Chapter Three
Chapter Three
"The crystalit appears
in his fighter each night, as if it werewatching on
usWhat does it do? I've almost felt a connection to
it. I'm Andalite after all, but how come I feel so connected
to it?"
Crystals watch over their
racesand tune into the thoughts of their races through the
energy band that runs through every living creature. It is
like—a great battery with a mindspreading its energy
to all that would accept it.
------------------------------
And so we waited, for the
mercenaries to do the job they promised. That night, I could not
get a wink of sleep, and when I woke up, Rhazori would try and
get me to go back to sleep. But thoughts of small slugs entering
and leaving my brain kept me from dozing off.
Spalose, try and get some
rest, when you do, I do.
The voice came out of nowhere,
reverberating in my head, around the bends and curves of the
insides of the fighter, and even in my mind. I jumped from my
spot, looking around for whatever made the noise. I snapped my
head over to Rhazori, who, in his digital gaze, looked at shocked
as I was.
You heard it too, Rhazori?
I stammered. Rhazori nodded, also looking around the fighter. Out
of the corner of my eye, I noticed a small blue spot glistening,
and floating in the air above one of the terminals.
Wh-wh-who are you? I
managed to say, watching the ghastly blue orb grow a little more
and increase in brightness. It moved over towards me slowly.
I am the one who watches
over the Andalites every night, every day, every second, hearing
their thoughts and feeling their pain. I am Andalite Psi, I am
Dmitri. the orb spoke. The voice was calming, soothing,
and brought my frightening shiver down to a dull tremor. I
settled a little.
Youare you---
I am the Andalite's
Psi crystal. I am your crystal, whom YOU'VE been
chosen to guard. it said.
I was shocked. The crystal that
contained the entire Andalite race's life energy was
floating around in my fighter. I moved closer; and in that, felt
my insides tingle. My mitochondria produce psi.
You're the—but if
you're here, what is in the Temple on Ablia, distributing
and anchoring the power? I asked, remembering what Tassax had
told me in my first studies as a psionic guardian.
My physical essence
remains in the temple, evenly distributing the power. While my
mental essence is free to roam and watch over my people. I have
existed this way for many millenia. But...unfortunately, I'm
growing weaker every day. it replied.
Weaker? How are you becoming
weaker? I asked it, rubbing my shoulder, a chilly breeze
flowing off of the essence.
It almost beamed into a saddened
tone. Because Andalites are dying, Spalose. This war is
reducing your once brilliant people to nothing. You're on
the verge of genocide!
Never had the thought occurred to
me, that my people were on the brink of destroying themselves. I
had never before considered that if the fighting continued, the
Andalites could extinguish themselves into nothing. And that
would kill Dmitri. Without him, we would die, and without us, he
would die. It had to stop.
I can sense what
you're thinking, and it is right, and I commend you.
I'm glad you have learned of this. Life is precious,
Spalose. Dmitri spoke into my mind as he disappeared into
the night. And so I was alone in the fighter, Rhazori just
sitting there in awe.
Let's get some sleep,
buddy. That experience is what will change things around here. We
can't let Dmitri die, and we can't let the Andalite
race destroy itself.
I drifted off to sleep, graciously
awaiting the morning when I would try and restore peace to the
Andalite Empire.
Spalose drifted off to sleep,
lying there, curled up, dreaming. Dreaming that I could no longer
do. Sleep that I could no longer catch. All I was capable of was
recording my memories into a computer bank. The terminal was full
of my visions, my thoughts. Because of my limited space in the
shell, and so few brain cells, without the computer hook-up, I
was small and insignificant. The appearance of the Andalite Psi
Crystal had stirred my thoughts a little, almost made me feel
alive again, but in my mind' I knew I would never
experience true life.
The terminal screen buzzed with
an incoming message from Leepo. Apparently, new squads of his
latest ships, the Psionic Bumers, were finally ready. Ready for
what? I asked myself. Then it came, another message. I scanned
over it three times.
"Priority One Distress
Signal from Andalite Confederacy. The Yeerkish Empire has struck.
We're losing terribly. Please send help. Anyone. Albia is
under heavy attack. Send help. Anyone. Repeat, Priority One
Distress Signal." And then it was over. I prepared to tell
Spalose, knowing that the next few nights may be hardly a rest
for him.