The Hork-Bajir Chronicles

  "Who are they?"

  «They're called Geddsr» Aldrea said.

  "Are they from another planet, like Andalites?"

  «Yes. But the Gedds aren't the problem. The problem is what those Gedds represents She turned all her eyes on me. «Dak, you are the seer. You were born, you say, because your people would need you.»

  "Yes, I was born a seer because you Andalites were coming. We had need of one who could learn from you."

  «l thought it was that, too,» Aldrea said softly. «But we were both wrong. You were not born because of the coming of Andalites. You were born because the Yeerks are hero

  60

  ALDREA

  "What are Yeerks?" Dak Hamee asked me.

  I sighed. «They are another species. Different from you or me, from Hork-Bajir or Andalite. Hork-Bajir and Andalites both walk freely in the world. We eat bark or grass. The Yeerks are different^

  "Are they predators? You taught me about predators."

  Once again, I was shocked. In the course of a few months Dak Hamee had gone from speaking a sort of childish pidgin to speaking as well as I. His grasp of concepts was sure and swift. The gap between him and the other Hork-Bajir was vast and growing every day. The gap between him and any Andalite . . . well, there no longer was an intellectual gap.

  «They are not predators, at least not in the usual way. They are parasites. You see, they . . .»

  "What? They what?" Dak pressed.

  But my brain had just stopped working. Frozen.

  61 And then, quite suddenly, it began to race in sheer panic.

  «Oh, no. NO! They're in orbit!» I cried.

  "TheYeerks?"

  «They're in orbit! This is the time of night when my father beams his report back to the home world. If they're in orbit they might intercept the message !»

  I was already running. Flat-out, tail tucked down, laboring, gasping as my muscles screamed from the pain of fighting the ever-present slope.

  Dak loped along as fast as he could, but on the ground I was faster than him. I left him behind. With my stalk eye turned back I saw him leap into the trees. He would move better up there, in his natural element.

  But Dak was no longer my concern. I had to stop my father from broadcasting! I had to stop that transmission.

  I was two miles from the scoop. Two miles of the weird running required on this planet: serpentine, up a few yards, down a few yards, advancing always, but adding twice the distance. It was simply impossible to run any other way. Uphill, downhill, running around the massive trees.

  I was extremely upset by the time I came in sight of the lights of the scoop. Upset because I knew in my hearts it was too late. My father has always

  62 been very precise. Very punctual. And my internal clock told me that the message had gone out fifteen minutes ago.

  Still I ran. I could make out the lights of the scoop. I could see shadows and silhouettes as my father or mother or brother moved in front of the lights. I could imagine every detail. My mother working at her computer, entering a precise DNA analysis of some strange, new flower she'd found. My brother playing a holo game, lancing imaginary enemy ships. My father... my father standing quietly on his own, thinking, remembering, imagining. Dreaming his hopeful dreams.

  That is the picture I want to hold onto, forever.

  Not what happened next.

  63

  I had enjoyed two days in my new Hork-Bajir body. It was still a wonder to me. A miracle.

  The only unpleasant part was the constant, nagging cries from the Hork-Bajir mind. It wasn't that he refused to accept the new reality. He was simply too stupid to know what was happening. Too stupid to understand.

  I walked throughout the ship now. It was built for Andalites, of course, so most of the floor had once been growing, green, red, and blue grass. The ceilings had been wonderful holographic images of an Andalite sky.

  Andalites hate confinement. I knew that about them. I knew that they were building a new generation of spacecraft that would be called "Dome ships." These Dome ships would actually have huge, artificial parks. Grass and trees and open sky.

  But the grass on this transport had long since

  64 died. We had no use for grass. And we have no fear of confinement.

  Here and there were yellowed patches that had managed somehow to struggle on, but for the most part the underlying steel mesh was visible.

  Visible! The very idea was new to me. That there were things one could see, and other things one could not see.

  The Andalite ship was built for transport. But there was a transparent portion of the hull I could look through with my eyes and see the other ships in our little armada.

  Nearby, close enough to see, were a pair of Andalite fighters. We had four altogether. Plus the two transports. We had also seized a small Ongachic craft and three Skrit Na ships. The Skrit Na ships were slow but well-armed. The Ongachic ship was faster but carried no weapons.

  Down below, filling half my field of vision, was the Hork-Bajir planet. It was the first planet I had ever seen. It was infinitely different from feeling, smelling, listening to descriptions. To see it, hanging there in space ... it was overwhelming. So huge! So strange.

  "Esplin," a voice said. I turned to see another Hork-Bajir host body.

  It was Carger 7901. I had known Carger for a

  65 long time. But I had never liked him. There had always been something too crude, too violent about him. Too ambitious. And now Carger was one of my few fellow Hork-Bajir-Controllers.

  There was talk of creating new ranks. Everyone said that if we were going to become a conquering army, we would need a hierarchy. The ancient Council of Thirteen would remain all-important. But beneath that would come something called "vis-sers" and "sub-vissers."

  Carger had already begun to refer to himself as a sub-visser. No one had contradicted him.

  "Esplin. Come with me."

  "Why?"

  "Don't ask questions," Carger said. "Just come."

  I followed him. He led me toward the docking area just behind the bridge.

  There we met up with two Gedd-Controllers I didn't know. And Akdor was there as well.

  "Rrr-we have just rrrrreceived an interrrcept coming from the surrrrface below," he said tersely. "An m-Andalite broadcast."

  I felt the surge of hormones within the Hork-Bajir body. The surge that came with fear or the anticipation of action.

  "Therrrre is an rrr-Andalite outpost on the planet.

  66 Rrr-the brrrroadcast was not encoded. We believe there arrrre just fourrrr Andalites. They must be rrr-killed. Immediately, before they can discoverrrr ourrrr presence here."

  Carger smiled with his Hork-Bajir mouth. "I will be honored to command the attack."

  "No doubt you rrr-would," Akdor said tersely. "But you are only going so that rrr-we can put those Hork-Bajirrrr bodies to use. We will attack from the rrr-Andalite fighter crrrraft. But if all four of the Andalites are not killed, you two will go after the sur-vivorrrrs."

  I'll admit I felt a qualm at that. Unlike the others, I knew about Andalites. I knew how advanced their technology was, and how dangerous. I also knew that even without any other weapons, with tails alone, they were dangerous.

  But I would have died rather than admit those doubts. This was the path to power. To be there, in the first combat use of Hork-Bajir hosts, would be an important thing.

  And if Carger could call himself a sub-visser, why shouldn't I be one as well?

  Two of the Andalite fighters were brought in to dock with the transport. Carger and I went aboard one.

  It was a short ride down to the planet surface.

  67 Half an orbit, then down through the thin atmosphere. The two fighters stayed close together in formation. I had taught our pilots that concept. I had learned it from studying the Andalites. Spacecraft in formation are harder to attack.

  Not that we expected to be attacked. There were four Andalites on the planet surface. But no ship.
r />   Down we went, skimming across the surface of the planet. And then, down, down into one of the huge valleys.

  It was dark on this side of the planet. Night. Eyes do not function well at night. But it didn't matter. We knew where the Andalites were.

  We came in just inches above the treetops.

  "Pilot," I said. "My studies of Andalite methods reveal that this ship possesses a visual augmentation device."

  The pilot ? a Gedd-Controller, of course ?snorted like I was a fool. "We know ourrrr ship," he said. He flipped on the viewscreen. And there on the screen, I could see the Andalite dwelling. A "scoop," they call it.

  I saw that one Andalite was working at a computer interface. A smaller, younger one seemed to be cavorting, playing some game. I saw a large, probably male Andalite standing at the edge of the scoop, looking out into the darkness.

  68 "Looking the wrong way," Carger laughed. "Look up, Andalite. Look up and see your death!"

  The Gedds joined in the laughter. Laughter: the ability to express joy with mouth sounds. So much that was new!

  But I did not laugh. "I see three Andalites, not four," I said.

  "The fourth is probably inside the scoop," Carger said.

  "No. Andalites never take shelter unless they must. In the depth of a cold night, or to avoid harsh weather, or to fend off an attack. Or when they must serve aboard spacecraft. Andalites are creatures of the open spaces. They hate being confined in any way. They become nervous and afraid if they don't have large areas in which to run."

  Carger sneered. "You are quite the Andalite-lover, Esplin."

  I felt a prickling of the skin on the back of my neck. It is a Hork-Bajir fear reaction. Fear of Carger.

  "I will kill more Andalites if I know their habits," I said gruffly.

  The two fighters were now no more than three hundred feet above the scoop, engines on very low to avoid being heard or seen. Another tactic I had discovered from my study of the enemy.

  "Shredderrrr powered. Tarrrget rrr-acquired," the Gedd pilot said.

  69 "There are only three Andalites in view," I said. "Wait till the fourth one joins them."

  "Wait? Fool. Shoot!" Carger demanded.

  "No! The remaining Andalite will see the ?"

  "I said shoot!" Carger roared. "That is a direct order from your sub-visser! Shoot! Kill them now!"

  70

  ALDREA

  There was no warning. No warning, except for the awful feeling in my stomach, the churning, awful feeling of dread.

  TSEEEWWWW!

  TSEEEWWWW!

  The shredder beams fired from the sky. Not too far up. They had come low, snuck closer, and hovered, lights off, hidden by trees and darkness.

  TSEEEWWWW!

  TSEEEWWWW!

  The scoop exploded. The air pockets in the construction material superheated in a microsecond and exploded. The moisture in the ground, in the grass and soil turned to steam in half the blink of an eye and exploded. Everything that could burn, burned.

  And everything can burn in the heat of a shredder at full power. Everything.

  71 «NOOOOOOO!» I screamed.

  I felt the blast of heat on my face. I felt the concussions roll across me like waves.

  «NOOOOOO!»

  TSEEEWWWW!

  TSEEEWWWW!

  The scoop was all flames and explosion. I didn't see my family burn. I didn't see them, but I knew it was happening.

  A hundred feet away, less, they were already dead. Dead with the first shredder blast.

  «AAHHH! AAHHH! AAHHH! AAHHH!»

  I couldn't stop screaming.

  The two stolen Andalite fighters fired. Again and again. Fired till what had been our scoop was nothing but fused glass. Molten slag.

  «AAHHH! AAHHH! AAHHH!»

  Someone grabbed me. I whipped my tail without thinking, enraged, terrified.

  Dak Hamee took the blow on his left arm. My tail blade sliced through half his wrist blade. A small blade piece fell to the ground.

  The shredder fire stopped. What had been our scoop, what had been my family, glowed red in the night. It would be days before the heat dissipated.

  "You must get away!" Dak said fiercely.

  «They're dead,» I moaned. «No, no, no, no.»

  72 "You must get away!" he said again.

  «They're all dead!»

  "The ones who did this may come to check, to be sure of what they have done," Dak said. "They must not find you."

  «What does it matter? Oh, my mother. My father. Barafin! Barafin!»

  Dak grabbed me and turned me away from the awful scene. He took my head gently in his two claw hands and made me face him. But as a Hork-Bajir, he didn't understand: My stalk eyes could all too easily stay riveted on the glowing red wound that had been my life.

  "As you said, Aldrea, this is why I was born a seer. To save my people from these Yeerks who have done this evil thing. But I cannot do it alone. You must help me."

  «Help?» I sobbed. «Help what?»

  "Help me to understand ... to understand this evil," Dak said. "Will you help me understand this evil?"

  I was sick. So sick with fear and hatred I wanted to die just to make the sickness stop.

  But Dak had shown me a way to live. A reason to endure the violence eating away at my insides.

  «No, I won't help you to understand^ I said. «But I will help you kill Yeerks. That, I will do. I will

  73 help you kill them. And kill them. And kill them! And kill them all!»

  I screamed in powerless rage at the sky where I knew the Yeerks were hiding.

  «Kill them all!» I cried. «Kill them all!»

  74

  DAK HAMTC

  I was still shaking. My face still burned from the awful heat. My mind was reeling, swirling, crazed by what I had seen.

  All I knew of Andalites and the galaxy beyond my planet was what Aldrea had told me. She had not told me of such things. She had not told me of weapons. Of wars. Of Yeerks.

  I knew none of these things.

  I knew that there were monsters who lived in Father Deep and sometimes rose up to take unwary Hork-Bajir who had gone too far down the valley walls.

  But those were monsters. They did not use spacecraft. They did not strike, invisibly, from the sky.

  I knew this, though: When monsters attack, a Hork-Bajir must run away. If one monster attacks and fails to drag you away, another monster may be

  75 drawn by the noise and attack as well. These Yeerks might be like that. They might still attack again.

  Aldrea was not listening to me. I took her arm with my hand and pulled her away. I made her follow me into the shadows, away from the horrible glow.

  I had to tell the elders of this. Nothing like this had ever happened. They had to know. They would have to decide . . .

  No, I realized. I would have to decide. They would look at me and say, "Dak Hamee, you are the different one. You are the seer. Tell us the way."

  I stopped running. Aldrea stopped, too.

  "I must decide," I said. I felt as though a Tribe Tree had fallen on me. I thought I had learned so much. I thought I was wise. But I knew nothing!

  "I'm not ready," I said to Aldrea. "I don't know what to do!"

  Before she could answer, I saw two Hork-Bajir coming toward us, running. They must have seen the lights from the sky.

  "Do not fear, brothers," I said to them.

  "Oh, we're not afraid," one said to me. His tone was strange. Different.

  He walked straight toward me. As he drew close, I realized I did not know him. Was he from one of the other tribes in the valley?

  76 Ssslash!

  He struck me with his wrist blade! I was cut in my chest. I could see the blood. I could see that the skin was separated, as though a large mouth had been cut into my chest.

  It caused pain.

  "Why did you ?"

  Ssslash! Ssslash!

  He struck at me, using his feet and elbow blades!

&n
bsp; I was cut again. I was bleeding. The left side of my face was deeply gashed. It had all happened in the blink of an eye.

  "Forget him, get the Andalite!" the other Hork-Bajir yelled.

  The second Hork-Bajir leaped at Aldrea. He was slicing the air with his blades, whirling and slicing, as if doing a sky-dance.

  «Dak! Fight back. These aren't real Hork-Bajir!» Aldrea said.

  "What?"

  «Fight them!» Aldrea yelled, and she swung her tail, whipping it forward so fast that the air cracked. The small blade on the end of her tail struck directly into the chest of the second Hork-Bajir.

  He leaped back, hissing furiously.

  All I could do was stare. I was bleeding. I was cut in many places. I felt pain. But more, I felt confused. How was it possible for a Hork-Bajir to cut me with

  77 his blades? It was not an accident, like sometimes happens when we are harvesting bark.

  We were not harvesting bark. This Hork-Bajir had cut me. Deliberately! Why?

  "Ignore the stupid one, help me get the An-dalite! She cut me!"

  Now both Hork-Bajir turned to Aldrea. They moved closer, slashing madly at air, drawing closer all the time. They circled, forcing her back against a tree trunk.

  If they kept slashing and moving toward her in that way, she would be cut. She would be cut so badly that she might die. I had seen Hork-Bajir who had been accidentally cut. Once an old, weak Hork-Bajir died from the cut.

  Aldrea's tail quivered, poised.

  A sudden leap! Both Hork-Bajir jumped at Aldrea, blades flashing. Aldrea's tail whipped again and again.

  She tripped! One of her legs buckled and she sagged to one side.

  "Die, Andalite filth!" one of the Hork-Bajir screamed.

  His blades flashed.

  I looked at my own wrist blades.

  Aldrea screamed in rage and terror.

  I held out my arms and saw the blades there. It was as if I were seeing myself for the first time.

  78 Something happened then. It was as if I had been given the power to look right into the heart of Father Deep. I could feel a terrible knowledge, a terrible understanding. I could feel . . . power.

  «Dak! Help me!»

  I jumped on the back of the closest Hork-Bajir. I swung my arm as hard and as fast as I could. My wrist blade sliced into his back. It sliced through the muscle. It sliced through his spine.