translated by DawningStar
The cages in this pool were more comfortable than what I was used to, the bars and floor padded. There was one other person in the cave, a boy only a few years older than me. He looked up curiously as I was pushed in. "Hi, what's your name?" he inquired.
"Cassandra."
His eyes widened. "Really? You're the one who made all those poems and stories and stuff? That's great!"
Disconcerted, I asked, "You've heard my stories?"
"Well, not many of your stories, really," he admitted. "There aren't many good Storytellers around, so the stories don't travel very fast. But the poems--I've heard tons of those!" He grinned. "I especially liked the one about the Council of Thirteen. My name's Tal, by the way."
I smiled back. That particular poem was an irreverent, mocking piece, all about the way the Council of Thirteen and the upper ranks of the Yeerks worked together--or didn't. From a Yeerk it would have been treason; from the hosts it was ignored. Few Yeerks had even understood that it wasn't entirely sincere.
"But my very favorite is the one about the memories," Tal continued, suddenly entirely serious. "I...I have something to show you." He turned to the side of the cage and picked at the carpeting. A corner came loose, and Tal pulled it up and retrieved something from underneath. "It's sort of a hobby, and I'm not much good at it, but..." He held out a small wooden object, apparently hollow, with holes carved along its length.
I reached to touch it gently. "It's very pretty. What is it?"
"I think it used to be called a flute, maybe. It's a musical instrument."
With renewed wonder, I studied the flute. A piece of the past. A human instrument, to make music. That was something I'd never heard, never even imagined, really. "And you know how to play it?"
"A little bit. I taught myself, more or less." Tal raised the flute to his lips. "I made up a tune for your poem," he said shyly, and began to play.
It was a plaintive melody, but not sad, and it seemed to fit my poem perfectly. The poem he spoke of had been one of my earliest works, one I was still proud of. Tentatively, I hummed the tune as Tal played, then began to sing softly as he went through it a second time.
"We cried in silence
pleas unheard
and slowly we gave in,
We looked around
and found no hope
no way for us to win.
We searched for help
and meanwhile dreamed
but our help never came,
We dreamed of freedom
dreamed of peace
but war stayed just the same.
And some forgot
and some still dreamed
and some in silence wept,
And some gave up
and some gave in
and some the memories kept.
Never forget
but keep in mind
the way things used to be,
Right is still right
and wrong is wrong
this is what we must see.
Empires fall
and nations rise
and peace will come someday,
But we are here
and here our task
is showing the right way.
And some forget
and some still dream
and some in silence weep,
And some give up
and some give in
and some the memories keep.
And some the memories keep."
Tal lowered the flute, after a final trill. "You have a very pretty voice," he complimented me.
"It doesn't compare with your flute," I told him with a smile. I was breathing fast, I'd been concentrating so hard on the song. It was beautiful, like nothing I'd ever done before. My own poem had become something even better, an entirely new art form.
He smiled shyly. "I've never done this with anyone before, I just played, and sometimes sang. A duet is better."
"I wouldn't know. How did you get the flute?"
Tal turned it over in his hands, face coloring slightly in embarrassment. "The Yeerk assigned to me is a bit sentimental. He didn't want me to be bored here, especially since there isn't all that much company on this feeding cycle. So he managed to get hold of this--it was in one of the old Earth houses, a child's toy, I assume."
I nodded. A sympathetic Yeerk was a rare find, but Tal was apparently one of the lucky ones.
Just then, someone said, You remind me of the children.>
An adult Andalite stood in a cage a few feet away from us. Tal rolled his eyes slightly. "Don't mind him, please," he murmured. "He's really very nice, even if he is a little..." He made a slight gesture around one temple, a symbol of insanity that had spread beyond Earth.
I felt a chill of recognition--or no, not recognition, because I'd never seen him before. Something else. He seemed familiar, somehow, as if I knew him.
"What children?" I asked.
"Don't encourage him," Tal advised under his breath. I ignored him. I had to know.
The Andalite looked pleased to be listened to. The children of the Village. I met them, you know. They offered to take me in, but I didn't want to. I'm not really a child, now am I?>
For a moment a wild surge of speculation and hope rushed through me, but I pushed it down firmly. I was hardly the first to make a story about the legendary Village, after all. "No, I suppose not."
Now I think maybe I should have stayed,> he continued, stalk eyes fixed somewhere beyond the ceiling of the room. I'll never get another chance. But I couldn't. There was too much to do here still. I couldn't wait for them to consider me ready.> He looked at me. You're like them, somehow. Do you think I was right?> he asked, all four eyes almost pleading for me to tell him that he had been.
I wondered what to say. I wasn't even sure that he had been there at all. There was no way to tell for sure. But if...if it was true, and my story was becoming real... "I don't know. I think...I think they understand. I think you'll have a chance to help them yet."
Tal sighed softly. "You're only making it worse," he muttered.
The Andalite gave me a grateful smile with his main eyes. I believe you. You're the one who knows, after all, Cassandra.>
The cage suddenly seemed cold. "How did you know my name?" I demanded.
His expression turned puzzled. I don't know,> he replied. Maybe they told me who you were. I can't remember much of it any more.>
"And who--who am I?"
You're the author, of course. The Storyteller. You know who they are.> The Andalite smiled again, but this time it seemed sad, regretful. Remember me, won't you? My name is Palinit-Larins-Kiral.>
"Of course, Palinit," I promised. "I'll remember you."
"What was that?" Tal inquired. "Do you know what he's talking about?"
I nodded slowly. "It's a story I told. It isn't even finished yet. Palinit--someone like Palinit was in it. And there's no way he could have heard it yet."
Tal stared. "Could you tell me the story?" he asked finally.
"I'm not sure. How much time do we have before one of us is taken?"
He shrugged. "No idea. I'm a secondary host, and you aren't assigned yet. Plenty, most likely."
"All right, then." I smiled. "Here goes."
I told him everything I'd told Tovi and the others, and the part I'd recently told Tariss. Then I continued, into the newest part, the one that had formed even as I spoke with Palinit.
Karen watched anxiously, hoping that the Chee were right that their holograms blocked detection by the Yeerk sensors. Of course they were right; they had to be right, or they would long ago have been discovered; but she was still nervous.
Adults were appearing on the field in large groups, adults who had all been children in the world she had helped to create. As each group appeared, the Chee led them down into the huge underground area. Erek stood beside her, his eyes wide in wonder. "I thought you were exaggerating," he muttered, "or overestimating your forces, but this...where did they all come from? How?"
"That's...a long story. Let's just say we've been waiting for this for a long time." Karen smiled. "We'll need to contact the other resistance groups, get everyone working together, or this will never work. You're our best chance for that. You Chee can't be infested and can't give anything away. You can go nearly anywhere, be almost anyone. So you can tell the other groups about us."
Erek nodded. "It's probably the best choice," he agreed, "although it will be difficult getting the others to trust us. I don't suppose you have any Hawjabran among your group?"
Puzzled, Karen said, "There are a few. Not many--we mostly rescued former hosts. But some Hawjabran found their way in. Why?"
With a smile, Erek explained, "Hawjabran are generally trusted by the resistance groups, because they can't be infested. It'll still be tricky, but it'll be easier if you could send a Hawjabran with me."
Karen blinked. "You intend to go yourself? I had hoped you would stay here. I...wanted to talk with you."
"Actually, I think you'll want to be going somewhere yourself." Erek's smile became a wide grin. "We've made contact with Aftran. She's still alive."
Speechless for a moment, Karen stared, mouth open. "She is? How?"
"To tell the truth," Erek admitted, "we aren't exactly sure. The Animorphs rescued her and gave her the power to morph, and she chose a humpback whale to live in. But they don't normally live this long--especially with the way the oceans are these days."
Karen nodded. The Yeerks had purposely polluted air, land, and water almost everywhere. And Erek was right. There was no way Aftran could have survived for so long, not as a whale, not in those oceans. But if she was still alive--"Interference," Karen muttered. The Ellimist, no doubt. And that was never an entirely good thing.
Still, Karen felt a grin creep over her face. "You're right. I do want to talk with her. When can I?"
Erek shrugged. "As soon as we get our plans underway. One of the Chee will take you and find Aftran."
"Great. Let's get working, then."
"I like it," Tal told me as I came to the end of what I had so far. "It's a good story, and you tell it well. What's more, it even seems possible. I don't know how Palinit heard it, but I can see why he inserted himself into it."
I wasn't entirely certain about that, but I wasn't going to admit it to Tal. "I'm glad."
He glanced downward, toward the flute in his hands, toying with it, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Do you have any poems you could tell me? If you want, I could put them to music. I'm not bad at composing tunes, but words are beyond me."
I grinned at him. "I'd love it. There's one new poem I want everyone to hear, and this seems like the best way."
"Yeah, your poems are spreading around the galaxy, and tunes make them easier to remember."
My mouth dropped open. "Around the--you mean, off-planet? My poems, off-planet?"
Tal nodded vigorously. "Yeah! I heard the Council one on the Yeerk homeworld! I put it to a tune, and I wouldn't be surprised if it'd reached all the planets by now!"
Stunned, I stared at him. When he'd said he'd heard my poems, I had assumed that he meant here on Earth, that maybe he'd been in the same pool as I had on a different schedule at one time or another. And that poem on the Yeerk homeworld...I stifled a snicker. "O mighty Council! Your every decision/shall be honored and obeyed throughout/all worlds, for always your precision/and unanimity save the Empire--no doubt/even the hosts are eager to obey."
Tal joined in, his words to a cheerful, catchy tune. "O mighty Council! Your ambiguous/decrees and laws we follow strictly, for/they show all your kindness. Unanimous/you direct us in peace and in war/throughout time you show the way." He grinned. "I hear maybe they're going to make it the national anthem."
That time I couldn't suppress my laugh. "Thanks, Tal."
"So what's the new poem?"
I leaned back, putting my thoughts in order. "It's sort of an appeal for hope. Here goes.
Whispers echo through the night
Ignored till now, and yet
Words the silent people speak
They cannot soon forget.
Crashing thunder, pounding rain
Should drown out their murmur
But rolling through the planets now,
It's only growing stronger.
Whispers echo through the night
Of hope, of freedom, peace,
They try to crush the speakers,
But the whispers never cease.
I looked anxiously at Tal. His fingers were moving on his flute, almost unconsciously finding the notes to play. "Something like that, it's bordering on treason," he said soberly. "It could get you in trouble, Cassandra."
"I know. But it has to be done. Besides, you know they won't pay much attention, if any."
"Let's hope so."
Hesitantly, I pointed out, "Making the tune might get you in trouble, too."
He grinned. "Not much chance of that. I make up tunes all the time, even when they don't have words. Even if they decide to take it seriously, they wouldn't go after me."
"I'm game if you are, then."
In reply, he lifted the flute and played. A haunting melody seemed to fill the entire pool area. It wasn't cheerful, but then it wasn't depressing; I couldn't call it loud, but it wasn't soft; it certainly wasn't slow, and yet it was not fast-paced. But it was a tune that would stick in your head, one that would be impossible to forget. Perfect.
Tal paused several times to go back over a few notes, but it didn't take long for him to pronounce the song completed. We sang it together a few times, until I was sure I could remember it.
"Will anyone hear it?" I asked him.
He nodded. "Look around. The people in the cages on the other side of the pool, they heard it. The Controlled hosts, they heard it. Even the Controllers heard it. And they'll repeat it, sing it. Others will hear. The song will spread."
Tal sounded so certain. He'd seen more of life off-planet than I had, been transferred more often, knew more about most everything. I wished I could be so sure.
He looked at me suddenly, speculation in his eyes. "Why is it so important, Cassandra? It's a message, I know that much, but to who?"
I forced a laugh. "If I told you, you'd just say I was crazy. Not to any of the rebel groups, if that's what you're thinking." Not exactly, at any rate. "How could I be part of any of that? I'm getting transferred, after all."
"No," Tal said, "I don't believe you have anything to do with the rebels. But you're a Storyteller. It's all right for you to be a little crazy." He turned away, his voice lower, sad. "We all are, to some extent. I'm sorry for what I said about Palinit," he added. "He just annoys me sometimes. It was for your characters, wasn't it? The song?"
I nodded reluctantly. "Indirectly. I don't know, Tal, I just feel like...like we don't have long to wait. Like something's going to happen, something big." I grinned, abashed. "My Yeerk would laugh."
I'd always thought that was a strange phrasing--'my Yeerk'. As though it were the hosts who were in control. Of course, every once in a while, I thought maybe we were.
"Well," Tal told me, "if you're right...I'll be ready. So will others. Cassandra, I don't think you'll ever know how much difference your poems and stories make."
No difference at all,> sneered an Andalite voice I recognized. Sub-Visser Sixty-two stood there, expression arrogant, stance disdainful. As though anything you hosts do could make any difference.>
If we really can't, why do you care? I thought silently. But as heedless as I usually was of Yeerk rules, I kept my silence. No point in angering the sub-visser. No doubt he'd be glad of any excuse to be rid of a potential troublemaker.
Well,> he said finally, apparently slightly disappointed. I had hoped you had a bit more spirit. No matter, I suppose. Your reassignment is here.> He looked at the Hork-Bajir-Controllers, who immediately snapped to attention and hurried toward the cages. One unlocked the door to our cell. The other headed for Palinit's cage. I watched him, wondering briefly whether the Andalite could possibly be Tariss's new host.
The Hork-Bajir reached for me, and I accepted her assistance in standing. No use even trying to resist. Besides, I was curious who I had been assigned to.
"Bye," Tal whispered.
I managed a small wave in acknowledgement. Then we'd reached the end of the pier, and my head was submerged in the pool liquid.
