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

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kiminewt: Feb 1, 2022

feetnotes posted:

That�s true of the Yeerks that were in the immediate Earth area, yes. Those that went nothlit have probably done so by now, and within one generation will all be gone, just like the Taxxons.

How much of the Yeerk population is that, though? (Not counting those presumably still blockaded on the homeworld.) Were the Council of Thirteen and the Emperor personally on board that Earth pool ship? Or do they live to invade other species?

Pretty sure there are still Yeerks on the homeworld and there's the Yeerks on the blade ship.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 15:12

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# ? May 26, 2024 03:34

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

edit: whoops

# ? Mar 29, 2023 15:24

OctaviusBeaver: Apr 30, 2009; Say what now?

The Yeerks were at least attacking the Anati homeworld, don't know how many were there. Plus they still control the Taaxon and Hork Bajir planets.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 16:01

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Given that the majority of Yeerks are on earth, though, i get the impression the ones elsewhere surrendered, except the ones on the blade ship

# ? Mar 29, 2023 17:06

Zore: Sep 21, 2010; willfully illiterate, aggressively miserable sourpuss whose sole raison d�etre is to put other people down for liking the wrong things

It is kind of weird that most of the free Hork-Bajir end up staying on Earth in that case. You'd think they'd be organizing a way to go back to their homeworld if the Yeerks no longer hold it.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 17:14

liquidypoo: Aug 23, 2006; Chew on that... you overgrown son of a bitch.

I think for some, if not most of the free Hork-Bajir, earth is the only home they know. Relocating them might be a little cruel, in a weird way. But I suppose relocating them would get them safe and far away from human poachers. If Arbron can get shot by a dumbass, then the Hork-Bajir are just as vulnerable

# ? Mar 29, 2023 17:34

Strategic Tea: Sep 1, 2012

Arbron was shot by undercover XCOM troopers and the evidence is on Ax's laptop

# ? Mar 29, 2023 18:14

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

The Hork-Bajir homework also was biologically attacked. It might still not be safe for them.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 18:32

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Strategic Tea posted:

Arbron was shot by undercover XCOM troopers and the evidence is on Ax's laptop

Oh I think we probably know the exact kind of shithead(s) who murdered Arbron:

# ? Mar 29, 2023 19:03

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

Epicurius posted:

The Hork-Bajir homework also was biologically attacked. It might still not be safe for them.

I also feel like I remember something about the yeerks starting to clear cut the forests? space was already limited, they might have done untold damage

# ? Mar 29, 2023 20:11

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

Did the Arn that came back in the Aldrea book say anything about the state of the planet? I don't remember anything other than that he was the last of the species.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 22:14

mind the walrus: Sep 22, 2006

disaster pastor posted:

I'm far from the first one to point this out, but it goes to show just how strong copaganda has been for decades that popular depictions of the police in media are "courageous defenders of the law" and popular depictions of defense attorneys are "devious scumbags who use technicalities to ensure the worst criminals avoid the punishments they deserve."

The sad thing is it's usually that way out of narrative convenience, and people just have... very low values

# ? Mar 29, 2023 22:53

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

mind the walrus posted:

The sad thing is it's usually that way out of narrative convenience, and people just have... very low values

i think it's more that people tend to be more afraid of being victims of crime than of being falsely accused themselves.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 23:02

mind the walrus: Sep 22, 2006

Epicurius posted:

i think it's more that people tend to be more afraid of being victims of crime than of being falsely accused themselves.

No... narratively if your protagonist is a police officer then a defense attorney makes the most logical sense for a disposable antagonistic force. A judge would be too messy, a Jury too transient, and a corrupt prosecutor is a "special flavor." Defense attorney is by far the path of least resistance to add a 3/4 or 3rd act complication.

# ? Mar 29, 2023 23:25

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

mind the walrus posted:

No... narratively if your protagonist is a police officer then a defense attorney makes the most logical sense for a disposable antagonistic force. A judge would be too messy, a Jury too transient, and a corrupt prosecutor is a "special flavor." Defense attorney is by far the path of least resistance to add a 3/4 or 3rd act complication.

Well, sure, but that's why Perry Mason or Matlock aside, the police are usually the protagonists, and when an innocent person is accused, it's either police incompetence or they've been framed by the actual criminal, With the exception of a few more recent shows, like The Wire or the Shield, the police are usually seen as the "good guys"

# ? Mar 30, 2023 00:18

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

We'll see tomorrow what Marco's plan is for Jake, and if murder is on his mind.

# ? Mar 30, 2023 04:44

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

Avalerion posted:

Having a trial for all this just seems super weird. Would an alien even be subject to earth/human laws?

If you dig into it, "war crimes" is a really recent and really fascinating area of law. The Red Cross only dates back to the mid 1800s, a lot of our modern idea of war crimes dates to post-WWII and the Nuremberg trials, and the idea of an international court of justice in the Hague only dates back to the 1990s (stemming from the Yugoslavia tribunal) so is really in its infancy, legally speaking. You start talking about who's "subject" to those laws and you're really pulling a thread - i.e. Putin had a warrant issued at the Hague the other week, though Russia (like America) has never and still does not recognise the legitimacy of the ICC. Which doesn't matter, because the court is part of the post-WWII order and will try whoever it wants to try, i.e., whoever the rest of the international community agrees deserves pariah status, i.e. never American or British leaders. (I really recommend Geoffrey Robertson's book "Crimes Against Humanity.")

As a kid I was puzzled as to why Visser One was on trial in the Netherlands rather than California, where he'd committed the crimes in question. But as an adult I get it and "Jake gets accused of war crimes at the Hague" is one of the wild curveballs that makes the series so great. Who else would go there but Michael and KA?

kiminewt posted:

The comments earlier about freed hosts having morphing powers made me think about what an absolute cluster gently caress that would be.

You can abuse the morphing power in many hard-to-detect ways, chiefly morphing small things and other humans.

A soldier or terrorist might acquire someone of a similiar build and just go back and forth between morphing and demorphing every time they got injured.

Old people could acquire younger people and turn nothlit (even with consent. Would you let your grandparent turn into a nothlit you?).

How can you justify not giving the morphing power to someone who is critically injured? The andalites should just make a nerfed form that only restores you from your own DNA.

I was thinking more about this the other day and wished I'd properly finished the series slightly later in life because I would have gone hog wild writing fan fiction short stories on all the untied loose ends. The weirdo loser who gets voluntarily recruited by the Sharing, becomes morph capable, feels abandoned by his Yeerk who goes off to become whale nothlit, turns into a creepy incel psycho spying on ex-girlfriends in cockroach morph. The "Department of Alien Interaction" agent who's ex-CIA or FBI and whose job it is to monitor some of the hundreds of morph-capable Americans the government perceives as a potential threat, X-Men style. The world-class limb reattachment surgeon who owes his fame and fortune to the skills he honed as a human-Controller after Ax dropped by the Yeerk Pool. The poor mental patient living with an oatmeal-crazed Yeerk stuck in his head, watching Marco yakking it up on Letterman on the TV mounted in the corner of the common room.

liquidypoo posted:

I think for some, if not most of the free Hork-Bajir, earth is the only home they know. Relocating them might be a little cruel, in a weird way.

Interstellar Liberia

# ? Mar 30, 2023 10:56

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

HaNg on, Alloran has the yeerk sucker 9000 morph doesn't he? Can save that guy

# ? Mar 31, 2023 03:19

Vandar: Sep 14, 2007; Isn't That Right, Chairman?

Mazerunner posted:

HaNg on, Alloran has the yeerk sucker 9000 morph doesn't he? Can save that guy

I would think Alloran is going to be too traumatized and too PTSD-ridden to want to use any of Visser One's morphs, if he even decides to morph again at all.

# ? Mar 31, 2023 03:22

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 13-Jake

quote:

I woke up falling. �Aaaahhhh!�
\
Not a long fall, but it was into water, into waves, into dark gray waves topped with foam. I hit facedown and sank maybe ten feet down. Salt water in my mouth, down my throat. It was freezing. Brutal cold, shocking cold. I wasn�t groggy anymore, I was wide-awake, but disoriented. Which way was up?

Sunlight. Cold and far, far away. I kicked madly, moved with painful slowness. Could I even reach the surface? I was a slug. My clothing billowed and knotted around me, twisted me, hampered my movements. Shoes full of water, like lead weights.

I kicked hard and started to rise. I ripped off my shirt, buttons twirling away in the water. I took my shoes off. I was going to freeze to death.

Then, air!

I sucked in deep, spit water, breathed again. A wave crashed over me, buried me, turned me upside down. Then, air again. But air wasn�t enough. I was freezing. I couldn�t see anything down in the valley between waves. No boat, no shore, no plane. How had I ended up here?

Already couldn�t feel my fingers. Thought slowing.

Dolphin. That was it, dolphin. I reached for the DNA that still flowed through my veins.

I felt the changes begin. My skin was as gray as a corpse�s. My hair was gone. My numb fingers were melting together, webbing, then stretching out to form fins.

My legs twined together like two strands of overcooked spaghetti. The flesh melted, painlessly. I heard the interior sounds of bones shifting, the gloopy sound of organs disappearing or being replaced, relocated.

My mouth and nose pushed out and out, ridiculously far. All at once a hole grew in the back of my neck.

I was no longer cold. I was definitely mad.

I kicked my tail hard, trying to lift my dolphin body high enough to see over the wave tops. Not enough. I would have to jump.

I sucked air through my blowhole and dove down deep. Ten feet; twenty feet, thirty. Down into darkness. I fired a series of clicks and the ultrasonic waves bounced back in patterns that revealed a school of fish behind me at about my same depth. And a hint of something larger at a greater distance. At thirty feet or so I twisted and began powering toward the surface. Up like a rocket. Speed was so easy. So easy to kick my tail and fly straight up through the water. Faster and faster and the bright barrier between sea and sky was right there, shimmering above
me, and I blew through it! I burst from the water and sailed high and for a perfect moment I held sea and sky within me, all encompassed within my brain. I flew, and I completely forgot to look around. I splashed down and reminded myself sternly that I had a job. I had to see where I was, figure it out, try and make sense of it all.

Down and down, and up, up, up, into the sky!

<Aaaahhh!>

Again!

Down and up, so fast, as fast as I could go. As high as I could fly.

Again. Again. Again.

The dolphin body was beginning to tire, but I didn�t care. I wanted to be tired. I wanted to drain every last ounce of energy from the creature as I flew and splashed and flew again.

Ultrasound now painted the picture of three other dolphins. They were clearly �visible,� but they kept their distance.

I swam hard till the dolphin body was worn out. Not easy to wear out a dolphin in the water.

I was not far from the beach. I could see the buildings of The Hague, not at all far off. I headed for shore and beached. I demorphed in the freezing surf and staggered heavy-footed up the beach.

My friends were right behind me. I waited for them. We were wearing our morphing outfits. Like the old days. No shoes, of course, we never had learned how to morph shoes.

There weren�t many people on the beach. Just an old couple taking a walk and a woman with her dog.

�I guess you guys think you�re clever,� I said, squeegeeing water out of my hair.

�More like desperate,� Marco said. �You�ve had your head up your butt for a long time, Jake. Which is your business. Unless it�s our business. Like when you screw up testifying against Visser One.�

I nodded. I couldn�t argue. But if they thought the result was me all happy they were wrong.

�She called me a war criminal,� I said.

�She�s wrong,� Cassie said.

�Did what you had to do, man,� Marco said.

�We all did.�

<Jake, it was I who pointed out the possibilities to you,> Ax said. <I pointed out that the Yeerk pool aboard the ship could be drained.>

�Yeah, but I made the call. I pulled the plug. So why don�t you tell me: How is that prosecutor wrong? How is Visser One evil and I�m not? I�d really like to know that.� I had intended it to be a rhetorical question. I hadn�t meant to sound so plaintive.

Cassie took it seriously. �Jake, I�ve thought a lot about this.�

Marco rolled his eyes. �Yeah, we know.�

�I�ve had to think about it because I�ve done the same things you�ve done, Jake. You were the leader, but if you�re a war criminal then so are we for following you.� She shivered. It was cold and the breeze was gusting. �I�ve had to make my own peace with things I�ve done.�

Despite myself I was hanging on her words. And despite myself I was remembering kissing her. �Jake, you can�t �� She took a deep breath. �You can�t equate the victim and the perpetrator.�

�So as long as you�re playing defense it�s not possible to commit a war crime?� I asked. �That�s pretty close to just saying that the winner makes the rules because it�s the winner who writes the history.�

She grabbed my arm and searched for my eyes, forcing me to look at her. �No, Jake, it isn�t. There are a lot of close calls in history, lots of wars where the blame is evenly split between the sides. This isn�t one of them. Before they came to Earth no human ever attacked a Yeerk. No human ever harmed a Yeerk. This one is clear: We are the victims. They made war on us.�

�That�s good,� I said softly. �All of that is good. We have justification. We�re the good guys.�

Marco said, �That�s right, Big Jake, we are.�

I nodded. �That�s good for the big picture. See, my problem is a little more personal.�

<What do you mean?> Ax asked.

�Well, Ax-man, you�re right, you did call my attention to the possibilities on the Pool ship. And when you did that I guess I should have thought, Well, Jake, it�s a harsh, terrible thing to do, but you�re justified because, after all, you�re the victim here. But that�s not what I thought. You know

what I thought?�

Cassie released her grip on me. But Marco just took a step up close, right in my face.

�I know what you thought, Jake. You thought Die, you filthy worms. Feel the fear, Yeerks. Feel the pain. Feel the helplessness. You wanted them to suffer and the idea of them suffering and dying made you happy. You were thrilled. You were high.�

Cassie winced. She looked away.

I said, �Yeah, Marco. That was about it: word for word.�

�Well, dude, you don�t get to be a war criminal by thinking bad thoughts. It�s what was done, not what was felt or thought. You have to judge the act. You were acting in self-defense. You were enjoying the fact that you were winning. Two different things.�

Cassie seemed less certain. Far less. She seemed ready to join in with Marco, but she couldn�t bring herself to do it. She tried to hide it, but there was this look in her eyes, this sideways look at me.

<Prince Jake,> Ax said, giving me back the title he�d given me long ago, <I am not a human. But it seems to me that it is up to your own people to decide the morality of your actions. Their decision seems clear. My people agree with that assessment. We, the Animorphs under your leadership,
stopped the Yeerk threat. We saved Earth. We may have saved my people as well, surely we saved many, many Andalite lives.>

I was suddenly exhausted. Worn out all the way, deep down. And everyone had run out of things to say. After a long, awkward silence I said, �Anyway. That �� I gestured out toward the water. I wanted to say that it was the first real joy I had felt since seeing Rachel kill Tom. But there was a wall between me and Cassie. And Marco, well, he�s a guy and we guys don�t do a lot of emotional stuff with one another. �Anyway. I�ll be good tomorrow, on the stand.�

CNN: Breaking News.

�We have this just coming in. The five judge panel in The Hague has returned convictions on twenty-two of twenty-five counts of war crimes against the Yeerk, Visser One. �Visser One, of course, led the Yeerk invasion of Earth and was in command of all Yeerk and allied forces at war�s end.

�The decision means that Visser One will almost certainly never be released from the specially constructed prison facility that has been built in Kansas.

�The trial was televised live around the world for three weeks during which time seventy-three witnesses took the stand to substantiate the charges and allegations. Jake Berenson was the first witness, followed by the rest of the living and available Animorphs, and many, many others.
�And now, we�re going to go to our CNN legal analyst, Greta Van Susteren, for analysis of this truly unique moment in legal history.�

Well, there's the trial results. And also, I hope, Jake's chance to make a little peace with his decisions,

Chapter 14-Aximili
Two Years Later

quote:

<Launch two fighters. They are to go in with sensors on full active, no stealth measures. If whoever is hiding behind that moon is peaceful we do not want to sneak up on them. If they are not so peaceful � well, let them think they are facing nothing but a pair of careless fighters.>

<Yes, Prince Aximili.>

Even after the last year aboard the Intrepid, I sensed that my first officer did not entirely approve of my habit of explaining my actions for the deck crew. It was not usual. Captains typically played the part of far-distant and all-knowing gods. I preferred to continuously train and retrain. The
more the deck officers understood, the more they would learn and the more valuable they�d be in a crisis. Not that we�d encountered any crises. Rather we had chased interstellar ghosts and rumors ever since that first, faint intercept that may or may not have been from the Blade ship.

Well, maybe the Blade ship was lurking behind this cold, dark moon at the edge of nowhere, or maybe the Skrit Na freighter had just been confused about what they claimed to have seen.

The Skrit Na did things for their own impenetrable reasons: They had, after all, made a number of trips to Earth, long before the Yeerks had discovered that planet. And what had they done with the people of Earth? Kidnapped them briefly for absurd medical tests, and on occasion killed some Earth creatures called cows. Had any of that had a purpose? Perhaps to the Skrit Na mind, but not to anyone else.

<Fighters away,> my tactical officer reported. I saw the fighters come into view on the main screen. They lit up their sensors and fired their engines. In seconds they were just bright pinpoints against the moon�s dark green backdrop.

<Take us to stage-two alert, just in case,> I ordered. <It never hurts to have everyone know their battle station. And go to silent runnings

<Stage two alert. Silent running,> First Officer Menderash ordered.

Now we were moderately ready in case a �bad guy� was hiding out there, and we were sensorsdown so we didn�t glow like a great big radiating beacon.
A window appeared in the main screen. I saw the face of one of the fighter pilots. Fighter pilots have a certain look, easily identifiable, a mix of swagger and competence and pretended boredom. As if playing the role of bait for a Blade ship was just another training run.

<This is fighter one, Calarass reporting.>

<Go ahead,> Menderash responded.

<There�s a ship back here, all right, but not the Blade ship. No evidence of the Blade ship or any active, hostile vessel on our sensors.>

I nodded. <What do you have then, Calarass?>

He shrugged. <Unknown, Captain. All I know is that it is very big, it is powered by oldfashioned ion engines, and it has been hit by some kind of energy weapon. Possibly a Dracon beam. I am showing no life signs.>

I stilled the excitement in my hearts. Dracon weapons were widely available throughout the galaxy. The destruction of the Yeerk Empire had spawned a lot of illegal arms trading. And the Blade ship was not the only renegade Yeerk outfit. Still, if it had been a Dracon weapon that at least increased the chances we were on the trail of the Blade ship.

I took a moment to consider. Another lesson for the officers: Unless you�re being fired on, think before you act.

<Prepare a boarding party. I will command. F.O.? Full sensor sweep on the unknown vessel. Take us in.>

This sort of mission wasn�t supposed to be performed by me. The captain generally stays on the bridge. The T.O. normally led boarding parties. But I was bored. And I knew the T.O. wouldn�t argue: I wasn�t just the captain or a prince, I was Aximili of Earth. The Aximili. A living legend.
I couldn�t complain about being bored, of course. The fleet command had given me what was easily the best assignment around. The bulk of the fleet was engaged either in flying blockade around the Yeerk home world, convoying traders back and forth to Earth, or escorting scientific missions.
The Intrepid was just about the only ship out �looking for trouble,� as Marco might have put it. Every officer in the fleet was jealous of us. Especially now with so many being eased out of service.

The fleet�s size was being sharply reduced. War�s end meant the end of glory and advancement for warriors. They all had secondary occupations - that was part of our code, that �warrior� was a temporary occupation. You were supposed to want to stop fighting and go home to your meadow and your scoop, back to your peacetime occupation, your family and friends.

I guess some warriors did want all those things. At some level I did, too. But how do you weigh the sharp rush of battle against the slower, more contemplative joys of watching your trees flower?

I left the bridge and went aboard the clumsy-looking boarding craft. It was designed for docking - voluntary or forced - with any conceivable craft. There were four grapples, basically legs of a sort, with the option to use magnetic, adhesive, or intrusive attachment. It was not a fast or well armed or
attractive craft. And it had room for only two dozen Andalites, all of us jammed in hoof-to-tail.

The pilot was at pains to handle the craft smoothly, what with me, the Living Legend, being aboard. I was worried he might overcorrect and humiliate himself. He did, and we nicked the side of the bay.
I sighed. As captain I was expected to point out the error. But as the Great Aximili any harshword from me carried ten times the usual weight.

<Check that stick, Warlatan, the interface may be a bit balky.>

<Yes, Captain.>

I could see the alien vessel now. The two scout fighters were on station, one at the bow, one at the stern, armed and ready. Two additional escort fighters kept pace with us, deployed up-and-down.

It was not a type of craft I had ever seen before. It dwarfed even one of the old Dome ships, big as they were. It made my cruiser-class Intrepid look like a toy. It was built in a sort of star-burst pattern. Asymmetrical. As if someone had picked up a few dozen Earth-style habitations they call skyscrapers and welded the bottoms together. Each skyscraper was different in shape, size, and color, some quite fantastic.

Still, it was easy to see the extrusion that had been blown apart by energy weapons. My hearts began to beat fast again. How many ships would dare to take on this behemoth? Surely the Blade ship had been here.

F.O. Menderash reported in from the Intrepid, which was now in sight of the alien vessel as well. Sensors showed no life signs. However, sensors did show what might be traces of DNA.

I frowned. <DNA? Specifically? Earth origin?>

<The readings are quite possibly inaccurate,> the tactical officer interjected. <The amount of material is very small and the ship, as you can see, Captain, is enormous.>

<Yes, I had noticed that,> I said dryly. <I want a sensor grid established. Link with all four fighters and the docker with main sensors. Let us see if we can pinpoint this alleged DNA. It would take a year to search that ship on hoof.>

This took a few minutes during which time we drifted closer and closer to the silent behemoth.

<We have a fix,> the T.O. reported. <Now a ninety percent probability that Earth-type DNA is present in one location.>

No one said anything but there was a sort of silent murmur of excitement. Warriors shifted their stance, surreptitiously glanced at the charge indicators on their Shredders, nudged each other.

<Sensors continue to show no life signs,> the First Officer said. <However, Captain, since this is a very unusual situation, perhaps you may wish to reconsider whether the T.O. should be given command of the boarding party. Or myself.>

<You sense danger, First Officer Menderash?>

He hesitated. Then, <Yes.>

<Despite the sensor readings showing this is a dead ship?>

This time more forcefully. <Yes, Captain.>

<So do I. Just the same, here I am, might as well go forward. Take us in for docking. Let us go see what this DNA is.>

So now a new mystery. What is the strange ship, and why is there humandna there?

Epicurius fucked around with this message at 14:20 on Mar 31, 2023

# ? Mar 31, 2023 04:35

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

Epicurius posted:

The Skrit Na did things for their own impenetrable reasons: They had, after all, made a number of trips to Earth, long before the Yeerks had discovered that planet. And what had they done with the people of Earth? Kidnapped them briefly for absurd medical tests, and on occasion killed some Earth creatures called cows. Had any of that had a purpose? Perhaps to the Skrit Na mind, but not to anyone else.

C'mon Ax, you know what cows are. You were a cow! You almost got turned into hamburger, something you also know about.

# ? Mar 31, 2023 05:39

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

quote:

�Well, dude, you don�t get to be a war criminal by thinking bad thoughts. It�s what was done, not what was felt or thought. You have to judge the act. You were acting in self-defense. You were enjoying the fact that you were winning. Two different things.�

A fair call, though Jake might have difficulty applying it to his firebombing of Dresden

# ? Mar 31, 2023 12:43

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

Interesting short piece on the British secret service's view of the Nuremberg trials, which I found while trying to confirm my memory that it was the Americans who pushed for trials while the British just wanted to hang them all:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/oct/26/britain-execution-nuremberg-nazi-leaders

You read some stuff and think, yeah, that's pretty reasonable:

quote:

There, he felt his fear that the tribunals would be little better than show trials had been confirmed. "One cannot escape the feeling that most of the things the 21 are accused of having done over a period of 14 years, the Russians have done over a period of 28 years. This adds considerably to the somewhat phoney atmosphere of the whole proceedings and leads me to the point which in a way worries me most, namely, that the court is one of the victors who have framed their own charter, their own procedure and their own rules of evidence in order to deal with the vanquished."

Then you read some stuff and think, oh, yeah, this same dude was a very senior British public servant when the British Empire was still a thing:

quote:

Liddell thought it unwise to prosecute the Nazis for having waged a war of aggression. "One cannot help feeling ... a dangerous precedent is being created," he said.

# ? Mar 31, 2023 13:03

disaster pastor: May 1, 2007

freebooter posted:

Interesting short piece on the British secret service's view of the Nuremberg trials, which I found while trying to confirm my memory that it was the Americans who pushed for trials while the British just wanted to hang them all:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/oct/26/britain-execution-nuremberg-nazi-leaders

You read some stuff and think, yeah, that's pretty reasonable:

Then you read some stuff and think, oh, yeah, this same dude was a very senior British public servant when the British Empire was still a thing:

He does a lot of telling on himself in the quotes in that article. "The US and USSR support public trials instead of private executions, so I guess 'we are just being dragged down to the level of the travesties of justice that have been taking place in the USSR for the past 20 yrs.'"

Also, reminder that this is Guy Liddell, whose enduring legacy is "the guy so much dumber than he thought he was that he had to retire from MI6 when it turned out the biggest spy ring in England was 'all of Guy Liddell's closest friends.'"

# ? Mar 31, 2023 13:18

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

Honestly quite astute writing in that it mirrored the debates we had in this thread- comparing Jake's actions to his thoughts

# ? Mar 31, 2023 21:05

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

quote:

Cassie seemed less certain. Far less. She seemed ready to join in with Marco, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She tried to hide it, but there was this look in her eyes, this sideways look at me.

I wonder how much of this is real and how much of it is Jake's guilty conscience.

# ? Mar 31, 2023 21:16

Strategic Tea: Sep 1, 2012

Rochallor posted:

C'mon Ax, you know what cows are. You were a cow! You almost got turned into hamburger, something you also know about.

The Skrit Na have experimented with at least ten of your cows, Prince Jake

# ? Mar 31, 2023 23:15

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Ax knows what a cow is. He doesn't know why the Skrit-Na mutilate them. I assume he calls them Earth creatures because he's writing for an Andalite audience, who wouldn't know what cows are.

Anyway, more chapters tomorrow

# ? Apr 1, 2023 05:39

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 15-Jake

quote:

Controlling the animal mind and instincts are hardest the first time. The instincts can carry you away, especially in prey animals where the fear reflex is overwhelming. After that first time it becomes easier. Which is why you never go into battle with an untested morph.�

�But, Professor, you did.�

�Yeah, well, I did lots of stupid things, Sergeant Santorelli. I was a kid when I started. I think your respective governments are kind of hoping that you professionals will learn the good habits from me, not the bad ones.�

I was instructing a class. My third in the last year. It was a special class of two dozen men and women, chosen from among elite antiterror forces of democratic nations around the world. I had Americans, British, French, Japanese, German, and Norwegian soldiers in this particular class. Terrorism had grown as a problem. Many of the worst were religious cults convinced that the presence of alien species on Earth was delaying a hoped-for Armageddon. Some were antigovernment paranoids who had convinced themselves that the Andalites were taking over Earth. Others were sort of latter-day racists who simply needed someone to hate and focused on the Hork-Bajir. Then there were the ecology extremists who just hated anything new and technological. Terrorists had begun to attack Andalite tourists and free Hork-Bajir. And the Andalites had
agreed to make a single morphing cube available, on condition that it remain in Andalite custody and be used only for antiterror forces.

We�d always known it was a bad idea to get between an Andalite tourist in human morph and a chocolate chip cookie, a cinnamon bun, or (to the great relief of the beleaguered tobacco industry), old cigarette butts.

On a more serious level, Andalite-Earth trade and tourism were becoming big business. The Andalites liked the status quo as much as humans did. I needed a job. I needed to do something useful. And I was the reigning expert on using animal morphs for infiltration, surveillance, and combat.
They called me Professor. A joke, obviously, I still hadn�t formally graduated from high school. But they had to call me something, these amazingly fit, smart, disciplined men and women, some of whom were twice my age. Classes were terribly Top Secret, naturally. The �school� was a squat cinder block building in a forgotten corner of the Twenty-nine Palms Marine Corps base. Way out in the California desert.

Nothing around.

I lived in Santa Barbara, now. After the trial of Visser One, and endless nagging from Marco (and his agent and manager and assorted Hollywood friends), I finally wrote a book. It was an autobiography, of course. I hated doing it. But it was a way for me to tell people more about Rachel
and Tobias, the Forgotten Animorphs, as people called them.

The book made way more money than I needed. I bought a house for my folks and finally moved out on my own. Tom was gone. My hanging around my parents� house till I was thirty wasn�t going to bring him back.

Marco lived half a mile from me, in a house about seven times bigger than mine. We�d started hanging out again. And after awhile he�d given up arranging dates for me with whatever starlet happened to be willing.

The Defense Department was my official employer and they flew me in a private military jet from Santa Barbara to Twenty-nine every day of class. Flew me back in the evening. I would sit there pretending to work on lesson plans, stare out the window at the sun setting over the Pacific, and watch the birds below.

I had seen red-tailed hawks at times. But there was no way to know.

I spoke to Cassie every couple of months. She was seeing some guy � actually, a good guy. I had met him at one of Marco�s parties. I couldn�t exactly remember his name. He worked for the governor of California on environmental concerns. He and Cassie spent a lot of time working together with the Hork-Bajir in Yellowstone.

It was a Friday, the last day of class for the week and my students were glad to be done with me for a while, and I was glad to be heading home.

My ride was waiting outside the building. They drove me back and forth in a Humvee with all kinds of security - a courtesy befitting my status as an official hero.

I had been given the Presidential Medal of Freedom and a similarly exalted medal from pretty much every nation on Earth. Some before the trial, some more afterward. If I�d suffered anything tangible from having the title of �war criminal� applied to me, I never noticed it. And I�d gotten so I almost didn�t notice the security that followed me everywhere since I�d become terrorist target number one.

The Humvee pulled up alongside my parked jet and I waited, as I�d learned to do, for the marine driver to come running around and open my door. The delay gave time for the two security men to jump out and ostentatiously scan the area.

�Kind of hot out today, Professor,� the driver said as I climbed out.

�Yeah, but it�s a dry heat,� I said. �See you Monday, Corporal.�

I pushed my sunglasses up on my nose and headed for the plane. Then I stopped. One of the security guys was pressing his earpiece in and listening intently. He raised his wrist and spoke to his walkie-talkie. �Roger that. I�ll ask.�

�Ask what, Major?� I said.

�Sir, an Andalite has landed, unannounced. He�s here on base. Asking for you.�

�Prince Aximili?�

�I don�t think so, sir. They can bring him straight here if you okay it.�

I nodded. �Let�s get into the shade, at least.�

We waited and after a while a convoy of Humvees appeared through the wavy heat lines of the tarmac. Two Andalites, not one, rode in the horse trailer towed behind a Humvee. These Andalites had never taken offense at this unusual mode of transport, and it worked better than trying to cram
them into a car.

The two Andalites descended the ramp. I went to greet them and led them under the plane�s wings, out of the sun�s direct rays.

<I am Prince Caysath-Winwall-Esgarrouth. This is Menderash-Postill-Fastill. First Officer of the Intrepid.>

<Ax�s ship? I mean, excuse me, Prince Aximili�sship?>

<Yes,> Caysath confirmed. <Menderash is the only known survivor of the lntrepid.>

I guess I looked pretty stupid for a minute as that news sank in.

�Are you telling me Ax is dead?�

Caysath slowly shook his head. It was a habit they learned as part of communicating with humans. <No. He is not confirmed dead. Only missing. In fact, we have reason to believe that he may still be alive, but a prisoner.>

�Whose prisoner?� I snapped.

It was Menderash who answered. <The Blade ship.>

So, first off, 29 Palms is a real Marine Corps base (the country's largest) in the Mojave, in San Bernadino County. Twentynine Palms is also one of the ways to get inside Joshua Tree National Park. This also confirms that his ship ran into the Blade Ship out there.

Chapter 16-Jake

quote:

We returned to base so that Menderash could explain. My heart was pounding. My pulse was
racing. I was a little embarrassed by my response, but this was Ax, one of us. One of mine.

Menderash was telling the story.

<We approached the unknown alien vessel. Prince Aximili ordered the docking ship to board at a place near the suspected DNA reading.>

�No life signs?�

<None,> Menderash answered. He was visibly shaken. I realized then that he was carrying the weight of this. I knew the signs. <We ran every sensor reading we know. You have to understand, it is a thousand times easier to detect life signs than to detect a tiny sample of DNA, we were sure thealien vessel was dead-in-space.>

I nodded. �Go ahead.�

<The docking was uncomplicated. They grappled and cut through the outer hull. Prince Aximili and a dozen heavily armed warriors boarded. For a while they merely reported back on the interior of the ship. It had clearly been inhabited at some time. But there was no sign of current activity. None. If
there had been, I never ->

<Just proceed with the story,> Caysath said gently.

<Of course.> Menderash stopped the agitated quiver of his stalk eyes and forced himself to stand still. <They used handheld sensors to pinpoint the DNA sample. Prince Aximili picked it up, held it.

He said, <It is a few hairs. White.> Then, he frowned and said, <No, not truly white. Colorless almost. Hollow.>

I knew what was coming next. I knew the animal with hollow, colorless hairs that from a distance seemed white. Polar bear.
It was a Yeerk with a polar bear morph that had killed Rachel.

<Then the prince shouted for the warriors to draw weapons. He ordered me to raise defenses on the Intrepid and go to condition one. A split second later the alien vessel fired at us. It was a very powerful weapon. They caught us only half ready. See, sensors are less effective when used while
defensive force fields are raised. The attack crippled the Intrepid. Half our people � there were many casualties. Chaos, as you can imagine. Blood. Computers down � Communications down �

The T.O., he was, he was sucked out into space before the force fields could close the breach.>

�The alien vessel, not the Blade ship, fired?� I asked.

<Yes. It was fully operational. Alive. Very much alive. My duty was to the ship. Standing orders were to save the ship. I had no choice but to withdraw. All four fighters were lost. We pulled back.

But just before I did, before I could, I heard him. Prince Aximili, the captain. Not by link, but through normal thought-speak. Very weak. Far away.>

�Yes?�

<The doctors believe I suffered a temporary stress reaction. An hallucination. That I was hearing things.>

�What is it you heard, First Officer?�

<Prince Aximili. He said your name. Just your name. Jake.>

Both Andalites watched me, waiting to see my reaction. The marine guards in the room with us watched, too. Their envy was obvious. Neither had seen combat.

<And then, the engines went. We lost most life support. We called for help, but � Norshk pirates hit us and we couldn�t even put up a fight. Help came, but too late. Air gone. Cold.> He lost the thread of his story, looked embarrassed, and fell silent.

Caysath took up the narrative. <Menderash believes the thought-speak cry came from the Blade ship, which emerged from within the alien vessel and fled at top speed. The alien vessel followed the Blade ship and fired repeatedly at the Intrepid, which followed for a while. But their engines were
damaged and they couldn�t keep pace. The Blade ship and the alien vessel then entered Kelbrid space.>

�What�s that?�

Caysath hesitated. Looked at me with his big, main eyes. Waited.

�Please, wait outside,� I told the marines.

Once they were gone, Caysath said, <The Kelbrid claim an empire that borders the far reaches of our own territory. They are dangerous. Warlike. Aggressive. But also very trustworthy. We have a treaty with one simple proviso: We do not enter Kelbrid space, they do not enter ours.>

�Was this alien vessel a Kelbrid ship?�

<We do not know. We have never seen a Kelbrid. They, likewise have no direct knowledge of us.>

�Are they in league with the Blade ship?�

<There is no way to know.>

I was getting impatient. �These Kelbrid would have reason to want a live Andalite. First rule of intelligence: Know your enemy.�

<Yes.>

�So what are you doing about it?�

He looked very closely at me. <Nothing. We cannot enter Kelbrid space without starting a war. No Andalite ship, no Andalite warrior could enter Kelbrid space. The risk is far too great, even to attempt to rescue Prince Aximili.>

�No Andalite ship.�

<Absolutely not.>

He was definitely leading me somewhere. Where? Then it hit me. �There must be any number of surrendered Yeerk ships around.�

<I believe there are,> he said blandly. <I believe, to name just one example, that there is a Yeerk prototype ship in orbit above us at this very moment. Very fast. Heavily armed. A sort of smaller version of a Blade ship. We think it was a Yeerk attempt to design an Intrepid-class ship. Yes, I
believe such a ship, a definitely non-Andalite ship, is in orbit at this very moment, fully fueled, fully armed.>

�And who is going to fly it?�

In answer, Menderash began to morph. He was morphing to human.

�He�s still an Andalite,� I said.

<In two hours, I will no longer be an Andalite,> Menderash said.

This is, as we know, a major sacrifice for an Andalite, and shows the respect Ax's crew have for him.

Epicurius fucked around with this message at 02:42 on Apr 3, 2023

# ? Apr 2, 2023 03:07

mind the walrus: Sep 22, 2006

Menderash giving up his native species life like that out of survivor's guilt is gut-wrenching, especially because Jake clearly sees it and isn't protesting at all.

Also laughing at the terminal awkwardness of Jake's string of dates with Hollywood starlets at Marco's behest. Especially circa 2001. Like did Jake have dinner with Britney Spears? I can totally picture Marco setting him up with like Lauren Ambrose or something. "You'll like her man. She has depth, like you."

mind the walrus fucked around with this message at 14:42 on Apr 2, 2023

# ? Apr 2, 2023 03:56

Zore: Sep 21, 2010; willfully illiterate, aggressively miserable sourpuss whose sole raison d�etre is to put other people down for liking the wrong things

Its also interesting that we're like 3 years out from the war now and already seeing the Andalites sharing the morphing technology even more widely than they were forced into at the end of the war. That coupled with some of Ax's thoughts are really showing the difference between peacetime and wartime Andalite society.

Also the throwaway about cigarette companies pivoting to selling cigarette butts to Andalite tourists is one of the dumbest details and my favorite in the series.

# ? Apr 2, 2023 04:11

JesusSinfulHands: Oct 24, 2007; Sartre and Russell are my heroes

I re read this final book every few years or so and I totally forget about Kelbrid space everytime.

# ? Apr 2, 2023 10:46

Zore: Sep 21, 2010; willfully illiterate, aggressively miserable sourpuss whose sole raison d�etre is to put other people down for liking the wrong things

Also always forget about the Kelbrid. Wonder if that's where Stellaris gets 'Kelbrid' from in its default species name list, there are a few other things in that game that also feel like pretty explicit Animorphs references like the brain slugs and an event that features essentially the Ellimist.

# ? Apr 2, 2023 13:10

disaster pastor: May 1, 2007

mind the walrus posted:

Menderash giving up his native species life like that out of survivor's guilt is gut-wrenching, especially because Jake clearly sees it and isn't protesting at all.

This is what I also always take away from this chapter.

# ? Apr 2, 2023 17:10

World War Mammories: Aug 25, 2006

I opened up the book barn for some reason I don't remember like two weeks ago and noticed this thread. in the intervening time I have wrecked my sleep schedule staying up devouring every single page, again. loved the books as a kid but stopped I think in the late 20s; in response to a gbs thread a couple years back I found the complete series online and chewed through it in a couple weeks; just now I've read ahead and finished it once again.

not much to say that folks here haven't already said, so I guess I'll just join the chorus: what a good series. amazing that it's intended for middle schoolers - the technical level of the writing fits, but the themes... too bad about the spinning-its-wheels ghostwriter era but even that had plenty of bits that were totally worth it. and I think it sticks the landing. thanks for posting this thread.

# ? Apr 2, 2023 18:36

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 17-Cassie

quote:

I was with Ronnie Chambers, my state of California counterpart of sorts. He was the governor�s liaison to the Hork-Bajir. We had left our assistants and even my omnipresent security detail behind. We were scouting out a new valley as a possible extension of the Hork-Bajir territory. The Hork-Bajir were a growing population.

It was a hard climb, but we were high above the summer�s heat and I had come to really love searching out the endless still-undiscovered secrets of Yellowstone. I was getting to be a hiking jock, even eschewing morphing except in cases of emergency or special need. I�d spent so much time in hiking boots and wool socks and L.L. Bean plaid shirts that Rachel�s entire ongoing satire of my wardrobe would have had to change. Not that I was exactly fashionable, but now, instead of being pestered by Wal-Mart to do endorsements, I was being pestered by
Patagonia. Ronnie was just slightly ahead of me, the slope was very steep and he was digging his feet in
very carefully.

I had resisted the whole dating thing for a longtime. And I resisted it with Ronnie in particular because we had to work together. Plus he was six years older than me.

But, after The Hague, I knew I had to move on. I wasn�t just Cassie the Animorph anymore. I had been moved out of the Interior Department when the new President was elected. She had appointed me instead to the new position of Special Assistant to the President for Resident Aliens. I was
nineteen and I was in the President�s sub-cabinet. Of course, yes, I would always be Cassie the Animorph. There was yet another movie coming
out about us and my part was going to be played by an actress who was about a foot taller and twenty pounds lighter than me. So there�d be the inevitable �Where are they now?� stories about Jake and Marco and me. And of course the inevitable bogus Tobias sightings.

I really wasn�t trying to �Put all that behind me.� I was Cassie the Animorph, always would be. I was in history books, after all. But I had a different life to lead now. I was going forward. At the moment I was going forward uphill toward a pair of very muscular legs.

And then I spotted the falcon.

Don�t ask me how I knew. There were occasional peregrines up here, real ones. But I knew.

�Ronnie?� I said.

�Yeah?� He stopped and held on to a sapling. He smiled down at me. �What, you need a break? I told you not to eat those pancakes. I told you they�d slow you down.�

I generated a smile that he read as fake.

�What�s the matter, Cass?�

�There�s a friend of mine coming.�

He looked down the hill. Then up. I pointed straight up at the peregrine falcon inscribing circles above us.

�One of them?�

�Jake.�

�Oh.�

Ronnie knew about my relationship with Jake. I�d probably bored him half to death talking about my relationship with Jake. I felt sorry for him - Ronnie was a man�s man, smart, confident, decent, funny. But in the public imagination, Jake was still some melding of George Washington and Patton
and Batman. It was impossible not to be a little intimidated by all that.

Ronnie made a thoughtful face and looked around. �You know what? I�ll just head toward that outcropping up there. That should be a good observation post. Whenever you�re done ��

�Thanks, Ronnie.�

Jake came spiraling down, then straightened out to land on a fallen log. He hopped off the log and began to demorph as soon as his talons were on the ground.

<Stand in front of me,> he said. <I�m going to roll right down the mountain if I demorph in the wrong order.>

He demorphed without problems. And then, there he was: Jake. Not the old Jake, exactly, a little bigger, an inch or two taller. Jake as a grown-up, I thought. But then, no, that was wrong: Jake had been a grown-up for a long time.

�Hi, Cassie.�

Jake always called me Cassie. Never Cass like Ronnie did.

�Hi, Jake. Is something the matter?�

He winced, a rueful acknowledgment that only some problem would have brought him to see me. �It�s Ax. Some Andalite bigshot came to see me yesterday. Ax was on a deep-space mission and his ship was attacked. He was taken prisoner.�

�Oh, my god,� I said, and without thinking grabbed Jake�s arm.

�Yeah. It was the Blade ship. It disappeared into some place the Andalites can�t follow. Not without triggering a major interstellar war. It�s some treaty. No Andalite ships. No Andalites period. Thing is, the Blade ship may have taken Ax across the barrier in order to use his presence there as a
trigger, to cause a war between the Andalites and these Kelbrid.�

I had barely absorbed the information about Ax being in trouble. I was slow on picking up the thread of Jake�s statement. Then it dawned.

�They�re asking you to go after Ax?�

He made a wry smile. �Of course not. That would be a violation of the Andalite-Kelbrid treaty. They can�t ask me to do any such thing. Of course, if I just happened to find a nice, new, gassed-up and ready-to-go captured Yeerk ship, and if I just happened to decide to go off on my own to rescue
my friend� . well, you get the picture.�

�Jake, this sounds � I mean, one ship? You�re supposed to go into some hostile space with one ship, and rescue Ax from the Blade ship and possibly a whole alien empire?�

�Plus it seems there may be a third, unknown alien species involved,� Jake said. He smiled in a way that was so much like Rachel. That same self-mocking swagger. How had I never noticed that similarity before?

�Marco will be going with me,� he added.

�He will? He agreed?�

�No, not yet. I haven�t asked him. But he will.�

I didn�t want to say the words. I didn�t want to. But Ax was more than a friend. How many times had he risked his life to save mine? I couldn�t count the number of times I�d been down and only his flashing tail had brought me out alive.

�I�ll go, too,� I said. �I just need a day to wrap things up and ��

He was shaking his head. �No, Cassie.�

�Look, if it�s because of us, because of, you know, you and me, hey, that�s separate and apart from saving Ax. Ax is one of us.�

�That�s not it, Cassie,� he said, all the swagger gone now. He was the old, awkward Jake now, struggling to express feelings instead of making lightning decisions. �Look, Cassie, you�re doing what you need to do and were born to do. Part of what we won was freedom for the Hork-Bajir people. And a place for them here on Earth. That�s something we won. It�s in the bank. It�s real and it�s good and your job is to protect it. Me �� He shrugged. �Look, for better or worse, this is what I do. This is what I am, not what you are.�

�I�m still pretty good in a fight,� I said.

He laughed. �Pretty good? Cassie, you�re a one-woman army. But you�re the soldier who has fought her war and moved on. That�s good. It�s not me, though. Come on, Cassie, we both know this is a lifeline for me.�

I brushed away a tear. I didn�t know how I felt. Relieved? Rejected?

�So you just came to say �good-bye�?� My voice quavered miserably.

�No. I mean, yes, to say good-bye. For now. But also, I came for Tobias.�

I stared at him.

�Don�t bother to tell me you don�t know where he is,� Jake said. �I�m sure he�s sworn you to secrecy. But you have to ask yourself what�s best for Tobias now. Ax was his shorm. He has to go, you know that, even if he does hate me.�

�He doesn�t hate you, Jake. He never did. His heart was broken, that�s all. And you know, Tobias never had anyone. No one before Rachel. No mother, really, no father he could ever know. Rachel was the first and only person who ever loved Tobias.�

Jake nodded. �Yeah. I know. But Ax was his friend. So are all of us, even if he doesn�t want it hat way. So tell me how to find him.�

A few minutes later, after watching Jake morph and fly away, I climbed up to where Ronnie waited.

I knew I had said good-bye to Jake forever.

So that's sad. It's good Cassie found somebody, though.

Chapter 18- Tobias

quote:

The world�s smartest mouse wiggled his nose at me. Oh, he knew I was watching, all right. He knew. He was brown, not especially plump or juicy-looking. He had a tail that I had shortened by an inch on a previous encounter. But since that one close call he had outsmarted me every time I�d gone
after him.

It was a lesson in humility. I was a red-tailed hawk with the mental powers of a human. I was being out-thought by a mouse. The question was, should I even try? I had a nice perch, all I had to do was spread my wings and swoop right down on him. By all rights he was mine. But he�d been �mine�
before, and I�d ended up with talons full of dirt and grass.

I could see him twitching his nose. No, he knew. He was just waiting to mess with me.

<Okay, Old Man Mouse, you live for another day. I�m not falling for it today.>

I shifted my gaze, slowly scanning my meadow. It was a nice meadow. Up-country where the air was clear and clean, and sunny days baked the wildflowers and gave me the updrafts I needed. The bouncing little stream drew plenty of small prey - except for the year before when the drought had just about starved me out. But now the high snowcaps were melting and the stream gurgled along, and the mice and rats and shrews and rabbits and skunks and moles - all the juicy prey animals - were present

in abundance. All mine during the daylight hours.

At night the meadow belonged to the owl who lived in the lightning-struck aspen. But he kept his hours and I kept mine, and there was food enough for both of us. The only real competition came from the occasional wolf pack or a lone cougar, but I still had all my morphs available, and it�s a rare
alpha wolf who�ll decide to keep his pack in bear country.

Today, though, I had a different problem: campers. They had set up their tent the night before, across the meadow, right beside the stream. They�d made a safe, careful fire of fallen branches, and they had at least had the decency to dig a slit trench a good distance away from my water supply, so they weren�t complete idiots. But I didn�t like having them there.

Hikers seldom came to my meadow. It was far from the regular trails and far from the places where they could easily observe Hork-Bajir in the trees. These two were hardcore crunchies, I guess.

They followed all the rules and customs, made sure they collected their trash and banked their fire and when the girl played her flute it was with professional skill.

It had bothered me, the flute. It was a favorite instrument for hikers, and was usually played with the skill level you�d expect of a preschooler. But this was different. Last night I�d moved in closer to hear and to see. She had the moves of a professional, the ease, the focus, all that. The music had reached me and I guess so had she. She didn�t look anything like Rachel. And the guy with her didn�t look anything like me, obviously. But something about them, the two of them, the couple, they looked like what I thought we�d look like. They were in love, even a hawk could see that. And although a hawk�s visual acuity is well-known, fewer people know that we also have extraordinarily good hearing. I could hear the music. I could hear them talk.

I had hoped they�d move on with first light. But they were dawdling, indecisive, as though not sure they wanted to leave my meadow. Well, I could change their minds for them in a hurry if I needed to.

I didn�t know what to do. If they stayed another night she would play her flute again. Which shouldn�t bother me. But if there�s one great lesson to surviving alone, it�s this: Don�t lie to yourself.

I was all I had, and I had to tell myself the truth, and the truth was that their presence bothered me.

So, as I raised my predatory gaze from Old Man Mouse and saw that the girl was getting ready to drink from the stream, I thought I�d better run them off. I didn�t want to feel bad, I wanted to catch myself a nice, plump skunk pup. I didn�t want to mope, tortured by miserable, pointless longing.

Then, before I could act, the girl froze. She stared and called softly but urgently to her friend, and pointed.

A Hork-Bajir was leaping from tree to tree. My mood picked up instantly. It was Toby. She had reached her full size now, a big, dangerous-looking goblin.
I opened my wings, skimmed low over Old Man Mouse�s burrow, just to keep him on his toes, flapped and skimmed the flower tops toward my Hork-Bajir namesake.

<Hi, Toby. Longtime no �>

Only then did I see the wolf who trotted along easily beneath the swinging Hork-Bajir. A wolf? Had to be Cassie.

Toby dropped to the ground.

�Hello, Tobias. I hope you are well.�

<Tolerable,> I answered guardedly. I landed on a low branch, just above Toby�s eye level. The wolf wasn�t saying anything yet, but there was no way it was a normal wolf.

�Tobias, I have done something you may disapprove of,� Toby said. She was always ridiculously deferential when addressing me. It was a bit silly, what with her being not only the de facto head of the Hork-Bajir, but also, under U.S. law, officially the Governor of the Hork-Bajir Free Colony and a nonvoting observer-member in the House of Representatives.

I could be mad at her or I could trust her. I decided to be both. <All right, who is it?> I demanded sharply.

<It�s me, Tobias,> Jake said.

He began to demorph. Now the two campers were snapping pictures like mad and that didn�t improve my mood. I yelled at them in thought-speak. <Hey, Ken and Barbie, knock it off. This is my meadow. You want to stay, sit down and stay quiet!>

It was harsh of me, but I had to yell at someone. I was disturbed. Thrown off stride. I hadn�t spoken to Jake in years. Not since Rachel � But I was so surprised, so taken aback that I had trouble summoning up the rage I thought I still felt toward him.

He assumed his normal shape. Older than when I�d last seen him. The last of the boy general had disappeared to be replaced by a young man with an old man�s eyes. The campers were barely breathing now, a hundred feet away, staring like nitwits. Of course they�d recognize Jake. And unless they were dumber than I thought, they�d figure out who I was. Even in this very-much-altered world, there weren�t a lot of birds who�d yell at you.

<Well, Jake,> I said with what I hoped was a rock-steady thought-speak voice, <what�s up with you?>

�I�m doing good,� he said.

<You�re older.>

�So are you.�

<Well, it was fun catching up. Bye.> I spread my wings.

�It�s about Ax,� Jake said.

I should have flown away. I knew I should have. But Ax had said I was his shorm. It�s an Andalite word for someone who is closer than a friend.
During the war we�d both been exiles in the woods, Ax and me. Neither of us had a real home. His family was a billion miles away, mine didn�t really exist. Only later did we discover that Ax and I were, because of almost unbelievable circumstances, actually related.

I could fly away. If I didn�t, I was trapped. I would be trapped with Jake. Again.

<What about Ax?> I asked.

What can I say? He's getting the team back together,

# ? Apr 3, 2023 03:16

OctaviusBeaver: Apr 30, 2009; Say what now?

I get the feeling that Applegate doesn't realize that Yellowstone is not in California and also that it's buried in snow 7 months out of the year.

# ? Apr 3, 2023 03:35

WrightOfWay: Jul 24, 2010

Maybe she wanted it to be Yosemite and the publisher wanted it to be Yellowstone?

# ? Apr 3, 2023 03:45

Zore: Sep 21, 2010; willfully illiterate, aggressively miserable sourpuss whose sole raison d�etre is to put other people down for liking the wrong things

I do like this little bit we get of Tobias. Even with how much he hasn't coped he's still at least in touch with Toby and Cassie (and hopefully Loren) which is better than him going full hermit at least. Like he seems more functional than Jake was pre-Hague which is an interesting contrast, even if his choice to live as a hawk in the middle of nowhere is not something most people would ever choose.

# ? Apr 3, 2023 03:53

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# ? May 26, 2024 03:34

Star Man: Jun 1, 2008; There's a star maaaaaan
Over the rainbow

I'm from central Wyoming and I'm pretty sure the snow isn't that bad by spring. It's way the gently caress up high in the continental divide and double the elevation of Yosemite, but you can hike and camp there by April.

# ? Apr 3, 2023 04:03

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

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