My words of reassurance showed no sign of comforting her. Uclod had to nudge her forward another step and ask, “Are you going to say hello to Oar, honey?”
“Hello, Oar,” the woman said softly. There was something odd about her voice—as if it was actually quite low but she was forcing it higher, like a male pretending to be female. I wondered if this person might truly be a man, despite the wallabies looming under her shirt; perhaps some types of alien men had prominent wallabies. Then again, perhaps some types of alien women had low voices they forced higher for foolish alien reasons…and it was all very boring to think about, so I stopped immediately.
I am excellent at putting a stop to moments of introspection.
“Well done,” Uclod told the woman beside him, apparently believing that saying hello took great courage. “Oar, this is my wife, U. C. Lajoolie.”
The woman half-whispered, “A lajoolie is a small glass bottle used for holding paprikaab.”
Uclod gave her a smiling squeeze. “Isn’t that nice, Oar? Lajoolie told you what her name means.”
I said, “I do not know what paprikaab is.”
When Lajoolie did not answer, Uclod leaned his head toward me. “Damned if I know either. The little woman comes from a different planet than me—she’s a Tye-Tye, I’m a Freep. We’re newlyweds, and still kind of sketchy about each other’s cultures.”
“Oh,” I said. Then I stared straight into the woman’s eyes and spoke with the clear enunciation one uses to address the mentally unfit. “I am most glad a lajoolie is a glass bottle. I am sure it is very pretty.”
The big woman stared at me in silence for a moment. Then she touched my arm and gave a timid smile.
Scanning Starbiter’s Bridge
“Okay, great!” Uclod said in the over-hearty way of males who wish to pretend all problems have been solved forever. “Enough blathering—it’s time for work. Sooner or later, the navy will show up…and by then, we want to be gone.”
He moved a tiny distance away from Lajoolie, who still had an arm wrapped tightly around him. This led to a dainty tug-of-war between the two…not that the woman was truly trying to keep hold of the little man, but even her unthinking strength was enough that Uclod could not break her grip. He had to pull away slightly, wait for her arm to ease, then detach himself a bit more. I could not understand why he did not say, “Release me!” or why she made him wriggle free in such a manner rather than just letting go; but there is no comprehending aliens unless you try, and it is seldom worth the effort. Instead, I averted my gaze from their antics and took my first good look at my surroundings.
The previous chamber had been completely empty except for glowing wall-fungus. This new room, however, had Mysterious Protrusions jutting from the floor, the ceiling, and the single round wall that encircled the place. The floor protrusions were obviously chairs…provided one did not mind sitting on great ugly lumps that appeared to be bone and cartilage upholstered with half-dried jellyfish. Normally, I would not be distressed by such jellyfish—at least they were transparent, which is why I could see the chair’s bony frame underneath—but their shriveled outer surfaces were starting to flake off, while the inner parts retained enough of their juices to wobble with shivery abandon. When you sat on them, I suspected they might squirm like things alive.
As for other protrusions in the room, I had no idea what they were. For example, above each chair hung long cords dangling from the roof: cords that resembled the intestines of a groundhog after it has been partly consumed by a coyote. This is not the sort of thing I would suspend from my ceiling, especially not above where people might sit; the intestines would sweep back and forth across a person’s hair with agitating gooeyness. If this is what amused Uclod and Lajoolie, I would not enjoy their company…but then, I would not enjoy remaining on Melaquin either—especially if navy humans arrived with the intention of eradicating evidence of Explorer habitation.
After all, I was such evidence myself: a firsthand witness to everything that happened. Wicked navy persons could not murder me on sight or the League of Peoples would never let them leave Melaquin. However, there was no League law against abducting me to parts unknown: to isolated parts unknown, where one would be devoid of sufficient stimulation to keep one’s brain from becoming Tired.
I turned sharply back to Uclod and Lajoolie. “Hurry now. Let us leave before malicious Earthlings arrive.”
Appropriate Restraints
“Right you are, missy.” Uclod finished detaching himself from his wife (or rather she let him go when she saw I was ready to pry him loose myself). “Find yourself a chair,” he said, moving to a seat of his own. He chose a place in front of the largest collection of bulges swelling from Starbiter’s wall. Lajoolie fairly ran to the position on his left…and since the chairs were arranged like a circle of toadstools all facing the wall, I took the seat on Uclod’s right.
No sooner had I settled down than a number of leathery tendrils sprouted from the chair and wrapped about my person. Some sprang from the seat and belted across my thighs, while others snaked from the chair-back to tie down my arms and torso. It happened so quickly, I did not have time to fight…and one good heave of my muscles proved the straps too sturdy to break.
Instead, I turned toward Uclod, intending to demand he release me; but he too was tethered to his seat with bindings like mine, as was his wife. Somehow they had contrived to keep their arms free, but that was all: they were well and truly webbed in.
Neither of them looked concerned at such confinement, not even the fainthearted Lajoolie. Therefore this must be standard operating procedure for spaceships—nothing at all to fret over.
When I recovered from my initial surprise, I remembered flying with Festina in an aeroplane. Aeroplanes also have straps, used as safety devices to prevent Calamitous Injuries during flight. That made me feel better about the tendrils clutched around my body. After a moment, I decided it would not be so bad if the restraints were even tighter in certain locations; but I could not see how to cinch them up myself, and Uclod was busy rubbing his hands against the bulges on the wall in front of him. I resolved to ask about adjusting the straps later…but that thought immediately vanished when something swallowed my head.
Intestines With Mouths
I had forgotten about the intestines dangling from the ceiling. When I first got seated, I had ducked low enough to keep the things clear of my head. Now, however, they descended to grab me, first making slimy contact with my scalp, then creeping quickly downward. I had not noticed the intestines possessed mouths, but obviously they did—mouths that could open as wide as a snake’s, stretching without difficulty to envelop my hair, brow, and eyes. Writhing could not shake the mouth off me…and my arms were locked under the straps that held me to the chair. At most, I might have screamed; but I refused to do that, for fear Uclod and Lajoolie would think I was a coward.
After all, this might be another procedure of alien Science: if I howled and moaned, Uclod might dismiss me as an ignorant savage who did not understand the requisites of space travel. Perhaps the intestine was actually an Important Safety Mask designed to keep one alive in the depths of The Void. It might provide air that was necessary for survival, and only a Childish Numskull would fuss over a simple life support system.
That is the nature of Science—it is often confusing and terrible, but you must pretend you are not troubled or else Science People will call you names.
So I sat there trembling as the intestines swallowed my face. Just before they covered my mouth, I took a deep breath; then I attempted to inhale more air through my nose, which was already sealed over. If I had not been able to breathe, I would have tried to break the seat-straps, no matter how strong they were…but I could inhale without effort despite the guts closed over my nostrils.
It was all very strange indeed—I could feel the stretchy intestines pressed tight against my face, yet when I breathed, there was not the least hindrance to normal air flow. I stuck out my to
ngue to touch the membrane; it felt solid and rubbery, as though it should be impermeable…yet when I blew out hard, I could not feel the tiniest backwash against my face.
In one way, the membrane was impermeable: I could not see. My eyes were open, but all was in blackness. All was silent too—the intestines had plastered themselves tight enough over my ears to muffle outward sound. Gradually, though, I became aware of a vague hum and a small patch of light, only visible with my left eye…a swath of colors like a rainbow. The colors slowly became brighter, but still only in my left eye; and it did not seem to matter whether my eye was open or closed, because I continued to perceive the rainbow even when I shut my eyes tight.
Then my left ear came awake, hearing a pure musical note that began as a whisper and gradually increased to moderate volume. Its tone did not quaver, not even a little bit. The sound continued for ten seconds…then it suddenly split in two, one half rising quickly in pitch while the other half plunged, high up and low down until both notes disappeared.
The rainbow in my left eye vanished almost as soon as the sounds stopped. A moment later, it reappeared in my right eye, brightening quickly this time and soon accompanied by a musical note in my right ear. The sound split to extremes again, the rainbow blinked out…
…and suddenly I could see perfectly, except that I was not inside the Zarett but out on the city street.
Seeing Through New Eyes
Snow still fell through the hole in the roof, accompanied by a distant roar of wind scouring through the mountains overhead. When I turned my neck, I could see in any direction, even far back to the central square—much farther than I had actually been able to see when I was outside the Zarett. My viewpoint was centered at a level considerably higher than the ground; so I peeked down and saw not my own body but Starbiter’s.
This was very odd indeed. I appeared to have become a Zarett. It was most unpleasant to see myself all stringy and awful, but if I was now a spaceship, perhaps there would be entertaining compensations. In a spirit of experiment, I willed myself to roll forward along the street; and I managed to move a quarter rotation before Uclod’s voice cried, “Whoa!”
“Do not address me as if I were a horse,” I told him. “I am now a Zarett.”
“Wrong,” the little man said. His voice came out of nowhere, all around me at once. “Sorry to disappoint you, toots, but you’re not Starbiter—you’re just linked to her nervous system. You can see what she sees, hear what she hears, feel what she feels…”
“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.
5
WHEREIN I BECOME A STAR PILOT
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.”
Ascending Page 5
