Ascending

'Then they deserve trouble. I feel no pity for bastards, especially utter ones.'

I started toward the central square, where the snow drifted down the thickest. Snow is a fine thing indeed: it is pleasantly cool as it falls on your arms, and when the flakes melt against your skin, they leave attractive droplets of water. I am not such a one as wears clothes even in winter, but snowflake sprinkle is an excellent look for me.

The short Uclod man trudged at my side, muttering about the snow; he was obviously a Warm-Weather Creature, unprepared for a Melaquin winter. His skin, which had darkened in the tower, was now growing light again: turning from umber to orange, and onward to a bleached yellow jaundice reminiscent of dead grass. It could not have been that he was sickening from the cold, for the city was well-heated despite the note in the roof. (All around us, the snow melted as soon as it touched the pavement.) But Uclod’s skin seemed intent on reacting in exaggerated fashion to every tiny change in the environment.

'You were telling me about utter bastards,' I said, 'and why you have come to Melaquin if you are not after our land. Are you another fucking Explorer, marooned against your will?'

'Not me, missy,' he replied. 'I’m what you might call a private entrepreneur. Working at the moment for Alexander York.'

'Who is a friend of Festina’s.'

'Friend isn’t exactly the right word.' 'What is the right word?'

'Uh. Victim.'

Uclod’s tone suggested there might be an excellent story in how this York person became Festina’s victim. I asked him to disclose everything… and he did.

The Sinister Admiral York

Alexander York had been a very bad man. He was a high-ranking admiral in the Technocracy’s Outward Fleet, where he did many awful things to humans and a race called the Mandasars. York’s greatest villainy, however, was trying to kill my Faithful Sidekick, Festina. She tried to kill him right back, and with the help of some alien moss, she won. (I did not quite follow how that worked, but I believe she stuffed moss into the bad man’s stomach until he exploded. That is not how Uclod told the story, but his version was so strange and implausible that I chose to reconstruct his tale in a way that made more sense.)

At any rate, Alexander York died horribly as all base villains should. Soon everyone is the human Technocracy learned of the admiral’s reprehensible deeds. It was a top-of-the-broadcast story for many days, and the Most Famous Actor in The Galaxy played York’s role in the news dramatizations. The producers even got a Reasonably Famous Actress to play Festina. Apparently, the actress invented a delightful accent in lieu of characterization… and even though Festina does not actually have an unusual accent, the critics unanimously agreed it was what a Fringe-Worlder named Ramos should sound like.

In this way, York’s wickedness provided much wholesome family entertainment; but unbeknownst to the public, there was more to come.

The Unscrupulous York’s Protection Policy

The evil Mr. York had always suspected he might suffer violence from his enemies on the High Council of Admirals. (The council is a place where everyone schemes against everyone else, and people talk incessantly about Power with a capital Pow.') For insurance against his council colleagues, York kept meticulous records of every scandalous thing the high admirals did, individually and as a group: every foul trick, every breach of the law, every secret betrayal. In fact, Uclod said, 'York collected enough dirt to send the whole damned council to jail till the next millennium. Enough to get them chopped into giblets and fed to ugly dogs.'

(I asked if that was the type of thing one could watch. Uclod told me it was only a metaphor.)

As York accumulated this damning evidence, he placed it in the keeping of a family named Unorr: Uclod’s relatives. According to the small orange man, his uncles and aunts and cousins were reputably disreputable… which meant they were dreadful criminals who would do many dishonest things for a price, but once you bought them, they stayed bought.

'It’s quite the profitable market niche,' Uclod explained. 'You’d be amazed how few crooks actually keep their word… and the same with so-called honest people, lawyers and banks and all. Lawyers will always buckle under to something, whether it’s bribes, violence, court orders, or the weight of their own bullshit. Same with banks — they turn tail and run the instant something upsets the stockholders. But we Unorrs do what we’re paid to do, even when things get hot. Especially when things get hot. Which is why York hired us to take the High Council down.'

As soon as the Unorrs heard York was dead, they assembled the information they had received from the admiral and prepared to deliver it to the most irresponsible journalists they could find. But they also delegated junior family members (such as Uclod) to collect extra evidence of misdeeds that were not perfectly documented.

Therefore the small orange man had come to Melaquin. Until four years ago, my planet was used as a dumping ground for individuals the Admiralty wished to make disappear — Persons Who Knew Too Much, Persons Who Broke The Unwritten Code, and Persons Who Did Not Do Anything Specifically Wrong But Were Strongly Disliked Anyway. My clever Festina had forced a stop to this practice, but part of her agreement with the High Council was that she would keep the matter a secret. Everything had been hushed up and nobody breathed a word… except Alexander York, who wrote down the story and passed it to the Unorrs.

'The sticky point,' said Uclod, 'is that York’s only evidence about Melaquin was Festina Ramos’s statement. He didn’t bother getting substantiation — no footage of folks actually marooned here, no outside corroboration, no smoking gun…'

'The gun did not smoke,' I said, 'it whirred.'

'What gun?'

'The one with which I was shot. Repeatedly. By a wicked man.' (This was the same wicked man whom I later killed — he had a Pistol Of Inaudible Sound that wreaked hypersonic mayhem on the crystalline parts of my body. He thought his weapon would shatter me, but I am not real glass, so I survived. Shortly thereafter, I shattered him. Hah!)

'Right,' Uclod said, 'I read about that in Ramos’s report — the one she gave the High Council. But that report was the only documentation we ever got on Melaquin, and our family didn’t think it was enough. Even as we speak, my Grandma Yulai is back on New Earth, revealing the dirt York gave us. Next thing you know, the Admiralty and the media will send crews blasting toward Melaquin; but the navy flies faster, and by the time reporters arrive, there’ll be nothing to see. This place’ll be swept cleaner than the prick on a long-tongued dog. That’ll damage the credibility of the Melaquin story, which’ll damage the credibility of everything else in York’s expose.' He gave me a grin. 'So, missy, my grandma decided we needed more evidence before the navy had a chance to mop up. And that’s why I’m here.'

Evidence Lying All Over The Place

Uclod had come to Oarville with something called an Honest Camera, a complicated recording device invented by an advanced race called the Shaddill. The camera used clever scientific tricks to prevent people from tampering with the pictures it took; it also had built-in clocks and locator devices for proving exactly when and where its pictures had been taken. Lesser species like humans had not yet pierced the complexity of most Shaddill technology, in particular, they did not know how to circumvent the Shaddill’s protective measures, so the camera’s photographs would be accepted in Technocracy courts as Unfalsified Truth.

The little orange criminal had taken many photos to establish that human Explorers were once marooned here. When we reached the central square, I could see for myself the evidence those Explorers left — bits of navy equipment scattered all over, little tools and machine parts and backpacks. During their stay, the humans had worked to build a spaceship as a means of escape… and when they finally left, they departed so hurriedly they had not picked up after themselves.

If you want the truth, the square was a Scandalous Mess. Moreover, the litter was opaque — metal and canvas and colored plastic. The clutter had sat where it was since the humans left four years ago… and because it lay directly under the opening in the roof, it got snowed on in winter and rained on in summer, till it was very quite disgusting indeed: covered with molds of vivid fuzzy colors. When I picked up a discarded wad of clothing, I even saw speck-sized holes that must have been chewed by insects.

'That’s an Explorer jacket,' Uclod said, pointing to the garment I held.

I nodded. Most of the humans exiled on Melaquin had belonged to the navy’s Explorer Corps. I did not like Explorers so much — the worst of them could make you feel awkward and stupid, because you did not Know Science or how to Act Like A God-Damned Adult, For Christ’s Sake. At night they pleaded with you to play bed games, yet when morning came, they were Too Busy, Go Away and would not look you in the eye. Explorers could make you feel lonesome and bad… but my friend Festina was also an Explorer and she was always most kind, so Explorers were not all horrible.

I hugged the jacket to my chest. It was made of thick black cloth; snowflakes speckled the cloth like stars in the night sky.

'Did that belong to someone you knew?' Uclod asked.

'I do not think so. But Festina spoke most fondly of the Explorer’s black uniform. It was a Valuable Important Thing; she felt quite sad she had not thought to pack a spare outfit when she came to this planet.'

'I guess she had other concerns to worry about,' Uclod said. 'Considering how she thought Melaquin would be a suicide mission.'

'But many other Explorers thought to pack uniforms. They were warned they might be marooned here, so they brought important equipment and valuable personal treasures.' I looked at the trash strewn about the square. 'It seems those treasures were not so valuable after all. When the Explorers were ready to go, they did not care what they left behind. They just tossed everything away to rot in the street… to get cold and wet and snowed on, because they did not really care about anything except themselves.'

I stared up into the cold wet snow, suddenly feeling sad. 'Even Festina went away,' I whispered.

Uclod patted my hand. 'Hey,' he said in a soft voice, 'I read your friend’s statement about what happened here. Ramos didn’t leave your planet willingly; and anyway, she thought you were dead.'

'But I told her I could not die! I told her my people go on and on.'

'Oar,' Uclod interrupted, 'you looked dead. Ramos couldn’t find a heartbeat, not even with topnotch Explorer sensing equipment. She decided to leave you among your own people, because that’s what shethought you’d want.'

'But I was not dead! Not even a little bit!'

'Yeah, okay,' the wee orange man said, 'Ramos got it wrong. But even so, she didn’t just desert you — she took you back to that tower and laid you out all pretty. Hands folded, eyes closed, ax across your chest.' He gave a little smite. 'That’s what I thought I’d find when I came looking for you: a nice glass corpse I could photograph. I was even debating whether to lug your remains back to New Earth, so’s the lawyers could use you as Exhibit One. But when I got to where Ramos said you’d be, lo and behold, you were breathing. That’s why I asked if you were really Oar.'

'Which I am!' I told him, suddenly feeling bright again. 'You may rejoice, for I am not deceased after all.'