Chapter 11

((Things have been going surprisingly well! I had best be on guard, because things never usually go this well without something untoward ruining everything. Then again, maybe I'm just being paranoid, and the job that I have been assigned to on Earth truly is this pleasing. I went back to the ARC yesterday to pick up my results, and as promised they were all ready for my use. Ardina accompanied me to the building, after I had spent the night in her hotel room, but she parted ways with me once we arrived. I haven't seen her since, likely because she has begun the testing process for the new invention, that she says will "revolutionise Andalite livelihoods, both here and on the home world". I expected her to return to the hotel yesterday evening, but she was absent. I assume that, in her excitement at such an invention, she has volunteered extra hours to complete the testing sooner. She will probably invite me back to her room tonight. I sure hope so.))

((Anyway, I digress. I retrieved the necessary data from the laboratories and took it back to my office to unravel the secrets that it held. The cupcake sample, as I expected, turned out to be most useful, and that, combined with data from the other samples, led me to a Human by the name of Carl Davison. He was a middle-aged Human male who lived somewhere I believe to be called "Queens". I, Ayattil, and a pair of officers paid Carl Davison a visit at his home, in Human form so as not to spook him, and we explained the situation. He expressed his shock that a clone of himself, morphed by one of our people, had raided a bakery, and at first he was sceptical as to his own legal safety. We assured him that he would face no repercussions, and he proceeded to give us the information that we required. I asked whether he had ever come into physical contact with any Andalites before. The answer was yes, just about a month ago. Carl Davison had been walking home from work, and someone on a street corner asked him for some help in moving a few crates. Apparently, that was just a ruse, because one of the "co-workers", an Andalite meant to be helping with the crates, came into physical contact, and Carl distinctly remembers feeling faint for about ten seconds. His DNA had been acquired by the Andalite who went on to commit the crime at the bakery. All we had to do then was ask Carl to describe the Andalite to us, perhaps give any name that he could remember.))

((The details he gave us were clear and distinct. So now, we are parked outside the residence of Yurrit-Hamirk-Hallgorran. I, Ayattil, and our two officer companions, are about to finish this little job. End journal entry. Mark entry date 8th September 2006. Entry number seven.))

"Must you do that now, Nicalor?" Asked one of the officers who had joined us, in Human morph so that he could drive the vehicle that had taken us to the outskirts of town.

((I do it whenever time allows, Rismull, but so often I find myself interrupted.)) I grumbled.

"Fine. You should both use your Human morphs now. If he sees you as Andalites, he might make a run for it."

((Very well.)) I replied from the back of the van. ((Ayattil, let's go Human.))

((Okay, sir!)) He chirped, and we both began the transformation in the back of our modified van.

Morphing is never quite the same twice, as I'm sure anyone familiar with the technology is aware of. The last time, my forehooves were the first to disappear, unneeded on the four-limbed, bipedal Human form. I had fallen flat on my face and made a complete fool of myself. This time, however, it was my head that changed first, and once my stalk eyes had disappeared and I had grown a mouth, I was an Andalite with a distinctly Human head. Not a pretty sight. Humans are ugly creatures at the best of times.

By the time my tail had shrivelled away into my shortened Human spine, the transformation was complete. I stretched and groaned with my now-familiar mouth, only feeling slightly more comfortable in the enclosed van. We were allowed out of the back, and the four of us stood in the cool Autumn air, thankful that the weather wasn't all to unpleasant on this particular day.

We were stood on the sidewalk of a small suburban area in what I could only describe as the "rough" outskirts of the city. The buildings were squat and aesthetically displeasing, some coated in Human vandalism with boarded-up windows and unkempt grass. The roads were full of holes that made the journey here quite sickening, and there was a certain stench in the air that I just couldn't quite figure out. It wasn't at all appealing.

Having put on our formal, newly-washed suits before leaving the car, we felt a little out of place, perhaps more so than usual.

The vehicle, an undercover van for the NYAPD (New York Andalite Police Department, believe it or not), was parked a block away from Yurrit's suspected residence, meaning we had to walk from there. Thankfully, we had been given the house number and street name, so we knew where to go. The only issue would be remaining inconspicuous. I had already formulated a plan, and informed the officers that I and Ayattil would go on ahead. It wasn't our job, being CI's, who generally would inspect the premises after the suspect has been taken into custody, but we felt that the idea would work to great effect, and it also wouldn't require bringing any doors down. The two officers accompanying us were sceptical, but were ultimately agreeable.

We rounded the first street corner and travelled the remaining yards on our clumsy Human legs. Now used to them enough to pass for true Humans, it would have taken an extraordinarily bright criminal to suss us out, and we approached Yurrit's residence with a confident stroll.

The house was particularly disturbing, with graffiti staining the walls and great holes present in the roofing. The windows were mostly boarded or smashed. It was still habitable, but whoever lived there had seriously neglected it. We assumed that Yurrit used the place as storage, and only lived there periodically.

Grooming our suits, we stood side-by-side at the decrepit front door. I reached up a hand and knocked three times on the thick wood.

((Remember, Ayattil, I will be the one to speak.)) I spoke to him privately.

((I won't say a single word, sir!)) He assured me, though he left me with no confidence.

There was a quiet succession of clinking noises from the other side of the door, as numerous locks were loosened. Finally, the door swung slowly open, just enough for a Human face to gaze down at us when it ceased motion.

It was the face of Carl Davison. He bore a slim grey moustache atop his upper lip, almost masked by a great big monster of a nose. His hair was long, and similarly colour, unkempt and greasy, and his clothes were no better in condition. Yes, this was most definitely an exact copy of the Human we had been questioning.

"What do you want?" He asked rather bluntly through the slim gap in the door.

I silently cleared my throat, arched my back, and forced a large smile onto my face. With a confident tone, I said, "Good afternoon! We're here to share a very special message with you!"

Yurrit, through Carl's body, narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but his hand remained steady on the door. "Okay. What message?"

"The message of our Lord and saviour, Jesus Christ, of course!" I held up the Bible that my Human DNA providers had given me.

Yurrit grumbled, but I could see his initial suspicion subsiding. "I have told you people before, I am not interested in your pathetic superstitions."

I chortled heartily. "But we are not like the others. We are different."

"Okay. How?"

Ayattil, with an equally disturbing grin on his face, raised a small box into the air for Yurrit to see. A few small objects were clustered within.

"We offer free muffins." I informed.

Yurrit considered briefly, eyeing up the plastic container filled with delicious muffins. His Andalite brain was considering the situation.

"What flavour?" He pressed.

"Chocolate."

He pushed open the front door and stepped aside, his mind made up. "Come in."

I had to reign in the urge to congratulate myself for the successful infiltration of his home as we pushed into the horrible little corridor. I couldn't believe my luck when even Ayattil remained in total, muted disguise.

Looking around the main hallway, it was not much different from the outside. The walls were white and bland, with plaster coming loose in varying locations, and the floor was old, wooden, and in need of a good sweeping. The floorboards creaked noisily under my black shoes.

"In there." I heard Yurrit order, and I turned to see him pointing in the direction of the room to our immediate right. I nodded to Ayattil and we both moved into what I assumed to be the living room. There was a small television in the corner, sat atop a wooden stool, opposing a single garden chair where I assumed Yurrit would sit. He followed us into the room and closed the door behind him. Ayattil and I made ourselves as comfortable as the unpleasant room would allow, leaning against objects stable enough to support our weight.

We knew that once we had gained entry into the house, the officers would be taking their positions. All we had to do was trap him and block off any escape route. In closing the door to the living room, he had already made the job considerably easier.

((He's in the living room.)) I thought-spoke to the officers privately. ((He's closed the door. When the door and windows are blocked off, we'll call you in.))

((Okay, Nicalor.)) Came a reply. ((No hurry.))

I surveyed the situation. Yurrit was still stood up against the door, arms folded over his chest and an expectant look on his face. Ayattil had taken place in front of the window, precisely where I told him to be. All I had to do was keep Yurrit complacent, and bring him away from the door. I left his seat empty and leant up against a mouldy wall, finding a spot that would least sully my suit.

"So," Yurrit huffed, shrugging. "You going to say what you want to say?"

I retained my salesman grin. "Well, Mr Davison… That is your name, correct?"

He nodded slowly.

"Mr Davison, we've come to talk to you about the Lord Jesus Christ. He was a great man, didn't you know?" I smiled brightly. "Ah, and while I inform you more of this man's great deeds, would you like a muffin?" I indicated for Ayattil to offer him one from the container with a subtle flick of the head.

"Please." Yurrit responded. However, he stayed in position, and Ayattil had to cross the room to offer him the product. He readily gnawed on it while Ayattil retook his position.

"Mr Davison, when you look at the world, do you ever wonder about all the beauty that you see? The birds singing in the trees? Small children colouring the world with their wonderful laughter? The sound of French fries bubbling in thick grease?"

He pursed his lips and looked down to the ground. "Sometimes."

"Jesus Christ made those things possible, Mr Davison. Without him, this world would not even exist."

I could see from his expression that he wasn't buying the ploy, but all was fine as long as I could keep him unsuspecting. He certainly seemed to be enjoying his muffin.

"Do you know what else Jesus did for you?" I asked rhetorically. "He sacrificed his life for you, Mr Davison. So if you don't accept him into your heart, bad things will happen."

He raised an eyebrow. "Bad things, huh?"

"Yes, Mr Davison. Bad things."

I clicked my fingers, a skill I had quickly relearned with my thick Human fingers. Ayattil shut the muffin box and withdrew it. Yurrit blinked, noticing that the sole reason that he had allowed us into his house might vanish.

"Keep talking." He allowed, and Ayattil reopened the box, stepping over to hand him another muffin, which he took greedily.

I loudly cleared my throat, something that I found had to be done regularly in the Human morph to stop the voice from becoming husky. "Of course, Jesus Christ doesn't want bad things to happen. He loves each and every one of us!"

Yurrit remained silent, uninterested. He had obviously heard all of this before. He was just in it for the muffins. I flustered a little, because I hadn't rehearsed much more than I had already said. I expected to have had the job done by now.

"So… Yes, this Jesus Christ was a very nice person, but if you don't follow him on his path to righteousness, you will burn forever in a lake of fire. Sounds scary, doesn't it?"

I noticed Yurrit's eyes show just the slightest signs of insecurity, and instead of keeping up with the religious threats that I put his way, he turned his focus to Ayattil, who so far had been as silent as I had hoped.

"You are very quiet." He noted, narrowing his gaze and discarding our one-sided conversation entirely.

Ayattil, with that usual ill-earned glimmer of confidence, replied, "I'm not allowed to speak."

"And why not?" Yurrit demanded.

"Because otherwise I might let slip that there are officers outside waiting to arrest you, and that we're just undercover CI's trying to block off your exits to prevent escape. So I am just going to have to remain quiet. Isn't that right, sir?!" He smiled proudly to me.

My hand was plastered to my shaking head.

"Ah, very good." Yurrit said. "So why… Oh, shit!"

His eyes opened wide as he realised his mistake, that he had fallen into a trap. I was quick to react, making a lunge for the door while the situation buzzed through his head, but as I was about to grab the door handle he barged me aside and attempted to pull it open, even as I shuffled forward awkwardly to block it.

((He's onto us!)) I yelled to the officers outside. ((He's trying to escape!))

Yurrit growled and yanked again at the door as I forced myself between them, but with a firm punch to my jaw I was easily forced aside, and he was able to open the door wide enough to escape back into the main hallway.

Just as the front door caved in, followed by the heavy sound of pounding hooves.

I pulled myself up from the floor, clutching my aching jaw and already beginning to demorph. Ayattil wasn't far behind, and in the meantime I gave him a few choice words for his buffoonery.

Yurrit could perhaps outrun me in my bumbling human form, but he couldn't outrun a pair of well-trained Andalites. As I finished demorphing and headed into the corridor, I heard them talking in another room a little further into the house. The officers had captured him and led him into a more open space. Yurrit was still yelling, aggrieved at having being caught.

I entered the new room and immediately took note of the surroundings. There was no real difference in design or layout to the living room, but this room made it much more apparent that the resident was in fact an Andalite in disguise and not just a regular grubby Human. All around, I could see small pieces of Andalite technology, out-of-place in the run-down dwelling. Instruments glimmered, panels flashed, and there was a gentle, almost soothing buzz radiating from all around.

In the centre stood Yurrit, arms at his side, teeth gritting, and a tail blade pressed inches from his throat. The two officers were stood either side of him, holding him in position, reading his rights and just ready to detain him.

Rismull turned to look at me, rather annoyed. ((Oh, so there you are, Nicalor. Didn't think you would show up.))

I had now completely finished demorphing, as had Ayattil who was tapping his hooves in the corridor behind me. ((Sorry if I made it seem a bit rushed.)) I excused.

Rismull sighed and returned his main eyes to Yurrit, though he continued to speak to me. ((Next time, we'll do things our way. And you had better not tell anyone that we succumbed to your inane idea.))

I rolled my eyes and scraped a hoof impatiently on the worn laminate flooring. ((You got him, didn't you? The plan worked flawlessly.))

Mullken, the second officer, glared scornfully. ((Just get on with your work, Nicalor. We haven't got all day. Rismull, get the Andacuffs.))

Yurrit squirmed slightly, but with a blade at his throat he knew that there was no realistic escape.

((You have the right to demorph, Yurrit-Hamirk-Hallgorran,)) Mullken granted him. ((But any sign of resistance will end with you getting a rather nasty cut. I wouldn't advise it.))

Yurrit groaned angrily, but reluctantly began the transformation back to his true form. His tail, though scrawny and inoffensive, was one of the first features to reappear, but with two trained officer's ready to strike at any moment, he knew better than to try anything untoward.

Once fully Andalite, he was Andacuffed: His hands and the end of his tail were held together with a metallic grip. He grumbled and lamented, making his cases for innocence, but even he knew that his efforts were futile. While the officers were busy with that, I made a start on inspecting the room.

To be perfectly honest, there wasn't much of interest. The Andalite technology present was mostly standard communication devices, portable entertainment pieces such as hologramatic books, and a single portable computer. What's more, I could find no stolen foods. I checked the walls and the floor, under the furniture, and did some further exploration around the house, but found nothing. I would have to come back later with the appropriate equipment from the van for a more thorough search.

The officers were now ready to move Yurrit outside, where he would be then taken into the city and a temporary cell. Ayattil and I squeezed past them in the hallway as we headed back to the room filled with Andalite technology for a review of our situation.

((Thank you for your help.)) Rismull griped, not so much a thank you as more of a sneer for our - or Ayattil's - earlier mistake.

((No problem, Rismull. Could you do me a favour and seal off the building?)) I asked.

Rismull looked plainly disgruntled, but he looked back to Mullken who gave a curt nod.

((Fine.)) He said.

((Good.)) I responded with an instinctual hoist of the nose.

He shook his head disdainfully. ((I can't stand you CI's. Always so damned smug…))

I glared at the low-rank officer angrily for the suggestion that I was, in any way, smug. ((Hey, why don't you-!))

A buzz rang loudly from behind us. It came from the bedroom. We dropped our pointless bickering and moved our attention, stepping out of the hallway to inspect the source of the noise.

It was a hologrammatic communication device, sat atop a bedside table at the far end of the room. A small blue lightbulb was flashing vigorously on its front, indicating that someone was trying to get through for contact.

I noticed Yurrit flinch from behind Rismull, who himself looked unsure. I smiled and clicked my fingers, bringing Ayattil to my side.

((Fetch the recorder, Ayattil. Quickly now!))

((Yes, sir!))

I looked to Rismull again as Ayattil hurried outside to the van. ((Keep Yurrit here a little longer. Perhaps we could get some useful information from whoever is calling. We still have more miscreants to catch.)) He nodded in return and pulled Yurrit forward, who was hunched forward and staring down at his hooves, rightfully keeping quiet.

Ayattil returned quickly, and our luck held out enough for the attempted call to continue, the loud, jangling buzz still echoing through the house from the bedroom. I ordered Ayattil to stay out of the room and far down the corridor, lest he give us away (again), and asked the officers to keep their Shredders aimed at Yurrit as he stood in the centre of the room to answer the call, whilst remaining out of obvious sight, themselves. When they were in position, I walked to the bedside table and attached to the communication device a small black cube used for perfectly recording hologrammatic messages. I trotted out of the room, out of sight, and gave the officers the order to proceed.

((Remember, Yurrit,)) Rismull called out to the detainee, temporarily out of his Andacuffs but under full supervision. ((Any subtle indication that we are here from you, and you get a tail-full of Shredder fire.))

Yurrit sneered at Rismull over his shoulder. ((Okay. Whatever.))

((Answer the call.))

Yurrit, still appearing rather shaken, took a deep breath. ((Accept communication. Yurrit-Hamirk-Hallgorran receiving.))

The communicator device flashed up instantly, delivering a bright blue glow throughout the bedroom. I could not see the hologram that appeared, being hidden out of sight, but I saw the noticeable tremble in Yurrit's hind legs and the panicked twitch as all four eyes focused their attention.

((It's about time you answered!)) Boomed the voice of the hologram whose face I could not see.

Yurrit remained silent, unsure and still full in the knowledge that any hint of our presence would result in Shredder fire. Not death (us Andalites are past such brutalities), but a nasty scar that would haunt his backside for the rest of his life.

((Am I speaking to a mute? Answer me, Yurrit! What took you so long?)) The voice continued.

((Sir!)) Yurrit grunted, standing straight and tall. ((I… uh…))

I noticed the officers cocking their weapons. They sensed a giveaway.

((Yes, Yurrit?))

((The eggs are overdone, sir!)) Yurrit blurted. ((The eggs are overdone!))

Rismull and Mullken hesitated at the outburst, uncertain as to whether it was a giveaway or not.

We got our answer soon enough. After a moment of confused silence, an abrupt bang shook the bedroom, and the glow of the hologram vanished instantly. The three of us, now uninterested in hiding, turned our heads fully around the corner to gaze inside, to find out exactly what had exploded.

Mullken was quick to once again restrain Yurrit, who had still been stood in the centre of the room the whole time, placing his tail blade to the miscreant's neck and putting him back in the Andacuffs with Rismull's eventual aid.

((What was that?!)) Rismull demanded. ((Some code?))

((No, I was just warning you not to overdo the eggs.)) Yurrit grumbled sarcastically. ((Of course it was a code, you idiot!))

Rismull glared hideously. ((You're lucky I don't use this Shredder to shave your head, Yurrit.))

((I'd still be twice as attractive as you!)) Yurrit retaliated.

I ignored their petty argument and explored the source of the explosion. The communicator device, once a glistening white semi-globular feature, was now a black, charred pile of wreckage, smoke slowly rising to the ceiling. I sighed in frustration, seeing my (rather expensive) recording mechanism similarly ruined and unusable. I rummaged through the pile, but found everything totally obliterated.

Communication devices such as Yurrit's were standard pieces owned by most Andalites, both on Earth and on the home world. They were not built with a self-destructing ability. Not even deluxe models had that. The explosion had been caused from the other end of the call, by whoever Yurrit was talking to, and it was deliberately messy enough to destroy any recording equipment attached.

The technology to destroy someone else's communication device from afar was not one readily available to petty criminals, such as I took Yurrit to be. Whoever he was talking to was rich enough to afford it, or cunning and clever enough to steal it.

But now I had nothing to go on. My recorder had been destroyed, and none of us had seen the hologram's face. I slumped, deep in thought.

((So it's him again.)) I heard Mullken say from behind.

I halted my pondering and looked to him, standing up straight. ((Excuse me?))

The officers had Yurrit under full control now, and looked about ready to take him away. Mullken, however, held a knowing stare at the wreckage I had just examined.

((I thought he had disappeared.)) He muttered.

((Who?)) I forced, walking closer to him. ((You know who that was?))

He rubbed at his chin and closed his main eyes. ((I recognised the voice. He was well-known to our department about two-to-four years ago. We knew he was pulling all the strings, but we never caught him in the act. We could never convict him. But once we busted a taco den two years ago, we lost all trace of him. He vanished. We thought he'd made enough profit to give up the game for good and live a life of luxury back on the home world. Quite obviously, we were wrong.))

I urged forward, spreading my arms. ((Well come on! Who is he? What's his name?))

((His name is Hoketh-Perrulii-Tugesh, and he ran the largest Andalite criminal organisation on Earth. By the looks of it, he still is.))