The Andalite-Yeerk Peace and Cooperation Center. That's what it was called. And now it was beginning to bristle with shredder cannon.
I turned my stalk eyes toward the Yeerk pool. The Yeerks called it Sulp Niar. It looked like molten lead.
I had come to the Yeerk planet with my mother and father. It was all part of showing the Yeerks that we were sincere in our desire for peace and friendship.
But I had never liked this planet. I had never liked the Yeerks. And now they had destroyed my father's dreams.
Seerow's Kindness.
My father's love of peace had released the evil of war on an unprepared galaxy.
10 Andalite date: year 8563.5
Yeerk date: Generation 686, early-cycle
Hork-Bajir date: late-cool
Earth date: 1968
ALDREA
I am the daughter of Prince Seerow. My friends tease me sometimes. They call me "Seerow's Un-kindness."
You see, I'm not like most females. I'm not content to stay within the sciences and the arts, the traditional female occupations. I don't want to be a Zero-space theorist or a grass-scape designer or a cloud artist.
I want to be a warrior. I want to fight the Yeerks.
I know what everyone says: Females are not born to be warriors. We have smaller tail blades. More like scalpels than like the great, curved scythes our brothers have.
But tail fighting isn't everything. Not in modern
11 war, which is fought with shredders and ionic-dispersion explosives launched from our most advanced ships. The war against the Yeerks won't be about tail fighting.
Besides, with the very recent invention of morph-ing technology, we can fight using any number of physical bodies. And, many studies have shown that females are actually superior when it comes to morphing.
No one listens. Not my own mother. Not even my father.
Of course, my father doesn't listen to much of anything anymore. He does whatever small, out-of-the-way, humiliating job he's given. He does what he's told.
Which was why we were just coming into orbit above an irrelevant planet no one cared about. It was an exile, sort of. My father was being sent where he could do no harm.
«Transparent,» I told the computer. The outer bulkhead in my cabin turned from blank gray to clear. Outside I could see black space blazing with stars. But filling half my view was the planet itself. Our new home.
For the most part it looked more like some dead moon than a living planet. Much of the surface was dark gray, sterile rock. I knew from our briefing that there was only a very thin atmosphere. It was cold.
12 Bitterly cold. With air so thin that an Andalite could expect to suffocate and die within thirty minutes.
But around the equator of the planet was a strange sight: huge, deep rifts, interwoven, interconnected. It looked as if someone had stepped on the planet, squashing it like a ripe ooka melon so that the sides had burst open.
In fact, that's exactly what had happened. Millions of years earlier, a massive asteroid had hit the planet's northern pole. The impact had shattered the crust, especially around the equator. It had opened massive valleys that cut deep, deep into the planet's surface.
Valleys with steep, rugged walls. The valleys were as much as fifty miles deep and held onto a rich nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere. The walls of the valleys were green. The floors of the valleys were a poisonous, eerie blue. Our sensors did not penetrate that blue mist.
As we slid across the night-day line into darkness, I could see that the blue glowed.
I stared down at the planet for a long time. Till finally someone sent my brother to get me. The door of my cabin trilled.
«Yes, come in,» I said. And to the computer, I added, «Opaque.» The wall turned flat gray again.
My brother stuck his upper body in. «What are you doing? Let's go! Didn't you hear the announce-
13 merit? The surface ship is waiting. Let's move it, let's move it!»
«l'm coming, Barafin, I'm coming,» I said heavily.
«Did you look at the planet?» Barafin asked. «Weird-looking, isn't it?»
«lt's an unusual place,» I agreed. «But I guess it will be okay. Mother and Father will take care of us. It won't be so bad.»
«All my friends are like two hundred light-years away,» Barafin said. «We'll be the only Andalites on the planet»
«We'll be okay,» I said.
«Yeah, I guess if this planet were dangerous they wouldn't have sent Father»
I should have told him to stop talking that way. But I didn't. He was right. Barafin barely speaks to my father. Barafin has taken a lot of teasing from the other kids at school. So have I. But I think it hurts Barafin more.
I said good-bye to the little cabin that had been my home for two months of travel from the An-dalite home world to this nowhere planet. I had already packed up my few personal belongings. My holo of our scoop back on the home world, the Pakka doll my mother had given me when I was a child, the wish-flower I'd kept from when we were hoping to have Barafin.
A sullen pilot flew us down to the surface. We
14 descended through the thin upper atmosphere, skimmed across the gray barrens, and then dropped down inside one of the massive impact valleys.
The view through the windows of the shuttle was amazing. One second we might as well have been skimming the surface of a very large asteroid. The next second we were surrounded by trees.
The size of the valley defied description. There was nothing even close on the home world or on the Yeerk world. The vegetation was sparse and scruffy toward the top of the valley, up where the air was thinnest. As we descended, mile after mile downward, the trees grew taller, the plants more lush. Pressing against the window to see straight downward, I saw that the lushness gave way to lurid, wild-colored plants nearer the poisonous blue bottom of the valley.
Down there, things grew fuzzy and indistinct as the atmosphere thickened to the point of becoming opaque.
We headed for a landing in a clearing in the trees. We were perhaps thirty miles below the lip of the valley. And another fifteen or twenty miles above the simmering, steaming blue.
I kept thinking we were almost down. But then I realized my whole perspective was distorted. The trees, which I'd expected to be normal-sized trees, were huge. The smallest must have been two hun-
15 dred feet tall. The largest were ten times that high. Two thousand feet tall! With trunks a hundred feet in diameter.
The valley walls were mostly very steep. Often the rising ground was no more than a few dozen yards away from the midpoint of one of the magnificent trees. Branches extended from the trunk over to the edge of the sloped ground. But in the other directions, out over the valley, the branches extended for insane distances.
«Serious trees,» Barafin commented.
«The largest trees ever discovered on any planet,» our mother said, her eyes bright. She's a biologist. For her this was great: a mostly unexplored planet full of unclassified plants and animals. I know she felt sorry for my father, but at the same time, this was like paradise to her.
We landed in the small clearing. No more than a thousand yards of grass, some of it almost level.
Four crew members began unloading our supplies and equipment. And I stepped out for the first time on the planet that was merely called Sector 5, RG-21578-4.
RG meant red giant. That was the type of sun at the center of this system. The dash-four meant this was the fourth planet from that sun.
«l thought there was a sentient species on this planet,» I said as we stepped gingerly out onto un-
15
^Hr"
16 tasted grass. «l didn't see any sign of them as we were coming down.»
«They aren't a city-building or road-building speciesr» my father said, trying to sound upbeat. «They are quite primitive, according to the data from the robot probes. Their appearance can be very fearsome, but they are harmless, gentle herbivores. Not especially bright, I'm afraid,» he
added. «No culture to speak of. No written language. No music, as far as we know. They don't build much, if anything. And they are technologically the equivalent of a primordial civilization.»
«So why are we here?» Barafin grumbled, rolling his stalk eyes upward to encompass the monstrous size of the closest tree.
«We are here to make contact with the population and make sure that the Yeerks are not moving against these people,» my father said.
Barafin laughed. «Why would the Yeerks be interested in this place?»
One of the crew members was standing nearby. «They wouldn't be,» he said. «No one's interested in this place.» He shot an openly insolent look at my father.
He might as well have added, «That's why Prince Seerow has been assigned here: because it's a meaningless planet where the fool will do no harm.»
17 My father ignored him. But I could see that the unspoken insult had reached him. His nostrils flared. His main eyes widened. For a moment I thought he might put the jerk in his place. But then, as I'd seen so often before, my father sagged, turned away, and accepted the humiliation.
«At least the grass tastes okay,» Barafin said, digging his hoof into the blue-green grass.
I looked around at the planet of trees. How those huge trees weighed me down. I felt the radical slope of the ground beneath my hooves. It made one feel as if one might fall over and never be able to stop rolling and rolling and rolling.
I thought it was an awful place, despite its oversized beauty. «What should we call this place?» I asked. «We can't keep calling it Sector Five, RG-Two-One-Five-Seven-Eight-Four.»
«We follow the usual practice of naming a planet after its sentient species,» my mother said.
«l've forgotten. What are these more-or-less sentient creatures?»
«They are called Hork-Bajir,» my father said. «This is the home world of the Hork-Bajir. Soon we will get a chance to meet one.»
I saw something moving, coming around the base of the closest tree.
«Very soon, I think.»
18 efoaptsr
DAK HAMTC
My name is Dak Hamee.
I am Hork-Bajir. But I am different. Not like others. I have known this since I was too small to strip any but the most tender bark.
My mother said to me, "Dak Hamee, you are strange."
She took me to see the elders in the Tribe Tree. They looked at me. They spoke to me.
"He is strange," Elder Mab Kahet said.
"Yes, he is strange," Elder Ponto Fallah said.
"He is a 'seer,'" Mab Kahet said. He was not happy. He was not sad. He was. . . disturbed.
"What is a 'seer'?" my mother asked.
The Old One, Tila Fashat, opened her toothless mouth and said, "A seer is one who is born to show a new way. Many, many seasons pass, then our father, the Deep, and our mother, the Sky, say, 'Send a seer to the people. The people have need.' And so one is born who is different."
19 "My son is different," my mother said heavily.
"Yes," the Old One said. "He is different."
I am Dak Hamee. I am different. I am the seer. I am to show my people a new way.
But I did not know the new way. The Old One said I would know when the Deep and the Sky told me. They would tell me what to do.
Until then, I had to wait. Sometimes I thought about things that no Hork-Bajir thinks about: What is really within the Deep? How high is the Sky?
Sometimes I would take a small piece of burned wood from the fire. I used it to make markings on the smooth wood where the bark had been stripped. I made markings that look like rocks. Or trees. Or like the Jubba-Jubba monster that lives in the Deep. Once I made markings that looked like my friend, Jagil Hullan.
"This is you, Jagil," I said.
"That is not me," Jagil said.
"Yes. See that the wrist blades are shaped like your wrist blades. See that the tail is like your tail. See that the horns are short, like your horns."
"That is not me," Jagil said. "I am me. I am here. I am not there. I am not a scraping by a burned stick."
I tried to explain. But Jagil did not understand.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was only being different again.
20 One day I was harvesting in the high branches of an old Siff tree. I stripped the bark with my leg blades, and held a branch with my hands. I looked up at Mother Sky. I wondered again how high she was.
But then, there was something different in the Sky. It was not the sun. It was not a moon. It was smaller. It was shiny. It was shaped like an egg, but with branches.
It was coming down from the Sky.
I knew that this was Mother Sky speaking to me. I knew that this different thing was sent to me. It was different. I am different.
I climbed down the tree to the ground. I walked toward the place I saw the Sky-thing going.
It was on the ground. And there were creatures.
Not any of the monsters of the Deep. Not any of the lizards or snakes of the Outside. They had four legs. One, two, three, four. They had a tail, but it was high, not dragging the ground. They had two arms. They had no blades, except one small blade on each of their tails. Their horns were very small. And they moved. And there were eyes on the ends of their horns.
They were not horns. Horns do not have eyes.
They had no mouths. They looked at me with four eyes.
21 I walked closer to see them. They did not move. They only watched.
"I am Dak Hamee," I said.
They did not speak. They only stared.
"I am Dak Hamee," I said again.
«l am Prince Seerow.»
The voice was in my head! It made no sound. But I heard it! It was strange. The words were not words of the Hork-Bajir. But I understood them.
"I am Dak Hamee," I said again.
«lt's a juvenile,» one of the creatures said. «Probably about equivalent in age to Aldrea or Barafin. Aldrea? Barafin? Maybe you should speak with him.»
«Not me!» a new voice said. «He's covered in blades!»
But one of the creatures stepped toward me. «My name is Aldrea,» she said. «We are Andalites. We would like to be your friends.»
Suddenly, I knew that my waiting was over. This was the new thing I had been created for. This was what I had to understand, so that I could show my people the way.
This was why Father Deep and Mother Sky had made me a seer.
22
DAK HAMOT
I did not stay with the four-legged strangers. I ran away. I went back to my mother. She took me to the elders.
The Old One said, "This is why Dak Hamee was born. This is why Father Deep and Mother Sky have sent us a seer. Dak Hamee must watch and speak. Then he must show us the way."
So I went back to the strangers.
There were only four now. The egg-shaped flying thing was gone. They had dug into the valley wall. It was not deep, but they had covered the scooped area with a cloth that hung in the air.
When the rain fell or Mother Sky made lightning, they stayed in this place. Other times they stood or ran on the grass. They had other things. Things without names that glowed like Father Deep. And things that made sounds in my head. And things that did nothing at all.
I went to them with Jagil. Jagil was afraid.
23 "We should not go there," he said.
"We should," I said. "I must watch and listen."
"We can climb a tree and watch."
" No. These creatures do not climb. They walk on the ground. So we must walk on the ground, too."
Jagil was afraid. But Jagil came with me. We went into the clearing. The strangers looked at us.
«Hello,» one said, making the sound that was only in my head.
"I am Dak Hamee," I said.
"lamJagilHullan."
«Not enough for the universal translators one of the strangers said. «We need more words before it can begin to translates
One of the strangers, the smaller one with the smaller tail blad
e, pointed at herself. «l am Aldrea. I am an Andalite. I spoke to you before. Do you re-member?»
«Tell you one thing,» the other smaller stranger said. «You don't want to have to fight these Hork-Bajir. Those blades look very serious.»
«They're peaceful, notviolent»
I didn't know what to say. It was confusing. "Welcome, Aldrea," I said. "Welcome, Andalite."
«Not exactly chatty, are they?»
The one called Aldrea came forward. With her hand she pointed at the closest tree. «Tree,» she said.
24 I understood her. Her words were in my head. But the words themselves were strange. I did not know these words. Still I understood their meaning.
"Tree. Stoola tree," I said, in my own words. The stranger called Aldrea nodded. She wanted to know more about the tree.
I knew about this tree. "The bark below the lowest branch is too old. Hard to eat. The bark above the lowest branch but before the mislit is good. But harvesting it is bad. This bark helps the Stoola tree to grow new Stoola trees. Only the bark above the mislit may be taken. This is the Truth given to us by the Old One."
«Got it,» one of the others said, translation is effective at sixty-four percent. Coming online now.»
«We can understand you now,» Aldrea said.
"I understand you."
«Yes, that's because thought-speak works with universal symbols as well as with specific words,» an older stranger said.
I looked at her. I was confused.
«My love, I think perhaps this is a case where we should allow the young ones to communicate. Aldrea seems better able to communicate with young Dak Hamee than you or I are. This young Hork-Bajir is not an official. I think this is an informal contact»
«Be careful, Aldrea. You, too, Barafin. Don't lose sight of the scoop.»
25 Aldrea came and stood closer. Barafin did, too. Jagil was nervous. He wanted to run away. But if I did not run, Jagil would not run.
"Where is your Tribe Tree?" I asked Aldrea.
«Not here,» she said. «On another planet»
I nodded. "Yes. Not here. What is another planet?"
«Do you see the stars at night?» she asked me.
"When Mother Sky is dark, she shows us her flowers."
Applegate, K A - Andalite Chronicles 00 - The Hork-Bajir Chronicles Page 2
