Chapter Three
(Tell me where they are Hork-Bajir!) The thought speak sent shivers down the cowering Hork-Bajir. Though this was no normal Hork-Bajir, no normal Controller.
The difference was freedom. This lucky monster was a free Hork-Bajir; in essence there was a Yeerk out there who couldn’t see because of this Hork-Bajir.
Visser One hated the rebels. He hated the Andalites, he hated the free Hork-Bajir and he hated those pesky Peace Movement Yeerks, Their time will come, he thought to himself.
“Free or die!” The Hork-Bajir bellowed, “Free or Die! Free or–“
(Listen to me, you annoying lizard!) Visser One snapped. The Hork-Bajir snapped his beak shut and recoiled. The visser forced himself to remain calm, (I can help you. I don’t want to hurt your people. We just need them; we only want to help them. Show them Mother Sky. You want that don’t you, Hork-Bajir?)
The Hork-Bajir, whose name was Gal Sheerak, looked confused, “But…Mother Sky doesn’t want children sad. You make us sad.”
(Oh no!) Visser One cried, he put on a mask of sweetness, of friendship, (We’ve never wanted to hurt you! To make you sad, we want you to be happy; with us we look after you. We feed you. Care for you if you’re sick. We are your family. Help us.)
Gal now looked even more lost. He seemed to think tings over and came to a conclusion, “Gal good Hork-Bajir, Gal help family. Gal help – help you.”
Visser One smiled and lent forwards, (Good, Hork-Bajir. Now we are going to take you to go and get a new – how shall I put it? Friend. Then you’ll show us were the others are. Once we have them back with us our family will be much better won’t it?)
Gal was silent and merely nodded. He didn’t even grunt as the Hork-Bajir guards came and led him out of the pool towards his slavery.
The visser looked on in satisfaction, (See Alloran? One big happy family.)
(You are sick, you know that? Very, very sick,) Alloran replied bitterly.
(And yet you find yourself wanting – clinging – onto my words? No, Alloran, you are sick. I am the healer.)
---
The forest was thick with trees and bushes. Light filtered through the leaves and fell dappled onto the ground. It was beautiful. Maybe not to a creature who saw it everyday, who merely expected it to always be there, but to a Yeerk, even to a visser, it was glorious, magnificent, something to be admired above all else.
Though often beauty is a hindrance, the trees stopped any use of Bug fighters. And thanks to good old Gal Sheerak the visser knew the valley would also be of nuisance when it came to aerial support.
This battle would be ground based and bloody. No clean sweeps from orbit but a close up and personal attack. Easy, simple, nothing to it at all. You’ve dealt with Hork-Bajir before. Not a problem.
(Uh-huh, what about the Andalites? You know they will be there. I can feel your fear, Visser.)
(SHUT UP!)
The troops surrounding their visser jumped and stopped all movement. Even breathing was halted. They all looked at each other through the corners of their eyes, not daring to turn their varied heads.
Esplin pawed at the leaf laden ground angrily and set off, he hated Alloran. Loathed him. But it was Alloran who made him who, what he was. He needed Alloran. With a grunt he set off again through the forest aware that his troops now gave him curious glances.
Backstabbers. He thought. With a cocky arrogance he turned a stalk eye to survey his troops. There were Hork-Bajir, Taxxons and few humans. Though more than enough to wipe out a few annoying Hork-Bajir.
Gal was up ahead leading the massed army, well not really Gal. The Yeerk’s name was Shran 183, a loyal under-visser. Eslpin was please to hear that Gal had been to trouble to control, after all, why would he harm his family?
Visser One sniggered at the thought. A Hork-Bajir was no brother of Visser One’s. Stupid animal.
It was twilight now and they were drawing near their target. Dead, all dead, like my Edriss.
A shadow fell over some blue bands not far away. He followed their gaze up and saw a hawk, the sun shone through its tail feathers making them a deep russet. Esplin knew this type of hawk all too well. A red-tailed hawk, humans called t. A monster was a better name Visser One decided.
A murderer. Evil.
(I’m coming, little bird,) he called up to it; (I’m coming so you’d better hide.)
If the bird heard or understood him he didn’t know. It banked a left and headed away. Visser One noticed his troops ahead had stopped. (Come on!) He cried, (Those Hork-Bajir are denying our brothers and sisters the right to se, to feel, to understand our universe. Is it right that those animals should have what we Yeerks do not? No! We fight for our brothers, we fight for our freedom.)
The speech had a very starting affect on those gathered; the Taxxons reared and hissed their approval, the Hork-Bajir raised their clawed fists into the air and cried, “For the Visser!”
No genius maybe, but Visser One knew how to control.
---
(Shran? You will take fifty of the Hork-Bajir into the valley and tell me what you find there. No point in risking the rest of the battalion.)
Shran nodded ‘his’ head, “Yes, Visser.”
He saluted and led fifty waiting blue bands over the ridge. For a agonizing two minutes silence befell those waiting with their visser. A human sneezed and hundreds of eyes turned to glare at him.
“Sorry, Visser.”
(Do not do it again.) same visser snapped.
A crackling issued from Visser Ones communicator, a voice followed, “All gone, Visser.”
For a moment Esplin couldn’t even register the idea. No battle? No killing? What?
“GhaaaaaLhaaaaa!”
(What in the name of Dapsen!)
Screams started to flow over the opening to the valley. Hork-Bajir screams, animal cries. Evidently the rebels were not “All gone”.
(Back up!) Visser One called into the communicator, (Those of you Blue Bands in there back up! Come home, you’re done. Let me come and show you how it’s done.)
Even as he spoke he morphed. At last he became a creature from myth, a monster with eight serpentine heads, huge, thick legs that resembled the tress around him.
When he no longer showed any signs of Andalite he moved forwards with a silence unfitting such a huge creature. Behind him marched an army of Taxxons. Not out of loyalty but from hunger.
The visser meant death and death meant food.
Through the jumbled bodies of Hork-Bajir he saw him. The visage of true hatred, a cold blooded killer. His form was the same as always, orange and black fur rippled across the feline body. A tiger. The enemy.
Evil.
(You are outnumbered! Surrender at once. Or die!)
The tiger did not surrender. Instead he froze. Coward! His eyes darted looking around at the battle. The visser followed his gaze.
Free Hork-Bajir screamed and plunged into battle with their ‘hosted’ brothers. Loyal troops stopped running and fired their Dracons at any rebel. Taxxons, the vile worms they were, flowed down rushing at the enemy, devouring anything in their path.
It was chaos.
It was home.
OWWWW! The hawk had dived at the visser while he was shooting fireballs at the enemy. HAH-HAH! With a screech the hawk went hurting through the air as a tentacle collided with him.
Fire! Fire! Fire! Hork-Bajir after Hork-Bajir fell burning and crying. Fireballs burnt away their flesh, living steak. Heh.
There he was! The tiger! Bounding towards the visser! He leaped and sunk his jaws into one of the vissers necks.
(You’re pitiful,) he sneered, (You will die!)
The tiger bit harder and the visser twisted and turned. The more he fought the harder the tiger clung on. It was infuriating! At last! The tiger fell lose onto the ground.
Before the murderer could even think of standing the visser pinned him down. All the vissers fellow Yeerks who died because of this – this monster flooded his mind. Finally he would pay. Justice was Esplin’s.
(At last.)
The tiger was dying, Visser One could see it – could feel it. Satisfaction swelled up within him, For Edriss. Suddenly. . .
WATER!
(Arrrggghhhh! I HATE WATER! AAAAAHHHHHHH!)
A swirling, rushing torrent of water knocked the visser off his ‘feet’. He had lost the tiger! NO! Swearing and raging the visser saw smacked into trees and rocks. Unable to control his own body he was swept away from the battle. Dozens of Blue Bands died. Hundreds of his ‘brothers and sisters’.
(No,) he moaned, (They will pay! If it takes my own life those filth will pay!)
Alloran sniggered, (Never mind your life, I’d be more worried about your sanity.)
For once Visser One could say nothing.