CHAPTER SEVEN
My first day of aristh training.
I thought it would be easy. A piece of cake. Just like the academy.
WRONG!
"I can't believe how much homework I have," I said to Frederick on our way to the aristh hall.
"Stop your whining, kid. Welcome to the real world." He quickened his pace and entered his room, closing the door behind him.
"Whatever..."
Once inside my quarters, I closed the door and threw my books on the bed.
"I can't believe this. This much paperwork just to be a soldier?"
I sat down and tried to relax, let my body and mind just calm down...
There you go, Tom... Just relax.. No biggie... You can handle it..
Suddenly, I remembered something!
I grabbed my notebook and thumbed through the pages until I came across my laminated schedule.
5:00 - Shredder Accuracy
5:00? I was late! It was already 5:15!
How could I have forgotten?
I jumped up, scrambled to get the door open, and ran to the nearest drop shaft.
Room 55-6-B.
Level 55. Hall 6. Room B. Piece of cake.
Wrong again!
I spent another thirty minutes just looking for the stupid class!
Finally, I found it. A set of air-locked doors opened to reveal a small field, about the size of the one near my scoop.
There stood an Andalite. Tapping a hoof on the ground.
((You are late, aristh.))
I gulped hard. I was making a really bad first impression.
"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
((I should hope not. Much is expected of Berenson's child.))
"Tell me about it..."
I approached him, feeling the doors close behind me.
"I thought only the Dome had an artificial environment?"
((Certain classrooms do as well, though a much smaller one. This room is built for combat simulations and training, rather than recreation.))
"Where are the other students? Am I that late?"
((No, Tom. You are my only student.))
"I don't understand.."
((My presence here was requested by your father. I am not usually a teacher, but it seems you deserve special attention...))
"Oh, great.. So I've gotta stick out like a sore thumb again.. Just like how I was before, stuck with that grump Peltour.."
The Andalite's eyes widened. ((Peltour? Peltour-Tallanbak-Eshrau?))
"Yeah.. Why?"
((I am Algon-Tallanbak-Sangar. Peltour is my father.))
Great. Way to make yourself look even better, Tom...
"I'm.. I'm sorry."
((My father is old. But he was a great fighter in his day. He is to be respected.))
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
He smiled with his main eyes. That surprised me.
((Do not worry. The 'grump' cannot hear you from this ship.))
A laugh echoed in my mind.
An Andalite with a sense of humor? Now, this was rare.
I was afraid I was gonna have to relive my experiences with Peltour.. Maybe not.
A target appeared across the small plain of grass, very similar to the kind I was used to.
I took aim. Fired. Missed.
I took aim again...
Controller, Tom. Think Controller...
Fired. And made it!
((Excellent work. Not bad at all for a new aristh.))
The class was pretty much smooth sailing from there. I practiced firing at moving targets, as well as dodging enemy fire. Some of the targets were rigged with small Shredders, set to the lowest setting, of course. I had to hide behind tiny hills or crouch in artificial trenches.
After a few hours, I walked towards Algon. I was sweaty. I was tired. But I was proud.
Every target was dust. I didn't know I had it in me...
Really, I didn't...
((Tom.. Your accuracy rating today was 97.6 percent!))
"Is that good? Compared to most guys, I mean.."
((Indeed. You have proven yourself well, Tom. Now, just keep showing up to class... on time... and we'll see how far you can really push yourself.))
That night, I sat in my room, doing homework.
I was still glowing from the Shredder Accuracy class. It was awesome! Daydreams were nothing compared to the real thing...
Then again, my daydreams didn't involve xenobiology and n-dimensional physics...
((How are you doing tonight, Tom?))
I stood up on my bed, peeking through the vent. This time, I was prepared for the stalk eyes.
"Pretty good, man. Shredder Accuracy class was great."
((Ah, yes. I shall be taking that class next season. I loved handling Shredders back home, but I have always wished to take the Tail Blade Techniques class... It was quite enjoyable, as I had hoped.))
"Well, that's good, Malbin. Glad you're liking it.."
((Oh, yes.))
"It's gotta be awesome to have a tail blade... I've always daydreamed about having one, cutting down a bunch of Yeerks.. being a big Andalite hero."
((It serves its purpose well. No offense, but I have always pitied your species for possessing no natural defenses.))
"Oh, we have some. They're just invisible."
He seemed puzzled. ((How do you mean?))
"Let's just say our defenses can be... silent but deadly."
He nodded, something the Andalites have picked up over the years.
((Oh, yes. Of course...))
I don't think he really understood.
If you don't, let me just put it to you this way...
You don't wanna get Marco around my mom's chili.
Sometimes, my dad's task force manages to bring home food from captured Yeerk ships. You see, the Human-Controllers still make and eat Earth foods. Without them, the voluntary Controllers would probably flip out. How would you feel about having to give up pizza forever? No way, Jose.
A few weeks passed.
The classes piled on lots of work, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle if I put my mind to it. Most of the time, I studied in the dome. I liked watching the Andalites gallop, feeding on the grasses. It was peaceful. It reminded me of my scoop.
I was acing both Shredder Accuracy and TFS. That's Tail-fighter Flight Simulation.
What a breeze. Thanks to Mom getting me all those books about ships when I was little.
I thought I had all my bases covered. Nothing could phase me. Nothing could surprise me. I knew what I was doing. I suddenly had all this confidence, this certainty that I had never possessed back home. It was something about the Dome Ship, something that just felt right, like maybe I was meant for this kind of life, as much as it scared me...
Then, everything changed.
Literally.
I remember it clear as day. I walked into Shredder Accuracy class. Algon was standing there, in the center of the field. He wore an expression that was more serious than normal.
"What is it, Algon?"
((You are ready.))
"Ready for what?"
He didn't answer. He didn't have to. I knew what the blue box was, the one he extended to me in the palm of his hand.
It was an escafil device.