November 17th, 1999

It was, perhaps, the most foolish decision I've ever made.

Not perhaps. It was the most foolish decision I've ever made.

I made it to the car wash less than half an hour after I completed my last entry. Tobias has told me in the past that the car wash is the only publicly accessible entrance that he's seen Hork-Bajir enter. It is covered, private, and large enough to accommodate trucks used to transport my people. It was not difficult to gain entrance.

I left my diary on the roof. It was foolish to bring along. Then I headed inside.

Gaining entrance is never the difficult part. My DNA is included in the short list of species permitted by the Gleet Biofilters, and my intelligence allows me to pass convincingly as a Hork-Bajir Controller.

And yet, this was my first time in the Yeerk Pool. I'd never taken my squadron on missions to the Yeerk Pool before. I knew it was too dangerous to breach the very center of their operations, their very metropolis. Not that I doubted a successful raid there would be fruitful, but the chances of a raid being successful were slim.

Mostly, I was afraid.

Visser One is a maniac. He is unpredictable, lethal, and impatient. If a mission was not successful, I knew his retribution would be both violent and inescapable. And impossible to imagine.

He, however, was not the only thing that frightened me. I've seen limited reactions from the Animorphs after returning from a mission in the Yeerk Pool. I know they are brave, gifted, experienced fighters. I also know that any time they've gone to the Yeerk Pool in the past, visits from Tobias fell off in frequency considerably. Usually it takes him a week after they return to fly by, and even after that much time, he still appears ruffled.

So perhaps I had been avoiding it.

But now I had no choice.

I heard muffled echoes of screams as I stepped onto the somewhat gothic stone staircase that led down into the pool. Sweat broke out across my brow, I twiddled my fingers, I felt my knees tremble. Yes, I was afraid, but not so afraid to turn back. More afraid of the fallout from breaking a promise to Telf than afraid of that wretched place. I descended slowly, building the character of fearless Hork-Bajir Controller, straightening my posture, lengthening my gait. I was just thinking of some alibi to tell anyone who asked me why I was outside all alone and unarmed when I breached the threshold of the hell.

It was horrible.

I could never have expected it would be like that. More massive than I could have possibly imagined, with Taxxons eating voraciously into the dome's walls, expanding, making tunnels. It wasn't just the amount of wailing cries, terrified screams, begging, rationalizing, howling, blood, and torture, but the fact that all that was mixed with joy. Humans sat off in a corner in old, repossessed furniture watching a children's animated movie on TV, laughing and singing along to a dancing crab. Taxxons fed greedily, slurping and shrieking their satisfaction, on a large supply of livestock viscera probably donated by a human Controller who owned a butcher shop, or perhaps a slaughterhouse.

And Hork-Bajir. My people, infested, engaged in lazy games and training exercises, grudgingly dragging uninfested, kicking Controllers from the cages to the pool, shaking hands and slapping the backs of them once they were infested again.

I scuttled away from the pool. I had to stay focused on my mission. Yes, the medical wing, I needed to find the medical wing. Surely Hork-Bajir, Taxxons, humans even had accidents in this poorly constructed expanse. Surely injuries were accumulated. And, as numerous as the Controllers I saw were, bodies were still a precious commodity. They would treat them well. Yeerk medicine may be one of their best disciplines.

A red cross. Human iconography to denote a Yeerkish concept. Too easy.

I made my way across the pool. Tried to stay tunnel-visioned, focused on my one mission, my one goal, and I was almost halfway when I heard:

"There, be good human. Not so much scary with Berp here."

I felt my ear stretch toward the voice, so heartbreaking, so comforting, a thick veneer over mounds of disgust and terror. I slowed my gait involuntarily. I stopped.

"Berp, you have a funny name."

"Berp know that. Molly tell Berp every day."

I closed my eyes in defeat and turned toward the conversation. Not ten feet away, a large, metal cage. Insulting, dehumanizing, like a kennel, a thing made of wrought iron bars lined with hay to absorb any number of bodily fluids.

Inside were half a dozen people. A few humans with their arms stretched through the bars, screaming, threatening. But behind them, a single Hork-Bajir female was seated, coddling a human child in her lap.

A scream echoed from across the pool. A human female had attempted to escape, and a Hork-Bajir Controller had brought her down with a shot from a Dracon Beam. Even from this far away, her moans and defeated cries could be heard, like an animal certain he's about to die.

The human child in the cage whimpered and craned her neck to find the source of the disturbance, but Berp gently touched her cheek and turned her back.

"Molly, how many fingers this?" Berp asked. She held up her hand, thumb and pinky folded down.

Molly's bottom lip was quivering, the fear like a poison spreading, saturating, but Berp keeping the human safe and distracted in a small bubble of affection.

"Three fingers."

"Three, yes, three. Berp forget what come before three."

"Two."

"What come after three, Molly?"

"Four comes after three."

"And then?"

"Five, six, seven, eight nine ten."

Molly's lip was no longer quivering.

"So many numbers! Berp can't remember!"

"Berp, I tell you every time we come here!"

"Yes, yes, Berp bad to remember."

"I like telling you."

"Berp like to learn."

The child pressed her cheek against Berp's chest, shutting her eyes tightly, as Berp loosely contained her with careful, gentle, deadly arms.

I didn't know what to do. My mouth was agape, and at the very least, I was making it more than plain I was no Yeerk. I ducked behind the cage to regain myself, to reestablish character.

After counting to ten multiple times did nothing, I felt the cage rattle. I turned around.

"Stay out of the way, human scum. You. It's your turn." Above me, two large, imposing Hork-Bajir males had their hands around each of Berp's arms, their wrist blades in her throat. She growled but went peacefully.

"It's all right, we'll look after her," a human female in a soccer jersey and shorts said to Berp.

"Monsters! Assholes!" a human male in a three-piece suit yelled, rushing at the Controllers. One of them hit him in the chest with the palm of his hand and he stumbled back.

"You just wait! They'll come back one day, and it'll be your turn! You'll suffer thousands of times worse than we have!" He coughed out, slowly coming to his feet.

"Brad, shut the hell up!" The human female hissed as she wrapped the small child in her arms, stroking her brown curls, as the Controllers slammed the door shut and locked it with a simple padlock. The human jerked her head, making eye contact with me, and I fell to the ground to escape her gaze.

"Telf," I said to myself. "You're here for Telf."

I rose to my feet, brushed myself off, and resumed my long, arrogant gait. I stepped out from behind the cage, saw the Controllers dragging a thrashing but silent Berp to her fate, and then I saw the rest.

Dozens more cages. Hundreds, maybe.

Some filled exclusively with humans. Some filled exclusively with Hork-Bajir, the worst with Taxxons, the most vicious and hungry writhing and crashing into each other in their uncontainable natural state. All shaking with fury, shifting and moving with the combined force of their cries and anguish. Lined up not only in an unbroken circle around the pool with at least a 50-foot radius, but lined two and three, sometimes four deep as well. The reach of the Yeerk empire was farther than I had ever guessed. Hundreds of controllers here just now, for the two or three hours it took their Yeerks to feed, late at night. How many shifts of Yeerks were there? And they returned every three days…the overall number of Controllers was staggering, my mind swimming in unbelievable numbers, nightmarish calculations.

I had to do something.

"Telf," I said a little more loudly to myself.

The red cross. Just there, not two dozen yards away.

"Telf," I repeated, turning back to the cages, the prisoners, the poor souls it was my responsibility to protect.

Just padlocks. Not even chains. I looked down at my wristblades. With enough force, I could break maybe two or three of them before they broke. And with my elbow blades, my knee blades…

"Telf," I whimpered to myself. "Oh, my Telf, I'm so sorry. I failed you."

Nausea flared up in me, guilt ebbed through my veins, excuses and second-guesses. Couldn't you do both? My hearts screamed. Get the medicine first, then free as many as you can.

What medicine? I don't know what it will take to get his eyes back, what he needs. I'll probably have to make an order, come back and collect at a later date. I can't do both. It won't be that easy.

Won't you even try?

No. If I try to do both, I shall attain neither. I know these decisions. My life is these decisions.

I followed the circumference of the circle, only now realizing I had to choose which prisoners I was going to free. Should I go after a cage full of Hork-Bajir? A cage full of humans? A cage mixed with each? My heart, my purpose screamed Hork-Bajir, my brain screamed humans, so much easier to instruct and organize, and my gut screamed combination.

Free at least a few of your own, and free some you can mobilize. Cause chaos, Toby. Release as much diversity as you can.

I stepped up to a cage full of humans and Hork-Bajir, at least half a dozen of each. Without a pause I pulled back my arm and sliced through the padlock. It gave way easier than I thought it would.

"Careful," I hissed as they all shifted forward, worried, hopeful, energized. "Do it slowly, let me free a few more cages before you open the door, do you hear me?" I glanced around, spotted the cage full of elastically, nuclearly charged Taxxons four cages away. "Them," I hissed. "When I free them, open the door."

The humans nodded, my people whimpered.

"Arm yourselves, if you can. Free more, if you can. The more hell we can unleash, the longer it will take them to contain it."

"Who are you?" An old woman in a crocheted shawl asked.

"A friend, but only an instantaneous one. The rest is up to you." I yanked off the padlock as discreetly as I could, let it slip from my fingers a few paces away.

I freed another cage, repeated the instructions. Another, this one more full of Hork-Bajir, but they knew and listened to the humans, who hushed them, relayed my plans in the slow, monosyllabic way my people required. I thought I would do two more, the cage with Molly, and another containing a Hork-Bajir male who'd had half of his face burned off.

"You know, females never get assigned cage duty," a voice sounded behind me. I turned, filling with trembling, bowel-loosening fear.

A human and Hork-Bajir Controller were standing before me, aiming Dracon Beams at my hearts.

"My mistake," I said quietly, turning back around to head away, to hide my dry mouth, my trembling knees. The Hork-Bajir grabbed my shoulder.

"Visser One instituted that mandate when he got promoted. That was a while ago. You should know that by now. Why are you here? Shouldn't you be scheduled to clean-up duty?"

"On my break," I said, biting my tongue when I heard the pathetic whimper my voice had become. I glanced behind the Controllers, saw the humans in cages watching me carefully, waiting for signals.

"Break?" The human laughed. "Do you remember the last time we got a break, Hissim?"

"Yeerk garfrat don't get breaks," he said, tightening his hold on my shoulder.

A flash of images and ideas burned through my mind. Regrets, denials, fears. This was more than personal failure. My people, leaderless, because of my impulsiveness, my wretched commitment to my arbitrary mate. The war lost, all because of my own impetuousness.

"Do it now, humans!" I cried. "Do it now!"

Three cages opened simultaneously, the wild, angry inhabitants spilling forth.

"Hold her, Hissim! Don't let her get away!" I was already running, but Hissim leapt onto my back and pinned me to the floor. I writhed, I moaned, I pulled, but he was stronger than me, and the consequences of his failure could very well be worse than the consequences of mine.

"You're the one, aren't you?" He whispered into my ear. "Garfat! You're the one who leads all those raids, who gets us into so much trouble with the Visser. Well, krodil missy, I don't know why you came here all by yourself but please accept my undying gratitude for doing so. I will enjoy watching you suffer."

I couldn't see what unfolded. I don't know how many got away. I think they got another two cages open, I think some were shot and killed, I think some made it up the stairs. I don't know who. If it was Hork-Bajir, did it even make any difference? How would they know where to go, how could they find the valley all on their own?

I started sobbing beneath the weight of Hissim. Crying at my own failure, my impending death, my stupidity. I remembered how I started the diary just so people in the future would know what kind of leader I was. Now I wanted the damn thing burned, any evidence of my presence on this planet destroyed.

What a fool I had become.

Hissim received additional support to contain me not long after. Three more Hork-Bajir males, twisting my arms behind my back, yanking me painfully to my feet, forcing me up a long staircase that curled around the circumference of the dome, up to a glass-walled office.

Visser One's domain.

I wouldn't beg for anything but him, anything else, even though that's the only thing I wanted. I wouldn't beg at all. I'd lost my intelligence, but I wouldn't lose my dignity.

They shoved a boxy, steel chair out from against the wall, pushed me down into it, chained my arms down. "Stay still. Now you get to wait." One of the voices said. I made eye contact with none of them, I wasn't even totally sure how many there were.

"They say waiting's the worst part," one of them guffawed. "At least when it starts, you know it's almost over."

"But with him, it's never almost over."

"Never."

"Never."

I sat still, crossed my legs, tried to think of any escape, any chance I had. There was nothing. They'd kill me before I could move, and perhaps that was the best choice I had. But no, as long as there is life, there is hope, I recalled from an old Earth saying.

I remembered another, from a dense speculative fiction I'd read months ago:

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

The fear was eating me alive, feeding on any shred of intellect I had left. I couldn't have that. My intellect was my only strength. Without it…

I heard hooves clopping in behind me. I swallowed back a whimper, a moan, any vocalization that would give me away. I clenched my kegels and my bowels to keep from urinating or defecating myself, I sat as stiff as I was able, trying to appear as relaxed as I could. So impossible to achieve both.

(So this is the dreaded vigilante,) he laughed.

I must not fear, I told myself.

(Have you infested it yet?)

Fear is the mind-killer.

"No, Visser. We were certain you'd like to punish her yourself."

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

(Well, for once you fools get something right. I will enjoy this very much.)

I will face my fear.

He stepped out in front of me, an aging Andalite, the star of one of my least favorite stories. (Oh yes, this will bring me great joy.)

I will face my fear.

"You should be more than grateful they didn't infest me," I said, and somehow my voice had reclaimed its vigor, its surety. "If they had, you'd have no one left to interrogate."

The Visser narrowed his eyes at me. (It doesn't talk like a Hork-Bajir,) he noted.

"That's because it's not," I said, brushing a pile of nothing off of my knees.

I finally breathed, filling my lungs with air, straightening my shoulders so my lungs would achieve full capacity. I glanced around me. Seven Hork-Bajir males, all glancing at each other uncertainly.

(Where did you find it, again?)

"Freeing hosts. Cutting through padlocks. All by herself," one of them said.

(Padlocks,) the Visser growled. (We still lock the cages with padlocks?)

"You said the energy expenditure for force fields was too—"

(Get out of my office!) He screamed, snapping his tail forward. Inches closer and he would have decapitated three of them. They could not scramble out the door fast enough.

But I kept my eyes on him. Amazing how calm I felt all of a sudden, either because I'd spontaneously accepted my fate, or because the blossoming seedling of story in my head was quickly growing into something…possible.

He paced back and forth a couple of times, regaining control, organizing his thoughts. I sat with my legs crossed, considering him thoughtfully as he did.

He turned back to me, suddenly pressing his tail blade against my throat. But this did not worry me. I was more than a criminal now. Now, I was a curiosity. He would have his questions answered before he killed me.

(Why don't you speak like one of them?) He repeated in a quieter tone than I knew he was capable of.

"Because I'm not one of them, Alloran-Semitur-Corrass."

His eyes broke into a mocking smile. (Impressive. You've done your research.)

"No, not research," I said. He leaned closer.

(If you're not one of them, then what are you?)

"I am an Arn," I said cautiously. If he didn't buy this, the rest was superfluous.

He laughed, pulled his tail blade away. (Yes, of course. The last survivor of the race I single-handedly wiped out. That's very clever of you, bandit.)

"Oh, I am no bandit. I'll sit here for two hours if I must, though I would wager that both of us are on tighter schedules than that."

He kept laughing. (All right, Arn. What is your name?)

"My name is Quatzhinnikon."

His tail blade was against my throat again, already becoming redundant. (You lie,) he hissed. (How did you learn that name?)

"Because my mother told it to me," I said, brushing his tail blade away. To my surprise, he obeyed.

(What is your game? Tell me what this is about, or I'll…no, why bother? Why am I wasting my time?) He slammed the communicator on his desk, twitching his tail impatiently. (Get me a Yeerk in here! This scum will be infested,) he said.

"Oh Visser, I wouldn't do that," I said.

(And why not?)

"Certainly you remember the precautions we took with our own bodies. If you infest me, a blood vessel in my brain bursts and I will die of cerebral hemorrhage," I said. "I wouldn't come down here without some kind of failsafe, would I?"

Yes. If I could stay uninfested, this might very well work.

A knock at the door, and a human female entered with a small drink cooler sloshing brown and silver liquid. "Visser, here is the—"

(Leave, at once,) he ordered. The human looked confused, but backed out of the door on tiptoes. I did not let my extreme relief and gratification show on my face.

He glared at me for almost two minutes, and I stared, pleased and polite, back at him.

(Say I believe you,) he said. (It's clear you're no Hork-Bajir, because none are so articulate, unless you're like that fool and his Andalite on the Hork-Bajir homeworld…but that's only happened once, and so many decades ago…and that name…) he said.

I swallowed deeply. Did he know about seers? And was he really so impetuous that he would just brush aside a possibility like that? But then I hushed myself. Seer or no, I should not have knowledge so specific from his past. Unless he knew about the Hork-Bajir affinity for generational stories, which was even more doubtful than his expertise in our seers.

(And any true Andalite, or even one of those wretched human bandits, would kill himself before he allowed himself to be stuck as a Hork-Bajir. I know Andalites, and I know how desperate the humans are. Far too proud for that. And you have ample opportunity for instantaneous suicide, if that is the case.) He gestured to my blades. Even chained down, I'd simply have to throw my knee back to impale myself.

"So I'm no Hork-Bajir, Andalite, or 'human bandit,' either."

He paused again. (So how did you get into a Hork-Bajir's body?)

"It's an old Arn tradition. I won't bore you with the details. I will say that yes, my Arn body did perish, but my essence did not, and I chose this body as my vessel. A proxy, if you will. To continue my cause."

(And what is your cause?)

"Well, I do feel a great deal of indebtedness to my creations," I said, gesturing freely, indicating the Hork-Bajir below him. "I consider it my duty to free them from your enslavement."

(That's it?)

"I suppose, yes, for now."

He shook his head. (That explains the raids on outlying bases, yes. But why did you come here?)

I smiled. "Because I wanted to see you, Visser."

(You know I am rarely this patient with prisoners,) he growled.

"Yes, I am aware. My apologies. I have an offer to make you."

He barked out a laugh. (What could you possibly offer me?)

"Freedom from political upheaval. And I know how valuable that is to you, at such a critical time in your reign as this."

(Political upheaval? From who, that idiot Visser Two?)

"No, Visser. From Visser One."

(I assure you, I am not the type of leader to sabotage myself.)

"Not you, Visser."

His smile slowly crumbled to a frown.

"Yes, you've doubted it yourself, haven't you? Of course. Your temper is debilitatingly short, your insight often suffers as a result, but you're no fool. You've worried, haven't you?" His eyes were furious. "Or at least wondered, I expect."

(Edriss is dead,) he vowed.

"Perhaps. But it was close, wasn't it? Those bandits took her, right at the end, didn't they? Yes. Very close."

(This speculation is pointless! Even if she escaped alive, she was minutes from starvation. Without Kandrona that we supply, she would have shriveled into dust just like the traitor she was!)

I gave him a comforting smile, allowed him to reach the conclusion before I offered it to him. He staggered back.

"Genetic engineering is our forte, if you don't remember. Not only did we single-handedly create and breed your shock troops, and mutate ourselves to resist your infestation, but we discovered the science necessary to cheat death itself," I paused, letting my words soak into him. "Do you really think the energy derived from your sun is that difficult for us to replicate?"

(This is ridiculous. Why am I indulging you?) He clawed at his desk, pulled out a short-range Dracon Beam from the top drawer. (Your lies were cute, Arn, but I'm through listening.)

A flame of fear leapt back into my belly, but I swallowed it back down. "You still haven't heard my offer, Visser."

He aimed the Dracon beam at my head, his brow quivering. (And what is that?)

"I'll kill her myself."

He smiled. (What is the purpose of harboring her in the first place? Surely you recognize how perilous that is. I may be lethal, but Edriss is far more diabolical. She'd sooner admit to her wrongdoings than ally herself with pathetic creatures like Arn and Hork-Bajir.)

"I believe you underestimate her survival instinct, Visser. We are her only source of Kandrona rays. Without us, she will perish. She knows she can't crawl back to you. Yes, you're lethal, and much less sympathetic than us."

(Sympathy? That's what's keeping her alive? You fools really are more predictable than I'd hoped.)

"Oh no, Visser. I assure you, until recently, it was a two-way street. She provided us ample data, intelligence, evidence. Some of which we've used recently and successfully."

Would he stop to question it? Would he know that Edriss' host was just as aware of those details as Edriss herself? Or had I already wrapped him around my finger?

(And now she's outlived her usefulness, even to you,) he sighed.

I relaxed. He bought it.

"Yes. Now you're far more valuable to us than her."

He considered for a moment, rubbing his jaw. He turned back to me, tail twitching playfully in the air. (What is she planning? I can get that much out of you even without infesting you. I can get more than that, too.)

I smiled and waved a hand at him. "Visser, if I'm forced to sacrifice this body to keep information from you, it's a necessary evil. A massive inconvenience, since the last time I backed up my ixcila was a week ago. I always hate getting caught up. And I don't mind just informing you. She's working to infiltrate this place. She's been trying to convince me to let her use a Hork-Bajir host for weeks now. She aims to assassinate you."

(Of course she does,) the Visser said diplomatically.

"And I wouldn't want you to lose any sleep about that."

(I won't. She wouldn't get close.)

"Weren't you the one that referred to her as 'diabolical,' Visser?" I asked. "Do you really believe she wouldn't figure out how to get close to you? Wasn't underestimating her the thing that got you into trouble last time?"

The Visser stepped back. Considered me. Laughed loudly.

(I must admit, Arn. Your story is wonderful. It's greatly entertained me. For that, I thank you.) He raised his weapon again.

"You'll never find where we moved," I growled. "You'll never kill her yourself. I let that child get caught once, and I don't repeat mistakes. Our security is unyielding."

(So I'm meant to count on your word that you'll follow through on your end of the deal?)

"Yes. I suppose you are. Either that, or sleep with one eye open."

(I always do.)

"But you never have to think about it, do you?"

He paused again. (What do you want? I assume letting you go isn't going to fulfill your price.)

"Like I said, Visser. My death would be a massive inconvenience, but no more than that."

(So why don't I kill you anyway?)

"How will I follow through on my end of the deal if I don't know I'm supposed to?"

He was in a place I knew he hated to be, stuck between his temper and his own grudging acknowledgement of his mortality and fallibility. He would be easier to deal with patient, but then again, Visser One was not known for his patience.

(You freed five cages worth of hosts before we stopped you. You'll be the first enemy who's wronged me, gotten caught, and lived to speak of it. That is a valuable prize.)

I laughed out loud. "And I am just supposed to take your word that those hosts were not killed, recaptured, or lost? That they escaped? Please, Visser."

(I'm taking you at your word,) he reminded me.

"The word of an Arn is historically much more valuable than the word of a Yeerk," I said. "No, Visser. My price is much higher."

(What do you want?)

Finally, I slowed my lightning intellect to consider.

How many could I take back with me? What number would make him laugh and shoot me, what number would make him glad I wasn't more demanding, what number would be just right?

Telf's eyes.

I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped myself. If I asked for Yeerkish medicine, my lie would be unveiled. If I truly was an Arn, I'd have all the medicine I'd need to upkeep my creations. Asking him for medicine to help would be redundant, pointless.

I slumped. I'd written myself into a corner.

No. I'd written myself to the only conclusion my conscience would allow. Through this venture, I'd discovered my true allegiance.

"Thirteen of my people," I said. One more than the number I lost in the attack on the valley.

(I'll give you seven.)

"I'm not leaving without thirteen."

He stared at me for a long moment, willing me to back down. But that was pointless. I'd gotten that far.

(Done. And if I hear anything about Edriss…)

"I assure you, Visser. You can rest easily. She will never threaten you again. However," I said cautiously, "Edriss has shared incredibly interesting, valuable information with me about your practices. Information," I said, holding up my hands in a nonthreatening display, "I assure you again, is safely stored back at the valley and in a number of vaults and safety deposit boxes throughout the city. I consider this deal to be our last, Visser. I promise that I will never disrupt your operation again. And if you decide to pursue me, to search for my people's safe haven on this planet in addition to your abominable, accelerating mission of infesting the humans despite my warnings, I will take Edriss' blackmail straight to the Council of Thirteen. Believe me. She's taught me how."

The Visser smiled. (I have no interest in a few dozen Hork-Bajir,) he said. (The war is almost over. I can wait until Earth is ours to kill you all.)

"Then unchain me and let's never see each other again," I said.

In a last attempt to upset me, the Visser gave me mostly children. In fact, this pleased me. As horrible as a lifetime of infestation is, I admit that I value young lives more than old ones. These Hork-Bajir will have kawatnoj, be free, do many great things before they die.

All because of me.

We have to wait on the roof of the carwash until sunset, when we can travel back to the valley. It was a difficult day, keeping them quiet despite their desire to celebrate, to thank me, keeping them still so none of them got heatstroke. Just because the Yeerks let us go doesn't mean that the humans wouldn't. As soon as the sun sets, I'm taking them back.

I should feel victorious. I should feel invincible.

But all I can do is imagine telling Telf that I failed him.