Again, readers in September of 2009, sorry about the delay.

To the rest of you who did not notice a delay...disregard the previous message.


CHAPTER 16

The pistol fire was massively loud in the cavern of the security center. The Operative had emptied two cylinders already and was working on his third, ((Damn, those things are hard to kill, only four of them have gone down.))

The two lines made contact as I ran to the computer core of the base. The battle was raging on around me as I did my work to cut out the memory core. As my tailblade ran through plastic and metal, my stalk eyes swiveled around to see if there were any threats coming my way.

I caught sight of one Kelbrid running at me. I stabbed him in the snout with my tail blade and severed his sensory whiskers. Melissa bit out its throat to make sure it did not come after us again. Another came charging out of the crowd and I caught him in the leg with a backswing. Once it was down, I put my tail into the computer while Melissa clawed it to death.

I turned my eyes to the big fight going on at the entrance of the security room. Prince Jake was engaged with two Kelbrid, a particularly dangerous task to take. ((Melissa, I can defend myself. Prince Jake needs help.))

She did not bother to respond. She just rushed to help Prince Jake.

Marco and Jeanne were running around everywhere, whipping their tails into their two Kelbrid in a game of tag-and-get-killed, trying to whip the Kelbrid while at the same time evading the deadly stingers. But then my eye caught site of the Operative, and would not be drawn away.

The Operative, a human Soldier of Fortune, was fighting the Yeerks most lethal warrior, Guraff 427. For this close-quarters combat, the Operative had thrown down his revolver and replaced it with his sword and a throwing axe. Guraff was more than happy to meet this daring combatant with his own Kelbrid stinger and deadly blades.

They met each other. Guraff swung the stinger at the Operative's head. He ducked and caught the blade with his hornblades and twisted his head to make it stuck. He struck with his sword, but Guraff blocked that with his kneeblades. Guraff yanked out the stinger and stepped back a step. I was amazed. Usually Guraff would just run over somebody. He did that to me, once. Carl must have been one of Tri-I's best men, to stand up to him so.

They sized each other up for just a split second and charged each other again. The Operative threw his axe straight at Guraff's chest, but Guraff parried with his stinger. While Guraff parried, Carl brought in his sword straight for the gut. Guraff punched with his left fist, parrying the thrust. Guraff then brought up his kneeblades to gut Carl, but Carl kicked Guraff's leg aside, leaving him to prop himself up by his tail. Guraff slashed again with his stinger, but Carl parried with his sword. Carl stepped in, trying to land a punch to face, but Guraff jerked his head to the side. They were entangled with each other, now. If they hadn't been trying to kill each other, it might look as if they were hugging.

I thought perhaps I could distract Guraff and give Carl a bit of an edge. ((Guraff? Rachel sends her greetings.))

Guraff did not seem in the least bit distracted, though he replied. "That is courteous of her. Tell her and the Devil Prince that I am sorry to have missed our most recent engagement. And compliment him and Aristh Alloran on their victory over Kalroth's Apostates. It is no simple feat."

Then they both stopped. I could just barely hear them over the sounds of the fight. Guraff asked, "What is your name, my worthy adversary?"

"Operative Carl Yastrzemski. They call me the fighting Polack," was the Operative's response.

"Mine is Undervisser Guraff 427. I have been called the God General."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, God General."

And they continued with the contest. They disengaged again, and charged again. But instead of going straight in, Carl sidestepped a little and threw another ax, which buried itself in Guraff's head. Ever the professional soldier, Guraff just stepped back, pulled it out, and returned the favor. Carl pulled it out of his own head and held it in his hand as he charged.

I redirected my attention from the fighting to my work. By looking at the computer core, I could tell that it was out of date when the First War ended. I recognized the type because I had been trained in its use at the Academy, so I knew exactly what part I wanted. I suppose that the Yeerks had been using it because of a lack of supplies. Or perhaps this had been built by Mersa, or before the Yeerks had access to Pythagi technology. Pythagi communiqués would be easier to come by than materials that had to be physically moved from place to place, like software and intelligence.

Once I had removed the piece of the computer I wanted, I went one step further. I activated the code to initiate the computer's manual self-destruct. There was no magnificent explosion, just a sizzling sound as the computer destroyed all of its valuable and classified parts. As soon as the computer was fried, I ran back to help my friends. My eye watched as Guraff and Carl, both cut to pieces, disengaged for the last time.

Guraff saw that there were only two Kelbrid left fighting. He couldn't win this one. Not wounded as he was, at least. "Pull back, my soldiers. They have come and got what they wanted. To die now would be a waste." Then he turned to Carl and raised his sword, "I salute you Carl the Fighting Polack. You are one of the few who can be called my worthy foe."

Carl raised his own blade in salute, "I salute you Guraff the God General. You are one of the few targets of mine that survived my onslaught."

All forces had disengaged by now. It was time to get out. The Omegamorphs, Carl and I leapt into the hole and melted away into the darkness.

CHAPTER 17

Everyone demorphed to repair their wounds. Fortunately, because the others had been busy protecting me, I was not wounded. A rare occurrence in any Animorphs mission. We stumbled over the strewn rubble of the hallway with the Operative leading the way so he could defuse the claymore he had left.

We walked along silent in the darkness, ((Operative Yahtzee, where is the entrance that you made?))

The Tri-I Operative turned the Claymore around to point behind us in case we were followed, ((I made a tunnel through the main debris pit to get down here. It is located on the north side of the cavern where I found you but close to the wall where the hallways are, sir.))

((Prince Jake, with your permission, I will lead the group to a place where we can blast through again and escape through the Operative's tunnel.))

"Go for it Ax. You know the complex better than I do," he said to me. To the others he said, "When we get there, we'll morph to bat and go through the tunnel. That's the quickest way to the top."

"Jake?" Melissa spoke up, "I don't have a bat morph."

"Neither do I," Carl added. "Morph to panther and I'll morph to Hork. I'll cover you and carry the memory core."

I handed him the six by six cube and he stuck it in his web gear.

We reached the point where the tunnel went under the cavern where we had fought the Apostates. By this time we had the drill down pat. We all morphed as the Operative planted the last of his shaped charges. The blast blew a small hole in the ceiling and Marco, Prince Jake, Jeanne, and I flew through the dust cloud. We used our echolocation to locate the hole that the Operative had told us of and flew up.

The tunnel was pitch black, but that did not matter at all to us. We sailed through with no danger of colliding into the walls. Jagged cement was all around us. If we touched the walls, our fragile bat bodies would have been ripped to shreds. Prince Jake shot through the tunnel into the work area, then Marco, then Jeanne, and I came up last. We could see the underside of the Triumph. I shot another burst of echolocation, ((That is strange, there is nobody working the fill.))

There were many walkways above the rubble, all suspended by iron rods attached to the ceiling. They supported the cranes that worked moving the debris around ensuring that they would fit in as much as possible. There were some roadways of crushed concrete for the bulldozers and dump trucks that would deposit the debris in the hole. All of the roadways led to the large cargo shaft, where trucks from above would dump their debris to be picked up by the dozers and dump trucks. There were several escape ladders that led to surface. They were well placed, it was impossible to stand more than 100 meters from a stairway if one was on either a walkway or a road. None of the dozers were moving, nor any of the cranes, though I could hear their engines working.

((Yeah, did they take a coffee break or something?)) Marco asked.

((This is a twenty-four hour operation,)) Prince Jake pointed out, ((They would not have abandoned it unless there was an emergency.))

((I don't smell smoke or anything,)) Jeanne said worriedly.

((Ax? Would you like to volunteer to investigate?))

((Yes, my Prince,))

((Don't call me 'Prince,'))

((Yes, my Prince,)) I flew off in the direction the cranes and bulldozers. I shot off bursts of echolocation, but I never did locate any humans. I shot a burst to the top of a ladder, and then to the top of three more ladders. The result was the same, all of the escape doors were open and I could hear faint noises from above them.

((Prince Jake,)) I yelled down, ((I believe that all of the humans have evacuated. All of the escape doors are open, and I have yet to detect a human.))

((Ax, head up the ladders. Go see what's topside.))

((Yes my Prince.))

I flew up to one of the doors. The noises were getting louder. There was a lot of banging, smacking, crushing, and yelling at the top. I was perplexed. I flew through the door into the daylight. I gazed at the scene in horror. There was a riot of people desecrating the Triumph! I watched as people with ropes tore down statues of Prince Elfangor, Captain Nerefir, Dak Hammee, and other non humans. Then I saw the banners they carried and understood; they were members of the Isolationist Party. Despite the blow that the Alphamorphs had recently dealt them, it was not a dead idea. Nothing is a dead idea when there are a few die-hard humans behind it.

I flew back down the hole and met with my Prince and the others who had demorphed on a walkway by this time, ((There is a violent human demonstration occurring above us at the moment. They are being led by the Isolationist Party. They are destroying all of statues of aliens that contributed to the defeat of the Yeerks.))

Prince Jake was just as confused as I was, "Why would they be doing that?" Nobody had any answers.
Operative Yahtzee and Melissa appeared at the entrance of their tunnel far below the walkway. They walked up one of the roads to the cargo shaft as they demorphed. The Operative demorphed into a set of Marine Corps Dress Blues. I demorphed flew over and demorphed while Prince Jake, Jeanne, and Marco walked to meet them.

"Where is everybody?" the Operative asked.

"Evacuated Mr. Yahtzee," Marco answered, "There's a riot going on above us up on the Triumph."
The Operative understood exactly what was going on, "I had a van up here waiting for me, sirs. The Yeerks must have something to do with this. They would not want a Tri-I Operative to report back to HQ after seeing what I've seen."

I realized now why Guraff had just let us go. It did not seem like him in the least. Even with all of us standing before him, and with his own wounds, he was not the type to simply walk away. He could have called for reinforcements or weapons. Now I understood why he did not fight to the death below. It was because he did not have to. Even if we fled, we were trapped.

"Then why don't they have people come down here and attack us?" Melissa pointed out, "They could do that easy while we were coming up. And they would have perfect cover to do it too, with a riot going on."
"They would send in only their own people, most likely," the Operative said, "Which might not be too good if the police make their sweep while the Controllers are busy down here trying to kill us. They'd be trapped, arrested, and sent to jail where they do not serve Kandrona in the chow hall. They must have something waiting for us for when we come up. But first, they must have something to smoke us out to make sure the plan works. And if it doesn't, their new hosts will be following us up the tunnel before long."
Canisters suddenly tumbled through the doorways and the cargo shaft with echoing clanking. They were emitting a white smoke. Tear gas.

"There we go, the police are responding, so Yeerks pick up and throw the tear gas canisters down the holes," The Operative stopped for a few seconds to attach his gas mask, "The non Controllers see it and do the same, simple monkey-see monkey-do. Well, let's get going. For your own good, sir, I'll be the first to stick my head out."

I morphed human as we ran up the stairs. It would not be good for an Andalite to appear in the middle of an Isolationist riot. The gas swirled around my mutating feet, but some managed to enter my nose and newly formed mouth. I spun around and threw up over the railing so forcefully I nearly fell over the edge. Marco caught me just in time, "Thanks."

"No problem Ax. I just don't think it's a good idea to go base jumping without a parachute."
It seemed like a long time with the gases making us all hack and cough, but we eventually made it to the top. True to his word, Operative Yahtzee stuck his head out first. He scanned the violence of the Triumph. Evidently, he did not detect any threats directed specifically at us. He pulled his head back in, "I don't see anything out of the ordinary for a riot. We're just going to have to make a break for it, I guess. Where do you want to go, sirs?"

((We operate from Rachel's mother's house,)) I informed him through thought speak because I couldn't talk with my mouth, ((That is where we intend to go.))

"Okay then sirs, we'll run out, I'll commandeer a vehicle and then we can all head to your base. I'm going first. Ready?"

I was choking on the tear gas fumes. I didn't know if I could even walk straight, but I was surely ready to leave.

Operative Yahtzee ran out the door into the riot, followed closely by the rest of us. We weren't bothered by the rioters, because we were humans. Then I heard the crack of high powered rifles. The yelling and jeering suddenly turned to screaming as the whole crowd ran for their lives through the maze of toppled statues and burning cars.

"Snipers on the rooftops!" the Operative yelled, "I see one." He took aim with his Shredder and fired at something in the distance. A body fell two stories off of a strip mall. Then Carl spun and hurled an ax through a doorway. I heard something fall on the other side.

The shooting didn't stop. Where were they? I ran as fast as I could. That happened to be very fast. When I did some research later, I learned that the human body can accelerate faster than a horse when in a survival situation.

A bullet ripped through my pelvis. I fell as if I never had legs to stand on. There was nothing I could do, "Help!" I called weakly. Strength had abandoned my voice. I heard another bullet ricochet off the pavement near my head.

"I got him!" the Operative came back, slung me over his shoulders, and carried me as if I did not exist. That is how much my weight affected him. Another bullet grazed his back just below my position on his shoulders. I saw the Operative's face grimace with pain, but he kept going.

"This van!" The Operative indicated a white business van with his head. It was the only vehicle that hadn't been torched by the rioters. He opened up the back door and threw me in. Everybody else jumped in the side doors. Jeanne found the keys were still in the ignition and hopped into the driver's seat. She didn't even wait for the doors to be completely closed, Jeanne floored the van and we were on our way home.
Prince Jake was bleeding profusely from an arm wound. I demorphed to heal my own. The shooting stopped. The snipers must have been making their escape before the police forces swept their positions.
I took the core out of the Operative's web gear and held it in front of my face, ((This had better be worth it.))

CHAPTER 18

We were finally home. I knew that Alloran would need access to the computer core, so I hooked it up to the wall phone. When a connection was made to Tobias' home, Alloran would have free reign to hack it. I dialed Tobias' number. Alloran answered the videophone. ((Good to see you, Alloran.))

((Good to see you as well, Prince Aximili. Do you have something for me to work with?))

((Yes. I managed to steal the memory core of the Pool Complex computer. It is connected to the videophone, so you should be able to hack into it now.))

((I have it. Stand by.))

I could hear a conversation floating up the nearby stairway. Marco, Jeanne, Jake, Melissa, and Carl were all enjoying some beer at Jacques' basement bar. I am told that alcohol is a depressant that helps to take the edge off such stressful times. ((Alloran, when you have the information, you may terminate the connection. I will be socializing. Thank you for your assistance.))

((I am always happy to assist you in your endeavors, my Prince.)) The screen went blank. He didn't need a video feed in order to hack the memory core.

I walked over to the little Omegamorph gathering. They were at Jacque's basement bar. ((Where did Carl go?)) I asked.

"He went to pray in Jacque's garden. Something about the Prayer of St. Michael," Marco said, "Evidently, he's very religious."

"That's cool," Melissa said, "But we still have to do something about him." We all looked at Prince Jake.

((For now, I'll keep an eye on him. He should be kept from knowing any more to minimize the possible damage.)) I walked up the stairwell and out the door just to the right. From there, I could monitor Carl in the garden and listen to the conversation in the basement too. I heard him saying, "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle…"

"He saved all our lives. Every one of us. Several times over. What can I do?" Prince Jake paused and considered, "The way I figure it, he found out all by himself. We gave him no hints. Neither did the Yeerks. The agreement was if one group or the other actively revealed what was happening. That didn't happen. The treaty is intact."

"Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. May God rebuke him we humbly pray…"

((Are you sure, Prince Jake?)) I asked.

"That works for me," Jeanne said, "Unless something proves Jake wrong, I couldn't lay my hand on that man in a million years."

"The universe spontaneously combusting might be your only warning," Melissa said, "But I can't touch him either. Cold blooded murder on a man that did so much for us. I don't know if I could live with it.
"And do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the Power of God …"

"I don't remember enough to make a decision," Marco said, "I can't do anything to him either. I guess it's a risk we'll have to take."

((It is such a big gamble,)) I pointed out.

"It is," Prince Jake said heavily, "It is."

"cast into Hell Satan, and all the Evil spirits, that prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen"
Jacques came down the stairway to the bar, "Hey, you guys know who that is in my garden?"

"It's a Tri-I Operative named Carl Yastrzemski. Or Yahtzee as Marco likes to say," Jeanne answered.

"Really? Sergeant Carl? What's he doing here?"

"He bailed us out of the Yeerk Pool," Prince Jake informed him, "He managed to get us all out alive."
"That's not too surprising. He's one of the most dangerous men in Tri-I. He's a member of the EPIC, Elite Protection and Infiltration Commandos, and he has top scores for their ranks."

Carl came in and walked down the stairs. I followed him.

"Hey Jacques. What's going on?"

"Not much, Sergeant. Big business as usual. When Tri-I needs something, I help out. Mostly, I've been trying to recoup losses after the economic meltdown. How have you been, Sergeant?"

"I've had a little excitement. I've been investigating a terrorist attack at the local Tri-I installation. Ended up running into these guys down in the old Yeerk Pool and ran into the legendary Undervisser. He's a pretty cool dude. I didn't manage to kill him, which is saying something." The operative leaned on the bar counter, "Jacques? Would you happen to have any Sobieski wine?"

"Got it right here."

"Thanks."

Curiosity got the better of me, ((What was that ritual you performed in the garden?)) It was strange for me to ask. I had never had a particular curiosity about human religion. But religious leanings in a man such as Carl intrigued me.

"That was the Prayer to Saint Michael. He's the patron Saint of pretty much anyone who may go into danger on a regular basis. Soldiers, firemen, police, we pray to him so that he can pray to God for us. The Archangel's words carry more weight to the Lord than our own."

((We Andalites don't have a God as you humans know. We concentrate on taking care of nature, so that the grass can continue to grow and nurture us. And we live by something similar to the human golden rule, treat everybody as if they were a member of your own herd.))

Marco nodded, "From what I know, the interests of humanity pretty much hijacked my life. That's not a bad philosophy, Ax." Everybody nodded agreement.

"Yeah, that's good," Carl said, "Everybody ought to have a Golden Rule. Personally, I like a more thought out philosophy. Ever watch the movie Dragonheart?"

Jeanne rolled her eyes, "Only too many times when we went on our vacation together a few months back." I believe she was referring to when they were searching for me in Kelbrid space, but she didn't want to tell him exactly what they were doing.

"I love the movie, personally. The Old Code they talk about is really something to live by, despite how corny it sounds when quoted exactly. The simple truth is this: you got to fight the bad guys and help out the needy people, doing both with every resource you can muster. And you do that first by living a clean, virtuous life. That's part of why I'm so religious. It can't be done without grace from above."

"Sounds all good in little talks like these, but does it really work?" Melissa asked, "I mean, as far as I can see it just takes people being good to each other instead of being jerks. You don't really need prayer for that."

"It might seem that way, but there are always going to be people who insist on being jerks, or worse. It takes courage to confront them in regular life, and definitely to confront the worse ones on the battlefield. There's that, and then every time I go into a fight, I know it's somebody else pulling me through the other end. On one of the missions you never hear about, I went with some Green Berets into Iran to stop some of the gun trafficking into Iraq. Only five of us made it out. Me, Cottrell, Santorelli, Shepherd, and Dean. From what happened, I know absolutely none of us should have gotten out of that valley alive."
Everyone snapped to attention at that. My stalk eyes scanned the room. I judged from the mildly surprised looks on everybody's face that they had heard it too.

"How did you know Santorelli?" Jeanne asked, "He was a good friend of mine."

"Really? Small world. We kicked down doors together in Fallujah. For some reason, I was assigned to be an embedded journalist for the Marines with his unit. Don't know how that happened, but we ended up together for a year. We wanted to get into Tri-I together, but he got his slot in Jake's class while they told me to be his body guard. I fell out of touch with him recently, I'd like to talk with him again sometime."
The room fell silent. Nobody knew what to say. Mostly, they were interested in looking at their toes. Carl looked around at the tops of the heads that were revealed to him.

"If silence were golden, we'd be rich, wouldn't we?" Marco, with worse than bad timing. We all refrained from remind him that we were rich. At least, he and Jacques were.

The Operative got wise to what was happening and turned to Jeanne, "You said he was a good friend?"

"Yes. He was with us since this whole thing started a few months ago," Jeanne seemed to be close to tears, "Santorelli fought bravely as he's always done, and gave his life for humanity."

Carl soaked it in for a second. "I knew him well. I know he's in a better place."

Prince Jake looked Carl in the eye, "He is."

"I have to report back to Tri-I. They're going to be real interested in what's going on down there. Definite Yeerk activity," Carl put his wine glass down and started walking slowly toward the stairs, "I think I'm going to walk. I need to clear my head after all that." He disappeared into the stairwell.

Everyone was too tired to stay up any longer. They all headed in their separate directions to bed. I walked to my own quarters. Before long, I was in a deep nap.

CHAPTER 19

Everyone was too tired to stay up any longer. They all headed in their separate directions to bed. I walked to my own quarters. Before long, I was in a deep nap.

Something in my mind managed to stay awake. It wandered about my head freely without my noticing it. It was bothersome, like a bug buzzing in my ear. Nothing to worry about. I swatted at it with my dream-state tail. That ought to keep it away.

Of course, it wouldn't just stay away. It kept at it. It would not allow me to dismiss it, as it should have been.

I was on a planet I had never seen before. It seemed to be divided in half. One half of it, to my left, was frozen in ice. There were mountains of ice that were clear as glass. I could see a sea in the distance. It was frozen, too. The waves piled on top of each other almost artistically. The ice was by no means natural. What wasn't ice was covered in snow. It didn't seem to fall from the sky. Rather, it just swirled around by wind I couldn't feel.

To my right was a vast desert. There were no mountains, but there were high sand dunes. Instead of a sea or lake, there some massive sink holes in the ground, gaping pits down which white sand poured constantly. I also saw a volcano in the distance, spouting water that vaporized before it hit the ground. Like in the icy half, the sand swirled, stirred by some unfelt breeze.

Where I stood, dividing the two halves, was a band of green grass about five feet wide. The grass was the most delicious I have ever tasted. It was like candy, even to my dimmed Andalite sense of taste. Oddly enough, the snow and sand seemed to stop exactly where the grass began. There was no overlap where they joined.

Cautiously, I picked up a handful of sand and tried to drop it on the grass. It all ran between my fingers before I reached the grass. I tried several more times with the same result. Then I picked up a handful of snow. It melted, became water, then vaporized as soon as I tried to bring it across that unfelt boundary.

I could hear the n-dimensional powers talking. All three of them were having a meeting, apparently, and for some reason I had been chosen to witness it.

I did not know how I was alive to witness this event. One of the superbeings must have wanted me there. I looked to my right. There they were, sitting around a circular oak table sharing some hot tea. I walked toward them to overhear what they were saying. I saw the Drode representing the Crayak. Azmaveth was there to represent himself. He was dressed in his usual off-colored suite and off colored face. The Ellimist betrayed the appearance of his power by being a simple Ketran.

The table itself was odd. Azmaveth sat to one side. His half of the table was made of some sort of strong wood. It was polished and seemed to reflect the light of the unseen sun. He was sitting in the midst of the ice, seeming not to notice the cold. Opposite of him sat the Drode, whose side of the table was made of some kind of black stone. Though he was in the desert, the heat obviously did not bother him.

The middle of the table, a section exactly as wide as the grass, was made of some kind of azure crystal. The Ellimist sat on a perch extending from the side of it directly opposite from me. What was happening?

"The agreement is about to be broken," Azmaveth said, "That human knows about the new Yeerk invasion and is about to inform his superiors. That is unacceptable. My people have taken every step in their power to prevent this becoming common knowledge. Your people haven't done so. They could have told the human to go away. They could have wiped his memories. They could have done any number of things to prevent what's going on now. You are in contempt of the rules. Is he not, Ellimist?"
The Ellimist gave away no body language. Millennia of playing games with the Crayak had given him the ultimate poker face, "By the strictest of interpretations, you are right. The Animorphs could easily handle the small breach in security. They were in contact with the breach as allies. It is now their duty to contain it."

"I will not contain it," the Drode rebuked, "This breach of security was in no way caused by the Animorphs. They have no duty to contain it. Therefore they will not. Your people could have contained it too. You could have just killed him."

"Your people are in the perfect position to do so," the One argued. "And this game must continue according to the status quo. As per the rules, all out conflict on Earth will only break out once both sides consent that they are ready."

"You will have my consent-," the Drode began.

"But not mine. You know the Yeerks are not yet ready," Azmaveth interrupted, "where as regular Earth forces can step in at a moments notice. Either way, that is not the point. The breach must be stopped, and it is your duty to do so. Will you?"

"No," was the Drode's response, "There is no duty and you know it."

"So you still defy me despite the fact that the arbiter has taken my side. That means only one thing. Full scale war of our own style."

"Hey, I'm good at war. It's a fun game."

"You did not think so last time we played."

"I've come to realize we've played more times than you think," the Drode answered smugly. "Did you ever wonder why the Kelbrid could not defeat the Ssri'Kai?"

"Then you will meet the same fate you did the last time we fought."

Azmaveth and the Drode rose from their seats and left. There was nothing I could do. The whole universe was going to collapse, and there was nothing I could do. The Ellimist turned around in his seat to face me, "You know what you must do," was all he said. With the flick of his wrist, I was sent flying backwards. I glided in the low gravity. I flew over a water volcano. The jet pushed me up. I flailed as the water collected on my fur. Gravity pulled me back down. The cold intruded on my flesh. The ice formed. It became thick. A half minute later I was completely frozen in a block of ice.

CHAPTER 20

I woke with a start from my dream. I stomped my hooves around, resisting the impulse to break out in a run. I looked about myself. There was no water volcano, or n-dimensional conference, or anything of the sort. Just my room in Jacque's and Naomi's house. A house that would likely cease to exist in just a little while. The war should be starting at any moment.

The only thing that could be done was to get rid of the Operative.

I walked downstairs. I did not want to alarm any of my friends if they saw or heard me bolting out the door. Nor did I want to alarm Jacques or Naomi. I walked across the lush green grass of the front yard to the garage. It strengthened me. I would need that strength.

Not too long ago, I had bought my own car with Jacque's money. He insisted that it would come in handy some time and that he had more than enough money to spare. So I had bought a fifteen passenger van. All that space would be able to hold my Andalite friends easily if they ever came to visit. Using my tail blade, I pried the license plate off. Identification of the vehicle would later be a liability.

I jumped into the driver's compartment and keyed the engine. The van rolled easily out of the driveway. I waited until it was out of earshot of the house, then I gunned it to being well above the speed limit. I had to catch up. The Operative had an hour and a half head start while I was sleeping. He should be near the Tri-I headquarters already. There would be no 'better late than never' scenario.

Sirens sounded and lights flashed behind me. The local police forces had seen that not only was I speeding, but I had no license plate. I could not allow myself to be caught. It wasn't about paying tickets, that would be easy. If I was stopped for any amount of time, the Operative would get away.

I weaved my large van in and out of traffic, almost playing chicken with opposing traffic on a four lane road. The vehicles blazed by behind me, almost a blur to my Andalite eyes. I came up on two double-trailer semi trucks. One was in each lane, blocking my way. I pulled out to pass, police ever on the pursuit. Another semi was coming the other way in the closer lane. I pulled out all the way to the furthest lane on the opposite side of the road, only to see a geo coming my way. I slammed on the breaks and swerved to the left even more. I very nearly came off the road altogether, and the paint on the right side of the van was scraped off by the passing geo. The geo slammed on its breaks and spun like a top.

I hit the gas again and zoomed past the two semis. I'm sure if they knew what was happening, they would understand. But they could never know until the war could be made public. And that might be never.
The sirens fell back behind me, stuck in back of the semis. They couldn't risk going into opposing traffic on such a busy street.

The suburbs gave way to the city. I shot through the 45 zones doing 90. I caught sight of city police trying to set up spike strips in front of me. There was nothing but parking meters on the sidewalk. I took that path, snapping those meters as I went. I blew past the cops with their spikes, got back on the road, and kept going.

Almost there now. Only about a block to go. I kept racing. He should be there already. I hoped that I was not already too late.

The city police made a roadblock with their vehicles. There was no going around. Only through. My hands held the steering wheel in a death grip, my legs braced for the impact. I aimed the van to where two of the cars overlapped a little bit. That would be the easiest place to go through.

The metal screeched as the vehicles collided. The police cruisers pivoted out of the way on their wheels from the force of the motion, swinging like a gate and letting me pass. The van was in rough shape now. I had no idea how much farther it could be pushed. But it didn't matter. Either it would get me there, or it wouldn't.

I caught sight of the Operative. He was still walking on the sidewalk just a few yards from the gate of the installation.

With the pressure from the police, there was no other option. There could be no kidnapping. Blood would have to be the price of his knowledge.

I aimed the van. He tried to get out of the way, but it was too late. The left side of his torso was crushed between the van and the building he was walking past. I was sent flying into the vehicle airbags. My body was thrown back as the van bounced back from the wall.

I picked myself up heavily, the deed having been done. I opened the side door and walked out. I was greeted by the horrified looks of the bystanders. My stalk eyes looked at the Operative. He was slumped on top of himself in a pool of his own blood. The right side of his body looked as if it had been chewed on by one of the Visser's old morphs. My body shook with shame, guilt, and rage. No brave young man should have had to die in such a way. If there was any way to do so, I would exact a toll on the n-dimensional powers. All this suffering in the universe, it was all their fault.

I looked around again. The police and the Tri-I installation guards were closing in. I galloped away at full sprint. To prevent being identified, I put my hands over my face and navigated entirely by stalk eyes. The bipedal humans were left behind, but I knew that they would coordinate by radio. I had to get away clean.
I ran into the lobby of a skyscraper. I ran into the closest elevator I saw and scared everybody out of it by whipping my tail at them. I hit the button for the roof. It took twenty minutes to reach the top. When I got there, there was no staying to morph. The police would certainly be coming up by another elevator. Only one choice.

I ran at full gallop for the edge of the building. Inside of eighty paces, I was flailing in empty space, morphing as I fell.

I was a fully formed seagull now. That would be best if I wanted to blend in with other birds to escape police binoculars. I scanned the ground rushing up below me. A part of me simply wanted to not open up my bird's wings. The grief had nearly paralyzed me, but it was the sense of duty that came to the rescue. I opened my wings and nearly scraped my belly on the pavement below.

I flew fast and hard, running away. Not from the cops. They couldn't identify me now. Not from Tri-I, as soon as I joined a flock of seagulls, they would be as lost as the police. No, I ran from myself. I ran from my own hearts, which were aching in the pain of guilt and shame.

CHAPTER 21

I flew around for almost my two hour limit. I had no idea how I could face Prince Jake. Or myself.
No matter how bad things get, life goes on. I had to go back to the house and get on with it.
I flew back to the house and morphed in the garden. The Operative's words were still echoing in my head, "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle…"

Strange noises came through the doorway. I walked through the door and to the living room. There was ping pong table sitting in the center of it. The Drode stood on one side. Casually, he smacked the ball, disappeared, reappeared on the other side, and hit the ball back to himself. He looked over to me, though he did not miss the ball, nor did he stop teleporting himself. "Hey look! It's the war hero!"

Confetti fell out of the air while balloons rose. From somewhere, the human music called, 'Hail to the Chief' was playing.

The others were sitting around the living room, dark expressions no their faces. Only Prince Jake seemed willing to look at me. Melissa was squeezing his hand. "The Drode told us…" he trailed off.

Marco shook his head, his eyes on the ground. Jeanne had one arm over hi shoulder and she wouldn't look at me either. "He showed us on the TV as it was happening."

"How could you do that to him?" Melissa demanded. "He saved all of our lives. We'd have been dead without him."

"We had decided to let him to," Jeanne added. "There was no need to kill him."

((There was,)) I argued. ((I heard Azmaveth, the Drode, and the Ellimist talking.))

"No, actually, you didn't," the Drode answered.

That gave me pause. ((What?))

"I know what you saw. The Ellimist showed me. He figured it was the sort of thing I should know. And what you saw was what Azmaveth wanted you to see. A trick to make you do exactly what you did: kill Carly boy and stop the rest of Earth from finding out."

((But if Carl told his superiors, the treaty would have been broken,)) I argued.

"No, it wouldn't" the Drode answered.

((How is that possible?)) I demanded.

"Remember the Ellimist's ruling about the Pythagi? The treaty was still intact because the Pythagi found out all on their own. It's the same deal here. Mankind could have entered the war against the Yeerks, and the treaty would still be intact."

((Then…))

"Yes, Axy, you didn't just murder him for no reason. You actually removed a chance to get some real help in this war. I think the term humans use is 'screwing the pooch.

That took a few moments to sink in. ((Is there anything that-))

"Not about this one," the Drode answered. "And don't bother getting excited about any repeats of this. Azmaveth and I made sure to do a little clarification in the rules. We wrote in a little clause about inaction. Now, both parties are required to actively prevent third parties from finding out what's going on."

That made me even more depressed about all of this. Tri-I would no doubt investigate Carl's death. And now, we could not allow them to discover what Carl had. If it looked like they were in danger of figuring things out, we would be obligated to stop them. Or at least, to let the Yeerks do it.

The Drode clapped his hands together. "Well, it's been fun as always, Anis. Good luck cleaning up this little mess you all made. And have fun telling Toby what you did here. I'm sure he'll just love it." The Drode disappeared, leaving me even more ashamed of myself. I didn't even know that was possible at the moment.

Prince Jake looked up from the floor again, staring at me. ((Yes my Prince?))

"You know what you've done. As long as you still have a conscience, there is nothing I can add to the feelings you ought to have inside."

I couldn't even speak. What could I say?

Prince Jake sensed this, "I guess the question from onboard the Washington has finally been answered."

I found my voice again, ((I will understand completely if I am to be discharged from your command, or proscribed an appropriate punishment.))

"No Ax. We have too few people for such things. I'll have to be content with the punishments you give yourself."

We looked at each other in silence for several more seconds. There was nothing more to say. Prince Jake walked out the door.

CHAPTER 22

A few days later, Jacques was invited to a funeral. We all knew why. He extended the invitation to us Omegamorphs as well, knowing that they might want to pay the young Operative respects for his life of service. They all accepted.

I did not.

No, it was not because I disliked him or belittled his sacrifice. I wanted to do something special. Something in private.

The day after the funeral, I walked up the main roadway of the cemetery to the freshly dug grave. The tombstone was typical, no frills. What made it stand apart was the White Eagle and the Eagle Globe and Anchor flanking the name SERGEANT CARL YASTZREMSKI.

Three youths were there, putting flowers on the grave. They rose, paused, and walked away. When I was sure I was not being watched, I approached. My hand alighted on the stone and my head bowed as I recited the ritual of forgiveness.

((I have made right everything that can be made right, I have learned everything that can be learned, I have sworn not to repeat my error, and I now claim forgiveness.)) I don't know how I managed to get it all out. There was a 'lump in my throat,' as humans like to say. I wanted to be forgiven so badly you cannot know, but I hadn't yet forgiven myself.

Buried here was a fighter, deserving of my greatest weapon. I had removed most of my tailblade by a laser cutting tool in Jacques' hangar where we used to park the Reliquary. There was a fastening gel on one side. Once it attached to something, it would turn into something like cement. I placed the blade on the face of the stone, above the name. It seemed to draw a bridge between the symbols of Poland and the Marine Corps.

I drew back to the road, almost backing into a large black man who was standing in front of the grave as well. I turned to him.

"Ah, hello Prince Aximili. It's good to see you've come to pay your respects as well."

I was startled by his presence. I recognized him, of course. We had met only once before, but such a man was impossible to forget. He stood as tall as a Hork-bajir and he looked to be about as solid. ((Good to see you too. Excuse me, but… what is your name? I'm afraid I cannot remember.))

"My apologies, Prince," the man answered. "My name is Adrian Rook. I knew Carl since he joined. He showed such promise. I was his superior officer."

((Jacques told me Carl was one of the EPICs. You are as well?))

Rook gave me a grin that seemed nearly feral. "I'm their leader. It's such a tragedy to see him cut down like this. He was one of my best men, and in more than just battle and intelligence gathering skills. He always carried an extra canteen of water on him in case one of his peers or subordinates were hit and didn't look like they'd pull through, he would take out his canteen and baptize them, to be sure they'd go to Heaven. A good man indeed." Rook paused, reflecting I suppose. "Funny…on our third EPICs mission, one of our comrades, man called Paulson, was shot in the chest. Carl was trying to baptize him and Paulson kept trying to make him stop. I had to hold Paulson down while Carl did his work."

((Why did you do that?)) I asked.

"Well, that's the funny thing about Carl. He was more worried about Paulson's soul than Paulson was. Paulson might not have needed it, but Carl sure as hell did. That's just the way he's built. I worry about our bodies, Doctor Yao worries about our minds, and Carl worried about our souls. He's going to be a hard man to replace. How did you come to know him?"

His words tore through me. I had no defense against them. I wish I could have told him what had really happened, but the treaty was still in place, ((Before returning to Earth, I ran through many Tri-I reports in case I might be needed to assist in some situation. His name was on quite a few and perked my curiosity. A little deeper research showed me what a man he was. I found it appropriate to come and pay my respects.))

Rook seemed to buy this reasoning, "I think you ought to know that he looked up to you Animorphs very much. He had all of Jake's and Marco's books. He always wanted to get one that you wrote, but you were probably too busy with assignments to write one."

I couldn't take it anymore. It was that simple. I just couldn't. I knew it would be extremely rude, but I walked away. I felt his eyes on my back. I paused, ((He reminded me of my brother.)) I hoped he would understand, but probably not. I continued walking.

I was just out of the grave site when my iHolo informed me of an incoming call from Tobias. Naturally, I answered it. ((Tobias.))

"Glad I could catch you, Ax. There are a couple of things you need to know," Tobias told me.

I nodded. ((Go on.))

"Al's finished investigating the memory core. T here's no record of the PFFG in it."

((Nothing?))

"It gets worse. Salheer, figured out that we were spying on them through their computers. He used that to feed us false information and lead you into that trap."

((Are you sure?))

Tobias nodded. "There was a message from the Visser in the memory core telling us that. He seemed…inordinately pleased with himself. We can't trust any of the information we get from the computers anymore. Not unless we have it confirmed in some way. Maybe there's some way we can turn this against them, but I can't think of it right now."

((What else?)) I asked.

"It wasn't your fault, what happened with Carl. You were tricked, Ax. It happens. Azmaveth even managed to trick Crayak a few times. Against someone like that, you didn't have a chance."

((But I should have realized it was a trick. Why else would I have been allowed to witness that conference? Why else would-))

"Everything's clearer once the smoke's gone, Ax," Tobias interrupted me. "We've all been played for fools by these powers before. This wasn't the first time, and it probably won't be the last."

((That is not very comforting, Tobias,)) I muttered.

"Truth is usually a small comfort at best. But I've found that sometimes it's all we have. I take whatever small comfort I can get." He had me there. "One more thing, Ax. And this, I hope, is more of a comfort."

((What is it?))

"I'd have done the same thing. If had been there, I'd have ordered Carl killed. More likely, I'd have done it myself. Even without being tricked by Azmaveth, I'd have done it. Letting Carl go was a gamble and I'd never bet the fate of the world on a hunch."

((But it would have paid off,)) I insisted.

"Yeah, it would have. But we could have never known that. Maybe we'd have guessed, but even then it's a gamble because our guess could have been wrong. No matter how things played out, Ax, if I had been there Carl would have been dead as soon as we were out of those tunnels."

I was silent for a few moments. Then, I said, ((If we win this war, we will be called heroes once more. How can we accept that, knowing what we did?))

"There are different kinds of heroes, Ax. Jake's one kind. He'll always do the moral thing. The few times when he didn't, it nearly destroyed him. He was depressed for more than a year because he killed a bunch of Yeerks. He won't make that sort of decision again. He's the sort of people everyone can look up to, the kind kids want to grow up to be. He's the one who gets the statues and the glory, the one we remember as the best a man can be.

"And you, you're a different kind. You're a scholar's hero. You're a good man, like Jake, but you don't let that stop you when you need to get something done. You're a soldier to your very soul, Prince Aximili." That made ma pause. I think it was the first time he ever used my rank. "You're the sort of hero Andalite leaders will look up to for a hundred generations. You can do what needs to be done, the cold, calculated, logical thing. And you can still manage to keep your soul in the process. Those who look at war as more than history, those who have a reason to look past right and wrong, will revere you even more than Jake."

He was silent for a few moments, so I asked him, ((And what kind of hero are you?))

"Me….I'm not a hero. I'm the kind of man history tries to forget. The right thing, the moral thing, has no place in the way I make war. I'm a predator, and my enemies are my prey. And predator will do whatever it takes to get his prey. I do what I do so that people like you and Jake can afford to be moral and good."

((You are more than that, Prince Tobias,)) I answered.

He shook his head. "I know what I am, Ax. I came to grips with it long ago. Just look at what happened with Mersa. I saved his life. I made deals with him. I allowed him to infest people in my home town unchecked because as long as he was alive, he was useful to me. And when he was no longer useful, I had no problem killing him. That doesn't sound like a Prince. That sounds like a Visser."

I did not have much to say that. I could not deny his logic, but I could not accept it either. I knew in my soul that he was nothing like the Vissers we knew far too well. But one cannot argue the feelings of the hearts.

"History will try to forget me because I scare them. Jake is the best a man can be. And I'm the worst. They'll be right to forget me. I hope they succeed, because I don't want people idolizing me they way they do Jake. I don't want anyone to grow up to be like me. And maybe…maybe that's the test."

((The test?))

"Azmaveth is testing us, Ax. For a long time, I thought he was testing to see how far we would go to survive. But now…now I think I might be wrong. Maybe he's not trying to find out how far we'll go. Maybe he's trying to see just where we draw the line. And if that's the case, I'm worried that I'm the very reason we'll all be annihilated."

((If you did not do the things you do, humans would be enslaved by the Yeerks and annihilated anyway,)) I pointed out.

"That's exactly what I was thinking, Ax. So we keep on doing what we're doing. Sometimes, we don't know if what we do is right or wrong until it's all over. I can't know if what I do is what mankind needs or if it's what's going to destroy us. And you couldn't know if killing Carl was going to save or damn us. You don't know if the answer you gave was right or wrong until the results come back. That's how tests work."

((So how can we keep from giving the wrong answers?))

"We study, Ax, and we learn from our mistakes so that things like this never happen again."

((And if we don't learn enough? If we still fail?))

"Then we deal with the consequences as best we can." His eyes hardened suddenly. "But we don't have to worry about that, Ax. We're going to pass this test. We're Earth's best students; and foreign-exchange students. We're here because Azmaveth chose us. Because he wants us to pass. And he chose rightly. This, I now for sure. By this time next year, we'll be standing side by side in the new world that's going to come."

I knew what had happened. Before, he had been speaking to me as Tobias, my friend, my shorm. He could show doubt, uncertainty, insecurity. But now, he was speaking as my leader. Now, he was War-Prince Tobias, son of Prince Elfangor and the defeneder of Earth. And when he spoke as that, I just could not help but believe it was true. Despite lies, manipulation, and the might of the Kelbrid, the Visser, and the God General, we would succeed. We were the Animorphs, and nothing could stop us.

And now for some words of wisdom from Streetlight Manifesto:

Last night I woke alone with a whisper in my ear ,
Recanting all my aspirations and my fears.
And when the sun came up that voice had disappeared,
But it would linger on for years.

It said, "We can't just blame it on our mothers,
Claim everything they did was always wrong."
And there ain't no turning back when our train is off its track,
And there's nothing we can do but watch it crash (watch it crash).
And there ain't no right and wrong when we know it won't be long
And there's nothing we can do but watch it crash.

So mercy, mercy, mercy me!
Praying for the death of a man I'll never meet.
Though everyone will know the truth they'll still just make believe.
Mercy, mercy me!

That's all they came for, that's all they took.
That's all we had to offer, only dirty looks.
And when they realized we'd given all we could, that's when they finally understood.

Mercy, mercy, mercy me!
Haunted by the memories of things we'll never see.
Guilty for the statements that we'll never get to speak.
Mercy, mercy me!

We quite blame it on our mothers,
Claim everything they did was always wrong.
And there ain't no turning back when our train is off its track,
And there's nothing we can do but watch it crash.
And there ain't no right and wrong when we know it won't be long,
And there's nothing we can do but watch it crash (watch it crash).
And there's nothing we can do but watch it crash.

-Watch it Crash

And don't miss the next installment of the Animorphs series:

73: The Defender

Tobias set the emitter on the table. It was vaguely egg-shaped, like a lot of Andalite tech. It was a pale orange, with a red circle at the thinner end and a green lens at the wider part. Down the center was a yellow strip. Tobias put tow fingers to the red pad and a faintly-green image appeared above the lens.

Alloran-Semitur-Corrass. I recognized him instantly. He nodded. "Commander-Prince," he greeted Tobias. A voice came out of the yellow part of the device, since this one wasn't capable of transmitting thought speak like a proper one would be. "We just received a very…unusual….transmission from the Yeerks."

"You intercepted a transmission?" Tobias asked.

Alloran shook his head. "No, we didn't It was sent to us intentionally, which is part of why it is so strange."

"What did they want?" I asked.

"It was from their Undervisser, Guraff Four-Two-Seven." Alloran turned his main eyes to Tobias. "You fought him in the battle above Hork-bajir. I am not sure if you remember who he is."

Tobias managed not to smile. Then again, even when he intends to smile, he usually managed not to. "I've heard of him. What did he want?"

"You."

"What?"

"He wants you to contact him. He left us a communications channel for you to do so. Do you have any idea why he might be doing this?"

"No clue," Tobias answered. "I guess I should call him, though. It's only polite."

Alloran nodded. "Be very, very careful, Commander. Guraff was Esplin's top man and I can assure you from far too much experience that he is perhaps the most dangerous Yeerk in the galaxy. Be very, very careful."

"I think I can handle it," Tobias assured him.

"The electorate will, of course, want to hear the details of your conversation."

"Of course. Is that all?"

"Yes. Alloran out."

Tobias dialed up Guraff's channel. Guraff himself answered. His holographic image was only about a foot high, but there was still an imposing air about him. Not that aura of evil like the Visser or Salheer had. This was an aura of…steel, or iron.

"That was prompt, Devil Prince."

"Well, this is sort of important," Tobias answered.

"Indeed. I hope you do not mind the convoluted method I was forced to use. You have done a very good job of hiding yourself. You know why I called?"

"Of course, though I'm surprised that you did."

"What are you two talking about?" I interrupted. How could Tobias already know what this was about?

Tobias turned to me. "If Tri-I finds out that the Chief is a Controller, we all die. So we have to stop Tri-I from getting him from the F.B.I. Guraff knows this as well as we do."

Guraff nodded. "The Devil Prince knows me well. I have the resources to obtain the chief, and a viable plan as well. Unfortunately, we do not possess the necessary knowledge to bring it to fruition."

"What's the plan?" Tobias asked.

"Something we shall discuss in due time, I think. Before we speak of it, we need information. We need to know when and how Tri-I and the F.B.I. are making the transfer. I am confident that you will be able to discover that. Contact me again once you have, and we will discuss the plan."

"What's in it for us?" Tobias asked. "Why help you instead of doing it ourselves?"

"If you aid us, you will have my resources at your disposal. And I will allow you to keep the Chief. He is of no use to me anymore. Think on this offer and contact me soon. For now, we must both prepare."

"For what?" I asked.

"For Mister Putin's arrival, of course." He cut the transmission and his hologram disappeared.

Rachel came back into the room. "I got James for about two seconds. He said hello, and then I heard a smashing sound and the phone stopped working."

"I was afraid of that," Tobias muttered. "Sergio's got a very strict no-phones policy. It's either because he doesn't want to take the chance of a call to the warehouse getting triangulated by police, or because he's completely insane. Maybe both."

"So how do we contact James?" I asked.

"Call Sergio's office. He'll pass on a message from me to James. Let's go. Ronnie can give us a lift back to the apartment. We've got a lot of work to do. We've got to save a police chief from Tri-I and a world leader from the Yeerks, and God knows how much time we have." He paused. Then he shook his head. "Maybe after this, I'll figure out some way to get my hand son the Time Matrix again and take an ice relaxing vacation somewhere before this all happened."

Preview Summary
The war on Earth isn't the only battle the Animorphs can't afford to lose. Earth stands on the edge, ready to plunge into the raging war between Yeerks, Pythagi, Andalite, and Anati. But when Earth's most powerful pro-war advocate comes to Alpha front, he'll become a target the Yeerks just can't resist.

But, as always, there is a complication. A high-ranking Controller has been arrested and is about to be turned over to Tri-I. When that happens, Tri-I will know everything and the superpowers that be will go to war on their own scale. In order to prevent this, Cassie, Tobias, David, James, and Al will have to stand side-by-side with the Yeerks once more…


AFTERWORD

I, capnnerefir, would like to take this moment at the end to say a few words about this. As you know (but may have forgotten), this was written almost entirely by my friend and fellow John3Sobieski, who my readers such as yourselves have most likely not had the pleasure to meet. John is going off to to bootcamp in a few days (again, provided you're reading this in September of '09. If not, he's probably either already there, back, on active duty, or retired), where he will be training as a marine. He intends to go into war journalism and, I believe, has already secured a position with the marines as such. When he comes back from bootcamp, and before he gets shipped out, he'll be publishing some of his own work (with only very, very little input from me), and I'd encourage you all to read it. It all sounds like some great stuff and I for one can't wait.

As always, thanks for reading. It was great watching John play in my world. I'll be back at the wheel next fic, and I hope to see you there.