A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter took so long: I wanted to make sure it was really good, seeing as it's kind of pivotal and stuff. But I swear to you now, the only thing that can make another chapter take this long is an all-out ban from the computer... and even then I'll go and kick our school computers until they figure out how to upload stuff. So have no fear! And enjoy this chapter.

Oh, by the way, fanfiction-dot-net is being stupid and won't let me use chevrons. So, until fanfiction-dot-net works out how to tell the difference between HTML and thought-speech, the latter might be a little messed up. I think I can get it to work, though. It'll just go like (this) instead of the right way.

I also want to say that Araeph is the greatest beta ever. That is all. (grins)

Oh, yeah, and this chapter has been edited for continuity reasons. Just mentioning it so that people re-reading don't think they're going mad. (wink)

The Mistake

Chapter 4

Slugs.

Hundreds of huge, green-brown slugs, swimming in a viscous brown liquid. Whirling around like maggots, horrible squat shapes, coming into focus as they pressed against the glass or slid above the surface like so many midget, slimy, mud-colored dolphins.

I stared, disgusted. I don't mind snails and worms and things, but those fat, greenish slugs sickened me.

"What is that!"

Chapman knelt down beside the tank. "They're not dangerous, look." He stuck his hand into the seething, dirty mess without even a shudder. "They're harmless. But they're what you'll need if you're to become a full member."

"What, you want me to touch one? It's a courage test?" I stood up gingerly. That wouldn't be so bad. Probably.

I thought I had guessed right at first, as Chapman cupped his hands and one of the slugs – I swear this is true – swam into them, while the rest coiled and dived about a half-inch away. He lifted the thing up and brought it over for me to see closely.

It was certainly like no slug I'd ever seen before. It was mottled, with little fins for swimming and antennae that waved about blindly, the little bulges on the end pulsating. Though Chapman carried it in both hands, it would easily have fit into one, with room left over for five more.

"So I have to touch it?" I said again, staring at the slug with a grimace.

"In a manner of speaking," said Chapman. "You just have to trust me." He lifted the slug up to my head.

"Hey, hey!" I objected. "You're not putting that in my hair. Um, sir."

"No, not in your hair. This might feel a little strange…"

The slug touched my ear.

"Oh, yuck!" I jerked my head away, wiping my earlobe with my finger. "Do we have to do this?"

Chapman looked at me. "If you want, we can stop. You only have to say, and you can go outside, even go home if you want. And Tobias will stay missing. Maybe even die. And you'll never see each other again."

"Don't," I told Chapman, and the word came out louder than I meant it to. I rubbed my eyes furiously. "Okay, I'll do it. For Tobias."

He smiled at me and patted my shoulder. "You're very brave. A good friend."

And he put the slug to my ear again.

I felt it squirming around, felt the tickle as its antennae searched.

For Tobias. I heard a loud squelching noise as it flattened itself out, squeezed into my ear like putty.

For Tobias. A sudden stabbing pain, quickly dulled to an ache; I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.

For Tobias. My legs gave way and Chapman guided me back to the chair. My head felt cold and full of cotton wool. I didn't want to do this any more. This was beyond creepy. I wanted out. But the thought was snatched away in a jumble of random memories and emotions, like you get when you have a fever. What was happening?

I could no longer feel the thing in my ear. Had Chapman pulled it out? Was it over?

There was someone there. Not Chapman – someone else. Someone very close, though I couldn't see him. No, of course: my eyes were closed. Was he behind me? I tried to turn around. Couldn't. Was someone holding me?

My eyes opened. I hadn't decided to –

"Sight!" gasped a voice. It was mine. "Color! I never realized it was so beautiful!"

I had said… something strange. But I'd never chosen to speak.

(What's happening?) I screamed. My mouth didn't open, nor did my tongue move. The only sound was a crystal-clear thought in my head. (Help! Help! What's happening!)

(Hello… Joan,) said another soundless voice. My mind was opened like a book and rifled through, things I knew surfacing for inspection by the disembodied voice in my head. (Hello, human.)

(Who… what…)

(My name is Uric four-three-seven-one,) it told me. (You are my first host, except for my training. Is it not wonderful?)

I didn't answer. Couldn't. I was numb with shock. What was this thing? How had it gotten into me?

(You let me in, of course.)

It could read my thoughts?

(Yes.)

(You were the slug?) It made me feel sick – or, no, it didn't. I didn't even control my body's reactions any more.

(Not a slug. A Yeerk. It is the name of our race.)

(There's a whole race of you?)

Chapman's voice interrupted the conversation. "How is it, Uric? Not making friends in there, I hope?"

I wanted to scream out that this was no joking matter, that there was a Yeerk slug in my head, controlling me! But of course, I couldn't.

"It is wonderful," I – no, Uric – well, both of us, sort of – said. "The sense of sight! The strength and balance! Much better than a Gedd. Thank you for this opportunity."

"Use it well," Chapman told him. He pulled a black duffel bag from behind the tank and unzipped it to reveal a tangle of silvery guns, and held one of them out. Despite my horrified protests, my arm extended, my fingers curled around the weapon, and my hand hid it under my coat.

"May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you," Uric said, standing and bowing with my body. It sounded like a ritual.

He read my thoughts. (Yes, your Chapman human is also a host.)

"May the—" Chapman -- or, at least, the thing in his head -- began, but he was interrupted by a loud, mournful howl. It started as a kind of high-pitched yelp, strengthening into a full-blooded, deep-throated baying. Three more voices joined it.

Wolves!

What were wolves doing here? Didn't they try to avoid humans?

Uric had an answer to that. He snapped the word out, with so much hatred and contempt that it scared me. "Andalites!"

Chapman had gone pale. "Help me," he ordered, pulling a key from his pocket, unlocking the door and throwing the cloth back onto the tank of Yeerks. I wanted to run, but Uric walked my body over to the tank and bent it at the knees, shoving my fingers underneath it, ready to lift. After throwing the bag over his shoulder, Chapman did the same, and together we hauled the heavy glass container out of the door, the filthy water lapping at the edges and making the fabric of the cover damp.

We went up the corridor, not back the way I had come, but through the school till we stopped outside the janitor's closet. Chapman and Uric lowered the tank to the floor, Chapman opened the door, and then he picked it up himself and backed into the cupboard. "Go outside," he commanded, the strain clear in his voice. "Go outside and… and this never happened." He kicked the door closed.

Uric turned my body around and hurried towards the main doors; neither of us had any wish to face the wolf pack in the quad. He was afraid. I was just plain confused. (What is an Andalite?) I asked him.

(Filthy creatures. Scourges of the universe.) Uric's thought was again full of revulsion. (They look like…) He searched my mind, trying to find a comparison. (Like centaurs. Blue centaurs, with wicked, bladed tails which they use for slaughter. They would kill us all, or else send us back to the pools to be blind and helpless all our lives. They have the power to transform into animals; hence the wolves.)

(But Erika's in the quad!)

(Erika? Oh, your friend.) Uric shook my head. (If she has the sense to keep quiet, they might not hurt her.)

That wasn't much comfort.

Uric was running now, the main doors just ahead. We burst through them, and came face-to-face with the snarling, ravening jaws of a large, grey wolf.