Chapter 8

The debrief didn't ever seem to want to rear its ugly head. We were abandoned in a joyless waiting area near the main hangar, left to stew with the grotesque taste of failure on our tongues. It seemed that after every effort, we would find ourselves with fewer and fewer pieces left of what made us. Feeling like the elephant in the room, I was quick to demorph and locate the safety of a shadow, with little other to do than look for all those missing pieces. Of all of us, Santorelli, in particular, had always been the hardest nut to crack, so well-versed in resilience from his old career and capable of emersion into terrible situations. Today, he had finally lost, and his military optimism had all but forgotten him. He had taken out a child. By accident, but that didn't matter. An alien child, but that didn't matter, either. He wouldn't speak of it, and he wouldn't acknowledge compassionate implications from the others, but everybody knew the reason for his change.

What made it all worse was the fear of repercussion, and every second of waiting just made it greater. How fierce would they be for our mistake? How much did they prize the rescue of long-isolated Yeerks? Every scenario was thoroughly dissected within those long five hours, from the benign to the outright loss of our cause. It was our first mission with them. Surely they would understand.

We expected Asaccah to come in and barrage us with schizophrenic screeching before casting us out and promptly giving us yet another enemy to avoid. What we actually got was his comparatively stable equal. We heard the mechanical whirs of his four metal legs before he arrived, and sure enough, the fully functional Surote strolled in, looking like he was fresh from a Toys' R' Us shelf. Was he angry? You couldn't tell from his features, but the question was answered with his first words.

"My friends," he announced. "Thank you for transporting me to the laboratory."

We exchanged glances, unsure and confused. Asaccah wasn't with him, but Surote had definitely arrived with the intent to see us.

"No problem," Jake replied warily.

"Asaccah informed me that he'd sent you here," Surote continued, marching into the center of the room. "He wanted to speak to you first after seeing the reports. I told him not to bother. He was displeased. Before you think that I'm taking this lightly, however, I'm not. That was the worst rescue mission I've ever seen."

Jake twiddled his fingers anxiously before tentatively suggesting, "I think we need more training."

"It would seem so. It was always going to be a risk to take you, but we are short on numbers, and I wrongfully assumed you'd be fit for the job," Surote explained. "I consider it a fault on my part. Your methods of dealing with threats during the Yeerk War were considerably different from how we approach problems here today. Because of this, you have my forgiveness for the errors made today."

A collective but hidden sigh of relief, only visible from the subtle changes in postures. Jake, perhaps feeling it necessary - and it likely was - issued our apology. "We're sorry for how things went down today."

Surote bowed his head respectfully. "Accepted. Now I would like to remove you from this room. I'm sure it's done nothing to aid your emotional states. Please, follow me. I will show you the project we are working on."

It was an unexpected invitation, and one we were very interested in taking up. Enrich's inner workings had been a hot topic among us since we first laid eyes on it. Witnessing an undergoing project was something we'd not been granted the privilege of, as our previous visit had been deliberately vague and strategically guided so that much of the ship remained confidential. I took a ride on Menderash as the curious journey through the ship began, up five decks and down three lengthy corridors.

It still amazed me how advanced the ship was, but it shouldn't have come as a surprise. The halls of the corridors were self-cleaning, the walkways lined with the silkiest velvets, and when we walked past the accommodations, we could only stare in awe at the mini-paradises explicitly designed for each unique inhabitant. It was like walking through zoo exhibits constructed perfectly, right down to ambiance and humidity. We were greeted by every passer-by like old friends, with the one exception of Et, who merely huffed when we bumped into him while passing the galley. The scents of glorious foods from around the universe preceded him.

Shortly after the accommodation areas, we wandered by several control rooms manned by maintenance workers. The place was more formal, and everybody around us was clearly busy with their jobs. Surote, infrequently chatty throughout, led us down a set of steps to a space where the walls changed to the dull gray of bare metal. The doorways were sealed with strong clips, and precautionary signs surrounded us. He closed the hatch we'd entered through, and our travel had ended.

"You may have been wondering," he started, "what happens to those we save. What I'm about to show you is top secret. Understood?"

"We understand," Jake replied without hesitation.

Surote continued while slowly motioning towards the largest of the three doors around us. "Our actions must always remain undetected. That's difficult, considering what we do. If we want to save Yeerks and their hosts, we must ensure that they do not leak information about our ship or our people. The Yeerks are removed from their host bodies, and the hosts are kept anesthetized until they are transported to an area we consider suitable. The Yeerks themselves… They're not so easy to simply relocate, and I'm sure you know why."

"Kandrona," Menderash speculated.

"That, and the Yeerk predisposition to take new hosts," Surote added, as he began to unclip the door. "It's a problem, but one that we're trying to solve. In the meantime, we have a temporary solution."

He pushed open the door, and our heads all craned to look into the narrow hole in the wall. We saw a vast, open magnolia hall, with numerous colored shapes and objects hanging from the high ceiling. The doorway opened to a balcony, protected by two thick horizontal bars. Surote hopped through and signaled for us to follow.

Menderash followed Jake through, and as we each stepped onto the balcony, we spread sideways so that we could all get the best view of what was below. We heard them before we saw them, and it was a curious sound. Over the balcony, I could see everything on the floor that dropped about four meters below us. It was bizarre… A cross between a refugee center and a kids' play area. There were large, dazzling screens, shallow pools of water, mazes, and slides. It was all placed around lines and lines of what I could only describe as dog kennels.

And whirring around like hundreds of erratic guinea pigs, tiny robots dotted the landscape. Mini-Surotes, barely a foot tall. They wandered the hall, quizzed through the mazes, and several were riding little red cars, comically bumping into each other or any of the various obstacles in the way.

They talked, too. Quiet, monotonous voices that culminated into a nonsensical drone from our position. Some of them noticed our presence and waved, to which Surote gladly responded.

I couldn't tell the emotion in Menderash's voice. "What is this?"

Surote looked at him. "My friend, these are the Yeerks we have rescued. They are here until we can locate the most suitable home for them."

Menderash couldn't understand. "Why… Why all this? What is the purpose of these robots?"

Surote chuckled. "We seek justice, Menderash-Postill-Fastill. The Yeerks started their war partly because they knew of the senses they couldn't have in their own natural state. Their actions in stealing the lives of others were unjust, but what is also unjust is depriving them of what they have lived with for so long, especially when it can so easily be provided. These robots offer them the senses that we all are gifted with, without the Yeerks requiring a living host body. Here, in this hall, they can indulge all of their senses, and they are happy. Eventually, we wish to return them to their homeworld, but only when we can be assured that they will never again threaten such a terrible war. And I do not lie when I say that they won't. It will never happen again."