The planet below had rotated approximately three radians and still I did not know what to make of Aximili's strange questions. Whole land masses had passed out of view, yet Elfangor's name remained clearly in my mind.
So many things confused me; memories tumbled through my mind alongside new information such that it was difficult to tell one from another. The humans morphing, the plot to betray us - no, to betray Esplin. Aximili, Elfangor. Arbron, Aldera. Seerow, even - I could see him still, so certain of himself and his alliance with the aliens, so confident that he was forging a new relationship, helping fellow creatures. I had called him a fool and worse before anyone else had realized the damage, had tried to make him see what he had done, and yet -.
No. Some decisions cannot be revoked, and one that led to the annihilation of so many worlds is certainly such a decision. Aximili made his own decision regarding the humans, as I had made mine regarding the Yeerks, and my Prince.
‹You don't get it, do you?›a voice demanded suddenly.
I was at first uncertain of the source of the words that had interrupted my thoughts. I always heard voices, it seemed. Amongst the humans, there are jokes about such things, about hearing voices in one's head, but an Andalite is never far from mental whispers. This voice, however, was different than those of my memories. It was harsh, it grieved, but it was not screaming and did not plea.
‹What do you mean?›I asked of the bird who was also a human. When I finally located him with my stalks, it was startling to realize how close he had come. His bulging yellowed eyes glared.
‹You don't understand. Ax asked you about Elfangor, didn't he? But he didn't tell you why.›He laughed then, a jagged sound. ‹He was my father.›
I found this apparent non sequitur disconcerting. ‹Who? And how is your parentage relevant to Aximili's question?›
‹God, you're as bad as the rest of them. You hear what you want to hear, and ignore the rest. I said, Elfangor was my father.›
‹But you were human. That is im-.›
‹Impossible. Yeah. You don't need to give me the biology lecture. Forget it. I don't even know why I'm bothering to tell you. You read the letter to me yourself, didn't you? Or he did, anyway.›
He spread his broad wings and flapped to a more distant tree, leaving as he had arrived.
At the mention of a letter, however, an image had come to mind. A small, darkened room, the humans crowded closely enough to make even Esplin feel nervous. He had changed over the years of residing inside my head, Esplin had. No longer did he feel comforted by the press of the bodies of his fellow Yeerks; now even two humans in a small room was reason for irritation. The older male human held a piece of paper, his eyes wide and fingers strangely white. The Henric Chapman host and, presumably, his Yeerkish master, stood beside us, human face twisted into the expression used to indicate great pleasure and pride. He had asked Esplin to come, to speak with this newly infested host and learn of a discovery that had been made. A letter...
A letter from one Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul, Andalite Prince.
‹Elfangor was his father,›I murmured aloud in wonder. That was what the letter had said. Esplin had doubted at first, had began yelling that both were fools to think he would believe such nonsense, but then he had read the letter and retreated suddenly; retreated from everything, even my mind. That was what had gotten my attention, alerted me to the potential significance of what had occurred: Esplin going away.
‹What is it?›I had asked when I again felt his presence in my mind.
‹Him,›he had replied in much the same tone the boy had so recently used to describe Esplin himself. ‹Elfangor composed that letter. No one else would know -- no one else would have any reason.›
‹How do you know? All I saw was vague sentiment.›
‹You fool,›he had sneered. ‹That was the defining factor.›
But that boy, the human boy we had read the letter to...
‹Tobias!›I exclaimed, the name suddenly sliding into place. It was the name the nothlit had responded to when the girl had called for him; it was the name beginning the letter Esplin was certain Elfangor had written.
Tobias. Human and yet Elfangor's son. Tobias.
The winged boy in question glared down at me from his tree.
‹Yeah?›
‹Did you know? Before then?›
‹No. My god, no. I came so close to dying that day - you were there, and that idiot lawyer, and I was so sure I was just going to start --›he cut off, not finishing the thought.
‹Start what?›
‹Never mind. It's a human thing.›There was great bitterness in his voice.
‹Esplin wouldn't have killed you,›I offered weakly.
He laughed. ‹No, I guess not. I would have, though.›
I nodded my head slowly, not noticing what I was doing until well into the action. I stopped abruptly.
‹Catching, isn't it? Humanity?›
I looked at Tobias sharply through my left stalk. He was too perceptive by half. And harsh - harsher than Elfangor had ever been, even to Esplin.
‹I only meant --›I stopped, uncertain how to proceed. ‹I would have as well. Killed myself.›
‹But you didn't.›
His words stung. ‹It works best when done before the capture,›I snapped.
Tobias was silent for a moment. Then, ‹Did you mean what you told Ax? About Elfangor?›
‹Not that he was a fool. But the rest, yes.›
‹Ah.›He stood silently for a moment, adjusting his feathers with his hard yellow beak. ‹Arbron said he didn't know what happened. That Elfangor went nuts, at the end.›
‹You have spoken with one claiming to be Arbron?›I asked sharply. ‹He lies. Arbron is dead. He was trapped, trapped as a -›
‹Taxxon,›Tobias interrupted. ‹I know.›
He sounded suddenly miserable, as if this were to be his fate, as well. ‹I know. He's on Earth.›
I was shocked. ‹He lives on Earth? For how long?›How had Esplin not known? The Taxxons were not as closely tracked as the human hosts, but certainly he should have known of a former Andalite, whatever his body.
‹I don't know. There's other Andalites, too, you know. On Earth.›
I stared at him for a moment with all four eyes. ‹Esplin's Andalite bandits?›
‹Hah. No, that was us. I don't remember their names; Ax could tell you.›
The boy was remarkable. To be Elfangor's son and yet have so little knowledge of Andalites...I doubted he had any idea of the shame he had so casually admitted to. I wondered if humans really did have no capacity for complex memory, or if the boy were simply habituated to being separated from society due to his status as a nothlit. As he had been forthcoming thus far, I decided to venture another question.
‹Why do you call Aximili so?›
‹What, Ax? I don't know. Because Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill is a really long name, I guess. Marco gave him that name, after they all got him from the dome.›His voice had gained a curious tone to it, as if this statement pained him.
‹The Dome of the GalaxyTree?›I asked. ‹Esplin searched for that, but we never found any survivors.›
‹It was just Ax.›His words were quick and hard. ‹Look -- I - I've got to go now.›He spread his wings and seemed to stagger into the air, then flew perhaps five meters before plunging into a dense grove of trees. I could not detect any further movement.
‹Tobias?›I called, but he did not answer. I began to trot toward the trees, concerned something had happened to the strange human, but a projected voice halted me, requesting that Prince Alloran meet the captain in his quarters. It startled me anew to hear the name Alloran, let alone Prince Alloran. My mind at first refused to equate the summons with a request for me to do something of my free will.
‹Prince Alloran?›Aximili called, apparently having noticed me as I stood stock-still on the edge of one of the meadows.
‹Alloran,›I said vaguely, feeling distracted. ‹Aximili, I must leave. Would you speak to Tobias?›
‹Yes,›he said. It was then that I noticed that he had been going in that direction before I had spoken.
‹Thank you,›I replied, turning to walk to the entrance of the Dome. I wondered what the captain wanted finally, three days after our surrender of the Yeerk ship.
As I made my way from the Dome to the captain's quarters, it struck me again how very long I had been away from my people. Although the design was easily recognizable, everything seemed to have been expanded so that the corridors were wide enough to easily accommodate at least three abreast and the doors which would normally be less than a tail-length away from one another were set several paces apart. Thinking I had lost myself in the traditionally myriad corridors, I shut my main eyes and listened, trying to place myself within the vast ship by the sound of the engines and the slight sense of pressure drop as one approached the inner bowels of the ship. Both seemed to indicate I was where I had supposed myself to be: aristh quarters.
As if in confirmation, one of the doors further along the too-wide hall opened and a small figure stepped out. Was the war effort so far gone that they had taken to recruiting children? This one could hardly be old enough to have even begun learning tail-to-tail combat; his blade was hardly more than a hand wide. It was ridiculous. Aximili, even now just four years old, looked older than this. Why, the child was still largely furless, his skin still tinged purple -.
Purple. Purple.
He was a female.
With that realization, I nearly tripped on my own hooves.
Poor training, I thought as her stalks whipped around to stare at me. She ought to have known I was in the corridor before ever stepping out, ought to have heard my hoof-steps along the metal flooring.
‹Aristh,›I snapped, hoping to startle her to her senses. It was a preposterous idea, but there could be no other explanation for her presence. Her eyes widened and she moved away from me, stepping sideways awkwardly in an attempt to keep all four eyes on me at once.
‹War Prince,›she said, voice trembling. ‹I was just -.›
‹Alloran!›
I had been watching Offeran-Jibril-Castant's approach, but had hoped he would turn before our paths intersected.
‹Offeran.›
The girl had started again at Offeran's exclamation, stalks swinging to look at him, then back to me. Now she almost jumped, as if we had conspired to trap her between us.
‹Aristh,›Offeran said coolly. ‹You may proceed to the Dome.›
‹Yes, Prince Offeran. Yes, sir,›she replied, glancing toward me again with an expression of panic that did not bode well, I thought, for any plans I might have of rejoining Andalite society myself. I moved to one side of the corridor to let her pass, but still she seemed to slide along the far wall as if I were dangerous. Offeran made a dismissive gesture behind her back, safe from her stalks as she never turned them in her rush down the hall.
‹It is ridiculous,›he sneered. ‹It is bad enough when the Academy sends us half-trained children. For a female to be allowed on a Dome ship...›he made a scoffing motion with one hoof. ‹Some day she will die from a mistake a male would never have made, and the Electorate will use it as an excuse to send more of them. Fools, all of them.›
I did not respond. Perhaps he was correct about this female, but I remembered the girl on the Blade ship who had slaughtered so many morph-capable human-Controllers before dying herself, and the one who haunted my memories so. Who were they? Could they be the same creature? Even humans aged; certainly the Henric Chapman host Esplin was so fond of had aged since our fateful journey together. But both had been brave, and both had been female, and if human females could join the war - could do as much damage as the girl had done - perhaps female Andalites could, as well.
Offeran must have noticed my distant expression, for he suddenly began speaking again as if I had replied.
‹Captain wants to see you, by the way. I have to train that lovely little aristh who just slunk by - try to get her to think of where her blade is before she kills someone else with the thing - or worse.›
With that, he clomped off down the corridor, perhaps annoyed that I had not responded more enthusiastically.
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.A/N: Two points. First off, if she's reading this: thank you again, Eppy, for beta'ing this chapter; I really appreciate your comments. Secondly - just to avoid a possible complaint - I'd like to note that I do know that Chapman's first name isn't Henric. Props to you for noticing one of Alloran's little quirks. :)