Ascending - James Alan Gardner [22]
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