Free Ascending by James Alan Gardner

make—should we fly toward or away from the sun? All other questions of navigation could not be answered: I did not know the way to New Earth, if that was where Uclod intended to go; I did not have any other destination in mind (except to find Festina, and who knew where she might be?); I did not know if the stick-ship could track us, and I could not guess what artful tricks of evasion I might employ to make us harder to pursue. My only meaningful decision was whether to go toward the light, or to flee in some random direction through the blackness.
    I am such a one as enjoys bright sunshine.
    Starbiter seemed perfectly content to change course toward the sun. The moment the idea passed through my head, we started in that direction…and we moved most exceedingly fast, as if falling from a great height into the giant ball of fire. Indeed, we moved faster than the speed of light, thanks to the milky smoke surrounding us. Uclod had called that smoke our FTL field, and Explorers had told me FTL was a scientific effect allowing starships to defy the Laws Of Physics. 3 Law-breaking or not, we reached our goal in less than a second and a half: hovering motionless in space before the sun’s blazing immensity.
    Here is a thing you may not know about suns—they are large and bright. By this I mean that no matter how large and bright you believe suns to be, they are larger and brighter than that. I had certainly expected my planet’s sun to prove impressive, but I had not known how utterly imposing it would be. Perhaps, I thought to myself, Uclod was not entirely wrong, deeming it foolhardy to enter such an inferno.
    Starbiter had chosen to halt when we got sufficiently close, like a horse reluctant to venture too near a fire. I too was beginning to think we had approached to an acceptable distance—near enough to see great curling streamers of flame shooting into the void, and mysterious darknesses drifting across the brighter surface like icebergs on a burning sea—when I caught a flicker of motion out the corner of my eye.
    Materializing beside us, lit by the searing light of the sun, there was the stick-ship again.
    Retreating Starward
    I do not know if I unconsciously gave an order to Star-biter, or if she moved on her own—bolting from something that frightened her. Either way, we took a big hop up and over the sun, as if we were jumping a small rock in the middle of a path.
    Hah! I thought, now find us ; for even if the stick-people had uncanny viewing devices that perceived great distances, I did not believe they could see us straight through the sun. Alas, I was mistaken—almost immediately, the alien craft appeared again and this time directly behind our ship, like a massive brush barrier walling us off from open space, penning us against the sun itself. All around the outer edge, sticks began sprouting outward, growing at a prodigious rate…until the whole alien vessel resembled a hand with hundreds of outstretched fingers, and we were almost cupped in the palm.
    What to do? Starbiter was certainly swift enough to zip around those fingers and out to freedom; but the stick-ship seemed able to track us no matter where we went, and if we headed for open space, could we outrun the alien in a straight contest of speed? I did not know. Even if Starbiter was faster in a short sprint, could she stay ahead of the big ship hour after hour, as we blundered through space in search of safe haven? I did not know that either…but I disliked trusting to luck.
    Back! I ordered. Back into the sun!
    The Zarett retreated reluctantly, halving the distance between us and the roiling ball of fury at our backs. For a split second, the stick-ship fell out of sight…but then it appeared closer than ever, a monstrous hand reaching out to grab us. Back! I ordered. Back all the way! Because I thought to myself, which is more likely to catch fire first: a damp Zarett ball, or a great bundle of sticks? It was simple logic that the stick-folk