16 How to hide a fighter
- - -
If the careful scanning of Le'egarna's island had been bad, the scanning before their landing on Dina'amm was worse. When the fighters finally dared land, over an hour – maybe even two – had passed. Patrols of both Yeerk bugs and Kelbrid arrowhead fighters had been evaded, and a reasonable hiding place had been found.
They swooped down, one by one, with the smaller and quicker Hawk last.
Rachel and the three Kelbrid had been on Touched colonies before and knew the procedure. They almost herded the remaining crew out of the fighters, hurriedly threw out the packs and searched the area for eventual enemies.
When Rachel, Tom, KEdi'ir and JaLa'an came back from spying Sira'aki had more or less finished organizing camp.
Rachel walked up to her and decided to go right to the point. She had, even before the mission started, decided to send the pilots back once they reached Dina'amm.
"You Kelbrid can go back now," she said. "We'll manage from here."
Sira'aki turned towards her, surprised, her head on the side and a quizzical look in her black, white-pupilled eyes. "Are you asking us to leave, cer y'yhan?"
"I'm not asking anything, Sira'aki, you know me better than that. I'm telling you. Go back to Cava'ara and report to Ka'an. Send my best."
"And if we refuse, cer y'yhan?"
Rachel's eyes flashed dangerously. "You've never refused an order in your life, Sira'aki. Now is not a good time to start."
"Remember that you are not really a hornmaster," Sira'aki countered. "As it is, our only allegiance to you comes from respect for your courage – and for cer Ka'an's belief in you. But aside from that you're a foreigner, a non-Kelbrid, a garek, and Kelbrid never have taken orders from ga'arekh."
Sira'aki was joined by JaLa'an, and KEdi'ir stopped a few meters behind, realising that the conversation was for his mother and the other pilot to deal with.
"The cer y'yhan plans to send us back," Sira'aki said to JaLa'an.
JaLa'an shook his head. "Cer Ka'an gave us a task," he said to Rachel. "That was to make sure you and your friends reached Dina'amm safely. We all know how he hates losing troops, and perhaps you are correct; perhaps it is for the best if we go back. But I refuse to think that the cer y'yhan will be pleased if we leave any allies in danger. Especially not you."
Sira'aki agreed to that, giving a quick nod. "My pride would not allow it. I am staying, cer Rachel, with or without your permission – but hopefully with your respect."
The use of Rachel's pretended title signalled that even though Sira'aki would not agree to leave, she would take orders if she stayed. "Cer" was a short form of "cer y'yhan", meaning "leader", or "master". Among the Kelbrid, a title was a title, and intended to be used – the more often the better.
JaLa'an smiled, his right hand lightly touching his left shoulder – the Kelbrid equivalent of a bow. "We are staying to make sure you return safely as well, or until you no longer have use for us. We know this place better than you do, cer y'yhan, and we know the Touched. We will not be a burden."
"I never said you would be," Rachel muttered. "I just suggested that we might manage on our own."
"We don't doubt that," Sira'aki assured her. "But the best make mistakes, and it can't hurt to have three extra pairs of horns – just in case. Now that we are past that, there is the matter of the fighters…"
Rachel nodded, giving up her attempt to convince the two. On the matter of pride, or honour, which Sira'aki had brought up, no Kelbrid could be convinced a millimetre in any direction – she knew from experience.
Rachel left Tom to Jeanne and disappeared into Sira'aki's fighter. Before Jake, Tobias, Marco, Jeanne, Santorelli or Menderash had any time to react, the fighter lifted from the ground and flew away. Tom watched it leave with some worry in his dark golden eyes, but stayed dutifully at Jeanne's side, where he had been left.
«Okay, where is she going?» Tobias demanded.
The Kelbrid said nothing, and the fighter continued, flying close to the ground at a low speed and holding a steady course.
«I'm going after her,» Tobias announced, lifting his wings and soaring up on a puff of wind.
"Tobias, get back here!" Jake called. Although there was a time when Tobias might have listened, and even obeyed, the only reply this time was a sharp "Carfi'e!" from JaLa'an, and Menderash's automatic translation; "Silence!"
- - -
«As soon as he gets rid of the worst of the concussion, we'll have him morph the damage away,» Estrid said – for what was definitely not the first time. It was the morning – according to their internal Andalite clocks – of the second day. They had found no ships, and had now fallen back to searching for a suitable planet.
«Why not now?» Carali demanded – not a first, either.
Estrid sighed. «First of all, he has a very bad, nasty headache – not surprising,» she added dryly. «Which makes it close to impossible to focus – at least not enough to morph. Secondly, I gave him tarfat against the pain. Tarfat, as you probably know, has a few side effects… such as lessening concentration ability. At the moment Aralgo wouldn't be able to focus enough to bring his hand up to his face.»
«At the moment he's asleep.»
«Another excellent reason. Carali, do you have any experience in medicine? Or science, for that matter?»
«No, but –»
«Then shut up and let me handle this.»
Carali blinked, surprised. Estrid, as far as he had gotten to know her over the last day, rarely tried direct confrontations. She disliked arguments, it seemed, and preferred to lay out her opinions softly instead of booming them out for all to hear.
But maybe there were limits, after all.
«Yes, scientist,» he said lowly, only half aware of it. Months of military training left imprints.
At least on him.
Minalea, on the other hand, had spent her time devising new traps and pranks – and testing them. Therefore, walking in the Phantom was never completely safe. Nothing (well, almost nothing) was directly harmful. Not really. But after tripping over a wire for the seventy-ninth time, or finding that the door to your quarters suddenly opens and closes much too quickly for anything to pass by, or walking straight into a force field that you could swear had not been there the moment before, you grow very careful of your step.
And very irritated.
Estrid returned to her own quarters and Carali found Larynia and Olana on the bridge, discussing some planet that had shown on scanners.
«No signs of intelligent life,» Olana said, pointing with her small hand at a word on a hologram filled with bunches of numbers and words that made no sense at all unless you knew what to look for – which, also, was the point.
«That doesn't guarantee that there is none,» Larynia replied. «If a ship of this size, from this range, scanned our planet there'd be no signs of intelligent life. They can easily be hidden.»
«How much time do we have?» Carali wondered.
«Six, maybe eight hours,» Olana replied. «I have cancelled out energy from food, because our priorities are water and first of all air. We'll have to go hungry until we find somewhere to land. But that should give us the extra hours.»
«Maybe there is a way to figure out if this planet in inhabited after all,» Larynia said thoughtfully. «If we manage to reach the surface without being attacked by hostile fighters, it's probably safe.»
«But that's an all-or-nothing test,» Carali commented.
Larynia flicked her tail to the side, unconcerned. «We're pretty close already. We've encountered no patrols. No enemy ships at all. There are no satellites… no radio waves detected… no lights from the planet's surface. So far, our chances are good.»
«How far is it to the next habitable planet?» Carali asked.
«A nine-hour trip,» Olana said.
«That makes things easier,» Larynia said. «Gives us less of a choice. We're landing – unless a friendly ship appears in the nearest seven hours.»
«So we wait until the last moment?» Olana said, and Carali agreed; «Bad idea.»
«Why?»
«First of all,» Carali said, with a certain note of smugness. «Hanging around here leaves us out in the open. Practically inviting to attack. And a lot of hostile ships will have plenty of time to find us.»
«As they will on the planet,» Larynia countered.
«Yes, but less of a chance –» he rolled his stalks when Larynia began protesting. «Oh, just admit you're wrong!» he snapped. «If –»
«More importantly,» Olana said, cutting both of them short. «The less energy we have, the longer it will take to reload the rest. Wasting these seven hours will lengthen the loading by half a day. Do we really have half a day to waste?»
Larynia glared at her, and at Carali, but then gave up, seeing the logic in the argument. «Fine. As you wish; I'm convinced. We land now.»
«You actually admitted you were wrong. Good.» Carali grinned with his stalks. «See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?» He stretched out a hand to pat her on the shoulder.
She pulled away, sending him a warning stalk-glare. «It was a one-time occurrence. Land the ship, Olana. I'm going to make sure Minalea isn't causing too much trouble.»
«Bet she is,» Carali said, following as she left the bridge.
«Bet she isn't. She knows better.»
«I don't think so. Bet you're wrong.»
«Carali, haven't you learned? I'm never wrong.»
«Wrong again,» Carali laughed, only to find himself sprawled on the floor when his front hooves were slammed out from under him by Larynia's blade.
- - -
Tobias followed the fighter. He flapped his wings like mad for more speed. He was in luck; there was a good draft heading in the right direction, otherwise he would never have been able to keep up.
Rachel steered the craft out from the protection of the trees and into an open area. She headed out over a vast, almost circular area, filled from one end to the next with a golden, constantly shifting and sparkling material.
Water, Tobias realised. A lake. Although something in it made it sparkle like gold.
He did not follow the fighter out over the lake, being tired and feeling the strain in his wings as it was, and instead landed on a branch near the edge of it, from where he had a good view of where the fighter went. He stayed there until the fighter suddenly tipped its nose downward, and plunged towards the lake.
Then he raised his wings and flapped madly for altitude, calling «Rachel! There's a lake! You'll crash!»
But the fighter's door opened, and Rachel dove out, with all the elegancy of the gymnast she was. The fighter continued down under the surface – door again closed – and disappeared into the deeps. Rachel disappeared under the surface as well, but soon reappeared and began swimming in towards land – the direction she had come from.
Or at least so she thought. It was, without doubt, close enough, but she would save time if she had headed a bit more to the left.
Tobias settled back down on his branch and waited for her. When she came into thought-speech range, he said; «You scared me half to death.»
"Sorry." Rachel came out of the water, shook it off and ran her fingers through her hair once or twice in an effort to dry it. She tried to localize herself, where she was standing on the middle of the beach. That she was blind was suddenly, maybe for the first time, obvious. She looked a bit confused. Disoriented. The expression did not suit her at all.
«Wait,» Tobias said. «I'll help.» He fluttered down to land on her shoulder, feeling much better once he was there. Rachel's sudden nose-dive with the fighter had worried him. «There. Walk. Do you know the way back?»
"Like my own pocket," Rachel replied, smiling, starting to walk. "I did my best to memorize it – the fighter helped me. And besides, Sira'aki will be sending Tom to find me any moment. And he'll know the way."
«Why did you do that, anyway?»
"Do what?"
«With the fighter.»
"Oh. I hid it. We don't want the Touched to get it while we're busy."
«I guess we don't. But any decent scanner could tell it's down there.»
"Yep. But Kelbrid can't swim. In face, they're terrified of water deeper than their ankles. And kii-rajas are even worse – that's why I had to leave Tom. So they'll know it's down there, but they'll leave it alone. Cause they don't dare go after it, and it isn't worth the trouble to have the Yeerks fetch it."
«Tom's coming,» Tobias said.
"Perfect timing, as always," Rachel said, stretching out a hand. Tom pressed his nose into it and then took his usual place by her side, with a look on his face that could only be described as relief. "Let's go," Rachel said, grabbing a hold of Tom's tail and following easily as he set off at a loping run.
Tobias lifted into the air and flew instead. «Why the hurry?»
"We need to hide all three fighters and be far away from our landing place before the Touched start wondering about the three unlicensed landings. And hiding the fighters is my job, so I've got no time to waste."
- - -
Again and again Arayah found herself standing in the storage, watching the four dracons. She never knew how she had gotten there, or how long she had been there, but each time it was harder to leave.
This time it was impossible. She stood for over half an hour, the One's last order burning like a bonfire in her thoughts, making everything else dim down until it was puny and insignificant.
"You will go through with it, you know," the One's voice said suddenly, in her mind. When she jerked in shock, he laughed dryly and added; "Don't be so surprised. I'm watching you, my little Andalite. Of course I can talk to you."
He sighed, still only a thought of her own mind. Even with thought-speech you could tell it came from someone else; the One's thoughts were a part of her, as much as her own.
"You've been very bad, Arayah," he continued. "Trying to evade this. But I am still proud of you – at least you did a good job at it."
«I cannot kill them,» Arayah whispered. «Cannot.»
"Oh, but you can," he purred. "And will. Grab a dracon."
She did.
"And go finish this. Now."
«Strategically, this is not a good time…» Arayah began weakly, remembering that Langur, Arifur and Jakari were all on the bridge – and awake. The odds were against her. Against. She strengthened that picture in her mind until –
"Stop that!" the One barked, annoyed. Then silenced, although she could feel his fuming presence in the back of her mind. "You're not fighting me to win," he said, after what felt like a long time. "You know that, Andalite. You're only fighting so you can tell yourself you tried."
He laughed at her, but cut himself off. "NOW GET TO THAT BRIDGE!"
- - -
There was no warning. Jakari only knew what was happening when he heard the 'tseew' of the dracon.
He, Arifur and Langur had been standing by the consoles, with all four eyes either watching the consoles or the unfamiliar space outside. Not keeping a stalk swivelling was against the very basis of warrior training. If they had not been so deep in worried thoughts about where they were they might have avoided dropping the habit. But they shrugged it off, thinking there was anything to fear on their own ship.
Behind them, Arayah snuck slowly and silently through the corridor. She took a place where the corridor widened into the bridge and, still not making a sound, prepared to fire. Nothing betrayed her presence.
Not until the shot rang out. Not until Jakari – and Arifur and Langur – heard the TSEEW and Jakari felt a burning pain between his shoulder blades. He let out a piercing thought-speech cry and fell forwards.
At any higher power the shot would have killed him, burning off his spine and lungs. At any closer range it would have done the same. But by some twist of fate, luck, or even irony, the dracon was set to medium power. Neither the One or Arayah had even considered that possibility.
Jakari fell, landing sprawled over the consoles, managing to bruise almost every part of him that was not already burned by the dracon. But he was alive. And aware enough to begin morphing the damage away. And Arifur and Langur had spun around to face the danger.
It took them a few moments to get over the shock of Arayah's pain-stricken but ice-cold and determined face. Of her holding a dracon and aiming it at them.
It took Arayah half as long to register what was wrong with the dracon, set it to high power, and aim it again.
When the two warriors had arched their tails up and prepared to charge, finally realizing that she was – in fact – set to kill them, her finger was already beginning to pull the trigger.
- - -
"Mom, it's Cassie!" Jordan cried. "She's on TV!"
Naomi sighed heavily, but was thankful for the excuse to look up from her work. "Has there been another killing in the valley?"
She heard her daughter laugh. "No, silly, it's about the ships. Humanity's new fleet. Every TV-station in the world is sending live about those stupid ships."
"Yeah," Sara agreed. "Even MTV:s gone boring on us."
Naomi rose slowly from her chair and left the room to join her two surviving daughters in the living room.
Cassie really was on TV. And it was not another moral lecture, sent from the valley. Cassie was standing beside a lot of sober, important-looking people, among them a good number of well-known political faces, and was holding a speech about the ships. Security people were visible everywhere around.
Naomi smiled, knowing well what Cassie truly thought about holding speeches. Fortunately, the girl had sense enough not to let that show on her face as she spoke. Her words, carried live to the world, were well rehearsed and she did not falter once. Naomi sat down on the couch to listen, pushing painful memories of Rachel firmly out of her mind before they got too good a hold.
She listened with half an ear to what Cassie was saying. The girl was standing in clear view, wearing her normal clothing, not having bothered about dressing up for the occasion. It made her stand out clearly from the people around her. She was looking out over what probably was an audience of journalists and important people. She was just raising her voice to wrap up what she was saying –
Then a single shot rang out.
It hit Cassie.
No time to react, no time for a second look, before the Animorph disappeared from the TV's screen. The camera shook, and the scene quickly got panicked.
The transmission was cut and a news reporter appeared on the screen, excusing the sudden cut and explaining this and this and that and that. The main thing was that they had received orders to stop sending. They would, however keep the TV audience up-to-date about events as best they could.
Naomi did not listen further than that. She turned to her side, to look down at Sara's horrified face. Jordan sat further away, and was also staring at her mother, with an almost identical expression.
"Mom…" Sara said slowly. "They didn't… they didn't shoot Cassie… did they?"