Chapter 4

((Are we confirming Yeerks?)) Cassie questioned.

Jake replied, ((Right now, yes. Assume Yeerks.))

((Jeanne,)) I called, passing on the message. ((Assume Yeerks.))

The message was passed down to Marco and Santorelli, who were out of my range. Now, Jake was on edge and eager to make sure that nobody became isolated.

((Start heading to the meeting point. No divergences,)) He ordered. ((Once we're at the tower, we'll stick together before heading back. We don't want any problems here.))

I was surprised how quickly he had come into thought-speak range since the Bug Fighter had been located. I had started to move away again, acting as just another Mak going about my daily business. The tower was my next destination, but I continued to look for clues.

I spotted more and more Taxxons as I moved on, and reported on them every time, detailing their activities. Most of them were engaging in manual work, which involved shifting wood or rock. Others lazed about or sifted through piles of garbage. They certainly didn't appear to be involved in warfare activity, nor did I see any other signs of Yeerks. Other than the downed Bug Fighter. The Mak were not bothered by the Taxxon presence at all.

I couldn't avoid them. Any attempt to would seem out of place, so when I escaped a small crowd and bumped into the squishy side of one of the gargantuan centipedes, I had no choice but to calmly step aside and allows its passage like a good, friendly citizen.

I got out of the clearing and into an area with yet more blue buildings that hugged the ground tightly and closed me in. Suddenly, a report came through from Jake, whose voice was growing distant again. ((Marco and Sarge have found someone new. Keep a lookout for guys in white overalls. Apparently, they look like radiation suits.))

((Are they Mak?)) Cassie asked.

((No. Different body shape.)) Jake clarified.

We passed the message down the line, and now we were all on alert for the strange new creatures in white radiation suits. Another report came through. They were all armed and on guard.

Things were beginning to seem a little more dangerous.

I didn't increase my speed, didn't allow myself to appear on-edge or anxious. I kept my body forward, taking a steady stride onwards towards the next area. It took me through a narrow street, doorways made of loose fabric on either side. Mak jogged up and down around me, taking absolutely no notice. That is, until I was actively approached by a Mak child.

It gazed up at me with yellow eyes and a toothy grin. I thought it was a grin. In its hands was a thick, rough-edged piece of black material. The Mak child seemed very pleased with the black material, and hoisted it up at me, urging me to appreciate.

With Mak hands I took the item. It crumpled beneath my fingers and drooped, so I wrapped my other hand around it. I flipped it over to discover some kind of artwork scribbled on the reverse side. The lines were white and drawn with a clear artistic skill.

The drawing was of a Mak. Lowering the picture, I brought the child back into view and came to the conclusion that it was he that had been drawn. He widened his mouth into what I could only imagine was a smile of excitement.

I wished that I could speak with him, but the barrier of language restricted me to vague facial expressions which I allowed my morph to perform instinctively. I could not display my true feelings.

The child took back the image and ran off past me. I watched him right up until he disappeared around the corner from where I had arrived. I had to carry on, and I did.

Eventually, I found the exit of the narrow alley. The sun shone bright onto the small clearing, illuminating a busy section of the city under the watchful gaze of the great spire tower that had crept closer.

And then I saw one of them. The sunlight bounced off of the white suit brutishly, making the creature stand out like a beacon among the swarm of aliens that span like a whirlpool around. It was at least a foot taller than the average Mak, its limbs longer, and there were no signs of space in the suit for the thick, sturdy Mak tail. The white suit covered the entirety of the body, from the head down to the slender legs. The lens for the eyes was darkened, so I could not see through, but I didn't need that to tell me that it certainly was no Mak.

More noticeably, it held a weapon: A big, metallic gold weapon that resembled an oversized rifle. The gloved hands of the new creature curled around the monstrous, gleaming weapon, but remained far from the trigger that was distinguishable on the underside.

((I found one of the suited guys,)) I announced. ((He's standing in an opening. Doesn't look like he's guarding anything specific.))

The Mak, again, seemed unfazed by the presence of the alien. There was another Taxxon crawling around the area, and the suited creature had no adverse reaction. I was intrigued to find out what race the suited creature belonged to, but I knew that I couldn't simply walk up and ask.

I continued into the clearing. To one side, nearby the suited guard, was a Mak sitting before a rock table, watched by a cluster of passers-by. The sitting Mak was busy doing something, the space before him occupied by small containers.

He reached forward into one of the containers and pulled from it a piece of black material. It was the same kind that the Mak child had shown me earlier. It was the artist, and he was about to create another picture.

His hands moved expertly, speedily crafting a black-and-white image for one of the viewers. By the time I had subconsciously walked over, the picture was finished and the receiving Mak took it cheerfully.

At the edge of the table nearest to the viewers was a selection of completed pictures, held down with pebbles. Most of them seemed unimportant and trivial, but my eyes snapped to one far on the left…

A hand slapped down hard on the table beside me, sharply interrupting my focus. Another followed, and then another. The Mak around me were slamming hands onto the table, and the artist was watching each carefully. I had no idea what was going on.

Then somebody else squeezed in beside me. I fell into the shadow of the suited creature, its white costume brushing up against my side, its weapon clanking against the rock of the table's surface. His head turned from side to side, glancing at the pictures just like I had done. The artist continued to acknowledge the table-slaps of the others, but it wasn't until the glove of the suit came down that he reached back into the container to bring out another canvas.

"Rik gyurap." The artist spoke casually to the suited creature.

"Fru tridrin! Akha durnet ra." The suit replied with a muffled but smooth voice.

The artist began his next piece. Meanwhile, I stood firm in my position beside the suit that loomed over me like a ghost. I had to keep calm, composed. To distract myself, I returned my sights to the picture that had previously caught my attention. I moved to grab it, carefully removing the pebbles. Nobody seemed to care.

I saw a Mak, unmistakeable. Beside it, though, an arm intertwined with the Mak's, was another creature. It was taller, more slender in its build. From its back sprouted a bush of wavy vine-like growths. It was a little like a hedgehog in that regard, as the vines sprouted from the back of the head and all the way down to the legs. It had a face like a cat, with pointed ears and large slit eyes. The pair of them together appeared victorious in their stances.

There was something below them, small but with clear detail. It was a Yeerk. It was upside-down and seemed lifeless.

I studied that image carefully, almost forgetting that the suit beside me was awaiting a picture of his own. On remembering that, I placed the Yeerk picture back in its rightful place, just as the artist finished his drawing. He turned and showed it to the suit, who barked out in a contented voice.

It was the Mak and the vined race again, side-by-side. Before them, an Andalite lay dead, upper body entirely separated from the lower. The crowd around us started to slam the table again.