The Arrival

Home > Science > The Arrival > Page 2
The Arrival Page 2

by K. A. Applegate


  DING!

  The doors to the freight elevator opened. The Hork-Bajir wavered, distracted.

  Jake roared.

 

  Tseeewww! Tseeewww! Tseeewww!

  Dracon beams burned. Inches above us.

  And now …

  Tseeew! Tseeew!

  Shredder fire! The sound, so like a Dracon beam, was different enough for any Andalite aristh to recognize.

  Tseeew! Tseeew!

  Shredder fire, point-blank at the wall of tight-packed Hork-Bajir.

  Visser Three yelled, his thought-speak voice torn between outrage, fear, and simple disbelief.

  Four Andalites jumped from the elevator like bucks clearing a fence. They were everywhere at once. Firing. Whipping their tail blades with deadly precision.

  They were magnificent.

  I fought beside a young female.

  She had impeccable timing. She was dangerous. She was beautiful.

  CRASH!

  The hallway wall collapsed and the battle spilled back into the interior office space of the building.

  The female kept up a steady stream of fire as we forced back the Hork-Bajir line.

  Windows shattered. Desks splintered. Plaster, tangles of wire, and debris poured from the ceiling.

  The Yeerks were losing.

  Suddenly, the shrill sound of police sirens penetrated the noise of battle.

  Tobias announced.

  Prince Jake demanded, unwilling to run till he was sure we were all safe.

 

  Prince Jake snapped.

  The visser did not deign to respond. He slammed his way past a Taxxon, leaving the creature oozing goo from a deep gash.

  The battle was over.

  Shell-shocked Hork-Bajir began gathering up their dead, Taxxons waddled back down the stairwell, dragging what meat they could take away with them; to disappear into some secret basement hiding place.

  Then, through a cloud of plaster dust, I saw one of the Andalite warriors jump over the body of a fallen Hork-Bajir and land face-to-face with Visser Three.

  Of course! These Andalites were not under Prince Jake’s orders.

  The Andalite lifted his shredder. It would be a point-blank killing.

  I felt a surge of hot joy in my heart.

  Visser Three looked at the Andalite.

  The Andalite’s eyes flickered and his finger hesitated on the shredder.

  Fwapp!

  With the flat of his tail blade, the visser smacked the weapon from his assailant’s hand.

  Visser Three laughed.

  The one he had called Arbat let out an Andalite curse.

  Visser Three leaped to safety behind a phalanx of Hork-Bajir.

  Prince Jake said,

  one of the Andalites commanded.

  Prince Jake ordered.

  I cried as the Andalites galloped down what was left of the hall.

  The female turned.

  An hour later, we were in Cassie’s barn.

  Cassie’s family runs the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic. At any given time, the clinic houses several dozen wounded or ill creatures. Often exotics.

  There are also squirrels, rabbits, pigeons, and grackles. Common creatures that come and go, drawn by the seeds and oats that lie scattered in and around the barn.

  “No doubt about it,” Marco said, waving a copy of The Chronicle. “A propaganda mill for Yeerks. Part three in a five-part series on The Sharing.”

  The Sharing exists to recruit human hosts, willing and unwilling. It poses as an innocuous family-oriented group.

  For every Yeerk that has a host body, there are thousands of Yeerks that do not. They live in a dank pool where they feed on Kandrona rays. And wait.

  They wait for host bodies.

  They would not wait much longer.

  I said.

  “Not so fast, Ax-man,” Marco warned.

  I heard the old Andalite vainglory in my voice. I thought I had outgrown the impulse to boast. But the thrill of fighting side by side with another Andalite had reawakened all the pride of my people.

  For the first time since I’d found myself stranded on Earth, I felt that the future might be hopeful.

  So I did not understand the look of wariness and pity transmitted from face-to-face.

  Cassie. To Rachel. To Prince Jake. To Tobias. To Marco.

  Marco spoke. “If I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: It may walk like an Andalite. It may talk like an Andalite. But that don’t mean it is an Andalite.”

  “He’s right, Ax.” Cassie held a defanged pit viper she had found abandoned in the schoolyard. Gently she pried it from her arm and placed it in a large tub beneath a heat lamp.

  “We know it’s hard for you, and that you’re lonely a lot of the time,” Cassie continued. “But … ”

  “But we have to be realistic,” Marco finished. “This might be the fleet. Or it might be some fresh hell.”

  Prince Jake crossed his arms. “How do we know these new Andalites aren’t Yeerks with Andalite host bodies?”

  Tobias agreed.

  I protested.

  “In a world where slugs can take over entire civilizations, anything is possible,” Marco reminded me.

 

  “Funny you should mention Leera,” Marco said. He did not say anything more. He did not have to. There, for the first time in my life, I had learned that even an Andalite may be a traitor.

  I insisted.

  Another look passed from face to face. This time, it appeared to be one of amusement.

  “Ax,” Cassie said. “I think you have what is commonly known as a crush.”

 

  “A feeling that makes it hard for you to see the truth, if the truth is unpleasant,” she explained.

  “Yeah, you know, like the way Cassie can’t see that Jake is really just a pinhead,” Marco said.

  Prince Jake threw a horse comb at Marco that Marco dodged. Marco and Prince Jake are best friends. This sort of behavior appears to be typical of male friendships.

  “Until we figure these guys out, let’s just hang loose,” Prince Jake said.

  “Yeah. Like maybe not change our minds about who is in charge and who isn’t,” Rachel said bluntly.

  I felt myself flush. In the Leera incident I had changed my allegiance from Prince Jake to the Andalite officer who betrayed us.

  I was still ashamed of this. But I had sworn never to abandon my prince again. Unless it was at his command.

  Shame was quickly replaced by anger.

  I demanded.

  “No, I don’t,” Prince Jake said firmly. And with a sharp look at Rachel he added, “Neither does Rachel. I just don’t want you to do anything without talking it over with us first. Okay?”

&n
bsp; I said angrily.

  I left the barn and galloped until both my hearts were pounding. I was angry, but that emotion cooled quickly enough. The emotion that replaced it did not cool.

  She was beautiful.

  She was so beautiful.

  KEEERRRACCKKKK!

  I leaped out of range before the tree limb could fall on me. The limb I had severed with one blow of my tail.

  Tobias circled downward, landing in the tree.

  Tobias is interesting. A nothlit, but now an almost voluntary one. He has lost his human life, but not his human friends. He belongs. But at the same time, he does not belong.

  Like me.

  Perhaps that is why he is my true shorm. What humans would call a “best friend.” Or “soul mate.” That and the fact that my brother was Tobias’s father.

  I assumed the attack position again.

  Tobias asked.

 

  Even though I am only an aristh — what humans would call a cadet — in the Andalite military, I had undergone rigorous training at the academy. Tail fighting is a sport, an art, and a deadly combat skill.

  I had a feeling that I was about to be tested. I did not want to disgrace myself.

 

 

 

  Cinnamon buns!

  I paused. I am extremely fond of cinnamon buns. I am so fond of them, it is hard for me to restrain my joy in eating them.

  I have now had much practice eating cinnamon buns. But from time to time, I still have difficulty containing my enthusiasm for the taste sensations that come from these tasty treats.

  This is one of the things I must explain to my people: the incredible joys of acquiring human morphs and using the mouth to ingest intensely flavored items.

  I began to morph a northern harrier. The blue-and-tan fur of my body began to grow longer and shingle. Layer upon layer of feathers appeared upon my shrinking body.