Is Visser Three actually good at combat? He's certainly personally formidable but it seems like his only real military victory on screen in the series so far is defeating a vastly outnumbered Andalite Dome Ship at the beginning.
I think he suffers from being the primary antagonist of an "enemy of the week" kids' serial in that he keeps getting beaten but his most successful attempts are all tactical victories, and he is at least introduced or talked about by Andalites as actually being a big deal.
Is Visser Three actually good at combat? He's certainly personally formidable but it seems like his only real military victory on screen in the series so far is defeating a vastly outnumbered Andalite Dome Ship at the beginning.
We discussed this at the time but in Hork-Bajir Chronicles he's portrayed as an intelligent, curious, and competent opponent. He seems to be the Yeerk Empire's main expert on Andalites and a good tactician. He captures the Animorphs early in the series and only loses them due to Visser One. His main problem is that by the time of the main series he seems uninterested in humans or covert warfare, and he's stuck on a mission where that's the main role. Longterm infestation of the already arrogant, cruel, and unbalanced Alloran is also clearly taking a toll. He should be in charge of counter-Andalite strategy.
I think he suffers from being the primary antagonist of an "enemy of the week" kids' serial in that he keeps getting beaten but his most successful attempts are all tactical victories, and he is at least introduced or talked about by Andalites as actually being a big deal.
He actually uses morphs in combat (and deliberately searches for deadly animals to morph), which makes him a better fighter than literally every Andalite
And remember, when they first find Ax, leave the Dome ship wreckage, and the Visser catches up with them, Ax's first response is "we're dead," followed by "wait, you know who he is and have escaped him?" followed by "wait, you've fought him? And survived??" Regardless of how often we see him fail in the books (and it's less often than it feels like), he's 100% supposed to be as dangerous, as capable, and as much of a threat as everybody says he is.
I think he suffers from being the primary antagonist of an "enemy of the week" kids' serial in that he keeps getting beaten but his most successful attempts are all tactical victories, and he is at least introduced or talked about by Andalites as actually being a big deal.
This is the big issue, but even with that caveat he sets up a number of decent ambushes. We've already talked about book 5, the stuff with the holographic summit in the David books was a legit great trap, and the Anti-Morphing Ray would have worked perfectly if it weren't for the Chee providing intelligence. The Chee are a huge foil to the Yeerks, and I don't think they've ever entertained the possibility of ancient dog robots infiltrating their organization. (They never found out what that ship was, right?)
. . ., and I don't think they've ever entertained the possibility of ancient dog robots infiltrating their organization.
This has been a common strategic oversight in military history.
This is the big issue, but even with that caveat he sets up a number of decent ambushes. We've already talked about book 5, the stuff with the holographic summit in the David books was a legit great trap, and the Anti-Morphing Ray would have worked perfectly if it weren't for the Chee providing intelligence. The Chee are a huge foil to the Yeerks, and I don't think they've ever entertained the possibility of ancient dog robots infiltrating their organization. (They never found out what that ship was, right?)
Also, it likely would have worked, or at least been a lot harder to permanently stop from being built, if the Animorphs didn't have the completely unexpected and inexplicable ability to send a morph-capable nothlit to get the machine tested on.
Re: A future book:
In Jake's crazy-ass adventure into the future where they lose, what is actually going on there? Is it a test by Ellimist/Crayak? Is it a dream? Is it an allegory? Is it just a tired flavour of the week story to make up the numbers?
Re: A future book:
In Jake's crazy-ass adventure into the future where they lose, what is actually going on there? Is it a test by Ellimist/Crayak? Is it a dream? Is it an allegory? Is it just a tired flavour of the week story to make up the numbers?
I remembered it being
a Crayak thing but checking the wiki it appears to be a dream and/or simulation run by a previously unencountered alien entity we never encounter again
Chapter 6
quote:
Essam piloted the ship down. We detected primitive sensor arrays, what the humans call radar, but those were easily evaded.
We landed on the dark side of the planet. We had no knowledge of human physical capabilities. But the fact that they used artificial lighting made it logical that they were night-blind.
We headed for an empty area, an arid zone far from the large, bright clusters of human cities. The
earest major human habitation was more than a hundred miles away, to the northeast.
Down we went, down through the darkness of Earth's night. I felt my excitement building. It was a momentous occasion. A historic occasion. If I was right, if these were Class-Five aliens, my future was assured. I would be the most respected, and soon thereafter the most feared, Yeerk in the Empire.
Down, down, slipping through the primitive radar, slowly as the empty, barren land rose up to meet us.
We landed. Essam looked at me, questioning.
"Atmosphere?" I asked.
"As the long-range sensors showed: nitrogen, carbon dioxide, oxygen, and various trace gasses as well as particulates. Breathable for Hork-Bajir bodies. Though a bit more oxygen-rich than necessary."
I nodded. So much the better. A species that breathed methane would be of little use to us on the Hork-Bajir or Taxxon worlds. Let alone when we finally invaded the Andalite home world.
"Break out two Dracon weapons," I ordered. "The rules of engagement are simple: No human who sees us may escape alive. We will attempt to capture and infest one or two humans, as circumstances permit."
"Yes, Sub-Visser."
"Open the outer hatch."
The hatch opened. I got up, bent low, stuck my head and shoulders out into alien atmosphere. I breathed deep. The air seemed bitter-tasting and dry to my Hork-Bajir senses. But it was mine. All of it, mine. And that made it a perfect still-pool lagoon as far as I was concerned.
I descended the steps. I planted my Hork-Bajir foot on the sandy, almost powdery soil of Earth. I looked to my left and right.
The sky was black. The earth around me just as black. The stars above cast insignificant illumination, and Earth's moon was below the horizon.
"Night vision," I ordered. Essam came down out of the ship, carrying the small spray vial. He aimed the aerosol at my eyes and sprayed. There was a tingle, then, within seconds, the night was brighter. Not so bright as day, but bright enough for me to see that we were not alone.
Perhaps a quarter mile away was a line of creatures, plainly visible with my enhanced night vision. They had large round heads, nearly as large as my own. The top half of the head was larger, like a shell placed over a smaller head beneath. They had two arms, both also quite large.
My first thought was that they looked like humans. The head, shoulders, and arms were nearly identical to humans'. But below that there was nothing. No torso. No legs. No face, either, or else these humans were faced away from us.
The humans held long sticks that they rested on the sand or held upright.
They seemed to take no notice of us. Our approach had been silent, and it was dark, and yet we were less than a quarter mile away.
"Let's take a closer look," I whispered.
We crept across the sand. Closer. Closer. Then I saw one of the squat creatures rise up. A torso and legs appeared!
He was human. And then I realized they were all humans. They were in a series of holes, or a trench. Buried up to the chest.
"Strange behavior," I muttered.
Ka-WHUMPF!
The trench directly in front of me, less than a hundred yards distant, simply exploded. The concussion was incredible. The violence of the explosion was stunning.
Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF!
Explosions everywhere! The humans in the trench were sent flying into the air, wrapped in flame, their bodies ripped apart.
Essam grabbed me and threw me roughly to the ground.
Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF!
Again and again, the ground erupted. The brilliant red-and-orange explosions illuminated the night, almost blinding my vision. The ground literally struck me, leaped up with each concussion and slammed my chest.
I was frightened. I was more than frightened.
But I was watching, still, learning, trying to understand. There was a low whistle that preceded the explosions. And with my slightly damaged night vision I saw blurs of falling objects.
The explosive projectiles were coming from overhead. Perhaps being dropped by atmospheric craft.
"They're attacking us!" Essam cried.
"No, you fool! The explosions -"
Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF!
Sand poured down like rain. Something heavy landed beside me, mere feet away. In the light of the next explosion I saw it clearly for a half second: a human torso. Arms, legs, head, all gone.
They have, of course, landed right in the midst of a Gulf War battle.
Chapter 7
quote:
hapter 7
"They aren't attacking us," I yelled. "Those humans up in the trench, they're the target. Watch! The explosions follow the line."
Ka-WHUMPF! Ka-WHUMPF!
Then ... nothing. Sudden silence. Not even the sound of sand falling around us.
Finally, voices began to cry out in the night. Alien voices, but their pain and terror were clearly evident.
"Back to the ship," I ordered. I was exhilarated. It was battle, after all. Not our battle, but still with all the drama of life and death, winners and losers.
We jumped up and ran for the ship. For a moment I thought we'd become lost. The ship was nowhere to be seen.
Then, Essam pointed. Our ship had slid into a crater. A crater made by the explosions.
"Maybe they were after us," I said.
Essam was already running, sliding down the sand, slamming into the ship. "Ship's computer, open the exterior hatch!" he yelled.
"Quiet! The humans will hear."
"Ship's computer, open the exterior hatch!"
"Silence! Listen!"
There was a deep, rumbling, growling sound. Growing louder. From our left. From behind the shattered trench. And now, a slightly different note from our right.
"Something's happening," I said. "The battle isn't done. Not yet."
"Ship's computer," Essam hissed. "This is an override. Priority One. Emergency backup protocol. Open exterior hatch."
The hatch opened. Essam leaped inside.
I left him to worry about the ship. He was an engineer, I was not. Instead, I climbed up the side of the ship and stood there on top, with my head above the rim of the crater.
My night vision was completely restored now. I could see a line of large vehicles to my left.
They were broad, squat, slow, ground-hugging machines that roared with the effort of moving their own armored weight. Between the machines were humans, hunched low, carrying sticks or poles half their own height. The poles were unmistakably weapons.
To my right, farther away, a second line of similar vehicles. Fewer in number, but slightly larger, quieter, and somewhat faster. They, like the first group, seemed to move on tracks. Very primitive.
Above these machines were low-flying ships, half a dozen or so. They beat the air with a strange rotary wing, and bristled with what could only be missiles hung on pods and arrayed along either side.
"Sub-Visser! Please come down here!" Essam called. "It's not safe out there."
"No, it definitely isn't, Essam," I said with a laugh.
"Sub-Visser, the engines are down, but I can raise our protective force field. But you'll have to come inside."
"Not yet, Essam. Not yet."
The first group of machines moved slowly, cautiously. The second group swiftly, boldly. Then it occurred to me. The first group could not see the second. They were moving blindly!
The turrets of the faster group turned. Long poles took aim. And then, from the flying machines above ...
Woooosh!
BOOM!
The missiles fired! Right over my head they flew, trailing poorly combusted chemical fuel.
The ground machines opened fire at the same instant.
Crumpf!
BOOM!
The slower tracked machines began to explode. One. Another. Another. As each missile found its target.
BOOM! And a tracked vehicle would erupt into flame and grind to a halt. Within five minutes seventeen of the slower machines were annihilated. None of the swift, sure forces on the right were hit.
The battle swung away, north, as the leftward force began to run.
Essam emerged and climbed up beside me.
"They make war on each other?" he said. "Humans and humans?"
"Yes. So it would seem."
The battle had left me feeling conflicted. It had been wild and exhilarating! But there was a sad dimension, as well: The weapons were primitive but powerful. Given the great numbers the humans could call on, they might be formidable. If so, if humans were too powerful to conquer, my future was death. Quick from Dracon execution, or slow from some sure-death assignment.
Essam said it out loud. "Are they Class Four, Sub-Visser?"
I shook my head. "No, Essam. I will find the way. I will find the way to conquer them. And I already know one thing."
"What is that, Sub -Visser?"
I watched the swift-moving machines that even now had closed on the fleeing prey and continued its annihilation in detail, explosions like flowers in the night.
I pointed at the victors, the swift, confident pursuers. "If we want Earth, we must start with them."
It's only mentioned here briefly, but we see once again how odd it is for humans to make war on other humans. Ax had been surprised by it before, and now Essam and Edriss note it. And from what we've seen of the aliens in this series, it does seem unusual. The Andalites don't seem to do it, and neither do the Hork-Bajir. The Yeerks scheme against and assassinate each other, but we haven't seen any actual war between them, and while Taxxons will cannibalize their wounded, it seems to be instinctual.
I remembered it being a Crayak thing but checking the wiki it appears to be a dream and/or simulation run by a previously unencountered alien entity we never encounter again
Right,
It looks like it's setting up a plot hook that never actually goes anywhere.
This book is so fucking good.
I do think it is interesting that the Yeerk homeworld actually isn't "free". To some extent the Empire is an Empire in exile because they don't actually have the strength to push the Andalites off their own home planet yet, or, presumably, to fight the Andalites on the Andalites' home territories either.
It's odd, really, that the Andalites don't simply glass the Yeerk homeworld.
They didn't hesitate much when it came to genociding the Hork-Bajir, and those weren't enemies.
They need to keep the war as a war of dominance, not extermination. They glass the Yeerk world, and they'll catch a Bug Fighter at 0.6c slamming into their own.
This has been a common strategic oversight in military history.
ROME DID NOT HAVE ANCIENT DOG ROBOTS, MENTULA
Is Visser Three actually good at combat? He's certainly personally formidable but it seems like his only real military victory on screen in the series so far is defeating a vastly outnumbered Andalite Dome Ship at the beginning.
vastly outnumbering the enemy sounds like good strategy
It's odd, really, that the Andalites don't simply glass the Yeerk homeworld.
They didn't hesitate much when it came to genociding the Hork-Bajir, and those weren't enemies.
I think that's because the Hork Bajir world was a basically unknown backwater (and even then they felt the need to keep the genocide on the down low) whereas by the time the Yeerks had actually started causing serious issues, they were well-known enough that you wouldn't be able to hush it up. Although I'm not sure the outrage of the international community is something the Andalites need to care about since apart from the Yeerks themselves there don't seem to be any other powerful races. Maybe it's more the outrage of their own people.
Plus it wouldn't really solve the problem because the actual Yeerk empire would remain unaffected. Just more pissed off.
Do bear in mind that the series has already strongly implied that the Andalites have genocided one spacefaring civilization already - the Five, I think they were, the race that themselves genocided those arctic aliens.
Alloran was desperate, psychotic and behind enemy lines so I never thought he asked command for permission to launch a genocide virus. He had to get the arn to assemble it for him. Maybe I missed a bit?
Although I'm not sure the outrage of the international community is something the Andalites need to care about since apart from the Yeerks themselves there don't seem to be any other powerful races. Maybe it's more the outrage of their own people.
I always got the impression that the galaxy was quite sparsely populated. There are tons of species but they seem to be very very far away from each other and don't need to interact much unless they're in an actual war.
We later find out that the andalites
are bordered by a vastly more advanced species and that the two have generally agreed to ignore each other.
Do bear in mind that the series has already strongly implied that the Andalites have genocided one spacefaring civilization already - the Five, I think they were, the race that themselves genocided those arctic aliens.
well, there were only five of them, so
Genociding the Yeerk's homeworld doesn't really have strategic value in the way that genociding the Hork Bajir did. All they would get out of it is that it would free up the fleet maintaining the blockade to deploy elsewhere and I'm not sure that's worth killing most of a species when the Andalites believe they have the moral high ground.
Also are the Yeerks on the homeworld all part of the Empire? I got the impression our current antagonists were all the exiles who stole the spaceship and flew off, and their associates/descendants.
Also are the Yeerks on the homeworld all part of the Empire? I got the impression our current antagonists were all the exiles who stole the spaceship and flew off, and their associates/descendants.
I like to imagine that the ones left behind are the normal, sane ones who are just shaking their head going, "What ever happened to Esplin 9466 and all of his jerk friends go?"
Also are the Yeerks on the homeworld all part of the Empire? I got the impression our current antagonists were all the exiles who stole the spaceship and flew off, and their associates/descendants.
Our current antagonists are all the descendants of the exiles who stole the spaceships, as far as I can tell, because it wasn't that long afterwards that the Andallites blockaded the Yeerk homeworld. But I don't get the impression that, when it happened in the first place, they were a rogue group of Yeerks or independent of the homeworld. And to the extent that continuity is a thing in this series (which, lets be honest, is probably not much), Visser-Three likely made it back to the homeworld at least once after he got Alloran, because he has the Yeerkbane morph.
Our current antagonists are all the descendants of the exiles who stole the spaceships, as far as I can tell, because it wasn't that long afterwards that the Andallites blockaded the Yeerk homeworld. But I don't get the impression that, when it happened in the first place, they were a rogue group of Yeerks or independent of the homeworld. And to the extent that continuity is a thing in this series (which, lets be honest, is probably not much), Visser-Three likely made it back to the homeworld at least once after he got Alloran, because he has the Yeerkbane morph.
Yeah there's probably holes in the blockade- remember the andalite traitor on the Leeran planet? So there's definitely a potential for andalites to be bought off or whatever.
If you really want to go full Andalite-American metaphor... then perhaps the andalite military high command is intentionally sandbagging in order to build up a
perfect enemy, for their own internal power plays.
If you really want to go full Andalite-American metaphor... then perhaps the andalite military high command is intentionally sandbagging in order to build up a perfect enemy, for their own internal power plays.
On the advice of the famed andalite weapons designer, Reytheeon-Lokheed-Marten
Chapter 8
quote:
It took several hours to get our ship flying again. And now the sun was rising on a vista of bleak destruction. Sand stretched forever, a flat, tan emptiness broken up only by the scorch marks of explosions, the burned-out hulks of the tracked machines, and the occasional human corpse.
Here and there were knots of defeated humans wandering, lost.
A mile or more above the sand, swift, sleek-lined speed-of-sound atmospheric ships flew.
Lower down there were the rotary-winged ships. Far to the east was a long line of the armored vehicles moving north by east.
We flew low and slow. We were safe from radar, but visual masking technology was still in its infancy and available only on a few ships. Not ours.
"What do we do, Sub-Visser?"
I didn't answer. I was scanning the ground ahead through the forward transparency and in the magnification screens.
"There. Ahead and left, a human alone. Take us there, put us down close to him."
We flew toward the lone staggering human. As we passed over he looked up and raised his arms over his head. We landed and he came toward us at a shuffling run, hands still held high.
We opened the hatch and I stepped down. The human stopped running. He stared. He yelled something in his human language and turned to run away.
Humans are not much slower than Hork-Bajir on the ground. But I was healthy, well fed, well rested. The human was none of those things. I was on him very quickly. Essam was right behind me.
The human began shouting and waving his arms, kneeling, and engaging in all manner of unfamiliar gestures. Essam and I stood over him.
"Hold him, Essam."
Essam grabbed the human's arms and pinned them behind him, locking his wrists in one big Hork-Bajir hand.
"His head, Essam. Hold his head."
"Here? You're doing it here?"
"Don't question my orders," I snapped. "Hold his head."
Essam closed his other hand over the human's head. He twisted the head till the ear, the open, inviting ear, was aimed upward, exposed.
"Your Hork-Bajir host body!" Essam hissed.
I hesitated. In my rush to enter this human I had almost forgotten. The instant I was out of my present host he would try to escape.
Escape where? That was the question. In this treeless emptiness the Hork-Bajir wouldn't get far.
I grabbed the human's head to steady it. I leaned down and pressed my own ear to his.
I began to disengage from my host's brain. I withdrew from the lesser functions first. I stretched my body out, thinning to ease through the ear canal till part of me was in contact with the human's outer ear and part of me remained in tenuous contact with the Hork-Bajir brain.
Now would come the most perilous part of the journey. I had to release my hold on the Hork- Bajir brain and would be, for a few terrible seconds, entirely vulnerable.
Every possible scenario occurred to me. That the Hork-Bajir host would grab me and kill me while I was defenseless. That the human would somehow contrive to grab me. That Essam might kill me himself. What did he have to lose? He could claim I died in battle and then take for himself the credit for discovering a Class-Five species.
But I had no practical alternative. Besides, victory goes to the bold. I had bet my life on success. I dropped my last contact with the Hork-Bajir. I was blind again. Half deaf. And suddenly seared by incredible heat. My slime layer was instantly dry and stiff.
I felt my way toward the human's ear canal. Slithered across the convoluted folds of the human's outer ear.
I felt the vibration of noise. No doubt the human was screaming. But I pushed on. My forward antenna array felt the darkness, the warmth, the welcome confinement ahead.
Down into that unfamiliar tunnel. I was an explorer! To the best of my knowledge no other Yeerk had ever gone where I was going: into a human.
The first, I would be the first human-Controller. My place in history was assured. My survival was not.
She's the first Human Controller! Except for the future Visser Three. Also, imagine being this poor guy. You're fleeing for your life, having just been routed by the Americans, and then, all of a sudden, you're being chased by two dinosaurs.
Chapter 9
quote:
I felt giddy with excitement. I would never be able to describe the sensation! The trepidation mixed with anticipation. The nervousness, almost a feeling of shyness, of being an intruder in a place where I was not allowed.
Often, in later years I wished I'd paid more attention to the details. To those first heady impressions. I wished I'd cataloged the pulsing of a human artery, the wild rush of firing neurons, the comic contortions of the human struggling to escape.
But I was too involved in the moment to form the deep, complete memories that can be replayed in infinite detail later on.
By the time I infested my first Gedd there was already a huge body of information on how best to subdue the Gedd mind. The same when it was time to move up to Hork-Bajir.
But this was all new. No one could tell me what to expect. No one could tell me what I would find inside this new, unexplored territory, the human brain.
The ear canal was too tight, of course. There were structures in my path, small bones, a sort of timpanic membrane. I experimented with shoving them aside, rearranging them, secreting the numbing chemicals as I went.
And then, at last, there it was! Just an inch away. Nothing but a last flimsy membrane between me and the brain.
I reached. I stretched. I touched!
Flashes of auditory memory. Had to be, it wasn't real time. No, definitely memory. Memory of human voices. Several different ones. Meaningless jabber. I wasn't near the language circuitry, yet.
I spread, squeezed between skull and brain. I found deep crevices, cracks, gaps within the brain.
Experimentally I reached down into one of these gaps.
There! There it was: language!
But no, no. It didn't make sense. No, it was as if I ... yes, of course. The language functions must be dispersed in more than one area of the brain. This was a part of the language computer. Not all of it.
I seeped down through the crack and found myself experiencing an entirely new sense. Vague. Strange. Disturbing. No detail. It ... it wasn't tied to specific visual or auditory memories.
It seemed to be triggered whenever the human inhaled. Yes. That was it. Through the human's breathing apparatus. But it was a useless sense. Too little specific information.
I continued my exploration. And then, suddenly, I was seeing. Seeing with eyes that were very similar to Hork-Bajir eyes. Weaker in depth perception. Stronger in color differentiation. Slow to adjust from long distance to short. But good eyes. Eyes that would serve a Class Five species.
I turned the eyes and heard the human moan. I focused on Essam. He was still holding the human's head. Essam's Hork-Bajir face was inches from my eyes.
I turned my eyes, trying out the equipment. Left. Right. Up. Down. I spotted movement. A Hork- Bajir, running across the sand. My host body, attempting to escape.
Essam spoke. I heard too little to comprehend.
I spread further, searching for the real-time auditory input. Searching as well for motor control.
Then I discovered something strange and disturbing. A huge, deep chasm. It seemed to separate the human brain into two halves. And between the halves was only a nerve bundle not much thicker than my own true body.
Two halves? Why? Why would the human brain be divided in halves? It was irrational design. It made no sense. Unless ... was this a fully redundant system that would allow the creature to function in the event half its brain was destroyed?
Tentatively I reached toward the far side of the brain. I touched it. Made contact.
Fascinating!
It was incredible. This second half of the brain was an almost mirror image, but not. It could have functioned all on its own, if necessary, and yet it was in some ways radically different in its memories, its sensory interpretation, even its will. Two almost entirely functional brains in one skull, communicating across a channel of nerves. Not a fully redundant system, almost a second, different
brain! Why? It had to involve specialization, of some sort. And yet I found visual and auditory functions on both sides. I found memory on both sides. Found motor control on both sides.
It was then that I knew I was seeing something new. This brain worked by dialectic. Each half of the brain saw and heard and smelled and touched a slightly different world. Each tended toward specialization, but not a hard, fast split. The left half had more language, but not all the language. The right side had more spatial perception, but not all of the spatial perception.
Confusion! Disorder! Illogic!
This mind could argue with itself. This mind could see the same event in different ways. It was insanity! A democratic brain, arguing within itself, with no sure, certain control, only a sort of uneasy compromise. A consensus of disputatious elements.
This brain contained its own traitor!
And, as I began to sift the memories I saw, again and again, the internal argument. The "Should I? Should I not?" debates. The paralysis of internal disagreement.
But I also saw decisions improved as a result of uncertainty. Hesitation and internal discord leading to decisions that were wiser, more useful, than quicker decisions would have been.
And yet that seemed a small compensation for the internal treason and confusion and conflict.
No wonder they kill each other, I thought. They very nearly kill themselves!
It was madness. Humans, as a species, were mad.
This is the whole "brain lateralization" idea, the left/right brained theory, which as far as I understand it, is true in large details....we do have a left and right lobe of the brain, and skills aren't equally distributed in each one, but research has shown that the difference isn't as great as people thought it was when this book was published.
Crazy to think that the entire Yeerk conquest of Earth could have been avoided if a bedraggled Iraqi soldier had held onto his AK and, in a panic, squeezed a magazine off at the two over-confident monsters chasing him. Or if one particular Hork-Bajir slave had had the presence of mind to immediately kill the other when he was free, instead of scarpering.
Chapter 10
quote:
took control slowly. Slowly, so that I could test each new discovery.
Once I could control motor functions I walked the human host back to the ship. Essam took us low and slow in pursuit of my Hork-Bajir host body. It was not hard to find him. He left tracks across the sand. Being Hork-Bajir it never occurred to the simple creature to try and conceal his footprints.
He kept running as we approached. Essam piloted the ship and skimmed along the sand till we could hit the Hork-Bajir with a slow-speed blow that knocked the body to the ground.
Essam tied and secured it and dragged it inside where it lay trussed in a corner, weeping and moaning in a most distracting way.
I continued my exploration of the human. I understood his senses, now: sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste. I understood his motor functions. (Wonderful hands!) I understood his language. And with this came the inevitable awareness of the human mind cowering down in a far corner of the brain, crying, blustering, threatening, begging, and praying to what this human called "Allah."
Now I was busy poring through rich, voluminous memories. Memories of family life: The creature had a wife, a sort of life partnership that was inexplicable. He had reproduced: three small humans, two male, one female. And, it seemed, humans maintained a relationship with their offspring. He had duties - a job - as a painter. He applied protective and visually appealing coverings to human structures.
But his people were poorly led and had blundered into a war they could not possibly win. And in the emergency of war he had been called to serve in the military. He was unhappy about the war, unhappy about being separated from his mate and progeny. And, at the same time, he was proud of doing his duty.
Proud that his male offspring would know that he had been a soldier.
The interest in progeny was persistent. It intruded on any number of thoughts. It formed part of the basis for the creature's sense of his place in the world.
He was confused, a split perspective that was obviously typical of humans: afraid of being killed, proud to risk being killed. The fear, at least, was familiar.
"I am finished," I said, using the human's mouth to speak to Essam.
"Finished, Sub-Visser?"
"I am finished with this human's memories. I have learned all I need for now."
"Will you keep the body or return to your Hork-Bajir host."
"I'll return to the Hork-Bajir," I said. "This creature is useless. His people are weak. He is one of those associated with the losers in the battle we witnessed."
"Should we not begin with the weaker humans?" Essam asked. "Would they not be more vulnerable to takeover?"
I shook my new human head. "But this victory in this location would be meaningless. No, Essam. When I go to the Council of Thirteen and plead for my life, I must be able to tell them that I have a plan for taking this species. And that means taking the most powerful subgroupings among them."
Essam nodded. "As you say, Sub-Visser."
"The enemies of this creature are called French, the British, the Israelis, and the Americans. Various nationalities, subgroupings of humans. They are the victors. Of those subgroupings this creature believes the most powerful to be the Americans. It is to them that we must go, Essam. So, we will go to the place called America."
USA! USA! USA!
But in all seriousness, it's interesting that what she focuses on is the solder's attitude and pride in his kids, because, of course, that's something that Yeerks don't and can't have. Yeerk reproduction results in the death of the parents. Also, we don't know what happened to the soldier/ My guess is that they killed him, but who knows.
Chapter 11
quote:
<Do we really need to go through all of this?>
The Memory Transfer Protocol faded. But my own memories of those glory days still played.
No one answered Visser Three. They were all still lost in the direct, visceral sensation of having infested a human. The memory dump allowed them to see as I had seen, feel all I had felt. I was glad they had felt it, the seductive, addictive pleasure of controlling a human. Felt the nimble fingers and the sharp senses.
<Do we really have to go through all this?> Visser Three demanded again. Garoff snapped out of his trance and answered with more patience than was deserved. "Visser Three, you agreed that using the information from the contemporaneous memory dump was for the best."
<Yes, Council Member Garoff. But must we go through all the details of Visser One's early time on Earth? I can point to those portions of the record that are relevant to the issue of Visser One's treason.>
Garoff laughed. It was not a friendly laugh. "Visser Three, the Council will look at the evidence Visser One chooses to submit." He leaned forward, and his black-red hood slipped back revealing his battle-scarred, ugly Hork-Bajir face. "You may appreciate the privilege when ... if ... you ever turn out to be a defendant yourself."
That was putting it plainly enough for even the fool Visser Three to grasp: He was on trial here, as much as me.
I showed no emotion on my human face. No reaction. No gloating.
"Perhaps we should take a break," Garoff suggested with just a hint of hesitation. He did not glance down the line at his fellow Council members, nothing so careless. But he waited to hear whether the Emperor would object.
One of the Thirteen was Emperor. But only the Thirteen knew which one. Great leaders attract assassination threats. An Andalite assassin would have to kill all thirteen Council members to kill the Emperor himself. And the same would be true of a Yeerk assassin.
"We will adjourn for one standard hour," Garoff said.
The holographic connection was broken. The Council members disappeared. I was alone in the room with Visser Three and the ceremonial Hork-Bajir guards.
"Are you enjoying your big moment, Visser?" I smirked.
<You think you've outmaneuvered me, Edriss-Five-Six-Two? You underestimate me. You always have.>
"I understand you perfectly, Esplin-Nine-Four-Double-Six. You have the necessary brutality without the necessary subtlety. You are crude and emotional. You've made no progress with Earth. None. For all your grandiose schemes you are no further toward your goal than when you took over."
He started to answer, then stopped. He motioned to one of the Hork-Bajir and gave him some instruction.
<I know that human bodies suffer from hunger and thirst at regular intervals,> he said to me.
Moments later the Hork-Bajir reappeared with a glass of water, a head of romaine lettuce, and two raw eggs. I laughed aloud.
"So typical of you, Visser Three. You remain utterly ignorant of humans. Lettuce and raw eggs. Yes, just perfect."
I took the water and drank it down. My mouth, half-paralyzed by injury, dribbled the water down my chest.
<You may be right, Visser One,> he said. <I lack your knowledge of humans. I have never been in a human host, though I have, of course, acquired a human morph. The memory dump was ... extraordinary. I suspect I will soon receive demands from several Council members for a shipment of human hosts. Less dangerous and powerful than Hork-Bajir hosts, but so much more enjoyable.>
I watched him cautiously. He was up to something.
He paced back and forth slowly, his hard hooves tap-tapping. <I often wonder why we ... you and I ... did not become allies. I even wonder at times, whether it is even now too late.>
He trained all four of his eyes on me. Waited.
"You want my help?"
<Think of it as a partnership,> he said. <You and I together? With earth and all it holds? The only known Class-Five species? Five billion, on the way to six billion potential hosts? We would command more power than all the rest of the Empire together.>
I froze. Was he suggesting what I thought he was suggesting? I waited, forcing him to commit himself.
He moved close, his hateful Andalite face, that smug, mouthless mask inches from me. <Why would we even need the rest of the Empire? Why would we need those fools on the Council? You and I together could subdue Earth and start our own, New Yeerk Empire!>
It was so surprising I almost dropped the water glass. The crudeness of the trap was insulting. Was I a fool? Was I insane?
"Visser Three, you are recording all this, of course. And of course you are recording only visual and auditory tracks. Not thought-speak. You hope to trick me into saying something treasonous so you can triumphantly play the recording back for the Council." I shook my head, pitying. "The real wonder, Visser, is that you ever rose to your present rank."
He drew back like I'd slapped him. His tail twitched, aching, desperate to swing that deadly blade and send my head rolling across the floor.
The hologram returned. The Council was assembled again. The two Taxxon members were noisily finishing a meal of something that might still be partly alive.
"Continue Memory Transfer Protocol," Garoff ordered and once more I was plunged back into my own past. Back to the magical, wondrous days when I was taking my first humans.
Back to the days when all the galaxy was going to be mine.
So, back to the present and a lot of stuff here. First, we actually see Garoff here for the first time. Second, Visser One's meal is almost enough for a caesar salad, I guess, but of course, this is a deliberate insult by Visser Three, who knows what humans eat. He seems to have been keeping both Yeerk and Eva at near starvation while she's been in custody, though. I'm also not entirely sure why Visser Three thought she'd fall for the "Lets keep earth for ourselves" thing. He's not the most subtle Yeerk in the world, but he has to know she's not that stupid, unless he was being sincere.
Kind of interesting as well, as evidenced by the makeup of the council and V3's expectation that some of them might requisition human bodies, that despite being their shock troops the Hork Bajir are also basically just the best hosts going around for general living. They really don't have a lot of options.
I like that Visser Three is caught completely flat-footed and us desperately trying to regain the upper hand. Buddy, you are way out of your depth.
Chapter 9
quote:
This brain worked by dialectic.
Ah yes, the immortal science of Vanarxism-Leeranism.
Ah yes, the immortal science of Vanarxism-Leeranism.
It just occurred to me that they must surely still have some Leeran-Controllers on hand and that could wrap this trial up real quick
It just occurred to me that they must surely still have some Leeran-Controllers on hand and that could wrap this trial up real quick
Paranoia bites the Yeerks again. Who would you trust to dig through the mind of the highest ranking Yeerk leader(s)? If they said one thing and the Visser said they were lying for a promotion, who would you believe? Both, probably. No, better to make it a normal trial. At least this way you could have the matter settled. It almost doesn't matter which one is right, as long as the Council's authority is left sacrosanct.
I'm also not entirely sure why Visser Three thought she'd fall for the "Lets keep earth for ourselves" thing. He's not the most subtle Yeerk in the world, but he has to know she's not that stupid, unless he was being sincere.
I could see him being semi-serious with his offer, yes. He doesn't need to actually use his recording unless he wants to.
It makes sense in context, honestly. The Yeerks define power primarily by military strength, and in the early 90s, so an Iraqi soldier in the Gulf War, the USA probably did look unstoppable. For a YA series focusing on American kids, there's worse ways to justify the aliens being primarily interested in the USA.
Hey, I don't normally go in here as I'm rereading the series on my own, but I thought this might be of interest:
https://twitter.com/corviforms/status/1485995507356946450
If international shipping wasn't going to cost more than the actual pins, I would be incredibly on board, they look great. I love the Hork Bajir one
I could see him being semi-serious with his offer, yes. He doesn't need to actually use his recording unless he wants to.
If he's actually being thinking of backstabbing the Council, there's no reason (in his mind) that he'd want to keep his bitterest rival around in a power sharing agreement, especially when she's at her weakest.
Chapter 12
quote:
Stored Memory Transfer Protocol
We disposed of my first host. I returned to my Hork-Bajir host body and we flew back into orbit.
Finding a particular place called America was not easy. My short-lived host was not an educated human and had only a vague notion. Earth's landmasses have various distinguishing features: mountain ranges, rivers, valleys, lakes, coastlines, and so on, but nothing that makes clear that a particular collection of rivers and mountains is one nation and not another.
I returned to the tedious job of searching the raging torrent of electronic data. I detailed the computer to search for references to "America." There were billions.
But slowly, as our food and water supply dwindled dangerously, I began to piece together a few facts. America was a geographic entity defined on the west, east, and southeast by ocean.
The northern border seemed arbitrary. The southwestern border was defined primarily by an otherwise insignificant river.
Humans speak many languages. Americans primarily spoke a language called "English."
So I used the computer to filter out all non-English language data. Still the data stream was overwhelming. I began to arbitrarily dismiss entire genres of data: voice only, telemetry, the rhythmic pulsations that humans call music.
I focused on the combined voice-music-visual signals known as television.
Now I had a basis for proceeding. Or so I thought. But television data was confusing. Some seemed to be simple recordings of events. Others, however, were artificially colored, or artificially drained of color. Some portrayed creatures that were unlikely to exist in nature.
I wished I'd kept the human host.
"Sub-Visser, the water situation has become critical," Essam said. "I must leave this host body within hours, unless we obtain water."
"Soon, Essam. Hold on a bit longer."
I plunged back into the television data, with a particular emphasis on military technology. So confusing. At times it seemed that humans were armed with simple bows that fired sharpened sticks by means of tension produced by a stretched string. Other times they seemed to possess mostly small handheld weapons that made loud sounds and apparently fired small, high-velocity projectiles. On occasion they possessed no weapons at all but relied on swift physical blows.
And then, to my horror, I began to see evidence that human military potential was far greater than anything I'd expected: In some of the television data they possessed nuclear fusion explosives. And in other data they were shown using highly effective, adjustable-intensity beam weapons they called "phasers."
"Faster-than-light spacecraft? Faster-than-light through real space? Impossible!" Essam said, looking over my shoulder. "And armed with beam weapons?"
"How do they manage to get visual records of ships moving at faster-than-light speeds? See, there! The ship is announced to be moving at Warp-Factor Six, which we know from context is a multiple of light speed. And yet there we see the ship from the outside as though the recording device too, is moving at these impossible speeds."
"Not possible," Essam said, his voice rasping, his tongue dry. I had drunk the last of the water several hours earlier.
"No. Faster-than-light travel is an impossibility. Not even the Andalites can do it! That is why we tunnel into Zero-space."
I was puzzled. Confused. Was it possible ... were the humans creating these images to frighten away potential enemies? Was that it? Was this all a complex bluff designed to intimidate potential conquerors?
Then, it hit me in a flash of insight. "It's all a lie, Essam. It's not real. These are created events! Simulations! The humans, they ... they invent these events."
"But what for, Sub-Visser?"
"To intimidate us, Essam. Or ... or perhaps for some other reason. None of what we see here in this data can be taken at face value. There are elements of artifice and deception in all of it!"
"How can we differentiate? How do we know what's real and what's not?"
"We can't," I admitted, once more frustrated. "Perhaps a human can, but it will take us years to sift data in order to determine which weapons systems and capabilities are real and which are simulated. Even the simple matter of human social structure is inexplicable. They have forms of interaction that defy analysis!"
"Yes, they are unusual, certainly. I ... nothing."
"What, Essam? What have you learned?"
He shook his head. "The data seems to show humans simultaneously bound in tight, emotion based relationships, and yet quite likely to murder each other. On occasion they kill each other at an artificially slow speed."
"Once again, we cannot learn what we need from orbit. There is too little time. We must plunge boldly into the shallow end of the pool, Essam. Boldness is called for."
"The last attempt was inadequate."
"I did not then understand the geography of Earth," I said, annoyed at his implied criticism. "I have learned. It is still confusing, but I know this: Even within the limited geographic and political entity called 'America' there are further subdivisions. Cities. Some are obviously irrelevant. Only four are mention frequently in the data: New York, Washington DeeCee, Ellay, and Hollywood. Of these I conclude from the prevalence of mentions in the data that Hollywood is the most important."
I stood up and pushed back from the computer console. "We'll get your water, Essam. The time has come for a second visit to my planet."
The Yeerks have discovered fiction and TV. So, of course, they're going to Hollywood. Also, neat little touch here. Edriss outranks Essam, so of course Edriss gets the last of the water. (You'd also think that, as they have a spaceship and are flying over forests, they might land and get some water and bark, but...)
Chapter 13
quote:
I had absorbed much of the English language. I could recognize and interpret the written form of the language. And as I swooped down on the glittering human city below, I saw the letters, high on a hilltop: Hollywood.
It was almost as if the humans had expected to be visited from space and had placed the letters there to guide us.
We landed in a deep valley in the hills above the city. Our Hork-Bajir bodies were admirably suited for clambering up the steep canyon sides, so much like the Hork-Bajir home world.
We emerged near a building placed on stilts, just sitting out precariously over the canyon. It was brightly illuminated. And a large, ovoid pool of water was brightly lit as well.
We stood in the shadows beyond the pool. It was the size of the sort of pool one might find aboard one of the newer Pool ships. It could have housed ten thousand Yeerks, if necessary. Of course, it was mere water, and horribly transparent at that.
"There is your water, Essam."
We brushed aside a row of sticks that may have been intended as some sort of primitive defense barrier. Essam ran to the water, knelt down, and plunged his face into it. Suddenly, from the far end of the pool, a human emerged! A human female wearing a very minimal garment in two pieces.
"Oh, wow!" she cried.
I raised my Dracon beam. Essam jerked up from the water. I thought he was responding to the presence of this unexpected human. But he began to scream and clutch his face.
"Aaaarrrgghh!"
"Oh, man, are you guys, like from the studio?"
"Essam! What is the difficulty?"
He staggered. big Hork-Bajir talons pressed against his face. "It burns! It burns!"
"The pool guy was here, today," the woman said. "The chlorine's always kind of high right after. Um, should I get Lonnie? I mean, Mr. Lowenstein? He's making drinks."
"It burns! It burns!" Essam cried.
"Silence, Essam!" I snapped. To the woman, I said, "You are female."
She made a human mouth gesture. And she twisted her body slightly, pressing some portions forward aggressively. "I hope I'm a woman," she said.
A second human emerged from the building. A male. Shorter than the female. Also thicker. And partially covered with thin, curly fur. He carried two small, transparent, open containers that appeared to hold liquid.
"Hey! What are you doing here? How'd you get in here?"
"The studio sent them," the female supplied.
The male nodded and looked closely at us. "That's good work, but the look is all wrong. This is way too Alien for what I need. I was looking for something more E.T. Cute, cuddly. Not blades and chicken feet."
Essam seemed to be surviving his exposure to the chlorine. "Essam, we'll take these two."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his fingers. "Which one do you prefer for yourself, Sub- Visser?"
I considered. The male was larger and more powerful. But he was also slower in his movements, less agile. Older, I concluded. Perhaps near death. The female seemed healthier.
"I will take the female," I said.
Essam moved swiftly. He grabbed the female and held her as he had held the lost soldier in the desert.
"Hey! Hey! What the ... hey! You're not from the studio!" the male shouted. "I'm calling the cops. Then, I'm calling my lawyer!"
He turned and ran back into the building.
I went to the female and swiftly, easily now that I had experience, took control of her. A few minutes later Essam took the man.
Thus I became female. And Essam became male. And when the "cops" arrived they found nothing suspicious.
Our two Hork-Bajir hosts had disappeared. Their atoms scattered in the atmosphere of Earth by our Dracon beams.
We had, in the human expression, burned our bridges.
So, in this chapter, Essam discovers chlorination, and the Yeerks take human hosts for good. You also know you're in LA, when somebody, discovering aliens have landed, threatens to call his lawyer.