The Ramonite box sealed off in a solid sort of way, leaving me alone with Eric. From what I understand, it's called a Ramonite box because of a rather absurd mixture of human naming conventions and the sense of humor of a species called the Skrit Na. Apparently, the Skrit Na have been making visits to Earth for almost a hundred years, or they were until the Yeerks established a presence in orbit and started shooting down any Skrit Na ships that came near us. During one of their trips they discovered Top Ramen soup packets and decided that they could use the vacuum-seal technology that we use to preserve them to create a synthetic cocoon for Skrit who were having trouble evolving into Na on their own. Since Skrit Na can't make an "eh" sound with their throats, "Rah-Men" became "Ram-On" instead, and the special metal they created was called Ramonite. When the Yeerks raided one of the Skrit Na vessels, early in the invasion, they discovered and stole the Skrit Na technology.
It was terrifying to think that I was in some big alien vacu-seal packet, of course. I sometimes wondered if air somehow permeated the metal, or if, left in here too long, we would eventually run out of air and die. But it was the furthest thought from my mind this time, as I watched Eric meander over to a corner of the box and take a sullen seat. For a full thirty seconds, neither of us spoke, and I found myself wishing for a little of Orkath's confidence.
"Are you okay?" I finally asked, trying to sound merely concerned instead of desperately worried for him.
"Yeah," he told me casually. "You?"
"Yeah," I agreed. "I guess I'm used to it, really."
Silence. Probably only a minute, but it seemed like an eternity. It was strange – I had been waiting to be alone with him, to be truly /myself/ and alone with him, for so long. I thought I'd have a million things to say, but now that the moment had come, I couldn't think of a single one.
"Is… is he treating you okay?" I asked solemnly.
Eric looked away and shook his head no, and I felt a stab of pain at his discomfort. It took him a moment to look back towards me. "I'm sorry I kissed you," he said.
I felt like burrowing into the other wall and dying. "I didn't mean for him to get you," I told him. "I tried to fight him…" But had I? No, not really. I protested, sure, but I never even once fought for control to keep myself away from him, because I'd been selfish, I'd wanted to see him.
"That's not what I meant," Eric assured me, "I meant… well, I'm sure you didn't /really/ want to do that. I'm sure your Yeerk made you."
I turned away, not wanting to make eye contact. "No," I whispered sullenly.
"He gave you control, then?" Eric asked incredulously.
He had, but I couldn't admit that to Eric… not without his Yeerk finding out. "Well, yes, then, he did make me, but he was playing my role. It was my…" Desire seemed like too strong a word, although it was certainly the right one. "My feelings."
"Oh," Eric said awkwardly, and for awhile neither of us said anything more.
Again just to make conversation, I asked, "Did your parents notice anything?"
"No," Eric said sullenly. "They never even knew we'd left the house that night, and my Yeerk has done a perfect imitation of me."
"What about the governor's speech?" I asked.
I could hear Eric's shirt rustling as he shook his head. "They don't believe it."
I sighed. "Mine, neither," I told him, and I described the incident with my brother tickling me, although I left out the part about my Yeerk enjoying the experience. Eric had a soft, sad smile on his face as I relayed the tale.
"What's it like being a Sub-Visser?" Eric asked suddenly.
I shrugged. "Orkath hasn't been one for all that long, so I don't really know yet. I know he's going to get to go to special meetings with Visser One."
"Visser One?" Eric repeated, the name apparently unfamiliar to him.
I nodded. "He's the guy in charge of the invasion. His host body is an Andalite – sort of like a blue centaur with a scorpion tail."
Eric's right brow went up at the description. "Sounds scary," he admitted.
"He is," I agreed. "The regular Andalites are still fighting the Yeerks, though."
Eric nodded. "Yeah, I know that much. Them and some human kids, right?"
I nodded, and explained to him about the Animorphs, starting with the stuff I knew about from before they went into hiding and finishing with the attack on me at the school. I noticed that Eric looked really concerned when I mentioned the danger to myself, and I felt my spirits lift a bit.
He shook his head. "So hard to believe that all of this was going on for two years and I didn't get wind of it." He looked away a bit. "So, will I see a lot of you? I mean, will our Yeerks work together much?"
I shook my head no. "You're under Orkath's command, but mostly he spends time with the morph-capable unit. You'll probably only see me when he gives orders to your direct supervisor." There was another short period of silence, and then Eric slipped over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
I guess I looked surprised, but I smiled anyway. "What was that for?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Just a happy memory for you to hold onto for a few days."
With a mischievous grin, I pointed out, "I can think of more enjoyable ways to create memories." But before I could put any of my lewd thoughts into action, the Hork-Bajir guards decided to break up the party. Eric and I managed one more quick kiss before we were pulled apart and led to the infestation pier.
I bent my ear to the sludge without resistance, and waited for Orkath to touch my brain. It took a little bit longer than usual, but eventually I felt the familiar sensation of Orkath's mind merging with my own, and I realized that something was wrong. He felt scared, alarmed about something.
«You okay?» I asked him curiously.
«Umm, yeah, I'm fine,» he said, but I was pretty sure that he was lying. Still, even though our relationship had become more friendly in recent days, he remained able to keep secrets from me if he wanted to, and I decided not to press. I expected him to take us back towards the topside and home, but he lingered by the infestation pier, waiting and watching as first Eric, then a Hork-Bajir, then a couple of more humans and finally, Tom, was reinfested.
It was Tom that he went to first, as soon as Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine was settled into his body. I could sense that, whatever was bothering Orkath, Tom's Yeerk was most likely a part of it. I knew from past experience that Yeerks could communicate in their natural state, using a language of ultrasonic squeaks, so I further deduced that Exas and Orkath must have had a conversation. There was only one thing I could think of that Exas could say that might scare Orkath.
«No, no,» Orkath told me, sensing my thoughts as I had them, «he doesn't know I'm treating you cordially. It was… something else. I really don't want to talk about it right now.» Out loud, Orkath said, "Do we go up now?"
"No," Tom said sullenly, and I had time to wonder where the real Tom had been locked up, if he wasn't in the cage with me. "We should wait for a couple of the others, they should be done feeding in a few minutes."
One thing I was pretty sure of, seeing who they waited for, was that they were all sub-vissers in rank. I recognized Sub-Visser Seventy-Three, whom I had once been locked up with and gotten Orkath in trouble for talking to, and, of course, Sub-Visser Eighty-Two, the kid who wasn't even old or tall enough for most amusement park rides, but who answered directly to Visser One. There were a few I didn't know, but they all carried themselves with that swaggering, superior Yeerkish air I'd come to expect from Tom's Yeerk. Once the group was about twelve strong, they started back towards the ship docking area. I noticed that there had been a change in the last few days – there were suddenly a lot of Taxxons and Taxxon-Controllers in this area of the Yeerk Pool, eating away through the granite along some of the outer walls. Apparently forming tunnels of some kind.
«What do you think that's about?» I wondered. «Some new plumbing?»
«No,» Orkath contradicted, «the tunnels are too big for plumbing. They look a lot like old Taxxon hive tunnels on their homeworld, but I was sure the Taxxons had already made themselves a nest elsewhere.» He turned my head towards Sub-Visser Ninety-Seven, the only Taxxon-Controller in the group. «He doesn't seem surprised by their presence. Once he's strapped to a translator, I'll ask.» Untranslated Taxxon speech is all guttural and hissing, and only Yeerks who had formerly been Taxxon-Controllers had even the most basic understanding of it. Of course, Yeerks who /were/ Taxxon-Controllers usually remained so, or remained hostless afterwards for long periods of rehabilitation, because the Taxxon's hunger instincts were more powerful than any Yeerk could ever master.
We passed the Taxxon laborers and entered a long, circular conference room. Already several sub-vissers were present, as well as the only Andalite-Controller in the military hierarchy, Visser One. His front hoof was in a glass of herbal tea as he waited for us all to be seated.
«Report,» he demanded tersely. Every Sub-Visser around the table returned with the number of Yeerks that were still unaccounted for from the previous three day cycle. It was then that I realized we'd overlooked something huge – some Yeerks were already one or two days out of the pool on the day of the governor's speech. Which meant that for the last two days, there were already free human beings running around town. Or perhaps left it.
«No way I'm mentioning that to the visser,» Orkath complained, as he reported the number of missing under his control. The grand total was a little over three hundred Yeerks, all definitely deceased. And yet Visser One's stalk eyes seemed to glint in some strange way, a way I'd identify as a smile if it was a human mouth.
«I don't get it,» I complained. «Why's he happy?»
Orkath was radiating depression. «Don't you get it? This is just the sort of thing he's been waiting for. A 'flimsy excuse' to start doing things more openly.»
Sure enough, the Visser's stalk eyes scanned the room and he said, «We cannot allow any of the former Controllers to leave this city. How many hosts did we obtain in the National Guard?»
Sub-Visser Twenty-Nine stood as he responded. "Eight hundred, Visser. And we control just as many in the regular human military, and the juvenile military auxiliaries."
Visser One nodded his Andalite head, a gesture he'd picked up from being around so many human-Controllers all the time. «Excellent. More than enough to seal off this city. Form a perimeter. Any vehicles entering the city will be escorted towards one of the city train stations. Within the next three hours, the southern tracks should be connected directly to the Yeerk Pool, and I'm told the others will be online by tomorrow.»
Sub-Visser Eighty-Two responded, as overseeing the troop movements on Earth would be his responsibility. "Yes, Visser. I presume we should do the same to any vehicle attempting to leave the city?"
«You assume correctly,» the visser agreed. Swiveling a stalk eye our way, he said, «Sub-Vissers Fifty-One and Eighty-Three, you command morph-capable units in addition to regular battalions, yes?»
"Yes, Visser," I heard my mouth reply, as a Hork-Bajir voice to my right said the same.
«I wish you to have your squadrons fly patrols over the city continually,» the visser ordered, «with ground support from Controllers who cannot morph. If any animal comes near the city that is not one of you in morph, order the ground troops to Dracon it.»
"Yes, Visser," we repeated. «So much for seeing Craig,» I added to Orkath disdainfully.
"Visser," a synthesized voice cried out, from the box connected to the Taxxon-Controller, Sub-Visser Ninety-Seven.
The visser's main eyes turned to face the Taxxon, while his stalk eyes stayed fixed on the door. «Yes, what is it?» he mused, already annoyed at being spoken to out of turn.
"Visser," the voice repeated, "I again formally repeat my squadron's request to be made morph-capable and assist in the search for the rebels."
«Sub-Visser,» the Andalite-Controller replied, surprisingly maintaining his composure, «you are well aware that we need those train tunnels laid out as soon as possible. Your squadron cannot be spared from that task.»
The Taxxon-Controller didn't seem to buy it. "Then why not have some of our pool brothers acquire Taxxon morphs and assist? Then the job would be done faster, and we could all patrol the skies for the Animorphs."
«Revolting,» Orkath spat at me privately. «No way /I'm/ going to morph one of those creatures.» I'd never seen a Taxxon do anything but eat raw meat, but I couldn't help but agree with my Yeerk on that one.
«There are already far too many morph-capable Yeerks,» Visser One stated flatly. «I wish the power dispersed sparingly, at least until the so-called Peace Movement members are all caught.»
The Taxxon didn't object any further, but we could see that he was still angry as he slumped into his relaxation posture. The rest of the meeting was all about different contingency plans, but Orkath kept glancing back at that Taxxon. Something was happening, something more than just the Yeerks being on edge, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. One thing was for certain, though.
Orkath and Tom had been discussing it.