Aximili's Headache – chapter 21
Do not leave me now,
do not leave me now,
I'm broken down
from a recent fall.
Blood upon my body
and ice upon my soul.
From Leonard Cohen's "The Butcher"
They had time on their side.
That was the only thought in Aximili's mind. The guards had been changed eight times. His inner clock told him that he had been held in that exact same cell, for nearly a day. At first he had simply stood still, closely guarded but unbothered by the guards. Then a warrior had come in to deliver a message, just before the first time the guards had been changed, and for hours they made him run, at a quick trot. Round and round, through the cell, until he staggered to his knees, at which he would be kicked and dragged back up to his hooves, and the procedure would begin again. He was allowed no sleep, no rest. No food, no water, and if he as much as faltered and swayed the guards would forcibly set him moving again.
They had time on their side, and how he hated them for it.
His body was exhausted.
Thanks to Issetha, his mind could rest. She could keep his body moving while he slept.
Moving, but not much more. By the time Caysath appeared at the end of that first day, Issetha's host was so exhausted that he was seeing double – when he saw at all.
Caysath regarded him coolly, waving a hand back and forth past his face, noting how the Controller's eyes could barely follow the movement. Give him water, he decided. He would be no use dead.
Issetha watched Caysath just as carefully as Caysath was watching her host. He had the expression of one studying an animal at a zoo, and the Yeerk did not trust him half as far as the width of a hair.
How aware is he? he asked finally, in open thought-speech.
Almost conscious, War Prince, offered one of the warrior in a snicker.
Would he notice a slightly different taste in the water?
He would be too thirsty to care, War Prince, reasoned the warrior.
Excellent.
Issetha was at once alert. They steadied her host, almost kindly, as they placed a pail of water before him, lifting his hoof and lowering it into the water. She twitched the hoof back and drew away, but there was nothing unusual with the water on the pad of the hoof, and her host – now woken – was thirsty.
They lowered the hoof into water again, and Aximili drank thankfully, though Issetha remained doubtful. Still, there was no trace of anything unusual in the water.
Can you hear me in there, traitor? asked Caysath when the pail of water had been emptied and removed.
Aximili forced his eyes to focus on the War Prince, and Caysath took that as a reply.
Good. Now listen to me. You're tired. You're weak. Wouldn't you like to sleep?
You won't… let me sleep, Aximili replied in a whisper. Correction: Aximili thought it, and Issetha spoke it. You won't… let us sleep.
Caysath's tail twitched with anger at the plural, realising that it meant both the Andalite and the Yeerk. He quickly overcame it, though, his face shifting to a small, cruel smile. Marvellous. You understand the situation perfectly. Do you understand why?
To put… us off… balance.
It was clear from the repeated jolt in his tail that the plural made the War Prince angry, but he did his best to ignore it. Your teachers must have been proud of you. I wonder if they would be proud if they saw you now?
Aximili did not bother to even think a reply. He swayed suddenly forwards, caught by both Issetha's grasp of control and two warriors, while Caysath took a disgusted step out of the way.
Personally, I've always believed in making deals, the War Prince mused. For you see, we can make quite a deal here. You want to sleep. You probably want more water… perhaps some food. In exchange, all I want… is to see that Yeerk out of your head.
Aximili awoke with a start and the ferocity in his expression made Caysath take another step back. Never! snarled the younger Andalite, and for a moment there was no sign of exhaustion in either his face or posture.
That's not what I wanted to hear, Caysath told him coldly.
The flat of two tail-blades struck Aximili's front knees from either side, and he crumbled to the floor.
Tell the Yeerk to leave you, suggested Caysath, staring down at him, using his own tail-blade to angle Aximili's head back and up to look at him.
No.
Wrong again.
A heavy back hoof kick landed straight in Aximili's stomach, sending the air out of his lungs. He began struggling to rise, and was rewarded by two more kicks, leaving him on his side and panting.
Do try to cooperate, traitor, Caysath suggested. Things will be so much simpler if you do. Give us the Yeerk.
Not a chance.
A slow learner, are you?
A tail-blade cut into Aximili's side, and only Issetha made him hold back a cry.
Perhaps your teachers were not so proud of you, after all. Give us the Yeerk.
Aximili closed his eyes and refused to listen to them, trying to close them out.
LISTEN TO ME! thundered the War Prince, and now his own back front hoof kicked at the Controller. Give us the Yeerk.
When not answering earned Aximili another kick, he suddenly began laughing. The warriors stared at him: Caysath withdrew a step, watching him, his expression cold as ice while he waited for the laughter to die out. Get him on his hooves.
Two warriors dragged Aximili up to stand, and held him securely between them.
We have one more thing to offer you, Caysath told him, waiting until Aximili was looking at him.
What is it?
You hand over the Yeerk, and we won't hurt you.
You let us be, and you won't have to strain your fetlocks kicking. You might be limping for weeks.
We have tails, Caysath grinned. Someone demonstrate the use of a tail.
Someone did. Aximili almost cried out again – Issetha took over his thought-speech voice and hushed soothingly at him.
Now, Caysath said, this will go on until you give us the Yeerk.
Never.
Never in a foreseeable future, you mean? Let me tell you, traitor, that that foreseeable future is a very narrow perspective. The unforeseen is a thousand times more common. And we have time on our side.
They had time on their side.
Aximili did not know how many times he listened to Caysath's repeated demand of Give us the Yeerk. He did not know how many strikes he suffered, both from tails and hooves, and he lost count of how many times he staggered, fell, and was dragged up to stand again. Exhaustion and pain sent him into a daze, and if not for Issetha he would soon have cried for each blow.
Issetha, who knew her host's rapidly deteriorating condition better than he did himself, was growing frantic. The haze that surrounded his mind reminded her all too vividly of the time he had almost slipped away from her, almost died. She did not want him to slip away, did not want him to die. The only solution she could hear was Caysath's calmly stated demand; Give us the Yeerk.
Aximili barely heard it. Issetha did. Finally…
Aximili… But he did not even react to her voice. She shook his mind, trying to catch his attention, and whimpered at how long it took him to focus enough to know she was there. Aximili, this is madness!
There was little reaction aside from a slight, questioning stir in the deeper corners of his head. He let out a mental cry as another hoof slammed into him, surely breaking a rib.
I'm leaving, Issetha blurted, I can't stand –
No! her host breath breathed, suddenly aware. No, don't… abandon me. Stay with me.
Aximili, they'll beat you to death, and then I'll be dead anyway, I can't –
Issetha, please don't leave me, her Andalite host begged. Don't – His private voice was broken by a roar of pain that, still, only he and Issetha heard.
Issetha shivered, noticing again the damage the beating was causing, and began withdrawing from the crevices of her host's brain.
Don't leave me, he begged, mind blackening. Don't… leave me. Don't…
She quickly resettled, trying to hold on to him before he faded completely, but then realised that he was not dying; he was only passing out. Hush, she whispered soothingly.
He drifted into unconsciousness, and Issetha let his battered body come to rest more comfortably on the floor.
Typical, drawled Caysath's open thought-speech voice. Ah, well. Send for me when he wakes up.
Aximili woke from the oblivion to find his body under Issetha's control, and she convinced him to pretend to be still unconscious, and take the opportunity to sleep. He gladly complied.
He woke feeling much better; amazing what a bit of rest could do. His head was clearer than it had been for the past day. His condition was further improved when they offered him water – while they sent for Caysath. He was unable to locate any part of himself that was not aching, but his mind was aware enough to continue formulating the plan he had started before exhaustion had taken its toll. There was little time to even out the edges of his idea, but it would have to do.
He had been in better situations, seen more favourable odds. Four against one; and he was unarmed, while they wielded shredders. He was shackled, while their tails and hands were free.
But Aximili had a few, ever so slight advantages, and every intention of using them.
For, first and foremost, he had nothing to lose.
Time to play the wild card, leefachir, whispered the Yeerk.
Aximili agreed, setting his desperate plan into motion. He focused hard on his hands, helped by Issetha, and slowly morphed them towards the smaller, more nimble hands of a raccoon. He only needed to morph them partly, and then he could free them from the shackles. He let them return to Andalite.
Careful, cautioned Issetha as he began the second morph.
They're not watching, said Aximili, glancing around, realising it was true, and silently congratulating his success. They never saw this coming.
His hands were hidden behind his back. He had moved through the room, so that his back was against the wall and none of the guards would see the changes in his hands – or that he had freed them from their restraints. In another few moments, Aximili slowed and ended the second morphing process, with only his hands morphed.
Very neatly done, the Yeerk commented.
Could not have done it without your help, Issetha, said Aximili.
I know. And now… we wait, was the muttered reply.
They did not have to wait long until Caysath reappeared.
He came through the door, tail up and ready and eyes locking on Aximili as soon as he set hoof in the room.
Predictably, one of the guards readied and aimed his shredder and moved closer to the prisoner.
Aximili swept his now-Hork-Bajir lower arm out, the wrist blade nicking the Andalite's head and stunning him – if not knocking him out.
There was the instant sound of shredders being fired. Aximili was not sure – but he knew that the knocked Andalite, who was falling to the floor, jerked violently twice before he finally landed, as if he had been shot in the side.
Aximili did not stay to find out what exactly had happened. He had used the falling Andalite as a shield – now he burst from cover and came up towards Caysath.
Caysath's tail flashed – Aximili blocked it with the shackles still secured to his own tail-blade. In a moment of pure, dumb luck the chains that had held his hands wrapped around Caysath's tail and Aximili could pull it down, out of his way.
His Hork-Bajir arms helped him force the War Prince out of the room. He took a shredder to his left back leg, but then closed the door behind him, leaving the three remaining guards to fire at a locked steel door.
Served them right.
Aximili had already taken Caysath's shredder and was ready to battle a force he had been convinced would be waiting outside the room, but there was no-one there.
Now, before it's too late, whispered a voice in the back of his head.
Yes, agreed Aximili. He hesitated for a moment, struggling to add something more, but finally settled for; Be careful, Issetha.
Of course.
Aximili was torn back to reality by the sound of Caysath's bitter laughter. What could you possibly hope to accomplish with this, traitor? Use me to bargain with? Apex Level does not bargain. No-one is more important than the mission. Prince Riminar would simply decide that I was expendable.
I plan to even out the odds, Aximili told him calmly, taking a better hold of Caysath's head and making sure his tail was still trapped.
How?
By evening out the numbers.
It took the War Prince no more than a moment to grasp that. Another, as disgust passed over his face. A third, to begin struggling… but, as Aximili himself had found out three years earlier, Hork-Bajir hands are too strong for a mere Andalite to easily break free from. Aximili simply tapped him on the temple to stun him. Then he lowered his ear to Caysath's.
He felt Issetha leave his ear and held the other Andalite still until he was certain the Yeerk was in complete control.
Normally, he said to Caysath, I would never allow the involuntary infestation of anyone. But this, War Prince, is a special occasion.
And a special Yeerk, added Issetha with Caysath's voice. Not to mention… a War Prince who deserves it.
Everything okay? Aximili asked privately, to just Issetha.
She made a thumb-up with Caysath's hand and Aximili grinned, knowing that the older Andalite could not understand the gesture.
Let us confuse him, Issetha, said Aximili lowly, still privately. He was morphing to Hork-Bajir and back to rid himself of the aches and wounds from the previous day. Let us keep him confused.
Whatever you say, leefachir, replied Issetha.
She noted with some satisfaction that at that last word, Caysath – who until then had been a silent prisoner – jerked back in alarm with a sharp mental hiss.
We need to find an exit, Issetha reminded Aximili.
He nodded, and spoke privately to the Yeerk: We will. Stay close. He gestured for her to run beside him and they started down the corridor, the same way they had come the day before.
See what you can find about their plan, Issetha, Aximili bade, glancing beyond a corner, seeing it was safe, and signalling for her to follow as he galloped on.
Issetha ran after, beginning to dig in silent Caysath's thoughts at the same time. He tried to keep her out, and failed. His bitter fury was, however, somewhat distracting.
She found the plan, saw it unfold before her, detail by detail. The planting of the polar bear hairs, the firing at the Intrepid, the hologram posing as the Blade ship… and what had yet not happened: turning Aximili over to the Yeerks…
But, War Prince Tansol, said Caysath's voice in his own memory, of course we can give the traitor to the Yeerks, but what of his mind? His memories of Andalite technology, Andalite defence systems, and of this… this fractured, weakened Fleet which is all we have today.
They cannot be allowed to know any of that, agreed Tansol, whom Issetha found to be an older, high-ranking veteran of Apex Level. You have an idea, War Prince Caysath?
Certainly, War Prince. We wipe his mind – erase his memories. We erase everything… we reduce him to a simpleton, a fool. Such an Andalite the Yeerks can have without risk.
The methods used for mind wiping are ineffective on Controllers. The results are unpredictable.
Then we remove the Yeerk.
You might not have three days.
It can be arranged. And if not… why not simply poison him, prior to the exchange? Poison him so that he will be perfectly healthy when the Yeerks receive him, and delirious by the next day, dead before the next evening?
Issetha withdrew from the memories, not wanting to see anything more. She was unsure whether anger or fear was strongest. They were planning to kill him – she had known that, of course, but reading it from Caysath's mind made it real. The situation materialised and now she would be forced to try to deal with it.
Suddenly, the conversation she had overheard before about water in the pail made terrifying sense.
Still, she reminded herself, neither she nor Aximili had detected anything unusual in that water. Perhaps they had been speaking of a different pail. Yes – a different pail. And Issetha clung to that hope so strongly that she did not even look in Caysath's mind for confirmation.
She made her fuming host follow Aximili through the ship. Caysath's own knowledge of the labyrinth was of little help: he had always kept to the main corridors, the main shafts, and they had left those far behind for fear of discovery.
Following Aximili – who was just as lost as she was herself – Issetha could not help but drift back into her new host's memories.
What of those humans? Caysath remembered himself asking.
What humans – the Animorphs?
Yes. They must have known about this. I doubt he could have kept it secret from them. People in small guerrilla bands usually grow very close. And he has shown signs of an unhealthy sentimental attachment to those specific humans.
I suppose he has, Tansol admitted. The old War Prince sighed. That turns the entire group into suspects.
Do we want Controllers on Earth?
Certainly not. But even accusing the Animorphs of associating with Yeerks would harm relations with humanity, perhaps beyond repair. They are so defensive of what they consider their own, or their friends. If we are to do anything about the Prince's human associates, we need to lure them off Earth.
It can be arranged, Caysath said, for the second time, smiling a cold smile.
As the War Prince had been quiet beneath Issetha's control, she had to lay bonds on herself to avoid flinching when he suddenly laughed. She was jerked out of his memories – which she did not really mind – and tried to ignore him. That was harder than it might have seemed – especially when he spoke.
I understand now, he muttered. He's not as dumb as he seems. See, Yeerk, how he keeps that shredder close at hand. He plans to be rid of us. Both of us, at the same time. Clever.
Not a chance.
Why not? It is the perfect plan.
Aximili would never hurt me, Issetha said with unwavering conviction. In fact, as long as I'm in here, you're safe, too. He won't let anything happen to you while I might be at risk, too. More quietly, perhaps more to herself than to her host; He'd give his life for me, if he had to.
Caysath was fuming with rage, and presently switched tactics. Issetha noted that his mind was not as in control and steady as it appeared from the outside world. What a waste. How can you think so? He's Andalite. You are a filthy Yeerk. There must be some pride left in him. No Andalite would ever even consider giving his life for a –
This one already has. And not regretted it for a moment.
You truly believe that? sneered the War Prince.
Yes.
Caysath laughed again. Issetha was very unsettled to note how very real that laughter was.
Ever had a true friend? she asked, but after a quick look through his memories she realised he had not. Caysath was Caysath's only true friend. But she continued; A shorm. Someone whose tail-blade you'd allow at your throat without even worrying, for you'd know they would never cut, never harm you. For Aximili and I, that goes deeper. If I put my blade at his throat he wouldn't move, wouldn't shield himself. He knows I won't cut. He knows – but there is worry, too. Worry that I might want to cut… still, that would be okay. If that's what I want, then fine, I shall have it.
Why? questioned the Andalite, unintentionally.
It's taken a long time for Aximili to understand, said Issetha. You… you're a hopeless case. You wouldn't understand it if it came and hit you in the face.
Some things, growled Caysath, make you weak. It is better not to know of them, or understand them. I prefer to remain at my strongest.
If there was no weakness, there would be no weakness to protect, and thus no need for strength. So in conclusion, you've just deemed yourself useless, Caysath.
Run, came the sudden command from Aximili, to only Issetha. Her stalks twirled around to look behind her, and at once found the cause of Aximili's worry; Prince Sariyon and a small band of warriors were pursuing them at a gallop.
Issetha noted that they were armed with shredders, but did not fire. They must be afraid to hit something valuable, she realised, and wondered if that valuable thing was the ship, Aximili, or Caysath. Judging from the structure of Apex Level's Executive Branch, it was not Caysath. Judging from the state of the ship, it was not the ship, either.
Issetha powered her unwilling host forwards in a run, staying close at Aximili's heel. When he gestured towards a side corridor, she spun around and ran into it, but skidded to a halt when she realised that Aximili was not beside her.
He had stopped at the turn, aiming beyond it with his shredder.
Aximili, come, she urged, taking the three leaps back to his side.
Aximili's stalks spun about to look at her, while he aimed and fired again. There was no return fire.
Better to run, she said. They're too many.
Issetha, I can –
You can shoot them, and more will come, and while you kill five there will be ten who hear of where we are and will replace those five. Come.
Aximili relented. But as they turned into the side corridor again, they noted more pursuers appearing from that direction.
This way, Aximili ordered, leaping out into the corridor they had come from and speeding off down it.
As Issetha followed, she was at some distance from him, and almost at once she felt the burn of a shredder on Caysath's body. Fortunately, there was enough adrenaline in him to keep him running, but the second shot hit his shoulder and the pain sent him to his knees. At once a third shot hit one of her host's back legs.
Aximili dragged her up – or tried to – and with his help they managed into another side corridor.
He can't run, Issetha told Aximili matter-of-factly. Not fast enough.
Aximili looked almost relieved. He made a gesture towards his own head, and Issetha nodded. First, she placed Caysath's tail below his body, to make it more difficult to use. Then she waited while Aximili fired a shot on one of the War Prince's front knees, making it even more difficult for him to stand and follow them later.
Issetha crawled out of his ear, into Aximili's waiting hands, and by the time Caysath had control back, and had freed his tail to swipe with, Aximili had backed out of the way, with the Yeerk held protectively towards him. He raised his shredder and aimed at the War Prince's head.
I should kill you, he said lowly.
Go ahead, Caysath offered, spreading his arms in complete indifference, with his gaze unfocused and pain clear in his eyes before he closed them and slumped to the floor with his arms wrapped around himself.
Aximili, disgusted with that lack of concern, lowered the shredder and let the other live. He held Issetha to his ear and greeted her with a quick hello before returning his attention to the world around him. The sound of many hooves was coming quickly towards them, and would reach them in mere seconds.
You can't win, breathed Caysath, forcing his eyes to keep open, wise enough to realise that he would fail if he tried to rise.
Aximili honoured him with little more than a quick glance before turning away. No. But we can die trying.
As he galloped away, Issetha shivered in the back of his head.
It will be okay, he told her lowly.
How? she wondered, and the Andalite could not answer. He simple sped up, forgetting that he was supposed to turn into another corridor to make pursuit more difficult, and almost falling as he tried to correct the error and his hooves skidded wildly over the steel floor. As he swept his stalks and main eyes around to look into the new corridor he saw something he had definitely not expected.
A raised and aimed shredder, and behind it the determined face of Prince Sariyon.
Aximili dropped towards the floor as the shot came towards him. But it had been aimed at his belly, and now struck the side of his head, stunning him.
At once Andalites surrounded him on all sides. Caysath, morphing some creature that Aximili could not exactly recognize, was also surrounded, with Riminar's blade at his throat and his own held down under a hoof.
Cut his tail, said Sariyon suddenly.
Aximili was still too dazed to move, although he understood those words all too well. He could make himself twitch, but that was all. A blade bore down to his tail, severing it not far from his back, and he cried out in pain and sorrow, struggling wildly to break free from the inevitable – from the grip of what already had occurred.
Sariyon leaned ominously over him, seizing one of his stalks to yank his head up and be able to see his face. Answer me, traitor, he said, almost kindly. Which of you carries the Yeerk now?
Aximili was silent, stubbornly silent, trying to press the pain from his tail out of his mind, trying to drown in Issetha's tender, comforting thoughts, for it was the only stable thing he had to hold on to. He felt like he had been thrown into a well with cement sides, and all he could do was weep and claw at the walls with bleeding fingertips.
He will not answer, Caysath revealed in a growl. He will protect the Yeerk if he can, the foolish creature. You had best kill me and carry on as planned. That way, he cannot win. He must not win.
Sariyon and Riminar both frowned. The first seemed to look to the second for guidance, himself unsure of what to do.
Finally, Riminar removed his tail-blade from Caysath's throat and lowered a hand to help him up to his hooves. No cowardly Yeerk would say that. Welcome back, War Prince.
Caysath almost smiled. Almost. His face was not made for proper, not-cruel smiles. So easily, Prince Riminar?
One of the warriors just reported having seen the Yeerk reenter the traitor, Riminar explained, and smiled dryly. But if it makes you feel better, War Prince, we can knock you out and keep you unconscious for three days. Or kill you.
Caysath flicked his tail. Do as you find best.
You are free to command us, War Prince, Riminar decided with a ceremonial bow.
Thank you, Prince Riminar; that I shall, Caysath replied. He turned slowly, menacingly, towards Aximili, and when he spoke his voice burned like ice: Now then. Where were we?
War Prince, said Riminar, unless the traitor can be expected to cooperate, there will be no time to remove the Yeerk. It will take to long – we must proceed with the exchange despite the Yeerk.
Caysath fixated his prisoner with his cold green eyes for several moments, a battle between duty and yearn for revenge being fought visibly on his face. Finally, with a flick of his tail, duty won. He turned to leave. To the bridge. There is still work to be done. And a last meal to be delivered. This time, keep your eyes on that prisoner!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
*carefully looks left and right before posting chapter*
*posts chapter and sighs in relief*
*is suddenly attacked by people crying "Three months, ey? THREE MONTHS!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? Bad writer! BAD BAD WRITER! EVIL!"*
*flees*