Ascending

'Interference,' the whisperer said. 'Someone has interfered with our plan…'

'What plan?' I asked.

'Shut up!' Uclod yelled. 'We don’t want to hear about the plan. We don’t want to know there’s a plan. We weren’t here, we didn’t see a thing, we’re gone.'

'Oar… died, died, the—'

Something milky oozed out of Starbiter’s skin: like wispy smoke, thin enough to see through. I had no trouble peering at the stick-ship past the rippling white veil, but the unknown voice cut off mid-whisper.

'Good baby Starbiter,' Uclod cooed. 'Charged her FTL field in record time. Hang on, folks, we’re going to—'

A flash of blue-white light exploded from a stick jutting out of the Shaddill ship’s belly: a short sizzling burst like a lightning bolt. It made no sound, no thunder; but Uclod gave a surprised grunt and Lajoolie a gasping sigh. I too could not suppress a yelp… but the light disappeared as quickly as it came, not even leaving a burnt afterimage in my eyes. 'What was that?' I asked. No one answered.

'Uclod?' I said. 'Lajoolie? Speak now!' Silence.

'This is a foolish game,' I said. 'Especially at a time when one is in a state of consternation.' But the only sound was my own breathing.

Finally Taking Command

What had happened? I could only assume the lightning was a weapon that had killed or disabled my companions. With luck, they were only unconscious — a fate I had been spared because of my superlative constitution. Perhaps too, I should be grateful that the tactile centers of my brain had not been linked with the Zarett; whatever bludgeoning force had been transmitted to Uclod and Lajoolie, the effect had not got through to me.

I wished I could see my two comrades and evaluate their health. However, my eyes still perceived nothing but the world outside Starbiter: the black sky above, eclipsed by the looming stick-ship. The sticks were moving closer now, while our own craft merely drifted — sailing sideways in the direction we had last been heading. I could see sparks of light arcing between spindly projections on the alien ship, like fireflies flickering in the heart of a bramble patch. Something about them made me doubt they were harmless insects; perhaps the alien ship was a single gigantic brain, and the sparks were evil thoughts crackling through its consciousness.

A stick on the ship’s belly stretched lazily toward us: a great long tube telescoping outward, with a gaping mouth on the end. No, no, I thought, I have already been swallowed twice today, by a Zarett and by dangling intestines gobbling up my head. I shall not be eaten a third time… especially not by a stick.

Reaching out with my mind, I tried to re-create how I directed Starbiter to roll down the city street. Whatever I had done then, the Zarett obeyed willingly enough; surely she would be happy to listen to me again, especially since Uclod had fallen silent. Our ship was a mare who had lost her rider — would she not be thankful if a trustworthy person took over the reins?

I opened my mouth to say soothing things to the distraught Zarett… but quickly I changed my mind. As far as I knew, I was still hooked up for broadcasting; if I spoke aloud to Starbiter, the aliens would hear and I would lose the element of surprise. Therefore, I resolved to address the Zarett only with my thoughts; and to do it swiftly too, for the great stick-mouth was drawing near.

Starbiter, good and friendly one, I thought, squinching up my concentration very hard, you thought you were alone, but behold! I am Oar and I am here. We must now escape the evil sticks. Are you ready?

An answer did not come in words… but I thought the milky veil surrounding our craft rippled with relief. The Zarett had obviously been frightened; now she could rejoice she was not on her own, all sad and abandoned by people she trusted. All will be well, I told her, but we must fly very fast. As fast as you possibly can. Will you do that?

The veil rippled again. I got the impression our ship relished the chance to travel at top speed. If you viewed her as a racehorse with ancestors bred for competition, perhaps she felt underused by one such as Uclod: a mere errand-boy for his Grandma Yulai, cruising from place to place on tedious assignments that probably did not require sufficiently many daring escapes.

Do not worry, Starbiter, I thought, now that I am your pilot, life will become more exciting. Let us fly!

Flying At Break-Light Speeds

Zoom!

The stick-mouth was almost upon us… but in the blink of an eye it was gone. And we were gone: nothing is front of us but stars. When I looked behind, I could not see the stick-ship at all — just a half-moon object whose color was mist-faded blue. In less than a second, it dwindled to nothing more than a bright point of light. Only later did I realize it was not a half-moon at all but my planet Melaquin, blue with oceans; and now it was far behind us, scarcely different from anything else in the blackness.

But there was one object which stood out from everything else in The Void — the sun, hot and flaming, a ball of fire blazing fiercely in the night Its glare was so brilliant, I could have been blinded if I stared into it with my real eyes; but Starbiter was projecting the image straight into my head, bypassing the tender retinas that would have melted under such withering intensity.

In that moment, I had only one decision to make — should we fly toward or away from the sun? All other questions of navigation could not be answered: I did not know the way to New Earth, if that was where Uclod intended to go; I did not have any other destination in mind (except to find Festina and who knew where she might be?); I did not know if the stickship could track us, and I could not guess what artful tricks of evasion I might employ to make us harder to pursue. My only meaningful decision was whether to go toward the light, or to flee in some random direction through the blackness.

I am such a one as enjoys bright sunshine.

Starbiter seemed perfectly content to change course toward the sun. The moment the idea passed through my head, we started in that direction… and we moved most exceedingly fast, as if falling from a great height into the giant ball of fire. Indeed, we moved faster than the speed of light, thanks to the milky smoke surrounding us. Uclod had called that smoke our FTL field, and Explorers had told me FTL was a scientific effect allowing starships to defy the Laws Of Physics.[3] Law-breaking or not, we reached our goal in less than a second and a half: hovering motionless in space before the sim’s blazing immensity.

[3] — Personally, I would not use the word 'law' for any principle that breaks so easily. However, Science People like to believe in laws, even when such laws can be circumvented by their own Science. They become most displeased if you suggest it would be more accurate to speak of the Generally Good Idea Of Gravity or the Three Useful Guidelines Of Thermodynamics.

Here is a thing you may not know about suns — they are large and bright. By this I mean that no matter how large and bright you believe suns to be, they are larger and brighter than that. I had certainly expected my planet’s sun to prove impressive, but I had not known how utterly imposing it would be. Perhaps, I thought to myself, Uclod was not entirely wrong, deeming it foolhardy to enter such an inferno.

Starbiter had chosen to halt when we got sufficiently close, like a horse reluctant to venture too near a fire. I too was beginning to think we had approached to an acceptable distance — near enough to see great curling streamers of flame shooting into the void, and mysterious darknesses drifting across the brighter surface like icebergs on a burning sea — when I caught a flicker of motion out the corner of my eye.

Materializing beside us, lit by the searing light of the sun, there was the stick-ship again.

Retreating Star-ward

I do not know if I unconsciously gave an order to Starbiter, or if she moved on her own — bolting from something that frightened her. Either way, we took a big hop up and over the sun, as if we were jumping a small rock in the middle of a path.

Hah! I thought, now find us; for even if the stick-people had uncanny viewing devices that perceived great distances, I did not believe they could see us straight through the sun. Alas, I was mistaken — almost immediately, the alien craft appeared again and this time directly behind our ship, like a massive brush barrier walling us off from open space, penning us against the sun itself. All around the outer edge, sticks began sprouting outward, growing at a prodigious rate… until the whole alien vessel resembled a hand with hundreds of outstretched fingers, and we were almost cupped in the palm.

What to do? Starbiter was certainly swift enough to zip around those fingers and out to freedom; but the stick-ship seemed able to track us no matter where we went, and if we headed for open space, could we outrun the alien in a straight contest of speed? I did not know. Even if Starbiter was faster in a short sprint, could she stay ahead of the big ship hour after hour, as we blundered through space in search of safe haven? I did not know that either… but I disliked trusting to luck.

Back! I ordered. Back into the sun!

The Zarett retreated reluctantly, halving the distance between us and the roiling ball of fury at our backs. For a split second, the stick-ship fell out of sight… but then it appeared closer than ever, a monstrous hand reaching out to grab us. Back! I ordered. Back all the way! Because I thought to myself, which is more likely to catch fire first: a damp Zarett ball, or a great bundle of sticks? It was simple logic that the stick-folk would be in greater danger than Starbiter, if they insisted on chasing us all the way into the flames, they were fools who could suffer the consequences.

We skipped backward in a series of hiccupy motions, zipping a short distance, stopping to see if the stick-ship followed, then retreating farther when our pursuer reappeared.

I could not tell if the aliens were truly teleporting after us, or just moving so quickly they seemed to come from nowhere. Starbiter and I traveled quickly ourselves, each backward hop so fast I could not perceive the transition: the sun simply ballooned a little larger with each jump, its prominences wilder and more threatening, its dark spots looming ever nearer.

With every jump, I sensed greater fear in the Zarett. She showed no damage from the heat — looking down at her body, I could see no sign she was burning or even turning the slightest bit crispy — but like most lower animals, Starbiter seemed cowed by the very presence of fire. Each time I ordered her to retreat, I felt her reluctance growing. There, there, I thought in my most soothing way, it is all right, good girl, do not worry you will be burned to a cinder and disintegrate into howling ash… but there came a time when even such encouragements could not overcome her terror: when I said, Jump, she did not move.

Move now! I thought again. It had no effect. She stayed where she was, trembling, as the stick-ship shot into view. We must move, I told her desperately, or we shall be captured.

Starbiter did not budge. Perhaps she did not care if we were captured… or killed, or whatever these Shaddills wished to do with us. To be honest, I was not sure