About energycodes
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What Melissa wanted was quite simple, Marco had to admit. And probably more than worth what she would give in return. She was practically handing over the keys to not only the Blade Ship, but to all the secrets of the Yeerks, the Kelbrid – and anything she happened to know about the One.
And she knew the secrets of Touch.
It turned out the Yeerks had done some research on the subject, and found that Touch was simply the addition of a gene; a change in DNA. Firstly, it helped the One find his Chosen when they were far away. It made the pupils of them shine green, made it impossible fro them to go directly against the One's bidding – much as it was impossible to bend your elbow the wrong way – and added a very cruel reflex: as the thought of food could make someone's mouth water, the thought and action of displeasing the One caused pain, and if it went on long enough individual cells in muscles and organs would begin to tear themselves apart, ultimately leading to the Touched's death.
Melissa spoke of it in a very monotone voice, something dangerous glinting in the edge of her eyes, and Marco figured that she probably had first-hand experience of it all and considered the scientific approach to paint a very vague picture indeed.
But there was a way to get rid of it – and it was as simple as just morphing. Melissa was smiling as she explained that when a person first acquired the morphing power their DNA was stored away so that the body would always know what to demorph into. She asked Menderash to confirm that, something he grumpily did, and with a smug expression she continued by saying; "The rest is simple. The One adds a gene, and there's no medicine against it, no way to get rid of it… but if the person morphs and demorphs they will still demorph to their original DNA – without that extra gene. Of course, you have to be morphable before you become Touched. And if the One ever finds out, he'll banish morphing and things will get complicated."
Surprising everyone – maybe mostly herself – LuRi'il was the next to speak. Rachel had been passing on the main parts of the conversation to the Kelbird, including their prisoner.
"No'o leth ce'e kahe'i palh kilm U'uhn fe ce'e i'artesh kon'yt sehy pa'ani'h?" she whispered, but in a voice that made the others stop to listen, even though most of them did not understand a word. "Sehy yey. Sehy carf. Sehy myri'ith."
"'How can you hide from the One that you are no longer part of his network?'" Rachel translated. "'He sees, he hears, he knows.'" she frowned thoughtfully. "LuRi'il does have a point, Melissa. Doesn't the One get suspicious when you suddenly aren't reachable by mind?"
Melissa spat angrily at the ground beside her, and then stared straight at LuRi'il, eyes flashing. "She probably knows the answer to that one herself."
"Still," Jake said, a tinge of menace in his voice. "It's a good question. Answer it."
"I will," Melissa retorted and glared up at him. "The One only worries about the Chosen he can use for the moment. Us commoners aren't more important to him than those he kills. We are… expendable, and easily replaced. The ones who've freed themselves, including me, all act like we still need to obey him – the arrogant bastard – when he's near, and he's shown no signs of suspicion."
"The question isn't what he shows, but what he thinks," Marco muttered.
"Look, if he found out about this, he'd have all Chosen forbidden to morph and the ones who've freed themselves killed. If he'd suspected something, I wouldn't be here. At least not in one piece."
That sounded logical enough. In fact, all of Melissa's explanations sounded logical. So, Marco concluded, she was either telling the truth – or she was very good at improvising.
But lying or telling the truth, what she wanted in return was simple; a safe return back to Earth, away from everything Yeerk or Touched. All she wanted was to come with them when they left Dina'amm. And that was plain truth; her eyes shone with a blind eagerness – almost a desperation – that simply could not have been fake.
It was a reasonable demand. None of them found any reason to deny her that.
But the question remained – could Melissa be trusted? If they let her walk, she would do one two things; keep her end of the deal – or report them directly to the One.
Jake was doubtful. "It's a huge risk," he murmured, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know…"
Melissa shrugged. "So don't let me go. Fine. Wait until they start wondering where I am. Wait until they start suspecting my disappearance has something to do with those two dead technicians – and start searching the woods."
"That sounds a lot like a threat," Santorelli said, dark in the face as he watched Melissa.
Marco agreed, but kept quiet. Melissa was right, of course. They were already in a mess, having blown most of what cover they had, and ideas of remaining unnoticed were as good as gone.
"If you let me go, I can go back, make up a story and they'll suspect nothing," Melissa told them. "Officially, I'm still a Touched. So they would believe me if I told them the Blade ship was white – they'd think it came from the One, and immediately accept it." She made a wry face. "And I'm high enough in rank to silence any complainers. In fact, another promotion and I'd be able to check out my own fighter and leave… but the One hasn't promoted anyone since we arrived here, and no-one has the guts to do it for him."
"Well, Jake?" Jeanne said softly. "Decision time. Does she stay or go?"
Jake looked intently at Melissa. "How can we be sure you won't betray us?"
"I give you my word. Got nothing else to give, so…" she shrugged. "Best I can do. You're right when you said that I've changed, Jake… I'm aware of that. But Rachel's right as well. I won't break a deal."
Jake looked around. At the Kelbrid, who stared back intently with their black, white-pupilled eyes, giving no help whatsoever. At Menderash, who folded his gaze down, indicating that he did not consider it his decision – although the tightness in his expression clearly showed his opinion on the matter. At Jeanne, who shook her head slowly. And Santorelli, who said; "I don't know this girl – this Melissa. I'm not going to decide." Finally, Jake turned to Rachel.
Her opinion was clear. "I trust my friend, Jake. Do the same." It was – in classic Rachel style – more of an order than a suggestion.
Jake rubbed his temples. "Marco?"
Marco shrugged. "If we don't let her go they might come looking for us. If we let her go she might betray us so they come looking for us. Let me put it this way; I trust Yeerk suspicion more than I distrust Melissa."
Jake raised his eyebrows in confusion at Marco's riddle-like answer. He wasn't the only one.
"Marco? This is not supposed to be a guessing game," Jeanne said, annoyed. "Are you voting yes or no?"
Marco waved a dismissing hand and turned away. "I'm saying let her go," he muttered. "They'll be snapping at our heels whether she tells them to or not."
"So she walks," Rachel concluded, smiling at her friend. "And now you're back on our side, Mel. How does it feel?"
Melissa simply laughed. "It has to be better than the Yeerk side."
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Aralgo was bored. He stood keeping an eye on the computer, now and then changing the path of the transfer to avoid it being tracked – dull work.
An energy code. He was not entirely sure he remembered everything about them from his schooling, but he recalled enough. It was the pattern used energy particles travelled in – the pattern in which they struck a surface, to be exact – and it could be simple or complex, long or short. The energy code showed on screen was simply that pattern put into letters and digits.
There were a few major ones, that all Andalites reading any advanced technology had been told to memorize. The patterns for shredders and dracons were similar, and simple, and classics for quizzes. A few more difficult ones had appeared on tests and for assignments. For extra credit they could have learned any code for anything from solar energy to the energy used in escafil devices.
Dull work. Except for those who longed to see the pattern; those obsessed with it. Like Aralgo's teacher. He had almost drilled his students to death – from boredom, that is.
Aralgo shuddered as he remembered those long hours and turned his attention back to the loading of the silly code.
But the next time he changed the path of the transfer, the program Olana had designed detected a tracking. Aralgo felt a chill rush down his tail, and immediately made a copy of the transfer – just in time to see the trackers cancelling the first one.
He led the new transfer through path after path, making sure it was not tracked, and finally settled it where he thought it might be safe – at least safer. As long as it just loaded properly…
It was not long until he heard sounds from outside the Phantom. He leapt to the doorway, cast a look outside, and saw two warriors moving towards him, stalks angrily darting back and forth.
Of course. He had saved the download of that energy code Olana wanted so badly, but he'd still been tracked. The SwiftHoof's mechanics and pilots knew their database had been hacked, and they knew someone on the Phantom had done it. The warriors had been sent to deal with it.
He swivelled a stalk towards the computer, and sent it a command in thought- speech. Display file. On screen.
A hologram appeared, and on it came what had been loaded of the energy code, in digits and letters. As the code loaded, they changed, melted together or grew apart, all too quickly for the eye to follow; too quickly for it to be read properly.
Aristh! a warrior's voice barked from outside. Come out at once!
Aralgo stared at the hologram. The pattern was beginning to emerge; a pattern he recognized. The code was almost complete… just a few moments… just…
Come out! roared the warrior. When Aralgo stayed where he was, the two came into the Phantom.
The code was done. Aralgo read it through, once, twice; knowing he recognized it, knowing he knew what it was… but that spark of knowledge was just out of reach. He turned to the warriors with a mental sigh.
Have you hacked the SwiftHoof's database? the first one snapped.
No use lying. They knew, anyway. Yes, he admitted. I have. he kept a stalk and a part of his mind focused on the code, trying to remember what it was.
What… is that what you have stolen? the second warrior said, waving a hand towards the screen, watching it with one stalk, the other circling. What is it, aristh?
It is an energy code, Aralgo explained. He peered at the warrior. Do you know what that is? Otherwise I can –
…but at that word he stopped speaking. It was as if his brain had a breakdown. Everything fell out of his mind – and into place.
The code.
He stared at it, all four eyes on the hologram, all four eyes wide, and for some reason holding his breath. His tail quivered behind him; his hands trembled.
Do you… know… what that is? he asked weakly. Do you know what this ship is hiding?
The warriors exchanged a glance. What are you talking about, aristh? the first one demanded, a stalk watching the hologram, both main eyes glaring at Aralgo.
Aralgo was unaware of the dangerous glint in those main eyes – he couldn't take his own off the code. But he finally tore them away, to stare at the warriors.
Of course. If the code… of course they would not agree. In fact, if… they would…
You had better come with us, aristh, the second warrior said lowly. Both their tails were raised.
The code was, unmistakably, the one for Kandrona energy.
Go with them?
Not a chance in seven universes! Aralgo cried, bursting into motion. But as soon as he did, the warriors did the same, advancing on him, moving like quicksilver. And however drenched his mind was in fear and however much the strength and speed of panic welled in his blood, a part of him still knew that an inexperienced aristh had no chance against two veteran warriors like those who stood before him.
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"Jake?" Rachel said as she sat down with the others to eat. Melissa had left, almost an hour earlier. "There's still one matter to settle."
Jake swallowed the chunk of Kelbird plant – at least, he thought it had been a plant – that he had been chewing and snatched some more ghy'yh before the last had been taken. "What?"
"About the Rachel," Rachel said. "I still think we should steal it back. It would certainly be worth the trouble. I mean, the Hawk and the other Kelbrid fighters are good, but with the Rachel…" she stopped speaking, but her wide grin said enough.
"Oh, bad idea, Fearless Leader," Marco said, shaking his head violently. "Do not – and I repeat; NOT – let Xena near any serious firepower. Especially when she doesn't see where she's aiming. There's bound to be accidents."
"In your case, intended accidents," Rachel added.
By now, they'll have moved it, Tobias pointed out.
"We can find it again," Jeanne countered, looking up from feeding Tom, who was lazily stretched out next to Rachel.
"It wouldn't be easy to take, even if we found it," Jake said. "We've been close to it once, when it wasn't properly guarded, but the second time around they'll be swarming around it. Of course it would be worth the effort, but even getting close would be taking a huge risk."
"A little challenge never hurt anyone," his cousin replied, shrugging.
"Weren't you the one who mentioned 'now or never'?" Jake wondered, for some reason snappish. "Because 'now' is gone, and that means 'never' is left."
"Jake, do you want our ship back or not?" Jeanne asked.
"Of course, it wouldn't hurt, but –"
"Then stop arguing against yourself."
"I'm not arguing against myself."
"Yes, you are," Jeanne said. "You claim to feel the same way we do about stealing the Rachel back, but you refuse to agree when we suggest going through with it."
Marco sighed. "If you're thinking it would blow our cover, it's a good thought but probably too late. Those two technicians… and all the guards we had to take care of… well, say what you like about the Yeerks, but they're not stupid enough to miss all that." He raised his eyebrows. "Though if they were, I wouldn't be complaining. You don't suppose –"
"Don't even think about it," Rachel warned. "It would ruin so much fun."
Marco grimaced. "Yeah, cause being chopped to a million pieces is exactly my idea of a great time."
"And speaking of time," Santorelli said, "if we want to do anything more on this planet we had better do it now. Or we'll have Yeerks all over us."
"Not to mention the Touched," Rachel added. "And Touched can be serious trouble. Believe me."
They all sent a glance at LuRi'il, who was quietly nibbling a piece of food, watching them, her green pupils gleaming in the centre of her black eyes.
"Then it's settled," Jake said. "First, we erase all traces we've been on this place and move camp."
"But then Melissa won't be able to find us!" Rachel objected.
"Just as well," Jake stated. "We'll find her if we need to. Secondly, we go back to our ship, and steal it, kicking some Yeerk – and Touched – butt while we're there. After that we send the Kelbrid home, and –"
"And LuRi'il?" Santorelli said.
"Don't interrupt me, Santorelli," Jake snapped.
"No, sir," Santorelli agreed, hiding a smile.
"Good point though," Jake continued, as if he had not even stopped speaking to begin with. "Rach?"
"They can't bring her to Cava'ara and the colony," Rachel reasoned. "And we can't leave her here."
"Then we have a problem," Jeanne sighed.
We knew that from the start, Tobias pointed out.
"We should have killed her to begin with," Menderash said in a low voice. "Save ourselves a lot of trouble."
Marco and Jake turned their gazes towards the former Andalite, who only stared back proudly.
"Hate to say it, but he's right," Marco muttered, looking away again. "If she's a threat alive, we've got no choice but to…" he made a face "…dispose of her."
Rachel gave a short nod and uttered a number of words in Kelbrid – something that sounded grim. JaLa'an's face grew stony, his horns raised the slightest bit, but Sira'aki only nodded in understanding. KEdi'ir didn't even look up.
LuRi'il straightened up where she was sitting and spoke. Again, Rachel nodded.
What did she say? Tobias asked.
"She said we will not need to blood our horns – it's an expression, but I think you get the picture. Give the word, Jake, and she'll take care of it herself. She wasn't expecting to live much longer anyway."
Jake looked up and noticed that the Touched was watching him. He had a feeling he'd better not move – in case the Kelbrid interpreted that wrongly.
Marco gave a laugh. "These Kelbird are insane!"
Rachel grinned. "They are, aren't they?"
Jake sighed uncomfortably and turned back to the group. "Look, LuRi'il is a problem for later. One thing at the time. First, we steal our ship back. We leave at nightfall, and that means we've got about five hours to clear this spot and cover some serious distance to find another one – which gives us about fifteen minutes of clearing and four hours forty-five of finding. Any questions?"
There were none. Rachel pased the orders on to the four Kelbird, but still no questions. Jake nodded, pleased, as he got to his feet. "Then let's get moving."
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Minalea seemed very fond of those bouncing leaps, Carali noted sourly as he followed her towards the aristh quarters. It was as if she couldn't decide if she wanted to go upwards or forwards.
They got where they wanted, in any case. And, fortunately, the very obvious leaping and bouncing had stopped by then.
As it turned out, Minalea actually could be discreet. She was the first to reach the aristh's corridor, and glanced past the turn with only a stalk – as they all had been strictly taught at the Academy, amazing that she'd managed to learn anything at all – before giving the signal for all-clear and stepping into the corridor, boldly but quietly.
Well then, she said, in private thought-speech, looking around curiously. Where do we start?
If I wanted to put cargo down here, I'd put it in the first possible room, Carali declared.
But if you wanted to hide it down here you'd put it as far in as possible, Minalea countered. So come on.
She trotted down the corridor on soundless hooves. Carali was slower, feeling the doors on his way past – and yes, they were all locked.
The two stopped by the last door. Carali quickly found that that one was locked as well, and was just as quick to point it out. Minalea only grinned.
For now, she corrected. Then began inspecting the lock. Two options. Do we want to leave it in one piece?
Preferably, Carali muttered.
Typical. Breaking them is so much fun. But… as you wish. she placed her small tail-blade in the barely visible crack between the lock-pad and the door, and using her hands to help she pried it free. Lucky for us this is the aristh's quarters – they only use glue. Bad quality glue, as well. Now if it had been the Captain's quarters… let's just say we'd have had a problem.
Smiling smugly, she stretched a hand into the hole in the wall where the lock-pad had been. After a moment's concentration her face lit up, and she twisted her entire arm.
The door opened. Minalea pulled her hand out again and gave Carali a triumphant I-told-you-so look, before pushing the lock-pad back into place. Then she entered the aristh's quarter… which was much larger than it should have been.
Carali followed her inside, for some reason with his tail raised. The wall between that room and the next had been roughly torn down – burned away by shredders, from the looks of it – and thereby the room was twice as large as it normally had been. But not less crowded; there was barely enough room for an Andalite to walk around, and then only by the walls. Maybe you could squeeze in two in each corner, but it was doubtful.
For in the centre of the room stood a cylindrical structure in dull metal. It was tall enough to barely reach up to Carali's back, had a control pad – primitive, with buttons, Carali noted – and was covered by what could only be described as a lid. The lid sat on large, heavy hinges.
What is this? Minalea wondered, stretching out a curious hand towards it.
Until we find out, don't touch it, Carali snapped, and Minalea yanked her hand away. Carali narrowed his eyes and peered at the strange object. Its details were hard to see; the room was in semi-darkness…
Did you hear that? Minalea said in private thought-speech, suddenly alert.
What?
Hooves. Someone's coming.
Might be the others… Carali began, looking up and inching his way back to the door.
No; the others would be sneaking, Minalea said. Those are definitely not the steps of someone who's sneaking… and from the sound, they're adults. Heavy steps.
Carali sharpened his ears, and – as Minalea had said – there were definitely Andalites approaching, coming along the corridor. How she'd made out that they were not sneaking – and were adults – was beyond him. But then again, someone who constantly broke rules probably had more experience listening for followers than someone orderly and serious – such as himself.
His first thought was to close the door, but then he realized that the sound and movement would draw attention directly to them. No; too late to close the door. And of course they couldn't leave the room, either.
Had to wait them out. Wait, and hope for the best.
I think I know what this is, Minalea said suddenly. When Carali had turned all eyes away, she had been quick to begin exploring the structure in the centre of the room again.
Minalea? Be quiet – you'll give us away.
Minalea only laughed. I'm using private thought-speech, you idiot. Don't worry about them.
Don't worry?! Are you aware that they are coming right at us?
I know. Calm down.
Carali glared at her. I am calm.
Certainly – and I am a two-headed djabala. Minalea rolled her stalks. We'll worry about them later. For now, help me with this lid, it's heavy. She was, obviously, trying to lift it.
Carali's eyes grew wide. I told you to leave that alone!
And since when do I take orders from you? She sighed, somehow sounding like an adult trying to be patient when in fact all patience had run out. Carali, we came here to figure out what was down here. This is what's down here – we should find out what it is. Are you going to help me or not?
Carali glared some more, but then took a place next to her and helped her struggle to open the lid. She was right; it was heavy.
He straightened again. Why not use the buttons? One of them probably opens it.
Yes, probably, but we don't know which one, do we? Or how much noise that would make, for that matter.
That pretty much took the fun out of Carali's brilliant idea. But with their combined efforts the lid finally opened; slowly. They pushed it further up, until it was standing on its hinges – and until it suddenly fell over in the other direction.
Fell, and hit the wall with a CLANG that was most likely loud enough to be heard on the bridge. Carali almost jumped out of his skin.
Minalea only grinned. Oops, she commented.
'Oops'?! Carali repeated. Oops?! That's the –
Oh, shut it.
Don't tell me what to do, or I'll – Carali did not finish his sentence. He had leapt to the doorway to look out, and the sight of the Andalites there made him quiet down.
Three Andalites had been in the corridor, and were on their way towards him, tails raised, galloping. A door was opening and another Andalite just came out – looking a bit woozy, the same expression as the one just outside another quarter was wearing as he turned towards them.
How many? Minalea wondered.
Five, Carali reported, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He and Minalea might get in serious trouble for this, but at least these were Andalites. Not Kelbrid or large golden beasts with dagger-like claws. And they don't look happy. Can you see what's in that thing? He himself was standing so the lid – that was leaning against the wall – was in the way.
Too dark, Minalea muttered.
Easily fixed, Carali said. Then, to the ship; Lights on.
The lights, obedient as always, flickered on. Minalea cast one look into the low cylinder and Carali could practically see the colour drench from her face.
Her formerly confident voice dropped to a frightened whisper. It is… a Yeerk pool.
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Author's Note;
I know, I know, I didn't tell you what happened to Estrid. You'll find out soon enough. As soon as I get the next chapter up… which might not be so soon, after all… time will tell. Until then, review this one. (please?)
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What Melissa wanted was quite simple, Marco had to admit. And probably more than worth what she would give in return. She was practically handing over the keys to not only the Blade Ship, but to all the secrets of the Yeerks, the Kelbrid – and anything she happened to know about the One.
And she knew the secrets of Touch.
It turned out the Yeerks had done some research on the subject, and found that Touch was simply the addition of a gene; a change in DNA. Firstly, it helped the One find his Chosen when they were far away. It made the pupils of them shine green, made it impossible fro them to go directly against the One's bidding – much as it was impossible to bend your elbow the wrong way – and added a very cruel reflex: as the thought of food could make someone's mouth water, the thought and action of displeasing the One caused pain, and if it went on long enough individual cells in muscles and organs would begin to tear themselves apart, ultimately leading to the Touched's death.
Melissa spoke of it in a very monotone voice, something dangerous glinting in the edge of her eyes, and Marco figured that she probably had first-hand experience of it all and considered the scientific approach to paint a very vague picture indeed.
But there was a way to get rid of it – and it was as simple as just morphing. Melissa was smiling as she explained that when a person first acquired the morphing power their DNA was stored away so that the body would always know what to demorph into. She asked Menderash to confirm that, something he grumpily did, and with a smug expression she continued by saying; "The rest is simple. The One adds a gene, and there's no medicine against it, no way to get rid of it… but if the person morphs and demorphs they will still demorph to their original DNA – without that extra gene. Of course, you have to be morphable before you become Touched. And if the One ever finds out, he'll banish morphing and things will get complicated."
Surprising everyone – maybe mostly herself – LuRi'il was the next to speak. Rachel had been passing on the main parts of the conversation to the Kelbird, including their prisoner.
"No'o leth ce'e kahe'i palh kilm U'uhn fe ce'e i'artesh kon'yt sehy pa'ani'h?" she whispered, but in a voice that made the others stop to listen, even though most of them did not understand a word. "Sehy yey. Sehy carf. Sehy myri'ith."
"'How can you hide from the One that you are no longer part of his network?'" Rachel translated. "'He sees, he hears, he knows.'" she frowned thoughtfully. "LuRi'il does have a point, Melissa. Doesn't the One get suspicious when you suddenly aren't reachable by mind?"
Melissa spat angrily at the ground beside her, and then stared straight at LuRi'il, eyes flashing. "She probably knows the answer to that one herself."
"Still," Jake said, a tinge of menace in his voice. "It's a good question. Answer it."
"I will," Melissa retorted and glared up at him. "The One only worries about the Chosen he can use for the moment. Us commoners aren't more important to him than those he kills. We are… expendable, and easily replaced. The ones who've freed themselves, including me, all act like we still need to obey him – the arrogant bastard – when he's near, and he's shown no signs of suspicion."
"The question isn't what he shows, but what he thinks," Marco muttered.
"Look, if he found out about this, he'd have all Chosen forbidden to morph and the ones who've freed themselves killed. If he'd suspected something, I wouldn't be here. At least not in one piece."
That sounded logical enough. In fact, all of Melissa's explanations sounded logical. So, Marco concluded, she was either telling the truth – or she was very good at improvising.
But lying or telling the truth, what she wanted in return was simple; a safe return back to Earth, away from everything Yeerk or Touched. All she wanted was to come with them when they left Dina'amm. And that was plain truth; her eyes shone with a blind eagerness – almost a desperation – that simply could not have been fake.
It was a reasonable demand. None of them found any reason to deny her that.
But the question remained – could Melissa be trusted? If they let her walk, she would do one two things; keep her end of the deal – or report them directly to the One.
Jake was doubtful. "It's a huge risk," he murmured, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know…"
Melissa shrugged. "So don't let me go. Fine. Wait until they start wondering where I am. Wait until they start suspecting my disappearance has something to do with those two dead technicians – and start searching the woods."
"That sounds a lot like a threat," Santorelli said, dark in the face as he watched Melissa.
Marco agreed, but kept quiet. Melissa was right, of course. They were already in a mess, having blown most of what cover they had, and ideas of remaining unnoticed were as good as gone.
"If you let me go, I can go back, make up a story and they'll suspect nothing," Melissa told them. "Officially, I'm still a Touched. So they would believe me if I told them the Blade ship was white – they'd think it came from the One, and immediately accept it." She made a wry face. "And I'm high enough in rank to silence any complainers. In fact, another promotion and I'd be able to check out my own fighter and leave… but the One hasn't promoted anyone since we arrived here, and no-one has the guts to do it for him."
"Well, Jake?" Jeanne said softly. "Decision time. Does she stay or go?"
Jake looked intently at Melissa. "How can we be sure you won't betray us?"
"I give you my word. Got nothing else to give, so…" she shrugged. "Best I can do. You're right when you said that I've changed, Jake… I'm aware of that. But Rachel's right as well. I won't break a deal."
Jake looked around. At the Kelbrid, who stared back intently with their black, white-pupilled eyes, giving no help whatsoever. At Menderash, who folded his gaze down, indicating that he did not consider it his decision – although the tightness in his expression clearly showed his opinion on the matter. At Jeanne, who shook her head slowly. And Santorelli, who said; "I don't know this girl – this Melissa. I'm not going to decide." Finally, Jake turned to Rachel.
Her opinion was clear. "I trust my friend, Jake. Do the same." It was – in classic Rachel style – more of an order than a suggestion.
Jake rubbed his temples. "Marco?"
Marco shrugged. "If we don't let her go they might come looking for us. If we let her go she might betray us so they come looking for us. Let me put it this way; I trust Yeerk suspicion more than I distrust Melissa."
Jake raised his eyebrows in confusion at Marco's riddle-like answer. He wasn't the only one.
"Marco? This is not supposed to be a guessing game," Jeanne said, annoyed. "Are you voting yes or no?"
Marco waved a dismissing hand and turned away. "I'm saying let her go," he muttered. "They'll be snapping at our heels whether she tells them to or not."
"So she walks," Rachel concluded, smiling at her friend. "And now you're back on our side, Mel. How does it feel?"
Melissa simply laughed. "It has to be better than the Yeerk side."
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Aralgo was bored. He stood keeping an eye on the computer, now and then changing the path of the transfer to avoid it being tracked – dull work.
An energy code. He was not entirely sure he remembered everything about them from his schooling, but he recalled enough. It was the pattern used energy particles travelled in – the pattern in which they struck a surface, to be exact – and it could be simple or complex, long or short. The energy code showed on screen was simply that pattern put into letters and digits.
There were a few major ones, that all Andalites reading any advanced technology had been told to memorize. The patterns for shredders and dracons were similar, and simple, and classics for quizzes. A few more difficult ones had appeared on tests and for assignments. For extra credit they could have learned any code for anything from solar energy to the energy used in escafil devices.
Dull work. Except for those who longed to see the pattern; those obsessed with it. Like Aralgo's teacher. He had almost drilled his students to death – from boredom, that is.
Aralgo shuddered as he remembered those long hours and turned his attention back to the loading of the silly code.
But the next time he changed the path of the transfer, the program Olana had designed detected a tracking. Aralgo felt a chill rush down his tail, and immediately made a copy of the transfer – just in time to see the trackers cancelling the first one.
He led the new transfer through path after path, making sure it was not tracked, and finally settled it where he thought it might be safe – at least safer. As long as it just loaded properly…
It was not long until he heard sounds from outside the Phantom. He leapt to the doorway, cast a look outside, and saw two warriors moving towards him, stalks angrily darting back and forth.
Of course. He had saved the download of that energy code Olana wanted so badly, but he'd still been tracked. The SwiftHoof's mechanics and pilots knew their database had been hacked, and they knew someone on the Phantom had done it. The warriors had been sent to deal with it.
He swivelled a stalk towards the computer, and sent it a command in thought- speech. Display file. On screen.
A hologram appeared, and on it came what had been loaded of the energy code, in digits and letters. As the code loaded, they changed, melted together or grew apart, all too quickly for the eye to follow; too quickly for it to be read properly.
Aristh! a warrior's voice barked from outside. Come out at once!
Aralgo stared at the hologram. The pattern was beginning to emerge; a pattern he recognized. The code was almost complete… just a few moments… just…
Come out! roared the warrior. When Aralgo stayed where he was, the two came into the Phantom.
The code was done. Aralgo read it through, once, twice; knowing he recognized it, knowing he knew what it was… but that spark of knowledge was just out of reach. He turned to the warriors with a mental sigh.
Have you hacked the SwiftHoof's database? the first one snapped.
No use lying. They knew, anyway. Yes, he admitted. I have. he kept a stalk and a part of his mind focused on the code, trying to remember what it was.
What… is that what you have stolen? the second warrior said, waving a hand towards the screen, watching it with one stalk, the other circling. What is it, aristh?
It is an energy code, Aralgo explained. He peered at the warrior. Do you know what that is? Otherwise I can –
…but at that word he stopped speaking. It was as if his brain had a breakdown. Everything fell out of his mind – and into place.
The code.
He stared at it, all four eyes on the hologram, all four eyes wide, and for some reason holding his breath. His tail quivered behind him; his hands trembled.
Do you… know… what that is? he asked weakly. Do you know what this ship is hiding?
The warriors exchanged a glance. What are you talking about, aristh? the first one demanded, a stalk watching the hologram, both main eyes glaring at Aralgo.
Aralgo was unaware of the dangerous glint in those main eyes – he couldn't take his own off the code. But he finally tore them away, to stare at the warriors.
Of course. If the code… of course they would not agree. In fact, if… they would…
You had better come with us, aristh, the second warrior said lowly. Both their tails were raised.
The code was, unmistakably, the one for Kandrona energy.
Go with them?
Not a chance in seven universes! Aralgo cried, bursting into motion. But as soon as he did, the warriors did the same, advancing on him, moving like quicksilver. And however drenched his mind was in fear and however much the strength and speed of panic welled in his blood, a part of him still knew that an inexperienced aristh had no chance against two veteran warriors like those who stood before him.
.
"Jake?" Rachel said as she sat down with the others to eat. Melissa had left, almost an hour earlier. "There's still one matter to settle."
Jake swallowed the chunk of Kelbird plant – at least, he thought it had been a plant – that he had been chewing and snatched some more ghy'yh before the last had been taken. "What?"
"About the Rachel," Rachel said. "I still think we should steal it back. It would certainly be worth the trouble. I mean, the Hawk and the other Kelbrid fighters are good, but with the Rachel…" she stopped speaking, but her wide grin said enough.
"Oh, bad idea, Fearless Leader," Marco said, shaking his head violently. "Do not – and I repeat; NOT – let Xena near any serious firepower. Especially when she doesn't see where she's aiming. There's bound to be accidents."
"In your case, intended accidents," Rachel added.
By now, they'll have moved it, Tobias pointed out.
"We can find it again," Jeanne countered, looking up from feeding Tom, who was lazily stretched out next to Rachel.
"It wouldn't be easy to take, even if we found it," Jake said. "We've been close to it once, when it wasn't properly guarded, but the second time around they'll be swarming around it. Of course it would be worth the effort, but even getting close would be taking a huge risk."
"A little challenge never hurt anyone," his cousin replied, shrugging.
"Weren't you the one who mentioned 'now or never'?" Jake wondered, for some reason snappish. "Because 'now' is gone, and that means 'never' is left."
"Jake, do you want our ship back or not?" Jeanne asked.
"Of course, it wouldn't hurt, but –"
"Then stop arguing against yourself."
"I'm not arguing against myself."
"Yes, you are," Jeanne said. "You claim to feel the same way we do about stealing the Rachel back, but you refuse to agree when we suggest going through with it."
Marco sighed. "If you're thinking it would blow our cover, it's a good thought but probably too late. Those two technicians… and all the guards we had to take care of… well, say what you like about the Yeerks, but they're not stupid enough to miss all that." He raised his eyebrows. "Though if they were, I wouldn't be complaining. You don't suppose –"
"Don't even think about it," Rachel warned. "It would ruin so much fun."
Marco grimaced. "Yeah, cause being chopped to a million pieces is exactly my idea of a great time."
"And speaking of time," Santorelli said, "if we want to do anything more on this planet we had better do it now. Or we'll have Yeerks all over us."
"Not to mention the Touched," Rachel added. "And Touched can be serious trouble. Believe me."
They all sent a glance at LuRi'il, who was quietly nibbling a piece of food, watching them, her green pupils gleaming in the centre of her black eyes.
"Then it's settled," Jake said. "First, we erase all traces we've been on this place and move camp."
"But then Melissa won't be able to find us!" Rachel objected.
"Just as well," Jake stated. "We'll find her if we need to. Secondly, we go back to our ship, and steal it, kicking some Yeerk – and Touched – butt while we're there. After that we send the Kelbrid home, and –"
"And LuRi'il?" Santorelli said.
"Don't interrupt me, Santorelli," Jake snapped.
"No, sir," Santorelli agreed, hiding a smile.
"Good point though," Jake continued, as if he had not even stopped speaking to begin with. "Rach?"
"They can't bring her to Cava'ara and the colony," Rachel reasoned. "And we can't leave her here."
"Then we have a problem," Jeanne sighed.
We knew that from the start, Tobias pointed out.
"We should have killed her to begin with," Menderash said in a low voice. "Save ourselves a lot of trouble."
Marco and Jake turned their gazes towards the former Andalite, who only stared back proudly.
"Hate to say it, but he's right," Marco muttered, looking away again. "If she's a threat alive, we've got no choice but to…" he made a face "…dispose of her."
Rachel gave a short nod and uttered a number of words in Kelbrid – something that sounded grim. JaLa'an's face grew stony, his horns raised the slightest bit, but Sira'aki only nodded in understanding. KEdi'ir didn't even look up.
LuRi'il straightened up where she was sitting and spoke. Again, Rachel nodded.
What did she say? Tobias asked.
"She said we will not need to blood our horns – it's an expression, but I think you get the picture. Give the word, Jake, and she'll take care of it herself. She wasn't expecting to live much longer anyway."
Jake looked up and noticed that the Touched was watching him. He had a feeling he'd better not move – in case the Kelbrid interpreted that wrongly.
Marco gave a laugh. "These Kelbird are insane!"
Rachel grinned. "They are, aren't they?"
Jake sighed uncomfortably and turned back to the group. "Look, LuRi'il is a problem for later. One thing at the time. First, we steal our ship back. We leave at nightfall, and that means we've got about five hours to clear this spot and cover some serious distance to find another one – which gives us about fifteen minutes of clearing and four hours forty-five of finding. Any questions?"
There were none. Rachel pased the orders on to the four Kelbird, but still no questions. Jake nodded, pleased, as he got to his feet. "Then let's get moving."
.
Minalea seemed very fond of those bouncing leaps, Carali noted sourly as he followed her towards the aristh quarters. It was as if she couldn't decide if she wanted to go upwards or forwards.
They got where they wanted, in any case. And, fortunately, the very obvious leaping and bouncing had stopped by then.
As it turned out, Minalea actually could be discreet. She was the first to reach the aristh's corridor, and glanced past the turn with only a stalk – as they all had been strictly taught at the Academy, amazing that she'd managed to learn anything at all – before giving the signal for all-clear and stepping into the corridor, boldly but quietly.
Well then, she said, in private thought-speech, looking around curiously. Where do we start?
If I wanted to put cargo down here, I'd put it in the first possible room, Carali declared.
But if you wanted to hide it down here you'd put it as far in as possible, Minalea countered. So come on.
She trotted down the corridor on soundless hooves. Carali was slower, feeling the doors on his way past – and yes, they were all locked.
The two stopped by the last door. Carali quickly found that that one was locked as well, and was just as quick to point it out. Minalea only grinned.
For now, she corrected. Then began inspecting the lock. Two options. Do we want to leave it in one piece?
Preferably, Carali muttered.
Typical. Breaking them is so much fun. But… as you wish. she placed her small tail-blade in the barely visible crack between the lock-pad and the door, and using her hands to help she pried it free. Lucky for us this is the aristh's quarters – they only use glue. Bad quality glue, as well. Now if it had been the Captain's quarters… let's just say we'd have had a problem.
Smiling smugly, she stretched a hand into the hole in the wall where the lock-pad had been. After a moment's concentration her face lit up, and she twisted her entire arm.
The door opened. Minalea pulled her hand out again and gave Carali a triumphant I-told-you-so look, before pushing the lock-pad back into place. Then she entered the aristh's quarter… which was much larger than it should have been.
Carali followed her inside, for some reason with his tail raised. The wall between that room and the next had been roughly torn down – burned away by shredders, from the looks of it – and thereby the room was twice as large as it normally had been. But not less crowded; there was barely enough room for an Andalite to walk around, and then only by the walls. Maybe you could squeeze in two in each corner, but it was doubtful.
For in the centre of the room stood a cylindrical structure in dull metal. It was tall enough to barely reach up to Carali's back, had a control pad – primitive, with buttons, Carali noted – and was covered by what could only be described as a lid. The lid sat on large, heavy hinges.
What is this? Minalea wondered, stretching out a curious hand towards it.
Until we find out, don't touch it, Carali snapped, and Minalea yanked her hand away. Carali narrowed his eyes and peered at the strange object. Its details were hard to see; the room was in semi-darkness…
Did you hear that? Minalea said in private thought-speech, suddenly alert.
What?
Hooves. Someone's coming.
Might be the others… Carali began, looking up and inching his way back to the door.
No; the others would be sneaking, Minalea said. Those are definitely not the steps of someone who's sneaking… and from the sound, they're adults. Heavy steps.
Carali sharpened his ears, and – as Minalea had said – there were definitely Andalites approaching, coming along the corridor. How she'd made out that they were not sneaking – and were adults – was beyond him. But then again, someone who constantly broke rules probably had more experience listening for followers than someone orderly and serious – such as himself.
His first thought was to close the door, but then he realized that the sound and movement would draw attention directly to them. No; too late to close the door. And of course they couldn't leave the room, either.
Had to wait them out. Wait, and hope for the best.
I think I know what this is, Minalea said suddenly. When Carali had turned all eyes away, she had been quick to begin exploring the structure in the centre of the room again.
Minalea? Be quiet – you'll give us away.
Minalea only laughed. I'm using private thought-speech, you idiot. Don't worry about them.
Don't worry?! Are you aware that they are coming right at us?
I know. Calm down.
Carali glared at her. I am calm.
Certainly – and I am a two-headed djabala. Minalea rolled her stalks. We'll worry about them later. For now, help me with this lid, it's heavy. She was, obviously, trying to lift it.
Carali's eyes grew wide. I told you to leave that alone!
And since when do I take orders from you? She sighed, somehow sounding like an adult trying to be patient when in fact all patience had run out. Carali, we came here to figure out what was down here. This is what's down here – we should find out what it is. Are you going to help me or not?
Carali glared some more, but then took a place next to her and helped her struggle to open the lid. She was right; it was heavy.
He straightened again. Why not use the buttons? One of them probably opens it.
Yes, probably, but we don't know which one, do we? Or how much noise that would make, for that matter.
That pretty much took the fun out of Carali's brilliant idea. But with their combined efforts the lid finally opened; slowly. They pushed it further up, until it was standing on its hinges – and until it suddenly fell over in the other direction.
Fell, and hit the wall with a CLANG that was most likely loud enough to be heard on the bridge. Carali almost jumped out of his skin.
Minalea only grinned. Oops, she commented.
'Oops'?! Carali repeated. Oops?! That's the –
Oh, shut it.
Don't tell me what to do, or I'll – Carali did not finish his sentence. He had leapt to the doorway to look out, and the sight of the Andalites there made him quiet down.
Three Andalites had been in the corridor, and were on their way towards him, tails raised, galloping. A door was opening and another Andalite just came out – looking a bit woozy, the same expression as the one just outside another quarter was wearing as he turned towards them.
How many? Minalea wondered.
Five, Carali reported, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He and Minalea might get in serious trouble for this, but at least these were Andalites. Not Kelbrid or large golden beasts with dagger-like claws. And they don't look happy. Can you see what's in that thing? He himself was standing so the lid – that was leaning against the wall – was in the way.
Too dark, Minalea muttered.
Easily fixed, Carali said. Then, to the ship; Lights on.
The lights, obedient as always, flickered on. Minalea cast one look into the low cylinder and Carali could practically see the colour drench from her face.
Her formerly confident voice dropped to a frightened whisper. It is… a Yeerk pool.
.
.
.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
I know, I know, I didn't tell you what happened to Estrid. You'll find out soon enough. As soon as I get the next chapter up… which might not be so soon, after all… time will tell. Until then, review this one. (please?)