Christopher Windward

The events of the following day were easy to piece together, after the war. Jake flew back to the other Animorphs to tell them about the Taxxon defection and then the primary Animorphs waited for sunset, so that they could deliver their stump speech to the Taxxon multitude. The Auxiliary Animorphs also waited for sunset, at which point Craig rejoined Eric at their prior meeting place and set out together towards Ground Zero, where Chance had told me the Kandrona was still somehow being hidden despite the lack of any actual buildings to hide it in. So at the appointed time, I also morphed to my golden eagle and took off towards the Yeerk Pool ship.

The problem, however, was that the Yeerks had created that circle of complete devastation for a reason. The specific reason of catching any morph-capable intruders entering the perimeter. Hork-Bajir-Controllers, walking Earth's surface openly for the first time, were patrolling in force on the scorched ground, while at least six Bug Fighters flew around the edges of the circle shooting any living thing that dared even /approach/ their zone of influence. Hundreds of dead birds, dogs and cats were littered at least half a mile outside the circle as well as inside it.

Getting in wasn't going to be very easy.

I demorphed at the edge of the dead animal zone and pondered the situation for awhile. A full hour, really, which worried me because I knew I'd probably be very late and Eric might think me dead if he had to wait too long for me. But I knew he'd wait as long as it took and, well… better to let him think I was dead than to actually BE dead.

I could think of a few morphs that might be able to tunnel past the blockade, but I didn't have any of them and had no way of easily finding those animals. So I eventually decided my best shot was to blend in as the one animal that was allowed to be inside the zone – a Hork-Bajir. I concentrated on the alien form, idly marveling at how much more familiar it was to me than so many of the possible forms native to my own planet, and felt the changes take over. Blades shot out of everywhere, my second heart started beating, and the tri-ridged horns of a Hork-Bajir female sprouted on my head.

I was not foolish enough to think that the disguise alone would be adequate.

I was an authorized life-form, yes, but one without a team, or a blue armband, or a Dracon beam, and I had no knowledge of what the standard orders for a team would have been. True Hork-Bajir might have been fooled, and it did seem sometimes as if Hork-Bajir Controllers allowed their hosts' dim wits to rub off on them over time, but there would still be enough alert Yeerk brainpower behind those reptilian eyes to put me in a world of hurt, unless I had a good explanation.

Intellectually I knew all that, and I also knew that morphing would heal any serious injuries, but I still stared at the razor-sharp jagged edge of a ruined car for over ten minutes mindfucking myself before I bit the proverbial bullet and sliced my own arm off with it.

I'm sure Visser One heard the scream from the Pool ship's bridge.

Thankfully I knew enough to cauterize the wound immediately, otherwise I would have lost enough blood as to make the severly painful, traumatic experience worthless (and I doubt I could have done it again, not after enduring the pain the first time). That, too, was excruciating, though not nearly so much as losing the arm had been, and it's a testament to Hork-Bajir physiology that I didn't even feel very lightheaded, much less passed out. Either they've got superadrenaline or horribly weak pain receptors. Maybe both, considering that they were genetically engineered to survive falling out of huge trees.

Disguise now complete, I slipped into the engagement area and was almost immediately accepted into a patrol as Hroth Three-One-Seven of the Hett Simplatt pool. The closest I came to scrutiny was a comment, about half an hour into our walk, noticing how nice the cauterization looked, given that there must have been animal teeth marks on the original wound.

"Awful lot of effort for a host body that'll likely be declared useless after your next feeding cycle," the patrol leader commented.

I ignored the callousness of that concept and shrugged with my good shoulder. "Maybe they give me human," I croaked out, trying to sound Hork-Bajir-Controllerish.

That got a laugh from the troops. "Right, like the Visser would reward you for taking an injury in battle. Better hope he's not there when you swap hosts or he might just punish you for making that one defective."

I guess no matter the side or the conflict, the grunts always feel underappreciated.

I was about to comment as much, when one of the others pointed to the ground near us and yelled, "Animorph!"

I turned my gaze and barely made out the shape of a mole with a boy's face and hair receding into it.

«Whoops, gotta go!» the boy cried as the last of his features disappeared and the mole burrowed into the ground.

"Get him!" someone shouted, firing their Dracon beam at the hole. My arm was forgotten as the five of us dove after the burrowing Animorph. I wasn't sure who it was, but it wasn't Eric, so I at least had that worry off of my mind.

Still, it wasn't like I could let the Yeerks stop this boy. My opportunity came when an osprey suddenly shot into the air to our right, and the Hork-Bajir leading the patrol turned his Dracon Beam skyward.

His aim was pretty good – I could see the osprey quite clearly out of the hole I'd made in his head with my primary right wrist blade.

His three colleagues were understandably dumbfounded at the unexpected turn of events, and that three seconds was more than enough to grab the falling Dracon beam and plug another of them in the head. But I wasn't suicidal enough to try the remaining two, not when they also had Dracon beams and wrist blades.

«Go, go, go!» I cried to the osprey, running panicked for the small lump of what probably used to be a car and jumping behind it. Pain barely registered as one of the two remaining troops seared my back with his own Dracon fire.

"Get back here!" one of the Yeerks demanded. Yeah, right. I answered with two short Dracon bursts into the air near my hiding place, hoping that the gunfire would keep them from advancing on my position while I rapidly demorphed to human. I wasn't crazy about my chances of surviving a gunfight for very long, but I did hold out hope that I could keep them away long enough to remorph into something that could hide.

They apparently had the same thought, because they didn't even flinch at the Dracon fire. I knew that because I was still half-alien, half-boy when the car remnants were shattered apart and two angry Blue Bands smashed me sixty feet into the air.

"Gffraaaagh!" I cried out, lurching forward. An oddly-colored blood that was neither human nor Hork-Bajir spilled out of my side. The Hork-Bajir barreled past me and into an almost surreally intact pair of lawn gnomes that now guarded a pavement to nowhere. Taller objects would probably have been handled with ease, but the gnomes were just low enough to trip the Hork-Bajir up, buying me a precious few seconds to finish demorphing. I briefly toyed with the idea of going back to Hork-Bajir, but decided against it. Might as well die in my natural form.

Human once more, I glanced around for the Dracon beam I'd dropped. If I could find it in two seconds, I might have had a chance, but it wasn't where I left it, and elite Blue Band Hork-Bajir warriors don't stop for long over lawn gnomes. Three seconds after standing up, I had one on either side of me.

I sighed. To be perfectly honest, I sighed in relief. Up until then I had adrenalin and hope and fear and even still some phantom pain from the arm (sure, morphing heals injury completely, but I'd cut my ARM off, and psychologically that was sticking with me for a while). But with my certain death moments away, I could finally give myself permission to give up. They were out here scouting for threats, so being a prisoner was out of the question, and you don't morph with two seven foot ginsu knives in arms' reach of you.

I offered one of them a dull smile. "Good game," I said, like it was some little league baseball match and we were going to just be nice sportsmen now. Their nods of acknowledgement probably would have made it surreal to anyone else, but it just made me sad for Orkath, remembering how badly we had fallen out after the Governor's speech. Sure enough, a little kudos really does go far with the Yeerk race, an insight that wasn't going to do me much good because it didn't go far enough for them to keep a human alive.

Still, it's worth noting that as the Hork-Bajir I'd addressed raised his wrist blade, he responded in kind. "You infiltrated us well, human."

I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't see the blade coming. "Make it quick," I whispered, so low that I don't think he really heard me.

What I heard next didn't really process at first – two Dracon blasts and two sacks of potatoes hitting the ground. But I noticed a few moments later that I wasn't dead, and I opened my eyes to find Marco standing near me with my dropped Dracon beam in his hands. All the fear and hope and adrenalin returned with the realization that I wasn't going to die after all.

"Think we're anywhere near Ash Court? I'm looking for a friend."

I smirked, glancing around. "I think the whole neighborhood is Ash Court now."

Marco and I spent the next hour bonding the way Animorphs do in today's world, by dodging fire, hiding in various animal forms and generally doing our best to avoid getting killed. It turned out that the address he was looking for was remarkably close to the area I was supposed to find Chance and Eric. Eric had company, as I expected – two of the Auxiliary Animorphs, Craig and Connor, escorting him through the wastes.

The five of us wound up in one more battle that night, but at least there were five of us and everyone, even Marco, accepted my orders automatically when it came down to tactics and strategy. That made me smile, because I wasn't the one who'd become a Sub-Visser in the last two weeks, but just riding the wave of Orkath's experiences, not to mention my standoff with the military, had given me a confidence and determination that I'd never dreamed I could have. Or was it kissing Eric for the first time on that couch, a week and a million years ago, that had brought about the biggest changes? I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I was a stronger-willed person, and it showed enough to convince others to follow me.

As for the Yeerks, I didn't feel too much guilt over taking a few of them down. It was war, and there wasn't exactly a moment to sit down and talk in the middle of a war zone. And anyway they had us outmatched with more units on the way, so they probably would have won, except that for some reason they suddenly lost complete track of us.

As in, I was in leopard morph ten feet from one and out in the open, and he was looking around like he couldn't see me. Weirder still, he couldn't /smell/ me, which I knew through Hork-Bajir senses was impossible. I didn't marvel too much over it, thanking God for small favors and leaping at him, but halfway through the air I smacked into nothing and fell down.

«What the hell?» I wondered aloud, which definitely got the Hork-Bajir's attention – apparently he could still hear my thought-speak – but again, he wandered around in confusion, oblivious to the nine foot long cat just a few feet from him. Nearby, the other Animorphs were equally confused.

All but Marco, who started rapidly demorphing and called out, «It's about time, Erek. Where are you?»

Suddenly a blond boy quite literally appeared out of nowhere, and standing next to him was my brother. "I've been trying to get in there for a few minutes now, but I couldn't get you all until you'd regrouped." He glanced my way. "You must be Chris," he remarked, looking down at me. "I can already see red hair coming out of those leopard pores."

I was confused, but I can't say I was really surprised. I think I was finally beyond the point where any of the alien strangeness of this war could surprise me. «Do I even want to know how you can see something that subtle?» I asked, continuing my demorph.

As expected, the blond boy offered nothing more than an enigmatic smile in response to that. "Erek King. Pleased to meet you."

«Our contact from the peace movement? I didn't recognize the name, I know you from school,» I remarked. «A year ahead of u-» And then I crossed the line where thought-speak was no longer possible for me.

Eric, a better demorpher than me, picked it up. "Oh yeah! I remember, he was a year ahead of us, right?"

Marco snickered. "Try a few thousand years ahead of you."

"A Kandrona. A real, live Kandrona." Marco stared at the device in fascination, running his fingers along the edge.

We were in a vast underground complex with a bunch of dogs and robots, with Erek turning out to be one of the latter. Glaring around at it, I entertained the possibility that the Hork-Bajir had killed me after all and that this was all some surreal mind-trip I was playing out while dying on the ground. It was certainly more plausible than the actual explanation I had gotten for the existence and nature of this place.

A hostile tone from Marco snapped me out of it. "We need to destroy it right now," he was saying to Erek.

Erek looked at him patronizingly. "I think we both know that that's not going to happen, Marco."

My Eric echoed the sentiment a little more forcefully. "It's not yours to destroy! Chris and I are the ones that saved it from the Yeerks."

I smiled. "Technically it saved /me/ from the Animorphs. Along with Jake's mom."

That got Marco's attention. "Jake's mom is alive?" he asked earnestly. "Where is she?"

I shrugged. Going into that conversation was something I was going to delay as long as possible. "She made it through the fight," I responded. "Where she is now, I have no idea."

"How about right here?" a voice behind me echoed, and I felt the sting of embarrassment on my face.

I turned to Chance. "She's not secured somewhere?"

Erek turned and chided me. "This is a place of sanctuary, Mister Windward. We don't leave people bound and gagged."

Marco swung around at me angrily, grabbing my shirt collar. "Bound and gagged?" he asked, seriously ready to pound me, when Erek stepped over and placed a hand on his arm.

"Nor do we allow violence in this place, Marco. This is a sacred sanctuary." For some surreal reason, he gestured at the nearest dogs, who were obligingly peeing on one of the underground alien trees, like they somehow reinforced the point.

"You can't stop me," Marco snapped at Erek.

Erek gave him a firm, but gentle, look. "You will respect our home."

Marco gave me another long, angry look before finally letting me go. "Fine. But he's going to explain." He moved over to Jean and gave her a long hug. "Jake's going to be thrilled to see you." Then he pulled back. "Unless you're still a Controller." He turned to face me. "Is that why? Cause I'm sorry, man, I wouldn't have flip…"

I shook my head. "It's not why," I stated simply, giving Jean a look and a nod of acknowledgement. "We just had… differences of opinion," I said, addressing her more than Marco, even though the words were addressed to him. "We never meant each other any harm. Right?"

Jean let out a harsh laugh. "Right. No harm. You just infes…." She sighed. "Whatever. Not important now. You still have that to get rid of." She gestured to the Kandrona.

Mister King spoke up for the first time. "The device is already supporting Yeerks. All the Chee who had taken Yeerk prisoners have released them into a pool here. This device belongs to the Chee now, and finally allows us a nonviolent way to contain the Yeerk threat."

Marco pointed harshly at the device. "That thing isn't going to make the Pool ship stop shooting at us from orbit or prevent the Pool ship's Kandrona from feeding a new Earth-based Yeerk pool. It's not going to stop anything." He turned to Erek. "But you might. Jake needs you."

Erek shrugged. "I don't think there's much left that I can do for Jake."

"You can come back to camp with me and listen to him," Marco insisted. "You owe him that much, at least."

Erek shook his head. "I'm the one who's been doing you favors for three years, Marco. I don't owe you anything."

Marco gestured around him. "You're guests on our planet. That's five thousand years' worth of rent, and just for starters." He shrugged. "Besides which, if you don't project illusions to get me home, I'm probably going to get shot. And that would be on your almighty Chee conscience."

Erek sighed. "Fine. I'll escort you home. But I'm not doing anything beyond that."

I addressed Erek more than Marco, as I felt like all the bonding we'd done had been blown away the moment he found out about Jean. "Just bring Jake our offer. The Kandrona here gives him the ability to liberate Yeerks from Visser One's control, and he'll have our support if he promises amnesty for our Yeerks and anyone who follows us."

Marco answered anyway. "I'm grateful for the save back there, but it's obvious that your agenda isn't the same as ours. I'm not going to complicate this up for Jake when we're this close to the end of things. After we've dealt with Visser One, we'll figure out what to do about the other Yeerks." He glanced to Erek. "Come on. The sun's going to be up soon, and Jake said to hurry." He glanced at Jean. "It… might be best if you stayed here for a day or two. I'll bring Jake to see you as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Marco," Jean replied with a smile and a terse nod. "Give him my best."

Connor, incapable of walking in his natural form, gestured for the unhologramed Chee carrying him to walk forward. "We should come with you," he remarked to Marco. "It sounds like Jake is going to need us."

Craig nodded solemnly. "Yeah. No way I'm sitting anything out after Ray. We're not letting him be dead for nothing."

With that, Connor morphed to hawk and perched himself on Erek, and the Animorph warriors and Chee robot headed for the elevator and up to the surface.

Just before getting on the elevator, Marco called out to me, "We'll be having a long talk when I get back."

I watched the elevator recede upward. "Won't that be fun," I muttered in response. Then I turned to Eric, or more precisely Ewell. "I take it you all assumed Erek was just a Yeerk who sympathized with your cause."

Ewell nodded Eric's head. "Definitely didn't know anything about this place. Even the Pool ship's scanners never picked up the alien metals of the Chee or their facility."

"Our hologram technology fools more than just the eyes. The Howlers had a lot of methods of detection," Mister King affirmed.

"Still trust them?" I asked.

Ewell gave a thumbs up through Eric's body. "The movement would have died without them. They've always been helpful, and always in nonviolent ways. I think we can trust their internal programming really is hard wired for that behavior."

"I agree," I said, smiling at Mister King. "Now give my boyfriend the wheel for a second so I can have a kiss, this is the first time I've felt really safe since this whole thing started."

Ewell, and Eric, obliged for several long, glorious moments.

"So what now?" Eric asked.

I bit my lip. "Now… there's just one more loose end for me," I told my boyfriend, taking hold of his hands. "I have to know. If there's any chance he survived the Yeerk pool, I have to find out. I'm sorry, you know I love you and I know you should come first, but I ne…"

Eric put a finger on my lips and smiled. "I get it. I have Ewell, remember? I understand perfectly."

He sighed, glancing over at the elevator. "You know there's only one way we're going to find out for sure. And the Animorphs just as much as said that they're going to make it the last place on Earth that anybody would want to be."

I shrugged. "It's just a quick look at their computer. In and out. We should be able to get out of there before the fireworks start."

Ewell chuckled. "You humans and your metaphors. So apt." Then, Eric, controlling himself again, let out a long sight. "Okay, then… I guess we're infiltrating a Yeerk Pool ship."