"The big news today, of course, is the five-year anniversary of victory," bubbled the enthusiastic breakfast show host. "Stay tuned, later today we'll be bringing you live coverage of the victory events, where Marco Garcia, Cassie Williams and, it's rumoured, even Jake Berenson will be appearing to commemorate their incredible-"

"Oh, fuck OFF!" Carla snarled as she hit the off button, far harder than necessary. She'd turned the TV on through force of habit, not thinking about what she was likely to see and hear today.

Five years. Five Earth years, three point seven Yeerk years… however you thought of it, the passage of time hadn't seemed to lessen Carla's grief. She wanted nothing more than to stay in the apartment, dingy and cramped though it was, for the entire day and pretend the outside world didn't exist, but if she didn't get a new job soon she'd have no apartment to hide in. She'd already emptied every last scrap of food from the cupboards in an effort to save as much money for rent as she could. Lunch yesterday had been canned soup and stale crackers. Dinner had been nothing.

Carla'd tried everywhere she could think of to look for work, but the woman who'd confronted her in McDonald's had seemingly found out her name and taken the trouble to warn as many fast-food restaurants as she could about her. Not that it mattered, really, as without a reference it was near impossible to find work, and Mark had of course refused to give her one.

Carla'd saved a few dollars for the bus fare to the next town, in hope that she'd have better luck there, so she dressed with particular care, before drinking three glasses of water in defence against the gnawing sensation of hunger in the pit of her stomach. It was a sensation she'd felt often in the days before she'd joined the Sharing, but the cider and whisky she'd been drinking so frequently that she may as well have had them on an intravenous drip had numbed it somewhat. She hadn't touched the stuff in seven years. Despite her grief, her loneliness, the pointlessness that her existence now seemed to tend towards, Carla'd never been able to get the first calming drop past her lips. She'd stood in stores staring at the lines of bottles, occasionally picking one up, but she always went and put it back before the checkout. Something in her couldn't stand the thought of how disappointed, how hurt, Silrin would be to see her fall back into her old ways. The fact that her Yeerk had been dead for five years to the day just didn't seem to register with that part of her mind. Which was probably a good thing, she supposed.

The bus was crowded, rattly and hot. Despite the discomfort, there was an aura of joy hanging over just about everyone else there. All Carla seemed to be able to hear were conversations about the victory anniversary celebrations or about how great the Animorphs were. At one point she had to restrain herself from punching a man who she overheard gushing about how wonderful Jake Berenson was. In her eyes, he was nothing more than a mass murderer.

Eventually, the bus drew up at her stop and she stepped down onto the tarmac, already radiating waves of heat despite the early morning hour. Carla began automatically to scan for any businesses that might conceivably take her resume.

It was a long, hot search, trudging wearily from place to place. Most of the time, she was told there was no work. Occasionally someone would show some interest, only to withdraw that interest when they saw she had no references from her last job. Four bloody years at that place and nothing to show for it.

Carla had just about given up when she spotted a small coffee shop, its windows temptingly dressed with cupcakes, cakes and pastries of every shape and hue.

'No harm in trying,' Carla thought, though that was not strictly true. She lived in constant fear of being recognised as a voluntary. She didn't know how the newly nothlit Yeerks were surviving, people must hate them even more than they hated her… though perhaps not. Humans were far from logical creatures.

A small bell tinkled as she entered the shop, and a few customers glanced up at her before returning to their conversations. She walked up to the counter and waited for the woman there to finish making a latte and pass it to a young mother, whose buggy was parked at a table a short distance away.

The woman behind the counter had long, dark hair and olive skin that made her look Hispanic, but her eyes were a deep blue, and wore a surprised, almost startled expression in those first few instants. However, the woman quickly composed her face and smiled warmly at Carla.

"How can I help, honey?" she asked.

"I'm looking for a job," Carla said, trying to sound more positive than she felt. She was a little nervous about the woman's expression on first seeing her, and briefly wondered if she might be a former involuntary, but she did not seem angry now and Carla was pretty sure that if she was angry enough to attack her she'd be able to see some sign of it in the woman's face. Instead she seemed friendly, almost overly so, as though they already knew each other.

"OK," the woman said, smiling gently at her again. "I'm actually the manager here, so that was perfect timing. Just hold on a minute while I get someone to take over."

She called through into the back, and a tall, bearded man emerged, who she asked to watch the counter for a while. Then she beckoned to Carla, who followed her through the small kitchen into a crowded office at the back, containing only one chair.

"Please, sit down." She gestured at the chair, then closed the door and settled herself cross-legged on the floor.

Carla reached into her bag. "Here's my resume," she said. "I've got quite a few years' experience working in food service-" she broke off when she saw the other woman raise a hand.

"Please, hold on a moment. My name is Alniss seven-five-four of the Gurat Hesh pool. And, if I'm not very much mistaken, you're Carla… Silrin six-nine-three's Carla?"

Carla stared in shocked silence for a few moments.

"I was the Hork-Bajir that used to talk to you… well, to Silrin… in the feeding line. Silrin and I synchronised our schedules to try and stay in touch after she was promoted. I don't know if you remember…"

Carla's shock subsided a little, and she began to feel a slight bubbling of relief and joy. She hadn't spoken to a Yeerk in five years. They'd only been given permission to make themselves nothlitsfourteen months ago, and she hadn't tried to contact any, not knowing who or where they were. "No, I remember you, I- it's just that you surprised me."

Alniss nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you alright? Is there anything you need… well, apart from the job, of course, that's a given."

Carla frowned. She knew what Yeerks were like. "Do you actually need someone? Can you afford to employ me?"

"I'll manage somehow. I set this café up, I own it." Alniss gestured dismissively with her hand, ad though the cost of taking on an unnecessary staff member for an indeterminate length of time was as insignificant as ordering a few too many pints of milk.

"You must have taken out a loan," Carla argued. "You have repayments to keep up, you can't just magic up a job out of nowhere." Carla's stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl. Brilliant.

Carla felt a sinking sensation as she saw Alniss' eyebrows raise. Alniss was bound to figure out now how desperate her situation was, and Carla could tell Alniss would never let her leave here without doing something if she knew. Carla didn't want to ruin the Yeerk's business, she must have had a real struggle to get here in the fourteen months she'd had in her new body.

"We've got sandwiches, bagels, soup or baked potatoes, which do you want?"

"I can't pay you," Carla began to protest.

Alniss shifted her position so she was kneeling up, and took one of Carla's hands, running her thumb along the back of her wrist. Her clear blue eyes bored into Carla's brown.

"You gave my sister your senses and your body willingly for two years, and you think you owe me something? Please, I can't let you leave here without at least giving you a decent meal."

Carla nodded, her throat tight. "OK. Soup, then, please."

"Did you go for that because you think it's going to be the cheapest item on the menu?"

Carla gave a rueful smile. "Caught me. A bagel, then, if you're sure-"

Alniss sprung to her feet. "Come on in to the kitchen, you can choose what you want."

Carla followed Alniss through to the kitchen. The Yeerk donned a protective apron and hat and began piling a bagel with such massive portions of cold ham and cheese that Carla felt she'd never manage to fit it into her mouth. Three types of salad were added to the side of the plate before Alniss passed it to her.

"Bring it out to the front, it's much nicer in there," Alniss commanded. "I make fresh orange juice every day if you want some."

Carla'd run out of juice three weeks ago. "That sounds amazing. Thanks."

They emerged from the kitchen behind the counter, and Carla's eyes strayed inadvertently to the cakes standing temptingly in the display cabinet. She could have kicked herself as Alniss followed the direction of her gaze and immediately picked up a plate. "Which? We've got chocolate, carrot, red velvet, caramel or lemon."

"Personally I'd recommend the red velvet," the man from earlier said with a smile.

"That's Tafnik," Alniss muttered into Carla's ear as she cut her what seemed like a quarter of the red velvet cake. "I'll introduce you properly later. Out here I'm Alicia, and he's Nick."

Carla nodded understandingly as she took her plate. "Thank you… thanks, thanks so much, I-"

"You're welcome, now go and eat," Alniss said with a wave of her hand in the direction of one of the tables.

The food was delicious, even allowing for the extra enthusiasm that not eating in over twenty-four hours brought to the meal. Carla ate quickly, soon scraping the plate where the bagel had sat clean and draining the juice before turning to the cake.

"Coffee?" Alniss called from the counter.

Carla nodded. "Thanks."

The red velvet cake more than lived up to Tafnik's recommendation, and despite its size Carla soon found herself scraping up the last few crumbs. Alniss smiled at her as she took the empty plates and placed a pot of coffee on the table.

"Better?"

"Much. Thank you." Carla poured some coffee from the pot into the cup.

"When did you last eat?" Alniss asked concernedly, sliding into the seat opposite her.

Carla glanced around the café, and saw only a couple of customers remained. No wonder: her eyes took in the clock on the wall. Four-thirty.

Alniss followed the direction of her gaze. "We'll close when they leave," she said. "You must have had a long day."

"I dropped my resume off in twenty places. Well, tried to, anyway, most of them gave it straight back."

Alniss frowned. "Why? Surely some of them must have had work, or would at least keep it on file in case…"

"Did you look at it?" Carla asked, smiling slightly in satirical amusement. It had got to the point where it was either laugh or cry, and with a good meal inside her and someone finally, properly listening to her for the first time in years, she was more inclined to laugh.

"I don't need to look at it. I've told you I'll take you."

"You don't have any work to offer me, Alicia. You'll end up destroying your business if-"

Alniss held up a hand, and Carla closed her mouth deferentially.

"Let me make this quite clear. You are not leaving here until I know you're going to be safe and secure, at least financially. Let me worry about the business."

"It's an hour away from where I live," Carla protested, beginning to scrape the barrel for excuses.

"That didn't stop you looking for work here."

"Yeah, well, I literally have about five dollars left and my rent's due next week. At this point I'd go to bloody Mexico if I had to."

Alniss' forehead crinkled and her eyebrows and lips drew down at the corners. "Oh, Carla," she murmured.

Carla felt Alniss take hold of the hand that was resting on the tabletop, and had to fight down the wave of emotion she suddenly felt.

"That still doesn't mean you can help me. You can't just pay another salary from nowhere."

Alniss squeezed her hand. "Come home with us tonight. I'll talk to the others and we… we'll sort something out. We can at least provide you with somewhere to sleep until you can find work."

"Aln- Alicia, no." Carla realised how defiant and ungrateful that sounded, and hastened to modify it. "I- I mean-"

She felt Alniss run her thumb up and down her palm in silent reassurance. "Please. Please let me help you. I don't think you know how much you did for my sister."

"But-"

"I've already given up on just straight-up giving you a job," Alniss countered. "Unless you change your mind, of course. You could at least meet me halfway. Let me make sure you've somewhere to live."

"I shouldn't have told you I only had five dollars," Carla muttered to herself.

Alniss smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"For now," Carla sighed, giving up. Yeerks could be so bloody stubborn… but she couldn't pretend she wasn't happy about it.