The next two and a half days were not exactly fun for myself or Terlin.
You know how when you're a kid and you're trying to get your parents to let you do something they don't want to? At first, the answer might be an outright "no", and after some bugging on your end and thinking about it on their end, it becomes "maybe", and you know it's a fine line between moving that "maybe" to an outright "yes"? At least, that's how it was with mine.
Midget had an easier time of getting a "yes" than I did. Partly because I would almost always advocate for him, just on principle of being his big brother and my belief that he could never really get into serious trouble. Like, once, he wanted to attend a sleepover birthday party for a school friend that was being held on a Thursday night. Why the parents couldn't have it on a Friday was beyond me, but they were also the type to give their kid whatever he wanted. That year, his birthday had been on a Thursday, and he'd wanted a sleepover, and he'd wanted it on that night. So, that's what he got.
I'd bugged my parents to let Jake attend. What was the worst that could happen? He wouldn't get much sleep and be tired the next day in school. Big deal. He'd be able to sleep the whole weekend if he wanted, and even if he ended up missing school completely, it was only one day.
My parents agreed, let him go, and he had the best time and got less than five hours of sleep. They made him go to school the next day (which I found to be totally unfair then, and still do) and he slept most of Saturday. He thanked me later for helping me annoy them enough so that they'd said yes, because even though Friday at school had been unending, he'd had the best time ever.
Like I said. It's always a fine line between how much you bug your parents to let you do something they would probably say no to. Too much, and it's game over. Too little, and they might even forget entirely, and then, well, it can be a toss up. The goal is to use just the right amount of needling and overall bugging. Then, you've worn them down to the point where they'll say yes, just to get you out of their hair.
Once Illim asked Terlin to join the Peace Movement, and he'd told me to give him until he fed next to decide, I had a feeling it was going to be a very long two and a half days for both of us.
I think he realized this, too.
After all, he was my Yeerk and I was his host. Even if I didn't actually try to wheedle him into joining, the topic was on my mind more often than not during the days that followed. Terlin read my thoughts all the time-it wasn't something a Yeerk could avoid doing, as long as he was connected to your head. Sure, Yeerks can avoid opening your memories to an extent. Again, they saw what you saw, so if something triggered an amazing or horrible or mundane memory, they'd see it when you did, but they hear what you think.
It can be a pain for the host, because they have no privacy. What people forget is that this can be annoying for the Yeerk, because there's no peace and quiet.
At least, while the host is awake. But, even when they're sleeping, a Yeerk has their host's dreams to contend with.
Like it or not, Terlin was going to hear my thoughts about the Peace Movement during the next couple of days.
I simply wasn't able to make myself not think about it.
Not that it was obsessive or anything. Nor was I doing it on purpose, to bug him. But, it was on my mind, and it was new, and I wanted to explore it. Like, did the Yeerks and hosts meet together in a group, or did the Yeerks just meet at the Yeerk Pool? Did every Yeerk know every other Yeerk who was involved, or was it more secretive? Was there a leader? Did they make up their own ranks, as sort of a jab at the empire? How many Yeerks had actually freed their hosts, or, like Illim, simply acknowledged their wrongdoing, and their host let them stay in exchange for some control, overall good treatment, and the right to bring up their former slave status whenever they argued about something?
It was a lot to think about.
I didn't think my questions were unique to me, either. Terlin had to be wondering about at least some of the things I was.
The next time Terlin fed would be on a Thursday, after school ended. However, we didn't have History on Thursday, and even though it was likely that we would see Mr. Tidwell and Illim when our Yeerks fed, it wasn't a guarantee. He might feed before school, or after dinner. Few Yeerks with human hosts had a totally regular feeding schedule.
We did, however, have History on Friday at the end of the day, so we could remain after class without issues.
Also, no practice on Friday, so again, no problem there.
(I didn't exactly tell Illim that I would give him an answer then, Tom,) Terlin pointed out, and I could tell that he was really, really trying to be patient with it.
It was Wednesday afternoon, and classes had just finished.
You could say it had been a long day and a half.
(What did you tell him?) I asked, eagerly.
Hey, this time, he'd brought up the topic.
(That I would take what he said into consideration,) Terlin answered, sending me a mental eye roll.
I sent him my own without thinking about it. His response had been so very loyal Yeerk empire Yeerk. Or, to put it less diplomatically, a very "save your own butt" response. Terlin had listened, but had promised nothing. In the very unlikely event that this was a trap, he would be able to use this in a defense.
Not that it would really matter with Yeerks like Visser Three. No one gets a fair trial under him.
No one gets a trial under him, period.
(It might be wisest to give him my decision, which I have not made yet, on Friday,) Terlin continued. (We have his class at the end of the day and I can better gauge his reaction when he is in his host.)
That made sense. Even if it meant waiting another day.
(No, Tom, I will tell you my decision on Thursday,) Terlin promised, sighing. (For my own sanity, I will be unable to wait an additional twenty-four hours.)
I grinned inside my head. (It's your own fault, you know. You just had to stay in my head this whole time. After all, we didn't have any Sharing meetings since you last fed, and I could have pulled off being infested without your being in my head.) Probably. (And you know that I would have let you back in.)
(And what if your parents or Jake saw a large slug in a glass of water in your room?) Terlin asked, raising his eyebrows.
(Science project,) I answered, promptly. (A Yeerk in a glass of water looks totally gross, but not entirely unlike something from this planet.)
(I'll stick with the possibility of going insane from infesting you to being defenseless for an entire feeding cycle,) was his rather crisp reply.
(Well, you only have another day to you,) I chirped, giving him a big grin. (And just think of what you could have gone through these last nineteen months if I had been involuntary...)
Terlin snorted. (You're assuming I would have remained in your head that long.)
Well, yeah.
When I woke up the next day, Terlin greeted me with two words.
(I'm joining.)
They were tense, but determined. He'd made up his mind.
I grinned, feigning nonchalance, even though it wasn't like Terlin couldn't see my excitement. My elation, even.
(Cool.)
We did spend a lot of the day talking about it. Now that he'd made up his mind, he could speculate with me about what being a part of the Peace Movement meant.
(I hope they don't all know who each other is,) Terlin mused, during breakfast. (All it would take would be for one to get caught...)
(Probably, Illim or whoever's in charge knows the names, but the rest only know a few. They're all former empire, right? They have to know how the system works.) I swallowed some cheerios. Jake, I noted, was eating oatmeal. Hopefully not that disgusting ginger kind. Not only did it make Yeerks insane, it tasted nasty. I knew this from firsthand experience. Mom had accidentally bought some, before I'd been infested, instead of our usual brand. I wasn't a picky eater, but a mouthful of that stuff was all I would eat.
Jake, though, seemed to love it. Sometimes, he'd give me a big grin when he'd eat it, like he was telling me, "I know how disgusting you find this, and I love it, so I'm eating it in front of you on purpose."
It was only marginally better than being ignored or glared at.
Since he was giving me that look right now, I reached over and tousled his hair.
"Hey!" he grumbled, straightening it. "What'd I ever do to you, Tom?"
I rolled my eyes. "You know I hate that stuff, but you insist on eating it in front of me."
Jake returned my eye roll. "It's a free country, Tom. I can eat whatever I want for breakfast in front of you."
The words felt a little darker than usual, like there was this edge to them.
I shrugged. "Hey, your body. Destroy your taste buds, for all I care."
We finished eating in silence. Tense silence, too.
(I don't know why he hates me so much,) I complained, only for the ten millionth time. (And, before you say it's because he's a teenager, it's not like he acts that way with our parents. He's never rude or anything to them. Distant, maybe, but he doesn't look at them like he hates them.)
Terlin gave me a mental hug, because, well, what could he say?
School went by at the same snail length pace as it usually did. If it wasn't for Terlin, I would have died from boredom. I swear, teachers know how to make time stand still in their classrooms.
(It's a skill they learn in college, or wherever they go to learn to teach,) I complained during math class. (Manipulation of time.)
(Only slightly less useful than time travel,) Terlin answered, grinning at me.
(You have that?) I wondered.
He shrugged. (We don't, and I don't think the Andalites do, either. They would have gone back to prevent contact with the Yeerk home world, and all of that.)
I just nodded, in my head, in response.
Math was pretty easy for me now. I understood the material, not because of Mr. Barkley's ability to explain it, but because Terlin could go over it with me in my head.
As a result, since I understood everything in the first ten minutes of class, I spent the remainder thirty-five minutes trying not to die of boredom as Mr. Barkley went over it all for those students who didn't have decent Yeerks in their heads.
Sure, he was awful at explaining stuff, but what we were learning wasn't that hard if you just read the textbook a few times. I only got a 98 on my last test because Terlin and I both agreed that I needed to get at least a couple of questions wrong each time to avoid suspicion.
He didn't help me during the test, either. Studying, sure, but once the test started, he might as well have not been there.
We're not cheaters, after all.
Finally, the school day was over, and Terlin and I headed for the pool. He wouldn't start to get hungry until that evening, but why wait when we could go before then? Even if it meant missing dinner and having to stop at McDonalds to refuel afterwards.
There was food in the voluntary area, but it wasn't McDonalds. Or anything close to what Mom cooked. It was sort of like airplane food in that it was marginally better than nothing, but hardly worth skipping a meal to eat more of.
Mr. Tidwell was talking with Mr. Chapman, who was also a voluntary Controller, as was his wife. His only daughter, Melissa, was my cousin Rachel's age, but I'd never seen her at Sharing meetings. Rumor had it that Chapman's Yeerk was protecting her from infestation because, otherwise, his host would quit being voluntary. But, it could be any number of things. In all likelihood, Melissa was too busy with school and gymnastics to add The Sharing to her list of activities, and as long as she kept out of the way with the invasion, she could remain free (for now).
Mr. Tidwell gave me a little nod, which I returned, but went back to his conversation. Mr. Chapman looked more like one of those hosts who you saw in the cages who had given up than your typical voluntary host. His Yeerk was pretty close to Visser Three, and I imagined that he'd seen a lot. Even if his Yeerk was half decent to him, that had to be draining over time. I knew that he'd been infested at least six months before I'd been.
Time to zone out in front of the TV for a couple of hours.
Once Terlin returned, he told me that he told Illim that they should speak after school the following day regarding his question. Illim had agreed, and seemed surprised that Terlin had been able to give an answer this quickly.
(I got the very distinct impression that he knew what my answer would be, too,) he added, smiling wryly at me.
I grinned inside my head. (Just blame your annoying, incorrigible host for that.)
(Evidently.) He rolled his eyes. (Ready to eat?)
(Definitely. We'll get extra fries, okay? I'm starving,) I added.
(You know that some Yeerks would cut these foods out of your diet for health reasons,) Terlin told me, conversationally.
(We both know that I burn at least twice as many calories from one practice,) I countered, (and you love junk food as much as I do.)
(I never claimed otherwise, Tom,) he laughed.
That was putting it mildly. If Terlin had his way, I would have had two mouths, just to be able to eat more at once.
After putting in my standard slightly over one hour of homework-Terlin being in my head basically cut my work load by half-we decided to watch TV. Jake was downstairs, working on what looked like math, so we kept the TV on low.
He could still hear it, which he told us in no uncertain terms, with his arms crossed around his chest.
"Also, don't you have homework to do?" he grumbled, sounding like our parents.
I lowered the volume even more. "That's what I've just been working on, Midget," I answered, smiling at him. "It's all finished. You can check, if you want."
He rolled his eyes at me. "Already? Didn't you have a Sharing meeting earlier?"
"Yeah."
"And you're already finished with your work?" he protested.
I shrugged. "I work quickly. And you've seen my last report card. A's and A-'s."
He sighed, then started to leave the room.
"Hey, Midget?" I called, and he turned around. "I can help you, if you want."
He looked like he was going to say no, and I could also see that he looked pretty tired.
"Math, right?" I asked, and he nodded. "Look, Jake, I got a 98 on my last test. Give me five minutes to help you before you say no, okay?"
"Fine," he grumbled. Gesturing to the kitchen, he added, "You coming?"
It was not exactly a "thank you", but it was something. Who knew? Maybe, by the end of the year, we'd actually be on speaking terms.
Once I'd taken a seat, Jake showed me his Algebra textbook. "We're studying functions," he explained. "And, it just doesn't make any sense."
I nodded, giving him a sympathetic wince. "Yeah, I remember those, and they're definitely bizarre. Okay, just give me a minute to look over your textbook..."
(And ask you for help,) I added to Terlin.
(Of course,) he smiled.
We were able to explain it in a way that made sense to Jake. We watched as he completed the worksheet, and only had to have him double check his work once. To be fair, that was totally a trick problem, which I told him.
Afterwards, he seemed a lot less tense. He even smiled and thanked us.
"I might actually pass the test next week," he told me.
"I think you'll ace it," I grinned. "Anyway, I'm here this weekend if you need help. Well, not on Saturday morning, because of a Sharing meeting. But, the rest of the weekend, sure."
Jake's face darkened, just a little, when I'd mentioned The Sharing, but only for a second.
"Thanks," he nodded, his tone a little more abrupt than before.
"Hey," I added, wanting to change the subject away from The Sharing, "do you by any chance have Mr. Barkley for math?"
Jake nodded again. "You had him?"
"Have him," I explained, and rolled my eyes. "He's new this year. Honestly, Midget, if our school administration's got any brains, they'll make him redo the education program, if that's even a thing, or just fire him by the end of the year. He might understand math, but he can't teach it to save his life."
"Yeah. He is pretty bad," Jake sighed. "Not that he'd admit it. It's our fault for not studying enough, of course. Even though the average for the last test was a 60. Can't possibly be anything he's doing."
"A 60? Ouch. What'd you get?"
"65," Jake grumbled.
"Well, yeah, he's awful at his job. Trust me, I know. Your class isn't the only one who's doing poorly," I promised.
"You said you got a 98," Jake objected.
I shrugged, knowing that there was no good answer for this. I couldn't exactly claim to be a math genius, or attribute it to studying like crazy. Nor credit Terlin without looking like some kind of maniac. I settled on something that was true, but not completely. At least, for me.
"The Sharing kind of offers tutoring. Not that I'm saying you should join for that," I added, quickly. "But, I can help you with your math, if you want. Or other subjects. I'm hardly a genius, but I took a lot of what you did a few years ago. I remember some of it."
Jake looked like he was considering my offer. "Yeah, maybe."
I yawned. "Okay, well, I'm going to hit the sack. Try not to worry too much, okay? It's not like anyone's going to remember your grades in ten years, and despite what people say, I really don't think there's too much of a difference between what college you attend. You know Rob? Well, he told me that his older sister just graduated from some Ivy League school, and no one asked what her GPA was. Or hired her based on where she went to school." I shrugged. "It's probably all a scam. So, don't worry so much, okay? Just try to pass, and the rest will work out."
He nodded, managed a small smile. "Thanks, Tom."
I tousled his hair-and he didn't object, much. "Night, Midget."
I went to bed that night feeling that maybe, just maybe, Jake and I could go back to being friends.
Well, at some point.
The following day felt like a blur. I honestly couldn't remember anything, except that it seemed to be unending, and Terlin eventually took gentle control so I would seem normal to my fellow students and teachers. Finally, finally, it was History. We were the first ones there, and Terlin told Mr. Tidwell that we would see him afterwards to go over the sources for my term paper? He agreed, and we took our seat.
Terlin, still in control, seemed to focus better than I could. Maybe, Yeerks were better at compartmentalizing stuff. Well, they kind of had to be, if their host was involuntary. Had to act normal when your host was screaming or crying in their head.
"For homework, finish reading chapters twelve and thirteen, and don't forget that your research paper is due in two and a half weeks," Mr. Tidwell finished. "Any late papers will be deducted a full letter grade for each day that it's late. Class dismissed."
(Good thing ours is already finished, huh, Tom?) Terlin chirped.
(Oh, shut up,) I answered, teasingly.
We'd spent the better part of last Saturday on it. I'd complained about Terlin "making" me finish it so early, but it was done now, and it was good.
Not that we'd actually hand it in this early. We'd wait until the day it was due, like any sane high school student.
We'd taken a seat in the last row before class started, so we could easily dawdle until we were the last ones without attracting any attention. Plus, the whole ruse about my term paper, which Terlin had made sure to say in the hearing range of several other students.
Once we were the last ones there, Mr. Tidwell crossed over to the door and closed it. Then, he stood in front of it, and I realized that he wasn't blocking our exit, so much as trying to prevent any onlookers from seeing too much.
Not that there were likely to be many, at the end of a school day. On Friday, no less.
Terlin and I were sharing control, but I didn't expect to speak right away.
This was his moment, so to speak.
"We've decided to join," Terlin explained.
Mr. Tidwell nodded, slowly.
"I need to speak to Tom as well." He motioned to his ear.
Terlin crossed my arms around my chest. "I don't have any water with me."
Mr. Tidwell, as though anticipating this, crossed over to behind his desk and lifted his briefcase onto it. From there, he retrieved a plastic water bottle-still sealed-and opened it.
Click click.
Terlin took it, inspected it, took a sip.
"I'm not trying to poison you," Mr. Tidwell/Illim assured us.
Terlin nodded. "Very well. But, watch the hallway while I leave Tom."
Tom. Not "my host".
"Of course," Mr. Tidwell/Illim assured him, turning back to the door.
(If I'm not back in your head in an hour, I'll start to worry,) Terlin cautioned me. (Also, Tom? Be careful.)
(I will,) I promised.
He disconnected from my head, and I felt his wet, stretched out body crawl out of my ear. I held the water bottle with one hand, and reached for my Yeerk with the other. He began to resume his regular form, and while neither were particularly attractive, a stretched out Terlin was way less so than his regular form.
I carefully placed him in the mostly full water bottle. Several drops spilled on the floor as his body fell in, splashing around.
"Well, guess we should have drank more before doing that," I noted, placing the bottle on the desk. "Hi again, Mr. Tidwell. Illim."
They smiled at me. "Hello, Tom."
"Anyway, yeah, we definitely want to join up. I wanted to before he did, but we both do, now," I confirmed. "We have a lot of questions."
Mr. Tidwell/Illim smiled at me again. "Naturally. We wanted to make sure that it was legitimate before revealing any compromising information. Few Yeerks, even those with voluntary hosts, would be willing to leave their hosts outside of the Yeerk Pool."
I pointed to Terlin. "He's legit."
"You realize, Tom, that you will be in danger as much as your Yeerk? Well," Mr. Tidwell amended, "not quite as much. He will risk death and torture, but you would be reassigned to another Yeerk, if the wrong people find out."
I'd guessed as much.
"I'd probably still be tortured by that Yeerk," I noted. "But yeah, I know the risks. I still think it's worth it." I took a deep breath. "What they're doing-it's wrong. It's evil. Sure, my parents and Jake aren't in any direct danger, and Terlin is cool. But, that can all change. I see what they do, how they take people, enslave them. Kids, too. They need to be stopped." I took a deep breath. "If there's anything I can do to try to stop them, I want to. I need to. Terlin...he was hesitant, at first, but he's come around."
I honestly wasn't sure what we could do, though. Several peaceful Yeerks against a Yeerk empire? Okay, maybe we had some support from one of the Andalite Bandits, and that was better than nothing. Still...
Talk about being an underdog.
Here, they smiled. A real, genuine smile.
"It's not quite as hopeless as you may think. Especially, Tom, with you on board," Mr. Tidwell/Illim explained. "In fact, your presence may very well alter the course of the war."
I responded with a very intelligent, "Huh?"
A sigh, then a glance at my hand. Or, rather, at the bottle of water containing my Yeerk.
"This information is necessary for both of you to know, but it may be a lot more personal for you, Tom. Do you want to hear it before your Yeerk?" Mr. Tidwell/Illim asked me, gently.
On impulse, I shook my head. "No way. We're a team."
"Okay, then..." They nodded towards the water bottle.
Taking the hint, I carefully retrieved Terlin, and placed him to my ear. After the brief stab of pain and then some pressure, I felt his presence once again in my mind. He didn't take control, though.
(They have some information they want to give us,) I explained. (Something personal.)
(Oh?) Terlin's confusion was obvious. (Well, let's hear it.)
"Okay, he's back," I told them. "What's going on?"
They gestured to a desk in the front, and then sat down at the one beside it. "Trust me, you'll want to sit down."
"Okay," I repeated, taking a seat.
"As you know, there have been six Andalite Bandits fighting Visser Three and the Yeerk empire for well over a year," they started. "What many suspected, and Aftran confirmed before her capture, and I personally can confirm to you both, is that only one of them is truly Andalite. The rest are human."
"Human? Like, military or cops? But, wait, how would they have gotten the power to morph?" I protested.
Mr. Tidwell/Illim shook his head. "Not members of the cops or the military. Prince Elfangor, before he was murdered by Visser Three, came across five human children who were in the abandoned construction site, where his ship crashed."
I felt myself straighten in my seat, the hair on my arms stand on end. "He met five kids? Please tell me they didn't go to the police or anything..."
"No, they remained quiet about having met a dying alien," they reassured me.
"Okay. So, he met these kids before finding some adults who were willing to take on the Empire?" I pressed.
Mr. Tidwell/Illim shook his head. "Not exactly. There wasn't enough time. Here, dying from injuries he received when his ship crashed, he explained to these kids about the Yeerk empire and their invasion. He also gave them the power to morph."
"You're kidding. Kids are doing this much damage to the empire?" I asked.
"Teenagers, to be precise," Mr. Tidwell/Illim corrected.
A part of me wanted to make a joke. Like how teenagers could do a lot of damage when they put their minds to it, with graffiti and doing drugs and whatnot, but fighting a war? By themselves?
Well, maybe they were part of a gang. Did we even have gangs here?
"Yes. Tom, Terlin. You know all of these teenagers." He began to list their names. "Tobias, who disappeared from school shortly after their initial attack on the Yeerk Pool. Marco. Cassie."
"Wait! Marco? Like, Jake's best friend? And Cassie? They're kind of dating. Does he know?" I demanded.
"Rachel," Mr. Tidwell continued.
"My cousin?" I yelped.
"There's one more." Mr. Tidwell stared at me. "Are you ready?"
I nodded, unable to speak.
"Tom, your brother is their leader."
My eyes grew wide, and if I hadn't been sitting down, I knew I would have fallen down. Terlin wouldn't have been able to stop me.
Jake, my kid brother, Midget, was one of the so-called Andalite Bandits? He was fighting a war against the Yeerks? He was leading an army?
No wonder he'd been in such a bad mood for the past year.
A/N: This seemed like the best place to end the chapter, don't you think? Right with the cliffhanger of Tom and Terlin finding out. Now, they just have to figure out how to tell Jake that they know, and not get Terlin killed off in the process. Plus, there's the not so minor problem of Tom having been a voluntary Controller for the better part of two years. Yeah. They have their work cut out for them!
Since I plan to have this story last until the end of the series, and don't want it to end up being over 100 chapters long, I'm going to change it into a series. This is the first work in the series (obviously), and will end a little before book 31 begins. Which means that we probably have another ten or so chapters to go.
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