"It’s gaining on us," he said. "Not quickly, but it’s definitely gaining."
"Then we must go faster," I told him. "Encourage Starbiter to put on more speed."
"Missy," he answered, "my sweet little girl is already ripping along ten times faster than any Zarett before her. It doesn’t seem to hurt her, but I’ll be damned if I risk her life trying to speed up."
"She is a good and willing Zarett. She will try to go faster if you ask."
"I’m not going to ask! There’s no reason to drive her till she drops. Even if the Shaddill catch us, they won’t kill us, will they? They’re afraid of the League, just like anyone else."
"But they can lock us in prison forever! The League does not care about kidnapping or enslavement; they only object to murder."
"I know," Uclod said. "That’s why we’re running, toots."
We were not running fast enough: little by little, the image of the stick-ship grew. That was all I saw — the background stars did not shift, and I had no sense of motion in my body. It felt as if we were standing still, while the Shaddill approached us as slow as squinch-bugs.
This is not good at all, I thought It appeared as if the Pollisand’s teeny-tiny-eensy-weensy chance of disaster befalling me was not so minuscule as he implied. How long ago had I talked with him? Less than an hour. And already catastrophe clutched at my throat.
No wonder the Pollisand arrived when he did; and no wonder he so blithely promised to cure my Tired Brain. He must have known, even as we spoke, that the Shaddill were chasing us… and if he knew that, he must have guessed the Shaddill would commit horrid deeds on my person once they caught us. That is the whole reason Mr. Asshole Pollisand had tricked me into saying, "Oh no, the League should not hold you to blame if awful things transpire; I will assume responsibility myself."
It seems I had been taken for a Sucker. Sometimes, even I can be a most grievous poop-head.
A Brilliant Idea
I desperately wanted to do something — to run on my own two feet, or throw stones at the incoming ship; but that was pure foolishness. We had no way to fight or intimidate the stick-people.
Unless…
"Uclod!" I called. "As official communications officer, I should like to broadcast a message."
"What kind of message?" he asked.
"A loud one. Can you arrange for it to be heard at long distances?"
"Sure — Starbiter can broadcast in deep ether. God knows she’s brimming with enough power, we can probably cover fifteen cubic parsecs in a single burst."
"Good. I want everyone to hear me."
"We’ll hit all the public bands. Give me a second."
I could hear soft noises nearby — Uclod working the Zarett’s controls. Then he murmured, "Okay, toots: you’re on the air. Can’t wait to hear you persuade the Shaddill to back off."
But I had no intention of speaking to the evil stick-people. "Attention Technocracy navy!" I said. "Especially the foolish Captain Prope. Here we are. Come and get us!"
Silence. Seconds slipped by with no answer. Then Uclod let out his breath in a long sigh. "You think the Shaddill will run away if the human navy shows up?"
"Yes," I answered, attempting humility despite the brilliance of my idea.
"Toots," said Uclod, "you got two problems with that. First, the navy ships are way the hell back in the Melaquin system; we’re traveling lightyears too fast for them to catch up with us. Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t think any ship could make the speed we’re going… but it seems a sun-charged Zarett can, and a Shaddill ship is even faster. The navy are goddamned snails in comparison. By the time they get here, we’ll be long gone — probably swallowed by the Shaddill ship. And that’s if the navy even heard us. The other problem with your tactic is that half a second into your broadcast, the Shaddill jammed our signal. The most anyone heard was a hiccup."
"I did not hiccup!"
"Whatever you did, no one heard past the first two syllables. Granted, the navy was probably listening on all bands, hoping we’d break radio silence; good chance they caught the blip. They may even have got a location fix. But they’re just too far away, missy — we’ve been zipping along for hours at a speed they can’t possibly match. They’re out of the picture, and we’re on our own."
Of course, the navy could speed up their ships… if they ventured into the sun and energized their FTL fields. But the insolent Captain Prope would never be brave enough to attempt such a stratagem — not when she believed going into the sun meant death.
Perhaps one of the other captains would try, but even that seemed unlikely. These fools had possessed starships for centuries, yet none had experimented with venturing into a star. No sense of curiosity… nor any other sense I could discern. Had no rich wastrel ever sent a ship into the sun just to see it burn? Had no crazed person ever tried to commit suicide by solar immolation? Humans had been driving starships for four hundred years; Divians had ridden Zaretts for a thousand. In all that time, had no one ever swooped close to a star? How could that possibly be?
But I had no answers; I only had the image of the stickship coming slowly toward us, like a tumbleweed blowing in from the horizon. It was still far off, no bigger than a bumblebee against the blackness; yet second by second, it grew perceptibly.
"Maybe I should ask Starbiter for more speed," Uclod muttered nervously. "But what would be the point? The Shaddill ate sure to have the edge on us, no matter how fast we go. If they gave us Zaretts for free, you can be damned sure they kept something better for themselves. Like handing your frumpy old zigrim to your kid brother, after you get a snappy new lentz—"
I did not know what those things were; but I had lived beneath the thumb of an older sister, and I understood the principle quite well. The Shaddill would not give away Zaretts unless they had something at least slightly superior. "Perhaps," I said, "if we flew into another sun, we could charge Starbiter to even greater speeds."
"We’re in open space now, toots — nowhere near a sun." The little man grunted. "Nothing to do but keep going, and hope for a lucky break. Maybe the Shaddill will have a malfunction… or shut off their engines for a holy day of rest."
"Is that likely?" I asked.
"No. But when my back is to the wall, I always like to pretend there’s a way to dodge the bullet. Maybe the Shaddill captain will keel over from a heart attack and his crew will run away, thinking we have some fancy cardiac weapon."
"Maybe," Lajoolie murmured, "the captain will let us go because he falls in love with Oar."
"I do not think that is funny," I said.
Uclod asked his tongue. "Don’t be such a party-pooper, missy — when you’re well and truly screwed, either you just sit pissing yourself or you invent some reason to hope. Maybe we’ll get sucked into a wormhole and pop out halfway across the universe."
"Maybe," said Lajoolie, "my talented husband will discover he has telekinetic powers that can hold the Shaddill at bay."
"Maybe our enemies will get eaten by giant glass butterflies," I said sharply. "This game is a waste of time! We should take evasive action."
"We will," Uclod said, "as soon as it’ll do us any good. When the Shaddill get close enough to grab us, we’ll stay out of their clutches as long as possible." He laughed without humor. "It’s not like I want to get caught, missy… but we’re bare-ass in space with nowhere to hide for a few trillion klicks in any direction. We don’t have weapons, we don’t have friends, and we don’t have a lot of options. Run or surrender: pick one." "Hmmph," I said. "I made a very bad choice when I decided to accompany you."