I was walking back from a soccer game. I enjoy soccer. Yeerks enjoy most sports. Athletics is, in many ways the culmination of the physical experience. And the physical experience is all we want, when you get right down to it. It also helped that Jordan enjoyed soccer, and was quite good at it. Although she wasn't happy with me at the moment.
{What'd I say? I said pass left. Left! If you had passed left, Mindy would have gotten it, dropped it back to Angie, who could have dribbled it up to the goal, where Jeanette was cherry-picking! But nooo. The Slug Who Thought It Could Play Soccer kicked the ball right, and Erica headed it. And where did she head it? To the other team's best player, of course! Thereby closing the gap, thereby allowing them to almost win in the last five minutes!}
Jordan had gotten into a habit of maintaining a whining monologue. Since I never spoke to her, she ran a constant commentary on my actions, and critiqued and insulted every poor choice that I made. She reminded me of a movie she had seen on TV once. "Mystery Science Fiction Theater 3000." We had, in fact, won the soccer game, but the important thing to her was proving that she was smarter than me.
I shifted her backpack higher, whistling a human tune called, "We Are the Champions."
{I hate that song. Cut it out.}
I whistled louder, kicking a rock into the tall grass. Overall, life was good. I had slipped into the role of Jordan quite easily. And despite the complexities and Jordan's complaints, her life was a fairly carefree one. I had allowed her grades to slowly rise under my care, so that now she was afforded many more priviledges than she had been permitted previously. Mom was happier with her than ever. Best of all, I had a host. I could see and feel and smell and taste and hear.
The only jarring notes were Rachel and her friends, and a strange, low-level guilt that ran beneath the surface of my mind. It's hard to explain, especially to another Yeerk. I felt as if I shouldn't have been permitted to gain access to Jordan's mind. As if I was somehow being invasive. Maybe it was just my way of dealing with something that was too good to be true.
I looked up. It had gotten cloudy over the past few minutes. I unconsciously tugged Jordan's mouth muscles down into a frown. It looked like it was going to be yet another rainy day. The shadows that had stood out against the bright sunlight earlier in the afternoon now blended into a gloom that clung to the world.
"Not rain again," I muttered with Jordan's tongue.
{You had better get us inside fast, buster. I do NOT want to get wet right now.}
I agreed with her. I tightened the straps on her backpack, and broke into a light jog. The soccer field was a good ten minutes from home, though. I could smell the humidity coming after me like a predator. Jordan would get good and soaked.
The soccer field stood on one of those little parks that dot suburbia. To get home, I had to cross two fields, then a three-lane highway, then wind my way through the rabbit warden of houses to Jordan's residence. Mom always worried about me crossing that highway. I usually had to wait at least five minutes before I could run to the median strip, then again until I made it all the way to the other side. That would lengthen the walk home intolerably.
I changed direction slightly. There was a place a stream ran underneath the road. They had constructed the road overtop of the stream, fitting it with a bridge big enough for anybody wading in the stream to walk under comfortably. Surrounding it was one of those small, tangled woods that construction workers knock down whenever they start a new building project.
{Aw, man, you're going through the culvert? That means you're going to go down that steep hill, avoid the briars, pick your way through the trees, walk under the creepy bridge, up the steep hill, through the mud, and up to home? Listen, if you're trying to keep clean, you'd be better off just standing in the rain.}
I ignored her. The woods would offer protection from the rain. And if all else failed, I could wait out the storm under the bridge.
{If I get cut, bruised, soaked, or scared, I'll make you real sorry,} Jordan warned me.
She would, too. One time, when I was feeding, she had given herself a black eye. It hurt her, but it hurt me too, and it got me in trouble with Mom, who figured I had been fighting in school. So I worked my way quite carefully through the woods. Soon, the rain came. The trees offered some protection, but not enough. After just a few minutes, I was drenched and miserable.
Then I felt something was there. I looked up.
An impossibly large shape loomed in front of me. A bear. It was a bear, and it was just standing there, watching me.
"Aah!" I yelped, freezing.
The bear didn't move.
Jordan began to panic. I tried to think. Running wouldn't help, Jordan's mind told me that bears could easily outrun people. Maybe if I just backed away slowly . . .
The bear's eyes watched me with cunning intelligence. They picked me apart. There was sentience behind the bear's eyes.
That's when I knew. I had heard of the Andalite bandits. One of them preferred to use the body of a bear to incur its wrath.
"Hello, Andalite," I said, with my little girl's voice.
{Andalite!?} Jordan cried in delight.
{Hello, Yeerk,} the Andalite responded. Then there was a flash of orange and black, and the world went black.
{What'd I say? I said pass left. Left! If you had passed left, Mindy would have gotten it, dropped it back to Angie, who could have dribbled it up to the goal, where Jeanette was cherry-picking! But nooo. The Slug Who Thought It Could Play Soccer kicked the ball right, and Erica headed it. And where did she head it? To the other team's best player, of course! Thereby closing the gap, thereby allowing them to almost win in the last five minutes!}
Jordan had gotten into a habit of maintaining a whining monologue. Since I never spoke to her, she ran a constant commentary on my actions, and critiqued and insulted every poor choice that I made. She reminded me of a movie she had seen on TV once. "Mystery Science Fiction Theater 3000." We had, in fact, won the soccer game, but the important thing to her was proving that she was smarter than me.
I shifted her backpack higher, whistling a human tune called, "We Are the Champions."
{I hate that song. Cut it out.}
I whistled louder, kicking a rock into the tall grass. Overall, life was good. I had slipped into the role of Jordan quite easily. And despite the complexities and Jordan's complaints, her life was a fairly carefree one. I had allowed her grades to slowly rise under my care, so that now she was afforded many more priviledges than she had been permitted previously. Mom was happier with her than ever. Best of all, I had a host. I could see and feel and smell and taste and hear.
The only jarring notes were Rachel and her friends, and a strange, low-level guilt that ran beneath the surface of my mind. It's hard to explain, especially to another Yeerk. I felt as if I shouldn't have been permitted to gain access to Jordan's mind. As if I was somehow being invasive. Maybe it was just my way of dealing with something that was too good to be true.
I looked up. It had gotten cloudy over the past few minutes. I unconsciously tugged Jordan's mouth muscles down into a frown. It looked like it was going to be yet another rainy day. The shadows that had stood out against the bright sunlight earlier in the afternoon now blended into a gloom that clung to the world.
"Not rain again," I muttered with Jordan's tongue.
{You had better get us inside fast, buster. I do NOT want to get wet right now.}
I agreed with her. I tightened the straps on her backpack, and broke into a light jog. The soccer field was a good ten minutes from home, though. I could smell the humidity coming after me like a predator. Jordan would get good and soaked.
The soccer field stood on one of those little parks that dot suburbia. To get home, I had to cross two fields, then a three-lane highway, then wind my way through the rabbit warden of houses to Jordan's residence. Mom always worried about me crossing that highway. I usually had to wait at least five minutes before I could run to the median strip, then again until I made it all the way to the other side. That would lengthen the walk home intolerably.
I changed direction slightly. There was a place a stream ran underneath the road. They had constructed the road overtop of the stream, fitting it with a bridge big enough for anybody wading in the stream to walk under comfortably. Surrounding it was one of those small, tangled woods that construction workers knock down whenever they start a new building project.
{Aw, man, you're going through the culvert? That means you're going to go down that steep hill, avoid the briars, pick your way through the trees, walk under the creepy bridge, up the steep hill, through the mud, and up to home? Listen, if you're trying to keep clean, you'd be better off just standing in the rain.}
I ignored her. The woods would offer protection from the rain. And if all else failed, I could wait out the storm under the bridge.
{If I get cut, bruised, soaked, or scared, I'll make you real sorry,} Jordan warned me.
She would, too. One time, when I was feeding, she had given herself a black eye. It hurt her, but it hurt me too, and it got me in trouble with Mom, who figured I had been fighting in school. So I worked my way quite carefully through the woods. Soon, the rain came. The trees offered some protection, but not enough. After just a few minutes, I was drenched and miserable.
Then I felt something was there. I looked up.
An impossibly large shape loomed in front of me. A bear. It was a bear, and it was just standing there, watching me.
"Aah!" I yelped, freezing.
The bear didn't move.
Jordan began to panic. I tried to think. Running wouldn't help, Jordan's mind told me that bears could easily outrun people. Maybe if I just backed away slowly . . .
The bear's eyes watched me with cunning intelligence. They picked me apart. There was sentience behind the bear's eyes.
That's when I knew. I had heard of the Andalite bandits. One of them preferred to use the body of a bear to incur its wrath.
"Hello, Andalite," I said, with my little girl's voice.
{Andalite!?} Jordan cried in delight.
{Hello, Yeerk,} the Andalite responded. Then there was a flash of orange and black, and the world went black.