Tobias agreed. He led the way down.
We dived at high speed, rocketing down through the air. The brilliant white dome rushed up at us. I shot through the open rectangle and banked sharply right.
It was much darker inside than outside. Below me was the incredibly long tube of the telescope.
<I see doors down below. Those are probably offices,> Tobias said. <They’ll probably have computers in all the offices. If we can find one that’s empty.>
<Yes. That would be good. But I will need fingers.>
<For . . .>
<For whatever it is I’m doing,> I said.
We circled swiftly around the inside of the dome. As I flew, I kept expecting to see humans below. But none ever appeared.
<This place is awfully empty,> Tobias said.
<Yes. It seems almost abandoned,> I agreed. <Tobias, I am going down. My morph time is running short. Now is when I should go on alone.>
<Yeah. Gotcha. Good luck, Ax-man. Whatever you’re doing, be careful.>
Tobias swept up and out of the dome. I was alone.
I drifted down toward the floor. Down and down, to land on a table. There was a computer console workstation. But no humans in sight.
I saw an open door leading to what seemed to be a dark and empty office. I flapped my wings twice and was inside.
Harrier eyes, like hawk eyes, are adapted for daylight. They are not very good in the dark. But the harrier also has extremely good hearing. I dimly saw a desk and came to rest on it. Then I concentrated on listening.
I was alone in the room. I was certain of that. The only human sounds I heard came through the walls.
Conversation. I could not make out the sounds, but they all seemed to be concentrated in one area.
<Ax, can —— hear me?>
It was Tobias. His thought-speech was faint.
<Just barely,> I answered.
<I’m outside. I’m loo —— ing —— a window —— here. I see — ven —— in a room. —— like some kind of meeting.>
<Yes, I can hear them,> I said. <Can you keep watch over them? Let me know if they come this way?>
<Yeah. If any —— leaves the —— ting, I’ll know ——,> Tobias said.
<I can barely hear you,> I said. <I’m going to morph.>
<Can’t —— very well, but go ——>
My plan was to morph to my normal Andalite form, then quickly move into my human morph, just in case any humans saw me. But I was tired from the flight. And morphing is very tiring. Especially quick morphing. And if I had to make a quick escape it would mean passing through my Andalite body to move back to harrier.
I would never be able to handle that many changes in a short time. I decided to risk staying in Andalite form.
Besides . . . if it worked and I reached my home, I wanted my parents to know me when they saw me.
I began the demorphing. I could only hope that Tobias would be able to give me enough warning.
Even though I loved being a bird, it was a good feeling when my tail began to form again. An Andalite without a tail is just sad.
And no matter how powerful a hawk’s eyes may be, they can still only look in one direction at a time. As my stalk eyes re-formed, I breathed a sigh of relief. I could once again see in all directions.
There was no computer in the office. I was very annoyed by that fact. It meant I would have to go back into the observatory to use the computer there.
My hooves slipped on the polished floor. I swung my eyes in every direction, keeping a sharp lookout.
I pushed the chair away from the computer workstation. I began typing on the antique keyboard. The screen asked me for a password.
<Password?> I laughed. I disabled the security system and confirmed that Marco’s father’s new software was already in place.
Good. That would make it easier. As quickly as I could, I wrote in a virus that would swiftly transform the software that controlled the radio telescope.
Since humans had no awareness of zero space, they did not understand that a powerful radio receiver could be tuned in such a way as to create a Z-Space vacuum and open a cross-dimensional gateway.
Once I had opened a small hole in Z-Space, it was child’s play to use the same receivers to modulate and reflect the background radiation into a coherent signal. The hard part would be using thought-speech to control the signal. That would take absolute concentration.
<Still ——— out here,> Tobias said.
I hoped the word I couldn’t hear was okay.
It took about ten Earth minutes to adjust the radio telescope. Ten minutes, and I had moved human science ahead by a century or so.
Ten minutes to completely violate Andalite law.
I pressed the “enter” key.
The thousands of lines of computer language disappeared from the computer’s screen.
The screen went blank.
I focused my mind as sharply as I could. I pictured the coherent signal. I pictured that beam going through my own head.
<Andalite Home,> I thought. <Andalite Home.>
The screen flickered.
A face appeared. It was a hard, suspicious face. But it was an Andalite face.
<Who is this?> the Andalite demanded. <This is a high-security link. You are not an authorized sender. State your name and location.>
<My name is Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill. Brother of Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul. Son of Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf and Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen.>
The Andalite stared at me. <Elfangor’s brother?> he wondered. <What is your location?>
<My location is the planet called Earth.>
Earth!>
<Yes.>
<Is Prince Elfangor with you?>
For a moment my concentration wavered. I lost the signal. But then, I forced myself to focus. This was too important to let my emotions mess things up.
<Who are you?> I asked.
He looked surprised that I would ask. <I am Ithileran-Halas-Corain. Assistant to the Head of Planetary Communications.>
<Thank you. Ithileran, my brother’s life . . . ended,> I said. <The Dome ship was destroyed. I am the only survivor.>
I could see that this was a surprise. Ithileran’s eyes were downcast, and he lowered his stalk eyes as well in a gesture of grief.
<Your brother was a great warrior. And I mourn also for the many other warriors aboard the Dome ship.>
<Elfangor was the greatest,> I said. <My family doesn’t know he’s dead. I would like you to connect me with them. I could get interrupted any minute.>
<I will do that. As soon as your family is found, I will connect you. But first, give me your report, aristh Aximili.>
I tried to quickly organize my thoughts. <The Yeerks are here in force. There is at least one mother ship. Also one Blade ship belonging to Visser Three, and numerous Bug fighters. The humans are unaware of the invasion. I do not know how many humans have been made into Controllers, but there must be thousands, at least.>
I took a deep breath, and tried to hold on to my concentration. How much should I tell Ithileran?
<Then Earth is lost to the Yeerks?>
<No!> I said sharply. <Earth is not lost. There is a small resistance. A few humans. Young . . . arisths, like me. I fight alongside them.>
<But surely there is no hope of victory?>
<We have hurt the Yeerks,> I said. <We have destroyed the Kandrona that was in place on this planet.>
That got Ithileran’s attention. That definitely got his attention. <You destroyed a Yeerk Kandrona? How did you manage that? You and a handful of human youths?>
It was time to tell him the full truth, or decide to lie.
<The humans . . . the humans
have the power to morph,> I said. <Visser Three believes they are a small band of escaped Andalites. Earth has many strange animals, and with the morphing we use those species to attack the Yeerks.>
<Humans who morph? And how did humans come by this technology?>
<It was given to them. By Elfangor.>
Ithileran looked startled. His eyes darted to the side and then he abruptly disappeared from the screen. In his place stood another Andalite.
I was stunned. I instantly recognized the face.
He was very old, and yet his power seemed to vibrate through the screen, across all the light-years that separated Earth from home.
Lirem-Arrepoth-Terrouss.
Head of the Council. Veteran of more battles than I could count. His appearance on the screen would have made me lose concentration, but I was too awed to dare.
<You know who I am?>
<Yes. Yes, um. Yes. Yes, I know you. I mean, I don’t know you, but I know who you are.>
<Um, well . . . the humans were helpless. Our force had been destroyed. There was nothing to stand between the humans and total domination by the Yeerks. They needed some weapon.>
Lirem stared at me with a gaze that was known to make great princes tremble.
<And how have you come to contact us? This is a Z-Space transmission.>
<I . . . I . . . I made some modifications to a primitive human device.>
<So, you also break the law. You also transfer technology to the humans.>
<The humans are not our enemies!> I said. I surprised myself by practically yelling. <They won’t have a chance. These few humans are all that resist the Yeerks on this planet. Elfangor knew that. He did what he thought was right!>
To my surprise, Lirem did not tell me to be silent. But his eyes grew darker, his expression more serious than ever. Then he said, <Aristh Aximili, once before an Andalite did what he thought was the right thing. He transferred technology to a weak, backward species. He did it because he thought they should be able to travel to the stars. Do you know the name of that Andalite?>
<Prince Seerow,> I said.
<Prince Seerow. Yes. He was my first prince. Did you know that? Many centuries ago when I was an aristh like you.> Lirem looked hard at me. <Do you know what happened because of Seerow’s Kindness?>
<Yes,> I said grimly. <Yes, I know. I have seen what happened because of Seerow’s Kindness.>
For a moment no one spoke.
Then Lirem said, <Young Aximili, your brother, Elfangor, was a hero. The people need heroes in this endless war. I do not wish to tell the people that in the end, Elfangor broke the laws. There can be no forgiveness for a prince who breaks the laws. Unlike an aristh. So . . . I ask you to think again. Was it truly Elfangor who gave this technology to the humans?>
I couldn’t believe what Lirem wanted me to say. He wanted me to lie. He wanted me to clear Elfangor.
<I . . . I was wrong when I said Elfangor did this,> I said, too shocked to argue. <It was . . . it was me. I gave the humans the morphing technology.>
Lirem continued. <Cut off from your prince, alone, not yet trained, not yet a true warrior, you broke the laws, aristh Aximili. Is this true?>
<Yes,> I whispered bitterly.
<In the name of the council, I forgive your error,> Lirem said. <What’s done is done. Perhaps . . . in some way I am too old to see, this may all work out for the best.>
<Yes,> I said blankly. Why had I done this? Why had I communicated with my home?
<Aristh Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, you have done a brave thing, taking on this guilt. I know the temptation to go beyond the law when helping a brave people fight the Yeerks. I was an advisor to the Hork-Bajir. They were our allies, but they were not Andalites. They were not our people.>
<But . . .> I knew I should shut up. But part of me was getting angry. <But the Hork-Bajir ended up losing everything.>
Lirem’s eyes were cold. <You are an Andalite. You are not a human. Obey our laws. I am giving you an order: Resist the Yeerks. But give the humans no information and no technology. Do you understand my order, aristh Aximili?>
<Yes.>
<The fleet is engaged in many parts of the galaxy. We are doing well against the Yeerks. But it will be some time before we can come to Earth. Fight the Yeerks. If you are half the hero your brother was, you will bring honor on your family.>
From what seemed like far away, I heard a faint voice in my head. <Ax —— on the move. —— guy. Think he ——.>
But at that very moment, Lirem said, <Aximili, we have your father. He would like to speak to you.>
Ax — you hear? — there’s —>
<Aximili-kala,> my father said. It was his nickname for me.
I couldn’t believe it was really him. <Yes, Father. It’s me. It’s me, Aximili. I’m on Earth. I don’t know how long I can talk, not long.>
<Is your brother there?>
It came so quickly, the question I dreaded. I almost lost the contact. I desperately wanted to see my father’s face and listen to his words. But at the same time, I did not want to tell him that his oldest son was gone.
And there was another thing I did not want to tell him.
<Elfangor,> my father said. <Is he . . .>
<Father. Elfangor is . . . he was killed.> My father looked like someone had punched him. He rocked back.
I looked away. I had tried so hard not to think about Elfangor being gone. Somehow it wasn’t real till this moment. Seeing my father’s pain made me feel my own.
<Did he die well?> my father asked. The question is part of the ritual of death. It was the question he had to ask.
<He died in the service of his people, defending freedom,> I said. This also was part of the ritual.
My father nodded. <And has his death been avenged?>
This was the part I had feared. <No, Father.>
My father looked up at me. <You are now the eldest son. The burden of revenge is on you. Do you know his killer?>
<Yes.>
<And does his killer still live?>
<Yes.>
<And do you, Aximili, take up the burden of avenging your brother’s death?>
<Yes.>
The ritual was complete. We had both said all the things we were supposed to say.
<I am so relieved to see that you are still well,> my father said.
<Yes. I . . . I wanted to see you,> I said. <I couldn’t —>
The connection was broken. Instantly, totally. I was staring at a blank screen.
“Sorry, but you were breaking my heart,” a human voice sneered. “I had to cut you off.”
I spun around. A human! He was thirty feet away.
And he was holding a weapon, pointing it at me.
Only slowly did I realize that it was no human gun. The weapon in his hand was a Dracon beam. Standard Yeerk issue.
“You and I have a lot to talk about, Andalite. Quite a lot.”
I was frozen. I could not move. The Human-Controller was too far away for me to hit with my tail.
“Don’t try it, Andalite,” he sneered. “I’ll fry you before you can even twitch that tail of yours.”
But then . . .
“Tseeeeeeeeeerrr!”
Tobias dived from the top of the dome at full speed, wings swept back, talons raked forward. He aimed for the man’s face.
The man threw up his arm. Talons raked the bare flesh of his forearm, leaving red slashes behind. But the man had held on to the Dracon beam. Tobias flew past. Shreds of the human’s shirt hung from his talons.
I leaped forward. Too late!
“Freeze! I don’t want to kill either of you, Andalites, but I will if I have to!” the man snapped. Tobias swooped away to perch on the huge telescope itself.
“I just want to talk,” the Human-Controller said.
<You’re the one holding the Dracon beam,> I pointed out.
Then, he did something that amazed me. He knelt down and placed the Dracon beam on the floor. He kicked it aside. The weapon went skittering across the polished floor.
“Now I’m at your mercy, Andalite,” he said. “You can use that tail of yours. Or you can listen to what I have to say.”
With my stalk eyes I glanced up and saw Tobias.
<It’s up to you, Ax,> Tobias said. <This is your party.>
<Speak, then,> I said to the Human-Controller.
“My name is Gary Kozlar,” he said.
<Don’t waste my time,> I snapped, trying to sound strong and unafraid. <That’s a human name. That’s the name of your host body. But I know what you really are.>
He nodded. “All right. My name is Eslin Three-Five-Nine. And you are Aximili, a young Andalite warrior-cadet. Brother of Beast Elfangor. You see, I heard the last few minutes of your touching conversation.”
<Beast Elfangor? So that is the Yeerk name for my brother?>
“Your brother is dead,” Eslin snapped. “And so is the one creature in all the galaxy that I cared about. Her name was Derane Three-Four-Four. And do you know what they have in common, your brother and my Derane?”
<No. What does my brother have in common with a Yeerk?>
Eslin’s human face twisted into an expression of rage. “They were both killed by the same being.”
<Visser Three?>
“As I said, you and I have a lot in common, Andalite.” He struggled to gain control over his human face, but his jaw was twitching as he explained. “You Andalite bandits did a lot of damage by destroying the Kandrona. There is widespread starvation. The most important Yeerks, those in vital positions, or those whom the Visser happens to favor, are being shuttled back and forth to the mother ship every three days. They get a minimal dose of Kandrona rays. Enough to keep them alive.”
<Do you expect me to feel bad?> I asked.
“No, I expect the usual Andalite self-righteousness and hypocrisy from you,” Eslin spat. “Andalites. The meddlers of the galaxy.”