CHAPTER 7

Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill

	When the others left, Sarah and I were left in an uneasy silence.  It was she
who broke it.
	“Do you have a family, Aximili?” she asked.  “Other than your brother, I
mean.  Parents?  Other siblings?”
	 I answered slowly.  What could she want to know about my family for?
<Because of the war, my parents were allowed to have me after they had
Elfangor.>
	“Birth control, huh?  Happens a lot, when races get overcrowded.”  I said
nothing.  “I have a sister and a brother.  My brother’s older than me.  He’s
darker than me, too.  A lot darker.  Like my dad.  My sister and I - we’re
twins.  Her name’s Kelly.  That’s why I said most people call me Kelly.  She
isn’t like me.  She’s popular, and likes to be with a lot of people.  Not me.
I’ve always been a loner.  I’ve never trusted anyone.  I never even trusted
Kelly, not after... after Udrak.  Not after I became a Controller.  I was
afraid they’d take her, if she found out.  I helped found the Sharing, you
know.”
	Of course I did not know that!  <How was this?> I asked, keeping my voice as
neutral as I could.
	“Proving my worth.”  She sighed.  She still held Udrak in her palm, but now
she was stroking it gently with her finger.  “Visser One was still in charge
then.  She had a different host, then - I don’t remember what it was.  She was
studying as much human culture as she could before she tried becoming one.
She had learned that humans often don’t condemn children for their actions
because they are not  supposed to know better.  She asked me what it would
take to lure children into being Controllers.  We told her how I was a loner,
how I had become a Girl Scout to meet people.  To do stuff.  To be more than
just another face, to be somebody.  She liked that.  She asked me how we might
improve the idea.  The first thing that came to mind was ‘no merit badges’.”
She chuckled without humor.  “The idea grew over the years.  We started the
Sharing a couple years ago - not what it is now, but a
normal club.  Only one Controller works through it.  From there, we learned
exactly what to do when we began a branch here, by the Yeerk pool.”
	<Why was the Yeerk pool built here?> I asked.
	She shrugged.  “The middle of nowhere, I guess.  Easy access to the ocean and
many important installations, but relatively low-key.  It would have been
stupid to build it under a big city, where there’d be sewers to breach and
stuff.  We needed someplace small, but not too small.  Somewhere that it would
go unnoticed.  After that they drew straws or something.  Dumb luck, pretty
much.  At least, as far as I know.  Udrak has some connections, but only among
his fellow nobodies.  Like Iranu.  Better known as Kelly.”  I looked at her
sharply.  She smiled blandly.  “That’s why I lost it, friend.  Why I snapped
at the Hork-Bajir.  Called him... well, never mind what I called him.  They
took Kelly last week.  At the Sharing.  They made her a ‘full
member’.
	“The Council isn’t stupid - they insist that Controllers that must face each
other day in, day out be friendly acquaintances, if not actual friends.  Not
only does it make it less likely that they’d get into an argument and give
themselves away, but it’s psychological, too.  A friend to talk to.  That’s
why they put Iranu Two-Nine-Four-Seven into Kelly.  Because Iranu and Udrak
get along.  Iranu knows about us.  She swore we’d get caught, just like Aftran
did.  But she helped us where she could.  As far as I know, Kelly isn’t too
beaten down.  Iranu just keeps her in line, keeps her from revealing that
she’s a Controller and does her speel for the Sharing and stuff.  Iranu gets
her work done, and lets Kelly do anything that doesn’t defeat that purpose.
Iranu’s a sympathizer, like us.  She just isn’t as radical as Udrak is.”  Her
expression turned sad.  “At night, Kelly and I were always free.  We’d stare
at each
other and whisper to each other.  Kelly hates not having control of what she
says.  She doesn’t hate Iranu.  She understands that Iranu is scared.  A lot
of us are scared.”  Then she sort of chuckled again, the same sad sound that
seemed to be a chuckle, but did not seem in the least bit happy.  It sounded
more like she was trying not to cry.  “Listen to me.  ‘Were always free.’  I
sound...”  Her voice trailed away.  She was staring at something I did not
see, with a different sort of blank look on her face.  It was not as if she
was listening to something else while she was with me, but more like she was
aware of something else that I was not, and unaware of me.  “I sound like I’ll
never see her again,” she said quietly.  Then she straightened, the same
resolved look that had crossed her face as when Udrak had abandoned its
host and she was left to fend for herself among us.  It was a look that was
easily respected.  “But that’s more ’n likely, ain’t it?”  Her voice took on
an odd accenting, a bit of a... a lilt, I think it’s called.  Something
faintly foreign.  “I can’t go back, not since Kel an’ I stopped dressin’
alike.  Sure, people mix us, but not on the side.  I ain’t got the tail no
more.”
	<Tail?> I echoed, surprised.
	She regarded me with focused eyes, smiling slightly.  It was a pleasant
expression, if slightly condescending.  Almost like that of a prince
explaining something simple to a favorite pupil.  “Ponytail, Aximili,” she
said, laughing.  “It’s a type of... well, it’s a way for humans to wear their
hair, if it is long.  See...”  She ran her hands down the sides of her head
lightly, careful of her injury, and clasped them behind her head.  “...we pull
our hair back, like this, and tie it there, so it looks like a tail.  It’s
called a ponytail - tail for short.”  I recalled seeing many humans with their
hair tied in that way - mostly females, but some males as well.  “My hair used
to be a lot longer, almost a foot.  I wore it back so it didn’t get in my
face.  Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I got it cut short.  Kelly got
hers shorter, too, but she still ties it back.  That’s why we can be mistaken
for each other, but only from the front.  Otherwise, other people see that...
whoever they’re looking at... has the tail or
doesn’t.”
	<It is very confusing.>
	She shrugged slightly, more with her right shoulder than her left.  “Lots of
people without them think having an identical twin is all fun and games, but
it’s not,” she said.  “Sometimes I feel like I have no identity.  Like,
instead of Udrak and me being one, like Kelly and I are one in the same
instead.  What really gets to me are those people who seem to think it doesn’t
matter which one is which - those ones that just sort of shrug and refer to us
as if we were siamese or something - as ‘you’, not as ‘Kelly’ or ‘Sarah’ or
even calling me ‘Casey’.”
	<Why do you have two names?  Most humans have only one.>
	“It’s a little invention of mankind’s called the ‘hyphen’.”  She chuckled,
then regarded me in a curious fashion.  “You know a lot for an Andalite,
Aximili.  Do you have human friends somewhere?  Knowing humans the way I do,
there are some weird enough not to mind a weirdo stumbling around like he’s a
dog trying to walk on his hind legs and trying to work his mouth.  Heck, you
probably couldn’t even speak at first, could you, when you did the human
morph?  Humans learn language.  With
thought-speak, how could you know how to move your tongue right?”  That was a
very good point; I hadn’t thought of that.  It was a startling fact; how had I
had any idea how to speak english correctly?  “You must get out a lot, to know
as much as you do.”  She sighed, then lay on her back, her upper body propped
on a slant by her elbows.  She gingerly placed Udrak on the grass next to her.
“Doubt I’m going to get out much.  What are you Andalites going to do with me
anyway?  I mean, I hate to point out the obvious, but I’m just a puny little
human.  After millennia of sheltered living humans have kind of evolved away
from living in the wild.  I can’t just live outside, in the rain, sleet, snow,
and eat grass and drink spring water.  Okay, spring water I can handle -
soda’s no good for anybody anyway - but I’m omniverous, not a
herbivore like you.  I need a special balance of nutrition.  Meat.  Dairy.
Food Pyramid.  Health class.  Man, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m
going to miss health class.  I mean, I can’t ever go back.  You wouldn’t
believe how many Controllers are out there - at least, around here.  One in
ten, at least.  Probably even more than that.”  I stiffened at that; that was
not good news.  “It gets a lot thinner as you go along, but I’m not safe
anywhere around this state.  I... I have to disappear, somehow.”  She bent her
arms, propping herself up less, and manipulated her mouth so that when she
sighed again the hair that fell over her forehead blew upward by her breath.
“I am going to get so bored so quickly it is not funny.  How in our three
worlds can you stand the monotony, Aximili?  No music, no games, no friends?
Oh, right.”  A sad look crossed her face.  “You have friends.  That’s how.”
	It felt as if my hearts turned to lead when she said that; she had no idea.
No idea that I was the only Andalite among my allies.  And that was how it had
to be.  <Yes,> I said simply.
	<Hey, Ax.  Did I miss much?>
	I tried to appear casual as I scanned the sky with my eyestalks alone.  I
spotted Tobias easily this time.  <We were talking.  She has given me some
information that is of some interest.>
	<You know, I could grab that Yeerk and squish it between my talons before
that girl could blink,> I heard him say.  <But right now the others are trying
to figure out exactly what to do, and for now we’ve agreed to keep our good
friend Udrak alive.  Tonight we’re bringing her to what’s left of the shack
where we kept Jake when he was a Controller.>  He dove suddenly at the ground.
<Hang on a minute.  I see lunch.>  I waited patiently.
	“Someone come to relieve you?”
	I turned my stalk eyes toward her once more.  <How->
	She grinned.  “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?  Oh, well.  I
was rambling anyway.  The fact that I asked you the same question four times
sort of gave it away.  And, by the way - just because I’m human doesn’t mean I
can’t tell when you’re staring with your stalk eyes.”
	<One of the warriors has come, yes.>
	“What’s their name?”
	I paused.  I couldn’t tell her that his name was Tobias; Tobias is a human
name.  <He will decide whether or not to tell his name,> I said at last.
	“Which one was he?  The tiger, the gorilla, or the one I couldn’t see?  What
was that last one, anyway - an ant?”
	<He was a hawk,> I answered.  The Yeerks already know we use hawk morphs.
<That is what he is now.>
	Her eyebrows drew downward.  Her voice was sympathetic, unthreatening, but
what she said made my hearts skip.  “You mean he got trapped?”
	
	“You’re right, you didn’t say that,” she echoed in a calm, reassuring voice.
“No need to get all defensive - I just misunderstood what you said.  Sorry.  I
didn’t mean to be right.”
	I was about to reply when I stopped; I had gotten defensive, and revealed a
terrible secret!  How had I been so stupid?
	There was a very awkward silence - at least, for me - until Tobias finally
appeared.  He landed on a branch just above the height of my stalk eyes, and
began to preen his left wing with his sharply hooked beak.  <So what’s news,
Ax?> he asked me privately.
	 I told him, keeping my stalk eyes on Sarah while I faced Tobias.  Sarah was
still reclined, her eyes on the Yeerk, and running her finger down the length
of it every once in a while.  <She helped to found the Sharing, by providing
Visser One information on some form of organization she belonged to as a
human.  The Yeerk pool was built here rather than under a city to avoid
sewers.  She and her sister can be mistaken for one another from the front,
but nowhere else, because her sister has a ‘tail’ and she no longer does.>
	<‘Tail’?>
	<She tried to explain it to me, but it was rather confusing.  It had
something to do with her hair.>
	<Oh.  Don’t worry about it, Ax - it isn’t really that important.  Anything
else?>
	<She does not like having a twin because it makes her lose sense of being an
individual.  And that she has two names - ‘Casey-Sarah’ - because of a machine
called a ‘hyphen’.>
	<‘Hyphen’?  A hyphen isn’t a machine, Ax - it’s... well, it’s part of our
alphabet.  Or at least part of our grammar.  It’s a line that connects two
words, instead of a space.>
	<Why?>
	<It just does.>  He turned to look at Sarah.  I could not tell if she was
ignoring him, or truly unaware of his presense.  <Do you need anything?> he
asked her.
	She looked up at me, then followed my gaze.  “So that’s where you are.  I
don’t know whether to be sorry for you or envy you, nothlit.  A hawk can’t
become a Controller.”
	Tobias glared at me.  <Ax....>
	“Don’t blame him, hawk,” Sarah said, before I could explain.  “It was an
accident.  Aximili told me that you were in a hawk morph, but I warped his
words by mistake.  You can’t blame him.  He’s just a kid.  If anyone, blame
me.  It should be easy for you, and I take blame pretty well.”
	I felt embarrassed; why was she sticking up for me?  I dug at the ground with
one of my forehooves, lowering my eyes, as if I were looking for something in
the hole I was making.  <She tells the truth, Tobias,> I told him privately.
<I... I didn’t mean to.  She asked what you had been before, because she
hadn’t seen you, and I said that you were a hawk, and that you were in that
morph.  My exact words were, ‘that is what he is now.’  She took it to mean
that you were trapped, but I didn’t mean it that way.  I->
	<Ax,> Tobias interrupted patiently.  <Apology accepted, okay?>  Then his
thought-speak took on a lighter tone.  <We kids always make mistakes.>  I
hadn’t gotten to my apology, but I was glad Tobias accepted it anyway.
	He turned his focused gaze to Sarah.  It struck me as slightly peculiar;
Sarah met his gaze as easily as if she were meeting the gaze of another of her
species.  Just as she met my gaze, no matter which eyes I use to look in her
direction.  She struck me as a person not easily surprised.  <Is there
anything else you wish to tell?>
	“I get it,” she said.  She picked up Udrak, sheltering him in her hands so
that, if Tobias swooped, he would hurt her but be unable to injure the Yeerk.
It was a casual but obviously deliberate movement.  “Send the guy with the
yellow eyes to interrigate the human-Controller.  Let me guess - you think I’m
a voluntary traitor to the human race.  I’d rather think of Udrak as a
voluntary traitor to the Yeerk race.  But that’s not important, is it?  By the
way - yellow eyes don’t bug me.  It’s nothing compared to half the stuff
Visser Three has acquired.”  She looked away, and her chin wobbled, just
slightly, as young human children’s chins wobble when they are about to cry.
She didn’t cry; she just refused to look at us for a long moment, then turned
back.  “There’s nothing you can do that could defeat what that... that...
that...rrr- karrruyak dapsen dival trrra!”  The last four words she said in a
mix of a hiss, a snarl, and a shout that I would have believed could only come
from a Gedd, if I hadn’t watched them come from her human mouth.  It was a
very disturbing thing to witness.
	<Umm... what did she just call him, Ax?>
	My father was polite to say that I had a “working vocabulary” when it came to
Galard, the closest thing known space has to a “standard” language.  In other
words, I knew only the simplest of terms, phrases, and grammar.  I barely
passed the course after three tries.  Fortunately, members of the Andalite
military - even arisths like me - are implanted with special translator
devices that are able to morph with us.  The translators are of course set to
understand Galard, or at least the translatable parts of it.  “Dival” and
“Tra” had no translation.  It would also be.... unnecessary to print what the
other words meant.
	<It meant... it wasn’t a nice thing to say, Tobias.  I would rather not
repeat it.>  I left it at that.
	Tobias didn’t.  I could almost imagine him smiling.  <‘Karuyak dapsen dival
tra’,> he repeated.  <I’ll have to remember that.>  Then he focused his
attention on seeming like a stiff-tailed warrior again.  <Cursing Visser Three
gets you nowhere with us,> he snapped.
	She laughed.  “You think I did that for fun?  I’m the one of the family who
can’t say the stronger version of ‘darn’ without feeling guilty.  It’s just
that I have nothing more polite to call him without making that traitorous
bastard seem fuzzy as a kitten and twice as innocent.”  Then she looked away
again, her expression turning pained again.  “Family.  Huh.  That’s kind of
out of the question.”  She looked at me, then Tobias.  “As I told the aristh,
whatever-your-name-is - I don’t know because Aximili thought it would be more
proper for you to introduce yourself if you felt like it - humans are a bit of
a handful as pets.  Just ask Visser One.  Hers gave her such grief for awhile
that she considered calling off the invasion.”  I made a mental note to
tell Marco that; he would be glad to hear it.  You see, Visser One’s human
host is Marco’s mother.  “We need shelter, clean clothing, cooked meat,
vegetation that isn’t quite as... crude as you enjoy it... enjoyed it...
whatever...”  She shrugged a little.  “What I’m trying to say is-”
	<We are dealing with that as you speak.>  Tobias was passing off well as a
warrior.  <You will have a place to sleep for the night.>
	“How about lunch?”
	<If you are hungry, it will have to wait.>
	“He’s never been out so long.”
	Tobias and I were silent for a long moment, caught off-guard by the sudden
change of subject.  Then Tobias demanded in his serious-warrior voice, <What
are you talking about?>
	“Udrak, of course.  In all our years together, he’s never been out of my head
for over an hour.  Oh, geez!”  She did the strangest thing.
	She tried to throw the Yeerk in her ear.  She just swung her hand up and
slapped it to her ear, as if to squash the Yeerk between the side of her head
and her hand - or to force him into her ear as quickly as possible.

CHAPTER 8

	<No!> Tobias shouted.  Or maybe it was me.  I don’t know.
	The Yeerk squirmed eagerly into her ear.  “Oh, man, I’m so sorry!” she cried
out, not to us but to the Yeerk.  “Man, geez, what was I thinking!  You could
have dried out!”  Then her eyes went out of focus for a moment, until she
blinked rapidly a few times, then looked at us almost curiously.  The slightly
out-of-focus look returned to her nice-colored eyes.
	<Dried out?>  Tobias’ thought-speak was directed at me.  <Do Yeerks dry out?>
	<I... I don’t know.>
	“Yeerks... Yeerks have to have a moist environment,” Sarah said... but it
wasn’t like Sarah talking.  Her voice was almost unnaturally patient, even
though she spoke a little too fast.  There was a strained quality to her
voice, as if she wished to shout, but wasn’t for some reason of her own.  She
blinked constantly, as if there was something in her eyes, which were opened
too widely.  Overall, it did not appear as if all was well with her.  “She
hadn’t noticed that I had sucked all the moisture out of the mud she’d put me
in.  Not entirely pleasant, but better than nothing.  That was why she put me
on the ground - because I could not absorb enough moisture from her hands to
keep from  becoming... ill.  One of the problems with being slugs.  Especially
slugs without a way to secrete mucous to coat ourselves with.  We kind of
evolved away from that, considering we spend our lives in Yeerk pools and the
brains of other creatures.  Environments with their own sources of moisture.
A coating of mucous is more a hindrance to us - except in the unlikely
circumstance that we happen to be in the middle of nowhere, laying on the
ground, where a silly little girl forgets anything about us except not to let
us go anywhere.”
	<Very interesting... Udrak Eight-eight-eight,> Tobias said, his voice cold.
	She closed her eyes for a moment; when she opened them again, she seemed
normal again.  “I’m still Casey-Sarah,” the Controller said.  “Sorry.  It
happens that way.  Udrak has to have full control the first few moments.  It’s
faster for us because I open myself to him before he opens me himself.  The
connection is almost immediate - like plugging two wires together.”  A
disturbed look crossed her face before she laughed weakly and attempted to
smile.  “Heck of a lot faster than logging on the Internet.”
	<That is very convenient,> Tobias sneered.
	“You bet it is,” she replied with a more realistic smile, as if she hadn’t
realized he was being sarcastic.  “That way, we can be who we really are that
much more quickly.”  Then she closed her eyes.  Her voice took on the two
seperate tones, first of Udrak, then Sarah.  “You still do not understand how
we are joined, she and I.  Without her, I would go mad trying to hide what
I’ve become.”  It was here that the tone changed the first time.  “Without
him, I’d have nobody, and nothing.  Nobody to trust, nothing I couldn’t fear.
I don’t deal with fear well.”  Then the tone was Udrak’s again.  “I can’t bear
to be alone.”  Then Udrak forced himself against Sarah; the look of guilt on
her face was strangely out-of-place when compared to his words.  The odd,
wide-eyed, strained-and-too-fast-voice quality returned.  “You must give her
someone to trust, Andalites, please.  I can’t go back to the pool.  I won’t
let her be taken.  Let her trust you, please.  Give her what I have to- NO!”
Sarah’s face twitched, a look of anger and fear taking over her face for a
moment, before the guilt returned.  Udrak’s voice became louder, more
desperate.  “I can’t be here for her, Andalites.  I am sorry for what we have
done to you.  I am sorry if what I ask puts you at risk.  But... please.
Don’t let her... don’t let them kill Sarah.  You want to see a Controller beg?
Fine.  I’m begging.  I’m beyond begging, I’m handing myself over.  I’m
bailing, leaving my host.  I’m surrendering.  You hear me?  I surrender.  I
give up.  I quit.  Do what you want to me.  I really don’t care anymore, as
long as you let...Sarah... live.”  Her chin wobbled again, and she turned
away, head lowered, eyes closed, everything about her speaking of defeat.  “Do
we have a deal?” she asked in a low, toneless voice.  “Myself for the girl.
Is it agreed?”
	<Our prince will decide what-> Tobias began.  Then he looked up, passed
Sarah.  <Somebody’s coming, Ax,> he said.  <I’ll go see what’s going on.  You
stay here and make sure neither of them do anything crazy, okay?>
	
	<My plan exactly, Ax-man.>
	“Where are you going?” Udrak demanded, glaring upward at Tobias when he
opened his wings.  The look of pure hate was bone-chilling.  “Answer me!” she
shrieked.  “Andalite filth!  What’s wrong with you!  Answer me, now!”
	Tobias ignored her and took off.    I took a few steps away.  She saw that
movement and glared at me.  “What’s wrong with your nothlit friend, aristh?”
she snarled.  “No taste for the war?  You’d think a carnivore could stand it
better than you herbivorian dapsen tra.”
	<What have you done to Sarah?> I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.  I
didn’t like what I was seeing from Udrak now.  Desperation.  Hate.
	“What does it matter!” she cried.  “I’m dying, and all she can think of is
saving me!  Me!  What business does she have to... to care so much?  The Gedd
didn’t care!  The Council doesn’t care!  Esplin doesn’t care!  Who should care
about the traitorous freak?  I’m not supposed to be this way!  I’m not!  I’m
not supposed to care, and she shouldn’t, either!”  Tears fell from her eyes.
It wasn’t anger that made her shout; I could have faced anger easily.  But
what she was talking about, what was making her cry, made my hearts almost too
heavy to bear.  Udrak was shouting because it  was  ashamed.  It wasn’t
shouting at me, or anyone else; it was just venting its shame.  Then the
crying stopped; her voice shaking almost beyond recognition, she continued in
a near-whisper.  “What’s a host but hands and eyes and an annoying voice in
the back of  your brain?  That’s what it’s supposed to be.  But no, I can’t
deal with the voice.  The Gedd didn’t have a voice anymore.  I couldn’t deal
with her voice.  I couldn’t ignore it.  The crying, scared, pitiful voice - I
couldn’t just ignore it and go on with my life.  I had to help it.  I had to
make it like me.  I cared what that stupid voice said.”  She sobbed, sitting
up and hugging herself tightly with her strong human arms.  She spoke louder,
as if shouting would ease the pain of Udrak’s shame.  “Hosts are supposed to
be hands and eyes and annoying  voices.  They’re not supposed to have hearts.
They’re not  supposed to have souls.  Taxxons don’t have hearts, only hunger.
The Gedd didn’t have hearts, only fear.  Only fear.  All that hosts are
supposed to provide their Controllers are hands and eyes and voices and extra
fear.  The Gedd had a simple, continuous fear, but it had given up.  It didn’t
plead for release, it didn’t beg for mercy or pity.”  Her voice lowered again,
back to the quiet whisper, but it grew steadily louder until she was shouting
once more.  “But this one... this stupid little girl... what had I been
thinking?  Why didn’t I just let those idiots kill her and be done with it?
Instead I’m stuck in her and dealing with her fresh, hot fear.  But I couldn’t
take on any more fear.  I just couldn’t.  My family, gone.  My friends, dead,
except for my best friend... worse than dead, that... that... that Visser!”
She sobbed again.  “There’s just too much fear,” she whispered.  “Fear of
Andalites, of the Council, of the officers, of death, of life, of war, of
promotion, of demotion, of capture, of discovery, of torture, of... of... of
what I’ve become.  Of everything.  Of everything, and everyone.... all the
fear.  To live is to fear.
And the one escape from fear is the most frightening possibility of all.”  She
rocked herself back and forth, still hugging herself.  “I have ....to
ignore... the voice,” she whispered.  “I have... to ignore... the voice.  I
have... to ignore... the voice.  I have... to ignore... the voice....”
	The monotonous repetition of the sentence was more horrifying than the long
outburst had been.  It just continued, over and over.  I couldn’t stop it.
Something had snapped in Udrak, and all that remained for him was fear, shame,
and that one sentence, over and over.  Where was Tobias?
	<Ax?  What happened?  What’s wrong with the Controller?>
	Tobias!  At last!  <Something is wrong with Udrak.  Something has...
changed.>
	Tobias returned to his perch in the tree above me.  He took a moment to watch
Sarah rock back and forth, and mutter, “I have... to ignore... the voice.  I
have... to ignore... the voice...”  <Oh, man...> His voice was quiet.
	<Who is coming?>
	<Marco and Cassie.  The others figured out how to tell what the truth is, so
they’ve got company.  But if we can’t get Udrak to cooperate, even a little,
then... well, then we’re out of luck.>
	<Company?>
	It was then that someone stepped into the small clearing, a boy the same age
as my friends.  He was accompanied by a pair of wolves, one on each side.  In
his hand he held a human-modification Dracon beam.  “Shut up, Udrak!” he
snapped in a cold voice.  “Stand up, or I harm the host.”

...to be continued.... again....