Sonili-Esth-Fastil:
I stared at the results. [What happened?] Torfan asked,
I tapped several commands into the computer, and scowled.
[The infected shipment was redirected to an aerial transport]
[Yeerks?] Torfan asked, curious.
I twitched my eye-stalks, thinking as I checked the back-order on the shipment. I started laughing.
[Sonili?]
[It's not the Yeerks… the humans misfiled the shipping order]
[Keep watch on the signal]
[I will] I promised, then delegated the tracking program to a tertiary node, as soon as Torfan left. I returned to work, trying to circumvent my mother's computer block. I was so close.
I heard familiar footsteps on the deck behind me, and swung a stalk eye towards the source. Eventually my friend arrived at the cabin, and stepped inside.
[Hello Jacob] I said.
"Yeah, thanks for the atomic shaver," Jacob joked. His face almost looked… Andalite, without the thick lumps of fur on his cheeks and mouth.
[Did it perform as you expected?] I queried absently, chasing down a memory loop my mother had tied a command function to. If I could just keep it pinned long enough to disseminate it…
"It worked pretty well. A few friction burns along the jaw line but… well, yeah, I'm happy with the shaver," Jacob said in satisfaction, running his hands over his face compulsively.
[I'm glad] I murmured distractedly, fingers flying across the interface.
"We recognized some of the components, but not all. What did you use for the focusing emitter?"
[One of the broken Dracon beams that I stripped down had a faulty matrix]
"Uh… how… safe is that?" Jacob asked, suddenly nervous.
[The matrix only destabilized with high energy yields. Vaporizing hair doesn't require much power, so it should be safe] I assured him.
"Should be?"
[In life, nothing is certain] I replied, using one of my uncle's lessons.
The computer pinged at me. Annoyed, I halted my assault on the computer block, and pulled the tracking program back up.
I checked the location of the infected communicator. It was half-way across the Atlantic Ocean. That is not what the computer was alerting me for.
[Over five hundred different communicators have been infected on the eastern coast of the continent] I reported.
"Got any patterns yet?" Jacob asked eagerly, peering over my shoulder.
I drew up a map of the continent we were on. Red dots began to light up, with the thickest amount concentrated in a fifteen mile area.
[Computer, magnify grid, full resolution] I ordered.
The computer moved in until the area filled the screen. The dots were scattered haphazardly now, still filling the screen with hundreds of red dots.
[Connect data points in sequence of transmission]
Red lines began to connect the dots, starting with the oldest transmission, then drawing a straight line to the second oldest transmission from that particular unit, and so on. It began to look like a web.
"Like a ball of yarn… they all meet in the middle…" Jacob whispered, excited. The results did not appear spherical to me. Every line crossed within a two mile area, a little off from the center of the grid.
[Mother. I've found a possible Yeerk pool] I reported.
[I'll be right there] my mother promised.
Jacob played with the computer for a second, over my shoulder, then hissed several words that did not translate.
[What? What is wrong?]
"Look at where all of the lines converge," Jacob snarled.
[Harris County Domed Stadium? Is that significant?] I asked, confused. Perhaps it had religious significance?
"They built their pool under the eighth wonder of the world. What could possibly be wrong with that?" Jacob snarled. I peered closer at the results, and realized the facility involved football.
[But you don't even like football, you went to great lengths to make your disfavor of the game clear in our earlier discussion] I said.
"I never said I hated football, I simply said that baseball was a far nobler past-time than—" Jacob interrupted angrily, distracted for the moment… I shifted my weight from hoof to hoof, uncomfortable with my lack of understanding… and
Jacob had a very… frightening look in his alien eyes.
((()))
My mother called a meeting of war (it seemed a little silly to call it that) in the cockpit.
Jacob had apparently been… well, not forgiven, but at least cleared of treachery for his earlier altercation (in the human place of business) in my mother's mind, because he was permitted to sit in.
[We have narrowed the possible location of the Yeerk pool as somewhere beneath this entertainment stadium, but the difficulty, is finding an entrance to the pool. We know it is likely two hundred meters below the surface of the city, but little else] my mother said grimly.
[We should be able to locate an entrance by following suspicious activity, and movements] Torfan suggested.
"The more people we have looking, the faster it will be… but it will also raise the risk of being noticed by the Yeerks…" Jacob pointed out.
[A fair point. Also, it is difficult to impersonate human customs for any length of time] my mother sighed.
"I can help with that…" Jacob offered.
Mother stared at Jacob levelly, without hate, just cold calculation, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of Jacob's presence in the assault team. (As if he would willingly stay behind).
[There will be no more trips with squirrels] my mother said flatly.
"You got it," Jacob agreed eagerly.
Jett shifted uneasily at the back of the cockpit, "Jah-kob go, Jett follow,"
[Your presence would only endanger the human] mother said coldly.
Jett flared her beak, a grim approximation of a smile, "Jah-kob go, Jett follow."
"We'll work something out," Jacob urged impatiently, "let's get back to planning, I want to give these bastards the worst Monday of their lives."
"Logistics?" Jacob asked.
Torfan scrolled down the datapad.
[We have, currently, sixty kilograms of Trinitrotoluene remaining, from our mining theft—]
"Trinit… what?" Jacob asked.
[Trinitrotoluene] Torfan repeated, unsure of the question.
Jacob's eyes defocused for a moment, a fairly good indicator that Esplin was explaining something to him.
"Oh… TNT… got it," Jacob nodded.
[Torfan, there is something I did not mention…] I said guiltily.
[Yes, Sonili?]
[I modified six of our Yeerk communicators to be… secure. The signals are hidden behind human radio-waves, and mundane background radiation. They should be undetectable] I confessed.
[When did you do this?] my mother asked, curious.
[Yesterday… with Jacob's help]
Jacob Nyles:
I hate van rides. I was driving, but still… and the air-conditioning, naturally was broken… in Texas.
True, it was winter, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. I had the windows cranked down as far as they would go.
"You okay back, there, Jett?" I called again, marking the hour… keeping an eye out for a rest stop, so the andalites could remorph.
"Jett happy, heat good," the Hork-bajir chuckled… the noise coming from under the black tarp in the back.
[At least one of us is comfortable] Dr. Helaine panted, sitting in the passenger seat beside me. She looked like a college coed, who would probably die of embarrassment, if she ever saw how Helaine was holding up the bottom of her shirt, to funnel the air from the window through. I sort of got distracted a couple of times. She was a cute coed. Did I mention that?
[Jacob. Eyes on the road] Esplin hissed.
"Sorry," I muttered, embarrassed. It's not like I liked the doctor. But I'd been more or less the poster boy for abstinence… even if I was getting dragged along, kicking and screaming the whole way.
[Poor Torfan] Esplin said, thinking of the Andalite cadet trapped in the airless middle of the van.
[Sympathy for an Andalite? From you?] I teased.
[Torfan is civil to us, which is useful] Esplin replied.
[Jacob… I've tuned the scanners to lock on to Yeerk frequencies. They should be sensitive enough to pinpoint a signal within a seven meter area] Torfan reported, fiddling with the devices in his lap.
"Why can't we pinpoint them exactly?" I asked.
[We could, if we conducted active scans, but on a unit that small, we would be easily detected] Torfan explained calmly.
[Why not scan for Dracon power sources?] Esplin wondered. I relayed the question.
[Too much interference from human fission power facilities… although that means the Yeerks cannot actively screen for Dracon weaponry either] Sonili answered.
I hadn't thought of that. Esplin hadn't either.
[Xeno-geneticist. Not engineer] she muttered.
[Maybe you should take some college courses, at Yeerk-U. Round out your skill set] I suggested helpfully.
She glowered, but did not reply.
"Hey, Torfan, you ever hear about Old McDonald?" I asked.
Esplin groaned.
Helaine-Mtalenon-Ashul:
To my intense chagrin, Jacob talked Torfan into joining his diversionary activity… and after some initial clumsiness, the small vehicle resounded with the exploits of the elderly human farmer McDonald, and an inventory of all the life forms he owned within his farm. If Jacob's claims were true, then I would consider this human's collection more along the lines of a biological preserve than an agricultural facility.
"—had a Mako shark, E-I-E-I-O," Jacob sang, with Torfan lagging a few moments behind him.
"with a chomp chomp here, and a chomp-chomp there, here a chomp, there a chomp, everywhere a chomp-chomp, Old McDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O!"
Torfan's face, despite the sweat, and redness, appeared entertained since he kept a human smile on his lips, as he mimicked the animal sounds and unfamiliar animal names.
I tried to tune out the off-key harmonies, and focused on searching for the next rest stop… at least the singing would end for the time it took to enter a human waste processing cubicle, and remorph our human forms.
My only other hope was that Jacob would either forget the remaining animals belonging to Old McDonald, or else, the illustrious human's collection would prove not quite so limitless.
I had no such luck… and the recitation continued for the next seven hours, until we stopped for the night at a human sleep area Jacob called a motel.
"So… humans pay others to sleep within their own scoops?" Torfan asked, confused.
"Sort of. Nobody lives in these rooms… their whole purpose is to be rented out for a variable number of nights," Jacob explained.
I listened with only half an ear. The room was quite cramped… with only a single bed.
"Why was the human male so surprised by the request for a single bed?" I asked.
"Well… he probably assumed… we were… uh…" Jacob broke off, turning the same color as the scoop attendant had.
"His face had that reaction as well," I observed.
"He probably thought we were very… uh… liberal," Jacob said, embarrassed.
I had no idea what he meant… but after a moment, I realized it was likely unimportant. We would reach our objective sometime near afternoon, tomorrow. Technically we could have kept traveling, but Torfan was not confident in his ability to pilot the human vehicle, since there were many small laws and nuances in the human culture concerning their operation. Strafing in front of another vehicle was considered poor etiquette, unless the pilot pushed their arm out of a window, with the third digit extended… to which the pilot of the vehicle that had been strafed returned the signal.
Human madness.
Esplin 1894:
[How many times are you going to do that?] I asked.
[Do what?] Jacob asked, distracted, as he peeked out past the edge of the blinds, watching the parked van in the lot outside. The door was locked, with a chair wedged against it, since the Andalites weren't human at the moment.
[I would like to sleep now. We're tired] I snapped.
[Well sorry, princess] Jacob mocked.
Neither of us are good company when sleep deprivation was involved.
[She's a big girl] I pointed out. All seven feet of her.
[Yeah… but, what if someone jacks the van? Jett might wake up disorientated] Jacob said, worried.
[She's not a child] I grumbled.
[But… what if they have a gun? She might not recognize it as a weapon… they might hurt her] Jacob fretted.
[Before or after they finish changing the color of their pants?] I snorted.
[There's no such thing as a mental snort] Jacob said, [It's a physical sound]
[Jacob… if you do not let us sleep, I will begin dragging out every single memory you have of Courtney] I threatened.
[You wouldn't…] Jacob said. He thought I was bluffing. Jacob could block his memories from me… but I'd already… copied, much of the information. He couldn't block me from myself…
And just like that, I plucked a shared memory from the ether, and we were having a bubble-bath with Courtney. Of course, we were both three years old at the time.
[Okay, stop!] Jacob snarled, letting the blind fall shut, seething. I stopped the memory, startled by the anger. I had picked the bubble-bath memory as a soft option to uphold my threat, while still avoiding the painful memories Jacob held of the later years.
[Esplin, you can be a real bitch sometimes] Jacob said bitterly, flopping onto the bed. He didn't bother removing his jeans. We would be uncomfortable in the morning. Jeans pinch when worn to bed.
The wall was up. That startled me. Jacob hadn't used the wall in… months.
He was extremely angry, and I didn't know why. Calling me a bitch also didn't clarify anything either.
Eventually, Jacob fell asleep… but I did not remain in the dream with him for long. It was a nightmare from Antios III, involving stingers and serrated mandibles. Instead, I pored through his recollections of the day… trying to understand what I had done to upset him. True, he was an irrational, emotional creature… but there was usually a trigger for his outbursts. So many tangled threads, thoughts, memories… by the time Jacob finally woke in the morning, I was no closer to understanding… but Jacob had apparently forgiven me, or forgotten… or the reasons for his anger were as inexplicable to him as they were to me…
Jacob Nyles:
"I'm tired of walking…" the little boy whined. He was quite good at it. He hit all the right nascent tones, on his way up the register, before letting the pitch fall in the second half of the word. It was a noise that would either force the harried looking tourist mother to find a place to stop… or throttle him on the spot. Esplin was leaning more towards the throttling… since we'd been stuck in this group for at least an hour… criss-crossing the damned city on foot, with the scanner tucked in our tourist belt pack. I also saw a lot of "cell phones." Sometimes… it really surprised me how far human technology could jump in six years. I mean, I'd seen some from before… but they'd been really expensive… cheaper to use a phone booth. That, and gas seemed higher than I remembered. Superman would be in a tough spot, I'd only seen a handful of phone booths so far.
[Please Jacob. An accidental concussion would silence the brat, without causing lasting damage…] Esplin wheedled, as the little boy started whining again. Judging by the glances from the other adults in the group, Esplin's idea wasn't unique.
[But Esplin, can you not see the deftness of his manipulations?] I teased.
[Manipulation? He is weak, and stupid] Esplin sneered.
[He's also making the group hostile to himself, and his mother. Soon, they'll likely have to find a new tour group… and in the mean time, he'll probably be sitting down] I pointed out.
Esplin took a few minutes, to wade through her irritation (we were a little hot, and sweaty, since the scenic tour was very scenic… which translated to sunny with minimal shade. Esplin was particularly irritated by the clammy sensation of our sweaty shirt sticking between our shoulder blades, and in the hollow of our sternum).
[Make up your mind. First it's too cold, now it's too hot] I teased.
Esplin ignored me, still parsing through my observations… and grudgingly, came to the same conclusion as me… forcing her to view the boy's actions in a slightly less hostile, and slightly more practical view… right up until he started whining again. Then she was back to simmering hostility.
I was distracted by something else. I followed the scent, cranking my head, as I inhaled… and locked onto my target.
[Jacob… we're leaving the group…] Esplin observed… but she too was focused on the source of the smell.
Hotdogs.
Real, manly hot dogs. The kind that look more like a grizzled sausage… sizzling on steel spikes as they cooked… real meat, not ground factory product…
We were drooling.
We didn't care.
We had money. The street vender's prices were affordable… if we only had a dozen.
Then the Andalites ruined it.
Helaine-Mtalenon-Ashul:
"Food fight!" a juvenile human yelled. They were part of the group from the long, yellow transports. Most stood only 1.2 meters in height. The human tenders appeared harassed… and too few to properly control the disruptive creatures. They reminded me of Jacob in many ways. Especially the young male that instigated the conflict. Soon, human consumables filled the air, as roughly two hundred humans engaged in the pointless conflict.
[Torfan… I believe we should find a different group to infiltrate. This one appears… defective…] I sniffed.
The aristh did not respond.
[Torfan?] I asked, looking around, once again cursing the limited range of vision I possessed in human morph. Torfan was not by my side, where I had last seen him. I turned around, becoming worried. Had we been compromised? Or was this a "mugging" situation that Jacob had warned us of… apparently a by product of placing many humans in close proximity.
Then I saw my comrade… and winced.
Torfan was darting through the impromptu battle ground, stuffing food into his mouth, only sporadically chewing. Some of the food appeared to have a detrimental effect to the pigments of the artificial skins being worn. Despite the chaos… he was beginning to draw attention. I waded into the melee, focused upon Torfan… to the point that I did not see the projectile, before it hit my cheek, smeared across my eyes, and covered my nose and mouth. I coughed, blinking, trying to clear my eyes… then the substance in my mouth began to register… and instinctually, I flicked my human tongue across my lips… and the sensation intensified… a thousand fold.
Jacob Nyles:
The communicator in my belt pack started to vibrate… forcing me to juggle my hot dog, as I found a secluded place to answer.
"Yoh, deh iz Jay-koh," I drawled, around a mouthful of meaty awesome. I couldn't quite get my mouth closed around the food.
[Jacob?] Sonili asked, confused.
I swallowed hastily.
"Yeah, I'm here," I said.
[Mother and Torfan are not responding… and they have deviated from their route. They are also traveling far too quickly to be on foot]
"Public transportation maybe? Like a bus?" I asked. Neither alien could drive. Well… Torfan could operate a golf-cart, probably, after watching me drive the truck. The doctor couldn't be bothered though.
"Can you hack any visuals?" Esplin asked, while I was distracted.
[No. The communicators are secured… but the band is too narrow to transmit information as complex as visuals…] Sonili apologized.
"Sonili… I can't just walk around with the communicator out, taking headings from you," I sighed. Yeerks would recognize the communicator, even if the normal humans just thought I was being goofy or crazy.
[Wait. They've come to a stop…] Sonili reeled off some coordinates to me, and I pulled out the big tourist map, painstakingly following the column of letters with the row of numbers until I found the right square.
"There's not a lot there…" I said, looking closely, wishing I knew how to actually read a map, and not just fake it.
[No… nothing at all… except a police station…] Esplin sighed sarcastically.
"You don't think Torfan forgot his pants again, do you?" I asked, worried.
[In this heat… I'm more worried about the good doctor going topless…" Esplin said, enviously.
"Sonili, how long has the other team been in morph?" I asked.
[Seventy-three minutes]
"Shit," Esplin and I agreed.
Helaine-Mtalenon-Ashul
[The matter will be irrelevant in twenty-seven minutes] I pointed out.
[I still do not understand why the civilian warriors captured us. We did not attack the other humans] Torfan sighed.
[As I said, the why will soon be meaningless. We must escape] I said firmly, studying the bars of the crude cage.
[There are recording devices. If we demorph, and morph into forms capable of escape, the Yeerks will know Andalites are on earth…] Torfan protested.
[You would have us do nothing? Become nothlits?] I hissed.
[No. I suggest patience. Your daughter might have noticed our predicament… and Jacob will probably find some way to aid us…] Torfan said. I curled my lip in distaste, looking away from the aristh. He was too quick to trust, too quick to hope. A brave… but clumsy fighter. There were others in the cage with us. Many of them appeared mad, or at least, afflicted with some kind of mental aberration. The condition appeared reversible though, as some of the stranger humans had become more mentally consistent during our incarceration… although there appeared to be a direct correlation with the return of higher mental functions, and groaning mixed with facial grimacing.
[Very well…] I growled, [We will give Jacob twenty more minutes. Then we will take action…]
Jacob Nyles:
[Excellent. More running. That is exactly what we need more of, in this oppressive heat] Esplin said sarcastically. We could take it. Probably… though I was feeling sort of sick and queasy…
[Resistance and immunity are not interchangeable… especially were heatstroke is concerned—]
[Quiet you] I grunted, as we took a corner a little too sharply, and I accidentally ran over a street mime… and apparently right through her invisible wall.
"Sorry!" I panted.
"Mother f—!" the mime snarled, before I was too far away to hear the rest, drowned out by the traffic.
"Need a cop… need a cop," I chanted under my breath, matching my breakneck (hopefully not literally) pace.
[Esplin… I need you ready…] I said.
[I still don't like your plan] Esplin said, her voice slightly indistinct.
[It'll work. We're out of time, and we can't pull a Terminator style jail-break. We're not that durable] I replied.
[Nor do we possess the weaponry required] the faint thought reached me… and my ear started throbbing.
[Oww… oww-oww-oww!]
[Sorry… I'm out of practice] Esplin's thoughts were positively faint, almost transparent. She hadn't numbed my ear canal… and Yeerks aren't supposed to linger.
I saw white and black… with blue and red on top.
Got it.
Without slowing, I closed on the parked squad car. It was empty… outside a fast-food joint.
Perfect.
I slowed to a walk… and entered beneath the golden arches.
I spotted the officer about mid-way through the line. Early thirties, a little bit of premature balding, frizzy orange hair. Looked like he had a little bit of paunch, but hard to tell beneath the vest. I cupped a hand to my ear, and felt Esplin wriggle into my fingers.
My head felt… well, I didn't like it. I ignored the empty feeling, focused on my target.
"Officer?" I panted. The man turned his head, catching sight of me. I looked like I'd sprinted all the way here, and I let my panic show.
The suspicion in the man's eyes quickly jumped to concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping towards me, and turning. Slightly off-balance, distracted.
Perfect.
I lunged forward, my right hand hitting his mouth hard enough to bust a lip, but not jostle any teeth, and boxed his right ear with my cupped left hand.
The police officer grunted, more startled then hurt. It would hurt in a second though, I predicted. He staggered back, gaining some distance, but I couldn't let him focus. I pounced, using a bear-hug. The man let me. He was bigger than me… he probably thought he could shake me off… and if I was close, he could lay some hurt on me. He was probably stronger than me, I acknowledged, locking my arms under his elbows, but I cared little for raw muscle. My mistress was leverage.
I just hoped he didn't try to headbutt my nose. It was within reach… and I couldn't do anything about that at the moment.
"I'm really sorry about this," I said, embarrassed… which just confused the man for another moment… then his eyes bugged open, and he screamed, trying to break free… to claw at his ear.
Yeah… Esplin still wasn't numbing anything, it looked like.
Sort of worse than getting a tooth pulled… in slow motion.
Then someone got a hold on me, and ripped me away.
Shit… heroic bystanders…
He was a big-un too. Lots of tattoos, mostly of women, I think, in the brief moment I saw them, before the ham-sized fist tried to redecorate my face. He wasn't fat either… I wasn't that lucky.
"Holy crap!" I squeaked, slithering around the fist clutching my shirt, evading the pile driver, although my thin cotton shirt didn't survive the maneuver… but I was free.
Seriously though, the guy looked like he should have been on my side.
"Let's just calm down there, Tiny," I said soothingly.
"Tiny" didn't listen. So I darted forward, jabbed him in the eyes with my thumbs, and ran like hell.
Esplin 1894:
I tried to ignore the whimpering host's mind, as I integrated myself. The mind was felt right… and thoroughly wrong. Just close enough, but nothing was in the right place. I fumbled for control, and gingerly sat up. Thomas Hamilton (junior), shook his head, and climbed to his feet. I didn't have time to revel in the control… and headed straight for the patrol car. The keys were on my belt, where I'd left them, before coming in for a quick lunch break. Thomas Hamilton began to pray.
[Look… this will all be over soon, and then you can go back to your life] I said, distracted, as I glanced through his memories, familiarizing myself with the functions of the different switches within the car.
Thomas was a good Baptist boy… and he was under the terrified assumption that I had just… possessed him. An unclean spirit… or a demon. I considered the implications for a moment… then set them aside.
[You really should relax, Thomas. I'm an alien… not a demon] I growled.
The man's panic was beginning to fade into deep seated fear… something that wasn't mutually exclusive to rational thought… which were turning to half forgotten movies. Bodysnatchers… or something similar.
[Close enough] I agreed, [But I'm just borrowing, alright?]
[Why?] Thomas asked tentatively, unused to communicating mind to mind.
[You don't need to know that. Soon this will be just a bad dream] I lied.
If we didn't succeed, then this would not remain a dream long… but simply be a taste of the future, should the Empire triumph.
