Hello again! It's been a little while coming, I know, but here is chapter 16. I made the mistake of rushing the last chapter, so I took my time over this one. I'm sure you'll see why. It was quite difficult to write this, so I'd really appreciate feedback for this chapter in particular. Thanks :)
Chapter 16
Jahar looked up at the night sky and sighed. The second and third moons were covered by deep purple clouds, and the lack of moonlight unsettled her. She worried that Farling trotting behind her would trip in the long grass, and constantly kept an eye on him. But there was something else.
Two and three, trouble to be, she murmured to herself.
What did you say, mother? Farling asked curiously. Jahar laughed.
An old Andalite poem about the heavens. I can't remember many of the lines, but there were some about which moons were covered by the clouds. One and two, pleasure for you. Two and three, trouble to be. Farling looked up at the sky inquisitively, the stars glinting in his still-overlarge eyes.
Will something bad happen? he asked. His mother snorted and gave him a playful nudge with her tail.
Only if you don't keep those eyes open wide in the dimmer light.
They finished the circuit of the fields she had chosen for them that evening, and trotted back to the scoop. Farling was always slower on the journey home after night runs, worn out by the exertion. She used the final feed to help him sleep. Now the runs were also proving almost too much for her, and she stopped in front of the scoop and panted, holding her aching sides.
Are you tired? Farling asked sleepily. He was entering the sleeping area, and as she watched he flicked the viewing screen, causing the roof of the scoop to turn transparent, allowing him to see the stars above and the dim light of the covered moons.
Perhaps we will not go so far tomorrow, Jahar replied. She had been carrying the new child within her for a long time now, and the extra weight left her feeling slow and heavy. So far Farling had not commented on his mother's visibly increasing size, but she wondered how long it would be before the awkward questions came rolling in. Huffing slightly, she entered the sleeping area and half closed the main aperture of the scoop. Farling shuffled up to her once she had settled, resting his head on her side. He had been used to sleeping standing underneath her, his tail touched to her belly for reassurance, but now was too tall to do so without bending his neck. Still, he compensated by getting as close to her as he could. Jahar waited until she heard his breathing grow regular and slow, and sent him vague feelings of happiness, to provide pleasant dreams. Then she closed her tired eyes and allowed sleep to claim her too.
The next morning was dim and misty, the chill fog obscuring the far ends of Jahar's closest fields, so that she did not see the small ship approaching until her computer informed her that it was requesting permission to land. Surprised, she saw that it was Vitana's family ship, The Kafit Queen, and willingly gave her permission to land. Leaving Farling playing in the scoop she trotted out to meet her surprise visitor.
Vitana was not alone. Kalladin descended from the ship behind her, and for some reason Jahar's hearts clenched to see them both. They were too grim, to quiet. Usually she would have run to greet them, but their aura of sobriety caused her to walk forward slowly and greet them far more formally than usual. They both bowed their upper bodies in reply, and the properness of the answer sent cold chills down Jahar's back. The mist was condensing damply on her fur, tiny droplets slicking it down, and she shivered.
What brings you to my lands? Jahar cursed inwardly at her continued formality. I mean, I wasn't expecting a visit today, she added, trying clumsily to salvage the cold tone. I thought I was bringing Farling to see you tomorrow, Kalladin. Kalladin stepped forward, as if the direct address was an invitation to speak.
Do you not know, Jahar? she asked seriously. Jahar frowned, and shifted uncomfortably.
Know what, Kalladin? Again she shuddered, unsure how much she was affected by a growing premonition of horror or by the cold dew forming on her body. Shall we go to the scoop? It is too cold to play 'riddle in the fields'.
Vitana laughed, bitterly. Oh Jahar, if only we could be playing 'riddle in the fields' as we used too. Jahar was now thoroughly alarmed, and she turned anxiously between the two of them, both as impassive as the depths of Lake Stilena.
What is happening? Is it Alloran? Is he hurt? It was not improbable that they would know about something happening to Alloran before she did, as he never mentioned the horrors of war in his communication with her, speaking only of his longing to return. And the army was notoriously slow at informing the wives of soldiers of their demise, as official confirmation in the courts was required before soldiers could be pronounced 'deceased'. Kalladin had a brother in the fleet, serving on the Hork Bajir planet, and Vitana's father was also involved in the Andalite military. If something awful had happened they would know.
Better that he was hurt or even dead, Vitana suddenly snapped, and Jahar recoiled at the vicious tone. Then at least he wouldn't have hurt you too. The delicate Andalite was trembling, Jahar could see now. Was it rage? Or, looking in her eyes, was it at some unspeakable horror? Her fiery gaze terrified Jahar, and she turned to her other friend.
Kalladin what has happened? Tell me, she begged, her knees going weak. She felt on the point of collapse, her head light and strangely free.
Kalladin's face was still a mask, and when she spoke it was as if every word was drawn from her by force. War Prince Alloran appeared before a military disciplinary court five days ago, she stated emotionlessly. The findings of the court were that he had acted illegally in the campaigns on the Hork Bajir home world. He is officially disgraced.
NO! Jahar's knees really did give out, as if the vision of her bright future had been supporting her like a pillar and its sudden withdrawal left her unbalanced.
Jahar! Vitana cried, racing to her side. Jahar reached up and caught her hand, her head spinning with incomprehension.
A mistake, she begged. Tell me it was an accident. A mistake. Vitana's face offered her no hope. Instead the terrible blazing anger still glittered in her eyes as she bent down to help Jahar.
No mistake, she said coldly. He's ruined himself and you as well. Jahar twisted her head away, unable to meet the horrific clarity and rage in Vitana's gaze, and instead turned pleadingly to Kalladin, who had not moved.
Kalladin... It was as if the mask shattered. Hearing her name Kalladin shook herself, and suddenly she was at Jahar's side, an equally terrible look on her face, but for her it was pity, such deep pity, that Jahar thought she would die.
There's no mistake, Jahar. He was judged fairly and is lucky to be merely disgraced.
Jahar moaned incoherently. Andalites are taught to control their emotions from a very early age, but she was too shocked to maintain the mental walls. Kalladin and Vitana both rocked as her misery spread to them, pouring into their bodies like cold oil.
He is mad, Vitana said bitterly. It was a bad day for you, my Jahar, that he switched his attentions from me. Her face softened at last. I am so sorry that you, of all Andalites, have to bear this.
No! Jahar pushed her away, struggling to her feet. No! Marrying Alloran was the best thing I ever did! I was lost without him.
You are lost now, Vitana said matter of factly, and Kalladin shot her a furious look.
Control your bile, Vitana.
Bile? Jahar repeated, falteringly. Kalladin reached out an arm to steady her.
Vitana does not like Alloran, she said quietly. She hid it, for your sake.
No! Jahar shouted again, her world spinning out of control. He left you, I know, but he did not deceive you. He did well for you!
So well my family's lands now spread an extra twenty acres, Vitana spat bitterly. Your husband did well indeed for me, Jahar, or as well as a male so anxious to leave you he will pay you can do.
Anger rose in Jahar, and she found herself instinctively coming to Alloran's defence. That's a lot more than you'd have got from many other males! she shouted. Kalladin's hand squeezed her shoulder, and she calmed herself with an effort. I am sorry, she said, more softly. It was always to be an awkward situation, that Alloran left you for me. I can only be grateful that I did not earn your hatred too.
Vitana took a step back, as if shocked, and stretched out a hand to Jahar's other shoulder. Hate you? she whispered. Jahar, who could? How could I hate my friend? I wanted to, but I know you are without guile or deceit. I knew that if you loved him you could not help yourself. I was angry. She broke off and laughed bitterly. Oh, was I angry! What a fool you made of me, bringing him to my fields and then snatching him away. She laughed again, but more gently. But anyone could see he was perfect for you. And now her face hardened. And how perfectly he has ruined you, my Jahar. I am so sorry. She stepped forwards, and Jahar shrank away, unsure if she was hated or loved. Vitana stopped instantly, understanding, and shifted awkwardly. I am your friend, she said softly. But I am not your husband's friend, and I can not help but hate him even more for what he has done, now that he has hurt both of us.
Jahar turned back to Kalladin, leaning into her for the reassurance that she at least had no personal vendetta with Alloran and could give her an honest answer. What happened? she asked, hardly daring to heard the answer. Did he... did my husband lose his mind? What could he possibly have done? In her mind flashed one word, over and over again.
Treachery. Treachery!
But no, it couldn't have been! They wouldn't have disgraced him for that; they'd have executed him for it. What could he have done that was not terrible enough for him to be condemned to death, but for his future to be ruined? And hers too as his wife. What shame was there terrible enough? Incompetence? Surely that only entailed demotion. Cowardice perhaps?
The Hork Bajir planet has been lost, Kalladin said gently. Jahar felt numb. She knew how great the shame would be for Alloran, as the commanding officer, to have lost the Hork Bajir species. But disgrace? In a last ditch attempt to prevent the spread of the Yeerk race Alloran tried to wipe out the Hork Bajir, their soldiers.
Jahar stared at her, appalled beyond measure. The Hork Bajir are sentient, she whispered. Kalladin's gaze did not waver.
Alloran manufactured a virus that targeted Hork Bajir. It was released.
On his orders? Jahar asked, searching desperately for an escape clause. For the first time Kalladin frowned.
That was his defence at the trial, she said slowly. He claimed that he'd ordered its manufacture but never its release.
Sickness roiled through Jahar. What did it matter that he hadn't ordered its use? Her husband, her young, innocent husband, had condoned the creation of a tool for genocide. That action alone spoke of a terrible ruthlessness, an evil she had not known lurked in the creature who used to hold her under the stars and made her laugh and sigh.
Oh Alloran, you must have been mad, she murmured. Vitana snorted, jerking Jahar back to the here and now.
Oh no, they tried that at the trial too. 'Temporary insanity'. They had a physician examine him. He was concluded to be as sane as you or I.
Jahar nearly laughed at that; at that moment she had never felt further from sanity. Still, her mind grappled for an answer, a reason. It must have been stress, the horror of losing the planet, the fear of disgrace, the burning desire for success. Because if the answer was not that Alloran had acted out of madness then it was that he had condemned an entire race to death with a clear head. He was a murderer a million times over.
Did it work? Jahar asked faintly. Were the Yeerks stopped?
We don't know yet, Kalladin said simply. My brother said that it is the belief of High Command that the enslaved Hork Bajir numbers were depleted but that the race was not rendered extinct.
It was the final horror. At least if the Yeerks were checked than something would have been achieved, but the knowledge that it had been in vain, that Alloran had thrown away their lives in a futile gesture hit Jahar like a physical blow. And High Command had condemned her husband for trying to please him. Genocide was terrible, but they would benefit greatly, no doubt, from the depletion of the Yeerk troops. And whilst they benefited they would sneer at her husband forever more.
The madness of War prince Alloran.
Something terrible was happening to Jahar, and it took her a few moments to realise that the sliding, sick feeling in her belly was not just horror.
Vitana! Kalladin! she screamed. He knees suddenly gave way again, as a spasm of real pain racked her, agony undulating through her lower body. Her friends bent over her, calling her name frantically, rubbing her face, but her vision was blurring. From far away she heard another voice calling: Mother!
Not Farling! Jahar managed to say. Get him away. Don't let him see.
See what? What further terror was happening to her, so that her body no longer felt her own? She seemed to be drifting away, detached, floating free, supported by waves of pain, pain so powerful it lifted her up and she felt she could touch it as a separate entity.
Farling's in the scoop! Vitana shouted. She clutched Jahar's arms. Jahar, he's not here. What's happening?
She knew then what was happening. She knew, because in the final throes of agony her brain was just able to distinguish the voice screaming out to her. It was not screaming 'mother'. It was merely a wordless cry of suffering, directed to her and her alone, hitting directly in her hearts, an unintelligible scream of distress.
After all, her dying baby had not had time to learn words.