Eva
One of the small everyday oddities of being a Controller is that you don't need an alarm clock. You sleep, sure, but Yeerks don't. When it's time to wake up, your Yeerk just prods that part of your brain, and suddenly you're awake. I used to be a coffee addict, but Yeerks don't need any chemical aids to get you fully alert in the morning.
Another one of those little everyday quirks is that you don't get to do your morning routine in privacy. Edriss used to weaponize my insecurities about my body and my dæmon to try to beat me into submission every morning. You gain any more weight and you'll start waddling like Mercurio, she'd sneer at the mirror. It wasn't that she'd actually cared what I looked like – what does one body shape or another matter to a Yeerk? – it was that I cared, and she used that against me.
With Aftran, it was different. It wasn't that my body and its upkeep didn't matter, more that she noticed and felt things about it that were totally different from anything that would have occurred to me. When I brushed my teeth, she thought about how hard and sharp they were compared to the rest of me, like Hork-Bajir blades in miniature. When Mercurio joined me in the shower, as he liked to do, she wondered at how half of me was made for the savanna and half of me made for the sea. To her, I was an intriguing monster, as bizarre and fascinating as an Andalite whipping its tail in the span of an eyeblink.
Mercurio wondered idly, as I put on one of my five identical black suits, how I would present this body of mine, occupied like a hotel by different residents, once the choice was back in my hands.
Ten minutes after my Aftran-alarm, I was clean, clothed, and seated at our computer terminal. Our holo-screen pinged with an automatic reminder. "Meeting with Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine and guests in Conference Room Three," it said in Galard.
Aftran sighed. For the first time this morning, she spoke. «The problem with not killing your subordinates for looking at you funny is that when you get put in charge of the operation, they start doing pesky things like taking initiative and coming to you with ideas.»
It had already happened once. The Sub-Visser in charge of security in the Grash Akdap Pool had called me to discuss her ideas about how to keep the Andalite bandits out, and I'd had no choice but to take her suggestions into account. The Yeerk invasion on Earth was running more smoothly by the day. Garoff had already called me to tell me how pleased he was with my leadership. I felt triumphant and helpless at the same time. Edriss had been many things, but she had always been a great leader, and I ran the show up to her highest standards. I had them all fooled, that was for sure. But everything I did to fool the Empire made the war that much harder for the Guardians of the Galaxy to fight. What kept me riding high were our secret victories. Aftran and I had set a Sub-Visser we knew to be incompetent to oversee the security on a new Yeerk Pool entrance. The next time the Animorphs had to go down there, we would have one way in for them we knew would be safe.
Conference Room Three was made to accommodate all the host bodies of the Empire. The Controllers who had come to meet me, though, we were all Hork-Bajir-Controllers, sitting in large chairs with room for their tails. Some of them were Blue Bands from my ship, while some had clearly docked here from other ships in the fleet. Sub-Visser 201 had a large box in her lap. «What does it all mean?» Aftran said.
«Something going on with the Hork-Bajir hosts,» I thought. «Or a new battle strategy for Hork-Bajir-Controllers? I have no idea what these subordinates are going to come to me about anymore.» Everyone stood to acknowledge me as I came in. I sat on a human-shaped chair near the door, Mercurio at eye level beside me, as if I were ready to leave at any moment if I grew impatient with the proceedings. "You're the one who called this meeting, Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine," I told her coolly. "State your business."
"Yes, Visser One," Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine said. Knowing me and Aftran well – or maybe knowing Visser One well, at this point it could be unnervingly difficult to tell the difference – she skipped any obsequious congratulations over our recent promotion. "My associates have noticed something important about our hosts. We have compared notes extensively, and tested our hypotheses. We believe we have discovered something of tactical significance."
I raised my eyebrows. "Well, what is it?"
"It would be best if we showed you," Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine said. She gestured to Sub-Visser 201, who brought her box to the table at the center of the conference room and took out a dozen clear containers. They were all full of Pool sludge, judging by the way they sloshed, but instead of its normal translucence, the sludge had all been dyed an opaque black. "One of these containers has a live Yeerk inside. If you would indulge me, Visser One, allow us all to leave the room while you place these containers in a line, in an order of your choosing. When we return, we will all individually write down on our datapads which one contains the Yeerk. You will find that we are all in agreement."
"What is this, some game Hork-Bajir play to entertain their children?" I sneered, buying time for Aftran and I to catch up with what Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine was getting at. "I wouldn't have found this amusing even as a grub in my first Gedd."
"It's no game, Visser One," Sub-Visser 201 said, with disgusting earnestness. "This is of great import to the war effort."
I gestured for the Hork-Bajir-Controllers to leave. When they were gone, and I started switching around the containers, trying desperately to understand, Aftran cried, «By the Kandrona! Eva, do you know what this means!»
«You mean…» A bunch of stray remarks came together in my mind as I switched the jars around like a street performer with coconut shells. «These Hork-Bajir-Controllers have figured out their hrala-sight isn't just a visual defect. That they can use it to detect hrala-producing beings.»
«Like "Andalite bandits" in morph!» Aftran said. If I hadn't been at the steering wheel of my body she would have had me trembling all over.
«Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw,» Mercurio said, with feeling.
«This is our fault,» Aftran moaned. «You become a leader of an invasion who doesn't chop underlings' heads off when they disagree with you, and look what happens!»
«I'll stall them for as long as I can,» I promised, «but it won't be for long. We need to get word to the Animorphs.»
The Hork-Bajir-Controllers came back in. They inspected the containers and wrote on their datapads. Sure enough, when they held them up, they all indicated the same container. I let Aftran open it and stick her hand in, as she would be less disgusted by the sensation of a Yeerk in her hand. She held it up and raised her eyebrows. "Explain."
Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine said, "Visser, we are all experienced Hork-Bajir-Controllers. I myself have had Hork-Bajir hosts for fifteen generations. We have consulted on certain observations we have made over this time. We believe the so-called 'visual defect' of the Hork-Bajir is no defect at all. They perceive thinking beings differently from non-thinking ones. It takes practice to be able to tell the difference, but all of us in this room have trained ourselves to do it. That is how we chose the right container; through close inspection we could see that it contained a thinking being." She flashed a toothy grin. "Which means we can use this ability to detect Andalites in morph."
My turn. I put the Yeerk back in the container and raised my eyebrows. "Very exciting, if you can prove it's practical." I swiveled in my chair a little to look at the lower-ranking Controllers and added, as if in a casual aside, "This is, after all, the Sub-Visser who thought we might increase efficiency by adding herbs from the Hork-Bajir homeworld to the dried bark feed." I swiveled back. "Train twenty more Hork-Bajir-Controllers in your method, and give me a new demonstration in seven rane. This time, put Yeerks in viable non-thinking hosts along with some uninfested hosts, and show me you can consistently tell them apart." I didn't know if seven rane was enough time to train up twenty more Hork-Bajir-Controllers, and I didn't care. Either they'd do it to impress the Visser, or they wouldn't, and I'd have an excuse to stall this nightmare for longer. "Dismissed."
If Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine had expected me to promote her on the spot for her innovations, she had been disappointed. We all left the conference room, and I checked the time on my datapad. «Four more hours until we have a gap in our schedule,» Aftran said. «Then we can send word. They have at least three weeks before this becomes a serious problem. The Animorphs will think of something.»
«Not yet, though,» I said grimly. «There's a meeting with Sub-Visser Thirty-Five in Conference Room Two in ten minutes. And I haven't had breakfast yet.»
Human food was a dismal prospect in the Yeerk fleet. Voluntary hosts Earthside got a nice cafeteria. But nothing remotely fresh made it to orbit. I sometimes wondered how I wasn't dead of scurvy after years of eating little but military rations from bags labeled BEEF LUNCH. The only breakfast available was peanut butter on a barely-defrosted English muffin. My underlings avoided me in the mess hall, the other human-Controllers with their sad peanut butter sandwiches and the Hork-Bajir-Controllers with their freeze-dried bark. Come to think of it, Mercurio said, the food for Hork-Bajir up here might be worse.
«When I was a Hork-Bajir-Controller, I served as a guard on the Blade Ship,» Aftran said. «Trust me, it is worse.»
«Not as bad as when you have to feed, though,» I said grimly. Even though I was kept in a cage the whole time, I could admit it was worse for her than for me. I got a precious hour or two alone in my body to pray. Aftran had to morph Edriss, fend off suck-ups trying to toady up to her in the Pool, and find some privacy so she could demorph and feed in her own body. She was always on the bleeding edge of starvation.
I washed my dry breakfast down with lukewarm water and went to Conference Room Two. Sub-Visser Thirty-Five was another human-Controller, an elegant older woman, so we met in a smaller room without Hork-Bajir and Taxxon accommodations. She was the head of Casualties, keeping track of hosts who became sick, injured, or dead, and dispensing treatments and reassignments accordingly. Meetings with her were never pleasant, and she'd become especially troublesome since I'd redefined what counted as a useful host. Like all bureaucrats, Sub-Visser Thirty-Five resisted change.
She was waiting for me with a holographic projector already set up, her bat dæmon's ears pricking up as I came in. "May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you, Visser One," she said, a greeting that always amused me, since Visser One was far beyond the power of the Kandrona to strengthen. I inclined my head and sat across from the Sub-Visser.
She began, "I take it you have read my complaints – "
"My digital assistant summarized them for me, yes," I said dismissively. It was the Empire equivalent of "my secretary made a note of it," back in my political campaign days. "The meeting isn't about the new host policies, according to your slot in my very busy schedule, so stop wasting my time."
"Of course, Visser One." With a flick of her hand, Sub-Visser Thirty-Five summoned up an image from her holographic projector showing trends in host casualties on Earth over time. It was a familiar figure, with its clear uptick after the GalaxyTree crashed, Elfangor died, and the Animorphs became active. Every one of those casualties represented money drained from the Empire's coffers. Aftran and I kept a close eye on those numbers, waiting for the day when the cost was too great for the Council of Thirteen to continue this war.
"I'm sure you are aware of certain, ah, rumors and theories about the Andalite bandits," Sub-Visser Thirty-Five said. "I decided to test one of these ideas using data from my department." She flicked her wrist, and a new graphic came up. It was host casualties on Earth over time, broken down by species, standardized by number of hosts in each species, filtered down to violent injuries and deaths caused by enemy combatants.
My spit turned to acid in my mouth, and my pulse thudded so hard in my throat I wondered if the Sub-Visser could see my jugular jump against my skin. It was a familiar figure. Edriss had put it together herself. It hadn't been easy to put together – the data were horribly disorganized, and if you didn't control for human hosts in the military and the criminal element the numbers got skewed – but once you did, the picture was clear.
"Since the Andalite bandits landed on earth, the number of deaths in combat have gone up," Sub-Visser Thirty-Five explained, unnecessarily. "But here I've color-coded these curves by host species, and if you look at the pink, you'll see that the human deaths in combat have actually declined while those of Hork-Bajir and Taxxons have risen enormously." She waved her hand again, and the graph shifted. "This is combat injuries. Those have increased in humans, but only slightly, while again in Hork-Bajir and Taxxons they have sharply increased." The next holo-image showed statistical results. "I ran regressions on the data to verify and the differences come out significant." She raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for my reaction.
I said nothing, just leaned back in my seat and gestured for the Sub-Visser to go on. Inside my head Aftran was going «Fuck fuck fuck FUCK! Eva, how are you doing this? Your mind is so – it's like you've just drained out your – »
Sub-Visser Thirty-Five cleared her throat, a little nervously. It was always safer to let a Visser draw their own conclusions than to have to present your own for appraisal. "Now, the question this raises for me is: why would the Andalite bandits care about sparing humans more than any other species? We all know that Andalites do not view any species as remarkable besides their own. Certainly they have no reason to feel particularly daunted by the prospect of defeating a human in battle." She paused again, waiting for me to fill in. When I didn't, she licked her lips and said, "Many questions still remain about the day Beast Elfangor was defeated. We know from Visser Five's various failed attempts to acquire an Escafil Device that there is one on Earth."
«Okay. Okay, you're scaring me, Eva, but we'll deal with that later. There's no bullshitting our way out of this, is there?» Aftran said. «That evidence has got us in a corner. If we try to deflect this, it will be seen as evidence of covert human sympathy, which is already a persistent rumor surrounding Visser One.» We often spoke about Visser One like another living person, a persona we constructed together. When she sensed my reluctant agreement, she said aloud, "You're suggesting that some, or even most, of the so-called Andalite bandits are human, which is why they spare human-Controllers in combat."
Sub-Visser Thirty-Five's bat dæmon's ears swiveled toward me. "You agree," he said, his eyes alight.
"It has occurred to me as a possibility after the bandits used the Escafil Device on that human boy. It seemed like an unusual choice for a band of Andalite guerrilla warriors. But I never had the data to back up my speculations until now," I said. Flattery would get you everywhere in the Empire. "Now I wonder if the bandits ever infiltrated the Pool in their own human forms. We could go through camera footage and cross-reference it against personnel files of our human-Controllers." With the amount of video taken on various cameras around the Pool, that task would be very time-consuming – and give the Animorphs more time to figure out their response.
"If I may, Visser," Sub-Visser Thirty-Five said, "I think I may have a more efficient solution. My medics in Casualties have collected blood from hosts immediately after combat and found human DNA samples that did not match any human-Controllers on file. Many of these cases will simply be contamination from the scene, of course, but blood the bandits spill in combat is an untapped resource we can use to track them down. I've already collected some blood from Hork-Bajir blades in anticipation of this meeting. All I need is funding. Put a few of our people in blood banks and hospitals around Santa Barbara, and we can search for a match, or a partial match with relatives."
I eyed Sub-Visser Thirty-Five. «She's going to be promoted to Visser for this, and she knows it,» Aftran said.
«And there's not a thing we can do about it,» I thought. «The expense is so small and the possible reward so great – the Council would have my head if I didn't do this. God, I should have been an Esplin. No one would have dared come to him with something like this. She might have been sitting on this for months, a year even. She came well-prepared enough that I think she must have.»
«Only one thing to do,» Aftran said. «Warn the Animorphs. They'll have to evacuate to the Hork-Bajir valley.»
«With their families,» I thought. «The partial matches – »
«Oh, sweet Virgin Mary, Peter,» Mercurio said.
I kept my face stone and said, "Granted. I'll instruct the Sharing to target hospital administrators, by force if necessary. You can assign appropriately trained biologists to the hosts. I'll send you the host assignments as soon as it's done."
Sub-Visser Thirty-Five's eyes burned with fanatic light. She clenched her fist. "We'll show Visser Five. Years in charge, and he never captured the bandits. Under your leadership, we'll have them inside of a month!"
Resentment of Visser Five. An interesting motive, more common than I had guessed before Aftran and I had been promoted, and Yeerks could express it openly. But there was no time for that. "I'm putting this at top priority. I'll go send the order at my terminal now. You are dismissed."
I walked as briskly to my quarters as Mercurio's legs would allow. I canceled my next meeting. I dictated orders to my terminal for the Sharing and the budget office. The heat rose in my face as I engaged the cryptographic protocols for my message to Bachu. «Stop,» Aftran said. Not forcing me to stop, as she might have, just saying, «Eva, please, stop.»
"What is it?" Mercurio snapped.
«You can't put off your feelings forever. You need to work out what's in your head right now, or you'll shout this message instead of saying it,» Aftran said. «Either calm yourself down or I'll do it for you.»
I hated when Aftran tapped into my amygdala or whatever else she did to bring down my blood pressure and ease my breath when I got like this. Mercurio and I preferred to just get each other through it. But there was no time for that. "Do it," Mercurio ordered.
I wrapped an arm around Mercurio for support as the tension fled out of me, leaving me limp and exhausted with fear. I could have crawled back to bed and fallen right back to sleep; I had never been a morning person before Edriss forced me to be one. I gathered myself in my seat and gave the command. "Record."
Switching to Spanish, I said, "Alert. Alert. Urgent. The resistance is about to be exposed. I repeat, you are burned. A subordinate came to me with evidence that you're human. It is such compelling evidence I can't stall her without exposing myself, especially because Marco is my son – they'll call me a host sympathizer. By the time you get this message, there will be almost no time. Get your families to safety, get yourselves to safety, and don't appear in public as yourselves.
I won't tell you what decisions to make, but I will tell you that Peter is in the most danger, because of his connection to me. If you play him this message, he'll come with you without a fuss." Then I switched to my third language, Mandarin, that I'd learned for his sake. My accent was much better now that Edriss had used the language to charm poor dupes into the Sharing instead of just gossiping with the staff of the Szechuan place around the corner. "Peter, Mirazai, it's me, Eva. I'm alive. I didn't mean to cause you so much pain, and I am so sorry. But there's one more thing I need to ask you to do. Trust Marco, and do whatever he tells you to do. Do you remember that night when I told you to stay away from the military, because if you did, they would come for you? I know you did what I asked. But they're coming for you anyway. Go with Marco. Be safe. Hold your wife close. I love you."
Tom
This is my third time trying to journal, like Luis says I should do. He says it'll help with my fine motor and emotional development. I kind of hate reliving all my fuck-ups. They look even worse when I write it all down and I see how I could have done it differently. Not to mention my handwriting looks like a six-year-old's these days. But I'm terrified right now, and the Hork-Bajir and the Chee won't really get it, so it's either write it down or ride this awful energy all the way to something really stupid.
I was having a shitty day. When I got up, Dela told me what if I died and I didn't have to do my laundry in the creek today. I told her if being a Controller wasn't a good enough reason to kill myself, then having to do wilderness laundry definitely wasn't. I waited for Luis to come and help me with the laundry, like a damn kid. He has to help me position my arms and stuff so I can soap up and rinse my clothes, and even then I can only do a few shirts myself because it takes me so long. When he set me up with my soap and my three shirts, he went down the creek to speed-clean the rest with his stupid robot arms. I scrubbed my clothes while singing Celine Dion so loudly that Dela knew I wouldn't be able to hear anything she said.
Then I got breakfast from the kitchen after everyone else, like I usually do, so I don't have to talk to the voluntaries. Ruby was there too. She waits for me, even though it takes me twice as long to eat breakfast as she does, because the food falls off my spoon sometimes. Keowe tried to fly over and land on Dela's nose, but she flinched away from it. I'm never going to do anything about my stupid crush on Ruby, and it pisses me off. The Yeerks did enough to me without turning me into a perma-virgin.
Aximili came to visit, which made things better for a little while. Ever since I told him I was interested in Andalites, he comes over sometimes to teach me things about them. I wonder how much the other Animorphs ever ask him about that. He always seems so eager, like he hasn't had the chance to talk about this stuff in ages. Today he taught me about different kinds of Andalite spaceships, making little models out of twigs. He told me stories about battles against the Yeerks that each of the types of ships were involved in. He even told me about battles the Yeerks won. I liked that. He doesn't seem to think it's any less honorable to lose a battle.
I held onto Dela for a long while to keep her calm enough not to say any more creepy shit. Then I got up the courage to ask Aximili, "What do Andalites do with people like me?"
He said, «There are no humans on our planet.»
When he says things like that, I never know if he's playing dumb to stall me, playing dumb so I'll underestimate him, or actually doesn't know what I'm talking about. I rolled my eyes and said, "That's not what I meant. I mean people who are screwed up. Like me." I stuck my hands out in front of me, showing how they shook a little when I tried to hold them flat and still.
Aximili paused for a long while. «You would not consider it kind, or proper, what we do with our cripples.» He paused again. «No, Loren would tell me not to use that word. Disabled. That is the word.»
"Just tell me. I can take it," I said, even though I wasn't sure I could.
«They are recluses,» Aximili said. «They keep minimal contact with the outside world, to maintain their dignity. So they do not have to bear the pity of others.»
"So like me in this valley, then."
Aximili shifted his weight from side to side. I couldn't be sure what his body language meant. «Very like.»
"You're right," I said. "It isn't kind. It sucks. But I guess you're right that people would pity me if I were out there in the world. That would suck too." I thought about it. "What about people who are just screwed up in the head? Like me, but without the…" I flapped my hands to show what I meant.
«Everyone's spirit is affected by war,» Aximili said. «Some more so than others. That does not mean you are "screwed up in the head."»
"Andalites have a better attitude about that than humans, then," I said. "Luis says that, but most humans don't."
«All Andalite warriors have regular sessions with mind-body ritualists. Some need more than the regular sessions. I showed you a ritual, last time I was here. Mind-body ritualists work with their students to create rituals that will help align mind, body, and spirit.»
"Sounds nice," I said. "The Hork-Bajir do something like that. Elgat Kar and her hrala healing for the new-frees. I guess you could call that ritual." I remembered my old rabbi, back before the Sharing, when I still went to temple. "My people, too. Jews. We have prayers for everything. Waking up. Going to sleep. Going to the bathroom, even. None for going crazy, though, as far as I know."
«Perhaps there ought to be,» Aximili said. He is so weird sometimes. I can never tell whether he's joking or not. Marco must find it really frustrating. When I told him so, he said, «Marco knows I do not use human humor.»
I groaned. "See! You did it again! I don't know whether that was a joke or not!"
Right around then our conversation got interrupted by the big crashing rustle of a creche class swinging in through the trees. I've been trying to learn Hork-Bajir language, or the Controller version of it, which is a mix of Galard, the Taxxon-adapted version of Galard, English, and the Hork-Bajir's own words. So Kam Jedet poked his head down and said in his own language, "Naj tell Kam that Tom teach Naj's creche how to make fire. Tom teach Kam's creche?" Their language doesn't have pronouns, and they kind of imply past tense using word order, which explains a lot about why they sound weird in English. I feel really embarrassed for thinking they didn't understand what the past was, before.
I explained to Aximili what Kam had said, and he said, «I know. I have a translation chip implanted in my brain.» Of course he did. Then he bent his eye stalks at me kind of funny and said, «You do not, however. You learned the language yourself.»
I laughed. "Only some. And they've been helping me a lot. Is it cool if I take some time to help them?"
«I would like to see how humans make fire without a tail blade,» Aximili said.
"Come down!" I called up to Kam in his language.
The creche dropped down from the trees, the little ones already sticking the landing. This time, none of them tried to touch Delareyne. That had been really awful. I know they didn't know what they were doing, but both times a teacher had to stand between her and the kids, just as much to stop her as to stop them.
I taught the kids how to make fire with a drill, explaining it to them step by step. I couldn't demonstrate for them, but they were naturals, since they could cut the drill, the tinder, and the fire plate with their blades. Kam turned it into a little lesson about fire safety in the woods, and the kids thanked me in a high-pitched chorus. They were sweet kids. Sweeter than any group of human kids I'd ever had to look after. I smiled up at them as they went.
When they were gone, Aximili said, «The Andalite method is more efficient, but that was interesting to watch,» because he is a little shit. Then he surprised me by saying, «It is kind of you to teach the children.»
I told him I like kids. I guess I always thought I'd have at least three, one day. Not so much anymore. I couldn't live with being afraid I'd lose it and hurt them, now that I know I can lose control of myself like that. I didn't say any of that. I don't know what I said, because it all faded next to what happened next.
Luis ran toward us, faster than I'd ever seen him move, and skidded to a stop. "Aximili, you need to go to Bachu's house, right now. She just got word from Eva and Aftran. The other Animorphs are exposed. The Yeerks suspect they're human. They need to evacuate their families here, now."
I fell to my knees and clutched Dela to my chest. I don't know if it was because I needed the comfort, or because I was afraid of what she would do if I didn't. I started to lose it. I screamed. Dela bit me to make me stop. Luis told her she didn't have to do that and I could breathe with him instead. So I did that for a while, but it was so hard. I thought it would be so much easier if Dela just kicked until I had no more breath to scream. I was still crying and itching like I was supposed to do something or get hurt, whichever one came first.
Zefirita walked up to Dela, ears laid flat to her head, and said, "I have to ask you to do a hard thing. I need you to record a voice message for another Chee to play back to your family. You have to convince them you're alive and safe, that it's really you speaking. It'll be much easier to get them to come quickly if you do that. Can you do that for them?"
I put Dela down and considered. What was something I could say that only my parents and I would know about?
"Say something in Hebrew," Dela said.
"I don't actually speak Hebrew, stupid," I said. "Just enough from Hebrew school to say the prayers and stuff – oh shit. Jake was too young for Hebrew school when we were first learning to how to pronounce Hebrew words. Do you remember – "
"That you picked Simcha as your Hebrew name and you kept pronouncing it Sim-chuh –"
I smiled and tasted my snot and tears running into my mouth. Yeah, that was right. And then Dad embarrassed me for years by calling me Sim-chuh in front of the other kids at Hebrew school. Yeah. I had it.
"Hey Mom and Dad," I said. I stopped to sniffle and wipe my face. "It's me, Tom. I know it's fucked up that I faked my death, but I'm alive and safe." I paused. How could I begin to explain what had happened to me? "The Sharing isn't what it looks like. It's evil. I had to hide from them, and now you have to come hide here too. We'll be together again soon. Listen to Jake. None of this is his fault. I love you. This is Sim-chuh, signing off."
Now it's just a waiting game. I feel completely fucking helpless. Luis told me to journal about it and went off to tell Toby there'd be new guests in the valley. I guess this is better than talking to him about it. He knows a lot about what war does to people's heads. But he doesn't know what it's like to have a family, and to be scared they might die or worse, and not be able to do anything about it. That's been my life for years. I'm not a Controller anymore, but that part hasn't changed. The powerlessness. Being stuck while everything I love is on the line. I would do anything to have the power to change it.
When Jake comes back. When my parents are safe. I'll ask him. He has the blue box. He can fix this. He can make it so I can fight.