translated by DawningStar
I'd thought I was ready for anything she could say. I was wrong. You want to what?>
I want to be a Storyteller,> she repeated more firmly. I want to know how you create stories, poems, the way you do. And I want to be able to do it myself.>
I was speechless. There was a long moment of silence, as Riae held back from my mind and I tried to grasp what she was asking. Why? You already know all my stories, know how I tell them.>
Yes,> she agreed, but I couldn't make my own just from that. I could retell any of your stories exactly the same as you do, but never tell an original idea. I need your help.>
Still, why would you want to know?>
Another long, uncomfortable silence. Finally she said, I admire your kind.>
Humans, you mean?>
No. Storytellers. You are a race all your own. I have thought so since I first met one of you.> Riae hesitated. I could show you...but you wouldn't like the seeing.>
I shuddered very slightly. There was really only one way Riae could have met a Storyteller that fit that hesitation, and that was if she had been supervising an execution team. Most high-ranked Yeerks did, sooner or later. No, I likely wouldn't.>
So...> Riae asked tentatively, will you?>
Yes,> I said, I will. I don't know if I can really teach you anything, but I'll try.>
I felt her relax in relief, and felt astonished. She really wanted to know this. Riae, a Yeerk, a very high-ranking Yeerk, had come extraordinarily close to begging a mere host to tell her something.
There's still quite a bit of time on the trip,> she suggested. We could get started. No telling when we'll have another chance.>
She was right. I sighed mentally. Very well, then.>
"The major Yeerk Pools are here, here, and here," Karen said, tapping each one on the three-dimensional hologram on the table before her. "They are all well protected, far underground and covered with layers of heavy metals. The Vissers in charge of Earth have their base here. But they don't often stay there."
We can't attack the pools,> Dalia said. There are too many people there, hosts and Controllers. And attacking the Vissers' base wouldn't do much good either.>
"Right," Karen nodded. "But we have another option. There's a relatively minor host rebellion in Arrain Eram--that's human Old New York--"
"Old New York?" repeated Daren in disbelief. "Who came up with that name?"
Karen shrugged. "I think it probably began as a joke, but these days nobody really remembers what it meant. In any case, despite the fact that the rebellion consists entirely of about fifty people, almost half of which are hosts that were abandoned as useless and then not killed, the Yeerks are sending in several fairly important people to take care of it. It's the principle of the thing--can't have rebellion seen as successful, or everyone would be trying it."
Right,> agreed Dalia. That's sound military thinking.>
"Course nobody thinks of actually changing things, so nobody would want to rebel," muttered Tari Hamee.
Faieya grinned at the Hork-Bajir seer. "Nobody except you, Tari, so get started drafting plans for the changes."
"Anyway," Karen said sternly. "According to the Chee, at least one of the higher-ranked Yeerks on Earth has become sympathetic with the human cause--a recently demoted Visser. Nobody knows quite why. A particularly persuasive host, perhaps, a bad experience, a betrayal by other Yeerks, or a combination of any of those--"
"Or a trick," Faieya interrupted skeptically. The tabby-patterned Naharan's ears were flattened, a sure sign of her tension.
"That possibility has been taken into account as well. Even with that, she seems our best chance. We already have one high-placed ally--you all know who he is, of course?"
All four nodded.
"But even among the Yeerks, one person can't do it alone. We need more help."
"You're right," Daren admitted. "How will we make contact? Vissers aren't exactly easy to talk to."
"We'll use one of the symbiote pairs. They can get in most easily. Um...probably Ilie/Rena. They're pretty well adjusted, they've absorbed the information, and you all know they're good actors."
Daren grimaced. He'd been tricked more than once by that pair in the Games.
Erek, listening from one corner, frowned. "What do you mean, symbiote pair?"
Wincing slightly, Karen said, "We didn't tell you about them before. We thought you might not like it. We protected everyone in the Village--that includes a few Yeerks. None of us can exactly be infested any more--I mean, it's possible, but the Yeerk is likely to start seeing things differently not long afterward. A few voluntary hosts found their way in and chose to stay along with their Yeerks. Ilie was one of the first. She and Rena didn't want to be separated, so they've both been...shifted. Rena now has partial control, and Ilie no longer needs Kandrona rays so long as they're together."
The android stared for a moment. "You're right, I don't like it. Are you sure they can be trusted?"
Dalia rolled her eyes. They wouldn't be here if we weren't.>
Erek held up his hands. "All right, sorry. It's just been so long...we've begun to forget what we were fighting for in the first place."
"And what was that?" Faieya asked innocently. Erek shot her an annoyed look, and she grinned.
"No teasing," Karen admonished the Naharan. "We have too much to do to play around."
"Sorry," the other said unapologetically. "I'll go find Ilie/Rena while you guys work out the kinks in the plan, shall I?" She darted away, leaving the rest to look after her with expressions ranging from amusement to exasperation.
There's no guarantee I can teach you,> I warned again. It doesn't always matter how much someone wants to learn. There've been a few who loved the stories, but just couldn't tell their own. It takes a certain...> I paused. Talent wasn't right, nor was aptitude. Gift came closer, but still didn't quite describe it. A certain...> It did take determination, but that wasn't what I was looking for either. Well, something,> I gave up finally.
And Yeerks have never been known for their creativity,> Riae agreed with a hint of humor. Even our technology we stole from other races. Any new developments now mostly come from the hosts of scientists, not the scientists themselves.>
I hadn't known that. But the Yeerks prefer weak-minded hosts...>
There are many definitions of weak, Cassandra. For the most part, we do try for hosts unable to resist our control. But...well, you are considered a weak host. You do not fight, you don't try to resist. Not the way they think of resistance.>
I thought of the Chee, of Tal's songs, of my own stories and poems. There are many definitions of resistance as well.>
She gave a mental smile, keeping our real face straight. I know.>
What should I teach you first?> I wondered aloud, trying to remember how I had been taught. It had been sort of an informal thing, as far as I recalled--an older Storyteller had been a part of my cagegroup, I'd expressed my interest, and eventually he'd taught me.
But first he'd explained the disadvantages to becoming a Storyteller, such as a young death and contempt from the Yeerks and even other hosts. I had told him I still wanted to do it, that I didn't think I could not do it, and he'd smiled and begun to explain the basics of Storytelling. Not the stories themselves, but the way of looking at the world...how to find the stories.
"There are stories everywhere, Cassandra," he'd said pensively. "Once you know how to look, that part is easy. And telling the stories...that will come with practice. You'll find it seems the best thing you've ever done. The hard part, for us, is our audiences. Even the Yeerks listen."
I felt Riae keeping respectfully back from my memories, and might have laughed out loud at the absurdity of the whole thing if it had been possible. The first thing I was taught was how to find stories,> I said. How to look at the world. I'm sure you already know what you're getting yourself into.>
Yes,> she agreed, almost in a whisper. I caught a leaked glimpse of a memory. A human man, standing on the platforms used for disintegration, a look of something like pity in his dark eyes, and still telling his last story...
I shivered, hoping I'd be so brave when the Yeerks finally decided I'd grown too dangerous to live. There are stories everywhere,> I began. The important thing is knowing how to look...>
"You've been on the Andalite Homeworld for the last few years, working for Visser Six. You've just been reassigned to Visser Thirty-seven. I managed to keep your name the same. Just report to her headquarters in Arrain Eram, and they ought to let you in."
"All right," Ilie nodded. She looked searchingly at the android in front of her. "You don't like us, do you?"
The holographic image of a human face tightened. "No, I don't. I find anyone who chooses to let a Yeerk control them very hard to like."
You knew we'd find this,> Rena reminded. Even the newcomers to the Village felt the same way. He'll come around.>
I know.> But it was impossible for the Yeerk to hide her emotions from her human partner, and at the moment she was feeling hurt at Erek's rejection. "Rena and I are friends, Erek. Is that so hard to understand? Didn't you control a Yeerk--without their permission? Don't judge us, Erek."
His jaw clenched in resentment. "You have no right--" he began.
"No right? And what right do you have to question us?" Ilie broke off and took a deep, calming breath.
Rena pushed her way into control. "It's Rena, now," she informed him. "Ilie and I have spent the last thirty years, subjectively, in the Village."
"I don't want to hear it," Erek gritted.
"I was involuntary, once. Then I met Ilie, and we became friends, of a sort. Eventually, I rescued her when she got in trouble for rebellion, disloyal sentiments, and we escaped together."
"I don't want to hear this," Erek repeated, beginning to turn away, anger clear in his expression.
"And then we found the Village. We just stumbled onto a trail one night, running away from everyone. It was impossible, a tiny trail that led right off a major road, it would never be allowed...but we were being chased by Taxxons and neither of us was in any mood to complain. I don't know why it was there. Karen's never told me how people enter the Village, if it's pure chance or some design."
Erek was no longer looking at them, but neither was he walking away. Rena took that as a good sign. She pressed on.
"We'd been almost as close as Yeerk and host can get, before. But even that involves a certain amount of fear and distrust. How could I completely trust someone who could crush me entirely, never even let me speak? How could she make friends with someone she'd been taught all her life was little better than an animal, someone she could control with a moment's thought?"
Now he had begun to lose the angry set to his shoulders. Feeling hopeful that perhaps she was getting through, Rena continued, "Karen, the Villagers, they changed that. They made it possible for Ilie and I to become equal partners." She smiled. "I'm not even sure how they did it. But somehow, they changed me to produce Kandrona rays, and Ilie so that she could no longer have total control over me."
Erek looked back toward them. "I can't trust you," he said bluntly. "Maybe it's a character flaw of mine, to be slow in forgiving. But we've spent too much time fighting the Yeerks for me to trust one."
Rena nodded. "We understand that. We don't expect your trust, or friendship. But couldn't you at least try to respect us? Understand us?"
Very slowly, Erek bent his head in acquiescence. Then he hurried away.
That went about as well as could be expected,> Rena remarked.
Ilie, too, had lost much of her anger. Thank you, Rena,> she said sincerely. I overreacted. I am sorry.>
Don't worry about it. You just take care of things, and I'll patch up your messes.>
Ilie laughed silently. But there was a good deal of truth in it. The reason the two made such good partners was, in part, that Ilie was talkative and could speak her mind regardless of the consequences, while Rena understood far better the people around her but had a tendency to be overly cautious.
Do you really think we can do this?> Rena asked, somber again.
Yes,> Ilie replied, I do. No one questions a Visser's orders, even a suspected traitor's, and the Chee network is excellent at getting and falsifying information. Despite their faults.>
And convincing the Visser?>
That won't be easy, more than likely. You must admit the story sounds improbable.>
Karen said this one would have a reason to believe us.>
Wish we knew what it was.>
Rena sighed. You ever get the feeling she thinks it's funny not to tell us anything and then watch our faces when we find out?>
Her friend laughed again.
Beautiful,> Riae scoffed. How can you find any beauty in...in that?> She made a tiny, quickly aborted gesture out the window. Sickly yellow clouds roiled against the wind created by the passing ship, and the stars above were faintly visible, the thick atmosphere clouding them even this far up. It's poison, a sign of our contamination of your world.>
Well, yes. But it's beautiful.> I sighed mentally. The argument had continued for a full half-hour now. Probably it was more beautiful before. But even yet you can't get rid of its beauty.>
Explain it again,> Riae requested pleadingly. I'm sorry, Cassandra. I'm trying, I really am, but I just don't see it.>
Baffled, I looked out the window again. How do you explain something like that? It's in the complexity, the random patterns,> I mused. The way the wind blows the clouds, and the color reflects off the water vapor, and the way it looks solid but isn't. The shapes. You can almost see pictures in the clouds, if you unfocus your eyes and look at them the right way.>
Riae tilted our head and stared out with eyes just slightly crossed. I don't get it. What does this have to do with Storytelling, anyhow?>
Maybe this hadn't been the best way to start. Riae had been trained from the first time she'd infested a host to see order as the way the world was supposed to be, I realized suddenly, to create simplicity of complexity. She just couldn't handle the chaotic complexity of a human's--no, a Storyteller's worldview.
All right, we'll leave that for later. You want to learn to tell stories, so let's do that.>
Thank you,> Riae said in tremendous relief. Once again I shook my head at the ludicrousness of the entire thing.
I don't suppose you already have any ideas?> I felt Riae's negative answer before she could even say it. All right. I'll start you off this time, then. Tell me a story about...um...about...the Battle of Leera. Tell it however you like, but focus on one person.>
There was a long pause. How should I start?> Riae asked finally.
Well, 'once upon a time' is traditional. So is 'a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,' if it's appropriate. Or you could just jump right in.>
Once upon a time,> she began uncertainly, there was a Yeerk named...named Kilani Five-Three-Two, of...the Sulp Niar Pool. She was a human-Controller at the time, and she had just been assigned to Visser Four's blade ship...>
I listened carefully to her short tale, trying hard to keep any opinions suppressed below the level of thought until I'd heard it all. It wasn't long, only a few minutes, and it was obvious Riae didn't have much experience...but there was the feeling in her words that was a necessity of a good tale. Riae wasn't a Storyteller, not yet...but she was becoming one.
Many thanks to the people who have reviewed this story (it's all your fault I've continued), and especially to Anifan1.
