut his miserable head off was hard to fight. And I was considerably older than Anakin, and somewhat more levelheaded."

Obi-Wan thought the second was debatable, but he didn't want to spend time having an argument with Siri. He turned away from her. "Well, I thank you for your insight, Siri."

"I will take that to mean that you have a theory of your own?"

"No. No theories." He glanced over his shoulder at her. Standing in the shadows of the alcove, he could clearly see only the bluish white glow of the stars reflecting in her hair, looking like an aura. Something about it gave him a chill. "I'll check on him, Siri. And I do thank you for sharing your experience. I didn't intend that to come out… sharply."

"Yes, you did." She turned and sat down again without turning on the light, and looked quietly out over the neighborhood.

Obi-Wan left her there and went upstairs to check on Anakin.

The boy was already in his room, but the door was open, and Obi-Wan went inside. Anakin was sitting on his own window seat in an unknowing mimicry, but unlike Siri, he smiled when Obi-Wan came in. He'd obviously been trying to meditate on his own, but hadn't gotten very far. His presence was as it had always been, as though someone had pulled it up from a swamp and dried it off. He had tied back his hair and unfolded his padawan braid to its full length (it was on the room side, but Obi-Wan turned down the window light anyway, to avoid any chance of its being seen).

Obi-Wan sat down across from him, on the other end of the window seat. "You really should keep the braid hidden, Anakin, even in our home."

"I know. I'll put it back. It's pretty simple."

"And meditating in a window is possibly not our best approach."

He looked pained. "I didn't think about that. It's just so quiet and pretty. And these guys wouldn't know meditating if they tripped over it." He took a quick, guilty glance out the window, and folded his braid up to tuck into the ponytail. "No one's out back. It's just Daj's back there, and I don't see anyone left outside."

There was no point in belaboring the issue; Anakin understood what was wrong. "You seemed upset when you came home."

"I'm okay."

"What was troubling you? Siri thought perhaps you were having difficulty with some of the sentiments expressed here… "

Anakin made a comical face. "You're conferring with Siri about me?"

"Not deliberately. Was she right?"

"Sort of. I mean, sure. Yeah."

"You said 'sort of' first, Anakin. What is it more precisely?"

Anakin stood up and crossed his arms, as though he had caught a chill, though the room was quite warm (when given the option, Anakin turned up the heat in any room he inhabited). He looked toward the wall. "Obi-Wan… "

"What?"

"It was just that… well, they weren't wrong." He turned, looking ashamed and apologetic. "I mean… well, that's not what I mean. They were mostly wrong about stuff they think they know. But some of the stuff is true. They just, you know, see it differently that you do. I mean, than we do."

I caught the first phrasing, Anakin. Obi-Wan reached out and touched Anakin's shoulder. He had always seemed to need more physical contact than other padawans to feel connected to the world and valued by his Master. "It is permissible for you to see things differently than I do."

"I don't mean just you and me. I mean they see things differently than the way the Order does. You know, taking babies and stuff. We really do that, you know."

"I'm aware. And I'm aware that some people disapprove."

"I guess they don't know how hard it is. You know, the discipline and everything."

"That would be my assumption."

Anakin gave him a guarded look. "A couple of the girls were talking about never getting to see the babies. They sounded like they didn't like that. I… well, I mean, I couldn't answer them, since I was Kit. But… "

"But as Anakin, you also have no answer?"

"Kind of."

"I see." Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder and briefly considered embracing him, but decided that even Anakin Skywalker would eventually reach an age where such things would be uncomfortable, and nearly fourteen was probably past it. Instead, he just patted the shoulder he was already touching, then let go. "It is a difficult life, Anakin, made more difficult for you because you remember another. But it's a life to which you are suited. Someday, you will be a great Jedi, among the greatest, I think."

This didn't bring a smile, as Obi-Wan had hoped. Instead, Anakin shivered again. "I know. The Chosen One."

"No. I have consciously avoided discussing the prophecy with you, Anakin, because I know it disturbs you, and because I do not know how to guide you in regards to it. I mean you will be a great Jedi knight, specifically because of your compassion. It is a trait I fear I lack sometimes, despite having Qui-Gon as a Master."

Anakin did not correct him on this, though he did manufacture a puzzled expression.

"Well, perhaps we had better do our evening meditations," Obi-Wan said. "You should get some sleep before school."

Anakin feigned a look of horror, then sat down across from Obi-Wan, and went into his usual restless meditations. Obi-Wan guided him silently until he was in a safe place, then simply stayed to watch over him.