"They call themselves Animorphs," Tom announced. Or at least, as I'm sure is painfully obvious by now, the Yeerk in Tom's head. Exas One-Oh-Six, but that was just his name, now, not his rank. Despite the losses taken during the battle with the National Guard, Exas had somehow managed to put a positive spin on everything to Visser One. The Visser didn't strike me as being easily manipulated, but Exas had a way with him, a finesse, that no other Yeerk had been able to manage. And so Exas One-Oh-Six was now Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine. The rank came with a prestigious position, as well – Chief of Security for the Yeerk Pool ship, which was still in orbit around Earth. He had a personal Bug fighter at his disposal and three Gedd-Controller attendants, and was scheduled to formally take the post later in the evening.
We were in the school cafeteria, with Sharing pamphlets and fliers all around us. Should any non-Controller walk by or step in, it would look like nothing more than a meeting to plan the Sharing's student club outings. But the haggard faces of the Yeerks around the table were anything but jovial. Their hidden invasion plans were bursting at the seams, and it showed.
"There are at least four human children that we know of. Jake Berenson, my host's younger brother, leads them. Cassie Godfrey, Rachel Garner and Marco Stalnaker have also been identified from photo surveillance in the governor's mansion and the California School for the Blind." He sighed. The reports he had gotten from Yeerk Intelligence about the rebels' actions in the Governor's office were obviously disturbing to him in every detail. "Marco and family were supposed to have been killed almost a year ago. Several Yeerks have been brought in for questioning regarding the discrepancy. They may be part of the traitorous resistance movement that's been growing within our ranks."
I knew about the resistance movement, of course. As I've said, my Yeerk was pretty high up in the hierarchy. Almost certain to be placed in command of the squadron, now that Tom's Yeerk was moving on. But I never really understood why there were Yeerks resisting. I guess I'd always assumed it was like any other war, where people turned sides for money or better power. Certainly I knew that in the larger war, the one between the Andalites and the Yeerks, there were double-agents on both sides. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that humans just didn't have the kinds of things that one traditionally offers a traitor. Not really. We weren't even really doing much in the way of space travel. All we had was the still under construction International Space Station, which already had a small Kandrona and a crew of three human-Controllers.
A kid I didn't recognize raised his hand. "I thought there were over twenty rebels in the battle at the school, where you got the cube?"
Orkath nodded my head in agreement. "Yes, I was mobbed by a group of rebels a few days ago, and they still maintained the need to demorph away from our view. There must still be some humans hiding within their society."
Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine nodded. "We believe that after my host's parents were taken and they were driven underground, these Animorphs responded by attempting to increase their numbers. The security camera at the school for the blind clearly shows them recruiting one of the kids, a girl named Elena Porter-Mims. Security failed to locate her after the attack." He put the papers down. "There are also at least two Andalites, one of whom fights in his natural form and the other using a hawk morph predominantly. We have to assume that the Andalites have another morphing cube and that attempts to increase members of the human resistance will also increase."
Ulie shrugged. "Such a very un-Andalite move, sharing their technology with these humans. Are they, perhaps, a rogue faction of the Andalite military? Perhaps they could be persuaded to join us?"
Tom shook his head. "Several times, the term 'Prince Jake' was heard in the bandits' public thought-speech. For whatever reason, these Andalites have decided that my host's brother is their commanding officer, and are likely following his instructions when they spread the technology."
"They may not /have/ to spread it any further," Mrs. Fisher, our seventh-grade biology teacher, complained. "Over one hundred and sixty Yeerks with school-aged hosts, including seventeen morph-capable hosts, have failed to report in since their governor's speech. On calling parents, almost a dozen blatantly declared that they were keeping their kids out on Monday, just to make sure that they'd been accounted for for three days."
A shudder went through my Yeerk and every other in the room. They all knew what being cut off from the Yeerk pool for three days would mean.
Tom nodded. "I want every Yeerk whose host can morph to be subjected to the morphing cube themselves, and acquire a bird morph. Our people need to be able to abandon their host bodies and fly back to the pool in emergencies like this." He glanced around at us. "Any ideas on how to save our brothers and sisters?"
It was Martin's Yeerk that came up with the solution. "What if we go in teams of two, checking on every unaccounted for Yeerk. One of us acquires their hosts and morphs them, 'sits in' for them while the other gets the Yeerk back to the pool."
Tom raised a curious eyebrow. "Not a bad idea." He turned to the rest of us. "Tie the real host up and have the Yeerk abandon it, it'll be easier to fly the Yeerks in and out of places."
My Yeerk glanced at Martin, impressed, and I couldn't help but wonder if he had seen Eric. The Yeerk in Eric's head had brought him home, I knew that much. But I didn't know anything about how Eric was adjusting, or more importantly, what he thought of me for leading him down the path to infestation. It was foolish to think Martin would know, of course. No, I would have to wait until I was in the cages with Eric to find any of that out.
Tom gestured towards me, confirming what Orkath and I had suspected. "Orkath is going to be taking charge of this unit once I move on, so take all your instructions from him." He turned to me. "There may be something of a ceremony once things calm down a bit, but for now, consider it a field promotion." He rose and placed his hands on my shoulders, a human way of showing support. "Orkath is hereby promoted to the rank of Sub-Visser, designation Eighty-Three."
«A Sub-Visser!» Orkath cried to me, elated. «Finally, some /real/ authority!» Out loud, he kept himself a little bit more composed. "I shall do my duty to my people, Sub-Visser."
Tom's pleased grin flashed across his face, the same look I saw when the true, real Tom had been feeling pride for Jake. "May the light of the Kandrona shine on you, Sub-Visser Eighty-Three." He raised his head to take in the entire group. "Report to the pool tonight to begin carrying out your assignments. Dismissed."
I sighed at Orkath. «Congratulations,» I murmured. «Now I suppose you'll get to hurt and kill my people more effectively.»
«It won't be like that,» Orkath lectured, as he stood my body up and stretched my arms out. «Now I'll have a hand in writing policy, not just enforcing it. I'll sit at the Visser's executive staff holdings. I'll be able to do things in a more Yeerkane way.»
«You mean 'humane',» I corrected. «Yeerkane would be the aggressive way.»
«Yeerks can be considerate, too,» Orkath insisted.
If I'd had control of my eyes, I'd have rolled them. «Wouldn't that be a little too out of the closet for you, old friend? A bit like me saying, 'Oh, I'm not gay, I'm just making really close friends with the new gay boy at school.'»
«Some straight humans do that, do they not?» Orkath mused.
«Yeah,» I conceded, «but most people make assumptions anyway. Even if they have girlfriends, people just say they're bi. It takes a lot of courage.»
«Are you implying that I am without a lot of courage?» Orkath inquired. Surprisingly, he didn't seem offended.
«Not that kind of courage,» I affirmed. «You were terrified of what they'd think of you for liking /baseball/, remember?»
Orkath sighed. «Very well, human,» he admonished. «If you doubt my courage, at least you certainly can't doubt my cunning, mmm?»
With a flash, Orkath replayed my memories of just that morning, after we'd been told that Craig was alive and at the rehab center. The detectives were again questioning my mom, but Orkath and I were so lost in memories of Craig and my joy at finally knowing that I /had/ saved him that we were only half-listening.
"You're sure you don't have a more exact address for the Toziers?" one detective was asking.
My mom nodded. "All I know is that they went to stay with relatives in Nebraska six months ago," she repeated for them. "They were so distraught when Craig was lost… I think they wanted to get away, for awhile."
My brother said the words I couldn't say. "Could we take him in, mom?" He gave the detectives his best 'puppy dog' look. "At least until you find his parents?"
The lead detective shrugged. "That depends on the center's staff, son." He looked at me. "We'll probably come to pick you up from school on Tuesday," he told me. "The staff assured me that it would be better to go on a weeknight. Too many visitors crowding the place on weekends. Mostly for the younger kids, but they'd still spread the staff too thin."
Orkath nodded my head, a little relieved. He'd been afraid that he was going to miss his Yeerk meeting. "Should I bring anything?" he asked, making my voice sound meek.
My mom grinned broadly. "Of course we'll get something for you to bring him, sweetheart! He's going to be very happy to see you after all this time." She moved to my side and put her arms around me, too. It'd been a long time since I'd felt that, my brother on one side, my mom on the other, giving me all that support. I tried to concentrate on holding that feeling, remembering it, so that I could recall it when I felt sad or alone.
Of course, there's some unwritten rule that whenever families get too hopeful in situations like that, the detectives have to go from good news bearers to buzz kill. "Bear in mind," he told us, "We're…" He stopped when he noticed the horrified look that Orkath put on my face. For a moment, he stared at us, puzzled. Then it hit him. "Oh, right. 'Bear.' Sorry, wrong choice of words." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, uh, remember, we're /mostly/ sure it's him, but it might not be. That's why we need you to come up and identify him." He shrugged. "Plus, we believe there are a lot of holes in his memory. He might not recognize you right away."
Orkath shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not afraid," he declared boastfully. "If he doesn't remember, I'll help him remember."
The detectives meandered towards the door, a subtle suggestion that their work was finished. As my mom moved to make the standard, casual conversation that adults make when they're parting company, my brother dragged me off into my room.
As soon as we were there, he closed the door, stared at me, and announced, "AHA! I've got you, Yeerk!"
For a moment, my heart fluttered. Orkath was jolted with fear, paralyzed with shock, staring at my brother in horror. But then he noticed the wide grin that was spread across my brother's face, and my spirits fell yet again.
Joking. My brother was joking around, mocking what he'd heard on the TV. He hadn't even the vaguest notion that he was right, that there really was a Yeerk wrapped around my brain.
Quickly, Orkath grabbed a pillow from my bed and tossed it at my brother. "You'll never take me alive, human!" he bellowed, exaggeratedly.
Being my brother, of course, the response was to instantly tackle me on the bed, ruffling my hair and running his fingers rapidly along my sides. The Yeerk convulsed madly, giggling escaping from him. Yeerks have a greater degree of control over the host body than the host would naturally. I guess it's because they're tapped into the brain's systems, so to speak, so they can control things like heart rate and breathing better than a human being could on his or her own.
But one thing the Yeerk had no control over was that fact that I was born very, very ticklish.
"Chance!" he whined, kicking at the bedspreads. "C'mon, stop!"
"Not until I tickle that Yeerk out of you!" my brother replied, waving one arm around like a champion wielding a sword while the other continued a furious attack on my ribs.
As the Yeerk finished playing back the memory, I realized something about that moment. Right then, Orkath One-Seven-Two of the Hett Simplatt pool was happy. He knew that Chance was trying to cheer me up, get my mind off the worries of what a reunion with my friend would be like, and he liked that feeling. He liked the idea of being part of my family. When he had to make an excuse to get to the school, he'd actually been bothered by having to leave.
«You do have a nice family,» Orkath agreed. «I don't know how much longer I can protect them, but I'm trying.»
«Protect them from what, infestation? If it's such a natural and good thing, Orkath, why would they need protecting?» It was a depressing point, but I felt the need to make it. Hey, I was addressing management, after all.
Orkath didn't answer me. I guess he wasn't sure what to say.
Martin followed us down into the pool area, talking as we went. "So… Sub-Visser," he acknowledged. "Congratulations."
Orkath grinned. "Thanks," he replied. "I knew my loyal service to the empire would be recognized someday."
Martin nodded. "So, you're taking Exas' old spot, and I've got yours… but we still need a replacement for Nako. Have you considered Ewell Five-Nine-Three?"
I remembered that designation very well. That was Eric's Yeerk. For a moment, I was thrilled with the idea of having him beside me. But then I remembered Rob, the poor little kid who'd been killed during our last fight with the Animorphs. «Say no, please,» I begged. «I don't want to see him involved like that. It's too dangerous.»
Orkath sighed in my head. «As you wish,» he assured me. Out loud, he replied, "Too fresh out of the pool." With a sardonic smirk, he added, "Besides, it would make my host too happy. You know how they feel for each other." To me, he added, «See? Cunning. I make it sound like I am being hostile to you, while doing you favors.»
There was a time when such little gifts would have caused me to mentally hug my Yeerk, but since our recent bonding in Eric's house, I knew he was capable of so much more than that. «That's great, but you're still going to destroy the planet. No more baseball, no more laughing family, no more relationship with Eric.»
Martin seemed disappointed, somehow. "Of course, Sub-Visser," he replied. Upon hearing his new title again, Orkath decided that he wasn't going to let my pesky human concerns spoil his moment.
Clasping Martin on the back, he said, "Soon, Fonrol, we'll control this planet. And then it's on to the Andalite home world. Won't that be something? All these Earth morphs, moving against the Andalites?"
They approached the bunker in the back of the Yeerk pool where the ships were docked, and boarded the Visser's Blade ship. There, in a special, sealed room, Hork-Bajir warriors held blades to my and Martins' throats while Orkath and Fonrol left us briefly, into the waiting, miniscule hands of the human-Controller from school, Sub-Visser Eighty-Two. Since his hosts' parents' were both killed National Guardsmen, the Sub-Visser had left school and was now in acting command of the Blade ship. I didn't know if his designation was still Eighty-Two, but I knew that he reported directly to Visser One, and that made his rank somewhat irrelevant.
I watched him hold my Yeerk in his hand. It had been a very long time since I'd really /seen/ Orkath, the way he really looked. Just a small little slug, small enough to be held comfortably in a little kid's hand. It was really amazing to think of just how powerless he had made me, for all this time.
The human-Controller laid my Yeerk and Martin's on top of the morphing cube, and we watched their bodies jolt at the sensation. Then he picked them up again, and turned towards us. "Hold out your hands, palm down," he ordered.
Martin and I both complied. Orkath was placed on top of my skin, and after a moment, I felt myself going a little loopy. Calm. Peaceful. It was a familiar feeling, like being wrapped in a big hug, or having my parents' arms around me. Then Sub-Visser Eighty-Two took our Yeerks off of our hands and placed them to our ears again.
When Orkath regained control of me, he reviewed my memories, as was his habit. «Yes,» he agreed, «I do seem very small. What is it that Yoda says? 'Size matters not'?»
I finished the quote. «'Judge me by my size, do you?'» I laughed in my head. «I should watch that movie again.»
«Your wish is my command,» Orkath announced jovially, and before I knew it, he was replaying my memory of the movie. It was like actually sitting in front of a TV and watching it again, just like all of the other memories he replayed for me. I could never recall the entire movie in perfect detail, but Orkath could, and there it was, in my head. Every single second of the movie.
«Wow,» I noted. «Like a VCR in my head.» It was even more special because my memory included my brother and my dad, who were both there the last time I watched it. It was a guys' night thing, my mom had gone off to some pottery class and we were taking advantage. Pillows all over the floor, popcorn fights, wearing t-shirts and boxer shorts and socks and drinking heavily carbonated sodas. It was the most special day in the world, because it was nothing special at all. I remembered my dad snatching me up, looking at me menacingly, saying "/I/ am your father," and then, of course, tickling the ever-loving crap out of me. My dad would have said that it was a day "filled with sparks."
And that made it just a little bit sad for me. Thinking about my dad, wishing I could still see him and talk to him. But it wasn't that kind of sadness that ruins the moment. It just made the memory bittersweet, and made me really appreciate the creature who could bring it up so much more vividly than my own recollection ever could.
By the time the "movie" ended, I was back in my house. In my room, alone. I was crying, too. Crying tears of joy for the memory of my dad, for all the good times we'd had that would always mean so much to me. Or was it Orkath who was crying? I couldn't really tell. Maybe, I supposed, it was both of us.