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, 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.