Jacob Nyles:
((You know how I feel about surprises)) I grumbled.
((You'll get over it)) Esplin asserted.
So I let Esplin walk us somewhere. While I tried to think about something other than the Yeerk pool. Fat chance of that.
As we walked, I realized there was something off about Esplin.
There was… distance.
She was… gun-shy.
((Esplin…)) I started, not really sure what to say… or how to say it.
((And what would you say? That you're sorry?)) Esplin asked coolly.
"I am sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry," I muttered lamely.
((I know you're sorry. You don't have to tell me)) Esplin shrugged.
((Then… why the ten-yard broomstick treatment?)) I asked.
((Because… you're my friend… but I know what you are, Jacob)) Esplin said, conflicted.
((And what am I?)) I asked, frustrated.
((Human)) Esplin said softly.
I saw a glimpse of her, behind the wall.
She was afraid of me. Because I hurt her. By accident. I was sorry. I did not intend to do it again.
But I would. I would react to something, something would set me off again…
And I'd burn her all over again.
Who in their right mind wouldn't want some distance from a can of nitroglycerin? No matter how friendly it was.
"You're not a high-yield explosive," Esplin snorted, amused by my arrogance.
"Oh? Then what am I?" I challenged.
((A fire-cracker, maybe))
"Well, that's not so bad," I decided.
((It is if you're covered in gasoline)) Esplin said quietly. We passed another guy who was also talking to himself. We were better dressed though… and much better company.
An hour later, we stopped. I hoped Esplin knew where we were… because I was totally lost.
I did hear something that caught my attention immediately though.
Kids. Yelling. Screaming.
((Playing)) Esplin corrected forcefully, derailing the dark stuff before it could get any momentum.
We were standing on… well, it wasn't quite a bridge. More like a boulevard impersonating a bridge… overlooking some kind of sappy nature park.
Except, there were children below… playing soccer.
((Football)) Esplin corrected.
"That's soccer. Foot ball has pads," I retorted.
"That is futbal norte Americano," Esplin said, using my mouth.
"We are standing on American soil," I growled, "—it is therefore soccer,"
"You had two years of Spanish. Those children are not speaking English… so it is in fact, football… no matter who holds power in this part of your world," Esplin pointed out.
I granted her the point, grudgingly.
We watched for a bit.
((You know you want to)) Esplin said slyly.
So we watched some more.
It looked… fun.
And one team had older players. They were winning.
Fingers carefully touched the back of my mind. Encouraging. Cautious.
((Go. Play. I command it, human)) Esplin said, amused.
"I failed Spanish, remember?" I said, wavering.
"Since when has not having a clue ever stopped you from trying anyway?" Esplin asked, curious.
"Ole," I said ruefully.
((That's the spirit… I think…)) Esplin said.
Esplin 1894:
The human children were wary. Jacob was a stranger. And many eyes were drawn to the scars on our face. That didn't really bother my friend. He liked the scars. He still thought they were attractive.
Idiot.
But they let us play… although the bigger kids did not like this arrangement. They had been winning. Jacob was not good at soccer… so their initial dismay turned to delight. He had strength, speed, power… but was a terribly inaccurate kicker. One of the littler boys on our team, we thought his name was Emanuel, or Manuel, was a good kicker, but could not long hold the ball without being mobbed.
We changed that.
It made Jacob feel… good.
"Go! Do it!" Jacob shouted, awkwardly passing the ball to the little boy. We also guarded him as he lined up his shot.
((Jacob this isn't foot ball)) I hissed.
((I'm not tackling anyone!)) Jacob protested.
((You're carrying a child under either arm. That's probably cheating))
((We saw them kick Emanuel in the shins. On purpose)) Jacob replied.
((And you are twice their mass. Show some restraint)) I sighed.
((I am)) Jacob grinned, now carrying the group of three shrieking, wriggling boys along behind Manuel.
Effectively though, we lost the game. I think. It was hard to tell when no one kept score. They stopped playing when the light began to fade. That didn't really bother Jacob.
He sat on the edge of the bridge, and looked out as the sun was setting.
He felt… riotous. Many conflicting emotions had woken in him… foreign things that I had not felt from him before.
He held himself together with humor… a façade that was only skin deep… like repairing a car with duct tape. That was nothing new… It hid the parts of himself that he could not acknowledge… could not face.
He wanted to hurt people.
Because he was afraid… terrified of being touched inside ever again. I was safe. I was known. I was exempt.
And at the same time, he yearned to connect with others. To have friends… no. Not friends.
I looked closer, studying Jacob…
He wanted something far more primal. Something inherent to his species. Something I could not give him.
I did not look deeper. Not because I respected Jacob's privacy (I didn't)…
No… this time it was because I was afraid. Afraid I would not be able to tolerate the answer.
Jacob Nyles:
"That's it? Three days and I'm a knight of the round table?" Karl asked, both faintly amused and very irritated. Mostly irritated.
"No. Three days, and you're not a controller," Esplin corrected.
"So I'm not an evil body-snatcher. Doesn't mean I'm going to help you," Karl said flatly.
"Why not?" Esplin asked patiently. Patience I didn't feel.
"Because you tied my ass to a chair for three days. An ass which consequently is rather sore right now. You're not at the top of my favorites list," Karl said angrily.
"You can hate me. But you will help me," Esplin said calmly.
"And why should I?" Karl demanded.
"The Yeerks are probably looking for you. You did disappear from an area of interest," Esplin point out softly.
"Yeerks?" Karl asked.
"That's what the tapeworms are called," Esplin said.
"So, basically, you're saying I can't shoot your ass, because if I do, the bad aliens will find me?" Karl hissed.
"They might not find you… but you will have to hide," Esplin corrected.
Karl studied me coolly.
"Unless we kill all the bad aliens," Karl concluded.
"Yes. Then you can shoot my ass with impunity," I agreed, interrupting, impatient.
((I doubt she will shoot to wound)) Esplin predicted.
((I don't really care, Esplin)) I growled. I wanted to hurt something. And I felt sick. Like I'd been chugging battery acid. The stuff I felt before, at the park… it was still there… but it was being buried.
((You might not care, but it's my ass too)) Esplin muttered.
"I need you on the infiltration team. Tin man's useless. He won't go back into the pool. So he's the wheelman," Esplin explained.
"And what's going to stop him from running early?" Karl asked flatly.
"I'll talk to him… but mostly for two very simple reasons," Esplin said, equally flatly. She'd given the idea a great deal of thought.
"First, there is little to no risk for him. If we fail… then we fail. He can leave at any time. Second, if we succeed, then we will have hurt the Yeerks… and with his help, we will be able to hurt the yeerks again," Esplin explained.
Besides, we didn't have enough people to spare one to baby-sit the ex-con.
We needed to show Karl what was in the pool. We needed Karl.
Esplin 1894:
Karl was driving, with Jacob in the seat next to her. We couldn't drive stick.
"If we're going into an alien lair… shouldn't we have guns?" Karl asked, fidgeting with her uniform.
"No. We're not security. We're just delivering food and supplies," I explained.
"Super advanced aliens, and they need groceries?" Karl asked, again.
"Yes," I growled.
We didn't like our uniform. The brown shorts weren't long enough… and I could feel the beginning of a sunburn forming on Jacob's right thigh… since the vehicle had no doors. Karl was in the relative shade.
Jacob didn't like the uniform because of the "shorty-shorts" and because it smelled like another man.
The men we had taken the truck from were being held elsewhere (with a copious amount of duct tape)… for their yeerks to starve. As such, our name was now Bill, and Karl's shirt read Buddy.
"Okay Karl… here we go," Jacob muttered, as the turn-off came into view, and he pointed it out to her.
Karl put on the turn signal, the irritating noise loud in the sudden silence.
We left the street, and began winding through another warehouse district. It wasn't surprising, really… it was economical for the delivery entrance to be here. Where heavy traffic would go unnoticed.
"That one, there," Jacob pointed to a warehouse with spray painted graffiti in a variety of colors on it… it looked like gang signs… but it was actually gallard.
It was a single word: Delivery. Unless you knew to look for it, you wouldn't know that's what it was, the word had been distorted and stretched to the point of near incomprehension. So it wasn't a security risk… Andalite translation chips wouldn't recognize it as script. (Not that they were worried about that here, so far from the front lines).
Karl pulled into the open bay, and a man approached. His face was lined from age, but still looked remarkably spry. He had a friendly face… until he came close enough to see Karl.
"You're not Buddy," he said, startled.
"I'll handle this," I said. We had expected this.
Jacob climbed out, and walked around to talk with the Yeerk guard.
"Buddy got hit by a car," I said.
The Yeerk blinked, startled again.
"Did he get transferred out of the host in time?" the guard asked, worried.
"Look, we need to keep this sort of confidential. Bill is with Buddy, the car only clipped him… but they're getting a knee brace for him. You know how the sub-vissors are with careless controllers…" I sighed. It had been my secret fear as well, while I was working on Jacob's genetic modifications… that I might be sent back to my Gedd host… or worse, the pool, if I failed.
The guard nodded in understanding.
"I see."
"Jill and I were off-duty, so Buddy asked us to cover him, just for today. In a few hours, the delivery will be done, and they'll be ready for work again. Unless the Sub-vissors find out," I said grimly, watching the guard.
He nodded again. Apparently he was friends with either Buddy or Bill's yeerks.
"Had his headphones in again, didn't he," the guard grumbled.
"Yeah. Bill threw it out the window, finally," I chuckled, relieved.
"Okay… well, good talking with you, Bill," the guard said easily, waving me back to the truck.
Through it all Jacob had minded his manners quite well. But then, he didn't really hate the guard… who almost looked like he should be someone's grandfather.
Jacob climbed back into the truck. Karl was watching us.
"And if that hadn't worked?" she asked.
"I punch him really hard, and then look for the right buttons to push," Jacob said tightly.
"Mmm," Karl mumbled as the cement slab beneath us descended on hidden hydraulics.
"Isn't this a little suspicious looking?" she asked.
"There's probably a hologram across the entrance," I replied, unconcerned.
Karl's knuckles were a little tight on the steering wheel.
Reality was probably starting to creep up on her.
We drove down the concrete tunnel… it looked like the interior of a human parking garage, it had the same echo, smell, and general layout: claustrophobic, isolated, and efficient to the point of tastelessness.
There were painted arrows on the ground, illuminated by staggered overhead lights every twenty meters… simply adding to the isolation. Karl followed the arrows, not that there were any branches in the tunnel.
Then that sound on the edge of hearing began to overpower the echoing rumble of the engine.
Screaming.
We heard it first, but two minutes later, it was loud enough for Karl to hear it too.
And she did not look happy.
Jacob felt much the same.
Except for being angry.
But not yet to the point of suffocation.
"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate," I whispered.
((What was that?)) Jacob asked.
((You wanted a quote from Dante's inferno. Now you have one)) I answered.
((When did you do that?)) Jacob asked.
((During one of your sulking sessions. You weren't paying attention to the computer screen)) I smirked.
There was silence for a few seconds.
((What does it mean?)) he asked.
((Abandon all hope, ye who enter here)) I replied.
((Nice)) Jacob grumbled.
((Be careful what you wish for)) I shot back.
Then we emerged into the cavern proper. Karl stared, trying to understand what she was seeing.
"Eyes on the road!" Jacob yelped, grabbing the steering wheel, and returning us to the path.
Karl blinked, and focused on what was right in front of her, closing down, blocking out anything she didn't need to know right that second. We recognized the signs. It's what we had done too.
((Are we in position yet?)) Torfan asked.
"Yes," Jacob said, opening the glove box. Two very rumpled looking sparrows stood within. They wasted no time in taking flight. Something Karl also didn't notice, her eyes glued to the road.
"Park there," I said, directing Karl into an area clearly reserved for transport trucks, on the edge of the forest of shelves.
Then we went looking for a dolly. Some of those boxes were heavy.
