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3 Look for other
titles by K.A. Applegate:
#7 The Invasion
#2 The Visitor
#3 The Encounter
#4 The Message
#5 The Predator
#6 The Capture
#7 The Stranger
#8 The Alien
#9 The Secret
#10 The Android
#11 The Forgotten
#12 The Reaction
#13 The Change
«MEGAMORPHS» #1 The Andalite's Gift
THE ANDALITE CHRONICLES
#1 Elfangor's Journey
4 ^,.--^ Alloran's Choice
andalite
chronicles
K.A. Applegate
AN APPLE
PAPERBACK
SCHOLASTIC INC. New York Toronto London Auckland Sydney
5 If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
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ISBN 0-590-10880-8
Copyright ©1997 by Katherine Applegate. All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. APPLE PAPERBACKS and the APPLE PAPERBACKS logo are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc. ANIMORPHS and the ANIMORPHS logo are trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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Printed in the U.S.A. First Scholastic printing, October 1997
6 My name is Elfangor.
I am an Andalite prince. And I am about to die.
My fighter is damaged. I have crash-landed on the surface of the planet called Earth. I believe that my great Dome ship has been destroyed. I fear that my little brother Aximili is already dead.
We did not expect the Yeerks to be here in such force. We made a mistake. We underestimated the Yeerks. Not for the first time. We would have defeated their Pool ship and its fighters. But there was a Blade ship in orbit as well.
The Blade ship of Visser Three.
Two Yeerk Bug fighters are landing on either side of me now. The abomination Visser Three is here as well. I can feel him. I can sense his evil.
I cannot defeat the Visser in one-on-one combat. I am weak from my injuries. Too weak to morph. Too weak to fight.
This is my hirac detest - my final statement. I have formed the mental link to the thought-speak transponder in my fighter's computer. I will record
VII
7 my memories before the Yeerks annihilate all trace of me.
If this message someday reaches the Andalite world, I want the truth to be known. I am called a great warrior. A hero. But there is a great deal that no Andalite knows about me. I have not lied, but I have kept the truth a secret.
This is not my first visit to Earth. I spent many years on Earth ... and yet, no time at all.
I landed here now in this construction site because I was looking for a great weapon: the Time Matrix. The existence of this weapon is also a secret.
So many secrets in my life . . . mistakes. Things I should have done. All the strands of my strange life seem to be coming together. It all seems inevitable now. Of course my death would come on Earth. Of course the child would be here. Of course it would be Visser Three who would take my life.
I am too weak to locate the Time ship now. I will die here. But I have left a legacy. Visser Three thinks he has won our long, private war. But I've left a little surprise behind.
I have given the morphing power to five human youths.
I know that in doing this I have broken Andalite law. I know that this action will be condemned by all my people. But the Yeerks are here on Earth. Visser Three is here. The humans must be given a chance
8 to resist. The human race cannot fall to the Yeerks the way the Hork-Bajir race did.
I have given the morphing power to five young humans. Children, really. But sometimes children can accomplish amazing things.
I have no choice but to hope. Because it was I who created Visser Three. I who caused the abomination. I cannot go peacefully to my death, knowing that I created the creature who will enslave the human race.
I came to this place, this empty construction site, looking for the weapon I know is hidden here. But there is no time now. No time . . .
The Visser is here. He is laughing at my weakness. He is savoring his victory over me.
This is the hirac delest of Elfangor-Sirinial-Sham-tul, Andalite prince. I open my mind in the ritual of death. I open my mind and let all my memories - all my secrets - go to be recorded by the computer.
This is not just a message to my own people. I hope that someday humans will read it as well. Because humans are also my people. Loren . . . and the boy I have just met, but not for the first time. . . .
IX
9 Alloran's Choice
1 It was an impossible situation.
I was alone. Alone on an alien planet. Scared, sick at hearts, and overwhelmed.
I flew high above the scene, floating on my six pairs of wings. I was in morph. A four-legged, two-armed Andalite transformed into a twelve-winged kafit bird.
Below me was the horizon-to-horizon expanse of the spaceport on the Taxxon home world. Huge, weirdly shaped metal cradles nestled a stunning array of spacecraft. Craft from every corner of the ever-expanding Yeerk Empire: transports and fighters and even a vast Yeerk Pool ship, sitting like a bloated, three-legged spider.
Half a mile to my left was the Skrit Na transport we had chased to the Taxxon world. Inside that ship, unknown to the Yeerks, was the Time Matrix.
Half a mile to my right was the Yeerk transport ship we had seized in orbit. It was loaded to the brim with Yeerks in their natural sluglike bodies. Big,
2 round tubs of Yeerk slugs. Yeerks I had saved when Alloran ordered them destroyed.
And right below me was the Jahar. She was like a work of art stuck in a junk pile. She glowed, beautiful amidst the clumsy Yeerk vessels.
And there, stepping from the Jahar, were the two odd creatures called humans.
The one called Chapman shoved a helpless, bound Loren. She fell before the feet of Sub-Visser Seven, the Yeerk in charge of security. The sub-visser was a Hork-Bajir-Controller.
"That's what I have to trade," Chapman said. "A whole planet full of... that"
A hundred Yeerks in different forms - huge, glistening, wormlike Taxxon-Controllers, dangerous, bladed Hork-Bajir-Controllers, clumsy Gedd-Controllers - all stood watching with bated breath.
Where was Arbron, my fellow aristhl Where was War-prince Alloran? The last I'd seen of them they were in Taxxon morph. But the two-hour time limit for staying in one morph had passed. I could only hope they had demorphed at some point.
«Alloran should be dealing with all this,» I complained bitterly to no one. Alloran was the war-prince. He'd been in wars before. He had fought in the Hork-Bajir war. I didn't know anything! I was a nobody!
3 Okay, Elfangor, calm down a
nd think.
But how could I be calm? The Yeerks were seizing Loren and roughly hustling her away. Chapman was trying to communicate with Sub-Visser Seven.
Then it hit me: Chapman knew! He knew about the Time Matrix! If he found a way to tell the Yeerks, we were all done for.
Okay, okay, so I had to do something. Something. Something. But what? What should I do? This was madness! The entire fate of my people rested on me? On me?
Priorities. Okay, okay, what was most important?
Rescuing Loren.
No. No, that was absurd. The Time Matrix. Everything came down to the Time Matrix.
Was Chapman going to tell the sub-visser about it? No. It was Chapman's biggest bargaining chip. This human was like a Skrit Na - self-serving, greedy, and very, very strange. The Skrit Na are made up of two races. The Skrit look like huge insects and are somewhat less than intelligent. But the Skrit each eventually weave a cocoon and a year later, out pops a Na. The Na stand on four slender legs, have heads shaped like Andalites, but only possess two eyes. All the Skrit Na care about is owning and possessing things. And it seemed the human Chapman was the very same way. So I truly
4 I had time, but not much. The sub-visser would be kept busy with Chapman attempting to talk about Earth. Like any Yeerk, Sub-Visser Seven would be fascinated by the possibility of an entire planet of sentient creatures for the Yeerk Empire to enslave.
Think, Elfangor. Think!
I couldn't count on finding Alloran and Arbron. But if they were still alive and free, they would reach the same conclusion I had: Go for the Skrit Na ship and its cargo, the Time Matrix.
I turned in the air and flapped my many wings hard as I headed toward the Skrit Na ship.
Below I saw Hork-Bajir grab Loren and pull her to her feet. They yanked her up by her golden hair and a human cry of pain floated up to me.
Priorities, Elfangor.
«Loren. It's me, Elfangor!» I called down, focusing my thought-speak on her alone.
I saw her jerk and turn her head around the way humans do to see behind them.
«Stop. Don't move! Don't make them mad. Don't worry, I'm using private thought-speak. No one else can hear»
She stopped twisting around and kept marching forward between her Hork-Bajir captors.
«Tell the Yeerks whatever they want to know. Don't resist. Just one thing: Don't mention the Time
5 Matrix. If they get that, it's all over. You have to trust me. I will save you.»
Of course, the human Loren couldn't answer. Humans don't have thought-speak. Like most species, they make sounds to communicate. I could only hope she would trust me.
Right. She should trust me. Would I trust some alien who'd landed me in this mess?
I could only hope. She had to keep quiet about the Time Matrix. I knew Chapman would.
I flew hard for the Skrit Na ship. At least I had a goal now. That helped. A little. And I just wouldn't think about the insanity of it all. I would just put all that out of my head.
The Skrit Na ship was being fussed over by Gedd-Controllers. Gedds are clumsy, loping creatures. They were the first species the Yeerks infested. Only low-ranking Yeerks were still stuck in Gedd bodies. These Gedd-Controllers seemed to be busy checking the Skrit Na ship for hull damage.
I had to get aboard that ship. And I had to fly it off the planet.
No problem, Elfangor. Just steal the ship from the middle of a Yeerk spaceport and fly it away without getting zapped. No big deal.
landed in the dirt beneath the ship's cradle. It was dark and filthy down there. Endless debris and trash had been shoved in over the years. They had
6 apparently even emptied ships' sewage reprocessing plants there. The smell was overwhelming.
I demorphed amid the fossilized remains of sewage from a dozen species. Not pleasant. But it was a good feeling to get my Andalite body back.
I cowered behind the massive support pillars as I watched my four legs grow from four of the kafit's wings. Two other wings became my hands. My sleek bird head grew large and sprouted my twin stalk eyes, while the bird's own two eyes became my main eyes.
The remaining wings shriveled and disappeared as my long, wispy bird tail became my swift, powerful Andalite tail.
I was so pleased to get my tail back. A bird's body can be pretty helpless. But unfortunately, I couldn't stay in Andalite form. An Andalite walking around on the Taxxon world, surrounded by nothing but various types of Yeerks, would be just slightly obvious. Slightly obvious, as in I'd have been dead ten seconds after I walked out of the shadows.
I had only one way to go. I would have to resume the Taxxon morph I had acquired. The Taxxon DNA was still a part of me. It always would be.
I swallowed my fear and loathing and began the morph.
And as I felt the huge worm body grow, and felt the screaming, desperate Taxxon hunger rise within
7 I swallowed my fear and loathing and began the morph.
And as I felt the huge worm body grow, and felt the screaming, desperate Taxxon hunger rise within me, I tried to form a plan. A plan to save my world, my friends, and Loren all at once.
I was halfway into Taxxon shape when I heard the shuffling, slithering sound of a Taxxon. My stalk eyes had already morphed away. But I still had my main eyes. I turned to look.
It was just a dozen feet away. It must have been lurking in the darkness. It had only to scream for help and I'd be Taxxon lunch.
Then, to my surprise, the Taxxon spoke in An-dalite thought-speak.
«Elfangor! Is that you?»
«Arbron?» I cried. I was flooded with relief. I wouldn't be alone! I had Arbron with me. We'd never exactly been close friends, but at least he was one of my own.
«Yes, it's me,» he said.
«What happened to you?» I asked. «f lost you and Alloran in that terrible feeding frenzy.»
For a few moments Arbron said nothing. His silence drew a chill up my half-morphed body.
«l guess we got separated,» Arbron said flatly. «So. We gonna rescue this Time Matrix thing or what? Hero time, huh?»
8 «l don't know. I lost him in the crowd. Just you and me, I guess. Come on. Let's do it. Let's save the world, hah-hah! Just what you planned, eh, Elfan-gor? Elfangor the hero?»
He seemed to alternate between being flat and emotionless and sudden bursts of manic energy. Maybe it was the strain. The fear. And the vile creepiness of inhabiting a Taxxon form.
That had to be it. Nothing to worry about. Just stress.
«lf I end up being a hero, you'll be one, too,» I said. «Besides, let's just see if we survive first»
«Yeah. Survive,» he said, flat and emotionless again. «Come on, Elfangor. Finish morphing.»
9 «You have a plan?»
«Surer» I said. «We bluff. We tell those Gedd-Controllers up there that we've come to fix the computers. Then we fly that sorry Skrit Na ship away.»
I wanted to sound casual. Nonchalant. The way the fighter pilots always sound when they are describing some terrifying battle. Like it was all no big deal.
Arbron stared at me through red jelly Taxxon eyes. «Okay. Lead the way,» he said.
Arbron and I slithered out from beneath the ship's cradle and motored our rows of Taxxon needle legs up the ramp to the ship itself. Just a pair of bored Taxxon technicians going to work. Totally calm.
Or as calm as any Taxxon, even a Taxxon-Controller, can ever be. There is simply no way to explain the awful hunger of the Taxxon. It is beyond any hunger you've ever imagined. It is constant.
10 Like a screaming voice in your head. Screaming so loud you can't think.
Every living thing you see or smell is just meat to you. You hear beating hearts and smell rushing blood and the hunger almost takes over your body.
And when someone is injured . . . when there is blood spilled ... well then, as I knew personally, the hunger is all but impossible to resist.
I had come within a haunch hair of eating an injured Taxxon mysel
f. Not something I wanted to remember. But not something I'd ever forget.
«Don't hesitate,» I advised Arbron as several Gedds turned to blink curiously at us. «Look like you're on your way to work.»
«Shut up, Elfangor,» Arbron said harshly.
Again I felt the chill of fear. Something was horribly wrong. But there was no stopping now. I pushed rudely past a Gedd who was in my way.
The Gedd-Controllers looked resentful. But they had no reason to suspect us. We were Taxxons. They had to assume we were Taxxon-Controllers. We looked like we were there to work. No reason for them to be at all suspicious.
Except that one of them was.
One of the Gedd-Controllers stood right in front of us, seemingly unimpressed. He spoke in Galard, the language of interstellar trade. It sounded hard on his Gedd tongue, but I could understand him.
11 "Rrr-what arrrre you doing herrrrrre?"
If it was hard for the Gedd to make Galard sounds, it was almost impossible for me, with a Taxxon's mouth and tongue. But I couldn't use thought-speak. I might as well announce that I was Andalite. I had to try to speak Galard with a three-foot-long Taxxon tongue.
So I tried. "Sreeeee snwwweeeyiiir sreeeyah!"
Which was not even close to being the sounds I'd wanted to make. What I had meant to say was "computer repair." But the Taxxon's tongue is so long, that it would be hard even if I was used to using a mouth to make sounds.
The Gedd stared at me with its tiny yellow eyes. "Rrr-use rrr pad!" He pointed furiously down at a small computer pad attached to his wrist.
«lt's some kind of translator^ Arbron said. «Some primitive version of our own translator chips. Let me do it»
He reached with one of his weak, two-fingered Taxxon hands and pressed several buttons. From the pad came a disembodied voice, speaking Galard.
"Computer repair."
The Gedd snorted angrily. "Rrryou Taxxon wearrrers think you rrrown the planet! Arrrogant as Horrrk-Bajir!"
Arbron and I shoved past him into the Skrit Na
12 ship. Unfortunately, it was so cramped and low that we could barely drag our massive bodies inside.
The bridge of the Skrit Na ship was identical to the Skrit Na ship we'd boarded to rescue the two humans. There were two cocooned Skrit glued into a corner. They wouldn't cause any trouble. They didn't look ready to hatch into Na just yet. And there was an active Skrit, what Loren had described as a giant cockroach, scurrying around almost brain-lessly, polishing and cleaning.
Applegate, K A - Andalite Chronicles 02 - Alloran's Choice Page 1
