My name is Jen.
I could just say that my name is Jen and leave it at that. That's how a lot of people with the same stories as I have introduced themselves. They've got their reasons for keeping their real identities on the down low, and I'm not going to rip into them for that. I am, however, going to go against the trend and declare that my full name is Jennifer Yelena Carson. You can look me up on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram if you want. No guarantees that I'll add you or follow back though. I'm the Jennifer Yelena Carson from Pennsylvania, the one who graduated from Notre and is a fan of all things Fighting Irish. I'm the Jennifer Yelena Carson who loves to watch and play soccer and is a fan of Arsenal FC of the English Premier League.
I'm also the Jennifer Yelena Carson with the Yeerk in her hand, on her head, and in her head. Yes, that's right. I'm Jennifer Carson the Controller. I'm the Jennifer Carson who let this alien slug from light-years away crawl into my head, live there for the next twenty-plus years, and basically give her the ability to take control of my every single move. Not that Yemra elects to use this ability all the time; only sometimes, and more often than not it's me who has to ask her to take over when I don't want to deal with life's shit
Oh, and I have also been both a refugee and a war veteran.
Okay, maybe that last bit was a bit of an exaggeration, but I have definitely been an internally displaced person, to use the acceptable new terms. Remember all that brouhaha about a Nothlit State that had popped up somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania sometime between the black president and the orange president? Yep, I was right in the middle of it, along with my Yeerk, my family, and at least a third of the population of the city where the Nothlit State decided to set up shop. We were all told to evacuate to nearby Fort Indiantown Gap while the police and the National Guard dealt with the Nothlit State, and that is how I qualify to be an internally displaced person.
Then, during the evacuation, I was recruited into an army of Controllers formed by a high-ranking member of the Human-Yeerk Alliance who suspected that the Nothlit State was actually the cover for something more sinister. This high-ranking member's theory turned out to be correct, because we found out that the Nothlit State was supposed to be the advance party for the Yeerk Empire's second attempt at invading Earth. Intel that we had collected indicated that the war between the Yeerks and Andalites was not going so well for the Yeerks, which was why the Yeerks had decided to go for another shot at this planet which was home to over seven billion potential hosts and soldiers for the war. And to them, there was something poetic about stealing away what the Andalites thought to be their greatest victory over the Yeerks yet.
Anyway, long story short, this "army" of Controllers was forced to evacuate by the National Guard, but during our exfil my unit was ambushed and I was captured. The nothlits first tried to starve Yemra out of my head, but that failed because for some reason, Yemra can survive without Kandrona rays for thirty days, ten times longer than the Yeerk time limit that we are all familiar with. The nothlits then tried to extract the reason why by means of mental torture, and during those sessions they took tissue samples from Yemra so they could determine why she was the way she was. Reports from the Nothlit State base captured at the end of their "rebellion" or "insurrection" or whatever people want to call it seem to indicate that it's some sort of mutation in Yems' genetic code, but we'll get to that later.
I was finally rescued from captivity by a nothlit who was also the HYA's contact from deep within the Nothlit State. We were then helped in our escape by a former human-Controller who had been swayed to the Nothlit State's side by the promise of a new Yeerk in her head but was eventually persuaded that the Yeerk that she would get the second time around would be in no way, shape or form as nice as her old Yeerk. Sadly, the nothlit woman who helped me escape sacrificed herself to buy me and the other woman time to get the hell out of Dodge, and then a sniper shot the former Controller, forcing me to make my way back to friendly forces on my own. I hate to reduce the story of both Charegh Two-Zero-Zero and Amanda Barzaglio to a single sentence like that but for the moment it has to be done. I'll get back to the both of them further down the line.
The part about me being a war veteran comes from the time after Charegh and Amanda's deaths and before I finally made it to a National Guard checkpoint. I crossed paths with a Nothlit State patrol specifically searching for me, and to this day I have little if any explanation for the events that followed. All I know is that I had decided to fight those three nothlits and, after a lengthy shootout that also included my being almost choked to death by a former Yeerk Visser, I somehow ended up killing all three nothlits. Hardly Medal of Honor stuff, I know, but Trump still gave me a Presidential Citizens Medal, which is like the second-highest civilian honor an American can get, for it. And I also wrote a book about what happened, which got some circulation (but most definitely did not become New York Times bestseller), and now I'm hearing talk about a movie adaptation starring Scarlett Johansson or Brie Larson or whoever. Personally I think that's all bunk because neither me nor my publisher have been contacted about it, and I think that that's how it works.
Anyway, all that happened two or three years ago. The police are still getting calls from people about possible Noesh hiding out in the sticks after the Nothlit State itself was defeated by the National Guard, even though I have it on very good authority that any high-ranking survivors from Noesh are hiding out among the stars, possibly back in Yeerk Empire territory. The people living out in the suburbs of the city, my family being part of them, were allowed to come back just a few weeks after the National Guard had declared that they had eradicated the last pocket of Noesh resistance. Slowly, people filtered back into the city itself until only those places where most of the fighting had occurred, a place called the "Red Zone", remained uninhabited. The old Yeerk Pool beside the college, which the nothlits had used as their headquarters for the duration of their "rebellion", had been abandoned; the Kandrona generator and Pool itself moved to a suburb on the other side of the interstate from my place. The state government had promised to rebuild the Red Zone ASAP, but three years on the empty and partially collapsed husks of the buildings damaged during the fighting still remain. You can still see the bullet holes on the walls in the Red Zone, a stark contrast to the areas outside the Red Zone which had been rebuilt mostly privately but supposedly with state and federal compensations, where you can't even tell that an urban battle had occurred.
The city may have been rebuilt, but I don't think I can say the same for myself. The thing about my having been both a refugee and a veteran is that I've seen things and done things that can really mess up the mind if you're not ready to handle it. I wasn't too affected by our evacuation to the Gap; to be honest I had decided to look at it as a very extended camping trip. Not so much when I had been captured by the nothlits. Remember that mental torture stuff that I said that they made me go through? I would have preferred if they had just beaten me up physically, because scars, bruises, even broken bones heal. But memories last forever. Even if they're buried underneath years and years of other memories, the nothlits had this beam or ray that they just point at you and every single happy and sad memory you've ever had will be replayed over and over again until the ray is turned off. Maybe a few months after the Nothlit State was defeated, I started having recurring dreams and nightmares of the scenes that that ray had played out in my mind. Soon the content of my dreams shifted to imaginary scenarios, scenes where I would get shot by a sniper or receive a chest-full of lead from a patrolling nothlit or, the worst of them all, the nothlits physically extracting Yemra from inside my skull. If you've read my first book then you already know how I feel about the thought of being separated from my Yeerk. If you haven't then there. Now you know.
As I was saying, the nightmares began to take a toll on my daily life. I started to sleep less because I didn't want to have the same nightmares over and over again, and that had the effect of making me more tired and sleepy during the day. And in between manning the register at Mr. Tenkiss's diner, interning in that trucking company, and soccer on Thursdays and the weekends; that just wouldn't do. So I finally decided to get some counseling. It was a tough process; I think I bounced around a few counselors or so before I finally settled on someone I felt comfortable with, meaning someone whom I didn't really hesitate to open up with.
There was also a problem with these counseling sessions as it relates to Yemra. Technically speaking, Yemra is a separate entity from me, Jen Carson, so there is all manner of doctor-patient confidentiality agreements that had to be talked about. Yems and I eventually came to an arrangement wherein I would put Yems in some water where she would wait while I had my counseling session, and then once that was over I would put her back in my head. That way, technically speaking, there was only me and my counselor present during the sessions. My counselor tried not to think too much about the fact that Yemra would be able to know everything I said and did during every session due to her unique nature; he said that if he did that, he would be the one to need counseling.
And then one day, while on my way back home from yet another session, Yemra surprised me when she spoke up and said that she wanted to talk to a counselor as well. ((You know, I just thought that it would be a good idea,)) she said once I had gotten over my initial shock and asked her why she wanted to do it. ((I've seen the effects talking to someone else about your thoughts has had on you. I've felt your burdens ease, even for just a tiny bit, after you've finally had someone to talk to about the things you've been thinking about. And, to be honest, your emotions and thoughts have bled off on me, you know what I mean? I'm right where your thoughts originate. I see every single one as they're formed. You can't expect me not to be affected by everything that passes through your mind. I'm not that kind of Yeerk.))
((Why didn't you say so before? Why didn't you say anything while I was looking for a counselor?)) I retorted. ((And why don't you want to talk to me?)) I asked. ((You know you can say anything to me,)) I added, not bothering to keep the hurt out of my tone.
((No, Jen, you don't understand,)) Yemra replied soothingly with an added mental hug. ((This has nothing to do with you at all. No, actually, it does, but not in the way you think. You're finally getting to sort out your issues, Jennifer. There's no need for me to trouble you with mine. Let me deal with my problems my way while you deal with yours.))
I was prepared to fight with Yems about how she definitely could have talked to me about her problems, but as always her mind was set, and I couldn't talk her out of it. But if I thought that finding a counselor for me was hard enough, then finding one for Yemra was a completely different matter altogether. First of all, there are no Yeerk counselors out there (by which I mean Yeerks who are also counselors to other Yeerks). Second, the human counselors we approached, while they were very much understanding of Yemra's plight, there was simply no handbook out there on how to counsel a Yeerk, and because I couldn't be present during Yemra's sessions for the same confidentiality reasons that I can't have Yems in my head during my sessions she had to go into the counselor's head if she wanted to talk to them. And that opens up a new can of worms because Yemra might end up accessing the counselor's memories of other sessions with other patients. That's the problem with Yeerks connecting to a new brain; they don't have a clue where they could end up connecting first.
A solution came in the unlikely form of Yibey Nine-One-Five, Yemra's boss from back during the war. We had gone to the new Yeerk Pool in town for one of Yemra's monthly feedings (she may not need Kandrona rays every three days but she still needs them) and, while swimming around in the Pool, happened to bump into Yibey, who was also feeding that time. One thing led to another, and eventually Yems ended up telling Yibey everything. After that, when she had returned to my head, her mental voice sounded strangely raw, as if she had just cried a lot, if Yeerks could even cry at all. ((Hey, Yems, what happened?)) I asked her. ((What happened with you and Yibey?))
((Everything,)) was her reply. ((I told Yibey everything. Everything I wanted to say, everything I wanted to make known, everything.))
((Um, well, okay,)) I stammered. ((I mean, that's a good thing, right? You finally got all these things off your chest, so to speak.))
((Yeah, I guess,)) Yemra conceded, giving out a mental shrug. ((I just wasn't expecting to tell everything to Yibey, of all people.))
((You mean all the Yeerks,)) I added, and that seemed to lift up Yemra's spirits, even if just a little bit. ((So what did you tell him?))
((Oh, Jen, I'm not sure you want to know all about this,)) Yemra hesitated.
((Oh, come on, Yems,)) I sighed. ((It's not like I'm asking you to give me a memory dump. I don't need to know every single detail. I just want you to tell me what you said to Yibey and what you did. I mean, it only seems fair. You already know everything about me, even the parts that I would rather you didn't. You get to see everything I've told my counselor when you get back. Can't you at least do the same for me? Sounds like a fair trade to me.))
Yemra went silent for a minute. She was definitely thinking about it. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, she replied. ((All right, Jen. I'll do it. For you,)) she said. ((Are you ready?))
((Give it to me, Yems. Give me your best shot.))
((Here goes…)) At first, it didn't feel like anything was happening, but then I heard Yemra speaking. I thought she was talking to me but then I realized that she wasn't speaking in any language that I understood. She had to be speaking in Yeerkish, and soon after I heard Yibey speaking, also in Yeerkish. Then came the flood of images, scattered and confused but, once you've seen the whole thing, they all told the story of how Yemra had felt completely powerless, even inside my body. She had felt helpless because she felt that there were a lot of things she could have done differently, like help carry Charegh during our escape from the Pool or tell Amanda to keep her head down or even make me walk away from my confrontation with Immib and his patrol. Yemra had never realized just how angry she was that she had been born a Yeerk, that even with a host body she was still never that far away from danger. All the battles she'd had to endure, the realization that maybe it wasn't right to force the Hork-Bajir (or any of the Empire's other host species, for that matter) to fight these battles even with Yeerks in their heads, the decision to join the Peace Movement and hopefully create a paradigm shift in the Empire where other Yeerks realize that war and conquest isn't the only way forward. No wonder Yemra had enjoyed the transition to a human host. Then she could believe, even for just a brief moment, that there was no invasion, no war, no involuntary hosts, just peaceful coexistence between humans and Yeerks.
By the end of the memory, tears were falling from my eyes as well. ((Oh, my God,)) I said. ((I never knew… You never said anything, Yems. Why didn't you tell me any of this?)) I asked with more than a hint of anger creeping into my voice.
((I've already answered that question, Jen,)) Yemra replied simply. ((You already have enough problems by yourself as it is. I didn't want to add my troubles to yours.))
After all this difficulty, Yemra and I finally settled into a rhythm following our respective counseling sessions. I would take Yemra out of my head before meeting my counselor and let her back in afterwards to view my memories, and then when it was her turn to talk to Yibey they would go soak up Kandrona rays in Yibey's portable Pool (rank hath its privileges and all that, after all) and then she would dump to me her memories of the conversation raw and uncut. It seemed only fair that I got to know some of what Yemra does recently when she can literally access any memory of mine anytime, anywhere. Sure, it may leave me bawling like a baby whenever Yemra gives me her memories, but I feel that it's worth it.
To be completely honest, going through counseling was almost as hard as living through everything all over again. But the experience was also quite relieving; cathartic, even. And while my sessions with my counselor and Yemra's talks with Yibey left us both emotionally drained and exhausted at the end, we both felt a little bit lighter each time, like we were both finally managing to lift our respective burdens bit by bit.
Still, it was also hard for us to recover from these sessions and talks, pouring out our thoughts, feelings, and recollections to someone else. My latest session with my counselor had been quite taxing because I was once again having nightmares about being taunted by Charegh and Amanda's ghosts before getting shot by Immib. By the end, I was crying again and saying again and again that I never wanted either of them to die, and that if I could have done anything to save both of them I would have done it already. It was a classic case of survivor's guilt, and I had a feeling that Yemra's memories and her own unresolved guilt about what happened had triggered a recurrence of my nightmares.
I definitely needed a pick-me-up after my session. Yemra started things off by wrapping me in a mental embrace; I sank into the warmth of her hug like I would my comforter and blanket on a cold day. Since in that state I was in no position to move, let alone walk around, Yems would take control and walk me to the bus stop, and she would then ask me where I wanted to go. ((I heard that there's a new second-hand bookshop that opened right beside the café just a few days ago,)) I replied. ((I wanna go check it out, see what's in there.))
((Sure thing, Jen,)) Yemra replied with a smile, and then we boarded the bus headed for downtown. The café and the new bookstore was a few blocks away from the downtown bus stop, but I didn't mind the walk. The air helped to clear my head after all. I walked into the bookstore first, and I perused the available titles as I walked along the aisles. There were quite a few paperbacks on display, but none that really interested me, and the titles that I was looking for weren't there. So then I bent down to look at the lower shelves (this is where I've found some of the cheaper books I've bought over the years, wink wink). I skimmed through the spines and covers but still nothing caught my attention. ((I don't know about this, Jen,)) Yemra said. ((Maybe this isn't your lucky day.))
I clicked my tongue and sighed. ((Dang it,)) I muttered. ((I was really hoping to get a new book today.))
((Don't worry about it. Maybe next time you'll find a book you like.))
((Yeah, sure.)) I was just about to walk out of the bookshop when I noticed this book with a colorful cover lying on top of a pile beside the cashier which I could only describe as unsorted. I picked up the book and read the title: Little Brown Brothers: The Truth about the Relationship between Humanity and Andalites. The cover itself was drawn like a political cartoon from the late 19th century or early 20th century. It was a tropical scene depicting an Andalite wearing an Uncle Sam costume and a human wearing a loose white shirt. The human was dragging his knuckles along the ground like a monkey while the Andalite had one hand pointing up at the sky and the other holding a scroll with the words "Agreement of Mutual Benefit". ((Ooh, now this is interesting,)) Yemra said as she examined the cover. ((I wonder what it's about,)) she muttered.
((The truth about the relationship between humanity and Andalites, duh,)) I retorted, and then I turned the book over to read the summary at the back.
On December 23, 2004, humanity, as one single and united species, signed the Treaty of Understanding, Friendship, and Cooperation with the Andalites, our first ever treaty with a species from another planet. This was supposed to be the next chapter in the story of mankind, with the Andalites playing the role of humanity's mentor and guide to the stars and beyond. But more than a decade after the signing of this historic treaty, there is not much understanding, few friendships, and little to no cooperation at all between the two species. Andalites have revealed little about their cultures and traditions, they treat us more as feudal subjects than trusted allies, and what little help they have given us have all sorts of terms and conditions attached to them. In this book, author Arthur Dexter Macalinao examines the complicated and oftentimes tense relationship between man and Andalite and compares it with the postcolonial dealings of the second half of the 20th century in the hopes of answering the following questions: what do humans and Andalites think of each other? Are humans truly benefitting under the protection of the Andalites? Or would humanity have been better off without the Andalites?
((Oh, wow,)) Yemra muttered once we had finished reading the summary. ((Why do I get the feeling that this guy doesn't like the Andalites at all?))
((I don't know, Yems,)) I replied. ((Maybe it's just you.)) I then skimmed through the book to get an idea of what it was really about (the summary doesn't always give you the full picture) and it was basically comparing human-Andalite relations with America's dealings with its former colonies and territories like Cuba and the Philippines. It wasn't the kind of book that I normally read, and I kind of disagreed with the main point that the author was making (that humanity would have been better off without the Andalites) but still, the book was intriguing. I bought the thing for four dollars, expensive for second-hand standards but a bargain when compared to its list price in one of the brand-name bookstores. I like to think that I got a steal.
With new book in hand, I made my way towards the café across the street and ordered an iced chocolate frappe, a chocolate glazed donut, and a slice of triple chocolate cake. What can I say? I really like chocolate. Plus, it's scientifically proven that chocolate produces endorphins, the stuff that makes people feel happy and good about themselves. Yeah, never mind that my family has a history of getting diabetes; when I see chocolate, I'm gonna eat it.
I picked up my order, with the barista somehow misspelling my simple three-letter, one-syllable name into something I almost couldn't understand (seriously though, how does one turn Jen into Joann or something like that anyway? I swear, sometimes I feel that baristas do this on purpose.) and then I made my way to an empty table and laid down my frappe, donut, and cake slice. Someone had left behind a newspaper on the table I had taken so I tossed it aside and sat down. I flipped through my phone just to make sure I hadn't missed anything, and then for a change I decided to get back the paper and read through it. According to the news, the reconstruction in the city was proceeding right on schedule, and it was also a few million dollars under budget. ((Well, isn't that something?)) Yemra noted. ((Is the government finally doing something right after all?))
((I wouldn't put too much stock into this one, Yems,)) I replied. ((It's an election year, after all. It's anyone's guess when after the election people are gonna talk about the delays and the budget overruns.))
((That's quite pessimistic of you, isn't it?)) Yems quipped. ((Me, I prefer to see the goodness in everyone.))
((Easy for you to say,)) I muttered. ((Given the chance, you can and will see the goodness in anyone, if they let you into their head.))
Yemra laughed. ((Ah, that is true,)) she conceded. I then flipped through the rest of the paper, stopping for the world news, the celebrity gossip pages, and the comic strips. Once I was finished, I set the paper aside and took a sip of my frappe. I already knew what this frappe was going to taste like, having ordered this drink maybe a hundred times or more already, but I was still happily amazed by the sheer pleasure emanating from Yemra every time she savors the chocolate and whipped cream on my tongue. I cannot even begin to imagine what Kandrona rays taste like, if it even tastes like anything at all, but thanks to me Yemra now knows the taste of an iced choco frappe, a greasy and dripping Philly cheese steak, the pasta al dente and pizza margherita from Ristorante Russolini, and all the other things I've put in my mouth. Okay, maybe I could have worded that last sentence better. All the other food I've ever eaten, that's what I really meant.
Suddenly, I felt this weird tingling sensation throughout my body, kind of like that pins and needles feeling you get when your leg falls asleep then wakes up. I knew exactly what this feeling entailed, but I still waited for Yemra to give me official confirmation. ((Heads up, Jen,)) she said. ((Someone who's either a Controller or used to be one just went into the café.))
I nodded imperceptibly, and then I took out my phone again and pretended to check my feed while in reality, I was scanning the faces of everyone who was coming into the café or had just gone inside. I recognized a few people from the Yeerk Pool, but none of them were setting off the nik'iili in my blood like this mystery Controller. I then looked down the line of people making their orders but still nothing. And then the answer to my question quite literally walked right in front of me.
"Jen! Is that you?" a girl with big brown eyes and long brown hair framing her round face asked me suddenly. The girl looked very familiar, like I should have already remembered who she was, but at the moment I couldn't put a finger on her name.
"It's Olga!" she said. "Remember? Olga Beauregard? From Notre Dame? We were both on the soccer team!"
And then it finally clicked. "Oh! Olga!" I exclaimed, and I stood up and we embraced. "You didn't tell me you were here in town!" I said, but more as a question.
"Yeah, well, this was a bit last minute, I'd say," Olga replied with a sheepish laugh.
"Well, don't just stand there! Sit, sit!" I said, and Olga took the seat opposite me. "You want something to eat?" I asked. "I've got a donut and a cake, if you like."
"Oh, no thanks," Olga shook her head. "I've actually been, you know, watching my carbs," she said, saying the last part in a whisper that I could barely hear. Not that I could blame her. Olga had always been on the curvy side of things ever since I first met her, or as my male friends would say, she's a thicc girl. I mean, I've low-key envied Olga's hips and rear. She's got the kind of figure that boys think about in the middle of the night. Me, I've often heard that my hips could be used as a ruler if needed, and no amount of squats in the world had made a bubble butt out of my pancake ass.
"So, what brings you here to my hometown?" I asked Olga. I was genuinely interested to know about that, but I also hoped that I would be able to use that to work a mention about Yeerks into our conversation because, I'm telling you, the nik'iili is going haywire and Yemra is going ballistic inside my head. You've never known suffering until you've had a Yeerk in your head screaming ((It's her!)) over and over again and pretending nothing's happening on the outside. This must be what the majority of Yeerks (well, the ones whose hosts really fought back) must have been experiencing back in the invasion.
"Yeah, that's a pretty funny story, actually," Olga shrugged. "Well, first of all, I didn't even know your hometown had a soccer team, so when I was called over by the manager to meet with these two folks and said that they wanted to sign me for the team here, I'm just like 'what?' Did you know that there was a soccer team in town?"
"Yeah, I've heard about it," I replied. "In fact, I'd more than heard about it. I actually play for that club."
"No way! Really?" Olga asked. She laughed at the amazing coincidence that she had stumbled upon and said, "Looks like we're gonna be teammates again. Isn't that cool? It's gonna be just like college!"
I laughed as I watched Olga's eyes light up. I'd always liked that about her, how she finds the joy and pleasure in the little things in life. I used to be like that, but now I'm not sure about what happened, or what changed in me. Maybe I've grown older quicker than I thought. Maybe it's because I've seen things someone my age shouldn't have seen. I don't know.
"Oh, and speaking of college," Olga added, "remember that conversation that we had a few days before your graduation?"
"What conversation?" I asked back.
"You know," Olga trailed off. "The one about, you know… this?" She pointed up at the sky with her finger. Or maybe it was her head. In any case, Yemra got the hint quicker than I did. ((Oh, snap,)) she told me. ((Here it comes.))
"Yeah, Jen, remember that conversation?" Olga continued. "The one where I wanted to know everything there is to know about… Yeerks?" She said that last word in a whisper I could barely hear.
"Yeah, okay, what about it?" I asked her even though I already knew what the answer was going to be.
"Well, I finally did it. I went ahead and got myself a Yeerk," Olga said.
A/N: As always, reviews and comments are appreciated. Thanks! – GR
