Eep, I'm almost scared to post this one cos I don't know how people are going to react to it! I hope you like it! On the plus side, only a few more chapters until we wrap up :)
Chapter 27
He's so near, Alloran crooned. I can see him, touch him, smell him... taste him.
With what, my darling? I hissed. You have no teeth. He jumped like a guilty colt, and I knew we weren't meant to have heard his lullaby, his inner fantasies stored through all those years of captivity. He should not have voiced them to us, was unconsciously doing it perhaps from so many years of having every word the Visser spoke through him bawled out to batter the minds of his subordinates. Had Alloran forgotten how to whisper?
He was leading us through the Blade ship, a gaggle of six humans looking perfectly normal, wending our way through the passing Yeerks like we owned the place. A short while ago one of us did. My human pulse was astonishingly loud for just one heart, blood hammering in my ears. For some reason my mouth was dry – it was difficult to do the human trick called 'swallowing', and that was uncomfortable. Our feet beat out a tattoo on the metal deck, so deafening I was sure the Visser could hear us coming, hear the intent in our drumming footsteps, the arisths shaking with excitement as they pushed ahead, following my swift mate as he hurtled towards destiny, picking up the pace, fighting not to run.
Slow down, Arbat snarled. We are all but racing! This will not do – it draws attention. And Jahar, you have gone white. I shot him an angry look, and commented that he himself did not appear so calm and composed. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, his human hair sticking damply to it. He followed my eyeline and raised a hand to his brow, swearing softly when he brought it away. We must all remain calm! he snapped. I caught curious Yeerk eyes on us, and Arbat raised a hand.
"Late for a feed," he explained loudly, smiling disarmingly, and the Yeerks turned away, satisfied. I almost laughed then, catching Farling and Lortif's hollow eyed expressions. If this was what hungry Yeerks looked like then their vile race was truly cursed. However, somehow we managed to avoid confrontation from suspicious controllers and negotiated our way through the nexus within the Blade ship, following Alloran. I knew he would want to be the one to kill the Visser, but I was unsure whether I should allow that to happen. Would it be almost too much like killing a part of himself?
More like excising a cancer, Arbat whispered in my mind, and I jumped. Alloran gave me a curious look and paused for a precious second, shaking with the effort of delaying the confrontation.
Jahar? Is all well?
Yes, I replied shakily, and he turned away, impatient to get on. You heard me? I gasped to Arbat.
Perhaps you subconsciously directed that thought to me, he replied gently. I do not think anyone else heard. As we walked on he stepped closer to me, and for a second our fingertips brushed. His were warm to the touch. I am here for you through this, Jahar, he said softly. For I do not think Alloran will be. He is not able to be your husband at this moment.
And you are? I snorted angrily. For a second his face contorted into something unreadable.
Ah, that is in your hands, my darling. I deliberately stepped away from him, discomforted by the warmth of his presence and by how reassuring it was.
I am not your darling, I said firmly. His eyes caught mine for only a second, and then we turned a corner and Alloran stopped dead in front of a large pair of doors.
You were once mine, first of all, Arbat answered, so quiet it might have been the hiss and scrape of our feet on the floor, except that with that thought he sent me a blink of sadness, arrowing into my soul. I made an impatient gesture with my hand, batting him away crossly. In front of us Alloran reached out trembling fingers to a keypad at the side of the doors.
I thought we were going Hork Bajir! I said, suddenly aware of how close to us the Visser was, his evil presence breathing only feet away.
No time, Alloran hissed.
We're unarmed, Arbat protested. This is foolish! We must morph!
"He'll get away," Alloran shouted, his loud human voice reverberating down the mercifully empty corridor. "There are six of us! We can take him!" Even I, who had never received training in military tactics, could see that this was foolishness, and risk bred of his impatience and blindness.
NO! Wait and we will morph! I demanded, but it was too late, Alloran had already slammed his fingers onto the keypad, those fingers which had been shaking from the delay, and the door softly swished open.
What had I expected? A dark room, with the heads of enemies decorating the walls? I was partly disappointed: the room was in fact well lit and there were no heads, but the walls were not bare. Arranged on them were various contraptions, instruments of...
Torture, Arbat murmured, his eyes flicking like a bird around the room. It was so limiting only having two eyes! I felt like an attack could come from behind, whilst we all stared into the room. In front of us a female figure had turned, startled, from her computer. My breath caught and it seemed that there was no way Visser Three would not recognise us for what we were instantly. Her eyes ran over us, cold dark eyes, and she regained her composure almost instantly.
"If you're here to deliver the maintenance report then you're early," she said sharply. "I do not appreciate unscheduled interruptions." I glanced at Alloran, but he seemed transfixed, staring at her and breathing hard, gulping. Arbat gave him a shove forwards, and we all followed, inching into the Visser's spacious quarters. Arbat himself stepped forwards and bowed to the Visser as she watched, imperious but not impassive, a tapping of her fingers against her arm betraying her annoyance.
"Forgive us, Visser, but we were told by, um, Sub Visser...
Thirteen, Alloran whispered, still stock still in his stricken state.
"Sub Visser Thirteen that you expected us at this time," Arbat completed smoothly. The Visser opened her hands, stretching them so her palms went white, as if to pull information from us with her fingers.
"And? Report! And stop staring like idiots!" I suddenly realised that apart from Arbat we were all still goggling at her. I raised my eyes, above her small human head with just its one pair of eyes, to the wall behind her.
That's a Kreygorian Cruncher, Medrar whimpered. I know what it does. So did I, but this was not the time to imagine the Visser tightening the bolts and twisting the screws...
Stand up straight and look dutiful, I snapped, and the arisths rearranged themselves. Alloran had broken from his trance, and as Arbat assumed a reporting position, his feet apart, his hands held out to mirror the Visser's grasping claws, I noticed that my mate was stealthily edging to her left.
"Visser, we have taken great care over this report, as we always do and always will when carrying out your bidding," Arbat began. Visser Three twitched angrily, clearly missing her tail.
"And your findings are?" she ground out, as if she had a mouthful of glass.
Dracon beam on the panel behind her, Alloran murmured.
Farling, Lortif, Medrar, be ready to strike when I say, I ordered. These bodies are larger than hers. We want to overpower her and bear her to the ground before she can reach that weapon. Arbat mumbled something about the findings of the report concluding his first impressions, and Visser Three ground her teeth. Her right hand reached back, steadying her against the panel at waist height behind her.
Now! Alloran shouted, almost joyfully, as I simultaneously shrieked, NO! I'd seen what he hadn't, standing as he was on Visser Three's left side. The Visser's suspicious fingers had curled around the Dracon beam behind her, and as Alloran shouted and leapt forward she whipped it out, turned it on Alloran, fired and hit him at point blank range. My heart crumpled with him as he fell to the ground, a burnt mess, and I seemed rooted to the spot.
"ANDALITES!" Visser Three screamed, enraged. "Here, in my own quarters!" She spun and shot at Arbat, a better aimed shot which took his head off even as he moved to avoid it. I couldn't even breathe as his decapitated corpse slipped smoking to the ground, as Farling hit the Visser with his shoulder, sending her tumbling and scrabbling after the Dracon beam skittering across the floor. Lortif leapt after it, landing on it and fumbling for the trigger, whilst Medrar launched himself onto the snarling, thrashing Visser. As I watched she turned and bit Farling's hand, with which he was attempting to cover her mouth, and somehow that spurred me forwards to run, and snatch the beam from Lortif's clumsy fingers and grab Visser Three's hair and force the beam right between her eyes and shout at her to STOP stop stop!
She stopped grudgingly, her struggles lessening, her breathing ragged as she focussed on the weapon centimetres from her face. A trickle of blood ran from her mouth, but that was nothing compared to the stench of blood and burnt flesh filling the quarters.
Let her stand, I ordered Medrar and Farling, and grudgingly they pushed themselves up off her and stood back. She remained sprawled on the floor a moment, still breathing hard, and then slowly pulled herself upright. I stepped back and motioned her forwards. Into the centre of the room and away from your computer if you don't mind.
"Killing me will achieve you nothing," Visser Three said, gasping because she had to catch her breath, not from fear. If there was one thing this Yeerk had demonstrated copiously, it was that it did not lack courage. How admirable, I breathed to myself, still sickened by that image of Arbat's headless body falling away. "Where I fall, many more will surge forward, to take my place and subjugate this planet."
Father, Farling whispered, reaching out to the huddle I was ignoring so carefully, the pile of charred flesh that might or might not still be my mate. The Visser's eyes followed him as he shook a shoulder. Alloran moaned, and my heart gave a little hiccup of relief.
"He'll live, more's the pity," Visser Three said calmly, her breath recovered. "My aim was off with him moving so fast." She turned her gaze to behind me, dropping her eyes to the floor, to what remained of Arbat. A cruel smile touched her lips. "Which is more than can be said for that one."
Quiet! I snarled, and the Visser turned her two eyes back to me.
"And you must be Jahar, hiding behind that human face. Are you planning to shoot me, or just wave that at me?"
Aren't you afraid of death? I asked incredulously. The Visser shrugged. From the corner of my eye I saw Alloran stagger to his feet, a black burn scarred across his right shoulder. He started morphing, grasping Farling's arm to steady himself.
"I have been in a human host for a mere five days," Visser Three said quietly. "And after being with your husband... well, let's say I am lacking a will to live much longer." I took a step back, revolted by the way her female voice caressed the syllables of the words 'your husband'.
You killed Arbat, I whispered. Arbat, who came out of loyalty to me. Arbat, whom I had jilted and yet still followed me and offered comfort and love again and again, even when it was thrown back in his face. Bitter Arbat, mocking Arbat, claver Arbat with his plans and schemes, undone by his brother's impatience. Lost forever, like Kipsing, along with my daughter's brief dream of romance and his own of glory and land. The Dracon beam shook in my hand, and I couldn't stop a sob escaping me, shaking my shoulders.
"Alloran always wondered if you two comforted each other in his absence," Visser Three commented, mockingly. "I use to tease him by feeding him images of you both, and he called me a fool." She glanced triumphantly at Alloran, back in his Andalite body and shaking his head as if to clear it of a buzzing. "It appears that I was right and you were the fool after all, my pet." He cracked his tail in agitation.
Do NOT call me that! Visser Three snorted, a pitying, superior sound which kindled angry madness in my mate's eyes.
Alloran, I warned, and he checked himself. For a second there I really thought he would have rushed forwards and ended it.
What is the delay Jahar? he said angrily. Finish this now then, if you won't have me do it. The beam trembled in my finger, warm. It seemed to be humming with Arbat, his voice, his whispers, his hoofbeats and old, dusty kisses. I still couldn't hold the thought that he was truly gone. Visser Three tilted her head, questioning.
"Will she, won't she? Does she still love you Alloran? Would she if I told her all your little secrets?" Alloran gave an incoherent snarl, his rage battering all of our minds, and the Visser laughed.
Mother? Farling said uncertainly, and I realised that he was staring at me, and the other two arisths, frozen, waiting for me. I'd dragged them halfway across the universe, deep into a fight adult warriors would have shrunk from and I had absolutely no idea what to do with them. A strange desire to laugh filled me, but my chest was too full, too constricted, and I thought instead I might cry. Why are you waiting? Farling asked.
I have waited all my life, and delayed, and prevaricated. Is it my fault, my weakness? I would not pursue Alloran when I realised I loved him, I did not pursue him for years when he was enslaved, and now again I stood on the threshold of committing myself and waited.
The world can wait, but not as I can. Nothing waits as long as I can, waiting without patience, teasing my soul into little shreds.
Kill him and end it.
And what? Go home? It was unlikely Alloran would leave – he'd want to stay and fight. Would I wait? Again? For him.
Arbat waited for me, and see how he was rewarded.
Arbat, oh Arbat! Gone, gone and all my fault.
Jahar? Voices were calling. If I waited a little longer it'd be out of my hands. Alloran would lose patience, would step in and deliver that final blow. A blow he had no right to deliver, because it was me Visser Three stole from, me who had suffered alone all these years and me who deserved vengeance.
"I think she did love Arbat, you know," Visser Three said conversationally. She turned to Alloran. "It really wouldn't be surprising when you consider how you treated her."
"That is none of your business," I snarled, a shriek which made the Visser jump and spin back to face me. "And it never was!" I held the Dracon beam with a steady hand now, and squeezed the trigger.
TSEWW!
And in that instant I was spinning, whirling and flying through darkness, through an endless now, alone and lost, shocked and screaming, Alloran? Alloran!
"Be calm, Jahar,"a voice said gently, a voice resonating warmth. A floor of some sort appeared beneath my hooves (somehow I was in my own Andalite body again), a sandy ground for me to stand on. I felt less frightened with a surface beneath me, as the three dimensions reasserted themselves. Darkness stretched out on all sides of me, only it was not complete darkness because when I looked up I saw stars I did not know glinting above me.
Where am I? I whispered.
"A dead world, a million galaxies from your own," the voice replied. "I brought you here because it has an atmosphere that will support you during our discussion."
Discussion, I repeated dumbly. I felt exhausted, drained by the cathartic decision to pull that trigger and kill Visser Three, too empty to feel true fear or confusion. Are you the Ellimist? I asked. I've always believe the Ellimist existed.
"And you are correct in that belief," the voice replied. "But I am not the Ellimist. I am another." Fear came now, flooding through me in cold waves.
Crayak then, I whispered. My knees trembled at the thought of the unmentionable horror which permeated Andalite myths and bedtime stories.
"I am not Crayak either," the voice corrected. "You play Conquest, Jahar, so you will understand who I am."
The third, I ventured.
"Yes," the voice agreed. "The Third." The third player, weaker than the two dominant players but just as important, courted by both and forging alliances, prancing on the edge of ruin and hoping, just hoping that one day their time would come, when the two great powers tore each other to bits and left a crack for someone small to sneak in.
Can I see you? I asked, and this time there was a pause before the reply came.
"I will assume a form amiable to your perceptions of life." I twisted my stalk eyes round and readied my tail (for what good that would do me!). Glancing behind me proved unnecessary, when suddenly in front of me The Third appeared. It seemed to form itself out of nothing, a dark splot in the air twisting and then pushing outwards into limbs, a torso, a head, a tail.
An Andalite? I said, surprised.
"Only an appearance I have assume so as to communicate more easily with you," The Third replied. Somehow, despite the fact that it had no mouth (as any Andalite) the words were still definitely spoken audibly, to the air. I shifted nervously.
What do you want with me? The Third tipped its Andalite head to the side.
"Jahar, you must believe me. I am trying to help you."
Help me?
"You are a good creature Jahar, with a noble heart and good intentions. You are the sort of creature we all like to use in this game. Ellimist, Crayak, me. We all have our champions, creatures whom we pick and watch over, whom we shepherd towards our aims." It hesitated, and then said, "War Prince Elfangor was one of the Ellimist's favourite champions. He always seems to favour the tortured heroes."
What is your aim? I asked cautiously. If, as the legends say, the Ellimist offers hope and Crayak offers destruction then what are you?
"An opportunist," The Third replied. "And far more loyal to my champions than either of the other two are. The Ellimist is perfectly happy to let Elfangor fall and die when his purpose is served. I would have saved him."
And why do you want me? I whispered. It seemed frightening to voice the question to such an obviously powerful being, but it had answered me seemingly candidly so far. As it was The Third did not answer my question immediately but instead turned its Andalite head skywards, towards the glimmering mantle of stars.
"I have fewer champions than the other two," it said. "I can not afford to stretch my limited powers too thin." I snorted before I could stop myself. 'Limited'? This creature had just whirled me halfway across the universe, seemingly without breaking a sweat. "I am currently allied with the Ellimist, and he is working to preserve Earth from the Yeerks. He fears the destruction of such a vibrant planet – Earth is really quite unique to sustain so very many life forms on it. I have two primary champions, whom I guard and preserve." All four eyes of the creature were now turned on me. "And through their preservation I keep alive the hope of a future where Earth can survive the onslaught of the Yeerks and be free." My breathing quickened, great gulps of this air no Andalite had ever breathed before, or might ever again.
And these two champions?
"As you have perhaps guessed, one is your husband," The Third replied. Its gaze bored into me. "The other is Esplin 9466, the Yeerk who enslaved him." I stood there, stunned, unable to speak and feeling like I was whirling through space again. How could two such very different people be used in conjunction?
Was it your doing that they came together then? I asked, afraid to hear the answer. The Third shook its head.
"No, I only chose to champion them after that had happened. You see Jahar, there are many futures where Earth falls to the Yeerks, but only a very few where Esplin 9466 is defeated by the heroes of Earth. And of those futures, in only one does Earth escape annihilation by the Andalites, with the intervention of your husband."
Alloran stays as a free Andalite to fight on Earth? The Third's gaze turned down from the stars and back to me, growing even harder to bear, as if waves of heat emanated from those dark green eyes.
"No, Jahar. He is enslaved, enslaved until the very last hour when he breaks free and saves Earth."
How can that be? I challenged it. I have already freed him. We have! That future will not come to be.
"No it will not," The Third said, still gentle. "Because of what you have done for Alloran, brave Jahar, as a noble and loving wife, Earth will burn. That is why you were chosen to be the champion of Crayak."