11 When the Chosen defy the Whole
- - -
"They probably know you're here," Rachel said gravely, as she lifted up a chair to put it back in its place. Tom was lying near the entrance of her – somehow – still standing cylindrical home. His golden eyes followed her every move, and she knew roughly where she was and what was around her.
"Who?" Jake asked, as he and Menderash lifted up the table, that had been tipped over. One of the legs were broken, and Jake added; "The table's broken."
"Leave it. I'll get someone to fix it."
"Who?" Marco reminded her. He was looking through their packs, trying to find some – as he called it – 'decent food'. "Who knows we're here?"
"The Yeerks," Rachel said. "and, thereby, the Touched."
"Hey," Jeanne said lowly. "If we've dragged this colony into trouble, we're sorry. Right?"
At the sharp tone of the last word, there were a lot of nods and agreeing mumbles.
Rachel smiled approvingly. "You've got them all nicely drilled there, Jeanne," she said.
Jeanne shrugged. "You've got no idea how annoying they can be sometimes. Don't listen to a word I say."
"It's not like we're a pack of dogs," Marco muttered.
"No. But in your case, it's close." Rachel flashed a perfect smile in his general direction.
"Jake!" Marco complained. "They're at it again! Tell them to stop!"
Jake rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, don't worry about the colony," Rachel said, picking up where they had left off. "The Touched have known about this place for a long time. Usually, they leave us alone, unless we deliver the first strike – the One doesn't consider us worth his time. But now you've angered the Yeerks, so they wanted some payback."
"Typical Yeerks," Menderash spat. "sending others to do their dirty work."
"Strange for Yeerks to trust anyone else with a mission like this," Marco disagreed, sending a sharp glance at the former Andalite – at which Menderash got something stubborn in his expression.
"They don't have a choice," Rachel said, looking very pleased. "That's why the resistance stays here instead of moving on like we usually do; Yeerks can't come to Cava'ara."
"Ooh," Marco said, head snapping up from the packs and face alight with a grin worth remembering. "I like it. Why not?"
"Kandrona particles came from their sun, as you know," Rachel started. "Cava'ara's sun emits particles that break down Kandrona."
"Causing instant Kandrona starvation," Menderash finished, eyes shining, hands trembling the slightest bit with excitement.
"It would if they came close enough," Rachel agreed. "But none have made it that close still alive. They stay FAR away. If they chase you, you'll lose them half a light-year away."
"Top Andalite scientists spent years trying to develop something capable of doing that," Menderash continued, maybe mostly to himself. "They never succeeded. To lay their hands on this…"
"Ehm, newsflash," Marco said, waving a concerned hand in front of Menderash's face. "Andalite attempts at biological warfare are over. Hopefully. Anyway, the Yeerk War is."
"There are still Yeerks," Menderash snapped, slapping Marco's hand away.
"Are they a threat?" Marco wondered.
"They might become one," Menderash insisted. "We are only trying to keep the universe safe."
"Do you Andalites always think that way? You're the top players – the big brothers of the universe – and when a suspected bully comes along you crush him before he gets half a chance to mischief? And if you crush a few innocent aliens in the process, who cares?"
"Calm down," Jake said, but no-one was listening.
"Are you insulting my species?!" Menderash demanded, fists clenched.
"I'm pointing out their drawbacks," Marco said. "But also saying this; don't condemn a species after what a few have done."
"And protecting Yeerks, I see," the former Andalite growled.
"You're the ones who tried to blow up my planet!" Marco pointed out, flying to his feet and stabbing an accusing finger at Menderash. "Not to mention the Hork-Bajir!"
"Hey! I said; Calm down!" Jake repeated. Menderash and Marco weren't listening, glaring at each other, Menderash with his fists clenched, Marco's face set in a grim expression. Menderash was about to let out another remark…
"DO AS HE SAYS OR I'LL SET TOM ON BOTH OF YOU!" Rachel roared. Tom's head snapped up to watch her when he heard his name.
That made them glance uncertainly in the kii-raja's direction. Menderash's hands unclenched with a jerk and Marco's grim face softened.
Rachel nodded. "I'll have no arguments in my house," she declared. "Especially not when it's still a mess from the Touched's last visit. Is that clear?"
No answer.
"And the proper reply would be, 'yes, Rachel'," Jeanne informed them sharply. Jake agreed with a curt nod.
"Fine," Marco muttered, returning to the packs.
"Agreed," Menderash mumbled, leaving the house quickly.
Santorelli shook his head. "Those two always seemed to be friends. What set that off, anyway? Andalite pride?"
"Andalite prejudice," Marco corrected below his breath. "and not for the first time."
"Maybe Marco's big mouth," Rachel said, shrugging. "Who knows? Who cares?" she made a gesture with her hand and Tom stood up, stretching lazily, one leg at a time like a dog.
"I'm going to see to that prisoner," Rachel said. "That Kelbrid said he was acting strange. It's my job to figure out what to do with him." She made her way to the door, and when she left the house her kii-raja followed.
"Prisoner?" Jeanne said, head on the side. "What prisoner?"
«A Touched prisoner,» Tobias said. «The resistance caught him during the attack.»
"Why don't they send for Ka'an?"
«Long story.»
"While she sees to the prisoner," Santorelli said. "What do we do?"
"First of all, fetch back Menderash," Jake said, ignoring Marco's glare. "Except for Rachel, he's the only one who understands Kelbrid. We need him here. Tobias?"
The name came out by habit, but Tobias only turned towards Jake with an and-since-when-do-I-take-orders-from-you-look. He had not exactly become any fonder of Jake since they had been reunited with Rachel; even though she now was alive, not dead, it had ripped up the old anger.
"Tobias? Go find Menderash," Jeanne said softly, to avoid another display of anger.
«I'm on it,» Tobias agreed, if with less enthusiasm than in the past. He turned away from Jake, and flapped out through the new and only window; a hole in the roof with charred edges.
- - -
Tom bared his teeth and growled loudly at the prisoner as soon as he set eyes on him.
"I know," Rachel said. "I know."
Kii-raja had a very unusual – and most likely unique – sense of smell. They 'smelled' DNA. And, possibly, there was a mutation in the DNA of the Touched that Tom could smell – and did not like.
Or it was just the unnatural shining green of their eyes.
Tom huffed, looked suspiciously at the silent Kelbrid, but then sat down. He flashed a mental picture to Rachel of the prisoner; whose left wrist blade was crooked and one eye was missing. In its place was a wicked scar after a bad burn, and the distorted skin of his forehead hung loosely over the empty socket like a curtain.
"Has he spoken?" Rachel asked the two guards softly in the Kelbrid tongue.
"Not yet, cer y'yhan," one of them said. There was another kii-raja half-sleeping a short distance away. Captive Kelbrid were always kept with a guarding kii-raja nearby; even if they escaped the guards, they would not escape the kii-raja.
Just then the prisoner looked up, and glared with his one eye at Rachel, just then noticing her presence. "Human," he sneered.
"But no Yeerk," Rachel replied calmly. Her fluency in Kelbrid language made his one eye widen in surprise and anger – and, surprisingly, approval. "I'm not Kelbrid, but I suggest you listen up anyway. What's your name?"
"We Chosen need no names, since we are mere parts of the glorious Whole!" his eye shone manically.
"You had a name once. What was it?"
But the prisoner was deep in his own thoughts, staring forwards, straight through her as if she was not even there. "The One disapproves of those who allow themselves to be captured," he said, as if only thinking aloud.
"Name?" Rachel repeated sharply.
One of the guards flew to his feet. "YOU WILL REPLY WHEN ASKED A QUESTION!!" he roared. The sleeping kii-raja awoke with a start from the movement and jumped up as well, baring his teeth, tail whipping from side to side behind him.
"They called me… Ki'in," said the Touched, as if the name was a distant memory hard to bring up. "Or was it TaKi'in?"
"Fair enough," Rachel decided. "First of all, you need to understand…"
TaKi'in squirmed where he sat, expression changed, and his tightly bound horns made an attempt to move. "I came with reason," he said. "The One… the Whole… would… disapprove." His single eye closed, the slits on his cheeks flared open. He shuddered as if in pain, but there was nothing near to hurt him
Rachel and the two guards went silent at once. A Touched doing something the One would disapprove of?
That was new.
Rachel sat down on the floor in front of TaKi'in. The Kelbrid guards began to object – she was sitting well within reach of his wrist blades, and according to custom only the horns were restrained. Rachel ignored them. Tom was sitting only half a meter away; she had nothing to fear.
"Tell me what you've done," she said softly.
"No direct orders to stop me," TaKi'in explained, his one eye still closed, and rocking back and forth, hands clenched. "If no order…"
"We know how it works," Rachel said.
TaKi'in's eye opened so suddenly that Tom let out a growl and the guards took a step closer. Rachel sat motionless, seeing that movement no better than anything else. But her other senses were sharpened to hear the Touched's next words.
"The One… caught an Andalite. A Taken Andalite. Five others… from same ship… trapped." He shuddered. "The One wants… Andalites… among the Chosen."
"The five Andalites. They need help?"
TaKi'in failed to reply, but continued rocking back and forth, the cheek-slits showing clearly his rapid breaths. Defying the One was hard for anyone in his presence, once he focused his will on them… but the Touched lived under his will. For them to defy him…
The two guards were suddenly regarding their prisoner with a good lot of respect.
The Touched had no choice but to follow orders the One gave. Otherwise, they could do as they pleased. But if they ever did something the One would dislike, with the purpose of defying him… then things grew hard. Very hard.
"Not all Chosen like the Whole," TaKi'in continued, and his voice had lost the normal musical tone of Kelbrid and fallen to a harsh rasping. "There is… resistance. But it is hard…" he fell forwards with a cry, and the first guard yanked Rachel out of the way. Tom flew up but Rachel grabbed at him to keep him back. The other kii-raja lowered his head warningly.
When the second guard pulled TaKi'in back up the Touched was sobbing. Blood was pouring out of his cheek-slits, his single eye beginning to fade, the life running out of it.
"So hard…" he sobbed. "But… must stop. No more. No more… Chosen. No Andalite Chosen…"
He fell again, like someone nodding off to sleep. Rachel saw it through Tom's eyes and grabbed his shoulders, pushed him up, and took a rough hold on his chin to wake him up again. "TaKi'in. What can we do?"
TaKi'in's ears leaned outwards in a weak smile. "My name. I… have not heard… my name… for…"
"The Andalites," Rachel snapped. "Where are they held?"
"…for… a long time."
"TaKi'in; listen –"
"Arnaha," begged the Touched, his voice barely audible, his eye staring straight into one of Rachel's. "Tirish jha'arnaha."
Then the last flame of life faded in TaKi'in's one eye and he slumped together, lifeless.
Rachel said a silent prayer in Kelbrid manner before she stood up. Tom sniffed at the still-warm corpse, and lay his ears back, growling. Rachel pulled lightly, reprimanding, at one of his ears and he looked up at her, wondering what she wanted.
"Take care of him," Rachel ordered the guards, waving a hand at TaKi'in. "Make sure he is treated like one of our own warriors – and make sure Ka'an doesn't find out."
"Yes, cer y'yhan," the first guard said, his right hand flying up to touch his left shoulder in a sign of respect.
Through Tom's eyes, before she left, Rachel saw the two beginning to gently undo the bonds on TaKi'in's horns. The Touched prisoner had left an impression on the two.
On Rachel as well, but of another kind. She was deep in thoughts when she left the conical house where the prisoner had been kept.
- - -
Estrid waited outside Kandion's quarters for a long time before the Captain finally made an appearance. Minalea had offered to break security and have the door opened that way, but Estrid had declined, firmly, not considering that to be at all fitting.
Captain Kandion greeted her with a minimal lowering of stalks, his face unreadable. «Might I help you in any way, scientist?»
Estrid drew some courage. She had faced worse than a simple ship's Captain. «In fact you can. It is about Olana…»
«Aristh Olana will be sent off this ship, as the other arisths,» Kandion replied curtly. «Anything else?»
«Why?» Estrid asked. «'The other arisths'? Are they all to be sent away?»
Kandion gave her a long, evaluating look.
«Is Olana being sent home?» Estrid asked.
«Of course not,» Kandion said. «Only transferred. The Fleet does not give up on arisths so easily. No aristh shall be sent home from my ship. But at the moment I will see them all transferred.» He sighed heavily. «If that was all, scientist, you must excuse me; I have more important matters to see to.»
He began trotting away, speedily, but Estrid set the same pace and followed.
«Why, Captain?» she demanded.
«Are you going to insist that I answer that?»
«Yes, I am.»
Another evaluating look, this time with his stalks. The Captain's proud expression flickered for half a moment, and he stopped, turned towards her, his dark eyes for once looking worried.
«Then I better do so,» he said softly, reverting to private thought-speech. «No use battling where I cannot win. Here is my reply; the Fleet is afraid.»
«Afraid of what?» Estrid asked, as surprised by his change of manner as by his words.
«Afraid of the Kelbrid, scientist. We still know nothing about them. Ships that return, ships we hear from, are ships that have encountered nothing. Eight of ten ships disappear like a breath of fresh air in a hurricane. And now… now…» Another sigh.
«And now your orders have come,» Estrid finished, seeing where he was going. «Orders to join the ranks at the front. And …» her eyes narrowed «…you do not wish to bring your arisths along.»
«This is a stupid war,» Kandion said bluntly. «But I am only a War-Prince, I can do nothing to change it. We should gather our strengths and wait for them to come out. We need a war in the open; not in darkness. Our Fleet is not adapted for fighting an enemy we cannot see.»
«They will dislike this, Captain,» Estrid commented. «They would not want to be sent away, if they knew.»
«They do not need to know. Even if they did; I am their Captain, as well as their War-Prince. They shall follow orders.»
Estrid's first purpose, to discuss the personal war between the arisths, was forgotten. She suddenly had another goal. «Let them stay.»
«Why? To lead them to their deaths?»
«Captain. As far as I know, they all volunteered to become arisths. They probably knew it would lead to a warrior's life, and most likely, sooner or later, their deaths. And if they have not thought that far yet, it is time someone opened their eyes.»
To her surprise, Kandion smiled, approving of her words; «Wisely spoken.»
«Give them a chance, at least. Tell them they will all be sent home if they do not behave faultlessly from now on. Teach them that war is not fun and games.»
«Have you been to war, scientist?» Kandion asked, watching her with an entirely new expression. The curt expression, the reined contempt of youth and feminity and a scientist's intellectualism, was gone. Not that Estrid had blamed him for it; she was still young, barely an adult, and to Kandion's war-hardened eyes she must have seemed an ignorant child.
«I was sent to Earth with three others,» Estrid said carefully. And added; «Before the victory. So, if not true war, I have seen battles.»
Kandion – to her relief – asked no further questions, and Estrid said no more. But to her shock, the Captain asked; «What of you, scientist? Will you be willing to be transferred, or sent home, or do you wish to remain on my ship?»
«I shall stay as long as I am allowed to,» she replied.
«Tell me immediately if, at any time, you wish to be sent home. I shall arrange it,» he promised, giving her a side look. «But now I must tend to my ship.» He bowed his stalks, with a touch of real respect this time, and turned to gallop away.
By the dropshaft he stopped. He did not turn to face her, not even swivel his stalks back, but he spoke clearly; «Scientist. If you truly have seen battle, and still aim for war, then I ask your pardon for underestimating you. You are braver than you first appear.»
«Brave?» Estrid said, partly blushing, shifting her weight to another set of hooves, and allowing herself a laugh. «I'm terrified.»
«Still, you are here,» Kandion said simply, and disappeared down the dropshaft.
Estrid thought that over as she returned to the labs.
- - -
"Arnaha," Rachel repeated TaKi'in's last plea in a murmur to herself. "Tirish jha'arnaha. Wise words."
«What words?»
Rachel bent her head back with a smile to look up by well-rooted habit before she remembered that she was blind. Lowering her own with a sigh, she lifted Tom's head up and he sent a rough sketch of the purple-shaded sky and the hawk circling down towards them.
"What are you doing here?"
«I had to fetch back Menderash. Now, I'm just taking a look around. And I'm landing on your shoulder,» Tobias warned. «Just so I won't frighten you and end up as Tom's lunch.»
Rachel smiled. "I can still recognize the feel of talons on my shoulder," she said, as Tobias landed. She reached up a hand to stroke his chest. "Especially yours."
«Good. I'd feel insulted if you didn't. What words were you talking about?»
"I just had a talk with a very unusual prisoner," Rachel said. "He's dead now, though."
Tobias's fierce gaze was felt if not seen.
"Not our fault," Rachel added hastily. "Do you really think I'd let him die? Torture him, or something?"
«Yes,» Tobias remarked. «If it suited you.»
"Oh, that stung," Rachel replied, indifferently. "But you're wrong. I wouldn't sink that low. Torture wouldn't do any good with the Touched, anyway; telling an enemy anything is bad enough for them, because their One doesn't like it. Doing something the One disapproves of is… unpleasant. This one – his name was TaKi'in – he spoke a bit too much for his own good health."
«And died?» Tobias said sceptically.
"He was rocking back and forth as if in pain and breathing blood," Rachel revealed. "Then he died. But he was really helpful."
«Sad story,» Tobias sighed.
"He said 'tirish jha'arnaha'. It means 'must find freedom', or 'must find liberty'."
«Wise words.»
"That's what I thought, too. It was the last thing he said. I wonder…" she silenced.
«What?»
"A Kelbrid's last words are, according to custom, the most important thing he or she ever said. A wounded Kelbrid will keep alive long enough for someone to hear them. And 'tirish jha'arnaha'…"
«I think that's all he meant to say. Important enough.»
Rachel shrugged her free shoulder. "Probably. The question is if he meant it as a statement or a clue." With Tom at her side (unavoidably) and Tobias still on her shoulder she began walking again, heading towards her home. "We need to talk to Jake. And Menderash, too."
«Why?»
"TaKi'in mentioned five Andalite prisoners."
- - -
Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthil felt the stir in his mind. Or what was left of it.
He felt sleepy. Heavily drugged. Thoughts were sluggish. Incoherent. They could begin on one subject and end on something completely different. When he managed to end them at all.
When his body was put to use he was most awake. Otherwise, after that first feel of power, that first touch of evil and strength, when he had been and felt more alive than ever before… there was only a shapeless fog. Impossible to move, hard to think.
Usually when the being that held him brought out his body, it felt strange. Confined. There was a word for it… if he could remember it.
Two-dimensional. Yes. That was it; he was trapped in two dimensions. His mind was still in three. Even if he was unable to think rationally far enough to figure that out. And, although the One could keep his mind barely aware, he had a hard time 'shutting it down' as he did with the body.
This time was different, Aximili noticed. This time there was no confinement. The creature that held him dared to let him out in all three dimensions.
Which, he knew at once, gave him more freedom. The One lost a lot of control, over both his body and his mind. His thoughts were clearing out, and with a bit of effort the inputs to his senses began to make actual sense.
Fresh air, his nose told him. Trees and grass. But all of it foreign; all of it alien. There was a soft wind, and dewy grass under his hooves that was just bitter enough to make him want to lift his hooves away from it. Voices talked around him; Hork-Bajir, human, Taxxons and a lot of alien, musically falling and rising voices. None of them sounded happy.
Finally he broke free enough for the blur that was sight to take form. The One tried to push him back into place, but once Aximili had hold of sight he had no intention of letting go. Although he knew that the One could easily force him.
«Let me,» he said in his mind. «I will not do any harm.»
«What harm can you do?» the One sneered, a voice inside his own mind; the master's voice. But the being let him keep hold of sight.
Probably since Aximili was – to his soul – a warrior, the One realised that snatching sight away would not have been child's play – and also, he thought in his arrogance, not worth his energy.
Aximili did not savour his small victory, knowing it really was worth nothing and meant even less. He was looking out through his eyes – for the first time in, how long? he did not know – and seeing other Andalites. Although it took some time to recognize how Andalites looked, and even longer to realise it was Andalites he saw. But there was something wrong with these Andalites. At first, he could not, however he tried, put his finger on it. There was something missing… and something which should not be there.
Then it struck him; they lacked the Andalite pride – arrogance, some would say – and their tails were lowered. Only a few moments after that did he notice that the tails were held down by fetters. They were held tightly by shackles; shackles that secured both tails and hands, tied them together, and left the Andalite without any defence other than his fleetness of hoof.
The shackles puzzled Aximili.
Three of them, totally, being loaded into a small cruiser, herded almost like cattle. The first walked easily, almost unharmed, still strong enough to resist. But the two others were in very bad shape, staggering forwards slowly, skin lined with cuts and blisters and bruises and swellings, fur coated with blood, and not caring the slightest where they were being taken. After some extra thought he recognized them; from his own crew. A sudden insight told him, after that, that he had a crew, too. He had forgotten that.
But Aximili only saw what the One looked at. And before he could remember any names, or ranks, the being averted his eyes to look another way. At another Andalite. This one was being carried roughly by Hork-Bajir. No shackles, no wounds, but despite that he barely moved, and then only to breathe.
Another crewmember. There was a name… a name that was just out of reach. Before he had found it, the One slammed down on him like a pouncing cat on a mouse.
«Now, Andalite, you will behave,» he ordered. «No tricks.»
Aximili at that point was not sure who the being was talking to. 'Andalite', who was that? But the order seemed directed at him, and the first thing that came to mind was «Yes, Prince Jake,» so that is what he said.
The One laughed at him. Strange. Prince Jake would never… he would… or would he? Would what? Who, by the way? Confusing.
Fuzz and fog turned back to sight. Aximili was making sense of what he saw before he had straightened out what he was thinking.
Another Andalite, again. Female. From his own crew. The others had disappeared into the cruiser.
But this one was walking free. No shackles.
Aximili's blood seethed. Or it would have, if his mind had been more connected to his body. At least it did mentally; and that was enough. He was unsure as to why… there was something untrustworthy about a prisoner without shackles. Or there was something in general about that female. He felt anger, but was not sure where it was aimed. At the female, or at those who were guarding her?
Before he investigated the thought further, there came another blow from the One; a sledgehammer to his head. His mind spun wildly again. But he focused hard and returned to more or less coherent thought relatively quickly.
The One was talking. To the female… Arayah. The name came as a surprise, but he knew it was the right one. As well as he knew anything. He could not hear any words from what they were saying… he heard voices, but the words were hidden in a mix of mumbles.
Then suddenly he knew. He knew what was happening. He knew about the One's plan. Making Arayah a form of messenger, to grab hold of the Andalites as he had of the Kelbrid. To add another species to his Chosen. If it was something that had leaked out from the triumphing One or if it was something he somehow had figured out himself, he would never know.
But he knew it had to be stopped.
The One beat him down again and his mind emptied. What he had been thinking of was gone, melted away like snow in a sauna.