Aximili's Headache
What?! Issetha repeated shrilly.
"I sent a call to Sub-Visser 15, Etnor 323…"
WHAT?!! Issetha shrieked, once again, and Aximili felt his tail flying up behind him. Etnor?
Essar made his host nod. "I betrayed you, and I'm sorry, but… but for the good of the Peace Movement, for that secret entrance, and for my beloved Tesma… oh, gadrak, they've taken my Tesma…" he shuddered, his chin falling down towards his chest, before looking up again, now with tears in his eyes. "I have no choice! They'll be here any moment. I'm sorry, Issetha, but… but…"
Marco had, as soon as he realised what was going on, darted towards the nearest window peer outside. "But they're already here." He'd been holding a curtain aside, and now let it drop back across the window. His gaze found Aximili's, and he did not look pleased.
I did not know, Aximili said lowly.
"I'll take your word for it," Marco growled, beginning to morph osprey. "For now. But remind me to be very angry with your Yeerk if we survive."
It is not her fault! Aximili protested. He noted through a stalk that the Essar and his host had disappeared back up to the top floor. But he was quickly becoming a minor problem – compared to more urgent ones.
"Well, it certainly isn't my fault," Marco spat. He had begun reversing the morph, hearing heavy Hork-Bajir footfalls in the hallway, coming closer and closer… they must have been waiting nearby, Aximili realised grimly, which meant that this was all a trap!
It was too late to morph and fly away. It was time to morph for battle.
I shall keep them back while you morph, Aximili offered. He leapt to the doorway; there, they could only face him one at the time. But the onslaught was heavy, he was tired from the long day, and it was hard to keep his ground.
That Issetha was trembling in the back of his head did not help either. It was very disturbing, especially as she let out a wail when his tail-blade struck the head of the first Hork-Bajir, splitting his skull. The distressed mental cry distracted Aximili so that he nearly had his own skull split.
Silence! he snarled at the Yeerk, and she grew quiet; her trembling died down as she steeled herself. But each time his strikes drew blood she flinched, as if it was her own blood being spilt; he could feel how queasy she felt, and the nausea was dangerously closing to spreading to him. He pushed it out of his mind; he had no time for it.
Marco finished morphing just as Aximili's third foe went down. About then a Hork-Bajir-Controller had the brilliant idea of tearing her way through the wall instead of attempting to fight past Aximili. Of course, a couple more followed her.
As Marco charged them, the sound of dracons being fired came from the windows where they had flown in. Human-Controllers with dracons had positioned themselves there, and were firing inside.
Marco barrelled out through the hole in the wall, into the corridor, to avoid the dracons, but Aximili felt a sharp pain on his flank and he staggered to the side as his right back leg momentarily gave up. The Hork-Bajir swarmed through the doorway at this sudden opportunity and Aximili found himself faced by five sets of flashing blades, all from different directions. He pranced away, shutting out the pain in his flank as he shut out the distracting presence of Issetha.
She did not like killing, he remembered. She'd been right. She really did not like it. Some part of him – that was not involved in the art of using his tail to slash, cut and parry – wished he'd had time and concentration so spare, in order to say a calming word or two… but – as he parried one striking blade and danced out of reach from two others – there was no time and no concentration to be used on anything else than the enemy.
Unless he wanted to be killed, of course; but he could not be killed. Not right then. His fellow Animorphs needed him, and so did Issetha. He could not afford to be killed.
No sooner had he finished that though before another dracon hit him; straight at his neck. The pain was blinding. Having hit the nerve centre in his spine, it spread out as far as up to his stalks and down his hooves, and a spasm went through his body before his muscles all went limp. His sight turned into a white blur; his legs folded beneath him and he fell to the floor, feeling as if he was merely watching another Andalite fall, from a distance. He was watching that other Andalite fight to make his body obey him and roll out of the way of the blade that was descending toward his throat, all too quickly but still so, so slowly.
He was watching that other Andalite realise it was no use; the dracon and the pain had stunned him; not his mind, but his body. It would not obey him. He watched silent resignation flash past that Andalite's face; a tired, worn-out expression, simply an echo of the knowledge that it was no use. His muscles would not listen to his orders.
…but they would listen to that mind over his own. They obeyed Issetha, who had more direct control; she made Aximili's upper body jerk back and out of the way; she forced him to roll up to his hooves and, even though he staggered to his knees as soon as she let go, she had put enough distance between him and the Hork-Bajir to give him the precious second he needed to recover. He had, also, ended up in the doorway to the kitchen, and there the dracons would not be able to reach him.
Thank you, Issetha, he said to the Yeerk, taking a moment to wonder at still being alive. You… I believe you save my life.
But as he raised his tail and blocked a blade that was coming at his shoulder, he felt a sudden attack of nausea. He stumbled, only chance saving him from the second blade. He felt weak. And, just then…
Whoa, Ax, you better morph! Marco called, suddenly beside him and sending a Hork-Bajir flying into a wall with a careless swipe of his arm. He glanced around, caught a nearby Hork-Bajir by the shoulder with both hands, and threw the creature through the kitchen window. There. Exit arranged. Now leave and morph.
Aximili staggered towards the crushed window, not sure if he or Issetha was moving his legs. He did however know that it was Issetha who turned one of his stalks to stare down at his neck and back. It was not a pretty sight. The skin on his neck and down over his shoulders was blackened, burnt, and the blood was flowing freely from the wound. Freely, and all too quickly.
Can you get out the window? Marco asked. He had tossed the refrigerator and the dishwasher across the doorway to the living room, and the stove and the table at the doorway out to the corridor, momentarily blocking out the Hork-Bajir. But it would not take long for them to either go round to the outside of the house, or punch through a wall, or simply remove the obstacles.
I'll help him, Issetha told the gorilla, and assumed control of Aximili's body. His mind sank gratefully into a grey fog as the Yeerk steered his weakened limbs towards and through the broken window.
The fog enveloped him, and he welcomed it, welcomed the comfort of its support, that sense of all his pain and fear falling away… he wished he could stay there forever, and let out a mental sigh of relief as the fog began overtaking everything else, as everything began to fade…
Stay awake, Aximili… whispered Issetha from somewhere far away. Don't leave me. Don't fall away. Stay awake. Don't you dare leave me.
The Yeerk's voice woke him up. Suddenly the fog was something he had to fight. Fighting it was much harder than welcoming it, he noticed quickly, and although he tried to keep it away it closed around him like a net and defied his attempts to break free. Although voices still sounded as if they were far away, he heard Marco's grim question; You still there?
I am, his own voice replied, but it was Issetha speaking – and there was a note of despair in her voice. Aximili is slipping away. I can hardly reach him!
Then make him morph! Marco snapped angrily. Now!
Issetha must have done just that, for the fog began to let go, and Aximili suddenly found himself in his harrier morph. The weakness that had settled over his limbs had let go – and given way to complete exhaustion.
He's back? wondered Marco, who was morphing osprey as quickly as he could. Hork-Bajir were coming out of the house. For the moment, they were hidden behind the fence and thick bushes that formed the border between Essar's yard and his neighbours', and the wary human-Controllers that were walking around with their dracons ready to fire had obviously failed to spot them.
I am right here, Aximili told him tiredly.
Marco nodded his osprey head. Good. Come on. Walk… along the fence. We need to get some distance from those human-Controllers before we attempt to fly. I'm not in the mood for barbeque – especially not as the main meal.
The Hork-Bajir are approaching, Issetha reminded them both. And they'll see over the fence.
This way, said Marco. He wobbled off along the fence on his short osprey legs, keeping close to the bushes. Aximili followed. They went all the way to the back corner of the yard before taking flight.
Dracons and angry yells followed them, but aside from a few signed feathers there was no harm done.
"What now?" Marco asked, once they felt more or less safe and had landed on a roof to demorph. He was sitting cross-legged and looking up at Aximili who was standing with his tail held low. We've just wasted a pretty two and a half hours. The estimation was five. Which means that we've got barely two hours and a half hours left.
There is one more person we could ask, Issetha said.
"A Controller," Marco snarled. "That worked out well the last time. That worked out so well. You almost got your host killed, Yeerk. Is that what you wanted? And, more importantly, I was in a tight spot back there as well. All thanks to you."
I didn't know about that! Issetha growled back, assuming control of Aximili's body and glaring down at the human Animorph. She spun her host away and paced a few steps in frustration as Marco only scowled at her. I don't want my host killed. I don't. I was the one who made him morph, remember? I was the one who saved him! Why would I do that if I wanted him killed?
Could you kindly stop speaking of me as if I am not here?! Aximili demanded privately.
Sorry, snapped Issetha, before turning back to Marco and continuing; Look, there are two ways into this pool network where your friends are kept. One goes through the pool. It's meant to usually be open, but as soon as there's an Animorph in there they were planning to close it, and now with four Animorphs they must have done so. It's closed, and Visser One has the access codes. Visser One, and no-one else. If you want to ask him for them, then go right ahead.
Marco scowled some more, but suddenly his eyes closed and he shook his head heavily, admitting that Issetha had a point.
The other way is the secret entrance, Issetha said in a softer voice. Three Yeerks know where it is. Three Yeerks, and the Taxxons they used for digging, but Taxxons forget if you feed them to forget.
They truly forget? Aximili wondered softly.
As if it had never even happened – they'll do anything for food, Issetha assured him privately, and to both him and Marco she went on with; Essar is no longer trustworthy. Tesma… well, from what Essar said it is safe to assume that both his and Tesma's cover has been blown; my people know they are Resistance members. They're both in trouble… Her voice trailed off for a moment and Aximili could feel how she wondered if there was anything she could do. He tried to keep his thoughts to himself, but Issetha noted them and sighed. You're probably right; there's nothing we can do.
"And the third?" asked Marco.
Othil 472, Sub-Visser 17.
"You know, the term 'Sub-Visser' doesn't really help me trust this guy."
If we want to help Prince Jake and the others, this Othil is our only chance, Aximili said lowly.
"Is that the Ax-man speaking?"
Yes, it is.
Marco grimaced. "I hate having no choice. Let's just get this over with." And without another word, he began morphing his osprey.
Again Issetha led the way. They flew in silence; there was not much to be said. Not even Aximili and his Yeerk spoke to each other, before…
You're going to like Othil, Issetha predicted lowly.
I am? Aximili questioned.
Yes. His host – voluntary host, for your information – is a baker. He specializes in buns.
Cinnabons? Aximili said hopefully.
Correct, Issetha affirmed with a mental smile.
Aximili spent a moment thriving in that knowledge before; I have a question.
Then ask.
How does a member of the Peace Movement rise to the rank of Sub-Visser?
He was a Sub-Visser before joining the Peace Movement. He joined because his family had done so.
And Yeerks take their families seriously.
Correct.
Issetha guided them to an apartment building in a less respectable part of the city, and the two birds of prey landed on a balcony railing.
I'm going to stick to my gorilla morph this time, Marco announced. I don't trust this at all.
Aximili simply leapt from the railing and to the open window, landing there for a second before dropping to the floor. He began demorphing as well while Marco followed him inside. Marco kept muttering about having to do two morphs directly after each other.
While Essar and Tesma's home had been sparsely furnished, Othil's home was – simply put – a dump. There was one sofa, one small, old TV, and a book shelf with very few books in it, but all the more dust. The living room was separated from the kitchen a cluttered stretch of kitchen counter, standing out from the wall, and the tiny hallway leading from the living room contained only three doors. Othil! Issetha called, this time adding; It's me, Issetha! Are you home?
A round, smiling face peeked up from behind the kitchen counter between the kitchen and the living room. "Oh," said the man. "It's only you." He tossed a handheld dracon nonchalantly over his shoulder and came out from his hiding place.
One of Aximili's stalks noted that Marco had finished his morph to gorilla. Marco proceeded to lumber over to the sofa and sit down, ignoring its protesting creaks.
"Be careful with that!" Othil warned. "Or I'll make you pay for it."
Marco looked up at him in surprise. Exactly how do you plan to do that?
"I'll think of something," Othil assured him. "Now then, Issetha, why are you here? Your favourite uncle is very angry with you."
He knows it was me?
Othil nodded grimly. "He knows. He knows all too well. If he knew you were alive… if he knew you were here… Well, let's just say my life would be pretty much over and leave it at that. I won't go into any details about what he'd do to you… and your host."
By then Aximili had – unavoidably – caught sight of the plate of cinnabons placed on the counter.
"Have one," Othil offered in an offhand manner, seeing the Andalite's greedy glance.
Aximili grabbed the plate eagerly, drew it closer, and began morphing human. Then he caught himself, and sent a questioning stalk towards Marco.
Oh, go on, Marco said, leaning back in the sofa – which did not look especially happy under the gorilla's massive bulk.
Aximili quickly finished the morph to human and began eating the bun that had been unfortunate enough to top the pile.
Issetha says you know something about a secret entrance, Marco said to the Controller, who stood watching Aximili eat with some degree of fascination.
"If we Yeerks had known about this," said Othil, gesturing towards Aximili. "We'd have caught you all long ago."
You're not telling anyone, Marco snapped quickly.
Othil's human host shook his head forcefully. "Of – of course not."
Now tell me about this entrance, Marco ordered, the expression in his dark gorilla eyes now wary.
"Let's see. It's… there's an old warehouse south of town… big, grey building with three thin towers. Lots of windows, red roof that's beginning to lose its colour. It's next to a mental institution and there's a gas station not far away… follow the main road that goes past the Mall and you can't miss it. One of the doors on the south side – a large, metal one that has a lock that looks broken – doesn't actually lead into the building. It leads –"
The cinnabons are gone! Aximili exclaimed suddenly. His eyes narrowed.
You just ate them, said the same voice, now with a dry note to it.
"I did not!" Aximili replied, glaring around him as he could not glare into his own head.
I'm afraid you did.
But… but there were at least twelve! the Andalite wailed, shifting freely between spoken speech and thought-speech in a way that was very distracting.
And you ate them. The Yeerk's tone turned almost affectionate as she continued; You're obsessed with cinnabons, Aximili.
Okay, Marco muttered, as he and Othil stared at the Andalite. Now this is freaking me out. Could you two please stop it?
Aximili's main eyes turned towards the gorilla. He suddenly smiled. Anything the matter, Marco?
Who said that? Marco demanded. You or Issetha? Or would it be; you or Ax? I mean… I don't know what I mean. Two on one voice is wrong.
Aximili stood for a moment, blinking only once; then he shrugged and lifted the plate to gobble down any crumbs.
Continue, Marco told Othil.
"What?"
Large, metal door that doesn't lead into the building. Where does it lead?
"It leads down under the ground… there's a stairway, wider than you'd ever think at seeing the door. It goes down to what appears to be an underground storage, but if you feel the far wall, near the left corner, you'll locate a hole in the wall. There's a switch in there which will open the wall and let you down into a tunnel leading to the facility where they keep your friends. But first you'll have to pass a lock… a so-called voluntary lock. Issetha'll know what I mean. From the room past that, you'll come out into a washing room… from behind a mirror. You'll have to smash the mirror, I'm afraid."
"How do we open the door to begin with?" Aximili asked, looking up from the plate which was now dreadfully out of crumbs.
"By pressing on the small metal bolt down by the ground. It's the one with a crack on it."
Or by a rhino morph, Marco suggested. But we don't have one for the moment.
"I heard about the captures," Othil said, shaking his head. "This is a dark day for anyone of the Resistance."
I think we'll try to have a say about that yet, Marco muttered. Ax? We still have a deadline. Are you done?
Aximili sadly displayed the empty plate and with a sigh began demorphing.
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Author's Note;
Adapted beginning of chapter one. The old beginning was horrible, I know, and I'd appreciate if you read the new one and commented it. You can't miss it; it's the part in bold.
Moreover, as it turns out, the second picture mentioned in the last note seems to have moved to chapter eleven; that is, the one where Ax is sitting by that pool. Any guesses on what AIF is?
And an answer to Jicklet's question about Ax contacting the home world; well, honestly, that part has been troubling. This is set between #50 and #52 (since we've got the auxiliaries and the pool), and it's going to keep going on up to #54. That means that Ax's contact with the home world is during this story. I'm just not including it. (I'm lazy, what can I say?) My personal guess would be he's doing it out of guilt. He's betraying his people, maybe he wants to do something for them. Maybe Issetha can relate to it and doesn't mind. Maybe he's realising that if he and the Animorphs win, and survive, he'd have to go home… with Issetha, due to reasons that should be clear at least further on.
And for obvious reasons, going home to the Andalite Home World carrying a Yeerk is not a thought that appeals to him, or anyone else.