Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare by A.C. Crispin Read Free Book Online

sack of loot, he kicked, wriggling, trying to squeeze through the narrow enclosure. In the dark outside lay safety. A feminine cry of dismay: “My jewelry!
”
    Han grunted with effort, realizing he was stuck. He fought back panic. He had to get away! This was a rich house, and when someone summoned the authorities, they were certain to come immediately
.
    Silently he cursed the new vogue in Corellian architecture that had caused this luxurious home to be built with floor-to-ceiling narrow windows. The windows were advertised as being able to thwart burglars. Well, there might be some truth to that, he decided grimly. He’d sneaked in earlier through one of the doors that led to the gardens, then hidden out until he’d felt safe in believing that all the inhabitants were asleep. Then he’d ventured out to pick and choose among their treasures. He’d been confident that he could wiggle his skinny, nine-year-old self through those windows and make good his escape
.
    Han grunted with effort again, kicking frantically. It was possible he was wrong about that …
    A voice behind him. The woman. “There he is! Get him!
”
    Han turned a little more sideways, wriggled violently, and then suddenly he was through the window and falling. He didn’t let go of his sack, though, as he crashed down onto the manicured bed of flowering dorva vines. Breath whooshed out of his lungs, and for a moment he just lay
there, gasping, like a drel out of water. His leg hurt, and so did his head
.
    “
Call the security patrol!” The masculine shout came from inside. Han knew he had only seconds to make good his escape. Forcing his leg to bear his weight, he rolled over and staggered to his feet
.
    Trees ahead in the moonslight … big ones. He could lose himself in them, easy
.
    Han half limped, half ran to the shelter of the trees. He resolved not to let Eight-Gee-Enn know what had happened. The droid might accuse him of slowing down now that he was going on ten
.
    Han grimaced as he ran. He wasn’t slowing down, he just hadn’t been feeling well today. He’d had a dull headache ever since he’d awakened, and had been tempted to turn himself in on sick call
.
    Since Han was almost never ill, he’d probably have been believed, but he didn’t like showing weakness in front of other denizens of
Trader’s Luck.
Especially Captain Shrike. The man never missed an opportunity to ride him
.
    He was in the shelter of the trees, now. What next? He could hear the sound of running footsteps, so he didn’t have much time to decide. His muscles made that decision for him. Suddenly the sack was clenched in his teeth, there was bark against his palms, and the soles of his beat-up boots were braced against branches. Han climbed, listened, then climbed again
.
    Only when he was high in the tree, above the range of a casual glance by pursuers, did he slow down. Han settled back on a limb, against the tree trunk, panting, his head whirling. He felt dizzy, nauseated, and for a moment he was afraid he’d be sick and give himself away. But he bit his lip and forced himself to stay still, and presently he felt a little better
.
    Judging from the star patterns, it was only a few hours until dawn. Han realized that he was going to have trouble making the rendezvous with the
Luck’s
shuttle. Would Shrike just abandon him, or would he wait?
    Far below him, people were searching the wooded area
.
Lights strobed the night, and he huddled close to the tree trunk, eyes closed, clinging desperately despite his dizziness. If only his head didn’t throb so …
    Han wondered whether they’d bring in bioscanners, and shivered. His skin felt hot and tight, even though the night was cool and breezy
.
    Dark waned on toward dawn. Han wondered what Dewlanna was doing, whether she’d miss him if the
Luck
left orbit without him
.
    Finally, the lights went out, and the footsteps faded away. Han waited another twenty minutes to make sure his pursuers were truly gone,