Ascending (5 page)

“I cannot feel anything,” I said. And it was true. Though snow still fell all around, I could not feel its cold dampness, nor could I sense the solidity of the street beneath the Zarett’s body.

“Don’t worry,” Uclod said, “you’ll likely feel something in time. It’s just a matter of the dear girl analyzing the structure of your brain: where to send which impulses to make you experience the proper input. You shouldn’t be hard to figure out—you’re likely similar to
Homo sapiens
, and Zaretts can link with humans. I’ll just check…” He paused, then muttered, “No, I’m wrong. I’m looking at your neural readouts, and you got some major deviations from normal Earthling configurations. Vision and hearing are close to
Homo sap
, but your touch and body kinetics are totally alien. Starbiter can’t even find your basic pain centers.”

“That is good,” I said. “I do not wish to feel basic pain.”

“Can’t blame you,” Uclod replied, “but it means you’ll miss the full experience. Speaking of which, I’ll let you drive once we get into empty space where you won’t hit anything…but in the meantime, don’t give Starbiter orders, okay? That bit where you rolled her along the street—you could get us all killed if
you
tell her one thing while
I
say something different. She knows I’m her daddy, and she’ll always listen to me over you; but she can still get confused with two folks shouting at once.”

“I shall not shout,” I said, “provided you drive wisely. Or at least amusingly. May we fly into the sun?”

Lajoolie responded with a Gasp Of Horror. Uclod too seemed upset, for he cried, “Are you out of your mind?”

“It is not insane to solicit information through polite inquiries,” I said with wounded dignity. “I would find it most agreeable to fly through the sun—I am such a one as derives pleasant nourishment from sunlight, and it would be delightfully invigorating to be bathed in such light from all sides. But if you choose not to gratify me, I am sure you have your own small-minded reasons.”

“Missy,” Uclod said, “you clearly don’t understand suns. Or solar radiation. Or big fucking gravitational forces. Not to mention the solar wind, the electromagnetic field, and God knows what else. Hell, on sheer density alone, we’d have an easier time flying through the core of Melaquin than the heart of your sun.”

“We do not have to fly through the core of Melaquin,” I told him. “I have already seen Melaquin. And we would not have to fly through the
heart
of the sun if it frightens you. We could just venture in a short distance. At least to begin with. Until you grew comfortable with the idea.”

“Not today,” Uclod said, in the tone people use when they mean
Not ever.
“Our first concern is hightailing it out of this system before the navy shows up. Now be a good girl, and shut your trap while I finish preparing for takeoff.”

He was a lucky little man. My arms were still strapped to the chair.

Up

Three minutes passed in silence. The snow continued to fall through my field of vision, but I could not feel its touch. Now and then, odd twinges erupted in random parts of my body—a bite of cold behind my left knee, something brushing my right shoulder, the strange sensation of lifting heavy objects with both hands—but nothing lasted more than a heartbeat. Apparently, Starbiter was still trying to understand the tactile centers of my brain, but my intellect was too complex to yield to the Zarett’s comprehension.

Hah!

“We’re ready,” Uclod finally announced. “Takeoff in five, four, three, two, one.”

We lifted slowly from the street…which is to say, my point of view rose upward, higher and higher as if riding the elevator in an Ancestral Tower. I could not, however, feel the movement in my body: according to my muscles, I was still sitting flat and level in a motionless chair. It was most strange indeed, and disturbing too—especially when Star-biter rolled in midair so that we faced straight up at the hole in the roof. From this angle, I should have felt I was tipped back on my spine; yet it still seemed as if I were comfortably upright, the way one might sit in the chair of a teaching machine.

I wondered if the starship had finally discovered how to make me feel sensations that were not actually so: sitting up straight instead of lying on my back. Then I decided the opposite must be true—Starbiter did not know how to make me feel the correct experiences, so she simply kept me in the one state she understood, leaving me “sitting up” until she learned how to simulate something else. That would become most annoying in time…but perhaps it was not so bad to begin my journey this way, especially if the Zarett were to embark upon dizzying maneuvers that could provoke Stomach Upset in one unaccustomed to aerobatic gyrations.

The ship climbed face upward into snow, the blizzard thickening around us by the second. Sounds grew muted, even the howling storm—its wind threw snowflakes at us in a constant whirl, but the noise had faded to a soft and sandy blur. Soon I could see nothing but buffeting white; I did not know how Uclod would ever find the hole we were aiming for. I dearly hoped Starbiter possessed Technical Features that could see more than I could, or there was an excellent chance we would smash against the stone ceiling instead of our intended exit.

Suddenly the blizzard disappeared, leaving nothing but starry night above us. I looked around perplexed, wondering where the snow had gone. There was nothing in sight, no buildings, no roof, not even mountains; but when I turned my attention downward, I saw dark billowy clouds receding swiftly below us.

“We are up in the sky!” I said. “We are high above the clouds!”

“Yes,” answered Uclod’s disembodied voice.

“We are up so high, one cannot see the ground!”

“You’ll see it again once we get more altitude,” Uclod said. “You’ll see the land, the ocean, the polar ice-caps…”

“Husband,” Lajoolie interrupted. Her voice possessed a sharp edge I had never heard before. “An object on long-range sensors,” she said. “It’s huge.”

I looked around but saw nothing. Lajoolie’s “long-range sensors” must be special devices for perceiving great distances. Perhaps as Uclod drove, his wife scanned the depths in search of potential danger.

“When you say ‘huge,’” Uclod said, “how big are we talking? Asteroid? Comet? A fucking navy cruiser?”

“Bigger than the navy’s largest dreadnought,” Lajoolie answered, her voice a bare whisper, “but it’s not a natural phenomenon. I’m detecting a coherent electric field. Internal power generation.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“That we’re in for a crapfest,” Uclod replied. “It must be a starship…butifit’s bigger than anything in the human navy, it doesn’t belong to any alien race we usually meet. Gotta be a heavy hitter from higher up in the League. Somehow we’ve caught the interest of the big boys.” He growled something under his breath, then told Lajoolie, “Honey, chart me an evasion course while I fire up the drive. Oar!”

“Yes?”

“You’ve spent time with Explorers. You remember that phrase they use?
Greetings, I am a sentient citizen…”

“Of course I remember. They say it incessantly.”

“Then you’re our new communications officer. I’ll set you up for broadcast, and you keep repeating that
Greetings
crap till I tell you to stop.”

I did not appreciate the way he barked orders at me…but I liked the idea of becoming communications officer. I am
excellent
at communications.

“Okay, toots,” Uclod said, “you’re on the air. And no matter what, keep talking till we’re ready to go FTL.”

I took a deep breath. “Greetings,” I said in my most win-some voice, “I am a sentient citizen of the League of Peoples. I beg your Hospitality.”

This was an Important Message Of Goodwill, supposed to be Universally Recognized. At least, I had been told so by human Explorers. I did not know how the speech could impress alien beings who did not comprehend Earthling English…and surely the galaxy must be full of such creatures. Therefore, as soon as I had recited the phrases in human words, I repeated them in my own language, which is more beautiful and therefore more apt to be used by highly advanced cultures. After that I switched back to English, then my native tongue, then English again, and so on at least three times—by which point I was sure the aliens must be as bored as I was. I had begun to ponder ways to “spice up my delivery” with heightened emotive inflection and perhaps some very funny jokes I invented with my sister, when a Large Inexplicable Object materialized in our path.

Chased By A Bundle Of Sticks

One moment, there was nothing ahead of us but empty black sky. The next, my field of vision was filled with what looked like a tangle of bracken: sticks woven together randomly, with twigs jutting out at all angles. I could not guess how huge it might be—with no reference points, I could not even tell if the stick-thing was close at hand or far away—but it easily dwarfed our Zarett and appeared to grow ever more enormous by the second. The twigs sticking out so haphazardly might be the size of full trees or even gigantic towers: as if someone had torn up the buildings of a great city and tossed them into a loose heap straight in front of us.

“Waaaahhh!” Uclod screamed. Starbiter veered sideways so fast my eyes blurred. For a moment, it seemed we could zip around the stick-thing’s edge, and perhaps get past it; but then the great bundle of twigs shifted in the same direction, blocking us off again. Uclod said something guttural in a language I did not understand, and our Zarett began a furious zigzag.

“Not to worry,” the little man called, “another few seconds and our FTL will be ready.
Then
let’s see those bastards block us.”

“They may manage it,” Lajoolie said in a weak voice. “Do you know what that is, husband?”

“Not a clue.”

“It’s a Shaddill ship. I’ve seen drawings in the Tikuun Archive.”

“Shaddill?” Uclod repeated. “Here and now? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck.”

“Are these the same Shaddills who created your camera?” I asked. “What do they want?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Just keep up the
Greetings
, okay? Make sure they know we’re sentient.”

I scowled at him, though he could not see my face. Why should I waste time on a foolish message when the words had no effect? The stick-thing was playing the bully, hindering us whenever we tried to go around. Such behavior deserved a punch in the nose, not
Please, may we be your friends.

“Greetings, you churlish Shaddills!” I said. “I am a sentient person named Oar. I no longer want your Hospitality; I just want you out of the way, you big poop-heads.”

“Oh lovely,” Uclod muttered. “Top marks for diplomacy, toots.”

But even as he spoke, a second voice whispered in my ear. “Oar?” it said. “Oar?”

“Yes,” I answered. “An oar is an implement used to propel boats.”

“Oar,” the voice whispered. “Died…died…dead.”

“Do not be foolish!” I snapped. “I am not dead at all, you crazed Shaddill ones!”

“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, die—”

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 midwhisper.

“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 in 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 mistfaded 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 stick-ship 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.