The Mistake

Chapter 7

Erika knew I cared for Tobias. She'd been sympathetic, supportive. She'd refused to let me be miserable about him, but she'd understood why I might be.

The Yeerk wasn't like that. It did not care about me or about Tobias. It had, through Erika's eyes, seen me go into the school. It had assumed I had been infested. Now it was confronted by "me" worried about what had happened to some insignificant human. It had been caught by surprise. And it had slipped up.

"Well," said Uric with my mouth, "we have nothing planned, do we?"

He meant that the Yeerks had no immediate plans. He was trying to tell the Yeerk in my friend's head that, yes, the infestation had happened as planned, without blurting it out loud to a street full of people. Maybe I imagined it, but a flicker in Erika's eyes told me her Yeerk had understood.

The real Erika would have wanted to help, so the Yeerk had no choice but to go along or risk blowing its disguise. But my heart was not in it any more. Erika was a slave. So was I, and no one had noticed. How many more people might have Yeerks in their heads? My mum? My brother? Tobias?

(Why are you doing this?) I asked Uric. (What do you want with us?)

(We don't want to be blind any more,) he replied simply.

There was one problem with the search. I didn't have the blindest idea where to start. We posed the query to Erika.

"The police station would seem sensible," she suggested.

So that was where we went. The two of us, passengers; and the Yeerks, the drivers. What if the cops were… had Yeerks in their heads?

(Controllers,) advised Uric. (The term for a creature that has been infested is a Controller.)

(Oh,) I said shortly. I still wasn't happy with him rummaging around in my head.

We quickly spotted the blue-and-white lamp of the station. "That case has been put on standby," said the cop at the desk when we asked him.

"What?"

"It's been put on standby," he repeated, closing the file in which he'd found that information.

"But why?"

"We can't just go giving out information to anybody who asks," said the guy, shaking his head.

"But he's my friend! You can't just give up! You must have some idea where he is!"

Uric did a pretty good 'me' impression, I had to admit.

"I'm afraid not. Sorry." The cop looked genuinely regretful.

So that was a dead end. We and Erika left, the latter politely thanking the guy for his trouble, the former giving an Oscar-winning performance of a teenage girl in distress. Yeerks sure are good actors. I guess they have to be.

Everything we tried led to a blind alley that morning. At about twelve, Erika peeled off gratefully to go home, and we, too, trudged off back to my house for lunch. The afternoon was taken up by homework. There were some advantages to being a Controller, I reflected: for example, I had always struggled with Maths, but Uric sped through it like Einstein on pep pills. Other things, like History and Geography, he had more trouble with: I guessed that he hadn't really bothered to learn anything about Earth before landing here. He had to get by on what he could drudge from my knowledge, and I had never been exactly studious.

The next day was Sunday. Church felt strange when I couldn't sing the hymns: Uric belted them out for me, but it wasn't the same. It felt almost blasphemous to be bringing a body-stealing alien into a church.

(Why is that?) Uric asked me privately during the sermon. (Is it against your laws?)

(No,) I said, not bothering to scold him for reading my thoughts. (It's just… it doesn't feel right. I don't know if… it would be approved of.)

(Is this God your commander, then?)

(No... Well, yes. Sort of. He's the Lord, you see. Made everything, and stuff. But it's hard to explain. He's not from Earth.)

(He is an alien to you?)

(No. Well… no. He's not from anywhere, really. But he… I don't know. It's hard to explain.)

Yes, that's me. Joan the philosopher.

Our schedule for the afternoon: more homework. The teachers don't half pile it on you in our year. Time for a bit of reading, some messing around on the computer, then shower and bed.

And then it was Monday. The third day since the Sharing meeting. Three whole days? Had it really been that long? It seemed to have flown past, and I found I had almost gotten used to Uric, not bothering to react to things, knowing it would have no effect on what he did.

I was trying not to think about it.

(I will have to feed tonight,) Uric told me as he brushed my hair that morning.

(We ate breakfast just this morning,) I replied in confusion.

(No, I mean me as in myself, separately,) said Uric. (Every three days a Yeerk must swim in the pool to soak up Kandrona rays – those are artificial imitations of the rays of the sun on our home world.)

(Swim in the pool?) I repeated.

(Yes. Like the tank you saw before, but far, far larger.)

(I don't swim very well,) I warned him. (I took lessons a while back, but—)

(Joan,) Uric interrupted, pausing as he tied my shoelaces. (You won't be swimming. I will. I'll have to leave your body.)

(You'll what?) It was the only thing I could think of to say. I didn't know what to think. Should I be glad? Laughing? Scared?

(It won't be permanent,) Uric cut through my bewilderment. (Only for… well, I don't know how long it will take. But it will not be for more than an hour or so, if that.)

An hour or more of freedom. Of independence. Of self-control and responsibility. Of isolation.

(When?) I asked shakily, wondering if this was really true.

(Tonight. Seven o' clock.)