80 Chapman carried the cage into the construction site. I could see the ground go by beneath me.
I could see through the bars all the half-built cinderblock buildings. I could see the very spot where the five of us had cowered in terror while Visser Three had morphed into a monster and swallowed the Andalite prince.
The Andalite's last despairing cry came back to me. He had lost his fight. Now I was losing mine.
Maybe there was no hope. Maybe we were fools to even try and resist the Yeerks.
"Get out of here, Jake." I said.
"Okay, Rachel. Here I go. Look ... be strong, Rachel. "
"Yeah, Jake. You too. "
"Jumping . . ."
A few seconds later, Chapman put me down on the ground. He waited beside the cage. The two of us stared off into the darkness.
I decided to make sure Jake was gone. "Jake? Jake?"
No answer.
"Jake, answer me. I've changed my mind. I want you to stay with me. " If he had lied to me, he would answer now.
"Come on, Jake, I've changed my mind. I need you. "
No answer. He was truly gone. That fact filled me with grim satisfaction. If Jake and the others survived, there would still be some hope.
But the feeling of loneliness was awful.
Then I heard the sound of something large, moving swiftly in the air. I pressed my head against the door and looked up. Three craft were descending toward the construction site.
Two of them were smaller, about the size of one of those recreational vehicles, maybe a little larger. They had a cowled, insectlike look. They looked like beetles with twin long, serrated spears pointed forward on each side. The Andalite had called them Bug fighters.
The third craft was much larger, shaped like an angular battle-ax. It was black on black, sharp, and deadly looking. As it sank slowly to ward us I felt my fear grow.
It was not the cat that was afraid. It was me, the human. The cat didn't know what this ship was. I did. I had seen it before. The Andalite had called it a Blade ship.
It was the personal ship of Visser Three. And terror seemed to flow from it. I could smell the fear sweat on Chapman.
81 I guess I was glad he was scared, too. Maybe Visser Three would become the Vanarx and suck the Chapman Yeerk out of Chapman's head. Maybe the true Chapman would experience a few seconds of freedom before he was killed. Maybe the Chapman Yeerk would suffer before Visser Three finished him off.
Maybe.
Fear is like a worm inside you. It eats you. It chews your guts. It bores holes in your heart. It makes you feel hollow. Empty. Alone.
Fear.
The Blade ship landed between two half- finished buildings. The Bug fighters came to rest on either side. They looked so strange, parked between the yellow-painted earthmovers and graders in the construction site.
The earthmovers looked like toys. The alien craft looked like deadly weapons.
I was afraid. I tried to borrow the cat's courage, his indifference. But then the door of the Blade ship opened. I had no courage.
Only fear.
82 Chapter Seventeen
Visser Three in person is worse than Visser Three as a hologram. There's nothing horrible about him. Not when he's in his normal Andalite body, at least. Andalites are strange-looking, that's for sure. But they aren't frightening.
But I had met a real Andalite. You could feel the difference between a real Andalite and the evil beast that was Visser Three. It was like he glowed with some dark light. A light that cast a shadow over your mind.
Visser Three. Even Chapman feared him.
Around the Visser, two Hork-Bajir guards deployed. Each was holding a Dracon beam, not that Hork-Bajir ever looked like they needed weapons. They were weapons. Marco had called them walking Salad Shooters. They were living razor blades. Wickedly curved blades raked forward from their foreheads. More blades were at their elbows and wrists. Their feet were like Tobias's talons, only much bigger, like Tyrannosaur feet.
They were seven feet tall, maybe a little more, with a spiked tail. The Andalite had told us that the Hork-Bajir were a good people, enslaved by the Yeerks, just the same way the Yeerks wanted to enslave humans. But it was hard to look at a Hork-Bajir and think they had ever been anything but killing machines.
Behind the Hork-Bajir came four Taxxons.
Imagine a centipede. Now imagine a centipede twice the length of a man and just as big\ around. Imagine that the centipede holds the upper third of its body erect. Imagine pointed legs like steel pins below, and smaller legs with little claws as you get closer to the head. Not that it has a real head. There are four separate globs that look like chopped-up red Jell-O that are the Taxxon's eyes. And at the very top , a mouth. The mouth is perfectly round an lined with row after row of small, needle teeth.
The Andalite told us that the Taxxons are all voluntary hosts. They are allies of the Yeerks.
And yet, as horrible as the Hork-Bajir and the Taxxons were, it was Visser Three who made your skin crawl.
Without the hologram communicator, the Visser communicated in the usual Andalite fashion.
He thought-spoke, much like we all did when we were in morph.
"That is the Andalite bandit?" he asked Chapman.
"Yes, Visser."
Visser Three advanced toward me, almost mincing on his delicate Andalite legs, looking like a cross between a deer, a human, and a scorpion. He aimed his main eyes at me. His stalk eyes canned the area, always watchful. He brought his face close to the cage.
I was staring right into his face. I could see the nose slits open and close as he breathed. I could see the large, almond-shaped eyes narrow as he peered inside to get a better look at me.
83 He was only inches away. I should have tried to reach through the bars and at least bloody him a little.
But the fear was all over me. I was sick with terror. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I couldn't stand his eyes watching me. I turned away, afraid to look.
"Not so brave now, my Andalite friend?" Visser Three asked.
It was the first time any of us had ever been spoken to directly by the Visser. His voice was in my head, threatening and cruel and foul beyond description. It was a voice full of power -- and hate. When he called me an Andalite, I almost burst out, "No, no, Visser, not an Andalite. A human. A human!"
It was like I could feel the terrible force of his will battering me. In an instant I knew: I would never survive his questioning. I would tell him everything. His power was a million times greater than mine. His will was a vast, huge, irresistible thing. And what was I? Just some foolish little girl. A foolish, lost girl. Lost.
And yet, even as I felt my own mind wither before the black terror of Visser Three, another mind came forward.
I was not alone. There was another in my head with me. Someone whose species memory had no images of Visser Three. Fluffer. Fluffer's mind contained fears, but they were different from my fears. Fluffer feared big predator birds. Fluffer feared loud aggressive dogs. Fluffer feared dominant male cats.
But Fluffer was not at all impressed by Visser Three.
On the edge of absolute panic, I let the cat in my mind take over. I sank back, hiding behind the calm cat brain.