Let's Read Animorphs! The Whole Series! Ch-ch-ch-chaaanges

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disaster pastor: May 1, 2007

It's always nice when the already very dangerous plan goes off the rails and becomes more dangerous thirty seconds in.

# ? Dec 10, 2021 13:19

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# ? May 25, 2024 17:16

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

Every operation he's led has ended in animal-driven failure, and you want to PROMOTE this moron?

With a record like that, he could be a Visser!

# ? Dec 10, 2021 15:17

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 13

quote:

The darkness was complete.

Total.

And I heard nothing. No sound save my own irregular breathing.

Sensation started to return and I realized I�d been stuffed into a box half my size. A straitjacket that pinned my wings against my body. Jammed the vestigial Andalite tail up into my neck.

The hawk in me tensed every muscle. No room! In a panic, it pressed against the walls of the seamless steel box. Terrified. Confined. I fought to control the bird. But I was losing the struggle. The human me was frightened, too.

Rachel! Oh, Rachel. Could she escape this underground network? Somehow survive?

She would. Sure she would. She had to. She was Rachel, after all. Rachel!

Where was she? All I could think of was a paralyzed fly, helpless and vulnerable on the floor.

Someone would step on her. She wouldn�t be able to get out of the way, and someone would kill her.

Better than the alternative. Life as a fly. Trapped, like me. But so not like me. I could see, soar �

And the plan? Rachel was supposed to have seen where they took me, then lead the others in.

First prove the Anti-Morphing Ray didn�t work, then, in the rescue, destroy the thing for good measure.

It was crazy! Inconceivable arrogance on our parts. We had underestimated our foe. A fatal error.

Fatal.

The hawk brain, the animal part that still, even now, lived apart from me, untouched by human reason, began a low, defeated moan. A death moan.

So hot in the box. Like an oven. Warmer, and warmer still. How much more oxygen could there be? Were they trying to suffocate me? Was that it?

Interminable!

The only external input were the wobbles and bobs as the holder of the box hit me against his leg. The ride continued.

No space to morph or demorph.

<I�ll be trapped. As a horrific, half-morphed creature,> I pronounced slowly. <That will be my fate. I bet Andalites don�t even have a word for that tragedy.>

That�s it. Keep talking, Tobias. Keep talking. Stay sane. Hold on. Don�t think �

Zeeewooozeeewooo.

All six walls of the box began to buzz. Vibrate. And then: Poosh!

Like a camera flash, steel walls vaporized. Dazzling light flooded my eyes. Blinded me. Rods and cones shot to hell. I saw nothing but white.

I blinked a few times. Then, no. No, my eyes were adjusting.

I was in another box. But a completely different kind. A cube of glass. Larger. Maybe four feet square. Big enough for me to move about. Brightly illuminated, with several spotlights directed at me.

I demorphed immediately. Back to hawk.

I blinked again. And as I rose to my feet, I realized I was suspended. The cube hung in the center of a much larger room. I strained to look beyond the glass. Through the glare from the lights to the dimness beyond.

�There�s no way out.� It was Taylor�s voice. Sub-Visser Fifty-one. Cold and casual. �There�s no point in looking around.�

She sat alone at a long table near the door of the large, gloomy, windowless room. To her right and left, armed Hork-Bajir, standing at attention. Above, a network of steel beams and conduits and a daunting maze of wire.

�You may as well demorph and make yourself comfortable while we wait,� she continued.

Nice try, I thought. Demorph and make myself comfortable. Yeah, right! Wouldn�t she just love an Andalite to infest. That would get her noticed by the Visser. Why don�t I plunge my head in the sludgy Yeerk pool while I�m at it?

�No?� she prodded, mocking. �Don�t want to demorph? Worried about that whole Yeerk-in-the-head thing? That�s okay, my little Andalite birdie. You stay just the way you are. For now.�

I looked again at the glass walls of my cube. Smooth and thick. Flawless. Featureless, except for one small, inset panel. In the panel were three circles. Three discs like oversized elevator buttons.

They were colored. One red, one blue, one black.

�Ah, I see you�ve noticed the control device. There�s a little experiment to be carried out as soon as Visser Three arrives,� she said knowingly. �This device is state of the art, Andalite. The very latest in Yeerk technology.�

A little experiment? Control device? The Anti-Morphing Ray. That had to be it. Right?

I reached forward with my beak to touch the panel.

Scheewack! Kewwwack! Force-field static crackled and hissed. An electric jolt grabbed my beak and sent a shock through my body. From wings to tail and back again. I collapsed, stunned, to the floor.

�Ouchie,� Taylor said.

Ouchie indeed. So, as you can see, this obviously didn't go according to plan. He's confined, scared, and not convinced his friends can find him.

Chapter 14

quote:

There was a loud banging on the door. Two Hork-Bajir scurried to open it, knocking into each other on the way. A clatter of arm blades as they struggled to disentangle themselves. One finally made it to the door.

<Superb,> the visser muttered as he swaggered into the room. <It now takes two of you to open a door, I see. Yes. Excellent.>

He strode, with graceful Andalite steps, toward the center of the room. He paused briefly to grind a hoof into one of the offending Hork-Bajir�s toes. A muffled cry.

 the visser boomed in public thought-speak, pausing in mid-sentence to turn all four eyes on me, <detained.>

My breathing stopped. My stomach was stone. The darkness in his gaze was terrifying. We had met many times, he and I. But visible through those Andalite eyes was an evil that still struck fear in my heart. Still gripped me with hopelessness and despair.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that this Yeerk had managed something that years of battle had been unable to do: take down the great Elfangor. Stamp out that brave warrior�s life. Or maybe looking into Visser Three�s eyes made me face the hard reality that despite all our campaigns - the numerous ways we�ve succeeded in weakening and slowing his invasion of Earth - this Yeerk still stood powerful and strong.

Was he just lucky? Or was he really smarter than we were?

Would he always triumph? Would we never be able to end the invasion? To change the course of humanity�s future?

He looked away and released me from his hold.

�Urgent business?� the sub-visser inquired with interest.

 He scanned the room like the queen of hearts, looking for someone to behead. <And, oh yes,> he intoned, smoothly reversing the pivot of his stalk eyes to rest on me, <by a small and trivial matter of an Andalite bandit found in the woods. We followed him from here, back to his pitiful shelter.>

I was stunned. Surely this was a bluff. Surely Ax had gotten away. The visser waited, clearly hoping to get a rise out of me.

<We destroyed the scoop, of course.> He paused again. <Touchingly primitive the way Andalites live. You�re a claustrophobic species, aren�t you? Always craving the open air. Well, your compatriot is now random atoms floating in open air.>

Taylor laughed appreciatively.

I said nothing. And a hawk face shows no emotion.

The visser seemed a little disappointed. <Several other Andalites were found trespassing on community center property. But you can rest assured, Sub-Visser, that they were disposed of.>

No. I refused to believe him. If he�d found anyone in morph, he�d have brought them straight here, to test the ray. We were too valuable as guinea pigs.

Lies.

<Yes. Well.> His stalk eyes drooped slightly. <Shall we proceed to the matter at hand? I think our friend here has waited long enough.>

�Yes, Visser,� Taylor answered obsequiously.

<Well, then! Doctors Sinegert and Singh! My two devoted scientists!> He searched the room. <Where are they?>

The door was opened again. This time by a single Hork-Bajir. Two small human-Controllers in white lab coats emerged timidly.

They looked haggard. Like they hadn�t slept in days. They gaped at Visser Three, then looked away. One carried a thick, softbound manual, the other, a large tabletop device. A replica of the three buttons in my glass cube. They set their items cautiously on the table in front of the Visser.

<Are you quite ready?> the Visser asked solicitously.

�Yes, we, I, we �Yes.�

<Then proceed before I lose all patience!>

They moved quickly, clumsily, shaking.

One of them stumbled, running over to a large object that looked remarkably like the kind of telescope an amateur astronomer might own.

The telescopelike device was aimed at me.

Dr. Singh flipped several switches on the base and shaft of the instrument. The other man appeared to connect power to the three-circle device. The two men then stood together. Their expressions were a disturbing mix of hope and pride and terror.

Together they pressed sweaty palms down onto a large black button.
I would have laughed, if I weren�t sick with fear. They were like a pair of hopeful kids in a science fair being judged by a psycho-killer.

The corresponding black circle in my glass cube glowed with an eerie light.

I closed my eyes. Hoping the ray wouldn�t kill me, but knowing full well that it could.

I waited.

My body tingled ever so slightly.

Wooomp, wooomp, woomp.

A strained noise, like a helicopter at liftoff, or an old car engine turning over.

Woomp, woomp.

I opened my eyes.

The two little scientists looked unsettled. Their eyes darted nervously from the telescope object to their charts, to their controls, to me.

Then slowly, slowly, they turned their faces to Visser Three.

<A very noisy machine,> the Visser called loudly. <You�ll want to work that out now, won�t you. Smooth out the details. Fine-tune the instrument �>

At this point the scientists� faces grew flushed. Perspiration beaded on their brows. They flipped rapidly through pages of calculations. One climbed up onto the machine with a wrench and began to peel off the outer body. A wrench. How high-tech, I thought.

�I don�t understand,� one of them said breathlessly. �It is impossible for it not to be working. Impossible.� He ran toward me. Stood on tiptoes to peer at me in my cube. I was still a hawk. I had not demorphed. For the very excellent reason that I was not morphed to begin with. �It must work!�

�Visser � it must work. It does work!�

�It works, Visser, it � somehow ��

Taylor rolled her eyes and sighed.

Visser Three stood completely immobile. A stillness filled the room.

I would not have been surprised to see an actual column of steam rise from his head. He uttered a single command. <Feed them to the Taxxons. Slowly.>

�No, Visser, no! You don�t understand. This must be some sort of Andalite trick. It is inconceivable that the ray should not work.� The other one held up a paper brick of calculations and shook it desperately. �Look through our work, Visser. You will see that it is perfect. That the work is valuable. That we are valuable.�

�It�s not my fault,� a wild-eyed, weeping Dr. Sinegert cried. �It�s him! He � he�s a saboteur! A traitor!�

Visser Three stared hard at me with his main eyes. I stared back. Did he suspect? Did he guess yhat this game was rigged?

 he said, disgusted. <This Andalite is all yours, Sub-Visser. Make the Andalite demorph. Infest him. I leave the task to you. This is your specialty. Do not disappoint me.> He walked leisurely toward the door.

Hork-Bajir grabbed the scientists. The struggle was brief. A hatch opened in the floor. A grate I had not noticed. From it issued the snorts and sloshings of hungry Taxxons.

�Nooo!�

The Hork-Bajir looked more interested now, as they dangled first one, then the other scientist down into the pit.

I looked away. I could do nothing to shut out their howls of pain. Howls of pain that went on till, at last, with the visser gone, the Hork-Bajir released their hold and dropped the Controllers into the pit.

The floor closed up.

The sub-visser looked shaken. Maybe she guessed that she had just glimpsed her own future.

But I watched her work to recover her strength. Her ruthlessness. Eyes that had held faint traces of pity hardened again.

�You can make this easy, Andalite,� she said slowly, deliberately. �Or you can make it � horrible.� She paused. �It�s all up to you.�

So Visser Three actually tried sarcasm, good for him. And poor Doctors Sinegert and Singh. We hardly knew ye or your Yeerks. I don't know. I almost think being one of Visser Three's scientists is more dangerous than being one of his soldiers. As a soldier, Ax will probably cut off your hand, but the Yeerks are good at reattaching hands. As a scientist, Visser Three is going to make you build a superweapon without enough time or resources, and then kill you because the light on the machine saying it's on was the wrong shade of yellow or something.

# ? Dec 11, 2021 04:42

Comrade Blyatlov: Aug 4, 2007; should have picked four fingers

Do.... they have a sub-level full of Taxxons? :psyduck:

# ? Dec 11, 2021 04:51

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

Do.... they have a sub-level full of Taxxons?

Doesn't EVERYONE have a sublevel full of Taxxons?

Maybe....maybe I should spend tomorrow cleaning out my basement.

# ? Dec 11, 2021 05:33

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

Do.... they have a sub-level full of Taxxons?

A glorious unending orgy of insect flesh, floor to ceiling, wall to wall.

# ? Dec 11, 2021 05:42

Pwnstar: Dec 9, 2007; Who wants some waffles?

Love the Hork-Bajir doing the doorway gag. Also Visser 3 being a typical boss by complaining that the machine makes too much noise so they need to fix that.

# ? Dec 11, 2021 05:49

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 15

quote:

She planted her face inches from the glass - uncomfortably close - and stared icily into my hawk eyes. A zoo animal on display. That�s how I felt.

�You�ll soon be trapped in morph, Andalite,� the sub-visser said, �Surely you don�t want to live out your life as a bird.�

I decided to answer. 

She looked at me intently for a moment more, as if she found my statement difficult to grasp. The resemblance to Rachel was disturbing. Same proud stance. Same natural, glowing beauty. But I knew the similarity was only skin-deep. Inside, she and Rachel were like night and day.

Or at least night and twilight.

�No, of course you won�t.� She mocked. �Brave Andalite. Your sense of honor is ridiculous. It will get you nowhere.�

She walked across the room with placid determination. Turned her attention to the control panel.

It looked like something I�d seen at the modern art museum. Three large circles - maybe six inches in diameter - that stood out vividly against a silver-gray background. Blue, red. And black. That last one I knew. The AMR. But the other two?

She hesitated before the panel, almost like she was afraid. Then suddenly, startlingly, slammed her hand down on the red button. The circle in my cube glowed a deep crimson. I watched it pulsate with color.

And without warning -

<Ahhhhhh!>

It struck like a knife. Staggering, twisting pain that sliced through to my bones.

A dagger � twisting �

<Ahhhhhhhhhh!>

Sharp bursts of pain knocked the wind out of me. I gasped.

�Demorph,� Taylor said.

I was silent. Impossible to respond. To even think of speaking as the pain seared. Stronger. More intense each second. A high-pitched tone began to ring in my ears.

Couldn�t stand it � oh, God, the pain!

Stopped,

Gone.

Color drained from the red circle.

I had to look strong. Seem unaffected. Tough. Unbreakable. But I could do nothing but lie there. Lie there and breathe. Breathe.

�Really quite beautiful, isn�t it?� she announced. A demented pride shone in her eyes. A look that left no doubt that her lips mouthed the words of the Yeerk within. �Some of our best scientists spent nearly a decade perfecting it. The concept is really quite simple.
You see, I have direct, unhindered access to the parts of your brain that control emotion and physical sensation.� She laughed. A pure, girlish sound. She might have been giggling about some boy. �I can make you feel anything I choose. That, in case you couldn�t tell, was pain - the lowest setting. I�d like to know what you think. No, really. Be honest. Our scientists appreciate feedback. Especially from a mighty Andalite.�

I tried to answer. To appear in control, unaltered. But I still couldn�t move. Or summon the strength to conceal the soft, pathetic whimpers I�d never known my hawk voice could make.

�Interesting,� mused the sub-visser, assessing my state. �This may be easier than I anticipated. Don�t give in too quickly, though. I wouldn�t want Visser Three to think anyone could do this job. Ready? One more time? Shall we?�

She hit the red circle again.

I screamed. Screamed and screamed.

My wings trembled, uncontrollable. My beak jerked wildly. Talons clutched at nothing. My bowels failed and I fouled myself.

Indescribable pain. Staggering pain. Pain that ate into me, chewed at my guts, twisted every nerve ending.

Had to make it stop. Had to make it stop!

Tell her! Tell her! Make it stop, tell her, tell her, tell her!

Me, the human me, the boy inside kept screaming tell her, tell her!

But the hawk � the hawk suffered dumb, helpless. The hawk had no way out. The me that was a bird, the body, the physical me didn�t know that there was a cause for the pain.

Didn�t know it could make the pain end. And already, for the hawk, the pain had become a fact of life. Reality.

Life was hunger. Life was killing. Life was danger. Life was pain.

The hawk could manage it. Not on a conscious level, of course, but by shutting down. Keeping alive on a sort of primitive autopilot. Only essential parts of the organism were maintained. No contemplation. No decision. Not even observation. Just survival.

The boy Tobias screamed.

The hawk Tobias had already begun to accept the pain.

And here we go....

Chapter 16

quote:

Pain off. Gasping.

Pain on. Screaming.

Off.

On.

Tell her everything!

Pain is normal. Life is pain.

Make it stop!

Go away, human. Go away, little boy. The hawk knows. The predator understands because he understands nothing.

<Let go,> I mumbled to myself. <Let go of yourself.>

�What was that you said?� Taylor asked.

Irrelevant. She was nothing, i was the hawk.

Deeper into the hawk. Go away, weak human boy.

I seemed to stand outside my body. Hawk, human - everything. My mind began to race, the manic frenzy of madness. Up above it all.

A wave of self-pity, followed by a wave of hatred, followed by the unbearable weight of despair. The pain sped everything up. Faster and faster. Panic, fear, sadness.

But somehow �

Using the half of me that was equipped to process pain, I was enduring it. Close down your human mind! It�s your only hope, I told myself. Focus on the hawk. Focus on the part of you where the pain is less subversive. Less destructive.

Sink into your hawk self, Tobias. Deep into your raptor self.

But the images!

Fragments of memory. Random memory. Flashing uncontrollably across my mind�s screen. Insanity! Madness!

A hyper-speed slide show.

Fleeting. Irrepressible. Dominating my reality and impossible to control. Turn it off. Off!

The living room was fairly dark. As usual, the shades were drawn. It was about four o�clock and he�d just come home. From work as a roofer. His face was tanned and leathery. A beer can in his hand.

�Yeah, so what?� My uncle�s voice. Raspy and cold. He sat on the couch, where he spent most of his time. Even spent the night there, too, now. With empty, tired eyes he stared at the TV. He had the scanner on as well. Tuned to the police band. Spouting a stream of mundane reports.

I spoke cautiously. �Well, it�s like an honor,� I said. �I mean, the committee picked my drawing out from hundreds of entries. Just something I sketched during art class. I had no idea it would make the state show.�

I was hoping he would take me to the prizewinners� reception that weekend. Stupid. It wasn�t like it was a big deal. But it would have been okay.

�Do you get prize money?� he grumbled casually, not even turning to look at me.

�No,� I said, confused.

�No? So then what�s it worth? If it won�t help pay the bills, what good is it?� He glanced at me patronizingly, then back to the TV. �When I was about your age I already had a job. At this car lot. Washing the cars. All the money went to my mother. All my earnings. Because Dad wasn�t around. It was tight �� He broke off and leaned back into the couch.

I stood there at the foot of the stairs, unable to move. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes.

Couldn�t show him that.

I told myself, No big deal, Tobias. Just some dumb drawing. No big deal.

To him I said, �Yeah, well, it was just an idea.�

No answer.

I dragged myself upstairs to my room. Walked across to the window. I could cry up here where no one would see.

Stupid to cry.

Then, through blurry eyes I watched a car pull up to a house across the street. A mom and daughter got out. Walked together to the front door. The little girl was carrying a page smeared with finger paint, crumpling it a little as she walked. The mother stopped, took the picture from her daughter, and carried it into the house like it was the Mona Lisa.

It was like someone had set out to shove my life in my face. Here, Tobias, take a look. Take a look at your life, and at the lives of normal kids. Take a good long look.

I was alone. I was alone.

Where would my strength come from?

I raised a hand to brush away the tears.

A hand that was � fingers that were �

Tan.

Feathers.

A wing.

I whipped around to face the mirror. Round, expressionless eyes stared back at me.

<Noooo! Noooooooo!>

�Give it up,� Taylor said, her voice dripping sympathy. �Do you think I like doing this?� She laughed her sudden mall-rat giggle. �I will break you. I will. Now demorph, Andalite. Surrender and the pain will end.�

quote:

2 Everyone talks sooner or later under torture.

Truth is, it's surprisingly hard to get anything under torture, true or false. For example, between 1500 and 1750, French prosecutors tried to torture confessions out of 785 individuals. Torture was legal back then, and the records document such practices as the bone-crushing use of splints, pumping stomachs with water until they swelled and pouring boiling oil on the feet. But the number of prisoners who said anything was low, from 3 percent in Paris to 14 percent in Toulouse (an exceptional high). Most of the time, the torturers were unable to get any statement whatsoever.

And such examples could be multiplied. The Japanese fascists, no strangers to torture, said it best in their field manual, which was found in Burma during World War II: They described torture as the clumsiest possible method of gathering intelligence. Like most sensible torturers, they preferred to use torture for intimidation, not information.

The Washington Post, 12/13/2007 'Five Myths about Torture and Truth-Darius Rapali

# ? Dec 12, 2021 05:51

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

Epicurius posted:

Chapter 16

Is this the first time we've seen or heard anything directly of his aunt or uncle, rather than their just being referenced?

# ? Dec 12, 2021 10:48

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Fuschia tude posted:

Is this the first time we've seen or heard anything directly of his aunt or uncle, rather than their just being referenced?

I'm pretty sure it is, yes.

# ? Dec 12, 2021 15:44

mind the walrus: Sep 22, 2006

I really like that the series is careful to test each member of the team with things that directly challenge their best qualities-- Jake's natural leadership, Rachel's ruthlessness, Cassie's pragmatic compassion, Marco's social compassion, and Tobias' drive for purpose.

Tobias in-particular gets not only a mission and reason to live, complete with a way out of his poo poo living situation, but then gets given extra-special qualities that are revealed as the series progresses... and in-turn gets tested even more. "Oh so you're really the son of the space prince and the super-special? Cool let's see you cope with actually being the only one who can do a high-risk/low-reward feint on your enemies where even success looks like white-hot blinding torture!"

It seems so obvious, but a lot of authors don't key in on their characters' best qualities this well and then figure out proper ways to challenge them. You never saw Hermione in Harry Potter struggling with getting burnt in academia somehow.

# ? Dec 12, 2021 16:19

Strategic Tea: Sep 1, 2012

This does however miss the fact that torture is incredibly effective at its primary purpose! Which is, when your boss tells you to be brutally effective even if it means you're getting your hands dirty, because his boss in say some sort of political sphere tells him he is expected to take off the kid gloves and do whatever it takes, the sanitised video footage will 100% prove to both of them you're a Tough Guy Who Gets It Done.

# ? Dec 12, 2021 17:34

Mazerunner: Apr 22, 2010; Good Hunter, what... what is this post?

mind the walrus posted:

It seems so obvious, but a lot of authors don't key in on their characters' best qualities this well and then figure out proper ways to challenge them. You never saw Hermione in Harry Potter struggling with getting burnt in academia somehow.

well, I dunno about that. The entire third book is her overreaching and having a stress-breakdown. One of the better bits of subtle characterization is her boggart- McGonagal saying she failed. People brush that off like "oh what a nerd" but really it's the idea that all the stress and hardship she put herself through was for nothing.

And also her jealousy when Harry started getting better grades than her in potions sixth book.

# ? Dec 12, 2021 22:59

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

Epicurius posted:

So Visser Three actually tried sarcasm, good for him. And poor Doctors Sinegert and Singh. We hardly knew ye or your Yeerks.

I dunno, those guys had strong voluntary Controller vibes. I can imagine the lure of access to alien technology would be pretty compelling for a scientific genius, and if the trade-off is that they put a parasite in your head, that in turn might be countered if you were assured it was a scientific genius parasite that you could have sciencey conversations with all day.

quote:

As a soldier, Ax will probably cut off your hand, but the Yeerks are good at reattaching hands.

After every Animorph incursion there's a line of anxious humans and Hork-Bajir standing outside the Yeerk Pool clinic with their severed hands sitting in baggies of increasingly-melted ice. The human doctor Controller who works in the clinic has, in his ordinary life, rapidly become a world-leading expert in limb reattachment and has published multiple studies in the Lancet.

# ? Dec 12, 2021 23:41

mind the walrus: Sep 22, 2006

Mazerunner posted:

well, I dunno about that. The entire third book is her overreaching and having a stress-breakdown. One of the better bits of subtle characterization is her boggart- McGonagal saying she failed. People brush that off like "oh what a nerd" but really it's the idea that all the stress and hardship she put herself through was for nothing.

And also her jealousy when Harry started getting better grades than her in potions sixth book.

It's always flavor to the side of the main plot, is my point. It's ancillary, and aside from the Time Turner you could excise it from the plot and not really change anything. She's clearly only put in the academic stress plot because it's the excuse needed for the Time Turner (which is a solid plant and payoff). Her fear of failure isn't actually tested in any meaningful way. She has some pokes and some cold water shock, but for the most part she never has to really deal with a character truly outclassing her (which happens to every overachiever in school eventually) or being put in a situation where the team is reliant on her knowledge and she's straight up unable to do jack or poo poo which are the two most obvious places to go with that sort-of character. Part of this is because it's not her story, granted, but contrast that to these stories where the characters' ideals and motivations are very very directly challenged on a plot-to-plot basis and manages to keep the scale escalating. The characters do feel like they grow and change, even if they do mostly just reaffirm the values they already had.

freebooter posted:

I dunno, those guys had strong voluntary Controller vibes. I can imagine the lure of access to alien technology would be pretty compelling for a scientific genius, and if the trade-off is that they put a parasite in your head, that in turn might be countered if you were assured it was a scientific genius parasite that you could have sciencey conversations with all day.

Yeah most "science" types would be hungry for that. "You mean I get to ace all my exams, get access to world class labs, and all I have to do is commit a little treason to my species? Sure sounds great."

mind the walrus fucked around with this message at 00:16 on Dec 13, 2021

# ? Dec 13, 2021 00:12

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

mind the walrus posted:

Yeah most "science" types would be hungry for that. "You mean I get to ace all my exams, get access to world class labs, and all I have to do is commit a little treason to my species? Sure sounds great."

Well, maybe I've been reading too much Alastair Reynolds lately. On the other hand we've seen a lot of voluntary Controllers so far who seem to have even less of a decent reason to do it.

# ? Dec 13, 2021 04:30

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 17

quote:

Again and again, the circle glowed. A deep, agonizing red.

Hawk instinct told me to retreat. But to where?

I flapped wildly around the cube. Like an insane chicken in its cage. Nowhere to go!

�Wasted energy,� the sub-visser remarked. �You�ll wish you�d kept up your strength.�

Broken feathers littered the bare bottom of the cube. And had I been more aware, I would have noticed I�d sprained a wing.

I collapsed in a corner, exhausted. Almost destroyed by images of pain and hurt I was powerless to stop.

�Here we go again,� Taylor said brightly. �Ready? No? Too bad!�

Rick Stathis. There, at the top of the hill. Waiting for me on the sidewalk on a frigid winter morning. His breath billowed like an angry bull�s. A wide, brawny frame concealed under a heavy black coat. Pale blue eyes searched the block, hoping to see me coming.

There was no escape. He would harass me. Punch me. Why did he have it in for me? Why me? I could run the other way. Take the long route to school. But he�d find me eventually. Pound on me extra hard. My stomach churned �

And there was Aria. The young woman who said she was family. Who said she would give me a home. Care about me, even. Aria. In truth, nothing but a mask - a morph - for Visser Three. Visser Three, plotting my death.

I was a dupe. Again. -

False hope.

Never trust � never!

�Demorph, Andalite,� the sub-visser repeated, her words a low growl. �Now I�m just getting bored.�

Rapid surges of memory now. Inexorable. The cube was hot. Stifling. I struggled to draw a breath.

�Uhhh! Ahh!�

Rick slammed me against the lockers, holding me by the shirt collar. Bam! His fist against my face. I reached up to cup my bloody nose. But it was hard as bone. Curved. Sharp at the tip.

I landed on the dusty floor of Jake�s attic. Pried the lid off of a Rubbermaid container to eat the food I was too squeamish to kill.
Trapped in morph. Forever. Never to morph again. Never to be human again �

Accept it.

I can�t!

Staring out at the crescent moon. The stars. I cried in a whisper. But I knew as I spoke I had no idea where home was.

�You�re light-years from home, Andalite.� The sub-visser!

What? Had I spoken aloud?

�Your people are trillions of miles away. They grow weaker every day. There�s no one to save you.�

The prey. I was the prey. I was the hunted in every story of animal cruelty Cassie ever told us about. The Canada goose clubbed to death on the golf course. I felt my skull shatter. My confused, terrified cries. Chilling, jubilant grunts of aggression from the boys with baseball bats.

The fly lying quivering and scared on the concrete. As two classmates pulled off first one wing, then the other. A scientific experiment, they said. I felt appendages rip off my body wall.

The drone of plane engines. A frightening man-made shadow trailing me, tracking me. Responding to every turn I made. I was the wolf. Across untouched snow that glared in the sunlight. Paws pounding. Breathe. Breathe, breathe. I was the wolf I�d seen so many times in the video clip. That wolf, with foam trailing from its mouth. Exhaustion and terror in its eyes. The men in the planes shot everyone else in my pack. From the air. High-powered binoculars and a rifle. Big game hunters who say I ruin their sport. So they will chase me down. Chase me until I can�t run anymore. And fall, heart exploding, onto the plain. Victim of slaughter.

Better for the wolf who cannot fathom the evil depths in their predators� hearts. Who sees this merely in terms of nature�s hierarchy. Man is smarter. Man has run wolf down the way wolf runs down the caribou.

But I am wolf and human. I see more.

Visser Three towered huge and horrific above an injured Elfangor. Closed him in monstrous jaws. The Visser�s shrill cries of victory rang in my head. Elfangor. The father I never knew. My link to everything strong, enduring, and good in the universe.

Murdered.

Anger boiled inside me. A rage whose power made me shake. Energy that rose up and took control. Infested me. I will end him! I will end that Yeerk! The hatred carved away my insides.

Scarred me, scraped me clean.

Leave me free! I pleaded. But the anger wouldn�t go.

And I shot toward the earth, in full dive. Opened my wings quickly, to slow my descent. Glide in. Glide faster! Ready, now! Talons strained forward, outstretched. Closed over the prey. Punctured the skin. Into the heart. Around the skull. Too efficient for the squirrel to scream.

Yeeeeeeee! Yeeeeee! A bone-chilling wail. What? Hadn�t I killed it? Back up. Up. Power hard to reach the trees. Blood dripping from my talons. A warm, wriggling body flailing to break free. To live.

�You tiresome bird! Demorph!�

The hawk in me tightened its hold. The human in me screamed. And screamed again. I don�t want to do this. A life extinguished in an instant. Agony. Death. So that I could survive.

I looked down. There were no talons there. No. Only human fingers. Blood-covered fingers. Strangled by my human hands!

<Noooo!>

And I shot toward the earth, in full dive. Spread my wings wide, to slow my descent. Easy, easy. Now! Talons sprang forward. And reached.

�Gilalll. Ahhh!�

The Hork-Bajir grabbed his eyes in anguish. Blinded. I rose in the air to reach sufficient altitude to dive and strike again. And as I flew, I felt the burden of a thousand wounds, each one fresh and vivid in my mind. Weighing me down.

How can you carry such a weight? All the pain I had inflicted. Seemingly inevitable. Perhaps avoidable. Strikes made by me. A hawk. A warrior. A ruthless kid.

One deafening shriek, comprised of the voices of all those I had faced in combat overpowered me. Shook me. Hork-Bajir. Taxxon. Rabbit. Squirrel. Human.

My head filled with screams. Everything red. Excruciating. Endless, endless. Violent images rushing past like the landscape out a car window. Was this payback? Was that it?

And then:

Silence.

Peace.

Slowly, completely, the agony drained away.

The red circle flickered, and dimmed.

quote:

Steadfastness is the key word. The main factor in facing torture is steadfastness � the deep faith in the just cause, whatever the form of torture is.

Remember that the torturer is part of the machine of oppression. He participates in it for personal material gain, because he is obliged to be there (e.g., a soldier in military service), or because he is a member in military gang or death squad; however, you choose with your complete will to work for justice. You work for the light of the world and he works for the darkness. He is the one who is committing crimes and wants to hide it. You are the strong person who is chasing down injustice so that just peace may prevail.

They can torture you, but they can�t do it for long. They may try to convince you that they can torture you forever, but really they cannot . They will try to make you feel isolated from the world � you won�t listen to the news, you won�t read newspapers. You should believe and remember, however, that your friends, family and teammates and many others are doing their best effort to end your torture and to work for your immediate release. If the torture becomes worse, know that your supporters are making it more difficult for the torturers to keep you much longer. You are much stronger than the torturers; don�t show them any weakness. One day you will win and they will be persecuted for what they are doing to you and what they have done to others.

If they ask you for information, don�t give it to them. Don�t think that by giving some information they will stop torturing you, to the contrary, that will make them think that the more they �pressure� you, the more info you will give; and this is an endless process.

They want you to give up your beliefs. Maybe they�ll try to convince you that they are right and you are wrong. That is completely untrue, even if they seem to be right in minor things. ALWAYS believe that they are on the wrong side.

Even if the worst happens � if you die, that will prove your message that you are on the right side and they are wrong. You will be the martyr that every one remembers. And the torturers will have shame.-Hisham Sharabati

Chapter 18

quote:

�Arrrgh!� The sub-visser ran at the nearest Hork-Bajir and gave him a shove. He grunted, but knew better than to respond further.

�I�m a fool!� she raged suddenly, inexplicably. �Of course the pain ray can�t break you! You�re using your morph as a shield. Any sentient creature would long since have wilted from this much pain. Whatever ugly bird you are now isn�t sentient. It can�t be! You would never have lasted ��

She flipped rapidly through a manual the scientists had left on the console. She stopped on a page near the end, smiled, read some more, then slapped the book shut and tossed it across the table.

�It�s all about contrast, don�t you think?� Taylor asked. �That�s the way life is, eh? You don�t know pain unless you know pleasure. You don�t know what it is to be strong unless you�ve been weak, isn�t that right, Andalite?�

 I managed to say. <Let me know � if you ever become strong.>

�You think I�m weak now?� she shrilled. �I have you in my power, Andalite. You call me weak? No. No, I was weak. Now I�m strong. I know the difference. And when you submit, you will know the difference, too.�

Her hand moved over the blue circle. She hesitated, seemingly savoring her moment. Then she slammed down her fist.

The circle glowed. A soulful, soothing indigo.

And in my mind I heard laughter. Peals of joyous, human laughter. My own.

I bounced wildly on a trampoline. Out of control. Walked home from school barefoot, squishing cool spring mud between my toes. Felt a sugar cube melt on my tongue. Discovered that soft spot behind a cat�s ear that made Dude close his eyes in ecstasy.

�Pleasure, Andalite. Fun, isn�t it? Remembering happy days back on your filthy planet? Are you recalling happy times, running across the grass? Of course, you are. Up and down, Andalite. Pain and pleasure. I will take you into madness, Andalite.�

Pleasure.

The blue button was pleasure: intense, continuous, out of control.

The hawk didn�t know pleasure. Satisfaction, yes. The satisfaction of a good kill, the meal that followed. But happiness?

Don�t leave me, Tobias the hawk. I know what she will do, I know what the foul Yeerk will do, but oh, oh, no sadness, no fear, all gone.

Happy! Joyful!

Such happiness. Not for a hawk. Pleasure was human domain. Purely human.

I raced through the garden, stopping at a raspberry bush. Frothy ocean waves crashed against the rocks. A fairweather wind tousled my hair. I picked a berry and ate it. So sweet on my tongue. Sublime. The sun on my face.

�Young man!� From the hilltop house, perched like a lighthouse above the cove, came an elderly woman. Graying hair. A strong, deep voice. Of course! These berries were hers. This garden. I was an intruder. I turned to run. But no, something kept me there. A kindness in her eyes. Into a kitchen washed with light. Walls painted warm tones of yellow. Deep shades of blue.

Cozy, comforting heat enveloped me as I neared the stove. And the aromas! Hot cider. Homemade cinnamon rolls. Raspberry tart.

When no one else cared, Professor Powers fed me and told me stories. Gave me the illusion of home.

�You have at most twelve minutes left in morph. Maybe less! Are you a fool? Do you want to live out the rest of your life eating roadkill? Never to know such pleasure, such happiness again?�

Sudden, hideous pain!

Pain, and no hawk to save me. Agony and no escape!

No, no, no, no, I was all alone, me, just me, just Tobias, the boy.

Pain as if my body was being fed into a meat grinder. Unbearable!

Hawk! Come back, save me, protect me!

�Ticktock, ticktock, the Andalite will be a bird forever, ticktock.� She was close by. I couldn�t see her, my eyes, red with my own blood, the veins broken.

�Time�s almost up, Andalite. You�ll never run free again. Never use that fantastic tail of yours. You�ll die, so soon. How long does a hawk live?�

Rachel?

No, no, the sub-visser.

I want you with me, to be part of me, my life, not to die a bird, not to die for nothing.

Rachel?

Rachel! Rachel!

I was listening to the waves crash over the rocks.

A late spring morning. The thinning fog beaded on my face as I buzzed the shoreline, then turned inland. Glided over a baseball field, subdivisions, a strip mall. A familiar route to my destination: Rachel�s window.

I coasted in for a landing on her ledge and knocked gently against the glass with my beak. Dink. Dink.

I waited, heart pounding from exertion. Her comforter rustled. Feet padded across the floor. And there she was. Framed by the dappled sunlight of early morning.

�Hey, you,� she whispered with a smile.

<Ready for some fun?>

�You know it, Soaring Hawk.�

The others say morphing makes even Rachel look bad and I can understand. It strains the definition of beauty. But to me, she looked natural and strong. I liked watching her change. She was an eagle now.

And down into a dive!

<Yahhhhh!> We both screamed. Rotating wildly as we plummeted toward Earth in free fall from an insane height. The sand and hills and wharves raced toward us as we dropped. An awesome rush.

<Now, now!> I cried, giddy.

We spread our wings, like parachutes. Caught the air just above a whitecap breaking on shore. We found a thermal and caught the free ride. Up and up and up again. Circle after circle.

World�s greatest carnival ride.

<There is nothing, nothing like this, Tobias!> she shouted, awed by the sheer joy of flying. We weren�t a hawk and eagle on this morning. We were two humans. Rejoicing in the greatest pleasure we�d ever known. Enjoying the gift Elfangor had given us. Rising toward the brilliant, dazzling sun.

�My patience is about to end,� Taylor said quietly.

Pain.

Pleasure.

Pain.

Who was I? Where?

I lay on my back in the cube, staring into an interrogation light.

The sun. I watched it burn and shimmer. Intense and warming.

ARE YOU HAPPY, TOBIAS?

I remembered the Ellimist. The voice that came from everywhere and nowhere.

And I flapped down from the beam in Cassie�s barn to see the clothes Rachel picked for Ax�s day at school. Smiling at Marco�s sarcasm: �Rachel, he looks like he�s going to the country club to play polo. He�s like a bully magnet. Even I want to beat him up.�

And Ax: �Yes, I am fully human. Mun. Hyew-mun. Human. Huh-yew-mun.�

Then, the time I stood next to Cassie. Over a large flowerpot on her back porch. We�d all come over to see them. Two baby rabbits. �Parsley� and �Pansy� Marco had named them.

�Go ahead, Tobias. It�s your turn.� Cassie smiled encouragement. I stepped forward with my lettuce leaf. Reached a hand over those two tiny, vulnerable little lives. Trusting now, because we�d nurtured them.

And the moonlit night I galloped across the field behind Cassie�s barn. Ax just behind me. He said the grass there was of superior quality. Richer soil.

Skr-eet. Skr-eet. Skr-eet.

A deafening alarm. Blinking lights.

I closed my eyes again. Still feeding with Ax. Still crushing lush grass underhoof.

I felt the pleasure ray shutting down. I realized I was in the cube.

�Your time is up. Do you understand that? You can never escape your morph. You will be a bird till you die.�

Who said that? Rachel? Taylor, the sub-visser?

Me?

quote:

"Under torture you are as if under the dominion of those grasses that produce visions. Everything you have heard told, everything you have read returns to your mind, as if you were being transported, not toward heaven, but toward hell. Under torture you say not only what the inquisitor wants, but also what you imagine might please him, because a bond (this, truly, diabolical) is established between you and him ... These things I know, Ubertino; I also have belonged to those groups of men who believe they can produce the truth with white-hot iron. Well, let me tell you, the white heat of truth comes from another flame.�-Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

Epicurius fucked around with this message at 05:46 on Dec 13, 2021

# ? Dec 13, 2021 05:41

Remalle: Feb 12, 2020

# ? Dec 13, 2021 06:00

HisMajestyBOB: Oct 21, 2010; College Slice

drat.

# ? Dec 13, 2021 06:24

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

quote:

�Your time is up. Do you understand that? You can never escape your morph. You will be a bird till you die.�

Such a good line, with much heavier meaning than Taylor realises, circling back around to his argument with Rachel at the dance. I don't think he's ever really thought about being a permanent hawk long term: he's struggled with it when it happened, and in the day-to-day and the week-to-week, but well, there's a war on, and he doesn't really have the luxury of imagining the rest of his life beyond that. And especially since the Ellimist gave him the power to morph back he knows the option is always there, but since part of him knows that would mean he would never fly again, he's simply not even going to think about the long-term future which is part of why he got so upset when Rachel prodded him into doing so.

But also this is lol:

quote:

I was the hunted in every story of animal cruelty Cassie ever told us about. The Canada goose clubbed to death on the golf course.

Just Cassie making some casual small talk as they're in line at the cafeteria

# ? Dec 13, 2021 06:52

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

I have no idea what I would have thought if I had read this at the time.

I've said this before, but I don't think there's been a bad ghostwritten book yet. (Even the meatpacking one was well-written.) I guess these must really drop off in quality soon to garner the reputation that they have, because that's an even better track record than the Applegate books...

# ? Dec 13, 2021 10:18

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 19

quote:

�You vile little bird!� she shrieked. �Who are you? To sacrifice your body! Do you realize what you�ve done?�

Still in a stupor I rolled over and saw her pacing in front of my cube, thinking visibly. Running through her options. If she couldn�t present Visser Three with a new Andalite-Controller, what was left?

Her fear was obvious. It twisted her face. It made her breath come short and fast.

While she�d tortured me her desperation had grown.

�The Andalite bandits. Give me their location!� She stamped her foot on the floor like a frustrated, tired child. �Tell me where they are. I demand it! Where are your friends?�

I was silent.

�Your childish loyalty is amusing. But you�ll learn, Andalite.� She spoke the words bitterly and with emphasis. �You�ll learn that it�s foolish to protect your friends. Friends always betray you.�

I answered instinctively, forgetting to keep up my guard. <Mine wouldn�t.>

�Oh, wouldn�t they?� she snapped. She walked back to the table. Toward the three-color device. I could tell she had more to say, but she bottled it, and said simply, �I pity your innocence.�

Right then I had only one thought. If I could distract her, maybe the torture would stop. If I could draw her out, maybe she�d forget to press the button. For a moment. At least for a moment.

<What would you know about disloyalty?> I said, desperate.

She stiffened. �You do not ask the questions, Andalite!� she roared. �I ask. You answer.�

Her hand hovered dangerously above the red circle.

I couldn�t take any more. I couldn�t. The hawk was defeated. The human, defeated. Me, whatever

I was, I was defeated.

No more. No more pain. No more memory.

Milk-white fingers brushed the button�s surface.

Get her to talk! Appeal to her sense of power. Her pride �

<You�re very pretty,> I blurted out. Almost immediately I wished I hadn�t. Complimenting this monster made me ill. <Pretty, by what I understand of human standards.>

But she froze.

Her fingers lifted from the button -

�Yes,� she said, �I know.�

- and touched the side of her face. �There was a time when I � this body � was the prettiest and most popular girl in her school. When I had a party, everyone ��

I�d struck a nerve. Keep going. Keep her hand from the button.

<Everyone what?>

�Shut up, Andalite. Be silent, and suffer.�

<He�s going to kill you. Feed you to the Taxxons. Or do the job himself.>

That stopped her.

<You�ve failed him. Visser Three won�t tolerate failure. You know that. But I guess that�s life inthe happy little Yeerk Empire.>

She looked hard at me. She knew I was trying to provoke her. She knew I was trying to delay the pain.

She also knew I was right.

 I said. <Do you know why?>

�No.�

<Because if I surrender, you�ll live. And if I resist, you�ll die. And I want you to die.>

quote:

So, look, torture gives you compliance. I don't want compliance. I want cooperation. I don't want people to tell me what I want to hear. I don't want people to lie to me. I want them to tell me the truth. You don't get that in torture. You get it in building rapport and traditional interrogation techniques that outsmart the detainee into cooperation. There's a big difference between cooperation and compliance.. . . You know, I don't have sympathy for these terrorists. They - as you mentioned, they killed. Some of them were responsible for the death of hundreds, if not thousands of people when it comes to 9/11.

But I oppose torture because it does not work. I oppose torture because it shows that it did not help to make us safe. It actually helped our enemies, and it helps al-Qaida to recruit.-Former FBI Agent Ali Soufan, Interview on NPR's Fresh Air, September 8, 2020

Chapter 20

quote:

The sub-visser snorted derisively. �He needs me. I�m an expert on humans.�

<He has lots of human-Controllers.>

�Not like me!� she yelled, flying into a sudden rage. �I�m a voluntary, do you not know that? This girl, this human, chose this life, chose to invite me in to take control! Why? Why? Because she�d seen humans as they truly were. She chose us over her own people. Why? Because humans are weak and petty and stupid and we will rule them all, we will make them ours, all of them!�

She was shaking. From rage? From fear?

<A human would have to be very weak and foolish to turn against her own,> I said.

I had no idea what I was saying. No idea what kind of twisted person I was dealing with. She seemed to make no sense. I was throwing anything out there. Saying anything. Anything to keep her going, talking. Away from the button.

�Weak? Foolish? When I � when she walked down the hall at school, there wasn�t a boy who didn�t dream she was his.� She came right up to my cube. Her breath steamed the glass. �Not a girl who didn�t wish she were her. She was homecoming queen. Tennis champion. Student-body president. She was the princess, and the school was her court.�

What was going on? I�d never heard a Yeerk talk this way. This was Taylor I was hearing. At least as much as the Yeerk inside her.

<That doesn�t add up,> I pressed. <Not to becoming a voluntary Controller.>

She ignored me. Her eyes scanned the air as she searched her mind for the past.

�There was nothing she couldn�t do! Had it all. Humans have pleasures that Yeerks � a different world of senses, of sight and sound and touch and � nothing she couldn�t have! The memories, when we first came together, I went through them all, of course, you have to when you first infest a new host, and they were so ��

Suddenly, she fell to her knees on the cold, barren concrete.

�Then the fire. She was alone that night. My parents � her parents, her parents � were out, at some party.� Taylor shook her head and her blond hair glimmered. �I still don�t know how it happened. How it could have happened! When I, she, woke up the house was blazing. Flames attacking my door. Crackling outside my window. Smoke everywhere I couldn�t escape!�

She covered her face with her hands. Hands that I had seen change. Hands I knew were artificial,

Keep her talking, Tobias. Buy time. It�s all you have.

<What happened then?> I said, my voice soft, low.

�Terrible,� she said. �Horrible. The pain. You can�t � well, yes, maybe you can imagine. We lost our left arm. Her right leg. And my face � some came to see me in the hospital, some friends. Never again, after that. Word went around. She�s a monster. She�s hideous. One day I was queen. The next day, nothing.�

<But The Sharing, they cared?> I chanced.

�They held out friendship. Hope, in her darkest hour, they made me believe that her life wasn�t over. That I had a future. Then came the offer, if I � she � would enter their center circle - take advantage of everything they had to give me - they would repair her body. They had their own members� hospital, they said. Incredibly advanced technology. I would be whole again. I would be what I once had been!�

Taylor scrambled to her feet. She plastered her hands against the glass of my cube and stared at me. Her glare was intense, compelling. As if she were trying to make me understand.

�Maybe it seemed a little weird at first.� She slammed her palms against the cube and I shuddered. �But all I could think about were the kids at school. I hated them for forgetting me. All she wanted was for things to be the way they had been. I wanted to be envied. Envied. Do you understand!� she demanded. �I wanted all of that, all the memories, the sweet, perfect memories, I wanted to live that life.�

She�s crazy, I realized. She�s insane. The Yeerk. The girl. The line between them all confused.

Hawk. Boy.

Yeerk. Girl.

I had a terrifying moment of understanding. Pity. To be the human girl desperate, terrified, alone, all alone, needing someone to look at her without cringing. To be the Yeerk, hungry for sensations that were so intense, so powerful compared to the dull, blind life of a slug.

�I took the deal.� Taylor laughed dryly. �Two Controllers helped me, in my wheelchair, I waited down in the pool, not knowing what host, I�d only ever been Hork-Bajir before. I allowed myself to be infested, she opened herself to me, willingly. Until that moment, until I was lying on my stomach, my head held over the surface of the pool, she hadn�t known, of course, how could she? How could I?�

Taylor�s eyes closed briefly.

�This girl, this Taylor person, this insignificant injured girl wasn�t my goal, of course, I was a sub-visser, I was slated for a host who held a vital position. My mother, the chief of police. I betrayed her, of course. Helped them take her involuntarily.�

Her eyes flickered. Shame? Surely not. Not from the Yeerk. But the human? The human who was half of this split personality? Maybe.

�I didn�t want her, the older woman. I wanted these memories. I wanted the life I knew would be mine when the Yeerks, when my people, had repaired the body. And now, I am beautiful once again,�

she said triumphantly. �But look at you! Look at what you�ve become! How pathetic your hawk body is! A nothing creature. All for nothing.�

<And now you hurt others to make up for your suffering?>

She was silent.

<Who are you?>

Her face twitched. Her eyes bored in on mine.

<Who are you?> I asked again.

�I am a sub-visser of the Yeerk Empire.�

<No. You�re a weak, misguided human girl. And you are also insane.>

She hung her head. For a long time she said nothing. Looked at nothing.

Then, at last, she raised her face to me and smiled.

�Then join me in my madness, Andalite,� she said and sent my body and mind reeling into hell.

quote:

Who becomes a torturer?

Most of the men who were interviewed expressed regret about what they had done. Some of them attributed their choice of careers to traumatic childhoods where they endured violence from abusive, alcoholic fathers.

One explained that he hated his father so much and �had a strong desire to take revenge on him.� In search of something that �made me of value and position,� he applied for a job with the security forces. When his application was accepted, he welcomed the �happy news,� as he �was going to have power over people like my dominant father.�

How are they recruited?

All of the torturers in the study joined Saddam�s security forces of their own free will, sometimes using family connections or paying bribes to get the prestigious and well-paid job of security officer.

They thought they would become investigators, tasked with the job of finding and arresting enemies of the state. They were shocked when they were assigned the job of torturer, where they would have to torture dissidents while interrogating them and force them to confess to political crimes.

Unable to ask for a transfer, the recruits faced a stark choice: lose their job or become a torturer. Many who stayed did so because they were poor and needed the money. One recalled telling his mother that he had gotten a great job with the security forces and assured her that he would take care of her and she would no longer have to live in poverty.

When he found out he was assigned the job of torturer, he said he �was not able to say anything because of my fear of losing the job, and because of my fear of going back to my mother and disappointing her after all the promises I had made.�

How do they justify their actions?

Torturers convinced themselves that they were saving the country and that their victims deserved what they got. After his first day of training, one asked a colleague, �What sins did those persons who were tortured in front of me commit?�

The colleague answered: �Their sins are huge and cannot be forgiven! Their sins are that they want to topple the regime, disturbing our government and dispersing chaos, terrorism, looting and killing. Don�t you ever believe that any one of those is a victim! We are the victims of them.�

The recruit �spent that night thinking of how I would be able to hold the cable and beat those people with it. � However, I remembered his words and that those people were just traitors and criminals, and I thought to myself, �Yes! They deserve all that torture, as they are trying to betray the country, and so they have to get what they deserve!��- Dr. Christopher Einolf. Associate Professor of Sociology-Northern Illinois University, from his study of the Iraqi History Project's interviews with Saddam Hussein's horturers

# ? Dec 14, 2021 04:48

Comrade Blyatlov: Aug 4, 2007; should have picked four fingers

A Chief of Police is a frightening Controller. In very short order you could be infesting every single person who passes through the cells. Get enough of the staff and you might be able to turn that into every single person who enters the building.

# ? Dec 14, 2021 05:05

FlocksOfMice: Feb 3, 2009

They're very broken but I do like the example of symbiosis happening with their identities? I feel like if the yeerks weren't a lovely military empire they could do real great business as permanent head pals for struggling people. Never be alone again!

# ? Dec 14, 2021 05:25

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

A Chief of Police is a frightening Controller. In very short order you could be infesting every single person who passes through the cells. Get enough of the staff and you might be able to turn that into every single person who enters the building.

"Ok, sir, new security procedure for entering. I'm going to have to ask you to first go through that metal detector and then stick your ear in that bowl."

# ? Dec 14, 2021 05:45

GodFish: Oct 10, 2012; We're your first, last, and only line of defense. We live in secret. We exist in shadow.

And we dress in black.

I'd do a timeshare with a yeerk if it got to do my 40 hours of work each week and I got my body the rest of the time

# ? Dec 14, 2021 08:17

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

GodFish posted:

I'd do a timeshare with a yeerk if it got to do my 40 hours of work each week and I got my body the rest of the time

I think that's called a "slave", actually.

But without further ado,

Chapter 21

quote:

The blue button glowed. I laughed crazily. Like being tickled, I couldn�t stop.

And then:
<Ahhh!> Punched in the gut. The red circle screamed.

Blue. Giddy, laughing hysterically. Eating ice cream.

Red. Slapped in the face. Struck with a two-by-four. Surgery without anesthesia.

I flew up, flung myself at the glass. <Stop!> I cried. I wanted it to end. If she wouldn�t stop, I would end it myself. By ending me.

I threw myself against the side of the cube. My beak cracked. Splinters of pain electrified my face.

The blue button lit up and I was laughing madly.

The red button roared and I was gripped with grief. My aunt�s voice: I don�t want him! He�s nothing to me. Where does Loren get off dumping him here?

Again I shot toward the wall.

�I�ve got you now!� Taylor cried.

<Stop!> I cried again, barely able to speak. I fell into a corner. The room was dimming quickly now. The light that had seemed so bright was just a dull glow. Disappearing.

Disappearing �

Alone. I was alone!

Ax, Jake, Cassie, Marco. How could they do this to me?! Abandon me here! I hate everyone who isn�t here. Who isn�t going through this with me.

If only Rachel were here. Rachel �

No! She�s dead. Dead or trapped. All of us. All the ones I love �

<Ahhhh!>

A pain! Greater than anything!

What did this lunatic girl want from me? What did she want? She no longer cared what she got out of me. This was pain for its own sake. Hurt for no purpose but to hurt.

She would kill me. No, no, she wouldn�t! She would keep me alive, alive in this inferno.

<I�ll tell you,> I screamed. <Yes, I�ll tell you! Ax � in the woods. Cassie. Jake. Marco. All just human kids. Anything � anything to make it end!>

Did she hear? Did she not hear my thought-speak cry?

She slammed her fist on the pain button.

<I�ll tell you! No! I�ll tell you!>

No sound coming from me. Or did she not hear? Or was I not making a sound? Was I even still alive?

Down, swirling down. The world �

Dimming �

Death. Was this death?

And I was walking in the woods. A path lined with trees whose upper boughs met in cathedral arches. Near the school. After a play we�d put on. �Is your father here tonight?� the teacher had asked.

�Yeah. Where�s your dad?� said a classmate.

I followed the trail through the woods. My heart so full. I stopped at a clearing. A point stuck up out of the dirt, gleamed in the moonlight, caught my eye. I dug in the surrounding earth, trying to free the object. Deeper and deeper.

A hard, scythe-shaped blade. I held it before me. Why did it seem so familiar? So much a part of me? I looked beyond it into the evening sky. And froze.

Two moons cast a warm yellow light over the woods. Over thick asparagus-spear trees.

What!

This wasn�t Earth! This was �

The moonlight brightened to a strong and dazzling brilliance. It compelled my gaze. I couldn�t look away. I didn�t want to.

<Tobias,> he said.

I started, scared. The light faltered.

<Don�t be afraid.>

A broad face came into focus. A familiar face. An Andalite.

I watched as a tail arced upward. Curved slowly over his back and moved toward me. A shiver. As the cool flat of his blade pressed against my forehead. It was electric. Like nothing I�ve felt before or since.

A new surge of memories! But how? How can they be memories when I haven�t lived them?

They�re new to me, though they seem like mine. No, these were not my own.

They were �

quote:

. For the purposes of this Convention, the term "torture" means any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person for such purposes as obtaining from him or a third person information or a confession, punishing him for an act he or a third person has committed or is suspected of having committed, or intimidating or coercing him or a third person, or for any reason based on discrimination of any kind, when such pain or suffering is inflicted by or at the instigation of or with the consent or acquiescence of a public official or other person acting in an official capacity. It does not include pain or suffering arising only from, inherent in or incidental to lawful sanctions.-Definition of torture, UN Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment

Chapter 22

quote:

<Pull up! Pull up! War-Prince Elfangor!> An urgent transmission from the commander of the fighter squadron. On the view screen: a Des-badeen tanker in the distinctive figure eight design.

<Positive burn cut to zero. Still-speed compensators engaged.> The fighter�s computer voice broadcast thought-speak data with admirable calm. <Large alien obstruction ahead. Two seconds to impact.>

Every particle of my body focused on the hole of the figure eight. Guide the ship through that opening. Clearing it was my only hope.

The computer voice: <Required clearance not found. Warning. Warning. Escape pod activated!>

I fumbled wildly for the clasps. The sides of the ship scraped and erupted into fire. Searing heat scorched my arms and flank.

Ka-choomp!

The ship ejected me into space. But I couldn�t clear the Desbadeen craft! The gray wall of steel filled my vision!

<Ahhhh!>

I hit like a bullet.

Rods of fire in every bone. My body tossed from wall to wall as the pod hurtled uncontrollably through space. Stars streaked the blackness. The Dome ship. Too far � too far. I was alone. Red colored the air. Screams and bellowing filled my head. The battle raged on the Taxxon home world.

�Sssseeeeeyaaa!�

A hundred Taxxon teeth bit down on my leg.

�Sssreeee!�

Another mouth sliced into my forearm.

I had to fight! Kill to survive!

Sshhhwing! I whipped my tail up from my rear and sliced clean through his belly.

�Skkkreeeee-eeeeeee!� A cry of horror I will never forget. My first kill.

I looked at the second Taxxon. Into those gelatinous eyes. Those who say you can�t read emotion in Taxxon eyes are fools. I saw terror there. A plea for life. My hearts pounded. Nausea.

�Ssssnnnnaaaaa!�

I cut a gaping hole in its side. It released my arm. Fell to the ground, shrieking in agony. I turned, and with a retching noise expelled the morning�s grass.

So this was war.

I stood on the grass near the Dome ship�s lake. Stared into the crystals that grew up from the water. A seductive, hypnotic green.

Loren. I longed to have her here next to me. To hear her say my name. To see our son.

I performed a ritual for his safety and health.

Five years since the Ellimist returned me to my proper time. Five years since I left my life on Earth to resume Andalite form and honor my duty.

And I thought of my future. Would I accomplish anything in this fight for freedom? Was the struggle, the pain, the loneliness endured in vain? Would I die before I defeated the enemy?

The icy tail blade against my forehead cooled my fevered mind. Kept me alive.

<You�re not alone in your suffering. You may die, Tobias, but never alone. You are one in a legion of great warriors. Valiant Andalites who have died for freedom. Your lineage is courage and bravery. If you live, you carry our torch. A burden carried by many. A singular honor �>[/i]

The brightness began to fade.

A final, overwhelming surge of things lived by Elfangor. Warrior. Intellectual. Oh, how he had lived! Endured. Accomplished. A sense of purpose. Things I couldn�t comprehend. Things I could. Things I might become.

Dimmer and dimmer. To a pinpoint of light. I felt my body shudder and I knew that I was dying. That pinpoint was life.

<I�ll make the Andalite filth talk!> Visser Three�s far-off, threatening voice struck my ear.

Hold to the pinpoint. Hold!

Just as the light was about to extinguish, I felt the torture device flicker, and stop. The pinprick of light began to grow. Until at last I no longer looked into darkness, but saw the cube around me. I was flattened against the floor. Defeated, but alive.

The last, fading strain of Elfangor�s voice:

<Out of a respect for life, you have to endure.>

quote:

I made a choice. It's very easy. You have two choices. You either say something or you don't. And you know that if you don't, they will go on, and there is a limit to your strength and you will die. You will endure enough to die. . . I only had to survive for [my children]. Nothing else mattered. After that, nothing could touch me.
--Odette Hallowes, SOE Agent for Britain in WWII on surviving her imprisonment and torture by the Nazis

Epicurius fucked around with this message at 06:09 on Dec 15, 2021

# ? Dec 15, 2021 04:25

mind the walrus: Sep 22, 2006

quote:

I said. <Do you know why?>

�No.�

<Because if I surrender, you�ll live. And if I resist, you�ll die. And I want you to die.>

This has no loving business being as raw as it is

# ? Dec 15, 2021 06:42

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

FlocksOfMice posted:

They're very broken but I do like the example of symbiosis happening with their identities? I feel like if the yeerks weren't a lovely military empire they could do real great business as permanent head pals for struggling people. Never be alone again!

I keep saying, if the Yeerks had taken the tact of the Visitors from V (both versions, really), just "We come in peace, we're here to be your new companions, look at all this cool poo poo we have and are willing to share with you.", Earth would be theirs in a month.

# ? Dec 15, 2021 08:17

ConanThe3rd: Mar 27, 2009

Wasn't that, in a clandestine way, what The Sharing was supposed to be?

# ? Dec 15, 2021 08:28

Comrade Blyatlov: Aug 4, 2007; should have picked four fingers

ConanThe3rd posted:

Wasn't that, in a clandestine way, what The Sharing was supposed to be?

When V1 was in charge, yeah. And honestly, they had some pretty good plans that have been foiled by those damned kids.

# ? Dec 15, 2021 08:48

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

When V1 was in charge, yeah. And honestly, they had some pretty good plans that have been foiled by those damned kids.

Visser One is definitely one of those "victory has defeated you" characters, to quote my man Bane.

# ? Dec 15, 2021 08:51

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

When V1 was in charge, yeah. And honestly, they had some pretty good plans that have been foiled by those damned kids.

Not really. The Sharing has always been a front for total control by the Yeerks. Visser 1 is more subtle than Visser 3. Visser 1 is more self controlled than Visser 3. Visser 1 understands humanity and human psychology better than Visser 3. Don't assume this means Visser 1 is more compassionate than Visser 3, or less ruthless, or any kinder.

# ? Dec 16, 2021 03:03

Comrade Blyatlov: Aug 4, 2007; should have picked four fingers

I misread the original suggestion, I was thinking of the initial cult-like beginning of the Sharing.

# ? Dec 16, 2021 03:11

Tree Bucket: Apr 1, 2016; R.I.P.idura leucophrys

As a kid I kind of assumed the Yeerks and Andalites controlled most of the galaxy between them, and that their war had been going for centuries or more.
I felt unaccountably relieved to discover this fictional war is a fairly minor thing on the galactic scale.

# ? Dec 16, 2021 03:14

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 23

quote:

<This will make him talk.>

The thought-speak voice of Visser Three.

He stood behind Taylor. Her face was blank. No emotion. Then I saw her glance down at the floor. At the hatch that opened onto the starved Taxxons below.

Two Hork-Bajir banged through the door just behind the Visser. They carried a thick pole slung through a large wire cage. In the cage, a bald eagle.

An eagle!

Rachel! It must be Rachel!

The visser could hardly contain his enthusiasm.

<This eagle was found near the community center. How audacious and foolhardy of your friends, Andalite! For we have seen the bandits use this morph before.>

He swaggered confidently toward my cube. Pointed a long Andalite finger at the eagle.

<Tell me all you know. Or I will feed your fellow Andalite to the Taxxons.>

<No,> I whispered. <No, I �> I started to speak. I struggled to focus my eyes. To see past the leaden veil of fatigue.

The bird was badly injured. With a broken wing. Blood ran down its leg. Feathers matted and missing from the chest.

I breathed.

<Speak! Or he dies!> The visser roared.

<You�ll get nothing from me, Yeerk,> I said.

<You dare defy me! You dare resist!> He swung his tail blade and whipped his stalk eyes savagely. <Now!> he screamed.

�You want me to open the hatch?� Taylor asked.

<I�ve made my own arrangements,> the visser said coldly.

The hatch remained closed. Instead the door opened and two slobbering Taxxons, monstrous centipedes, skittered in on their rows of needle legs.

Red, globular eyes wiggled anxiously. Long, thin tongues smacked hundreds of razor-sharp teeth. <Open the cage!>

�Shouldn�t we torture it, Visser?� Taylor asked, her voice tight with excitement. �This one might talk. We might get results.�

<No! This one will die! That one,> he pointed at me, <will talk.>

A Hork-Bajir undid the latch. The Taxxons rushed the cage, knocking it over in their eagerness. The eagle flapped and squawked, but it was over in a few bites.

I was coming back to life. I even tried to rise. The visser peered in at me, disappointed. But no longer in an eager rage.

<Kill this one, too,> he said flatly. <But do it slowly. See if you can, at least, do this much well,> sneered the visser as he turned and left the room.

This would be it. I knew that. I would die in the next round of torture. I would try to die well. I braced myself for the attack, took a last look around the room. It was just me, the sub-visser, and twelve hulking Hork-Bajir.

And �

I stumbled back.

<Already so weak!> the sub-visser mocked. <And we haven�t even begun!>

No way. I had to be hallucinating. My frazzled mind was playing a trick on me. This couldn�t be real.

I knocked my head against the glass just to make sure I was conscious. I was. So what I saw growing up from the floor, behind the sub-visser, was no mirage!

Silently, unseen by all but me.

A single Andalite emerging from flea morph!

quote:

�Soon after the German invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939, my father Abraham, the youngest and only unmarried sibling of seven Bursztajns, had been left in charge of the family�s lumber yards in Lodz, while most of the remainder of the family had left for Warsaw.

During World War I, Warsaw had been a relatively safe haven, and my father-not having other family responsibilities-volunteered for the dangerous job of overseeing the family�s holdings in what was considered to be an area far more likely to be involved in the fighting. He was eventually captured by the Nazis, thrown into jail, and tortured. The Nazis had established a list of prominent Jewish families who had assets.

My father�s family was on this list, and he was tortured to reveal their whereabouts. He did not. In the midst of being tortured, after a particularly severe whipping with a cat o�nine tails, Abraham fainted. He was surprised to awaken in the jail infirmary. His torturers had not given up hope of making him reveal his family�s whereabouts, and they wanted to keep him alive to continue the torture.

�Before him stood a doctor, himself a Jewish prisoner, who ministered to the other prisoners. �I will die here,� my father said to the older man. �One of us will, but it will be me,� said the physician. �I do not have any way to treat you, but you are young. If you don�t give up hope, you will survive.�� - Harold Bursztajn, Reflections on My Father�s Experience with Doctors During the Shoah (1939-1945)

Chapter 24

quote:

A smooth blue chin emerged from piercing, sucking mouthparts. Andalite arms sprouted from tiny flea legs.

Ax?

Another hallucination. It had to be.

And yet, there he was, rising up from behind a solid dozen Hork-Bajir warriors.

<Tobias,> he whispered. <Do not let them see you staring.>

Ax against twelve Hork-Bajir? Impossible.

<The others jumped off outside,> he said, as if he�d read my mind. <They will be along shortly. As soon as I open the door. We morphed fleas to travel on the body of the doomed bald eagle from Cassie�s barn.>

Could I believe my eyes? My frazzled mind?

<The Chee have secured an escape route,> he added.

�Hear me, Andalite,� Taylor said to me. �You�ve caused me to lose the visser�s trust. You may well have destroyed me. And now, I will make you pay. Oh, yes. I�ve given you pain. I�ve given you pleasure. You�ve experienced them in succession. But never both at once. I will tear your mind apart!�

I tensed. Praying that I would survive.

Fwapp!

Ax�s tail slapped the door handle.

Fwapp!

The nearest Hork-Bajir went down, not even knowing what had hit him.

Sudden explosions of violence. A flash of Marco, huge and powerful in gorilla morph. A tiger, slashing. Hork-Bajir running. The wolf, so fast, so accurate with its dangerous white teeth.

And the bear.

The huge, slashing, bellowing, death-dealing grizzly bear in a rage.

Rachel.

She looked at me. Even with dim bear vision she could guess what had happened to me. Five Hork-Bajir were dropped in as many seconds, three of them from swift, brutal encounters with Rachel.

Marco shoved Taylor rudely aside. He had no way of knowing who she was. What she was.

�A gorilla!� she yelped.

<Oh, it�s a gorilla, all right, lady!> Marco yelled. <But this here is the new, improved gorilla morph. Now with tools.>

He reached the wall and heaved a grappling hook into the air. Over a steel beam. It clanked and connected.

�Stop him!� Taylor yelled. �Stop him!�

<Climb, man! Climb!> Jake coached.

Three Hork-Bajir dashed after Marco. Jake let rip a fearsome roar.

The remaining row of warriors lunged. Seized on Jake with blades flashing and harsh shouts roared in the Hork-Bajir tongue.

�Ghafrash!! Gulferch Andalites!�

But they hadn�t checked their backs.

A blur of Andalite tail blade and one was down. A snarl and chomp of wolf jaws and another fell to the floor, cradling his leg. That left five. Five dazzling, muscular machines of destruction.

Marco leaped at the wall. Feet against it, hands clutching the rope, he climbed quickly toward the ceiling. Nostrils flaring. His small eyes widening as he strained in rhythmic grunts toward his goal.

<The girl!> I yelled.

Taylor was running for the weapon cabinet, torture device in hand. Cassie grabbed her heel. Yanked back and forth.

�Get off me! Yahhh!� She slammed Cassie across the muzzle with the control device.

Cassie yipped and lost her hold.

Marco was swinging from conduit to conduit now. Flying across the ceiling like a giant monkey in the rain forest canopy. Two Hork-Bajir were in pursuit, just one swing behind. Another midway up the rope. It wasn�t hard to tell they had evolved as tree-dwellers. Marco grabbed for a smaller pipe.

<Waaaaahhh!>

It was no pipe at all! Just a bundle of wires, unsecured. They began to snap under Marco�s weight.

Kkkkkkkeeehh! Kkkkeh!

Sparks flew as the wires broke. But Marco held on, clutching the cable like a vine, swinging desperately to reach the cube. One of the Hork-Bajir dangled from a nearby beam. He raised his elbow blades into position and slashed the wire.

Zzzzzzz. Kkkkkkk. Zzzzzz.

A blue flash!

A visible charge of controlled lightning arced from the wires to the Hork-Bajir. He shook and trembled in the grisly grips of electrocution. I looked away. He dropped to the floor.

Thwoomp!

Two mammoth gorilla feet struck the top of my cube. It swayed violently and smacked me against the wall.

<Sorry, man!> Marco yelled as he wrapped a giant hand around the steel cable that suspended the cube. <But there�s a time for delicacy and this ain�t it!> He tightened thick fingers around a bolt head, securing the top of my cube to the cable. He twisted with all his might, trying to loosen the connection that held me a helpless, dangling prisoner.

BOOM! BOOM!

BOOM! BOOM!

Four clawlike Hork-Bajir feet etched the top of the cube. Sent it bobbing out of control.

<Ahhh!> Marco scrabbled to find his balance. The Hork-Bajir flailed, looking for a hold.

�Gilaaaaaaa!�

One slipped off, unsuccessful.

Floomp. Tasssshh!

He crashed to the floor. Green-blue blood began to ooze from his chest. Impaled on his own tail blade! We were an out-of-control pendulum. How could the other Hork-Bajir maintain?!

And then I saw how. He had found a hold. And the hold was Marco�s flank.

Marco fell to his knees on the cube. His face, contorted with agony, teeth bared, pressed onto the glass.

<Ahhhhhhh!> he screamed.

The Hork-Bajir, eyes bulging from strain, muscles flexing powerfully, struck again.

Ptt. Ptt. Ptt.

Red droplets began to spatter the top of the glass. The Hork-Bajir had slashed and embedded a wrist blade deep in Marco�s flesh. The more they struggled, the more we bobbed. An unanchored raft.

Pttpttpttptt. The blood splattered more quickly now.

<Marco! Forget me. Just free yourself. He�s killing you!>

Marco grunted, agonized. He continued to work on the bolts.

<No,> he gasped.

Two Hork-Bajir had Ax pinned into a corner. Another two slashed mercilessly at Jake. He swiped back with lightning-fast claws, but he was a bloody mess. Missing an ear.

<Marco!> Cassie screamed.

The sub-visser spun 180 degrees. From the weapon cabinet to the room�s center. She extended her arm. Her hand clutched a Dracon beam. Aimed �

<Marco!> I screamed.

Directly above my head.

At Marco!

BOOM! BOOM!

BOOM! BOOM!

Two more Hork-Bajir landed on the cube. �Arrrgh!� Taylor shouted. Cassie leaped and knocked her down. Too late!

She fired.

quote:

Today, six years ago, I was smuggled out of prison. I was obviously traumatized because of the torture, the starvation and the brutality I went through. Despite being free, it seemed hopeless, dark and scary. I was afraid to meet the world, I was afraid to not be understood. Today, by telling my story repeatedly, I can finally process the trauma and I can celebrate the day I was freed.- Omar Alshogre. Syrian refugee and human rights activist, statement on his twitter account, June 11. 2021

# ? Dec 16, 2021 04:21

SSJ_naruto_2003: Oct 12, 2012

At first I thought that last bit was uhh, weird to have in the book but then saw the date

# ? Dec 16, 2021 05:49

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

SSJ_naruto_2003 posted:

At first I thought that last bit was uhh, weird to have in the book but then saw the date

Yea. I don't feel qualified to comment on these chapters, honestly, so I'm posting information about torture.

# ? Dec 16, 2021 06:15

HisMajestyBOB: Oct 21, 2010; College Slice

Epicurius posted:

Yea. I don't feel qualified to comment on these chapters, honestly, so I'm posting information about torture.

They're good additions.

# ? Dec 16, 2021 14:45

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 25, 2024 17:16

Capfalcon: Apr 6, 2012; No Boots on the Ground,
Puny Mortals!

HisMajestyBOB posted:

They're good additions.

I've finally caught up, so let me just add my enthusiastic agreement.

Also, this is the point in the series where I finally "got" the idea of what might be like for Yeerks symbiotes instead of parasites.

I know we're basically dealing with the heirs/founders of the Yeerks who were big enough jerks/had enough balls to mug some Andalites for their tech and high-tail it out of there. Makes me wonder what the Andalite plan was before that happened.

# ? Dec 16, 2021 15:50

The Something Awful Forums > Archives > Comedy Goldmine > Let's Read Animorphs! The Whole Series! Ch-ch-ch-chaaanges

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