Chapter 6

"It's just Esplin 9466, now," I said. "No longer Visser Three, or Visser One. Just regular old Esplin 9466."

Marco had assured us that the mansion would be empty after dark. When Tobias reported the elusive Wetherbee leaving the main gates, Marco gave us the grand tour as our discussions grew more detailed and ambitious. We had stopped in the billiard room, and Santorelli was distracted as he was busy annihilating Marco. It wasn't Marco's most familiar game, and Santorelli explained that he had become somewhat of a sports generalist in his military occupation. It showed.

Nevertheless, it was only something to keep brains churning as we discussed the new phase we were entering.

Menderash sounded like he wanted to spit at the mention of our previous foe's name. "The beast doesn't even deserve a name."

"Well, it's all he has left," I sighed. "If we took his name, he would have nothing else to live for."

"Take it, then," Menderash sneered. "Not only an incompetent leader but a murderer. I think your Human justice system has been far too lenient on him."

((It's your justice system now, too,)) Tobias commented.

Menderash gazed at the hawk sitting atop the door. "Is the hawk justice system yours, Tobias?"

((No. But I didn't have much choice in becoming a nothlit.))

Menderash dipped his head at Tobias' implication. "I betrayed my crew. I became a nothlit not through choice, but duty; my duty to travel into Kelbrid space and rescue my Prince."

Tobias was silent after that. I noticed his words' bitter nature, but then was not the time for me to chase it up. We had more significant problems to face.

Santorelli took a shot and then leaned on his cue. "Yeah, the Visser was incompetent, but from what I hear, the entire empire was more self-defeatin' than the Davy Crockett mortar!"

Menderash bypassed the obscure reference but got the gist of what Santorelli was saying. "That's right. The Yeerks were beyond incompetent, but what would you expect? The race had never experienced war, military organization, or tactical leadership. They were given advanced technology and took control of new host bodies that they had no direct knowledge of, that themselves had little to no knowledge of war or fighting."

"It's like putting a toddler in charge of an M1 Abrams." Marco chimed in. His military reference received him a sporting, firm pat on the back by Santorelli.

"And the Visser was the most incompetent of them all," Menderash hissed. "A buffoon, more dangerous to his own soldiers than any enemy. A coward and a murderer."

"So you don't like him?" Jeanne asked with a cheeky smile.

As expected, Menderash couldn't comprehend the humor behind her words. "No, I do not. I detest the monster."

"Instead of criticizing him – even if it's justified – we need to discuss him," I insisted, standing by the edge of the billiard table as Marco was preparing to take a shot from the opposite side. "Unless anybody else can think of any high-rank Yeerks that reside on Earth in their natural form?"

Nobody answered. Menderash tightened his lips and frowned, his eyes looking to the boarded floor.

I nodded. "Okay. Let's go with the assumption that that is our best option."

There was a click as Marco's white ball struck another. For the first time in the game, the ball fell neatly into the central hole. He lifted himself from the table and punched at the air with a hushed "Yes!"

"Won't be a casual visit," Santorelli noted, smirking at Marco's reaction and quickly out-doing Marco's relatively simple shot.

"The prison is secure," Jeanne added. She was sitting in a comfy leather seat at the side of the room, legs folded. "He is imprisoned there because it is heavily guarded."

"She's right," Marco said, judging the table. "Maximum security. We'll need to pull off something special to get inside. Or, we could arrange for a friend's visit. Think he's allowed to see friends or family once every month?"

"I don't know much about the facility," Menderash commented, his eyes on me. "I assume the plan is to speak to the Yeerk without revealing ourselves to the Humans. We'd need a layout plan."

"That will be easy to find," Jeanne replied with a grin.

"Aren't we jumpin' the gun a little here?" Santorelli asked. "If we want to interrogate this guy, why don't we just get Caysath and the Andalites to do it? Who needs to sneak anywhere when those guys could just ask?"

Marco knew. He even delayed the shot he was about to take to answer. "Why do we want to ask the Visser questions in the first place? Because we found something in Kelbrid Space that he might know about. The Andalites are going to be just a bit suspicious when Caysath, out of nowhere, decides to interrogate an ex-Visser about some weird thing out in Kelbrid Space called The One that neither he nor any other Andalite has seen before. Bar Menderash. Sorta."

"He could tell his Andalite guys that he asked other questions. Then he could pass the juicy stuff to us," Santorelli suggested.

"Uh-uh," Marco retorted. "I don't think they'll buy that story: Caysath went to interrogate the Visser, asking questions about his favorite restaurants and his opinions on Judas Priest. No way. As far as the Andalites know, the Visser has no connection to Ax's disappearance, nor will they have connected it to the Kelbrids since Ax wasn't kidnapped in Kelbrid Space. It's us who have made that connection. If Caysath is seen asking questions, his friends will want to know why, and he can't bullshit them for long. The Andalites aren't as incompetent as the Yeerks."

"And Prince Caysath will not want to lose his position and risk being seen as the traitor who protected known criminals," Menderash added bluntly.

I bowed my head to Marco, my sign to him that I felt he was right. He always had been smart when he wanted to be.

Santorelli wasn't stupid, either. I could see him thinking it over, trying for some kind of loophole.

"Hey, Marco," I smirked. "Maybe if you applied those brains to the table, you wouldn't be losing so badly right now."

He coughed out a laugh. "I'm planning for the comeback."

"Sure you are…"

((So is it settled?)) Tobias queried from above us. ((We infiltrate the Kansas prison for a not-so-friendly talk with the Visser?))

I looked up at him and then turned back around to see all eyes in the room staring at me. They expected me to respond, to sign on the dotted line of the contract they would all be tied up in.

It was a horrible nostalgia, and I felt the anxiety of another big decision rush through my core.

But I had resigned myself to the role long ago.

"It's settled for me," I uttered, raising my posture to feign confidence. "Are we all in?"

There came a resounding yes from them all, though some less enthusiastic than others.

"First things first, then," I continued. "We're going to need to get to Kansas."

Funnily enough, that even got a blank stare from Marco. Traveling half the country without being recognized would be an issue in itself, but the mode of transport was the biggest problem of all. Suggestions flew in from around the room, and so did the negative answers.

"Our cars?"

"We can't drive our own. Could be recognized."

"Train?"

"Too public."

"Plane?"

"Again, too public. Could be recognized."

"What about my private plane?"

"None of us knows how to drive it, Marco…"

"… Walk?"

"That's just stupid."

All the while, Menderash had been staring at the ceiling. It was something that he often did whenever an idea was brewing in his head. I kept my eyes on him, and he didn't fail to deliver once all the other options had been thoroughly chewed up and discarded.

"Prince Caysath mentioned that I am not known to be a Human nothlit. Nor would the Humans recognize me. Can't we use this to our advantage?"

Jeanne sat up; her eyes lit sparkling in the white glow that radiated around the billiard table. "We could give you a false identity."

((Can we do that?)) Tobias asked to the room.

Marco replied. "We have, in this room, three legendary guerrilla war heroes, an Andalite in disguise, an army ranger, and an agent of intelligence. Getting a fake ID should be as basic as breathing, right?"

"Oh, I can do a lot more than just get a fake ID," Jeanne giggled.

"Really?" Marco hummed with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," she replied. "Medical history. Place of residence. Family and previous job experience. I will make Menderash the complete Human."

And Santorelli slotted home the winning ball.