Author's note: Again, a HUGE thanks to anonymous reviewer Rhys for the new title.
‹Well, we have air, but no power. The asteroids drained the ship of power. We are falling towards a black hole.›
Esplin was only dimly aware of Elfangor's thought-speak at first. His head was pounding—again—as he struggled to remember where he was.
"Oh. That's not good."
The human's voice … Loren. Who was not Tarak. Because she'd tried to shoot him.
Right. Tarak gone … and then the Blade ship damaged … and then he had Elfangor, he was going to kill him! but then that sudden impact had thrown off his aim … and then there was the spinning and the lack of air and not being able to breathe …
But he was breathing now. There was air. Okay. Good. Although the lack of power meant there was no gravity, which was considerably disorienting. But at least the danger had passed.
‹If we fall into the black hole it will crush us down to the size of a carbon atom. The ship, all of us, crushed to the size of a single atom.›
Or maybe it hadn't.
By this time Alloran had also regained consciousness, and his mind seized on the idea of falling victim to the black hole. He welcomed death, for it would mean the end of his humiliating imprisonment.
‹Oh no you don't,› Esplin barked at him. ‹We are not dead yet.› He quickly scanned Alloran's memories, and an idea slowly began to take shape in his mind.
"Yeah, we learned about black holes in school."
Yes. Esplin definitely had an idea. And if Elfangor would put aside his insufferable Andalite pride, it just might work.
‹There is only one way out, Andalite.›
Elfangor whirled around, cocking his tail to strike with startling suddenness.
‹Don't be a fool, Elfangor,› Esplin said irritably, quelling the momentary jolt of panic that had initially run through him. ‹What will be gained by you and me slashing each other up with these excellent Andalite tails?›
‹You have a better idea?› Elfangor retorted, not lowering his tail one inch. ‹Because I can think of a lot of good reasons to go tail-to-tail with you.›
Esplin searched his host's mind for a suitable retort. It wasn't hard to find. The cantankerous war-prince was still brimming with resentment for the young aristh.
Keeping one stalk eye fixed on his enemy's poised blade, Esplin forced a laugh. ‹You blame me for all your own failings? I'm not the one who left his friend back on the Taxxon world, trapped in that vile worm's body. I'm not the one who disobeyed his prince's orders and let ten thousand Yeerks escape. A bit of disobedience that helped cause poor old Alloran's downfall.›
The young aristh deflated visibly. He didn't appreciate the reminder.
‹You have something to say, Yeerk?› he said grudgingly.
‹Yes. We are falling toward a black hole in a dead ship. But we have a way out.› Esplin paused for dramatic effect. ‹The Time Matrix.›
‹In case you haven't noticed, Visser,› Elfangor sneered, ‹the Time Matrix is strapped to the outside of the ship. The outside.› He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‹In fact, it's probably drifting free. It was held in place with energy ropes. Those are gone.›
‹Gravity,› Esplin reminded him. ‹There should be just enough attraction between the ship and the Time Matrix to keep it close.›
‹How do you propose getting to it?›
‹We would have to work together, Andalite.› He peered closely at Elfangor, trying to gauge his reaction. ‹And quickly.›
‹Work together?›
‹One of us will have to be reeled outside. On a rope or cable. Someone will have to hold that rope. And someone else will have to be on the end of that rope.›
The Andalite gave a derisive snort. ‹And do what? Pull the Time Matrix in through the hatch? That will mean losing all our air again. We don't have force fields anymore.›
‹Yes. It will be do-or-die. We can use the air hoods for an emergency five minutes.›
Elfangor stared stupidly. ‹What air hoods?›
‹You forget I control Alloran,› Esplin smugly reminded him. ‹And this was his ship. I know all the ship's secrets. There is a small supply of emergency hoods. Alloran kept them for just such an occasion.›
Elfangor appeared to think it over.
‹Here are my terms,› he said at last. ‹I will go outside. You hold the rope.›
Esplin barked out a cynical laugh. ‹And when you reach the Time Matrix you'll activate it and disappear, leaving me behind.›
‹No. I would not leave Loren ... I mean, the humans. Search Alloran's mind. He knows. You'll see it's true.›
A quick scan of Alloran's memory confirmed it. Evidently, the young fool still clung to a streak of sentimentality. It would no doubt be the death of him someday.
Quite soon, in fact, if Esplin had his way.
‹I see it!› Elfangor called from the end of their makeshift rope. ‹It's wedged in place by the engine pylons. Going after it.›
Esplin turned the end of the rope over in his hands. All he had to do was simply let go, and the insufferable aristh's fate would be sealed. Elfangor would be stuck floating helplessly beside the ship, with mere minutes to go until his oxygen supply ran out.
An utterly foolish idea, of course. If Elfangor didn't bring in the Time Matrix they would all die.
Still, he enjoyed the thought that he could do it. If he wanted to.
And the fact remained that Elfangor would never agree to use the Matrix to go to the Yeerk home world. Nor would he be willing to return to the Taxxon planet. Could they possibly agree upon a suitable destination before the air hoods depleted?
Not likely.
Elfangor had to go.
‹Okay. Pull!›
Even as he pulled on the rope, reeling the Andalite back in, Esplin readied his tail to strike—
—but his impatience betrayed him at the last moment, for in pulling Elfangor and the Time Matrix through the hatch, he yanked a little too hard and threw himself slightly off balance.
‹Well done, Andalite,› Esplin said lightly, hoping to divert Elfangor's attention long enough to restabilize himself and then attack. ‹Thirty seconds left to activate this thing.›
But Elfangor had evidently expected to be double-crossed. ‹Go ahead, Yeerk. Make your move,› he leered.
Twenty-five seconds left.
Twenty-four.
Think, Esplin!
He didn't even know how to operate the Time Matrix!
No choice. Had to figure it out. Had to figure it out and then use it before the Andalite could—
‹Touch,› said Elfangor. ‹The Matrix responds to touch. I think if we touch and form a mental link, we can—›
That was all Esplin needed to hear. He kicked off against the wall behind him, propelling himself toward the Time Matrix.
He wasn't sure what he expected to happen when he touched the great white sphere, but he definitely was not prepared for reality itself to explode into a dazzling multidimensional array of fragments that sent his mind reeling.
He could see everything, literally every thing, from every possible vantage point—past, future, inside, outside. It was like seeing for the first time, all over again! The wholly new kind of sensory input, the sheer information overload ...
He could watch his own mind think!
He could watch the way his own Yeerk brain interacted with Alloran's Andalite brain. He could see the way Alloran made futile attempts to resist his control … and he could see that Alloran, too, was taking all this in, beginning to watch their minds work together as well.
And now Esplin began to panic, because he'd been very careful never to allow Alloran access to his own thoughts. Not after the Aldrea incident, when his twin had pointed out what a terrible idea it had been. No, this had to stop.
What was he trying to do again?
Oh yes. Yeerk home world.
He carefully sketched out every detail of the home world in his imagination: the stormy green sky … the immense pools, much larger than the artificial pools he was used to … the Garnuds and Dralin tongues and other odd creatures that struggled for survival on the planet's arid surface …
But now came an assault of new images: mottled blue grass—a bright yellow sun lighting up an orange-red sky—Elfangor was directing the Time Matrix toward the Andalite home world!
Despite himself, Esplin felt excitement welling up within him. He'd always wanted to see the Andalite world.
No! Terrible idea. He'd be hopelessly outnumbered there. It would be practically a death sentence.
But now Alloran was doggedly focusing on Elfangor's images of the Andalite planet, reinforcing them with what little strength he could bring to bear.
‹No!› Esplin shrieked. ‹You're not here! You don't exist! This mind is mine!›
And indeed, Alloran's already-tenuous mental link to the Time Matrix withered away as his lungs began to gasp. The air hood had apparently run out. It would be a minute or so before the lack of oxygen began to affect Esplin's own Yeerk brain, but for now his mental link was intact. Still, there wasn't much time …
And then, unexpectedly, a fourth mind added her own images to the jumble … bright green grass … pale blue sky … strange, inexplicable structures …
And slowly, surely, the Jahar grew fainter, more distant.
We're going! Esplin thought. But to where? Who's winning out?
Out of nowhere came a laugh that seemed to shake the bowels of time itself …
and then Esplin was there.
There being, by all appearances, the Yeerk home world.
‹Yes!› he exulted. ‹I did it!›
He scanned the area, realizing belatedly that he should have been more specific about where on the Yeerk planet he wanted to go. For he seemed to be nowhere near any of the major Yeerk pools or their adjoining surface stations.
On the bright side, there were no signs of a battle going on up in orbit. No shredder fire streaked the sky, no silent bursts of light that would have signaled exploding fighters. His timing, at least, seemed to have been all right.
Unless, of course, he was simply too late.
But now that he was paying attention, the sky wasn't perfectly normal either. Up above, it seemed typical enough, the murky green sky flickering with static electricity. But further towards the horizon, it simply … stopped.
Beyond that were colorful patches that were completely out of place.
‹What in yaolin is this trickery?› he demanded.
‹Don't ask me,› Alloran snorted. ‹You were the one who decided to use a time machine of wholly unknown origin instead of letting us die in peace. Who knows what kind of effects could have occurred?›
‹Was I talking to you?› Esplin said irritably.
Alloran fell silent.
Esplin's stalk eyes scanned the area again, trying to make sense of it. The ground, too, seemed to dissolve into patches past a certain point.
Gradually he became aware of a faint whirring sound that he vaguely recognized, but couldn't place at first. Then, in the midst of the dry, spiky Yeerkish grass, a familiar yellow-and-black shape caught his eye … and then another.
‹Well!› he said with delighted surprise. ‹It's certainly been a while since I last saw you two. Jarex! Larex! Come here!›
The Mortrons made their way through the tall grass, bending it under their wheels. It was slow going, as they had not evolved for such terrain, but eventually they rolled to a stop beside him.
He wondered about the rest of the creatures that had been part of his menagerie on Visser Two's Blade ship. No one on the Yeerk world had seemed interested in looking after them, so he'd had to turn them loose into the wild and hope for the best. But Jarex and Larex, at least, seemed to have adapted all right.
Well, now that he was a visser he should have more clout. Surely he could put some useless peon on pet duty.
Anyway. That wasn't the priority right now. First, he needed to reach civilization so he could contact the Council of Thirteen and warn them of the impending Andalite threat.
And he should probably go investigate the strange colors in the distance.
As he approached the nearest patch, with the Mortrons following closely behind, he began to see that it represented an entirely different world.
Here, the grass was shorter, softer, and mostly bright blue, although in some places it was red or green. The trees grew tall, instead of the gangly, disk-shaped trees that carpeted parts of the Yeerk landscape, and they were just as colorful as the grass. Overhead, the orange sky was streaked with gold.
‹It's our world,› Alloran said in disbelief. ‹The Andalite world. How is that possible?›
It was completely eerie. Behind them was the drab Yeerk world, looking relatively normal. But just ahead, an invisible vertical barrier seemed to cleave both ground and sky in two, cleanly separating the Yeerk and Andalite environments.
Tentatively, he stuck a hoof across the line dividing the two worlds. Nothing exceptional happened. The Andalite grass tasted perfectly ordinary. It was admittedly quite satisfying, as it had been quite some time since Alloran had tasted the grass of home … and, tapped into Alloran's brain as he was, Esplin experienced the same pleasure right along with him.
A movement in the distance caught Esplin's eye.
Looking along the dividing line, he saw that it terminated at a pool of water fed by a waterfall—an impossibly placed waterfall with no discernible source. It just stood there awkwardly, not part of a continuous ridge or connected to any higher ground whatsoever. A tower of grass-covered rock and falling water.
On the far side of the pool was an even more alien landscape, the grass a deep green, the sky a cloudy pale blue.
And there, by the waterfall, he could faintly make out two figures: an Andalite … and a human.
‹You two did this,› he realized. ‹So. None of us prevailed in the end. This never was the true Yeerk planet. The Time Matrix simply created this … mashed-together mockup … of three different worlds.›
He scanned the area again. Yes. The patches in the sky aligned with those on the ground. And now he realized they weren't quite as haphazardly arranged as he'd originally assumed. No, they formed a recognizable pattern …
‹A hyper spiral,› Alloran realized, and then regretted it. Why should he be helping the Yeerk?
But his subconscious mind kept working away, and Esplin could easily follow his thought process. Yes. A hyper spiral. And at the center of the spiral, the Time Matrix, sustaining this odd little universe.
Could he go straight there and use the Matrix to get away from this mess? What would that do?
He thought harder about it, piecing together the fragments of Alloran's knowledge. Though Alloran had never been much of a scientist, physics was arguably his strongest subject.
So. If Esplin used the Matrix, this mini-universe would collapse, no doubt about that. Elfangor and Loren might be returned to the doomed Jahar, or they might be pulled along with him in a sort of wake effect. He wasn't quite sure which.
But he could see them right now, over there by the waterfall. Seemingly defenseless. And now that he had Jarex and Larex with him, he suddenly realized, he would be more than a match for Elfangor. The human of course would pose no threat at all.
Yes, he decided. Best to eliminate them here and now. Now that he had the chance.
Signaling the Mortrons to follow him, Esplin galloped swiftly toward the pool.