Page 4 of Alloran's Choice


  «What do you want me to do?»

  «lf you can, find Alloran and the humans. I know that's what you'd want to do, anyway. But most importantly, get the Time Matrix safely away.

  47 The Living Hive is no more safe from the Time Matrix than any other living thing.»

  «l'll take care of the Time Matrixr» I said.

  «You'll need to take the Jahar. I'll help get you to it»

  «And then you can leave with me,» I said.

  «No, Elfangor. I'm staying here. We'll lose this battle. But there may be other chances to hurt the Yeerks.»

  I didn't know what to say. I guess I felt like only Arbron could decide for Arbron now. «l'll. . . I'll tell your parents what -»

  «No!» he said sharply. «No, Elfangor. Tell them I died in battle. Let them remember me the way I used to be, okay? I don't want them to remember me like this. I don't want them picturing me this way.»

  «Arbron . . .» I said, my mind swimming in emotion.

  «l have some last-minute planning. We've put that yellow machine of yours in one of the tubes. You'll go last, after all our people have been sent. Drive straight down the tunnel. The tunnel is part of the Hive. It will make sure you get to the right place. And one last thing . . .»

  «Yes?»

  «The spaceport will be hell,» he said flatly. «You won't be able to tell the difference between my

  48 Taxxons and Taxxon-Controllers. So don't hesitate. Do what you have to.»

  And then he left. The legs I had cut off were half grown back. But I could still recognize him, moving amongst the other Taxxons.

  The launch of the attack was eerie to watch. Taxxons lined up alongside the tunnels. The Living Hive glowed a brighter red, and swiftly, smoothly, the Taxxons shoved through the slits in the tunnels and were blown down the tubes.

  They were launched at a rate of one every eight seconds or so, down five separate tubes. It took almost half an hour for all the Taxxons to enter the tubes. And then it was my turn.

  I nosed the yellow Mustang into the living, pulsating gap in the tube. To my amazement, the tube stretched for me and the machine. It flattened down and widened out, leaving just inches of clearance.

  I felt the WHOOOOOSH! of air pressure. It blew me down the tube. I gunned the engine and went from zero to two hundred miles per hour in seconds!

  There was nothing exhilarating about this. I was blasting down a living tunnel, enclosed on all sides, ducking my head to avoid having my stalk eyes scraped off. The only light came from the machine's own lights - white, looking ahead, red, looking back.

  For long minutes I raced along beneath the sur-

  49 face of the Taxxon world. On my way to a massacre.

  And then . . .

  FWOOOOOSH!

  I shot into the air.

  RrrrrrEEEEEEEEEEEE! The engine screamed as the wheels spun madly in midair.

  I burst from the ground, flew through the air, and saw, in flashes of explosion and Dracon-beam blast, a scene no madman could have dreamed.

  The machine arced toward the ground.

  WHHUUUUMPPPFF!

  The front wheels hit, the engine roared, I was banged so badly that my elbow and left foreleg were scraped bloody, and the Mustang dug in and hauled away in an explosion of kicked-up dirt.

  Suddenly, a Taxxon right in front of me!

  SPLOOOMMMP!

  The machine slammed into the Taxxon and burst it open like a bag of garbage!

  «Aaaahhhh!» I screamed in sheer horror.

  But it was only one small piece of horror in a scene that will be burned on my brain forever.

  Taxxon cries!

  Hork-Bajir roars!

  The TSEEEWW TSEEEWW! of Dracon beams!

  Scenes of nauseating violence were everywhere! The battle had already raged for half an hour. Half

  50 an hour of unarmed Taxxons against bladed Hork-Bajir.

  It was a slaughterhouse.

  How was I supposed to find the humans amidst that awful battle? How was I even supposed to think?

  A huge Hork-Bajir spotted me and began to run for the Mustang. Only when he got close did he cry "Andalite!" in surprise and greedy delight.

  He leaped at the moving machine. I spun the steering wheel. The Mustang turned sharply. I gunned the engine! WHUUMPF! I hit the Hork-Bajir in the legs. He cartwheeled over my head and landed in the dirt behind me.

  Taxxons! Hork-Bajir! Gedds! All around me! I used the Mustang like a battering ram, mowing down anyone in my way.

  The Jahar. All I could do was head for the Jahar

  The lovely ship stood proud above the slaughter. And there, atop the ship's cradle, clearly silhouetted by the lights, were two strange, alien shapes. Two aliens that walked on two legs alone, without tail.

  The humans!

  Seething around the base of the ship's cradle were a hundred Taxxons. All pushing and shoving to squeeze up the narrow ramp that led to the ship itself.

  51 Standing alone on the ramp was a single Taxxon. A single Taxxon with four legs shorter than the rest.

  «Arbron!» I screamed, as ! slammed the Mustang into the mass of ravening Taxxons.

  «Elfangor! i can't hold them any longer!»

  «Are these Taxxon-Controllers? Or are they your soldiers?»

  «There's no difference anymore, Elfangor! Don't you see? Blood has been spilled. The hunger. . . the hunger! Stop me, Elfangor! Stop me!»

  And with that, Arbron, aristh of the Dome ship StarSword, lost his last shred of control. He turned from facing down the Taxxon mob. He turned and ran for the humans, mouth gaping open.

  52 «Nooooooo!» I screamed. I leapt from the machine and plowed into the mass of Taxxon bodies.

  My tail whipped the air!

  Strike! And push through.

  Strike! And push through.

  Strike! Strike! Strikestrikestrike!

  I reached the ramp and leaped clear over the last Taxxon in my way. «Loren! Run! Arbron! Noooooo!»

  I raced up the ramp. Arbron was closing in on the humans.

  The human Chapman was free. And it was toward him that Arbron ran. The human Chapman screamed.

  Arbron reared back, ready to slam his upper body down on the frail human.

  «Aristh Arbron!» I cried. «Aristh Arbron, you will stop! You will do your duty!»

  I don't know what made me say that. I don't know. I only know that Arbron hesitated. As Chapman cowered, helpless, Arbron remained poised.

  53 Behind me, I saw the Taxxons falling back. And over them climbed and leaped a handful of Hork-Bajir warriors.

  Seven feet tall. Blades on their wrists and elbows and knees. Blade horns raked forward from their sleek snake heads. Short, spiked tails twitching. Ripping bird feet clawing at Taxxon flesh to advance.

  I realized I knew one of the Hork-Bajir. It was Sub-Visser Seven.

  "Ah, so we meet again, Andalite!" he said, sounding delighted. "Elfangor, right? That was the name you yelled so defiantly at me as you escaped. I was so afraid the Taxxons might have gotten to you by now. And I so wanted you all for myself!"

  For a moment no one moved. The injured Taxxons withdrew down the ramp to make way for the Hork-Bajir.

  I was alone against half a dozen Hork-Bajir. Behind me, Arbron, who still eyed Loren hungrily. And with them, Chapman. Whose side was Chapman on now? And whose side was Arbron on?

  "Surrender, Elfangor," Sub-Visser Seven practically purred. "I won't kill you. I'll just... use you. I'll leave this crude body and live inside your head. I'll wrap myself around your smug, arrogant Andalite brain and make you my slave. And with your Andalite morphing power, I'll run the galaxy before

  54 I'm done! It's either that or death, Andalite. There's no third choice."

  I saw Arbron turn away from Loren. He came to stand beside me, a massive, ten-foot-long worm. «Guess we're a long way from the good old Star-Sword, eh, Elfangor?» he said, with a touch of his old humor. «We are one lost, lonely pair of arisths, Tell the Yeerk
scum to dream on, Elfangor. Tell him we are Andalites. We don't surrenders

  «You heard my friend, Sub-Visser Seven,» I said. «You want me? Come get me.»

  In the great stories and legends, that kind of speech always scares the bad guys. In real life it doesn't work that way.

  "Okay," Sub-Visser Seven said. "I will come get you. Cut him down! Cut him down!" he screamed in sudden rage.

  His Hork-Bajir leaped for me. But the ramp was narrow. There was only room for two Hork-Bajir at a time. Any trained Andalite can handle a Hork-Bajir one-on-one. They're fast. We're faster.

  SWOOOOOOSH! The first Hork-Bajir swung his wrist blade.

  FWAAAPPPP! I struck with my tail, and he no longer had a wrist blade. Or a wrist.

  But the second Hork-Bajir shoved past him and got to my left. One of his comrades swung over the

  55 railing and leaped onto the platform to our right. And the wounded Hork-Bajir was still dangerous.

  The odds were getting worse very quickly. More Hork-Bajir were cramming onto the ramp, anxious to serve their sub-visser.

  Battle exploded suddenly in rapid thrusts and slashes. Hork-Bajir blades made the air sing as they whipped their powerful arms and legs at me. Arbron did what he could, but a Taxxon is helpless in a blade fight. The Hork-Bajir just climbed over him to reach me.

  "Elfangor! Lookout!" Loren screamed.

  "Get him! What are you waiting for?" Sub-Visser Seven roared. " He's just one Andalite!"

  I fell back under the pressure. I had no time to think. None. Only time to react. Only time to block deadly blows. I had been cut badly already, and it was only a matter of time.

  And then a new Hork-Bajir stepped forward. «So, how are you enjoying the war, Aristh Elfan-gor?» he asked in Andalite thought-speak.

  I was so stunned I almost missed the next blow. War-prince Alloran! In Hork-Bajir morph!

  Alloran spun. Before the sub-visser could so much as twitch, Alloran had pressed his wrist blade against the Yeerk's throat.

  «Don't move, Yeerk. Don't even breathe,» Allo-

  56 ran said. «Call off your men. Do it, or I'll laugh when your head goes rolling across the ground.»

  "Hold!" the sub-visser cried. "Back away!"

  The Hork-Bajir obeyed. They backed away. I panted and gasped for air. I was exhausted. I was bleeding. Loren ran over and pressed her hands against a deep gash in my chest. The pressure slowed the loss of blood.

  "You're still alive!" she said. "I was so worried."

  «Now here's what we're going to do,» Alloran said. «The two humans and my two friends and I are going aboard the Jahar. And you, Sub-Visser, are coming with us. Once we're off the cradle, we'll toss you back out. How does that plan sound to you, Yeerk?» he demanded, tightening his hold on the sub-visser.

  "Do I have a choice?"

  «There's always a choice, Yeerk. I can cut you right out of that Hork-Bajir and feed your impotent slug body to my friend the Taxxon here. That's one choice. Or you can order your men back down the ramp. All the way down.»

  "Whatever became of the Andalite reputation for kindness and gentleness?" the Yeerk mocked.

  «What happened? We left that image in the ashes of the Hork-Bajir home world.»

  "You were there?"

  57 «l was there. My name is Alloran-Semitur-Cor-rass. War-prince Alloran.»

  For the first time, the sub-visser seemed afraid. His mocking, arrogant attitude seemed to evaporate. He quickly ordered his Hork-Bajir down the ramp.

  Together we backed carefully toward the Jahar. Alloran, with the Yeerk sub-visser in his steel grip; Loren, still tending my wound; and Chapman, the treacherous human who had led us all to this terrible mess.

  Only Arbron turned away from the open hatch of the Jahar.

  «Come with us, Arbron,» I said. «Look around. The free Taxxons have lost. The Living Hive will be destroyed. There's no future for you hero

  «Elfangor, there's no future for me anywhere.»

  «But you can'tr» I said. «Who's going to remind me not to be so stiff? Who's going to laugh at me when I start talking about being a great prince?»

  «You go, Elfangorr» Arbron said gently. «Go save the galaxy.»

  «Leave himr» Alloran said. «Aristh ... I mean, Warrior Arbron is a casualty of war.»

  58 We launched the Jahar. There was no one to stop us. The battle still raged, and none of the Yeerks had the presence of mind to come after us.

  Or so I thought.

  Alloran demorphed from his Hork-Bajir body. I was relieved. I guess he saw my expression.

  «Did you think I had ended up like Arbron back there? Trapped? A nothlit? No, Aristh Elfangor. I am still myself.»

  «l'm glad, sir,» I said.

  Sub-Visser Seven stood in a corner, eyeing Alloran as he demorphed and resumed his usual An-dalite body. Loren seemed dazed. Even Chapman seemed unusually quiet. No doubt he was afraid of what we would do to him.

  He deserved whatever we did to him.

  «Your orders, sir?» I asked the prince.

  Alloran sneered. «Ah. Now you want orders. When I ordered you to flush those pools full of Yeerks out into space you disobeyed me. But now

  59 you want orders. Now you want to be told what to do.»

  I was too tired to be angry. I was even too tired to consider how my earlier refusal to follow orders would probably destroy my career. What was I going to do? Explain to some military tribunal that I, the insignificant aristh, had thought Alloran's order immoral?

  «Sir, the Time Matrix is -»

  «Silence, you young fool!» Alloran snapped angrily. He glared at me, enraged. «We don't have time for that yet. No, first we have to take care of the business you kept me from taking care of. That Taxxon ship full of Yeerks is still in its cradle. Still filled with Yeerk slugs. What do you think I've been doing the last day and a half? I've been hiding in shadows, morphing and demorphing, watching that ship.»

  «Prince Alloran, is that really the most important thing to do?»

  For the first time since he had demorphed, he turned to face me. He glared at me with his main eyes. And that's when I saw the look. That's when I saw the rage. The mad rage.

  «The most important thing in war is to destroy your enemies, Aristh Elfangor. Nothing is more important than destroying your enemies. Do you understand?»

  60 He turned his stalk eyes toward the sub-visser. «You understand, don't you? You Yeerks under-stand.»

  "You said you would let me go!" the sub-visser cried.

  «And so I will,» Alloran said. «Open the hatch, Aristh Elfangor. The sub-visser is going to see if that Hork-Bajir body of his can fly!»

  The sub-visser tensed up. He was not going to get pushed out of a spaceship without a fight. His Hork-Bajir muscles bunched and rippled.

  He seemed to glance at Chapman. And I swear. . . but, no, I had to be imagining things. It's just that Chapman seemed to shake his head, almost invisibly.

  The sub-visser's face glazed over. His eyes went dead. He relaxed his muscles.

  «Slow to dead stopr» Alloran ordered. «Alti-tude?»

  «Fifteen thousand feet,» I said dully. «We are still within the atmosphere. Air speed is now at dead stop.»

  «Dead stopr» Alloran said. «Appropriate. Now open the hatch.»

  What could I do? I was just an aristh. I had already defied Alloran once. If I defied him again. . . . He was mad. Insane.

  What could I do?

  61 I opened the hatch. Warm Taxxon air blew in, strange in the enclosed environment. It ruffled Loren's golden hair.

  «Get out, Yeerk,» Alloran said to Sub-Visser Seven.

  I closed my main eyes. I kept my stalk eyes focused on my instruments. I could not look.

  «Close the hatchr» Alloran said a few seconds later.

  I dared to look. The sub-visser was gone. I looked down at the exterior display screens. A tiny figure fell through the clouds. I looked away.

  «Now we go back and fry that transpo
rt shipr» Alloran said briskly. «Good to see you've grown up a little, Aristh Elfangor. Take us back over the southeastern corner of the spaceport. Maintain present altitude. Then we'll go pick up our missing Time Matrix, eh?»

  He seemed cheerful. As if, for a moment at least, the madness were past. But I knew it wasn't over. We didn't need to destroy the Yeerks in those transport pools. We needed to secure the Time Matrix.

  But I had given up arguing. I was tired. I was scared. I was sick from thinking of Arbron. I wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep, and not wake up till I was home on my own grass, under my own trees.

  I saw Loren watching me. She seemed worried. Concerned. Who wouldn't be? And yet...

  62 Chapman was watching, too. He seemed tense. Understandable. And yet. . .

  «What made you decide to come with us?» I asked Chapman. «Do you expect mercy from us? You betrayed us. You betrayed your fellow human. You've told the Yeerks about Earth. You may have betrayed your entire species.»

  He shrugged. "Not my fault, though, is it? I was on Earth, minding my own business. I didn't ask to be kidnapped by the Skrit Na. I didn't ask to be dragged halfway across the galaxy by you An-dalites. I was just trying to protect myself."

  «By making deals with the Yeerks?» Alloran laughed. «The Yeerks don't make deals. They enslaver

  "Yeah, I guess that's what I realized. After a while," Chapman said. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just a dumb human kid, okay? Give me a break."

  «We are coming back over the spaceport,» I announced. «There is a lot of smoke. But you should still be able to get a good targeting lock with the shredder.»

  Alloran didn't answer. He just stared at the display screen. At full magnification we could see the wormlike Taxxons below. We could easily see the ships, some burning from the battle, some tilted wildly over.

  The Living Hive had done damage to the Yeerks.

  63 But we could also see platoons of Hork-Bajir round-ing up Taxxons. And other Taxxons were busily feeding. . .

  Somewhere down there was Arbron.

  Alloran aimed the shredder. He aimed it carefully, taking his time. He focused it on the transport ship that contained thousands of helpless Yeerk slugs.