Fear
Chapter Six
Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.
Daydreaming. It felt like daydreaming. Or, maybe, not quite daydreaming but that state halfway between daydreams and being fully awake. Where you still see and hear everything, but somehow it doesn't matter, so it never sticks with you. Everything is calm and peaceful and nothing matters.
Nasha was constantly on the go for a few months after she came to me, but I drifted away into my daydream state. I was a puppet, so completely controlled that half the time I had no idea what was going on. Nasha didn't talk to me, and I didn't talk to Nasha. I didn't talk to anyone. Because I wasn't there.
My 17th birthday came and went. No one noticed it. My family might have cared, but there was nothing they could have done for it. My friends were all hosts, or too scared of the changes in me to point it out. I got a card from my dentist, another from the insurance, and a few from grandparents. All of them went into the trash without being opened, even though I was sure the grandparent ones had money in them. More than all the rest, though, the thing that scared me most was that I didn't care. I spent my birthday curled up in a corner of my mind while my body filled out reports on a computer. And I didn't care.
As far as I could tell, I'd stopped caring about anything. My days were bleak, with no one to talk to. Even in the cages, I was alone. The few friends I'd managed to make left me alone, too depressed by their own problems to try to talk to me. I was sitting in the corner, the week after summer started, staring off into space when a small hand suddenly slipped under mine and squeezed my knee.
I squealed and jumped, brought out of my trance by a purely physical reaction. Samantha, who knew how ticklish I was, smiled weakly at me. I spent a few moments trying to focus on her face; it had been a while since I'd had to interact with someone.
"Sam?"
"Hi."
'Hi.' Such a simple phrase. But Samantha looked strait into my face and said it with such clarity and directness that my heart skipped a beat. I looked around to be sure we were still in the cages; that this was really my little sister and not some alien look-alike. We were still in the cages, and this was Samantha and no one else. But she was five. No six, now. She never said anything so directly. She hardly ever spoke in complete sentences.
"What are you doing here?"
Samantha shrugged. "What I always do here. Chikra came a day early, cause we have a field trip in school on Friday."
Chikra. Field trip. My brain worked furiously, trying to identify these things. It was like trying to run in quicksand.
"Huh?"
"Didn't you hear us tell Camtol? We're going to the zoo."
Something finally clicked into place, but it wasn't the field trip. Chikra. Chikranish, her new Yeerk. The zoo thing was completely new to me, but I wasn't about to tell her that.
"Oh, right. I just... forgot."
Samantha sat on the floor and stared at me. We hadn't run out of things to say to each other so quickly, but we settled into an uneasy silence anyways. I wanted to ask her all kinds of things. I wanted to know how she was and what she'd been doing. But I knew the answers to such thoughtless questions. They were the same for every host. Still, I wanted to hear her talk. She spoke so rarely, and it was a treat to hear her, but it scared me. She sounded so mature. Like she'd grown up over night.
She had grown up overnight. My little sister was gone. The little sister who painted my nails and taught me cat's cradle even though I was never any good at it. The little sister who let me braid her hair and never told if I yelled at her. In her place was this other girl who'd seen too much, too fast. Who would carry the scars from this into her grave. Who knew that her grave might come much sooner than anyone expected. Who I still loved. Who my heart ached for, as it hadn't in ages. I felt as if I was being pulled in six different directions at once, and the only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to hug Samantha and weep, and that I couldn't do it.
"I haven't seen you in a while," I finally managed to say. "Are you... are you all right?"
Samantha shrugged. "I guess so. Chikra's okay, I guess. She doesn't yell at me. That's good."
That she thought not being yelled at was a good thing nearly broke my heart.
I stared at the floor and tried to figure out what to say. I had idea how long it would be until I saw her again. I wanted to say something important and meaningful, but all I think about was how much she'd changed since I'd last seen her.
A small hand snaked into my view again, but this time she didn't try to tickle me. She simply held my hand.
"What are you thinking about?"
I tried to smile for her. "Just... about how grown up you are. It's a lot different from the last time we talked."
"Oh."
I couldn't tell what she thought of that. She didn't seem proud of being called mature, like so many other small children. But then, why should she? Why would anyone be proud of going through hell and then showing the signs of it?
Tact seemed out of the question now. Who could stay polite and thoughtful in times like these? So I asked the question I wanted most to hear the answer to.
"How...um...how are you holding up?"
Her face brightened instantly and she smiled the most beautiful smile I'd seen in weeks. "I'm doing just like you said. Stay quiet and wait, but don't let them beat me." She squeezed my hand and looked at me with anxious questioning. "You are, too, right?"
She looked up to me. She'd heard what I said and looked to me for strength. I was a role model to her. My stomach sank and twisted with shame. I could feel my heart beat faster and painfully. What reason did she have to look up to me now? I'd failed. Given in. How could I possibly stand to face her now that I'd broken her trust in me? She had no reason to look up to me. I was a failure and the task was impossible.
I was about to tell her as much, but I couldn't quite get the words out. Hope stopped me. I thought I was all out of hope, but some tiny little bit remained. I didn't want to crush the beautiful smile that was already wavering in front of me.
"Connie?"
I swallowed hard, feeling like I was choking on my words. Impossible, since words aren't tangible, but something closed my throat, making it difficult to breath. I smiled weakly at her and patted her hand with my free one.
"Yeah. Yeah, me too."
It was a lie, but how could a lie that made her smile like that ever be a bad thing? I think I might have started crying, but no one really noticed.
------------
I was still a bit disorganized when Nasha rejoined me. Talking to my sister had made me think, something I didn't do often anymore. She also made me feel, which I'd started to avoid. The result was more than a bit unsettling. Like I was trying to do something, but couldn't quite muster up the strength. Maybe that's why I did it.
Welcome back.
Nasha didn't answer me immediately, but I could feel her pause and consider me. I assumed she wouldn't answer at all and started to sink into oblivion, welcoming the blankness. It was so much easier than fighting. We walked on toward the exit.
Why did... Nasha trailed off, apparently trying to find the right words. You're different today.
Suddenly, fighting back didn't seem like such a bad idea. I may have hated Nasha, but to have someone pay attention to me, to treat me like a she instead of an it, was a wonderful thing. If I were back in the cages, it would have been a wonderful feeling, but of course Nasha prevented the usual onrush of pride and satisfaction. The feeling that made you feel ten times too big for your skin and like you can do anything. I couldn't have the feeling, but Nasha acknowledging me made me think, just maybe, I can fight back and make the fighting worth it.
I met my sister in there. It was a rather enlightening experience.
Nasha didn't say anything to that, but she didn't need to. The one little slip was enough.
------------
Fighting back was not easy, especially after having given up once.
The first day was easy, especially after Nasha's comment. My thoughts were filled with a kind of fierce determination and mostly centered around five words. I felt like a sleepwalker might after waking up in a strange place. I had no idea what Nasha and the others talked about, but I listened, and tried to make sense of it, and even succeeded for the most part. But they were boring, talking of ordinary stuff that made the inner-workings of an invading alien organization seem rather...mundane. Nasha continued to ignore me, but went to bed early, telling the others that she had a headache.
After that, things got a bit more difficult. Nasha continued to ignore me and even stopped invading my thoughts constantly. I could think privately again, but it didn't seem to matter. I found it harder and harder to see the point in fighting. So I stopped. I slipped back into my almost-asleep state as if it were natural. Occasionally I would find the strength to wake up and pay attention for a few hours. I knew better than to talk to Nasha again, as it would only discourage me.
But Samantha. Samantha was my saving grace. Whenever Nasha turned our gaze on my little sister, everything suddenly fell into place. Nothing was difficult and fighting back was the only natural thing in the world. I had to be strong for her, so she could be proud of me and have some one to look up to. I was her strength and she was mine. It was a strange relationship, and I thought more than once that I was using her, but it worked. And as long as the arrangement worked I decided not to mess with it. Besides, it was just thoughts. I wasn't hurting anyone.
------------
One day, just after school let out, Nasha was looking up stuff on my computer while I sat in the back of my mind, happily thinking of nothing. The only time I happily did anything was when I stopped fighting, so I was more than content to let Nasha do her own thing.
And then Nasha nudged me. Didn't quite speak, but felt like she was about to and simply changed her mind. Whatever you call it, it was enough to wake me up. I quickly scanned the report on the screen before she closed it. I couldn't read it fast enough, but one word jumped out at me. Arnashik
Go back, I told her. I hadn't caught the number, but her reaction told me that it was about Arnie.
It's nothing. Wrong Arnashik.
I didn't stop to wonder why she was suddenly talking to me. All I cared about was finding out about Arnie.
Go back.
She ignored me and opened a different file.
Go back, I repeated, hardly aware of the note of desperation that crept into my thoughts. Please?
She thought about it. I could sense it on her mind. She only let her guard down that much when she was extremely tired. But I didn't wonder about that either. I was completely focused on finding out about Arnie.
Nasha continued to read the new file, but I could tell she wasn't really paying attention to it. However, I was waiting with baited breath. My mind was wide awake, ready for any slight clue I might find.
Oh fine, she finally sighed and went back to the previous file.
Arnie was under investigation for treasonous actions.
Arnie A traitor? Why would they think that?
She scrolled down and kept reading. Apparently, he'd been accused of giving aid and support to the enemy, and having and indecent relationship with a host.
This is bull. Arnie wouldn't do that.
No, it's the standard charge when a Yeerk gets too close to his host.
I didn't stop to think about why she was talking to me. The report outraged me. How... But... That's bull! That's like the North Koreans killing people for unpatriotic thoughts! How can they be so stupid?
Nasha ignored me and moved on to another report. I paid attention for a while, but the next one was just about better ways to re-supply the Pool.
So I retreated back into my corner for a while, not paying attention, but not going catatonic again, either. Arnie? A traitor? Sure, he was nice, as far as parasitic aliens go, but he was loyal to his species. And he would no more give aid to the Andalites than I would to Nasha. Hate for the Andalites seemed to be an in-bred quality of all Yeerks. After hearing a few stories about their arrogance, I didn't really like them either.
'Indecent relationship with a host.' The phrase hit me like a lead brick. They meant me. Arnie had been almost normal with his three hosts before me, but we'd been friends almost. I even admitted to loving him, in a platonic kind of way.
My mind had trouble dealing with these facts. I was a bit confused for a while, but fortunately didn't have to deal with all the physical side effects of shock or anger. In my own body, I probably would have spent hours denying it, and even after that wouldn't have completely accepted the fact that the Yeerks could be so stupid. But it finally did sink in, and I was able to look at things more clearly than I otherwise would have.
Arnie was on trial. However stupid the charges were, they would still have to be proven. This meant that witnesses would have to be called. I would have to go and give testimony against him. Or rather, Nasha would go and give my testimony for me, since I would never say anything against Arnie.
I didn't have to ask why protecting Arnie was so important to me. And since I didn't have to ask, I didn't have to answer.
------------
Sure enough, a few days later we were called to the trial. The Yeerk trial resembled the ones I was used to. Everyone gathered in an official looking room with the 'judge' at the front, sitting behind a desk. But rather than sit in rows of seats, everyone stood in a circle with Arnie, now a gaunt looking man is his 20's, in the middle. Whenever someone wished to speak, he or she would move the middle beside Arnie, say their piece, then move back to the circle.
Nasha and I stood against the side wall with the others who were to give witness. All two of them.
There was no preamble, no opening remarks, and no reading of the charges. The sub-visser simply called up the first man and told him to speak, which he did.
The Yeerk's name was Palashin 9856 and his host was Terry Prenner, a middle aged banker who I vaguely recognized. He handled loans in the same bank where Mom had an account. Immediately after receiving his promotion, Arnie had gone to Prenner and inadvertently shown him our friendship during the initial Controlling. After a few weeks, Arnie had been promoted again, and Prenner became Palashin's host. Palashin found out about the friendship and decided to gain a bit of favor by turning Arnie in. The whole affair was quite simple and reminded me forcibly of the North Korea allusion I'd made earlier.
After telling his damning story, Palashin returned to the circle. Nasha and I calmly waited as three 'lawyers' debated Palashin's testimony, dismissing parts of it. Nasha was calm for reasons I couldn't fathom and I was calm because I had no choice. No butterflies, no sweating, and no vain hopes. Just a calm, clear view of the future. And I hated it.
Finally, Nasha was called forward.
"Have you heard, and do you understand the testimony thus far?"
"Yes."
"You have personal experience with the host in question. Are these claims true?"
"No, visser."
Shocked silence filled the room. To their credit, no one in the room gasped or argued or even looked shocked. They just very quietly tried to process what Nasha had said.
I hoped they were doing better at it than I was, because my mind had gone completely blank. All I managed was to think, Huh
"Explain," the sub-visser commanded.
"This host tends to refer to the defendant as 'fairly decent for a parasite,' but I have seen no indication of a friendship to the magnitude indicated. Or even of any friendship at all."
"Have you looked?"
Nasha gave him a carefully indignant look. I was still trying to make my brain work.
"I have. I explored the history of this host extensively upon first Controlling her."
The sub-visser frowned slightly, but didn't pursue the question.
"You do realize you are implying that Palashin 9856 has lied to a sub-visser?"
Nasha shrugged. "I am merely telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. And every reason not to."
The sub-visser nodded thoughtfully and motioned for her to move back her place.
I was still in the middle of that strange, bodiless shock as we moved out of the middle of the circle. The kind that comes from simply having a mental overload. The kind I was becoming all too familiar with.
You... you lied to them.
Yes, I did.
Why?
For a moment I didn't think she'd answer, but she did. Because I like you. And I kinda like him, too. And I think you guys are a cute couple.
That simply wouldn't compute with me, so I didn't bother and went back to watching the trial. The Yeerks weren't completely stupid. A defendant could be proven innocent, and Arnie finally was declared free of all charges. Palashin, on the other hand, was in deep trouble. The fact that he was innocent and we were not hardly bother my sense of justice at all.
Arnie nodded to me, or rather to Nasha, before leaving the room. That was it. Just a blank faced nod and he was gone. For some reason, his lack of reaction bothered me more that Nasha's rather extreme statement.
------------
Two days later, Nasha hesitated at the end of the pier. She'd been promoted and would receive her new host at the end of the day. I was being passed along to someone new. Again.
What are you doing? I asked as Nasha spent longer than usual at the pier.
Look, I'm kinda sorry about how I treated you, but you're a sweet girl and...and well... just... Good luck. And I meant what I said at the trial.
Huh?
Bye.
Nasha had never said so much to me at one time. Before I had a chance to try and get a better answer from her, she was gone.
Instead of going to the cages I was lead to another line, this one of hosts waiting for their Yeerks. I would get no rest this week.
But rest was what I needed most. I needed a chance to deal with the overload of feelings I was suddenly getting. My head nearly swam with thoughts. I barley noticed anything around me as I tried to make sense of everything I'd seen in the past two days, but now it was harder than ever.
Nasha liked me? Arnie, sure. That was okay. But me? That didn't really cause any feeling but confusion.
And Arnie. Arnie was free, in a sense, which made me inexplicably happy. But he was also in danger of being accused again, something which he would never be able to talk his way out of. The mere thought made me turn with worry.
But the one feeling that overpowered them all was the cold, empty pit in my stomach whenever I thought of the completely blank look Arnie had given me at the trial. Had given Nasha. Or had the nod been for me? Either way, what did it matter? He didn't even smile.
All too soon I'd reached the end of the line. The guard didn't have to kick my knees, I simply sank down and held my ear just above the surface of the pool.
I expected to feel the rush of memories the usually accompanies a primary Controlling. Instead, a very familiar presence touched my mind.
What?
Hi. Arnie greeted me as casually as if he'd only been gone a few hours.
Total and complete shock.
What... but how.... I... why...
What? I missed you.
But... They let you come back?
Arnie gave a mental shrug. They owed me a favor and were more than happy to get me out of the way after all the trouble I caused.
But... but doesn't that look suspicious?
Yeah, but that's okay. I'll deal with it later. Aren't you glad I'm back?
I... but... I stopped trying to argue and let my mind go blank. And for one brief moment, nothing mattered. Nothing but the fact that he was back. Yeah. I'm glad.
Good. Let's go home.
A.N. If anyone is curious about my North Korea comments, or doesn't believe them, I highly suggest you read 'Aquariums of Pyongyang.' Yes, there really are Holocaust-like concentration camps where entire families are put because one person has 'unpatriotic tendencies.'
