Chapter Twenty-Two
Jennor
PART ONE OF FOUR
The heat of battle was a serene place. There were no politics. There was no judgment. No subterfuge, no deception. Only honesty. Only rage. Only truth.
A Hork-Bajir lunged before me. He drew one arm over his head. He cocked the other back behind him. Prepared to strike at me using the most elementary and suicidal of attacks. He had advanced more quickly than I anticipated. Normally, Hork-Bajir advanced at a constant rate of twelve meters per second. This one approached at fifteen.
(Behind you!) I looked behind me. Another Hork-Bajir's wrist blade hovered right above my spinal cord, in a flashbulb moment of terror. I felt Taxxon breath all around me. Gnashing needle teeth clicked and slurped everywhere.
I glanced back at Trainer. His eyes were big. His eyebrows were furrowed.
I flicked my tail blade behind me and knocked the Hork-Bajir away. The blunt end of my blade left a narrow impression on his skull. He dropped. His eyes bulged. He was dead.
The Hork-Bajir before me discharged. All of that elastic force trapped in his arm tendons was released. When executed properly, the wrist blade and elbow blade were meant to intersect inside the victim. I sliced off both of his hands just before impact. I cut through his jugular. He exploded like a firework, blood bursting forth in a floral display. The focus of the Taxxons shifted.
We fought in battles like this regularly. I was different to the Yeerks. I was attacked more often. This did not bother me.
Nothing bothered me.
The battle ended in stalemate. Most of them did. Few asteroids were left unclaimed. Some, like this one, were still under dispute, divided and unenforced. We had lost two yards off of our front lines. Princes were optimistic. I started home with Trainer.
We normally fought every third day. Battles lasted a little less than three hours. Some weeks, we would have to fight extra days. Most of the time, we didn't. Scheduling was done by the Princes. Trainer said we were lucky to fight so seldom. I said, (Yes, sir.)
Very little had changed in our daily routines.
Few people had noticed the disappearance of Borrifum. We left traces of him on a battle field some time later. He was discovered. His family was notified. An honorable sacrifice to the war.
I had contacted my father twenty months ago. I had wanted him to come get me. Prove his love for me. Reunite an imaginary family that I'd never really had. I had failed that mission. I learned something more valuable. Father had always intended for me to be a good warrior. A perfect warrior. Flawless in the ways that warriors needed to be. My failure had been the result of the final flaw I had retained through years of war. This flaw was hope. Hope marred my perception. Hope forced my mind away from the present, from the mission at hand. Hope was a distraction. It fueled imagination and longing. It made me inefficient. I was now without hope. This made me effective, smart, and focused. Princes noticed this. I did not dwell on the mistakes I had made, the deaths and carnage I had witnessed. I was always preparing for the next battle. I was always thinking about fighting.
About two months ago, Trainer had pulled me aside to have a personal conversation. Our intimacies together had not been fulfilling to him. I did not understand what had changed. Often times, he would cry once he completed, saying something like, (There really is nothing left.) He continued to try for some time. He was searching for something. He did not order me to help him find it. I performed my duty without question.
When he pulled me aside, he asked me if I was all right. I had learned that the only times he asked about my well-being was when he was most concerned about his own.
(I am adequate, sir.)
(Of course. You're healthy, beautiful, strong, effective. But are you all right?)
(Yes, sir.)
(I don't think you understand my question. I can see that there's nothing wrong with you. But I feel that something is.)
(What is wrong with me, sir?)
(That's what I'm asking you.)
I did not know what to say. He did not like to be pandered to. There was nothing wrong with me.
(There is nothing wrong with me, sir.)
(Did I accidentally kill you?) He said, stroking my face with his hand. (Is there anything left inside there?)
I said nothing. He was not addressing me.
Since then, the frequency of our encounters had diminished. He had tried one last time seven weeks ago. I do not believe it even happened. I had taken to imagining I was elsewhere during them. They used to cause me pain. They used to cause me pleasure.
They caused me nothing anymore.
Nothing caused me pain anymore. Battles were simple affairs without much threat. It made me an effective fighter. Limbs lost, blood spilled. No emotional attachment to anything. I was fearless.
(I don't feel like we should stay here much longer. I don't think there's anything left for us here.) Trainer had said two weeks ago. I was cleaning my Shredder. It had become a part of my daily routine.
(Yes, sir.)
(I mean, don't get me wrong, we've made friends. I've made friends. I like people here. This place just feels...crowded, no? Crowded, or drab. Restless or something.)
He was using Beta Communication. I was not. He looked at me for a few moments before continuing.
(Perhaps I am wrong. I believe we can stay here. We're comfortable. You're comfortable, no?)
(Yes, sir.) He narrowed his eyes. He sighed. This did not worry me.
Nothing worried me. Perhaps it should have.
Trainer didn't speak to me for two more weeks. This did not affect our routine. I woke up. I fed in the biosphere on days with battles. I was used to hunger. It did not bother me. I cleaned my Shredder. I practiced tail fighting. I cleaned the chalky filth from my hooves with the device Borrifum had given me. I attempted to keep my fur clean. The dust dried out my skin. It did not bother me. I appeared more fearsome with healthy skin.
We fought in that last battle in the asteroid belt.
It was not difficult. It was not different. Trainer asked me to acquire a dying Hork-Bajir at the end of the battle. We had scared away the bloodthirstiest Taxxons. The Hork-Bajir's arms and throat were still gurgling blood. His eyes were mean and angry. He snapped his jaws at me when I reached for him. I pressed my hand against his beak and eased his suffering.
(It's strange I've never had you acquire a Hork-Bajir or Taxxon before,) Trainer laughed as we headed home. (Even if you never use them, they're good tools to have, no?)
(You plan for me to use it,) I said, staring into his eyes. His eyebrows turned up again. He looked away. I had not meant it as an accusation. I did not wonder why that is how he took it.
Later that night, Trainer began packing up his things. He told me to do the same.
(We are leaving this system,) I stated flatly.
(Yes. Would you like to know where we are going?)
(It is not important,) I said. Trainer was looking at me with a smile. It did not convey happiness.
(I wish you wouldn't say that.)
(All right, sir.)
Trainer suddenly dropped what he was doing. He rushed over to me. He wrapped his arms under my shoulders.
(I wanted to make you happy,) he cried in a voice he'd never used before. A high, unnatural, vulnerable voice. (I knew I could do it. I know I can. How did I fail? What did I do wrong? How could I hurt what I meant to please? Why can't I convey trust and love and loyalty? What is wrong with me? Why do I push everyone away? Why do they always run, abandon me, why did you do this, Jennor? Why did you leave?)
He bawled into my neck for seventeen minutes. His fingers gripped my back. His tail curled tight against his body. I suppose I could have read what he was thinking. I did not do that anymore. I allowed him to continue. My arms hung loose and uncomforting at my sides. I watched the entrance. It was dark outside. Everyone was home for the night. Trainer pulled his face away. He pressed his hand against my face. He looked into my eyes.
(You are not her,) he said in his own voice again. He stared at me for some time. His eyes grew stronger. His posture straightened. His tail uncoiled.
Finally Trainer let go. He wiped his face and caught his breath. He did not look at me. I continued to pack.
We left the asteroid belt the next morning.
Princes came to bid us farewell. They had never grown accustomed to me. They saluted curtly. They turned aside. They talked to Trainer for a long time. They laughed. They liked him. They touched him with their hands. This is something Andalite acquaintances never do. They were no longer acquaintances.
I had not been on the ship in months. It hadn't changed much. Limited upkeep kept the grass alive. The water filters were functional. It would suffice.
Trainer did not tell me where we were going. He had offered before. I did not ask. I was not curious. We would arrive. I would perform my duty. The battle would end. Trainer would grow restless. We might win. We might lose. We would leave. The rest of my life was very clear. We would continue to travel. Trainer would make friends. Trainer would grow bored. We would go somewhere else.
Trainer spent his time at the control panel. His eye stopped watching me. I posed no threat or interest to him. I practiced tail fighting. I studied combat history. My form was nearly flawless. Any tinge of weakness I felt during any particular move was immediately trained and strengthened. Muscles in my arms even bulged slightly. I could pull grass from the ground with my fist.
We traveled for five months. We exited Zero-Space near a red giant. Filters on the viewscreen refracted much of the light. They were imperfect, ineffective. I felt warmth on my hands. I pressed them against the window. Blood flowed through my fingers. I could feel my pulse.
(Jennor,) Trainer said. His voice sounded strained. He hadn't said anything to me in weeks. (I want you to prepare. We have a...personal mission here.)
(Where is here?)
(The Hork-Bajir homeworld,) he said, turning the ship slightly. A gray planet with deep, green cracks spun into view. Scattered pieces of Andalite and Yeerk spacecraft littered its orbit. Yeerk sentry ships curled in high orbit on the view screen. I did not know Trainer had installed cloaking technology into his ship. I pulled my hands away from the window.
(What is the mission?)
He turned to look me in the eye. He did not blink. (We are very fortunate to have received this assignment. There is some leftover technology that the Electorate wants retrieved. Only recently have they realized the importance it holds for the future of the war. It will be difficult to land the ship, so I'll drop you off at the top of a tree. You'll be in Hork-Bajir morph, so you'll just climb down and retrieve the item.)
(What is the item?)
(It's this,) he said. He conjured a holographic image of some circular, barbed tool I did not recognize. (You'll be able to find it in the Tactic-Prince's scoop in the meridian valley. I'll get you a map, so you can...) he trailed off for a moment. He cradled his head in his hand. (So you can find it.)
(Yes, sir. How long until we reach the planet?)
He gazed out the window for a while. His stalk eyes floated above his head like seakelp.
(Is twenty minutes long enough for you to prepare?)
(Yes, sir.)
(Twenty minutes, then.)
Twenty minutes later, I had morphed to Hork-Bajir form. I strapped my holster around my thick waist. I secured my Shredder inside. I waited at the hatch for Trainer.
(Here,) he said, holding out an oxygen mask. (You'll need this to protect yourself from the Quantum Virus.)
I held the mask in my strong, clawed hand. (Sir, permission to ask a question.)
(Of course, Jennor, what is it?)
(Is the Quantum Virus still active?)
Trainer paused. (Probably not. This is a precaution.)
(Would it make more sense for me to descend as an Andalite?)
(No, no, not at all. Though this valley is unexploited and uninhabited, Yeerk patrol ships still occasionally scan from orbit. If their sensors picked up Andalite DNA—)
(They haven't detected our ship?)
His face went slightly gray. (I said occasionally. I scanned. They're not here. They could be on the surface.)
(Wouldn't the virus affect them just as vehemently?)
Trainer opened the hatch.
(Are you ready, Jennor?)
I looked down. The first branch of the tallest tree was dozens of feet below us.
(The ship is too far up, sir. We'll need to descend further in order to—)
I didn't have my stalk eyes. I hadn't considered that this might be a problem.
I looked back at Trainer. His Shredder was trained on me.
(Get out, Jennor.)
