Chapter Eleven

It was long ago, in the city of Troy. An arena battle was being held. The origin and the purpose was vague, but it did not matter. They were battles to the death, and the winner would come away with their freedom to prosper in the new world. All through the coliseum, various warriors of different kinds trained in the hope that for the real battle, they would be victorious. There were Roman gladiators, Japanese samurai, tribal fighters from the parts of the world who had not yet cast their eyes to civilization. And there was I, I and my partner-opponent. Xena and Callisto.

We were both formidable, both strong. I am not sure which one was stronger, because to tell the truth I was not sure which one was I, Callisto or Xena. I, and the other presence who was my enemy and partner both, were watching this spectacle from away, from the screaming audience in the arena. We fought in our different ways, with Xena in her huge, sweeping strokes and jumps, and Callisto with her more subtle technique, moving quickly and softly and striking where it hurt most.

Then it was time for us to fight. To really fight. For here in the arena, there were only two choices: life or death. And both of us, very badly wanted life. Both of us thought we could take on the world. The only difference was, someone had an extra card up their sleeve. I hoped it was me.

The announcer ordered us to start. We pulled our swords out of their scabbards and held them out. Then we circled, each trying to access once again the other's weaknesses and strengths. Suddenly Xena lunged. Callisto blocked, then swiftly turned her blade to stab at her opponent's exposed arm. In turn, Xena made another stroke, a clean arc which made it past interception and fell hard on Callisto's front. She would be injured badly by that. Then it would just be a few more strokes to victory.

But strangely, she wasn't even hurt; it seemed that she had instantly healed and all that remained of the possibly mortal wound was a slight scar that ran across Callisto's upper chest where her heart was. And her energy had not in the least been exhausted. Catching Xena off guard, she swiped and cleanly removed her right hand, the hand holding the sword. Xena stood there in shock, not aware of any pain. Only dismay because now her sword hand was gone and she would have to fight with her left one, where the arm was weaker.She ran over and grabbed the sword that had clattered to the ground with her left hand, although she had to pry it out of the now-dead appendage that also lay on the ground, and prepared to resume fighting.

But grinning viscously, Callisto had other plans in mind. She suddenly switched her sword to her left hand, also. She raised her short sword with the point resting a few inches from her own chest, the angle precise to pierce the heart. To her utter shock, Xena found her own hand doing the same thing. As much as she struggled, she could not get it to stop, could not get it to drop the sword. With wicked laughter, Callisto made the motions of plunging her blade into her chest. She stopped it a finger's breadth short of even touching her garments. But Xena, her hand was not so obedient. There was a stunning pain, and all fell into darkness.

*********************

Julie

There was a sound like being underwater, and rushing to the surface. My head shot up with a jerk. For I moment I looked around, trying to find the arena, searching for Xena and Callisto. But then the conscious awareness came back, and I realized the line between dream and reality. I realized, now, what was reality.

But in that realization came the sudden rush of memory: Yeerks, Andalites, dad at the carwash. Plots, schemes, infestation. Visser Three. Kareis nine-two-four. Just before she took back control of my body, I was able to manage one cry for the dream of death and the freedom that I was so sure could have been mine, if only I had just realized . . .

<No,> Kareis suddenly said, holding out my right hand and flexing it, staring at it as if amazed it was still there. <In case you haven't been able to figure it out by now, there's a world of difference between being able to move a little because I'm latent for the moment and having control. It's just like -- like that incident in the pool. I am always dominant.> Her words were harsh and impatient, but her tone was absent and thoughtful. Even afraid, I would have thought had I not known better. Because in that dream, although we had both been sort if omnipotent beings, seeing all and knowing all, I had had the distinct feeling at the end that I was Xena, being harried by a literally manipulative Callisto -- Kareis.

<Strange,> she said in response to my thoughts. <I thought that you were Callisto -- you know, getting me killed, getting revenge on me . . .> I couldn't believe it. It was as if she were genuinely afraid of me, as if I could do anything at all to her. Sure, maybe there were some pent-up emotions in my subconscious. It's true I had always wished that I could, for once, take over Kareis and force her body to do anything I wanted to do, say my words, as if that was possible, but still . . .

I wanted to say something about it, but I couldn't think of anything. Kareis had said something once about my dreams being very metaphorical, sometimes to the point of being prophetic -- often something similar to a dream would happen the next day, while her dreams seemed to be just a collection of random thoughts. I wondered if this could be a foreboding of something to come. And if so, what was its significance? No, I didn't need to ask that. What with my writing and English essays, I could draw up three different allegorical interpretations right now, and none of them were things I wanted to think about.

<One thing:> Kareis said, referring to one of my dream interpretations, <why exactly is the left hand bad? One would almost think that the authors of your ancient legends were discriminatory against people who favored the different hand as well as people with a different skin color or beliefs?>

I was about to burst with a heated argument, but I suddenly thought of something. <Wait a minute, what concern is it of yours? You've never even had "different colored skin," say nothing of any beliefs. Yeah, I can see it now; there are true groups who both want control of a certain pool. And you have your own little Crusades and . . .>

<All right,> Kareis said angrily. <Fine then. But pay attention to those dreams. I had a host once . . . well, just take heed. I don't believe in psychic visions, and I don't think you do, either, but sometimes those shadow plays have strong meaning.>

She, slowly, sat up out of bed, slowly extended my feet to the end and over the edge, and let them drop down, carrying my legs with them until my feet reached the floor. She moved in this way, as if in a daze, and went to the bathroom. She turned the faucet at the tub to "shower" and adjusted the temperature to be as hot as I could stand. Hot enough to give me a shock when I first stepped in. Hot enough to wash away all traces of a dream.

Once again we went throughout the morning routines, something I felt was my only link to my old mundane past. There was the same thing with going downstairs and eating breakfast and Jiran taking me to school, except this time there were no talks of bugs or triple-layered deception. Jiran just talked loudly about how wonderful the great Visser Three's new plan was and nervously ate a piece of toast. Then he took me to school on the way to work.

It was an awkward day at school. Kareis kept on stumbling over her words, or not being able to think of things to say when people would point-blankly ask her questions. I was a little preoccupied, remembering that the Sharing "operation" was tonight. She sat at a corner table at lunch, all alone. At the current time Sharon or any other friend wasn't willing to sit all alone and abandon their clique for me. Maybe it was a good thing (though I wasn't sure at the time if any of it was a good thing) because it enabled Kareis to meet up with a girl I knew only as Laura. It was obvious she was a Controller, a Yeerk with whom Kareis had spoken to in the Yeerk pool and agreed to meet later. Kareis told me that her Yeerk name was Crolis three-eigth-four. They talked softly in a code of sorts, something that to the ignorant ear, or the random eavesdropper, would sound like ordinary lunchtable chatter. But in reality, they were talking about what they were going to do tonight.

"I hear they're having a really good meeting at The Sharing tonight," Laura started, nodding for emphasis as she spoke. She stuck her fork into a piece of lettuce and a tomato wedge out her salad and continued between mouthfuls. "Are you going?"

My lunch as of late had consisted of a Coke and a candy bar. It wasn't the worst thing in the world for me, but between falling asleep in last period and Kareis having a little trouble getting my jeans on in the morning, I didn't care for it. But since there was nothing I could do about it, it was a Snickers bar that Kareis was slowly chewing on and swallowed just before replying "Yes, I think I'll go. You know someone -- a . . .a teacher --- asked me to go. And I'm not doing too good in their class. So I figure that if I show up there, I'll look good and thus --" she stopped herself, realizing that "thus" was not a word that people my age usually used. For some reason I had added it to my vocabulary, so she would slip it out now and then. "So, anyway," she continued, "I think they're having some kind of special activity there. If I do really good at it, I might score brownie points with that teacher and avoid flunking."

Laura's eyes widened. I noticed they were a bright emerald green. "Really, failing? How can you be failing? You're so smart, you pay attention in class, get good grades on tests . . ." there was some slight concern in her voice.

"That's true, but, uh, the teacher doesn't like the way I'm doing my homework," Kareis replied, and seeing Laura's skeptical look, "if you get my drift. He's a very strict person, and he's known to flunk people at the drop of a hat."

She nodded emphatically. "Yes, I see what you mean. I had a few brushes with failure myself." Seeing someone sitting near us look at us quizzically,  and Kareis looking at her with curiosity, she said, "Yeah, I made some pretty low D's in . . . Social Sciences." Laura's secondary job, Kareis told me, was to study human young people and target people who would make the best voluntary hosts. But information such as that is sometimes hard to gather, and when new members to the Sharing lagged down and Yeerks sat in the pool for weeks still waiting for a host, she had almost been executed.

We were quiet a little bit, munching on our respective lunches. Kareis had already finished mine, and Laura was just nibbling on some lettuce shreds at the bottom of her plate scraping at the bits of dressing that had collected there. "Well," Laura said, "what are your plans for the meeting? I heard through the grapevine that you had something special you and some friends were going to do."

Kareis nodded. "You're right. Except there aren't any friends coming along, it's just me. I'm going lone wolf this time. I'm going to try to catch some -- thieves who have been messing up stuff. If I catch them and turn them into the police, I'll probably end up getting a good grade. I might even make an A and pass to the next grade up." Kareis smiled and nodded in a way that said You know what I mean?

Laura nodded, indicating that she did. "I know. We'll all be glad to see you in ninth grade." She smiled a little at how well that expression for Visser Nine fit in with our present age circumstances. She was quiet for a moment, then started again. "And I'd be really glad to see you replace that annoying guy from grade Three." I saw what she meant, but Kareis wasn't sure, and it didn't completely register in my brain for her to read until Laura added, a little ominously, "You know. The principal."

Visser Three.

"Right," Kareis agreed, laughing nervously. She hated Visser Three just as much or more than I did, but to actually admit that was asking for a blade at one's throat. And she had been in trouble with him a little too much lately. But from the way Laura referred to him, it didn't seem that she was too crazy about him either. "Well, I don't like him much either, but to tell the truth, I don't think I could handle that job. I'm okay with -- academic work, but to be a principal? In charge of a whole pla-- I mean a school? And one with so many troublemakers?"

Laura looked thoughtful, then went on, looking a little concerned for me. "No, I really think you can do it. You're perfectly capable, and I know that for a while there you were going through grades really fast. You've just never been that high up before, you don't know what it's like. You don't know what it is to command so many people, to have all that power ---" the kid sitting next to us had already moved away, getting annoyed by their weird talk, but Laura looked around nervously and checked herself.

"Sorry. It's just that I've always dreamed of being a -- a principal, you know. But really, though, it's a perfect position. At --- in third grade, you can do just about anything you want. Any purpose, any revenge, it would be all yours." She sighed and looked away. "You don't know how much I want that position, too. But I don't have a chance at it. I lost that chance back --" she looked over at the people who at this point had been getting bad vibes from us and had scooted their chairs as far over as they could go without looking conspicuous, then back at me. "Well, if you don't want the job it's your choice. But to accomplish anything at all, the key is the guy in grade Three." She said that phrase which such an ominous tone I could almost hear the underlying words "Visser Three."

"Agreed," Kareis said. I could feel that she was weary of this talk of seizing powers and toppling domains. For a breif moment she had forgotten to talk like me, and sounded more like herself. "So how are you planning to help me? I'm going to be alone, but I'll need help in keeping it that way. Do you know of a way to make sure that everyone else working on the operation leaves me alone? It is absolutely essential."

Laura smiled, and for a breif moment I was afraid. For a breif moment the Yeerk controlling her revealed itself in a self-satisfied grin of triumph and malice. "Certainly. I may have been demoted, but I have my ways, you know." Then it was gone, and she looked like a normal girl again. My eyes suddenly widened, Kareis's reaction to the open comment, and she gave her an Are you crazy? look, gesturing with her head at all the people who were not out of earshot.

She suddenly looked nervous. "Oh, sorry." She gave a small a laugh; a normal-sounding, girlish giggle, if a nervous one. Thankfully, the bell rang. We quickly went to dump our trash on the way out into the halls to our classes. Laura ducked into the bathroom to fix her hair quickly before classes began, and Kareis, using my nervous legs, turned the corner to enter another hallway where my English class was. Suddenly I bumped into a girl. She was a lot shorter than me, and as I looked at her I realized that although I didn't know her very well, she was in one of my classes: Earth Science.

"Sorry!"
"Sorry!" We both gave a quick apology at the same time, then ran past each other to get to our classes.

I think her name was Cassie.

*************************

Kareis got back on the Yeerknet, as I was beginning to think of it, that afternoon. She wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong that evening. It wasn't even a sure thing that the Andalites would appear in the first place, or that she would be able to get to them. So she wanted to increase the odds by having every low-ranking Controller who she knew and trusted help her out. There were many, most of which I can't remember. The ones I remember most are Protanus and Crolis. She talked with him breifly, then closed out. Then she made contact with Crolis.

Hey, she typed on the PC. It wasn't like regular chat, where you type something, and click "send." It was a streaming transmission, where as soon as you typed a word it appeared on the screen. It came out kind of garbled on the screen -- a Galard-English mixture, Kareis told me. But I was able to figure most of it out. So you're still going to help me tonight? I need to know exatcly where you're going to be. I didn't have time to ask you at lunch, and I barely have time now.

There was a long pause of cyber-silence. Crolis three-eight-four was not answering. Hello, Kareis typed. I don't have much time. Please answer quickly.

Finally Crolis answered: You mean at lunch? Oh -- I see now. I remember. It's just that I had forgotten ---

Kareis cut her off with her own messege. I wish our regular chat had that feature. How could you forget? she countered. We talked over all kinds of things, like . . . what we were going to do tonight, and you agreed to help me. And about the guy in grade three.

Grade three? Crolis seemed to have forgotten about the codename for the Visser. Do you mean [pause] that Lucat 274 whose host is in third grade? Then I realized -- she must have decided that even this restricted area wasn't safe from prying eyes such as the spies of Visser Three, and was feigning ignorance.

Yes, yes, Kareis agreed emphatically. But remember, you'll be there tonight, won't you? And you will go along with me and help me, won't you? That was strange; they were talking in code now, but it seemed like Crolis might get the wrong messege and think that Kareis actually wanted her to go with her.

All right then. See ya there! Peace, love, and Monkee Monday. Crolis left in a signature with words that were uncomfortably identical to someone I had frequently chatted with on WAA before I had been taken over as a Controller.

<What was that about?> I asked her. <You shouldn't have to use code in that restricted 'net area. And what did she mean when she acted like she didn't know what you were talking about?>

<Oh, come on,> Kareis said. She sounded incredibly disgusted with me. <I see it in your mind, but . . . how in the galaxy can you actually be so naive? Crolis practically stated out in script that she had no idea what I was talking about, and tried to cover it up too late with a poorly-laid excuse. Can't you see it? Though I don't see why. If she was playing both sides she would know what I meant. Maybe she is pretending so she can mess up my plan. Maybe someone took her host for the day. Or maybe . . .> Kareis didn't finish the thought.

<So what are you going to do? If someone's out to get you, they're going to try to catch you when you go to the Sharing meeting. If the Andalites come, they'll either prevent you from getting to them, wait for you to get to them and catch you in the act, or catch them themselves, turn them in and get all the credit.> Kareis seemed mildly impressed. <And,> I went on, <do you know how many Andalites there are on Earth, in this area? Because if there are a lot, maybe you can lead them in surrounding the other Controllers and overpower them, and you could get away with them and do peace talks. But if there arn't very many, you'll just want to get a little messege to them, like "meet me at the park." Then you could see them secretly some other time.>

Now I felt a feeling of something almost related to admiration. Or that could have been my own ego getting reflected back at me.   <Pretty good,> she said. <Actually, to tell the truth I have no idea how many are in this area. They always appear in groups of five or six, and there's almost always a red-tailed hawk around. We think he's the leader, because he appears the most frequently. We don't know if the groups just have the same morphs, or there are actually only six. There might be some in other remote areas, but we havn't heard of them.

<I guess I should just bring along a small trasmitter that I can drop off, that way if there arn't very many of them or if they're all birds, they can take it away and contact me later. As for the rest, I guess we'll play it by ear.> I started thinking about some of the connotations of that phrase, and she said <Okay, okay, scratch that. Bad wording. But I'll have to think on my feet.> Suddenly she focused on me, whereas before she had almost been talking to herself. <Will you not fight, just for this one evening? I have to accomplish this, and if you struggle at a key moment, I'll never get a hold of the Andalites before the others do. And if they do, there will just be six more Andalite-Controllers and Earth's fighting force will be diminished, if not gone. And I'll tell you right now, I'm looking to end the Yeerk-Andalite war thing, but once I go on and find a better host somewhere else, you and this little planet are on your own.>

<I get the point.> I had almost been feeling better, but my spirits lowered again. So I'd be the lone free human stranded on Earth with no allies or friends, never knowing who was an enemy until it was too late . . .

<Forget that!> Kareis interjected. She shut down the computer and collected some stuff from the room. <So do you . . . do you promise?> The word seemed foreign to her. <You can't just say you'll sit back now and fight me when I've got the Dracon pointed.>

<All right,> I agreed. <Why are you so worried, though? It's not like I could do anything to you. You said yourself that no human has ever resisted . . .> I stopped, realizing the answer.

I felt a strong feeling against me, of Kareis wanting to make some cutting remark, but not being able to think of one. She found a small, single-strap bag which she slung over her shoulder after putting some of her personal stuff in it: a mini-transmitter, a fleer, a converter chip, a tiny tracking device, and her little Dracon beam. She put them all in a large makeup bag and covered it with assorted items such as a brush, compact mirror, and other typical girl stuff.

Then, after changing my fashionable shoes and clothes to practical sneakers, straight jeans and a sweatshirt, she ran out of my room. She gave a quick hug to my mom and a small peck on the cheek, "Bye mom. I'll see you later. I'm going to the Sharing meeting."

"Okay honey." She looked at my bag and gave a little laugh. "That's funny. It was just a while ago that you said you hated social groups and things like that. Now you're going to The Sharing almost four times a week."

Kareis made my mouth smile, but she had to bite my lip to keep it from twisting in a wry and regretful way. "Sure, mom." She turned my head toward Jiran. "Okay, Dad, I think we need to leave now."

"The car's running," he replied simply. Kareis went out the side door, and waved at her just before she ran to get in the car. Neither one of us wanted to be late.

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