Notes:
--Finally some information on my actual little "Hybrid Project." O.o;; Sorry it took so long to finally show it, but…yeah. ._.;;
Chapter 6
Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill
By Aura Kage
Humans, with all their awkwardness and strangeness and "humor," were truly beings to respect. Though their construction seemed flimsy, ready to fall at the first beam of Dracon fire (not that they were in any danger of Yeerks, of course), the "mall" was alive and seething with many humans walking in and out, having private conversations with themselves. There were several lazing about outside of the mall, however, and these seemed "dark" in an odd, unexplained way, sticking long white cylinders in their mouths and breathing smoke. In this I found no logical reason, but then, humans did not seem to be a very logical species.
But then I walked in.
The smells! The lights! The people! Everywhere, blazing neon tubes shaped into words – Mongolian Grill, Sbarro, McDonalds. Everywhere, tables and counters propped to accommodate humans in their strange activity called "sitting," which required one to bend the legs and rest the hindquarters down on a padded seat. Everywhere, people consuming brightly colored food that smelled…very good.
As if I had some paranormal sense of location, I spotted the morphed Andalites immediately, busy stuffing a bizarre, thick circle dripping with a sort of grainy brownish goo. White foam was dripping wetly from the circle as well.
And gazes of humans seemed to shift on them for only a second, as if afraid to stare, before walking away either giving largely proud looks or ill-concealed snickers.
I approached cautiously, wondering if I should feign to be another high-ranking Andalite instead of lowly decol Ankulei. In the end, I settled upon being myself and making up an excuse on why I was on Earth…though it would be something along the line of humans, morphing, and research for Fradulan.
The Andalite looked up at me with wide, wild eyes, mouth enameled with the shiny brown goop as he shamelessly slurped the end of his drippy food. "Ah! An Andalite?"
"Yes," I said, refraining from playing with the noises, as I felt I knew who this Andalite was. "I am Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill."
"The decol," the Andalite-in-morph said knowingly, his lips dripping with the goo. He noisily slurped it up, his face contorting in what was sure to be human ecstasy. "I am veteran Captain-Prince Cosolran-Semitur-Juran, and this is my family. My wife, Jasalra-Semitur-Juran, and my children, Ilim and Ximilar. Ahhh, decol Ankulei – you must try this! It is a human creation that they call a 'cinnamon bun.' Here, you may take one of ours…"
The morphed Captain-Prince Cosolran lifted one of the foam-caked swirls and dropped it into my cupped hands, then immediately licked his fingers. I pulled out a chair for myself with my sticky hands and eyed the gleaming object distastefully, then slowly brought it to my human mouth.
I almost reeled with the suddenness of the swirly-item's effect. Oh! Oh! I was shocked and stared at the bitten swirly-thing in my hands. Electrifying my tongue, the brown goop so very…sweet! The texture of the thick white foam on my tongue! The depth! The newness! The…TASTE!
I quickly devoured it, eyes wide with excitement. No other creature I had morphed had a sense of taste – or, at least, it was too insignificant for them to notice. Perhaps once or twice I had felt the warmth of fresh-killed meat, or the coolness of water against my parched throat, but…oh! This was so much different! So new! As if I had never known color, had never known sight at all, and one day some great one had come and opened my eyes!
It was impossible, and yet it was happening! It was…it was…indefinite heaven. I could hardly believe it. And yet – and yet –
I took another cinnamon bun, remembering my manners belatedly and looking to the veteran Captain-Prince to see what he thought of my theft – but he was too busy shoveling other human food items into his mouth: these long, golden, semi-rectangular things coated with diminutive glimmering white specks. I smiled unconsciously at the cinnamon bun and devoured it greedily, feeling its juices creep from my mouth and slither sluggishly down my cheek and neck.
Oh! It was beyond me why humans would not spend their whole day indulging in their sweet-tasting creations. Why they valued their poor technology over the wonderfulness of a cinnamon bun. Oh! They were so strange, to pass up such an astonishing experience! So ignorant of what was already in their natural possession!
I took another cinnamon bun, and another, and another. I lost perception of all time, was blind and deaf to anything except what was before me…
Until someone prodded my shoulder with a finger.
"Yo, Andalite," said a gruff voice behind me. I turned in shock, mouth agape, and the male middle-aged human chuckled at me. "Sorry to say, but we're closing now, dude. You need to get out of here."
"You will take away the delicious cinnamon buns? Zuh?"
"Uh, well, yeah. Duh," the male added as if on afterthought, a mouth-sound that was used to express a much shorter form of: "You must be an idiot if you do not know this."
"Where can I find more?" I asked desperately as he pushed me off of the table. I noticed that Cosolran and his family had already departed, and felt my human face flush with embarrassment – a temporary emotion-induced redness that stained the cheeks when a human was humiliated, angry, or experiencing similar feelings. I was quite proud of my life sciences and study of other species, though at the moment knowing that my physical reactions were so fragile made me feel unbalanced.
"Uh, I dunno," the male said, shrugging and pushing me further away, towards the large black-framed glass doors. "Maybe you can go over to Krispy Kreme Donuts – they're open twenty four-seven, so you don't need to worry about closing time."
"Where is this Kris –"
"A few blocks or so from Merisdel street," the guy explained, waving a hand at me impatiently. "You better go – the manger won't be very happy if you're still in here after closing."
I turned and quickly left at that, not wishing to invoke a human's anger and perhaps endanger the future possibility of retaining more cinnamon buns from this place, and walked into the cool night air of outside. The night was a very dark, very…final black, tinted with the gold-orange light of electrical lights hanging from tall poles. I walked forward, lost, unable to find this "Merisdel." Nor, I realized, did I know what kind of measurement was equivalent to a "block."
Horrible. I was lost on a human world, in a human body.
No, not lost! What was I thinking? I was just in a human morph – I could always morph back to Andalite and then into a creature more capable of traveling in a nocturnal environment.
The idea sent me into sudden shock. How long had I been in morph?!
I had lost track of time in my blissful consumption! I quickly ran towards a small isle between two restaurants that could ensure my privacy (though humans seemed to not be fazed by me, I still wanted to keep the guise that I was a human to prevent arousing unwanted attentions), already focusing on my original body –
"Hey. Hey, you."
I turned, eyes wide, noting vaguely the quicker pulsing of my single heart and as my endocrine system released adrenaline, the chemical humans released when under any periods of stress. I hadn't known that there had been humans "hanging" in the alleyway as well. I looked down, assessed myself. Good. Still none of me had yet changed…but I would have to hurry and either ask the humans or leave or vacate myself. Consequently, the "fight or flight" stage of stress began to surface, and – being Andalite first and foremost before any other forms – I chose the latter.
"I am sorry. Reee," I said, unable to avoid playing with the mouth-sounds on my tongue. "I am an Andalite in morph. I did not know that you had already occupied –"
"Andalite, huh?" the voice said with a surprising amount of contempt. I felt some movement behind me, and cursed the fact that I had no rear vision as two humans harshly grabbed both my arms, crossing them behind me and rendering me helpless. Oh, that I had some rear vision; my human arms may have been strong, but certainly not as powerful as the arms of the ones behind me. I glanced backward to sight my captors, and saw only black on black, with a numerous array of blue and green lines. The humans had, apparently, donned themselves in artificial skin that covered up most of their true skin in an effort to camouflage.
A transport vehicle purred from somewhere farther behind, headlights beaming and then dimming to utter darkness, and paused its movement just before the alleyway.
I knew even before that vehicle drove up that I was trapped.
The human that had spoken before stepped forward, only slightly seen from the soft glow from both human restaurants on either side. He motioned for my captors to release me, and release me they did, letting me collapse to the grimy asphalt floor. The leader helped me up good-naturedly, though somehow a sinister air played about every movement, and I felt the almost clammy warmth of the wool artificial wearing on his hand. His other hand held a box, of which was labeled Krispy Kreme Donuts.
The donuts that the human at the mall had told me about!
"You want these?" the human asked, waving the box in my face. I considered. I needed to demorph, and immediately.
"No thank you," I said politely. "The offer is very appealing, but I am afraid I must demorph now or risk being trapped in human morph forever."
"Is that so?" the human inquired, though somehow the his tone was not that one of a question. He looked back at his fellows, his eyes darting behind the holes in the ersatz-skin garment he was wearing on his head, and they came up behind me and shoved me forward. I gave a cry as I again landed on the ground, and felt a rain of kicks from all directions, crushing my feeble frame. I yelped and curled into a little ball, ignoring the trash and other wastes that were clinging to my exposed skin.
"What, humans aren't good enough for you?" the leader asked, throwing the box behind him. It landed with a hollow thunk, which signaled to be that it had been empty. His offer had been as untrustworthy as he had been.
"No!" I assured quickly, unrolling myself and backing away, thoughts evading the sharp pain that lanced up my arms and back and stomach and legs. "That was not what I implied when I said I wished to demorph, and I am sorry if I caused you offense. I merely wish to return to my true form so –"
"So you can go back to all your other Andalite friends and all celebrate about how all us humans are so stupid?" the human continued for me, spitting on my leg, a sign of great human loathing. "Nuh-uh. You might get away from us alive, Andalite…but it won't be as an Andalite."
They all laughed, the same sound that the human "George" had emitted earlier, though with a cruel timbre. I struggled to my human feet, arms braced against the wall to help me keep my balance.
"This is not fair," I said in a trembling voice, knowing what they had meant by their threat and knowing perfectly that they would carry it out. I stepped forward, putting out my strong human arms and preparing to push the man over with it. But he was more experienced with the body than I was – of course – and he merely pushed me back on the ground, pulling out a human contraption that served as a weapon. The primitive Andalite shredder – a gun.
In this body – in most of the bodies I possessed, actually – the bullet shot from that barrel would kill me. I froze, and his fellows pulled guns and pointed them at me as well.
"Freeze," the leader said icily. "You're not moving from that spot until we count up two hours."
"Please let me demorph!" I cried, anguished, knowing that already my minutes were counting down. The leader smiled – the slight crinkling of his eyes were proof of that, though I was not able to see his mouth through the mask.
I quivered, the idea of being a human finally taking its effect on me. Humans were fine, yes – but Andalite was my life. Andalite was who I was. And if I were a nothlit, then I would no longer be able to do my work – no longer to zip incognito in personal Andalite ships as a surujuli, no longer soaring through the skies as a kafit bird.
It would be risky, my plan how to get out of this, and I was unsure of what the humans' reactions would be – shoot, or run away screaming? I had not yet studied humans sufficiently enough to estimate what number of them would succumb to the "fight" or "flight" of their stress-management sequence. But either way, I would be free…either in death or liberation.
I focused, felt the DNA rising to my command, and mentally pulled apart the strands of its making and attached them to myself. My shoulder blades began to ache, as if they had been under a great pressured for days, and I felt my skin break numbly and my shoulder blades elongate into immense wings, the leotard that I was wearing torn by the sharp blade-like wingtip. The wing-frame continued to grow at my bidding, to its full size, and then the tiny weak claws emerged and flexed, sharp little points gleaming. More bones erupted from that point, like rapidly forming stalactites, and the thin, semitransparent mud-hued membrane stretched and filled in those gaps. I watched the expression on the humans' face, waiting for their verdict, as my other wing emerged much in the same way. If this didn't work the way I hoped…
However, my crude thesis had been correct. The humans stared, wide-mouthed at my transformation, and I groaned – a sound that sounded much like a growl in my re-forming throat and vocal chords. My throat bulged, my eyes multiplied, my hands grew fatter and thick-clawed –
A gunshot thundered, making the very air vibrate. I shuddered and waited, preparing myself for the pain that would come – but none did. I opened an eye, and saw that the humans were taking off running, jumping into the transport vehicle and driving off with wild cries.
I allowed myself to exhale, just now realizing that I hadn't been breathing, and quickly reversed both morphs, focusing on Andalite. Hoping I wasn't too late.
Andalite, Andalite, Andalite, I chanted, eyes closed in concentration. Please, please…Andalite, Andalite!
I felt the changes coming. Yes! For once, I didn't bother with making the morph pretty – hooves bulged from brown-tan mass, wings shriveled, my tail slithered from my back end like a dying blade-headed snake, and everything turned a clear azure.
Then, no changes. I opened one eye, almost afraid, and stretched my arms out before me.
Andalite arms. Blue-furred, seven-fingers, delicate.
I almost pranced for joy.
And then I saw the dark-skinned human before me, the last trace of what looked to be feathers on her skin melting away to supple smoothness. She had her hands on her hips and was giving me a deadly look that held the slightest mark of fear and astonishment.
"Alright," she said in a firm voice. "Just who – and what – are you?"
She never received her answer – the stress of over-morphing had taken its vengeful toll, and I fell over, unconscious before I hit the ill-tended ground.
~
When I next awakened, my first thought was shock – shock and fear and wonder and confusion, an incoherent array of all my emotions fisted and expelled into my mind for further examination. I struggled to my hooves, absently rubbing sore stalk-eyes, and as soon as the bottom of my right hoof touched against the ground I tasted – no, felt – grass being crushed and absorbed into my systems.
One stalk eye turned up and saw sunlight, and my other swiveled around to assess my surroundings. It was largely green, with trees, and a sparkling body of water somewhere in the distance. I saw several Hork-Bajir footprints in the ground, deep marks that sank deep into the lush grass, some of the massive deadly toes even gouging in as far as to show smidgens of soil.
"Awake, now, are you?" asked a familiar voice. I turned my head and saw the dark-skinned human, sitting on the grass casually, leaning against her two arms, which were propped up behind her. Her legs were set in an angle so they made a triangle, the bottom side being the ground.
Yes, I replied, trying to sound just as nonchalant about the matter. The girl tilted her head at me, looking for all the world as if she was amused by my answer.
"I saw what you did to those Anti-Alienists last night," she said conversationally.
Anti-Alienists?
"They don't like…people from off-world," the girl said, shrugging. I saw a flicker of rage dart past her face like the shadow of a fleeing bird, disappearing as soon as it was seen. "They don't think you belong here. You're different, so you aren't to be trusted."
I could say nothing to that – what exactly would be the proper response? She didn't seem to be of this "Anti-Alienists" category herself, and of the Alienists' thoughts on different-world inhabitants…well, I heavily disapproved.
But I was obviously biased.
I…am sorry for them, I said finally, uneasily. She lifted an eyebrow at me.
"Sorry? You pity them?" she echoed, sounding not angry, but interested.
They simply do not understand that bodies do not matter, I said simply, shrugging myself, imitating her human gesture. I believed in my statement greatly, being in many different bodies myself. Mind was truly the judge of character…mind and heart. Though "heart" in the most connotative of meanings; of course the true circulatory organ was physical, but it seemed in every culture feeling originated always where the life was transported.
She smiled, and I felt relieved by her reaction.
"Yeah, some people just can't understand," she said distantly, looking off past me. My two stalk eyes followed her gaze, rotating completely around, and I saw that she had been looking at the trees. They had the low slashes that I knew Hork-Bajir left on their territories, from their deep blades against the bark when they climbed, but I saw no Hork-Bajir in sight. "Some people just don't see the mind underneath the body."
Yes, I agreed. Seeing that this was proceeding to no clear destination other than serving as a small, yet profound conversation, I took the initiative. Who are you?
"Cassie," the girl said, looking at me. She gave a mirthless smile. "Cassie the Animorph, Assistant to the President for Resident Aliens or something useless like that. Who are you?"
I am Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, I said, straightening my back proudly. Thinking further, I added, a decol.
"Vecol?" Cassie echoed, her eyes immediately darting to my tail. I "frowned."
Decol, I corrected. Experiment. It derives from the term –
She laughed. "That's all right, just an explanation of the word will be fine. But why – only if you feel comfortable about answering, of course – is it…experiment?"
I am an experiment under Project Hybrid, led by the Scientist Fradulan-Drisrouth-Semulan, Section Three-Seventeen of the Warith Field, I said, the words perfectly rehearsed. I am treated with recent state-of-the-art morphing technology, which allows me advanced manipulation of my morphs, though there are numerous theories on how I am able to do so. One is that I am able to consciously pick apart the very strands of DNA that I acquire and apply them to myself, altering my –
"Um," Cassie interrupted, lifting a hand to stop me from speaking further. "Slow down, will you? God, I almost forgot what it was like talking to Ax…"
Ax? I repeated, bewildered. An ax? Was that not a primitive human tool? Humans speak to inanimate objects?
Cassie laughed. "No, no, not an ax, like what you use to cut trees! 'Ax' – it's short for Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill…" She smiled dryly. "I'm sure you know him."
Prince Aximili! I cried. So this "Cassie" knew him! Perhaps she would know –
"But anyway, back to this Project Hybrid you were talking about," Cassie prodded. I started to protest, but then stopped. It would be better not to make this human angry – she might be able to help me. I began to recite the information again, but she disrupted again, with a quick, "But explain it to where I can understand, please."
Ah… I said, lost for words. To where a human could understand? But this was the simplest explanation I could think of! Ah, well…I have the ability to morph into other species with advan…more control than one would normally acquire with the granted abilities of the morphing device you call the 'Blue Box.' I am also able to util – er, use – different particles of DNA and amalgamate – mix – them together, therefore morphing into possibly several species simultaneously by selecting which traits I wish to manifest.
"Oh, wow," Cassie said in wonderment, leaning forward without use of her arms and folding her legs, looking at me avidly. "So you're basically saying you can morph two different things at once?"
Correct.
"So if you, like, wanted to be half a cat and half a dog then you could just form a mental image of the parts you want in your mind from those two, like a dog's nose and a cat's claws, or something?"
Correct.
"Without going back to Andalite first?"
Correct.
"Huh. Well, then that would explain how you grew wings last night," Cassie said, standing up and brushing herself off. I saw that she, too, was wearing the artificial skin called a leotard, and for a moment I wondered why. Then I remembered – she had called herself Cassie the Animorph. I recalled dimly that "Animorph" was the name that the handful of humans bestowed with morphing technology had called themselves. The humans that had gone up bravely against Visser One, along with Aximili –
Yes! If she had once known Aximili, then she was most likely an Animorph, and her strange garb was because she had morphed some kind of Earth creature to bring me to this place from the dirty space between buildings.
She, out of any humans in this world, would more likely know how to get a ship that could travel in Z-Space.
Oh! I said suddenly, as she stood.
"Yes?"
I wish to speak with you, I said seriously, taking a step forward, about Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.
I saw her visibly stiffen, saw the confident composure melt for just a second. And in that second, I saw a harassed almost-adult of her species, tired and deeply frustrated with something. But it was merely a second, and soon it had gone away.
"Why?" Cassie asked plaintively.
I…was sent on a mission, I lied. No, not truly a lie – it was true, in a way. To save him. I know that he went into Kelbrid territory, but in order to get there I am in need of a space transport capable of entering Z-Space.
Cassie stared, faltered. For a moment I brightened, but then: "I can't help you."
Why? I demanded, more shocked than defiant.
"I told Jake I wouldn't go," Cassie said quietly, looking off to the side and not meeting any of my eyes.
Jake?
Ah, of course. Jake.
What? I pursued. Cassie sighed deeply and shook her head, then turned to me.
"Well, if you think that I know where you can get some non-Andalite ship or something to take you up to the Kelbrid, you're mistaken," Cassie told me. I was surprised at how much she knew about this, and must have let it show, because she smiled grimly. "Yes, I know about the Andalites and the Kelbrid. Jake, Marco, Tobias and some others left to go find Ax – but Jake wanted me to stay here. To continue what I was born to do."
And that was…?
She narrowed her eyes slightly, but the emotion was not directed towards me. "Taking care of the Hork-Bajir, making sure resident aliens stay happy." She spread her arms out helplessly, gestured at the trees and at me. "As you can see, I haven't been doing it very well."
I turned a stalk eye to the trees, sweeping over their wide unending canopies. No Hork-Bajir in sight. And I had been attacked just the night before – what would have happened had I not been the decol I was?
Any other unfortunate Andalite would be a human nothlit.
"It's happened already," Cassie said, as if she were reading my thoughts. "I forget the names of the Andalites trapped, but they're out there…under special protection of the government, a apology disguised in the best facilities and food for them – a life-time of paradise treatment, in exchange for the loss of…so you see why I can't help."
She turned again, and I saw on her arms that the faint etchings of white-gray feathers lightening her skin, enveloping them in wintry flakes. She was obviously an estreen – a true estreen, with the actual talent – and it was beautiful…but I disrupted it.
You can't help, I said, trotting forward and putting a light seven-fingered hand on her shoulder. But what if you could?
"If I could?" Cassie retorted, turning, her dark hair transforming elegantly into a mane of feathers, a primal headdress. "If I could?"
Yes, I said, the faintest idea and premonition in my mind. If you could help…would you?
"Well, rather than face the president and the tourists, yes," Cassie said dryly, the feathers receding back into supple dark skin. "Rather than explain why all the Hork-Bajir are gone, yes. If I could help, well…then yes. I would. I would most definitely lay my life on the line…just to follow something I believe in again."
We looked at each other again, and after a moment of silence I felt crestfallen that my inkling had not fallen through –
But then I felt my hooves leaving the ground, and my stomach gave a whirl as I again entered the realm that was not.