"Borrowed. But only so I could repay the credits! You see?"

"Well," Obi-Wan said, "you're just going to have to return it."

"Ah," Didi said. "Another excellent suggestion. Except it's too late.

I've sold the speeder."

"At least then you can give them the credits," Obi-Wan said with a sigh.

"But I can't! I have to place another bet!"

Obi-Wan turned away. "Fine. I'm no longer involved. I'm telling Bog who stole the speeder, and you can explain it any way you want."

"Wait!" Didi screeched hurriedly. "My good friend, Obi-Wan! You don't understand! I will return the speeder most definitely! My bet is a sure thing."

"No bet is a sure thing, Didi," Obi-Wan said. "When are you going to learn that?"

"But this one is! I promise!"

Obi-Wan paused. Anakin watched his face. He had expected his Master to walk away, but something Didi said had stopped him. It seemed a minor problem to Anakin. Why was Obi-Wan getting involved?

"How do you know the bet is a sure thing?" Obi-Wan asked.

Didi looked uncomfortable under Obi-Wan's scrutiny. "Well. You might say I have a tip."

"What kind of tip?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"A tip that an event is fixed," Didi admitted. "From a source I trust.

" "Who?" Obi-Wan demanded.

"Someone you know," Didi said. "Fligh."

Obi-Wan groaned. "Not Fligh. Is he on Euceron?"

"Of course," Didi said. "Isn't everyone? And you can't beat Fligh's information. If there's a nasty, secret bit of business, you can bet Fligh knows about it. So how could I ignore his advice? The swoop obstacle race is fixed and I know the winner. If you'd let me make the bet, everything will be fine. My problems will be solved, and I know how much you want this.

"Wait here," Obi-Wan told him sternly.

He drew Anakin aside. "I think we should pursue this," he said. "If some of the events are fixed, it could cause major trouble. It could be a serious disruption of the peace."

We're wasting time on this. I could be with the Podracers. I could be helping Doby and Deland. They are trying to free their sister. Didi is trying to win a bet. Which is more important?

Anakin hid his disappointment with a frown. "Who is Fligh? Do you trust him?"

"Trust him?" Obi-Wan grimaced. "Not at all. But if he's heard something, we could have problems even if his information is false. Fligh hangs around the Senate. He knows everyone and passes along information for credits. If he's heard an event is fixed, he isn't the only one who thinks this." He sighed. "As much as I'd like to walk away from this, I'm afraid we'll have to investigate." Obi-Wan gave Anakin a careful look. "What is wrong, Padawan?"

"It seems… a waste of time to me," Anakin said, reluctant to contradict his Master. "We are here as peacekeepers. There is a better use of Jedi time." He did not mention Doby and Deland, but he knew his Master would know what he was not saying.

Obi-Wan nodded as if considering Anakin's opinion. "What do you think would be a better use of our time?" Anakin looked down and said nothing.

"Tell me," Obi-Wan continued, "what do you think would happen if it was discovered that some of the events are fixed?"

Anakin shrugged. "Some will be upset. Especially those who have placed illegal bets."

"What about the planets involved? If it appears that some have cheated, or conspired to defraud the Games, how will other worlds react?

Each world sends the very best of its athletes to compete in the Games.

These beings are often great heroes on their home-worlds. What if they are denied their victories because an event is fixed?"

"I guess it could create some unrest," Anakin said, after a pause.

"Yes, young Padawan," Obi-Wan said. "Hundreds of thousands of beings are crammed into one city. All have come to cheer their heroes or their future heroes. It may not seem an important lead for us to follow, but missions don't always start out with a battle. Sometimes they begin with something insignificant. Some-thing unimportant. Part of being a Jedi is to recognize the small thing that can change everything."

"If it is so small, how can we recognize it?"

"We take ourselves out of what we are looking at," Obi-Wan answered.

Anakin scowled. "I don't understand."

Obi-Wan put his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "I know. That is why you are still a Padawan. Someday you will."

Chapter Nine

Obi-Wan didn't blame Anakin for his puzzlement. Didi's bet didn't appear to be worth Jedi investigation. But instinct was ticking inside Obi- Wan, telling him that this was something to pursue. He had learned not to ignore that small voice. Qui-Gon had taught him that. If he could teach Anakin one thing, it would be to slow down enough to hear that insistent sound, sometimes no more than a whisper, that said, follow this.

Didi nervously scuttled through the crowded streets, his eyes alert for the security force he was sure would be pursuing him soon. "It occurs to me that Fligh might not be too pleased to hear that I have involved the Jedi," he said. "Perhaps it would be better if you went on alone."

"No, it wouldn't," Obi-Wan answered firmly.

Didi stopped and turned. "Do not take this wrong. I am honored and blessed with your presence. But being friends with you is not easy, Obi- Wan."

"I know."

Didi turned into a crowded open-air plaza. Fountains played in the center, each one displaying the colors of a different world and changing in the next instant to another, so that the sparkling water seemed to glow with a thousand colors at once. Trees and bushes from planets around the galaxy had been placed in huge stone urns that offered shade for the chairs and tables set up underneath. A large screen flashed the opening times of various events, as well as the best routes to get to them. Other smaller screens showed events taking place in the various stadiums. Beings from around the galaxy sat watching the screens, sipping juice or tea, eating sweets, and watching children play in the multicolored fountains. A four- piece band played soft jizz-wail music.

Obi-Wan's glance swept the plaza. Although he had not seen Fligh in many years, he recognized him immediately. He sat with his back to a wall snaked with blooming vines, tapping one long foot to the music. He sipped from a glass of bright yellow juice. He was as thin and spidery as ever, and his long ears appeared even longer, the lobes resting on his shoulders.