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

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nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Esplin's going to carve his name into the Moon with a giant dracon beam, but Jake is going to stop him just in time, so the infested population of Earth gets to look up every night from there onward and wonder what the hell "ESP" means.

nine-gear crow fucked around with this message at 05:17 on May 11, 2022

# ? May 11, 2022 05:10

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# ? May 23, 2024 17:36

CidGregor: Sep 27, 2009; TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off

nine-gear crow posted:

Esplin's going to carve his name into the Moon with a giant dracon beam, but Jake is going to stop him just in time, so the infested population of Earth gets to look up every night from there onward and wonder what the hell "ESP" means.

ok Chairface

# ? May 11, 2022 20:52

Strom Cuzewon: Jul 1, 2010

The enemy want to blow up the moon, so we have to blow it up in a way that's better for us!

Kojima just realised that his metaphors on the futility of war may have been too subtle.

# ? May 11, 2022 22:16

Strategic Tea: Sep 1, 2012

Please don't impugn the writing of the new villain, Yeerk Headman

# ? May 11, 2022 22:30

dungeon cousin: Nov 26, 2012; woop woop
loop loop

I kinda wonder who Visser One is if Marco is Visser Two. Could be Chapman or maybe Tom since Esplin as emperor. Also what's going on with Jake in this timeline? You would think he would be a high ranking officer like Marco and Ax but here he's working as a planetary engineer for the moon project, and he doesn't seem to have an especially prominent role.

# ? May 11, 2022 22:37

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 15

quote:

I boarded a shuttle that dropped me on an empty docking pad, cantilevered off the face of the building two hundred feet above the street. The Chrysler Building�s Mylar wrap gleamed reddish brown in the city�s frightening glow.

A powerful gust slapped me off balance and ripped at my hair as I stepped toward a heavy steel panel. The panel began to rise.

How would I save our moon from transfiguration, from becoming a beacon of Yeerk strength, an irreversible enemy triumph? How could I obliterate the chance that Kandrona would forever taint Earth�s surface with its malignant rays?

If only I had clear-cut instructions, like: Infiltrate enemy science headquarters, corrupt the latest state-of-the-art Yeerk technology, blow up the moon. Hey, that even sounded vaguely familiar. We�d done stuff like that before, right? No problem.

But it wasn�t that simple. She said I had to wait.

Wait for orders from a Cassie I didn�t even know! Why was I letting it happen? No Animorph would ever take orders from a Yeerk. Hadn�t I made that a ground rule?

I stepped across the threshold. Second-guessing my decision to help Cassie. And third-guessing it, and fourth-guessing it.

The panel shut behind me, sealing out the immutable hum I�d come to know meant Yeerk business as usual. Small, triangular lights reddened the floor, pointing me toward a nearby gravity lift.

With all the false confidence I could muster I entered the clear, semicircular enclosure, hovering in the air just outside the Mylar sheath. There were a half-dozen other riders. Two humans, an Andalite, and some pinkish creatures I�d never seen before.

<Figured you had abandoned us for the home world,> the Andalite teased.

�Had to visit the clinic. Problems with my host. He has a rebellious history.�

�I hear you, man,� said a tall human male. �My host used to work for the ACLU and he just won�t shut up about how I�m infringing on his rights. I don�t want to worry you, but the pills don�t really work.�

The lift rushed upward with unsettling acceleration. I put a hand on the wall for balance and looked out over the corridor of death and wreckage carved by the explosion. The collapsed skyscraper still smoked and cindered.

<They seem to grow stronger every day,> the Andalite commented. He didn�t say who �they� were, but I knew he meant the EF. His voice was calm enough, the way you�d expect a member of the ruling class to sound when speaking of the oppressed. But his tone revealed more. Today�s explosion marked a turning point. In the mind of this Andalite-Controller, the EF had just crossed the line from nuisance to threat.

�You�re just in time for this afternoon�s group efficiency workshop,� piped up another of the humans. �Peer Communication Skills - Conquest through Companionship.�

�Never miss one,� I stated positively.

The lift doors opened onto a vast room. A sea of short, shiny, stainless steel cubicles shone under glaring lights. I followed the taller human into a large open area with metal stools, most already occupied. A holographic short film played at the front of the room. It depicted an Andalite-Controller passing the cubicle of a Hork-Bajir-Controller.

<May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you,> the Andalite said. The Hork-Bajir didn�t respond, just kept working.

The holo paused at that frame and a female Andalite at the front of the room asked the assembled group, <What was missing from that interaction that could have facilitated team compatibility?>

That�s a tough one, lady, I thought. But I�ll go out on a limb here and guess that it�s free will. I turned on my heels and wound through the paths between cubicle walls. I had no idea where I was going, but I pretended I did. Almost everyone smiled as I passed. One guy even slapped my back and said, �Hey, Essak Ready for the big night?�

The big night. What was that about? The guy in the hovercraft had asked me about a launch. Were the Yeerks firing this moon ray tonight?!

Find your desk, Jake. I looked at my badge. Sector 5-682. The cubicles had number plates: 679, 680, 681.

I stood over the computer monitor assigned to me. A model of the Chrysler Building spire rotated and twisted its way across the screen. It was framed by strings of numbers that changed as the model turned.

It was just like that dream where you show up for the final exam in some class, and it suddenly hits you that you haven�t studied at all. In fact, you haven�t been to the class at all and now you have to pass the test.

I looked around. Everyone else had silver probes hung on their ears. There was one on my desk. It looked like a tape dispenser, but I picked it off the console and fit it to my ear. Looked at the monitor. And suddenly �

Whoa! The 3-D model flashed! The image was uncontrollable. Unstoppable! My brain was panicking, racing. I tried to mask the monitor from view so that my cubicle neighbors wouldn�t sound the impostor alarm.

Then, I realized �

I controlled the movement. The screen reflected whatever command my mind issued. Under other circumstances, this would have been extremely cool. Slow, I ordered, easy. My mind relaxed and so did the images. I made the screen flip through pictures at a normal speed. I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when I felt eyes staring at me. I looked up. There was a communal workstation directly in front of my cubicle. I�d passed through it on my way. Noticed focused, hardworking aliens of various species, studying their own screens, consulting other screens.

Now, they�d stopped working.

�Boss?� a Hork-Bajir huskily. �You okay, boss?�

Oh, my God. These guys were working for me and they�d seen my screen wig out! Did they know I was a phony, a fake, an infiltrator? Could they tell?

I moved to shuffle papers on my desk, to look occupied and cover up my ignorance, but there weren�t any papers to shuffle. �Yup,� I said casually. I tinkered with my earpiece and frowned down

at my screen, seriouslike. �I was just, you know, giving the old mind a rest.� After a few seconds, I glanced back at the communal workstation, hoping my crew had returned to business and forgotten everything they�d just seen me do.

But when I looked at my crew, I saw � my crew �

I still say my favorite part about the Yeerks is that they have corporate management seminars. Even alien parasites....

Chapter 16

quote:

Seats just moments ago occupied by busy Controllers - healthy, breathing, living Controllers - now held �

I blinked just to make sure.

Oh, yeah.

The seats held the raw, bloody, dismembered bodies of enemies I had faced in battle. My past was staring back at me.

You have to understand that I really didn�t think what I was seeing was real. And yet, under the harsh fluorescent lights, there was no mistaking that the corpses were there.

A Hork-Bajir corpse rose out of a chair. His mauled body had been ripped apart by the claws of my tiger morph. How could he stand?! He wasn�t even breathing! His muscles were decomposing!

And yet he staggered out from behind the console and started toward me. He stretched his arm forward, extended his wrist blade and reached �reached for me! A growling rumbled in a voice box that wasn�t there. Tiger jaws had ripped it out.

I turned to run. I was crazy. I was nuts!

Total insanity was twisting my brain!

But when I tried to move, my path was blocked by a Leeran�s stocky form, its pebbly, slimy skin run dry.

�Ahh!� Its webbed feet had been severed by a shark�s teeth. My shark morph�s teeth. Only thin, fibrous ligaments kept the feet moving with the body. The large, luminous, Leeran eyes were lifeless.

And yet he shuffled toward me, and I felt him say my name.

Jake, he chanted. Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake.

I stiffened and backed into my cubicle. I could smell them now. Their decay and rot. Death, pressing nearer and nearer!

Behind the Hork-Bajir, a Taxxon�s jelly eyes gaped and a three-foot tongue dangled limp from its open mouth. A tiger slash had flayed it from neck to belly. Its innards oozed. Flies swarmed at the opening. Maggots churned in the wound. Lobsterlike Taxxon claws clacked like castanets as it strained and reached for me.

Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake.

The chanting continued. The smells, the growling, the buzzing flies, the blood �

�No,� I breathed. It�s a vision. This is your past � haunting you � This isn�t real! Not real!

I needed to climb over the cubicle wall. They were coming!

Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake.

I put a hand on the partition and tried to pull myself over it, but I had no strength.

A rat appeared between the corpses� slow-moving feet. Running blindly, frantically. Bumping into dismembered alien parts. Recoiling, then starting out again. I knew it was David. The kid we turned into an Animorph. The kid who betrayed us. One bad decision after another. Trapped and helpless because of me �

Corpses had crowded into my cubicle! The Leeran�s tentacles brushed my arm!

�No!�

The Taxxon�s claws closed over my fingers! A raw, blood-dipped Hork-Bajir claw pressed against my cheek.

I closed my eyes. My heart pounded.

The rat scampered up my leg and sank its teeth into my skin.

�Nooo!�

The bodies of the enemies I�d destroyed �

�No, No, NOOOOO!�

�KEEEEEEEE-row!�

I opened my eyes and the cubicle had disappeared. I was tumbling through the air, spinning, plummeting out of control! I was in wild free fall next to a Howler.

�KEEEEEE-row!�

Another mind-splitting cry! The planet floor was racing up! The Howler was clawing the air, screaming in rage. Screaming! Because I�d led him off the ledge.

Rat teeth sliced my skin. Webbed fingers slapped at my face. A Taxxon tongue covered me with spit. Hork-Bajir blades began to slice �

The ground, racing up!

�KEEEEEEEE-row!�

I couldn�t take anymore. Too much! Too much!

�AHH! AHH! AHH!� I screamed and screamed and screamed.

Then, instantly, all went silent.

I gasped and jumped up from where I lay, sweating and cowering against the cool cubicle wall.

Confused, out of my mind, I stared ahead.

�Boss?�

I jerked my head toward the communal workstation. Normal Controllers sat behind the console, a Hork-Bajir and a Taxxon among them.

They looked at me in alarmed disbelief.

I felt like I always did when I woke from a nightmare. Startled, a little embarrassed, but mostly

just grateful that even this reality was less than the terror of the dream.

There was a bustling down the hall.

Orff and Hork-Bajir steamed through the maze of cubicles. Security was heading straight for me. Leading them, storming fast and angrily, was a stone-faced human, tall and sturdily built. I felt I should know this person.

There was something familiar �

�Get him!� he roared. The guards moved as one.

It couldn�t be true. Yet it was true. This wasn�t another nightmare vision. It was real!

The man who was ordering a security force to apprehend me was the man who�d played catch with me as a child, who�d taught me how to swim. The man who had changed my diapers. My friend. My role model.

My father.

Do you think that's awkward....when you meet somebody that your host knew or was close to? Is there some sort of special Yeerk etiquette there, or is it just a "Huh, small world!"?

# ? May 12, 2022 04:29

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

Waking PTSD hallucinations. Holy moly.

# ? May 12, 2022 05:15

FlocksOfMice: Feb 3, 2009

Holy hell this one's really popping off. I, uh, wow, okay that's intense. I wish I had gotten this far as a child I'm desperately curious what this trauma would have done to me.

# ? May 12, 2022 05:17

Rosalie_A: Oct 30, 2011

dungeon cousin posted:

I kinda wonder who Visser One is if Marco is Visser Two. Could be Chapman or maybe Tom since Esplin as emperor.

It's gotta be Chapman. Even as Visser One he still needs to be a perpetual vice principal.

# ? May 12, 2022 14:21

WrightOfWay: Jul 24, 2010

Nah, Visser One is just some rando. Chapman would never be appreciated enough to become a Visser.

# ? May 12, 2022 16:24

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

Epicurius posted:

Do you think that's awkward....when you meet somebody that your host knew or was close to? Is there some sort of special Yeerk etiquette there, or is it just a "Huh, small world!"?

Well, Visser One used it as an opportunity to chide the "underling" controlling her host's son for a lack of discipline. But she's... a special case.

Also, while the PTSD freakout is wild, the thought of seeing more Yeerk HR lectures is both a fate worse than death and hilarious.

# ? May 12, 2022 18:38

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Capfalcon posted:

Also, while the PTSD freakout is wild, the thought of seeing more Yeerk HR lectures is both a fate worse than death and hilarious.

It must be horrible when Taxxon trust falls go wrong.

# ? May 12, 2022 19:20

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

Epicurius posted:

It must be horrible when Taxxon trust falls go wrong.

They're a double-test.- if the Taxxon catches you they fail for lack of bloodlust, and if you actually try to fall you fail for being stupid enough to trust another Yeerk.

# ? May 12, 2022 20:00

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

They're a double-test.- if the Taxxon catches you they fail for lack of bloodlust, and if you actually try to fall you fail for being stupid enough to trust another Yeerk.

Taxxon as Hork Bajir stands behind them. "Guys, I'm not so sure this is a good idea....."

# ? May 12, 2022 20:11

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Capfalcon posted:

Well, Visser One used it as an opportunity to chide the "underling" controlling her host's son for a lack of discipline. But she's... a special case.

Also, while the PTSD freakout is wild, the thought of seeing more Yeerk HR lectures is both a fate worse than death and hilarious.

Edriss would totally get off on being a weird, creepy Space Mom to Marco...'s body.

# ? May 12, 2022 20:31

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 17

quote:

Magically clear, steel-strong Orff fingers clutched my arms as my father approached. He looked just as I remembered him. Salt-and-pepper hair receding slightly. A vertical wrinkle forged above his nose. He hadn�t aged a day. How was that possible?

�Dad ��

His face showed no response as his eyes tracked, sifting his memory.

�That�s right. Once upon a time, you were my host�s son. This is quite a coincidence in a city so big.�

My thoughts exactly.

It was a weird and unlikely coincidence. As an isolated event, maybe. I�m out of commission for ten years and when I tune in again, my dad�s there waiting to arrest me. Sure.

But combined with bumping into Cassie? With sighting Tobias? With learning that it was my carelessness that led to Rachel�s death?

Too much convergence. Too many life lines intersecting.

There had to be some other current at work here.

�You were late for work,� the Yeerk in my father�s head accused. �Late and in the vicinity of the explosion. You will be interrogated.�

The Orff squeezed my arms, nearly cutting off the blood flow.

This is a dream, I thought again. Or maybe I have a fever. I�ll wake up in a cold sweat, back in my room, back with a chance for victory �

�Move him!�

The guards pulled me forward. I leaned back.

Wake up, I screamed silently. Wake up!

I wanted it to be a dream. Willed it to be a fevered dream.

The Orffs� blue lungs filled and collapsed, filled and collapsed. Their hearts contracted. Their blood coursed.

I rammed an elbow into a lung.

No response!

A flash of insight. What if their organs, those blatant, exposed, vulnerable organs, were decoys?

By all biological laws, they should be. They could be drawing attention away from the body sections that mattered.

With a sweep of my leg I knocked one to the floor. He released my arm and I packed the hardest punch I�ve ever thrown at the clearest part of the other Orff�s chest. Just below the head, but above the heart. A section clear as air.

The sea-green glow in his eye faltered and flickered out. He moaned and fell, an unconscious heap. My father�s face flashed alarm.

�Take him!�

Two Hork-Bajir lunged. I turned and ran for the gravity lift, but six more Hork-Bajir came running from that direction. Roping me in! Closing off escape!

I was blocked. Surrounded. Helpless!

Unless �

I focused.

And the impossible began to happen.

Bands of color, stripes of orange and black inked my skin. Then fur erupted. Tiger muscles bulged, ripping my suit at its seams. My teeth enlarged and sharpened, becoming rows of pointed spears.

I was still able to morph.

The Yeerk force stared in horror, incredulous.

�He�s not Andalite! It�s impossible!�

Not so, boys.

I fell forward onto all fours and lunged. Slashed a Hork-Bajir leg. Rip! Slash! Rip!

Four were down. I turned on my father. He reached for the Dracon holstered on his hip.

His hand was on it. His eyes were on me.

One leap and I�d have him. One leap, and I could take him out.

My dad.

He lifted the beam from his belt. Started to bring it up.

One leap �

Take down my father?

WHAM!

From behind! A brutal blow. My head exploded. My legs, crumpling beneath me. And my vision
�
Red, then black.

See, Jake can morph!

Chapter 18

quote:

Slowly, very slowly, unconsciousness gave way to the numb daze of waking up. My limbs were heavy. Utter exhaustion made me happy to be lying down. Don�t move. Don�t even open your eyes. Back to sleep. Yeah � go back to sleep, Jake.

Then suddenly, I remembered. Panic knotted my stomach. I was back in human form!

How did I demorph?

Hideous red light reflected off a cool, smooth floor. It burned my eyes. Bare, seamless walls. A large room. And I was sprawled near the exit. A door frame with no door. I could go � I staggered to my feet, scanned the hall outside for guards. No one. This was it. My lucky break.

I rushed forward.

Kzzzzt!

It was like being slapped down by a steel plate. My face, knees, and fists had struck an invisible, electrified force. I raised my head, not sure of what had happened, anticipating a second strike.

Nothing. Just the opening, still crackling from impact.

I struggled to raise my limp body.

�Still putting up the big fight?� It was a deep, chiding voice. �After all these years?�

I looked up. A broad, dark man paused in the doorway, then strode through the energy barrier. He was flanked by six Hork-Bajir and four heavily armed Orff. The Hork-Bajir fell off and took up locations by the entrance. The Orff kept their positions on either side of this person, who was clearly in charge.

He spoke.

�When they told me it was you, I didn�t believe it. I thought you�d been disposed of at the beginning. My host�s old comrade in arms. The former leader of that pathetic little gang, the Animorphs.�

The face was adult. Mid-twenties, like mine. Unmistakable anywhere, despite all that had changed. Despite the deep, angular battle scars that scored it.
I knew that face.

That cocky confidence. That swagger.

�Marco?�

�Just the parts of his mind I find useful,� came the reply. A voice at once familiar and alien.

�Not you, too, man.�

�Your old friend Marco�s serving the Empire now, if that�s what you mean. He finally understands how much better things can be when we all work together. One big happy family. Tell your old buddy, Marco.�

An odd expression contorted the man�s face. A face so shocked to find it could speak, that the mouth could barely form words.

There was stuttering. A long attempt to utter something.

�N-n-n � o.�

And then the mouth stopped abruptly, turning once again cold and hard. The Yeerk cut in. The Yeerk who�d stolen my best friend�s mind and made him a slave.

�What he means is that no one could be happier.�

�Marco would die before he�d choose to help you.�

�Evolutionist-Front nonsense. Everyone wants to help the Yeerks. It�s the informed choice, the �in� thing to do. Life�s cool when you share your head.�

This Yeerk was trying hard to tap Marco�s humor, but it wasn�t working.

�You�ll want to join us, too. We�ve already got a new Yeerk lined up for you. Someone more cooperative with the Empire. He�ll help you think things through, help that anarchic brain of yours find peace. But first we�ve got some business to take care of.�

A new Yeerk? So he, too, thought I was already a Controller?

I knew I wasn�t. I knew it!

And yet when everybody thinks you�re something you�re not, when everyone tells you again and again who and what you are, it�s hard not to wonder, way in the back of your mind, if they aren�t somehow right.

That last line gets me for some reason. It fits with a recurring theme of the series, that people judge based on appearances. If you act like a certain thing, everyone assumes you're that thing.

# ? May 13, 2022 03:31

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

Seems like this ghostwriter gets Animorphs.

Epicurius posted:

Chapter 18

That last line gets me for some reason. It fits with a recurring theme of the series, that people judge based on appearances. If you act like a certain thing, everyone assumes you're that thing.

How could they have possibly gotten to this situation at the start of the book, though? Why wouldn't Marco have given away all the Animorphs immediately? How could Jake have gone unnoticed, and even gotten an important job, without anyone realizing who he was? Would there really not be any tracking of controllers and Kandrona trips?

# ? May 13, 2022 08:09

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

quote:

The Yeerk force stared in horror, incredulous.

�He�s not Andalite! It�s impossible!�

I guess some Andalite scientists undertook a heroic "destroy all the servers" action as the Yeerk invasion fleet was landing.

# ? May 13, 2022 08:33

CidGregor: Sep 27, 2009; TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off

As long as we're extrapolating the lore of this scenario, how did Cassie know Visser Three/Esplin is the emperor now? Isn't it supposed to be such a massive secret that even the entire Yeerk empire doesn't know who's emperor outside of the Council of Thirteen? Are they so deep into victory conditions that they feel they don't need the secrecy anymore? Is someone else on the council actually feeding the rebels intel, XCOM 2 style? Or did Esplin just announce it himself because he's such an ego-load that he couldn't stand the idea of NOT bragging about being Supreme Yeerk Overlord?

I'm betting on that last one, honestly.

# ? May 13, 2022 14:47

effervescible: Jun 29, 2012; i will eat your soul

It's absolutely the last one.

# ? May 13, 2022 15:15

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

effervescible posted:

It's absolutely the last one.

Honestly, it's pretty likely he did a coup.

But also, yes.

# ? May 13, 2022 15:35

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 19

quote:

�You were spotted on the street near the scene of the explosion. You were off duty without authorization. Then I hear you�re hanging with Gotham�s most wanted. I have to say it was that particular piece of evidence that sealed your fate.� A familiar smirk lit up the altered face. �Old Jake�s a terrorist.�

�I don�t know anything about the explosion. I was just on my way to work.�

�I anticipated you�d try to resist.�

Marco snapped his fingers and a Hork-Bajir swiftly disabled the energy barrier. Two Orff marched in, carrying Cassie. Her feet and hands were bound with living handcuffs. They handled her roughly, ignoring her broken arm.

Despite her injury, Cassie fought them like a madwoman. She spat in the big Cyclopean eye of an Orff. The orbiting pupil turned from bright yellow to beet-red. He threw her to the floor at Marco�s feet.

�Terrorist or not,� Marco said to me, �when you see what I can do to Cassie, you�ll do as I say.�

Cassie started to crawl away, but the Orff grabbed her again and dragged her to a corner of the room. They fastened her cuffs to brackets on the wall.

�I want to meet those people clever enough to bring down a building in the center of town, right under our noses,� Marco said, his calm unnerving. �I�d like you to introduce me to that group of individuals. If you�re willing, Jake, I think we might be able to keep things friendly.�

No. I was going to free Cassie. She needed help.

I was about to morph to tiger when she caught my eye. Her expression held me back. Its meaning was clear. Hold your ground, Jake, her eyes said. Tell him nothing. Keep your cool. If you try to free me, you�ll tell him too much.

So I didn�t morph. Instead I turned to Marco and said, �I told you, I don�t know anything about any group.�

Immediately, led in by two more Orff, came a gigantic Taxxon on a leash. Each Orff carried a long pointed pole with which they jabbed at the Taxxon, keeping it at bay.

Marco snickered. �This fellow�s been brought straight over from the Taxxon home world where he made quite a name for himself. He ate his entire hive. Mother? Uh-huh. Father? Yep. Siblings? Children? Cousins? Oh, yeah. We tried infesting him, but it became obvious that he�s more effective at what he does when his natural inclinations are left unchecked.�

The Taxxon pulled violently, choking on his leash, oblivious to everything but the search for flesh. Hundreds of legs scrambled. The Orff could barely hold him back.

Cassie squirmed, struggling to break free. I thought she would pull her arms out of their sockets. I couldn�t watch.

�Help us infiltrate the EF,� Marco propositioned smoothly, �and her life will be spared. Tell me all you know and ��

�Tell him nothing!� Cassie snarled. �I�d sooner die a thousand Taxxon-deaths than aid the Empire.�

She meant it. No childish uncertainty lingered in her voice. No naive hopes. She was pure warrior, calculating as any visser.

But when I looked at her face, even though it was ten years older than in my memory, I saw only the Cassie I once knew, the Cassie I once cared for.

She saw my mind working.

�No, Jake!� she yelled.

�Decide now or it�s over for the girl. You won�t have a second chance.�

I looked from Cassie to Marco, and didn�t even hesitate.

�I�ll tell you whatever you want.�

�No!� Cassie shrieked, bucking and kicking. Marco signaled. An Orff clamped see-through fingers over Cassie�s mouth.

�This makes a new record for breaking a terrorist.� Marco smiled and fell into a chair. �It�s things like this that get you noticed by the Council. They knew what they were doing when they made me Visser Three.�

Visser Three?

�Cassie said you were Visser Two.�

�I am.�

�But you just said � you said three, not two.�

Marco�s grin broadened.

That was a slip. Proof that this couldn�t be real!

�It�s all just a dream, isn�t it?� I said excitedly.

Marco laughed. �Dream? Reality? Can you tell the difference? Are you so sure there even is a difference? Pain is pain. Fear is fear. If I order this Taxxon to eat you now you�ll feel agony beyond imagining. Call it a dream if you want, but it�ll be real enough.�

I looked at Cassie, still screaming muffled syllables through the Orff�s fingers.

I looked at the Taxxon. He saw me and jerked his head. Drool flew from his mouth. Struck my hand.

�You�ll do just as I say. Exactly as I say, or this Taxxon scarfs Cassie down in a New York minute.

Get it?� I got it.

�Start talking.�

�Okay,� I said nervously. �I�m waiting for further contact from the EF. They�re planning another attack. Worse than the one today,� I added, though I would not mention the moon-ray plan. �I don�t have details yet. I get them from my next contact. I�ll cooperate. I�ll do whatever you want. Just don�t hurt her.�

�Her?� Marco said, rising from his chair, moving toward Cassie. �Why would we have to harm her?� His voice was calm, confident. �She�ll give us the names of the other EF terrorists. She�ll give us their locations. She�ll help us catch them, help us reinfest them. Relax, Jake. I�m sure ��

Cassie head-butted the Orff. His fingers fell away from her mouth. She coughed, back deep in her throat, and -

Dead center. Marco�s right eye. She lodged the perfect loogie.

No one spoke.

Marco reached out and gripped her hair. Bent her head back. Pulled so hard she squinted. Then he let go of her, rubbed the spit out of his eye, and turned to me.

�Go back to work, Jake. Essak. Wait for the EF to contact you. Go with them. Do as they say. We�ll be watching.�

The room began to spin.

�No matter which way you turn, we�ll know. We�ll be there. Don�t try to deceive us.�

I grabbed the table for support. But the room just kept spinning. And spinning �

�We�ll be watching.� Marco�s voice was faint now. �Every step you take, Jake. Buddy ��

Gotta say. That Taxxon was terrifying.

Chapter 20

quote:

Awake. Somehow, back at my work console.

Controllers all over the office began quietly standing up, leaving their cubicles, systematically filing out of the big room toward the gravity-lift doors.

My computer was blank. No more rotating Chrysler Building model. Glowing numerals glared 6:36. The workday was over-. My crew was already gone, which was lucky, because I would have had a lot of explaining to do.

Dreams within nightmares within hallucinations within visions. It was debilitating!

Play along. Get up and follow.

We�ll be watching �

Marco�s voice still vibrated in my ears.

I picked up the mug on my desk that had somehow appeared and took a swig of cold coffee. I bit into a half-eaten jelly donut. It moved down my esophagus like a wad of wet paper towel.

I stood up and followed the last Controller onto the gravity lift. It plummeted several floors and opened onto a long, yellow hallway. Pulsating triangles pointed the way to an enclosed bridge. A catwalk, running from skyscraper to skyscraper over dingy streets hundreds of feet below. I heard music. A thumping bass filled the air. I quickened my step. Inviting smells. Food smells. I followed the music and aromas to a huge carpeted room, like a banquet hall. Blue and red lights flashed and spun in the darkness. Long tables lined the walls and framed a dance floor. Orff lifted crystal mugs of green brew into the air, chanted something incomprehensible, downed the liquid, and slammed the mugs to the table. At the far end, a ring of Taxxons stuffed pot pie after pot pie into their mouths, cheered on by Hork-Bajir.

But much of the crowd was human. Evidently the Yeerks understood the human need for leisure time. And for junk food.

Tacos, hamburgers, chicken strips, cheese sticks, buffalo wings. Bowls of chips piled three feet high. No broccoli in sight. My mother would not be happy. I was in heaven. Nightmare or not, it was real enough that I felt hunger. Hunger so strong I felt I�d been adrift for a month in the raging Pacific with nothing to sustain me but rainwater.

I heaped a plate with tacos and pizza and edged toward the drink bar.

WHOOF!

A Hork-Bajir slammed me against the wall, knocking my plate to the floor.

I moved to strike. He blocked my arm.

�Don�t struggle,� he said quietly. �I�m a friend.�

I looked him over. Savage blades. Bandana strips tied like tourniquets on all limbs. Didn�t look like a friend to me. He reached for one of the cloth ties, pulled it down, and revealed a branding. A sort of poorly executed, self-inflicted tattoo. The letters �EF� etched in leathery skin.

�My contact?�

�No. A messenger,� he said. �Make like you�re going to the hovercraft dock, like you�re going home for the night. Then double back and duck in the side door to the kitchen.� His eyes trailed across

the room to the door in question. My eyes followed.

He squeezed a hand against my neck to make it seem like he was an aggressor. Necessary for setting Marco�s men off track, I assumed. Then he fell back into the rowdy, pulsing mass on the dance floor.

I grabbed a taco off a table and crammed it into my mouth, then dance-walked over to the hovercraft dock. I strolled onto the platform, into the crazy hum. Hover ships crisscrossed the setting sun, swarming in apparent disorder like bees in a garden.

�Uptown?� a blue suit asked me. Her red hair glistened in the sun�s dimming rays.

�Yeah,� I said. She smiled. The hovercraft pulled in. She stepped on. I stepped in after her. We brushed shoulders, then I remembered.

�Wait! I�m, uh, still hungry.� I smiled apologetically. �One more taco should do the trick.� I slipped off the ship. Its doors closed. Blue suit was whisked into the sky.

Back into the canteen, slinking low, lost in the throbbing mass of dancers. Moving along the wall, past a row of diners. To the swinging door.

Whoosh!

I was inside a dimly lit kitchen. Empty, though the still-wet floor reeked of bleach.

The door clapped shut, muting the after-work revelry of Yeerk happy hour. I moved through the pantry. No one. Into the main kitchen. Prep counters. Ranges. Refrigerators.

I froze. Labored breathing.

A kind of struggle for air through lungs that were seriously not well. I swung around and there, next to the island chopping block, was a wheelchair.

In the wheelchair, a woman. I�m not sure how I knew it was a woman. The face and body were grossly disfigured by injuries. She had no legs. Only one arm. A horrifying scar shut one eye. The other eye looked up at me. It gleamed a brilliant blue.

I think I knew right then because the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

�Aahhh Nihhh Morfff,� came a sound from lips that barely moved. A scraping voice, harsh as railroad brakes, weak as a whisper. Yet strangely animated.

Animorph. The password!

Relief washed over me. A sudden wave. I was in the presence of a friend. It was about time! This pitiable woman � just a clever disguise.

�You don�t even rec �� Thick wheezing cut off her words. She started up again. �You don�t recognize me.�

The arduous puffs of speech � this was no disguise.

�Cause I�m not kicking � Yeerk butt, you don�t � even recognize � your own cousin?�

A sprig of dulled golden hair tucked behind a battered ear.

Reckless vitality still shining in her one eye.

�Cassie said you were dead!� I blurted.

She jammed her hand on the wheelchair joystick and lurched forward, stopping aggressively an inch from my boot.

�Close,� she whispered. �But not quite.�

So today we learn that Rachel is still alive and that the Yeerks know how to party.

# ? May 14, 2022 03:49

FlocksOfMice: Feb 3, 2009

I'm getting strong Phillip Dick vibes from the utter inability to tell reality from unreality and I'm loving this to be honest.

# ? May 14, 2022 05:21

Fuschia tude: Dec 26, 2004; THUNDERDOME LOSER 2019

FlocksOfMice posted:

I'm getting strong Phillip Dick vibes from the utter inability to tell reality from unreality and I'm loving this to be honest.

Or Fight Club vibes.

# ? May 14, 2022 09:11

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

The alternative is that this is all actually completely real and Cassie just has a really lovely memory/understanding of the current situation :v:

# ? May 14, 2022 09:14

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

Yeah the Orfs being fake see-through and showing fake organs while the real ones are hidden stuck with me since childhood, that's a cool and smart design.

# ? May 14, 2022 21:04

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 21

quote:

Rachel!

Not dead. Alive.

I couldn�t find words. There were plenty racing around in my head, but none made it out. I just dropped to my knees and looked into her face. She had been so badly hurt. I wanted to ask how - why didn�t she morph to repair the damage? But I was afraid of the answer.

I knew it was my doing. I knew I�d finally wasted Rachel�s life.

�We don�t do pity,� she snapped, answering the expression on my face. �This is business. The serious stuff.�

I nodded.

Why had Cassie lied to me?

�Eight blocks away is � the New York Public Library. A big abandoned building you � can�t miss. Get there. Make the trip � from here to there the crookedest � line you can. We want them off � the scent.�

I nodded again. It was hard for me to listen to her wheezing, but it didn�t seem to bother her much at all.

�Go in � the side entrance,� she continued. �Up two flights. Down � the hall and into the stacks. And wait.�

�For what?�

�We don�t do questions.�

Suddenly -

Whoosh!

An Orff flung open the swing door. Shone his amber eye-light on pots, pans, me, stacked dishes.

Back to me.

�Explain your position, Orange Suit.�

Rachel�s chair was low enough to the ground that he couldn�t see her behind the island chopping block, but I was standing.

�I wanted more salsa. The tacos are bland,� I said.

He thought a moment. I stared him down.

But when he stepped through the door my heart pounded. Maybe he was a figment of my subconscious, but pain was pain. Fear was fear. Marco had a point.

�Get the sauce,� he bellowed, �and bring it to my table. You�re right, the tacos stink.�

He turned and walked out.

�They�ll trail you,� Rachel said. �At least now you know � who you need to lose.�

�But do I meet someone? I want to do this right. Who do I look for? How will I know them?�

�You�ll know.� An undercurrent of the old enthusiasm carried her voice, even through thelabored speech. �Believe me, you�ll know.�

I moved to leave. Her hand grabbed my suit.

�Don�t let us down, Jake. It�s not just � our freedom in the balance� this time. It�s� life itself.There are many more � like me. Injured or weak or different. So let�s do it � and do it right.�

She released me. I wish I could say it didn�t bother me to look at the mess Rachel had become, but it did. And in my mind, her wounds chronicled my failures as a leader. It was more than I could bear.

Without a backward glance, I swung through the door and back into the rowdy canteen. I couldn�t tell exactly who was watching, but I felt the threat. I felt the stare of Marco�s men. A gravity lift dropped me at street level. Me and a group of blue suits looking to start a brawl with a Taxxon gang. I left them on the corner and started to move.

Down an alley. Back onto a main street. Another alley �

I needed to morph. I focused on the image of a peregrine falcon. I waited for my bones to start shrinking, the ground to start racing up at me.

Nothing happened. The changes didn�t come!

I heard footsteps behind me. I looked back, but saw no one. Could Marco�s men have some antimorphing technology?

I broke into a jog, dodging in and out of blown-out storefronts, doubling back on my tracks. All the while I felt eyes on me. I saw no one. Just felt eyes.
And heard footfalls. When I slowed, they slowed. When I sped up, they followed. I kept trying to morph, but the changes wouldn�t come. Maybe it was me. Maybe my mind was too fragmented to focus.

In the middle of Forty-second Street, in the center of the path the Yeerks had cut through debris from the explosion, I stopped suddenly, waited two seconds, and spun around.

My boot struck the pavement. It was the sound of triumph. Because I�d captured exactly what I wanted.

I�d seen the Orff before they�d dimmed their eyes.

There was one on a first-floor balcony a half-block away, purple. And there was a group of three, crouched next to a junked hovercraft, their eyes red.

One of them was not even twelve feet away. A glowing orange follow spot. Invisible now, in the night, but that didn�t matter. I�d charted it on my mental map.

Five total. I would lose these guys. I�d lose them without morphing. For Rachel.

Ready, set �

Gone! I pumped my legs. Worked them like springs, jumping over the debris-laden street and across the pavement. A powerful body in top condition. A host any Yeerk would give five ranks to get.

I couldn�t see the Orff, but I could hear them. A fluid swishing followed by a thump, as each leg struck the ground. Swish-thump. Swish-thump. Swish-thump. Blending together so fast it was one sound. One rhythm. The Orff�s three legs. Like a well-oiled engine.

I turned into another alley. Swish-thump. Only one Orff was near. But how close? I twisted and caught a glimpse. It was Orange-eye. Sticking to me. He wouldn�t let me pull away.

I�d have to take this chase inside.

The thing I find amazing about this book is how much of the threat is psychological. A lot of this is Jake's self doubt and grief.

Chapter 22

quote:

I dove through the storefront, its sheet glass already blown out. I landed on a bed of sports equipment. Hockey skates jabbed my ribs. Sneakers broke my fall.

I raced to the back of the store. Boxes of shoes and skates and hockey pads piled high, overturned, spilled randomly across the floor. I tripped through the obstacle course, heading for the backstairs when �

Whoosh!

The floor in front of me was opening up! I couldn�t stop. Moving too fast �

A black hole!

�Ahh!�

I grabbed for a shoe rack. It tumbled.

I was falling!

Like Alice in Wonderland, I was shooting through blackness. Or down a water park slide. Only beneath me wasn�t a stream of H20, but a current of air so strong it kept me buoyant.

Air flew past so fast I could hardly breathe. I scratched the sides for a handhold, but they were smooth.

A twisting turn! Then flatness. Then a thirty-foot drop!

�Oh-wah-oh-wa-weh-se-gunta-go ��

<Oh-wah-oh-wa �>

What the � ?!

Kids. A mix of oral and thought-speak voices. Singing!

It was the first joyful sound I�d heard since waking in my cell.

I saw the end of the tunnel speeding toward me. No way to slow down!

�Yahhh!�

I was flying through night air, through a sky dotted by stars and warmed by the full moon.

Whumph!

An unexpectedly soft landing on a wide, grassy field. Next to me was a tree. But not just your average neighborhood maple or oak. This sucker was huge. A billowing, thriving tree whose branches bowed to touch the ground, then headed back up toward the sky. Like the baobabs of Africa I�ve seen on the Discovery Channel.

Every branch had a child on it. A smiling, playful child, singing and swaying. Some of them were obviously skilled tree-climbers. Not all of them were human, although most were. There were young Andalites, too. Even a number of Orff. And a Leeran.

�Oh-wah-oh-wa-weh-se-gunta-go!� The singing stopped.

On the grass not far from me, beneath the tree, were some adults. A few were standing, others sat cross-legged. They didn�t wear the colored suits of the Yeerk metropolis. Instead they had on loose fitting, linen-colored tunics. A bulge in a pouch on their sides revealed handheld Dracons, but I got the feeling the weapons weren�t used very often.

Adult Andalites stood thoughtfully nearby. A single Orff, barely visible in the darkness, crouched on his third leg while he extended the other two legs comfortably out in front of him.

A human female raised her hands with pleasure and smiled at the kids in the tree. �Very nice,� she said. �We�ll start the meeting now.�

All heads turned up to the starry sky. An adult Andalite stepped forward. <With it we walk, think, and speak. For it we breathe, sleep, and work.>

�Freedom guides us,� everyone answered.

<For it we live.>

�Freedom is all.�

Heads dropped. A human male asked the kids if they wanted to share what they�d worked on during the week. The female who�d led the song walked over to me.

�What is this place?� I asked. �Are you the group Cassie told me about? Are you free?�

�Yes. So Cassie sent you?�

�Well, no. I mean, I don�t know. I just fell through a hole in the floor and ��

�The floor doesn�t open up for just anyone. Cassie must want you to learn. You see, all our young adults are in the EF. We�re the ones they�ve saved so far. We elders, and the children that we raise and teach.� She pointed back at the tree. It must have been art week because each child had a painting of his own creation in his hands. The canvases were small, but intricate. One student at a time explained his work while the others listened.

�These are the first healthy kids I�ve seen since I�ve been here.�

The woman nodded and squeezed my arm.

�It�s a sad story, to be sure. I�ll tell you.� She lowered her voice a notch. �The Yeerks raise children in large warehouses back in the city. Controllers like the ones you saw are picked at random to procreate. When children are born, they enter one of the wamps, or warehouses, where they are held from birth to age fifteen. Their lives are controlled though their brains are left uninfested.

Children are seen as weak and unworthy host bodies.

�During this captivity,� she continued, �they�re pumped full of vitamin supplements so the host bodies will grow strong. They�re run on treadmills so they�ll be fit to fight and to produce. When instinct leads them to indulge in moments of uncontrolled, regular childhood, they are punished. If they try to educate themselves, they are punished. Yeerks want minds as powerless as possible. So they raise children in a joyless, lifeless world where they wait for the day of infestation. The EF fights to free them. When they are freed, which is far more seldom than I can bear to think, they come here.�

�These kids don�t seem traumatized at all,� I said. �They seem completely normal.�

�We�ve been lucky that way. Very few have been broken down beyond repair. This is a place of joy. It helps that we don�t talk about the wamps unless we must. We live simply. We teach and cultivate. We hope.�

She turned back to the class in progress, then back to me.

�Would you like to see more?�

I nodded. I felt it was important to see how things worked here. I felt that I was here because I was supposed to be.

Ok, so we've met some kids and their caretakers, and learn how the Yeerks raise their hosts.

Epicurius fucked around with this message at 03:48 on May 16, 2022

# ? May 15, 2022 03:28

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

That part kinda reminds me of John Christopher's Tripods trilogy, a really great sci-fi series from the 1960s which I guess would have been considered YA if the term had been invented. Aliens have conquered Earth and reverted humans to a medieval level of technology, kept under control by implants in their head which discourage free thinking, but the implants can't be put in the skull until kids have finished growing. So it's the young teenagers who are still "free" and sometimes question the process and run off and join the resistance before they can be enslaved. Good hook for making your protagonists kids.

Also, if I were building a gigantic laser or whatever to turn the moon into a Kandrona sun and mounting it on a skyscraper, I would have gone with the Empire State Building, not the Chrysler. Weird choice.

# ? May 15, 2022 03:41

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 23

quote:

I walked over to the tree.

�Are you from the EF?� A kid�s voice. I looked down at one of the lower, swooping branches and saw a blond, rosy-cheeked boy. Maybe eight or nine. He spoke like he hoped I was with the EF because that would make me a quasi-celebrity and someone worth showing his artwork to.

�Um, I guess so,� I said. �Yeah. I�m working with the EF. My name�s Jake.�

�My name�s Justice. The elders insist on giving us these funny �concept� names. Like, that�s Liberty over there.� He pointed to a girl on a high branch. �And that�s Storm.� As he explained this, he rolled his eyes a little, indicating that to him, all adults seem a bit goofy.

I smiled and knelt down to get closer to his level.

�You want to see my painting?� he said. �My friends think I�m better at art than they are. The elders say I have a gift.�

�Well, then, I�d better have a look.�

Justice handed his canvas to me.

�What do you think?�

The image was divided diagonally, from the lower left corner to upper right. Below that line was an expressionist nightmare. A dark, angular city. Jutting, steel-gray towers rising through a bloodred mist. A fog from which arms and screaming, agonized faces reached in vain for a sky they couldn�t see.

Above the diagonal demarcation was a different world. A cloudless, blue-skied landscape. In the sky hovered a hot-air balloon, stark-white, like a sun. Extending from the balloon�s gondola, crossing over from the joyful sky to the dismal, urban abyss was a rope.

A cord, thin as thread.

On this rope were people, traveling upward, pinned to the thread like clothes on a laundry line.

And as they crossed the border between darkness and light, faces stiff with frustration and rage softened. There were no smiles, but there were expressions of hope.

�Do you like it, Jake?�

�It�s great,� I said. He smiled. �You�re really good at drawing. Is that how you got here? Did you escape up the rope?�

�Not you too,� he said with mild frustration. �The elders are always telling me I paint allegories, whatever they are! I�m working out my aggression and fears, they say. But I�m just painting what I want to.�

�Okay.�

�Do you get to fly Bug fighters?�

�Nope.�

�But you get to plan attacks, right? And lead rebels? And free slaves?�

�I guess so.�

�That�s what I want to do. I�m gonna free all the friends I had to leave behind. They�re prisoners and I�m gonna save them.�

I wondered how I should answer, how I could explain to him, without destroying his spirit. �War doesn�t always let you save the people you know,� I said. You might end up being assigned to a mission that saves people far away from here. People you don�t know. Other people�s friends.�

He shook his head.

�I�ll save my friends first. Then I�ll save other people�s friends.� He jumped suddenly and grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me toward the trunk of the massive tree.

�You�re gonna be late,� he said. �I want you to stay, but you�re gonna be late.� He pressed his small hand on a depression in the thick, corrugated bark and a door appeared. It opened for me and I let Justice push me through it, but then I turned back.

When I did, there was just the trunk of an oak.

No door, no free humans. I was back in the city. In Bryant Park, awash in shadows from a nearly full, rising moon. Gnarled branches on leafless trees spread like outstretched hands. Hands warning of danger. Pleading with me to be careful.

Gravel crunched beneath my boots as I crossed to the New York Public Library. My mind hummed with confusion as I tried to make sense of the place I�d just been, the free humans I�d just met.

I�d decided a while back to give up analyzing what was happening to me and why. I�d figured that sanity depended on accepting the reality I saw, this dream or nightmare or vision. But that didn�t mean there weren�t times when all I wanted were answers - definite, concrete answers.

I listened for the sound of Orff footfalls. For the feel of spying eyes tracking me.

Nothing. I�d lost them.

I�d done as Rachel had said.

Up white marble steps.

�TSSEEERRR.�

A raptor�s cry cut the night. Then beating wings and the creaking of ancient bones.

�Tobias!�

Feathers brushed my face as a hawk shot past. So close this time! I blinked and �

Gone! Absorbed by the night.

�Tobias?� There was no answer.

So I turned and opened the massive, brass-handled door. I raced up moonlit stairs, boots pounding in the vast emptiness.

A wood-paneled corridor led to the stacks, to endless rows of high, book-lined shelves. A gloomy, moody maze. A musty, unlived-in smell. Silent as a tomb.

Reading obviously wasn�t big with the Empire.

I walked along the main corridor, looking down each aisle. Rachel said I�d know.

I was in the beginning of the �E� section when I passed an aisle that seemed to extend farther than the rest. I turned into the book-lined tunnel, heart thumping, and began to run.

Suddenly, the bookshelves ended. I skidded to a halt next to a row of dark-stained wooden tables. And then a hundred lights switched on and splashed light across the surfaces of a hundred desks, illuminating a huge reading room.

A strapping Andalite, coarse blue fur drawn tight over battle-ready muscles, swiveled graceful stalk eyes to rest on me.

<Jake.>

The thought-speak voice was mind-filling. Gentle and tough. Wise, inspiring, terrifying.

Familiar.

He looked just as he did the night his spacecraft crashed in the construction site. The night my life changed forever.

By comparison, my voice sounded puny and forlorn, swallowed up by the vaulted chamber.

�Elfangor.�

Elfangor?

Chapter 24

quote:

The Andalite shifted on his hooves and trotted nearer, his stature breathtaking. He was powerful and well-proportioned.

<You have followed our instructions.>

I�d seen Elfangor murdered with my own eyes, yet there he stood. Could he be leader of the EF? Mastermind of a terrorist campaign against Yeerk control? I was incredulous, but, at this point, anything seemed possible.

�The EF is certainly a force to be reckoned with,� I said.

<It sounds as though you question our tactics.>

�Action is the surest path to change. No question there.�

<But you would fight them differently? Sabotage and terrorist offensives make you morally uneasy. You want a better way.>

�What I want is to go home.�

<Too much for you?> Elfangor was an awesome presence. I�d be lying to say he didn�t intimidate me some. But I was a leader, too. I saw the fight for Earth as more mine now than his. I wanted to be respectful of him, but in my view he�d made a giant mistake with the terrorist campaign. I had to call him on it.

�No. I want to go home so I can keep all this from happening in the first place. If this is the future, I want to go back. I can stop the Yeerks without sacrificing my friends. Without botching the war, and bumbling into your brand of terrorism and half-freedoms. I can stop them before we sacrifice the very things we�re fighting for!�

Elfangor laughed in my mind. <Victory without sacrifice? You know better than that.>

�You don�t have to give up your principles to win. Isn�t there always an alternative to sacrifice if you just keep your mind clear, and step back, and see it and ��

<You know better than that.>

The repetition stung. How did he know I was just talking big? It was like he was inside my head, rifling through my personal file of fears and mistakes �

Now I was angry.

�It�s all your fault,� I said suddenly, surprising myself. �I always thought of you as a hero, Elfangor. A leader. But the truth is you couldn�t see another way out. You sentenced us to hardship, pain, and suffering. We were kids. You made us question every value we ever learned. You had no right to heap that weight on us, huge and impossible. You used us!�

<That�s interesting, coming from you, Jake.> The voice changed as he said my name. Suddenly, he didn�t sound like Elfangor anymore. The Andalite arrogance was gone, leaving only the voice of a man. A human. Familiar and unfamiliar. <Let me guess what comes next,> the new voice said. <You didn�t ask for leadership, right? You didn�t ask to make the tough calls. Plan the missions. Decide how to use your small but loyal force. How and when to put them in harm�s way, risking their lives. You�re blameless. The role was thrust upon you. Well, I don�t buy it, Jake. Every choice is yours. Always has been. You were and are free.>

�Tobias.�

<Yeah. You know I morphed Ax a long time ago. I decided to stay in this morph. Ax�s body has aged ten years. It�s a dead ringer for Elfangor, isn�t it? But Elfangor�s dead, Jake.>

Of course.

<And so are you.>

My throat tightened. My skin tingled. What? My mind seized on his words, pulled and prodded them. Turned and shook them.

Dead? Then how could I be free?!

<Ten years ago tonight, Tom put it all together. He came into your room and murdered the leader of the Animorphs. Rather than let Visser Three know that one of the notorious �Andalite bandits� had gone undetected for so long, right under his nose, Tom ended your life. Your own brother �>

�But I�m here!�

I looked down at my hand. Pink-tan flesh under the light of the reading lamp. Knuckles, nails, veins, bones. Alive. Real.

<Yes, you�re here, but not alive.>

What was this?

<It all converges tonight. Battles, struggle, strategy. Tonight is the decisive moment. The Chrysler Building moon ray is ready for use. They�re powering it up as I speak. Running through the checklist. Applying your hundreds of hours of calculations.>

�No! No, no, no! I�m not a scientist!�

<You are. You were. Or rather, you will be. It all rests on you. You�re the only one � only you can make the shot miss. Get there, Jake. Alter the programming. Make it miss. Even a tenth of apercent will do the job. This is the decisive moment, do you understand? Use whatever means
necessary>

�If I make the shot miss, the moon will explode and doom millions.�

<The greater good, Jake. The big picture. For God�s sake, don�t get stopped by details.Permanent Kandrona. Failure means an Earth that is at last irrevocably Yeerk.>

�But what about Cassie? Marco has her!�

<There�s no time. She�s prepared to die with honor>

�Couldn�t you send someone else to save her? One of your people?� I pleaded, indignant at hisdismissal of her life.

Tobias shrugged.

<No one to spare.>

�I won�t let her die!�

<Save one or save many? The choice wasn�t so hard for you at the Ragsin Building, when youleft Marco and Rachel to save themselves.>

I couldn�t answer that.

<This is war, Jake. Sacrifices must be made.> He turned abruptly and walked across the room. <Alter the moon ray or save Cassie. One or the other. Or neither. Not both.>

Hey, it's Tobias. And Jake is dead!

# ? May 16, 2022 03:57

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

quote:

Gnarled branches on leafless trees spread like outstretched hands. Hands warning of danger. Pleading with me to be careful.

This ghostwriter is definitely... what's the polite term... one of the more ambitious writers to be given a brief

I also found this funny:

quote:

A raptor�s cry cut the night. Then beating wings and the creaking of ancient bones.

Those are some very audible bird bones!

# ? May 16, 2022 09:35

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

This is a real "special halloween episode" of a book, isn't it

E: 90s scholastic executive: those goosebumps books are selling great. Why don�t you guys do an animal morphers book that's SCARY?

Tree Bucket fucked around with this message at 09:45 on May 16, 2022

# ? May 16, 2022 09:41

ANOTHER SCORCHER: Aug 12, 2018

Also it's set in New York for no reason at all.

# ? May 16, 2022 09:58

QuickbreathFinisher: Sep 28, 2008; by reading this post you have agreed to form a gay socialist micronation.
`

ANOTHER SCORCHER posted:

Also it's set in New York for no reason at all.

New York is kind of the seventh animorph if you think about it

# ? May 16, 2022 12:46

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

freebooter posted:

This ghostwriter is definitely... what's the polite term... one of the more ambitious writers to be given a brief

I'm just impressed they got Philip K Dick to ghostwrite, especially because he was dead at the time.

# ? May 16, 2022 16:11

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 25

quote:

I couldn�t accept it.

I ran out the same way I came in, as fast as my legs could carry me. Past row upon row of books and cavernous marble library halls built for a different world.

I burst out into a muggy cloud of night air, thick and hot. The leaves on the trees were full and lush. Leaves? Muggy air? Minutes ago I�d walked beneath barren branches, dormant as death. New I raced past foliage rustling in the whirlwind currents from hovercraft overhead.

Reality was all wrong.

Cassie.

No mission was worth sacrificing her life.

I ran from Tobias. From Elfangor and Ax, from friends who�d ceased to care.

As leader of the Animorphs, I would put the mission first. The mission as a whole. But what was my mission?

What made the world worth more? Sheer volume? The future? The common good?

Detachment, you idiot.

The last battle we�d fought together � Marco and Rachel, inside � lose everyone or just two � a door closing � Securing their destiny �
Guilt tore at me with scratching, ripping claws.

I�d set the example. I was to blame for Cassie�s hardness and Tobias�s indifference.

I ran still faster. Down a dark, narrow backstreet. The smell of Taxxon filth invaded every corner of the city. Sweat poured down my face, mixing with burning, unstoppable tears.

�I�m sorry!� I shouted at the sky.

No one to hear.

Tobias was wrong about war. What good is it if people are forgotten along the way? If one girl in one million girls is scarred and hardened. Changed forever. What good? Only Yeerks freely give their own to see a job completed. I wasn�t a Yeerk.

I wasn�t.

TSEEEW!

A flash of heat. The scorch of Dracon fire on the bricks above my face. Marco�s men!

Get away! I had to get above this nightmare town! I tore at my synthetic orange skin and tried to morph.

The physical changes began. I hadn�t lost the morphing power! Long human legs collapsed up into my rear. Elbows fused to my chest.

A downy undercoat sprouted across my skin. Stiff feathers shot outward from thinning arms.

Hard cranial bones shifted, sculpting my heavy, round human head into the falcon�s sleek form.

I flapped as hard as I could. Struggling through wet air.

Help Cassie, and I doom so many more. Kandrona for eternity. Help Cassie and mankind�s fate is sealed.

But I would have one more moment with Cassie by my side. We might make it. We could run. But where could we go? And with a Kandrona sun, I couldn�t even starve the Yeerk out of her head �

Every detail of the city surged into focus with raptor sight. And the mind. Simple, but keen.

Focused on the task. No swells of emotion. No unanswered questions.

The tears were gone.

Higher. Past walls of silver-green glass and rooftop landing pads. Glassed-in penthouses, beacons in the darkness, housed crowds of humans and Andalites gathered around sludgy pools.

High-level Controllers cavorting and conspiring. The alien world�s hot tub equivalent. The Yeerk pool.

The air cooled and thinned as I rose higher still, until at last, the menacing Yeerk New York looked safe and small. Air began to slip past my tired wings. I was an insignificant dot in the sky. One free soul above a city of slaves. Millions that were mine to save.

Cassie.

Justice would save his friends first.

But Justice was a kid.

So, question about this artificial kandrona tthing. I get it would be bad, but the Yeerk still has to leave the host to get the benefits of it, right? And the whole, "I can't even starve the Yeerk out of her head...." thing, if you kept her inside and restrained,,,

II do like Jake's realization that you can't ignore the the human cost of war, but also that you can't just save your friends and let the rest of the world be damned.

Chapter 26

quote:

The lights of Yeerk and once-Andalite craft flitted over streets like crimson fireflies. Brooklyn. Queens. The Bronx. The suburbs. The string of distant cities beyond. All of it glowed a telling red.

The East Coast megalopolis, to the horizon and beyond.

Yeerk. All of it. Yeerk.

My telescopic falcon eyes found the silhouette of a man at a desk, high in a skyscraper. In the world I used to know, he could have been anyone. Working late. With a wife and a family. A dog. A home. Here he was a captive. One captive. One life.

Two miles away was another building, not the tallest, but one that stood out, with a pointed, shining peak. Brighter than all the structures around it, with starbursts stacked to form a tall, elegant tip.

The Chrysler Building. Center of the invaders� command. Instrument of Yeerk domination. Cassie�s prison.

A stunning yellow light electrified the massive peak. The needle rod planted at the top began to pulse. Then suddenly, right before my eyes � the giant metallic gargoyle eagles that jutted from the corners of the spire�s base seemed to ignite!

The moon ray was energizing.

An emerald-green glow was growing within the eagles, emanating, gaining intensity. Shafts of green sprang from the eagle heads, like controlled lightning. Rose up and up, converging at the spire�s needle tip!

A pyramid of green with an axis of gold, all of it sizzling energy!

I pulled in my two-foot wings and began the dive. Thirty, forty, fifty miles an hour. The Chrysler Building my prey.

I plummeted through cold air, faster and faster. Eighty, ninety � a feathered bullet. A dark streak in the night.

And then, a detail.

A human form! A woman, perched on a narrow ledge a thousand feet from the ground, one of the giant gargoyles anchored just beneath her feet! She was facing out, away from the building, her wrists strapped to the masonry wall, her face strained as she fought to break free.

<CaaaaSieeeee!>

She twisted.

<The spire!> Her desperate plea filled my head. <Smash the spire!>

How could she answer in thought-speak? How could she even see me? No time to wonder. The building was racing toward me. The green beams were growing wider and wider, expanding toward Cassie�s perch. They�d fry her! In seconds, she�d be toast.

<The smallest misalignment will disable it!> she screamed. <Smash into the spire! Do it now!>

Razor talons could tear away Cassie�s bonds. Free, she could take cover from the beams. She could survive.

<The spire!>

Indecision slowed my thoughts, and my descent.

The Chrysler Building glowed brighter and brighter. The air vibrated with turbulence. The ray seemed desperate to activate. An endless supply of Kandrona. An Earth forever Yeerk.

One well-placed impact - a five-pound falcon traveling at top speed - and the whole operation might fail. Two lives given to save millions more. To save Earth�s future � Cassie yanked at the living bonds that held her wrists. She fought them, bit them, banged them against the wall. All she could do until suddenly �

<Ahhhhh!> She was free!

And then she leaped forward. Jumped from the brick ledge to the base of the gargoyle, perilously close to the raging green shaft. Slammed her weight onto the eagle. It quaked minutely, but it was enough. The light dimmed!

<You did it!> I cheered. The spire�s color weakened from blinding white to dull yellow.

<No! I only misaligned an auxiliary stabilizer. The system will be up and running again in minutes!>

Before I could respond, a panel hissed open behind her. Strong, nearly invisible Orff arms enveloped her.

<Jake! Disable the main computers!>

She was dragged inside. And the panel shut.

Except for a crack.

So we've come to Jake's choice. Cassie or the Kandrona.

# ? May 17, 2022 03:26

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 27

quote:

A scarlet slit. The only entrance to the Yeerk fortress.

I braked hard against the incredible force of a full dive. The narrow vertical opening approached too fast. I�d miscalculated.

The only solution, maybe, was a fierce bank. One wing tip stretched at the ground, the other to the sky. I flattened my body. Braced for impact.

Whhhhumppppppfffff.

My hollow bird bones were crushed as momentum forced the falcon�s too-large body through the slit.

Wham!

I smacked a marble wall. Dropped to the cool stone floor.

Stay conscious, Jake. My body was shattered, unresponsive. Blackness closed in, blurring my vision.

Feebly, I looked back at the narrow slit. Was I hallucinating? Perched atop the gargoyle-eagle, was a real bird. A red-tailed hawk. Eyes on me.

<Demorph.> The strong voice pulled me back.

My human form. Human �

Miraculously, splintered bones began to fuse and grow. Fly, kill, eat, protect. The raptor�s calming elemental instincts were forgotten by the confused human mind.

<It�s not too late.> The same strong voice.

I got up. I followed the sound of Cassie�s kicks against the corridor. The building vibrated as the moon ray powered up again.

So little time.

I remorphed as I ran, bounding silently toward a red panel at the end of the hall on big Siberian paws. Ka-blam!

I slammed the barrier and the half-inch-thick alloy easily folded. The door ripped from its track and revealed an immense chamber aglow with computer screens.

Four armed Orff on high platforms.

Two rows of Hork-Bajir.

And a voice raging from above.

�You again!�

It was Marco, glaring down from a pedestal hovering high in the center of the room, enclosed by a semicircular control panel fused to the base.
A large holographic display at the front of the room showed an image of the moon.

Displayed beside this moon view was a live image of the Chrysler Building. The spire glowed white-hot. Numbers beneath ticked away the seconds. 00:28. 00:27.

�Don�t even bother trying,� Marco boasted. �Neither of you can do anything to stop this.� He motioned to the wall of windows, where Cassie, bound and gagged, struggled in vain. �In minutes, the moon will shine and strengthen only Yeerks. We will be all-powerful. Earth will be ours forever.�

A panel behind Cassie flew open, revealing a red night.

�And to celebrate, we�ve decided to throw a terrorist from the sky.�

I sprang.

�Get him!�

TSEEEWW TSEEEWW

Dracon fire electrified the floor under my paws. Waves of Hork-Bajir moved in from every direction. I was hit! Hard, sharp blades sliced my back and neck. No pain. Not yet. I wouldn�t let pain in. Not even as blood spewed from my cuts. Staining my fur. Coating my muzzle.

I fought back, wildly. Madly spilling purple-blue Hork-Bajir blood.

Five were down. A new wave rushed to catch me. No!

Propelled by hind legs like rockets, I sailed over the approaching attackers. Landed hard. Tumbled into two Orff.

�Get him, you morons!�

I slashed frantically. Sent their handheld Dracons flying like twigs in a hurricane. I moved in to finish the job.

�Rrroooaaarrrr!�

The Orffs� clear, soft neck tissue yielded to my fangs like soft butter to a knife. But the taste! I withdrew. Gagged and spat. The poisonous, toxic taste!

Before I could recover one of the Orff closed his arms around my neck. Two legs clamped around my sides. The third kicked wildly at my gut.

I bit into the other Orff�s leg, crushing arteries. Grinding leg bones in my jaw. Forcing myself to tolerate the taste.

He fell.

The one on my back increased his stranglehold. We were locked, Greco-Roman wrestlers who�d forgotten the rules.

The numbers beneath the hologram. 00:14. 00:13. No!

Marco towered above, triumphant. Eyes fixed on the holograms. Fists clenched.

A scream!

Cassie! Hurled through the opening, into the red night!

BAAAM!

Violently, I rammed the Orff on my back against the wall.

BAAAM!

He struggled, resisted. Tried to choke me. Cut off my air.

BAAAM!

I smashed him again. His kicking slowed. His grip loosened.

He dropped to the floor, his green hearts spilling blood through severed vessels.

I looked at the window. Cassie.

And then, somehow, crazily � a hand reached up. Three fingers gripped the ledge. Cassie�s hand. She wasn�t gone! But in seconds she would tumble to her sixty-story death, a splattered heap for Taxxons to lick up.

In seconds the moon ray would fire, shooting from the Chrysler Building cannon with perfect aim and precision.

Cassie�s hand.

The large, red button standing out on Marco�s control panel, shielded behind glass. The word ABORT etched on the cover.

Cassie �

The world �

I knew what I had to do. No time for indecision. I saw my goal.

Save what should be valued above all else.

I leaped.

00:05. 00:04.

Why do these weapons or whatever always have this really large abort button?

Chapter 28

quote:

INTERESTING CHOICE.

All was blackness when I heard the voice.

A strange voice. Old and young. Male and female. Echoing in my mind like distant thoughtspeak. It was not the Ellimist. No. It was a voice I�d never heard.

THEY HAVE STRANGELY SEGMENTED MINDS: CONSCIOUS, UNCONSCIOUS, AND AN ABILITY TO RECONCILE BOTH. THEY WILL BEAR MORE STUDY, THESE HUMANS �

A bird�s song.

Bright sun on my face. Warmth.

I opened my eyes.

A wooden desk with a computer on it. Star Wars Episode I poster tacked to the wall. Schoolbooks heaped on the floor. Dirty clothes falling from the closet. Worn gym shoes. Reading light.

Cotton sheets.

Downstairs, the smell of fresh waffles cooking. Dad. A woman talking about a doubles game.

Mom. My room. My house. My �

I leaped out of bed.

The Schwarzenegger thing was history. My hand was my hand again. I brushed my chin. No sandpaper. Just smooth.

I grabbed for the phone. I dialed the number. Pounded the keypads. My body ached in muscles I didn�t know I had.

Brrrrrrrr-ing.

Come on. Pick up.

Brrrrrrrr-ing.

Answer!

I wanted to hear a girl�s voice. Deep and young. Cheerful and wise.

My heart pounded.

Bright sun washed my body. I moved a hand across my chest and felt �

My badge! I yanked it off.

I looked.

My fingers clutched air. I opened my fist. Nothing.

Images still flashed through my head.

Dead Hork-Bajir towering above me.

Orff manacling my wrists.

David.

A mind-blowing explosion.

The Howler.

The strangely beautiful singing of children.

The stench of those condemned to death.

A Mylar sheath beating with the wind.

The scarred faces and mangled bodies of old friends.

Elfangor.

Lightning. Rain. Slipping �

Brr �

�Hello?�

Time stopped.

Everything got extremely quiet. Except for the pounding of my heart.

I knew now. I�d made a choice. I knew what I was made of. My limitations and priorities.

�It�s Jake,� I said.

No response.

�It�s Jake,� I said again, voice quaking like I�d never talked to her before.

As if this were the first call I�d ever made. The only call that mattered.

�Cassie, I just wanted to ask what I should have asked you yesterday. Are you okay?�

So that's the book. It's a strange one, and I don't know if it's a good one, but I don't think it's a terrible one. What do you all think?

The next book is a Rachel book, book 42, The Journey, ghostwritten by Emily Costello.

# ? May 18, 2022 03:20

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

At last we finally reveal Jake�s worst, most crippling, irredeemable character flaw. His favourite Star Wars movie is The Phantom Menace.

# ? May 18, 2022 04:09

Malpais Legate: Oct 1, 2014

nine-gear crow posted:

At last we finally reveal Jake�s worst, most crippling, irredeemable character flaw. His favourite Star Wars movie is The Phantom Menace.

In his defense he's like 14.

Also he fights aliens a lot so I understand wanting to just spend a day at the races with aliens instead.

# ? May 18, 2022 04:23

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

I like this book because it's so drat weird.

# ? May 18, 2022 04:28

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# ? May 23, 2024 17:36

Rochallor: Apr 23, 2010; ふっっっっっっっっっっっっｃｋ

The final "it was aliens all along!" is really stupid but I love this book as just the anxiety dream of a weary soldier. None of it makes logical sense, but it's all about the sorts of things and decisions that Jake has to think about every day.

# ? May 18, 2022 04:48

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

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