10: WHEREIN I EXPERIENCE GREAT FRUSTRATION

Pursuit

Back on the bridge, Uclod was strapped into his seat, with an icky pink intestine plastered over his face, It was not an appealing look — perhaps even I do not look so attractive wearing a major piece of bowel on my head — but I was beginning to get used to the constant presence of Starbiter’s internal organs. I did not even flinch as I threw myself into the jellyfish seat… but this time I lifted my arms high so they would not be trapped when the safety straps wrapped around me.

My strategy worked most excellently: the tendrils snaked up from the chair almost as soon as I touched down, weaving tight around my body but leaving my arms free. Then I had to lower my hands quickly as the intestine dropped from the ceiling — kissing the top of my head, then creeping down over my face with an itchy tickle. This time Starbiter did not have to test my vision or hearing: as soon as the hood was in place, I could see the star-speckled blackness of the void.

"Go to long-range scan," Uclod’s disembodied voice said. I do not know if the instruction was aimed at Lajoolie or Starbiter; either way, the starry view jumped and shimmered for a moment. When it stabilized again, I realized I was viewing the world in the monochrome I had experienced before — seeing through the special devices for perceiving great distances.

Even with this new perspective, I had difficulty picking out the Shaddill vessel; there was so much sky to survey, all around us, above and below. No doubt the stick-ship was pursuing from our rear, but with nothing to see but unmoving stars, I had no sense of which direction we were heading. At last I discerned a bristly dust mote just visible against the bleak constellations — definitely the stick-ship, though Uclod must have had very good eyes to spot it at such a distance.

"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."