Post by Admin on Aug 6, 2009 1:56:51 GMT -5
Over and over, the emergency Peace Movement channel played the same images and words on loop, and now it was syndicated across other emergency frequencies—though not any of the major ones. The major ones had all been taken off air by the Yeerk government: in fact, save for a handful of these backwaters channels, news from Dallas had been utterly cut off. Which might have been unnoticeable, for anyone outside of the Dallas region…
…if nearly every Controller in the country hadn’t been alerted, by hologram or word of mouth, about the successful “capture” of an Animorph earlier that day. The sudden, complete silence, as the Dallas broadcasts (and news of the Animorph defeat) dropped off the grid, was almost as ominous as the broadcasts that did manage to squeak through.
Almost.
"This is an emergency broadcast! This is an emergency broadcast from Dallas, Texas! My name is not important, and neither is my rank. What you must know is that events are at work in this city which may doom us all." Despite how cliched and overwrought the words were, it was clear that the woman speaking was past caring about that.
The projector suddenly focused, as it had dozens of times now, tossing up the life-size image of a woman sitting in front of a disheveled desk. "What you are about to be shown-" She began to cough, harshly, and took a long drink of water. "What you are about to be shown are the true events as they have happened in Dallas today."
The projection suddenly swiveled, showing an armored truck with a huge security detail pulling up alongside what appeared to be an office... nearby an impossibly large Yeerk pool. "Earlier today a group of Animorphs attempted a rescue mission for our people -- for several Peace Movement captives -- at the Hive. They were unsuccessful, and the Hive went into lockdown shortly after. There are reports of several Animorph casualties, 100 percent..." she gulped, holding in a sob, "100 percent Peace Movement casualties. An Animorph was captured." There was a pause.
"Alive. An Animorph was taken alive."
The hologram switched to huge audience, as a man walked up to a podium. Two Hork Bajir bounded after him, and one was holding something. Next to him, they began affixing the body--it was certainly a body--to the central podium. They used thin wire, which was bound so tight that it clearly cut into the flesh at places.
But the body in question was long past feeling anything. The head hung at a gross angle, the neck severed at least one-third across. The wound was ugly and deep but relatively bloodless: the bleeding out was good and done. The lips were pale, and no one had seen fit to close the eyes: they stared, dark and empty, across the crowd.
"Another Animorph was slain attempting a rescue. We do not know why she was alone--she may be the last of the Dallas group. She was unsuccessful," the reporter said the last word quietly, as if it was terribly obvious, but needed to be said anyway. "The pool director seen here collapsed during his victory speech." Her voice went cold, as the hologram showed the audience bursting into hysterics.
"We believe-ZZT. RZZT." More coughing, underneath the static, but it had happened before—the damage was already done. "We- I- we- believe that a virus prototype was released from the Hive. Casualties... projected casualties are catastrophic."
The woman coughed some more, so violently that her recording device must have been shaken, as the hologram faded and blurred. There was the sound of something heavy thudding to the floor, and the microphone let out a squeal of distaste, reverbing loudly.
Once again, the broadcast looped. Each time the female reporter pleaded to any possible listeners, and at the end of each segment, she died.
--Written by Suji
Luce:
Luce watched Andrew out of the corner of her eye. The expression on his face was one of fierce concentration as he tried to decipher the words of the book he had open on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes flickered to Luce and Luce quickly pretended like she hadn't been watching, her eyes going back to watching the meaningless chatter that the holo projector was spewing out but her eyes returned back to the five year old a moment later.
She had not yet said it out loud but she was proud of him. Andrew could be a bit spoiled and angry. Luce figured he had a right to the anger, but being spoiled wouldn't help anyone, let alone him, so she'd sort of taken it upon herself to help him. Right now it was the only thing she could really do to help Catherine, take care of her son when she couldn't.
He was young, and he was bright and if the human world that cared about children like him, or at least some of them, hadn't been swept away he would have been in school learning how to read and playing on the playground with other kids his age. Luce couldn't give him a playground and she couldn't give him friends or even family, but she could give him this. She tried to bring a new book with her each time. To her surprise she'd discovered that she liked teaching him in the same way she liked teaching the young animorphs how to fight. She found it amusing that after all this Luce Tragar had found out that she wanted to be a school teacher. Who would have guessed?
A frustrated whine came from Andrew and he threw himself into the back of the couch he was sitting on. "I don't get it!" He screamed and then quickly sat up and tried to sweep the book off the table. Luce caught his arm before he could and stopped it in mid swing. He looked up at her in surprise. He always seemed to forget that she could do things like that.
"Don't. You don't throw books on the floor, any book," she said calmly, without any hint of anger or annoyance. He nodded and she let go of his arm. He sat back against the couch, calmer but still discouraged and sullen. "Now, if you didn't understand why didn't you try to sound it out?"
"I didn wath too," he muttered, his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes burning a hole into the table surface they were pointed at. His feet kicked against the sides of the couch.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't understand that. Want to try to speak a little clearer and to me," she said looking at him. He looked up at her, angry, and then settled into silence. Luce just continued to stare. She'd figured out that all it really took to deal with Andrew was patience and that she had.
He finally looked back over at her and said clearly if a little too loudly, "I didn't want to." He still had a sullen expression on his face but he uncrossed his arms and they hung at his sides instead, his fingers picking lint off the couch.
"Why?" She asked as she brushed some hair out of his eyes. He moved away from her hands but not far. It was more of a reaction against coddling that any boy might have than a rejection of her.
He didn't answer her for a long time, staring off into the distance, the look in his eyes sad now instead of angry and then his eyes briefly turned to settle on Sedra where she was sitting on the other couch, quietly reading the Giving Tree to Eva. Luce followed his gaze and a look of understanding came into her own eyes as they turned to meet Andrew's. Now he just looked unhappy, no mask of anger or selfishness. Just a very unhappy 5 year old who sensed something was wrong with his mother. "I didn't want her to laugh," he said very quietly, his voice tight and hurt. Luce felt a flash of anger at Sedra for doing this to Andrew and quickly tried to squash it. This whole situation was just messed up and blaming Sedra wouldn't help anything. But Luce just wished, for one moment of one day, that she could live in a world where she didn't make these horrifying moral compromises. Andrew's happiness or Sedra's? God, why couldn't it be both?
Luce sighed. She doubted very much that Sedra had ever laughed at Andrew's attempts to do anything but children were surprisingly, maddeningly sensitive. If Sedra had ever been anything less than gung-ho supportive, if she'd even been just her normal reserved self when he'd brought her something he may have read it as discouragement or ridicule. Luce wasn't going to argue that with him now, mostly because she wasn't sure if she could. "Why didn't you ask for help then?" Luce asked instead.
He looked up at her and then looked down and picked some more lint off the couch. She waited for him to answer, to say something. She had a feeling that he wasn't used to asking for help. Who in his life had ever gone out of their way to help him? She felt sorry for him but, worse, she didn't want to completely discourage that instinct. She had a feeling he'd need it. She wished she could just tell him that everything was ok and that he'd be taken care of from now on. That he could just be a child again. But she couldn't. Not in good conscience. She couldn't do many things in good conscience.
"Will you help me?" he finally asked, looking at her hopefully. That look was so trusting and so different from the sullen, brattish one he normally wore that Luce just had to smile. She slung an arm around him and pulled him closer.
"Of course." He smiled and she picked up the book and went back down to the line she'd last seen him working on. "Alright, what's this word do you think?" He looked up at her and glanced at Sedra. "It's ok, sound it out." He swallowed and then she saw his mouth start to move as he silently sounded out the words before attempting it out loud.
"Or-ora-orangeh?" He asked. She didn't have to tell him that wasn't it, he had probably never heard a word that sounded like 'orangeh' so even as he said it he was finding no match in his personal vocabulary. He shook his head and looked back down.
"That was close," she said, encouraging him. "Orange, like the color and the fruit." She would have gone on but he didn't seem to be paying attention to her anymore. His eyes had gone wide and his mouth was hanging open. Luce looked up to see what he was looking at and the book dropped from nerveless fingers has her eyes looked into Suji's dead ones.
Her eyes began to flicker, at least that is what it felt like. They didn't quite close, her eyelashes just jumped around as the miniscule muscles that were around her eyes twitched, confused as to the emotion they wanted to express. Luce's breathing started to slow down and she wasn't aware that the hand that had been resting lightly on Andrew's shoulder was now gripping it tight enough to cause pain until he tried to twist out of her grip, the pain pulling him out of his own shock.
Luce looked down at him eyes blank with confusion and then looked back up at the broadcast as it began to repeat, frozen.
Sedra:
Sedra suppressed a small smile, watching quietly as the little girl traced her tiny fingers around the empty outline of the tree's trunk. The story was nothing new to either of them; Eva insisted on reading the same children's book over and over again. For some reason she absolutely loved it, while Sedra had a hard time finding value in the book. It was the same old story of human greed and egocentrism--taking and taking and taking like humans were wont to do, filled to the brim with their own inflated sense of self-worth and false ownership over things that weren't theirs. Nothing too surprising for a book written by humans.
Yet, there were merits to the book. Eva found happiness in reading it, and her happiness managed to affect Sedra in its own little way. And for the first time--in the last month or so since getting Eva back--there had been a shaky accord between Yeerk and host because of Eva. It didn't mean they were on good terms--something that probably would never happen. Only that her host's constant presence was slightly more bearable than usual.
"Come on, I've got to turn the page," Sedra murmured softly, guiding Eva's small hand away from the drawing of the tree. The sketches seemed to fascinate her, despite being colorless. Eva tilted her head to look up at Sedra, stark blue eyes curious, before looking back down to the book. She hid her hand, giggling to herself.
"Ok. Okayyy, okay, okayyy!" Eva murmured, drawing out her words and bouncing excitedly on Sedra's lap. Sedra winced, pain prickling along her leg--it had fallen asleep under Eva's weight. Sedra shifted Eva, feeling the unpleasant tingling rush of blood back to her legs. Eva busied herself fiddling with the edge of the page, unsure whether she should turn it or not without her mother's approval. Lately, there was a lot about Eva that seemed doubtful and hesitant. If Catherine hadn't mentioned it, Sedra wouldn't have noticed it at all. The girl was extremely clingy sometimes, crying if either Sedra or Luce happened to leave the room for a couple seconds.
Comfortable again, Sedra reached forward and turned to the next page. Eva settled back against Sedra's shoulder, her tiny palm resting against the smooth material of the page. Hugging her closer with one arm, Sedra continued reading, her voice low. "But the boy stayed away for a long time ...and the tree was sad." The words on each page were brief, and Eva put her hand on the edge of the page in anticipation of turning it again.
Sedra didn't immediately turn it, but instead she briefly glanced up and over at Luce and Andrew. They were busy together, reading. It was good that the two of them got along together well, considering how bratty the boy liked to act. Up until now she had been ignoring his presence, as Andrew bore no interest at all to her. He was her host's child, born before Sedra had ever infested Catherine. He was a lingering reminder that her host had had some semblance of a past life before Sedra had come. It was annoying. Considerably more since her host spent hours groveling and begging to hold or speak to him. Sedra's lip twitched slightly, and she glanced back down to the book in her hands.
"The--the tree w-w-was sad," Eva echoed Sedra's words, chewing on her lower lip. She wasn't old enough to read on her own yet, but she was eager to learn words and repeat things when she heard them. Sedra found it slightly amusing, especially when the girl came across a word she couldn't pronounce. Just as Sedra began turning the page, there was a dull thud of a book hitting the floor. Lifting her gaze from her own book, Sedra noticed Luce's strange expression. Confused, she followed the other woman's gaze to the holo-projector. Immediately, there was an internal gasp from Catherine.
The volume was low, but the images on the projector were crystal clear. A human's face, strangely familiar, floated across the projector, eyes dead and head cocked at an unnatural angle. It took Sedra a long moment to place where she had seen that face before--it was one of the Animorphs from the dam hostage situation. Obviously dead. Sedra took in a short breath of surprise, sitting motionless. And, if she was hearing right, another one had been captured alive. Alive. Sedra felt a rush of pure elation fill her first and foremost. There might not be any visible war between free humans and Yeerks anymore, but the Animorphs were terrorists--plain and simple. They killed Yeerks and precious hosts regardless, holding back major projects and advancements with their attacks. They deserved what came to them.
The video looped, and it wasn't until then that Sedra thought to glance back at Luce. The realization hadn't registered immediately with her. Luce would know this girl, the two of them had been on the dam. Besides that, Luce was an Animorph. This wasn't good news for her, and the look on her face reflected that. With her expression carefully controlled, Sedra slid Eva off her lap and onto the sofa cushion next to her. Her voice was soft, barely audible over the low droning of the looped video. "Luce..."
Luce:
Luce heard Sedra calling her name but she couldn't do anything about it. She just needed to deal with one thing at a time. Just one thing at a time. Just one thing...just one-
She focused on looking away from the holo projector. It should have been easy, the projector had just torn her world apart. But she couldn't look away. Whether she liked it or not the projector was her only link to where ever Suji was and she had to know-she just had to know more. What had happened? How had it happened? Was there anything, anything at all that she could do? And was it true? Maybe it was a trick. If she just watched again and looked close enough when the image of Suji came up she would be able to see something, anything that proved that Suji was alive. That she was just faking it. Suji was smart, she could trick the yeerks, even into thinking she was dead. She could do that. Luce was sure of it. Yes, that had to be it. It was just her own fault. She just wasn't tricky enough or...or, she just couldn't see it. But it wasn't true, it was a trick or something.
Once she had convinced herself of that for the moment the world began to make just a bit more sense. It wasn't much but it was enough that she could move on to the next task. She looked down at her hand and forced it to open, to let go. She saw each finger and saw how they pressed into Andrew's shoulders, indenting the fabric. She was hurting him. She had to be so she just needed to let go.
One finger at a time it seemed her hand relaxed enough that Andrew was able to tear himself out of her grip. It had all only taken her a moment. Sedra was still waiting for an answer and the video was still only on its second time around. But it felt like everything was taking forever and she just wanted this moment to be over. She wanted this moment in time to just fade away so that she could face whatever was next. She could face that but she wasn't sure if she could face this. If she could just get past this moment.
She looked up at Sedra and tried to think of what to say. She wasn't even sure what expression she was wearing. Controlling it, even being conscious of it was just one too many things for her to pay attention to right now. "I-" The word didn't lead to any where. There was no sentence fully formed in her mind waiting to come out. She paused and tried to figure out what the rest of it should be but just ended up shaking her head and looking away. She put her head in her hands and just stared at the carpet between her feet, each strand of the carpet standing out in disturbing detail. She didn't want to deal with figuring out what to say, she couldn't. She just needed to take a moment.
She didn't realize it but she had started to cry. Her shoulders shook slightly as tears fell on the carpet beneath her. This couldn't be happening.
Sedra:
There was no response, at first, from Luce at saying her name. Sedra's gaze rested on her, silently measuring the woman's reaction to the projector and the images replaying on it. Obviously, despite having a dracon beam held to her head by this same girl, there was some connection between the two. Sedra glanced briefly to Eva, to the projector and its looping images, then back to Luce.
In the background, the gentle buzz of the dying YPM's voice filled the still air. Eva was oblivious to what was happening, the Giving Tree book cradled in her lap and legs bouncing against the sofa. It was possibly the best news Sedra had heard in awhile, and she wasn't celebrating.
<<You.. my god. You fucking slugs,>> Catherine's harsh words were filled with shock. Her host's strong emotions were seeping through to Sedra, a smoldering mix of anger and outrage. Sedra felt a muscle in her jaw twitch, feeling the familiar sensation of her host fighting for control. Six years. Six years of infesting this body, and her host still had the strength to fight her at the worst of times. Sedra clamped down control tightly, fingers twitching on the sofa cushion. In the back of her mind, her host was yelling at her.
With an expression still tightly controlled, Sedra tried to read Luce's face as the woman looked up. The single word Luce spoke, empty, hung in the air. Sedra herself was at a loss of words. Inwardly, she was struggling--with her host as well as with herself. The Yeerk that had been raised in orbit above, that had done countless terrible things to others, that wanted the Animorphs dead and the Earth completely conquered--wanted to cheer what happened. No doubt what most of her colleagues were doing right now. Another part of her was lost at seeing Luce's reaction, frozen on the couch, unsure of what to do, what to feel. Especially once she saw Luce put her head in her hands and begin crying.
It was a wholly human response, wanting to comfort someone who was distressed. The same type of emotion that came from caring for someone else, from wanting the happiness of someone other than yourself. Jals hadn't cried. Sedra had never seen Luce cry, not even in the face of her own infestation. And so Sedra, in all her experience, didn't know how to react. She sat, pinned to the couch, confused.
Then video looped again, and suddenly Eva was tugging at the side of Sedra's shirt and beginning to whine. At that point, something else took hold of Sedra. Snapped out of her daze, she placed a finger on her lips and motioned Eva to be quiet. Slowly, she slid off the couch, approaching Luce and Andrew on the other couch. Andrew was seated on the further side away from Luce now, rubbing his shoulder indignantly and staring with a half-way open mouth at the projector. Sedra took a seat next to Luce and tentatively, if Luce didn't pull away immediately, drew an arm around her to pull her closer.
Luce:
At first Luce tried to stop herself from crying but after only a moment she gave up. Not only was she too weak to hold the emotion back, she didn't even want to. For once she just wanted to feel something. Suji had been her friend, one of the only ones she'd had in a long time and their relationship was one of the few she had in her life that wasn't muddied and tainted by confusing moral dilemmas and mixed loyalties. She didn't want to just shut Suji out and pretend like nothing was wrong. It would have made her death so much more meaningless because it would have invalidated her life, or at least this part of it.
As she thought that she had to choke back a sob. It was the first time she'd thought of Suji as dead. It had just slipped in past her shield of denial and insane belief that the broadcast wasn't real to take up residence in her mind. Once inside, once she'd admitted it herself, it was so much harder to deny or to push away. It was there, a truth that was painfully close and demanded to be acknowledged and dealt with. Her friend was dead and Luce was very much alone.
She wasn't sure how to deal with that. It wasn't something that she could just push through or push past but at the same time she wasn't sure how she could incorporated that horrible fact into her every day reality. It felt like if she tried it would just end up ripping everything apart.
She had to wonder why this was so hard. She'd seen people die before. She'd killed people before. And it wasn't like Suji had been locked up in some safe tower far away from the war. She was a soldier too, going out everyday and facing the same risks that Luce faced. She had chosen that life and had fully understood what it had meant, at least as well as anyone could really understand. Luce wasn't a naive new recruit. She didn't believe that she'd never die or that this war could be won without a cost. But she realized that she had always expected it to be her that paid it. There were so many people in this world and in this war that were better than her that deserved to live more.
Humanity had been decimated, defeated and enslaved and if they were going to win their planet back they would need people like Luce to fight their war for them, to die for them. But to think that the war was where the struggle stopped was short sighted and, despite what many believed of her especially those who knew the suicide track she'd been on until recently, Luce had never been very short sighted. She'd known that this war might stretch on for years, hopefully not generations, but certainly years. But when it was over, and it would end one day, they would need people who could do something other than fight and kill and destroy. They would need people to help rebuild things, create things. Luce couldn't do that but there were people around her that she believed could. People who weren't so damaged by what they had been through that they could still create things. People who were strong enough that this war wouldn't cripple their spirit.
Cassie was one of those people. It was the reason Luce had followed her so loyally. Maybe Matt, maybe Ember, if they survived that long. But to her at least, Suji had been another. So Luce had always expected that one day, at some battle she couldn't foresee, the choice would have to be made between her own life or Suji's and she would gladly go sacrifice herself for her friend.
But that hadn't been what had happened. That pretty, bright fantasy that depicted Luce finally doing a purely selfless act and helping save humanity and, by doing so, redeeming herself had nothing to do with the truth. The truth was Suji had died in some cavernous hole in the ground far from anywhere Luce could help her while Luce had sat here with an enemy, safe as can be.
And maybe it was that truth that was so hard to accept. That Suji had died and, not only had Luce done nothing to stop it, there had been nothing she could do to stop it. She hadn't even known. She was helpless. And she was selfish. How could she mourn the death of just one person when so many others had died. %100 YPM casualties. Even now there was an animorph out there who was facing the worst fate imaginable for one of their kind. And a whole city might be at risk, free humans, controlled humans and yeerks alike. And all she could do was sit here and mourn the death of one person.
But even as the guilt that she wasn't stronger began to seep into her it was being fought by the strongest desire she'd ever felt to just be weak. For a moment to just be a normal human. To show that it hurt when she was hit. To sit and cry about her own pain and to have someone see it and care enough to want to comfort her. Was that weak? Was it self indulgent?
She got two equally strong, yet opposite answers from herself and she wasn't sure which one to heed. For a moment she wavered between trying to stand up and keep going, do something, go back to the base or something, she wasn't even sure what, and just sitting here for a while. But the decision was almost made for her when she felt Sedra's arms around her shoulders. She made a choice and didn't allow herself to question it again. She just took the comfort that was offered and that she needed when she let the other woman pull her closer.
She didn't know if it was the good thing or the right thing to do and she was sure she would agonize over the decision later. Constantly ask herself if she should have gone. Wonder if she was with Sedra because Sedra helped her take the things she needed that she normally didn't allow herself, or if it was only because Sedra let her do the things she wanted even when she knew she shouldn't. Where was the line between need and want? And was doing something just because you wanted to wrong?
She wasn't sure about any of it but at this moment none of those questions mattered. What mattered was that her friend was dead but her death wasn't going to go unmarked or unmourned and that Luce didn't have to be alone.
Sedra:
There was a faint frown that touched on Sedra's lips, but otherwise her face was clinched in a tight, impassive mask. The reporter's voice kept repeating the same lines, in the same whispered volume, in between the same gruesome scenes. Sedra's attention wasn't on the holo-projector as much anymore, but instead down at Luce. Her free hand moved to brush against Luce's cheek, through her dark hair, attempting to be reassuring. Her other arm held Luce close, feeling the soft shudders of her crying. Her blue eyes lifted to the broadcast.
It was easy to think of your enemy as faceless, expendable, villains. Even more so, witnessing what they were capable of. Standing in the face of a ground littered with the corpses of host bodies, shredded and tattered; Yeerks slithering from their ears, delicate membrane scorched by the dry air. Standing in the face of the kind of terror that they inflicted on others, the destruction that they reaped on the Empire and civilization. Sedra had no pity for the dead human girl. The girl was in the wrong. She always would be.
The Yeerk mindset, existing since the first yeerk wormed their way into the ear canal of a Gedd, was something that had always been deeply ingrained in Sedra. Hosts had no more right to their bodies than an organ had to rebel against the body it was in. On the water-thin principle of 'morality', hosts always railed and resisted and argued against it--yet they strode to deny yeerks the basic simplicities in life. A yeerk was born fighting for their right to life, hardened by that little voice in the back of their head telling them they shouldn't exist.
That mindset still had its tenuous hold on Sedra. The purely selfish part of her was rejoicing internally, happy that a good sized chunk of the YPM enemy had been wiped out. And a possible Animorph capture! No doubt some fortunate Visser was overseeing the infestation now. Some lucky Yeerk was squeezing through the alien ear canal, discovering the wonders of a mind that could morph into anything at the mere thought of it. An Andalite technology simultaneously hated and coveted by the Empire. A definite victory.
Yet, part of her still felt hollow. Luce was in her arms, distraught, saddened, sobbing. Some twist of fate, real or not, had entangled Sedra's life with Luce's. It had brought the Animorph to the Sub-Visser's doorstep the past few months. And despite her first attempts at denying it, she had feelings for Luce. Not Catherine's. Not some muddled feelings leftover for a dead Jals. Sedra's own, knotted into the confusion that was their relationship. An emotion thought by other Yeerks to be disgusting or low. A sign that a yeerk was too tangled up with their host and their host's emotions. Weak. Some didn't think it even possible--and beyond impossible to feel something for a human. They were just hosts. Useful tools, like a computer or a car. Nothing more.
But it couldn't be completely true. Sedra felt bad. Not for the YPM death that had happened, or the capture of an enemy. But that someone she cared about was feeling this way. It wasn't guilt. It wasn't empathy for the Animorphs--never would be. Concern? Sedra turned her gaze away from the broadcast, fingers absently locking a strand of Luce's hair behind her ear. Did you have to be human to care for another being? Did it make you less of a Yeerk? Weak?
Sedra's eyes drifted to Eva. To her daughter. The little girl had managed to close the book that had been abandoned on her lap, and was trying to tuck it under her arm and slide off the couch at the same time. After a few failed attempts, she managed to get one bare foot flat on the ground. Sliding the rest of the way, book in hand, Eva stood on two feet and looked anxiously over at Sedra and Luce. Making a detour around Andrew, who was leaning forward with attention rapt on the projector, she ended up in front of the two women, both hands gripping the Giving Tree book.
Uncertain, Eva stood for a moment just looking up at Sedra. There was a twist in her heart, and Sedra knew that it was from Catherine. Her host's previous struggling had ceased momentarily, as she had been the small push to go comfort Luce. Now, her host was calm, quiet. Staring into the eyes of a child she didn't quite want as her own. The desire to turn to the side and look at Andrew was overwhelming. Eva tucked the book against her side with one hand, then looked over to Luce. Then she leaned forward, wrapping one small arm around Luce's leg in a half-hug, hindered by the book in her arm. She was imitating her mother, sensing something was wrong.
Then the looping video abruptly changed. A low shriek echoed from it, and Sedra's gaze jerked up.
Luce:
[image]
The tape was in the middle of another loop when a shriek of reverb cut through.
“Hello? Oh God, gross, fucking gross.” Along with male voice there was the sound of someone pushing something heavily and soft away from the mic. “I don’t know how long this copy has been playing, but things are changing. Not… not for the better.”
Where the hologram had paused its projection, it renewed afresh, now tossing up clips of buildings burning, and mobs in the street. The footage looked like it’d been shot on foot, and some parts perhaps filmed from a bike ride. Intersections were jammed with traffic accidents, and there were signs of a mass exodus: the direction wasn’t too distinct, from ground level. Others seemed content to rob building in broad daylight, with plenty of witnesses, and no one saw fit to stop them.
“The looting started a couple of hours ago. I don’t know where everyone thinks they’re going. It’s hell down here. People are trying to make it out of the city but… well…”
More projections: Hork Bajir easily cutting through masses of unarmed humans—Controllers or not, it was impossible to say—who were unarmed.
“The Hork Bajir got hit by the virus too though. S’funny, right? I mean, after what the Andalites did to ‘em? Haha!” The laugh was frantic, panicked, and the guy speaking into the mic coughed harshly. “Now… now it’s just a lot of bodies. Bodies everywhere. Some people seem affected faster. Some people ain’t. The sight-” There came a keening tone in his voice, on the verge of a wail, and he choked it down. “The sight’s enough to make a guy wish he was one of the former. Dead early.”
More images rolled: no one, it seemed, had wanted to take their chances dying in their homes. At least, that’s what the footage of downtown Dallas suggested: the street was lined with corpses, and the gutters and dips of pavement were often thick with blood. It pooled up to several inches in the worst places. Smears of it were splashed around just about every wall, tellingly at the height of outstretched hands.
“Fucking… fucking suckers…” He hacked again, but it wasn’t a wet cough, not yet. “News is. News is they’ve already quarantined the entire city. Big fucking invisible cage gone up round it all. No one’s getting out. I guess—I guess that’s the smart thing to do. God fucking Almighty, just look at this place. No one’s getting out. Everyone—everyone with some brains—everyone knows what comes after quarantine. Fire. Fire to clean up the Goddamn mess.”
More footage began to unravel of the chaos in the streets.
“Till then… till then, ladies and gents, I’ll be your host.” He laughed again, high pitched and manic. “Before we’re done the Lone Star State is gonna get a lot more lonely, I can tell you that.”
--Written by Suji
---
Luce looked up as the shriek cut through the room and watched the new images silently as they played out above the holo projector. In some small way they were a godsend. As horrible as they were they allowed her to concentrate on something other than her own tortured feelings.
The video cut out as the reporter on the other end laughed at his own lone star joke. Luce wasn't sure what had happened, if somehow the empire had found a way to cut off the feed or if it would be restored, but she was grateful for the blessed silence. No scenes of blood and gore, death and destruction to interrupt the small bubble of peace she and Sedra had built inside this house. And yet, even though it was gone, she felt like the damage was already done. She wasn't sure if she could look at this place the same way again. The evenings spent here with Sedra and the children would forever be linked to today's events.
Luce reached down and lifted the little girl whose arms were still wrapped around her leg into her lap. "Thank you," she said as she kissed Eva's hair. A few tears still ran down her face but they were quickly coming to a stop. Eva curled up against her side and Luce looked up at Sedra. "Both of you, thank you," she said looking into her lover's eyes. She wondered what this meant to the controller. Yes, the animorphs and the YPM, enemies of the empire, had suffered grievous losses today but the latest broadcast made clear that they weren't the only ones.
Luce put a hand on the arm Sedra had around her, wondering if there was some type of comfort she should be offering as well but before she opened her mouth to ask Andrew spoke up. "Are they..." Luce looked over at the young boy and saw that his face was paler than she'd ever seen it and his eyes were wide and staring blankly past Luce, Eva and Sedra, not at them. "Are they..." he swallowed and a few tears squeezed past his shock, "dead? The people-they-" Luce freed an arm from Eva's grasp, the girl not really needing it to balance on Luce's lap because she was holding on so tightly to Luce and Sedra anyway, and held out a hand to Andrew. He rushed to join the only family unit he had and ended up hugging Sedra more than Luce though Luce was the one holding his hand. In normal circumstances he may have avoided the Sub-Visser but these certainly weren't normal circumstances as proven by the fact that he collapsed in tears and buried his face in Sedra's shoulder.
When Luce came here she often felt like she was stealing time away from those that needed her but right now she felt like there was no one that needed her more than the people in this room.
Sedra:
Sedra was rigid as she watched the destruction flash across the projector, eyebrows furrowed. The projector continued to spew out image after image--humans looting stores, bodies and blood coating the streets. Controllers dead. The images were worse than the first broadcast, and Sedra felt an internal cringe from her host. A virus. She hadn't caught the word before, but she was listening closer now. There had been talk from other high-ranking controllers about a virus being developed not too long ago, something that would make it easier to locate and integrate the pesky free human population into the Empire. It must have gotten out of hand before it was ready. What idiot had let it loose?
Sedra fixed her eyes on the projector as the man began talking again, listening intently to his words. The pure, earlier mirth she had felt was slowly dissipating in the face of all this carnage. It was bad news all around, and she was quickly realizing it. No wonder the broadcast wasn't an official one. A few heads were probably rolling because of this.
<<This is terrible, fuck. All those bodies... All those people...>> The thought from Catherine was weak, like she couldn't believe the images were real. Sedra ignored her comments initially, but her host continued. <<An invisible cage. He's right, isn't he? They're going to kill everyone there.>>
<<The alternative is letting the rest of the panicky fools in that city escape and infect us all. Don't you humans have that sentiment? Kill some, save many? Something akin to that.>> Contempt seeped into Sedra's tone, but her host's reaction wasn't a surprise. Sedra herself was still getting a handle on what was happening.
<<If you Yeerks hadn't fucking developed this thing in the first place, this wouldn't be happening.>>
Catherine's last comment went unremarked, as Sedra didn't feel the need to validate the Empire's actions to her host. The reporter ended the broadcast, and the holo-projector flickered as the report was cut off. There was a heavy emptiness left in the video's wake, and the thought crossed her mind that maybe she should be speaking to another controller about what was happening. This was too big for the Empire to cover-up, unlike the dam incident. Other controllers would possibly know more.
She noticed Luce lift Eva into her lap, and then glanced curiously over at the other woman when she thanked Sedra. Luce laid a hand on her arm, and Sedra squeezed her warmly in return. Then, after a long pause, Sedra began, "I'm..." she seemed to be wrestling with herself, the word 'sorry' just barely forming on her lips. However, Andrew interrupted.
"Are they... dead?" Andrew whispered. Sedra's gaze followed Luce's over to the young boy, seeing the pale shock on his face. Immediately, she felt Catherine's heated reaction. <<He saw. Jesus, you let him watch that whole thing.>>
Andrew was staring past them blankly, an unusual look spread across his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Sedra saw Luce extend a hand out to him in comfort. It only took a few seconds for him to dash over to them, and suddenly Sedra found herself part of his embrace. Right away she stiffened immensely, a muscle jumping in her jaw and teeth clenched in annoyance at his unwanted contact. That reaction faded, however, as she was flooded with Catherine's joy. Every muscle in her body ached to wrap an arm around him, wipe his tears away, comfort him. Her host was fighting viciously for it. Instead Sedra did nothing, feeling him cry against her. She looked to Luce.
Luce:
Luce knew Sedra well enough to see how uncomfortable Andrew's contact made her. Andrew was one of the many things they did not talk about specifically because the boy's presence was living proof that they would not be the only two people present for the conversation. It didn't surprise Luce to see Sedra look uncomfortable. What surprised her was the momentary look of pleading she saw. It wasn't Sedra, it was Catherine. Catherine longed to comfort her son and she couldn't, but the desire was strong enough that it had slipped through even Sedra's iron control.
It made Luce sick to see it and it made her feel worthless just to be reminded that she was part of Catherine's slavery. By not saying anything, by allowing it to continue she might as well have been enslaving Catherine herself. I can't do anything, she lied to herself yet again but she was getting sick of her own lies. If she couldn't be honest with herself then she certainly couldn't be honest with anyone else. She could do something, she had just been choosing not to.
Luce stood up, letting Sedra's...Catherine's arm slip from around her waist. She lifted Eva as she rose to her feet and the little girl transferred her weight so that her head was resting on Luce's shoulder. Eva wasn't crying, she wasn't sure what was going on but that didn't mean that she wouldn't remember the images of the holo projector and have nightmares later. She may not understand death, not yet, but she knew something bad was going on and she certainly understood monsters.
"Andrew," Luce said quietly, holding out a hand to him and he quickly grabbed it and scrambled off the couch, wrapping his arms around Luce's leg instead of the Sub-Visser that scared him so much. "I'm going to take them upstairs," Luce said, looking in Sedra's direction but unable to meet her eyes. "If there is any more coming they shouldn't see it." She paused and wondered if she should say what she'd been about to. It would be so easy to slip out of one of the upstairs windows. Just morph her owl and fly back to the base. The others were sure to need her help at a time like this. No doubt Rian was already wondering where she was. But she was needed here more. "I'll be back in a minute."
Luce walked up the stairs, Andrew following so close that he threatened to trip her. She didn't bother going to Eva's room. She had a feeling that Andrew would not want to be alone and Eva wouldn't mind staying with him. The two had been fairly close in the kid farm and sleeping in separate rooms had been an odd change from the communal barracks. The company would do both good tonight so she just turned into Andrew's room and turned on the light when he hesitated at the door and the shadows beyond it.
"Come on," she said, putting a hand between his shoulders and gently pushing him towards his bed. "Time to go to sleep or at least to bed." He looked up at her, frightened, but he trusted her enough to obey. It was misplaced trust and Luce didn't deserve it. She was helping to keep his mother from him. But letting him know that would hurt him more than her. He needed one parent he could trust and it couldn't be Sedra.
He didn't bother changing into any sort of pajamas. He hardly took his shoes off before climbing into his bed. Socks were thrown over the side only after he was under his covers. He looked down guiltily at the socks on the floor and moved to get up to put them away. Sedra had stressed neatness with both of them but especially with Andrew. Luce sat on his bed, preventing him from getting the covers off so he could move. "Don't worry about it tonight. You can pick them up in the morning." Andrew nodded and Eva squirmed to get out of Luce's grasp so Luce let her go.
"Eva, do you mind staying here tonight?" The little girl shook her head no but out of the corner of her eye Luce could already see Andrew start to bristle with indignation. Was Luce implying that he needed someone to stay with him? God forbid. "Andrew," she said looking up at him, "do you mind looking out for Eva tonigh?. I don't want her to be alone." Luce had just cast him as the responsible one, the older one, the one that could be trusted. It made all the difference. The indignation turned to pride and a little relief and he just nodded too and pulled back the covers on the side of the bed Luce wasn't sitting on so that Eva could crawl underneath. Luce helped the little girl get her own shoes off before she crawled under the covers and curled up next to her brother.
Luce stayed for a moment, looking at both of them. She wanted to kiss them and tell them it would all be ok but she wasn't sure if it would be and she didn't want to lie, not to them. She was already telling too many lies. She settled for briefly touching the cheek of both before getting up to walk out of the room. She turned the light off but she left the door open so that light from the hallway could get in.
Turning away from their door she made her way back downstairs.
Sedra:
"Yes, good idea," Sedra responded quietly. She noted the change in Luce's demeanor, the way she was avoiding her eyes, but said nothing about it. Andrew rushed to Luce, and Sedra felt a sharp pang of pain from her host. The expression on Sedra's face faltered briefly, just briefly, but then regained her normal calm. "Goodnight, Evalynn." The little girl was clinging tightly to Luce as she walked away, head still resting against her shoulder, but managed to free a couple fingers from her mouth to wave a goodbye to her mother. Then, the three of them disappeared down into the darkness of the short hallway leading to the stairs.
In the sudden silence Sedra leaned forward, pressing her forehead against both of her palms. Her host was silent. No railing about the video, no curses or complaints about Yeerk cruelty or stupidity. Just a pained silence, thick with a mother's instinctual desire to protect her children. Her child. Andrew. Lifting her face, she propped her elbow against her knee, her chin against her palm, and stared idly at the holo-projector.
None of these events had surprised her. The virus, the destruction, the forcefield, any of it. All her life, she had grown up with the Yeerk Empire whispering in her ear, been instilled with the absolute certainty of her life as a Yeerk, as a loyal subject of the Empire, a conquerer of Earth and humanity. This was the Empire's decision, this was the consequence of some one else's stupidity and mistakes.
It didn't stop what was happening in Dallas from disturbing her to some degree--all the complete, mindless death. The images. And, she assumed, part of the shock she felt was some aftertaste from her host. Humans were always the ones that got sentimental over these things, even if something was inevitable. However, seeing the images reminded her somewhat of the dam incident--of her shock at the sight of all her Yeerk brothers and sisters floating, belly-up, in a bubbly, boiling soup of their own bodies.
Sedra straightened, withdrew from her train of thought, and glanced back towards the kitchen. The white light overhead buzzed gently, a single moth bashing his head relentlessly against the light's covering. She was tempted to bring out some wine for herself, taste the bitter alcohol and wake up her senses a bit. Maybe even prepare for some late-night call from one of the controllers out at Area 51, excited and frightened about what had happened in Dallas. The bad news, what little of it had leaked through the Empire's vice grip, was most likely spreading like wildfire through the ranks.
Just as she was readying to get up and head into the kitchen, Luce returned downstairs. Sedra gave her a half-hearted smile, attempting to mask any lasting traces of her troubled thoughts. Even then, it was clear from her expression that it was a comfort to have Luce around, even if she always tried to appear like she didn't need any comfort. "Are you alright?" Her last words were interrupted by the holo-projector again, and she twisted back around to watch it.
---
[image]
The projector had been showing footage from a fixed point for quite a while now. The recorder must have been some camera mounted at the top of a taller building in Dallas. From this point smoke could be seen billowing over the landscape: traffic jams had not only wrapped metal around metal, but flames spurted up where fires (grease, oil, and electrical) had sprung up. Down on the ground, masses of people seemed to be moving away from the center of the city -- where the pool was located. Bodies casually littered the sidewalks, piled two and three deep in some places. The sidewalks looked more crimson than concrete: blood covered more areas than it didn't, for yards at a time.
Then, every couple of moments, the camera would shake. It was hard to tell what was causing the tremors, which came more and more frequently. Then, suddenly, a flaming jet flashed across the sky, so close that it blocked most of the view, like a horrible asteroid. The heat deformed the camera's lens, warping it slightly. As the object plummeted to the ground, it became easier to distinguish: a bug fighter, half incinerated, falling from the sky. It crashed into the middle of another sky scraper, which promptly folded in two, and collapsed. The dust from the fall was so great that it was impossible to see a thing for a solid minute or two.
Eerily, there was no external sound: just the camera shaking. More and more ships came down, like shooting stars that ignited everything they touched.
"It's raaain-ing it's pour-ing..." The host's voice was cracked, fading, but there. He let out a couple of slurping, wet coughs. "Fallin' staaars! Make a wish!" He let out another cough, which sounded like it brought up liquid. "They know that flying's the only way out. Them's government ships up there, knocking these birdies out of the sky. Suckers."
Now though, a there was something else. A line, faint, white, shot down from the clouds. It was as thin as a thread, barely noticeable with all the smoke and debris in the air. "What's-"
The thin line widened, glowing so bright it was like staring at the sun. And then it was greater than the sun, blinding the entire area in light for handful of seconds. The camera shook wildly, uncontrollably, and it was a wonder the thing wasn't thrown from its mount. "I'll be damned," the host's voice rattled, throat thick with blood. "I knew they had the balls, but Jesus, Jesus."
When the camera readjusted, the light emissions entering readable levels, there was no more pool. It was cleaner than the dying bug fighters and other spacecraft, more efficient: but the pool was gone. The laser had been utterly precise. It must have been a mercy move: the laser was specifically to make the deaths of the defenseless Yeerks in the pool as quick and painless as possible. Unlike what awaited everyone else.
"And now..." The young man's voice burbled. "Now fire."
Maybe ten minutes passed, maybe ten hours: he'd never be able to tell. He held death off though, for as long as possible. He wanted to see this. Needed to see it. It was -- and he laughed a little at the pun -- the chance of a lifetime.
The camera recorded the fall of the first atomic bomb. It looked like nothing: not nearly as impressive as the falling spacecraft and jumbo jets, which careened out of the air like birds with their wings set ablaze. No, the bomb was just a blip, a pebble, tossed carelessly towards the earth. There would be more: the needed to kill everything, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and the forcefield would keep them from decimating too much of the landscape, or irradiating it too greatly. But for now, it was just this one, as far as the camera saw.
For half a second the tiny, metallic object disappeared from view: passing behind the closest line of sky scrapers. When it hit, there was no transition.
One second, a city was there. A dying city, sure: blistering, pestilent, drowning in its own blood, but there.
The next, there was nothing: a brilliant flash. Static.
--Written by Suji
---
Sedra stared at the holo-projector, finding both her hands gripping the cushion beneath her. She didn't realize that she had been slowly leaning forward, watching as first the bug fighter crashed, then bright white as the Yeerk pool was decimated, then, nothing. Static. Leaning back against the couch, Sedra continued to stare at the holo-projector. It was one thing to talk about something like that. It was another thing to see it.
The holo-projector spewed a low hiss of static, and Sedra lifted off the couch. Moving to the holo-projector, she leaned over and switched it off. She assumed there would be no more broadcasts coming out of Dallas anymore. There was the possibility of an official broadcast, but it wasn't something that would be lost--no doubt the Empire would play something over and over, shading Dallas' defeat as some sort of victory for them, despite what looked like massive Yeerk causalities. They did have a free Animorph--and some dead YPM--didn't they? That was what mattered.
Dragging her eyes away from the projector, her gaze rested on Luce. "They had to do it." There was resolve in her tone, a small defensiveness to her posture.
Luce:
Luce didn't return Sedra's smile as she reached the bottom of the stairs. It pained her to see it, to see the vulnerability that Sedra only allowed her to see. It was proof of how much Sedra had come to trust and care for her during their time together and it reminded her just how much in love she was with Sedra. And yet, it wasn't enough to erase the differences between them. She had thought they could once. Months ago she had hoped they could find a way to be together despite everything but she was beginning to realize it just wasn't true. It didn't matter that she loved Sedra, Sedra was still a yeerk and she was actively enslaving at least one person every day and that didn't account for all the ones losing their lives and their freedom because of the work she did.
Luce had stood by and said nothing, done nothing, but that inaction was killing her and she couldn't maintain it anymore and that realization hurt her almost as much as thinking of Sedra as a slaver did.
"Are you alright?" Sedra asked and Luce let it hang. She didn't want to have to answer her because any answer she gave would start them on the path towards separation and she wanted to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. But as was often the case, the world had other plans.
The holo came back on and began broadcasting Dallas' final destruction. Luce watched the destruction from her spot on the last stair. She had yet to actually step down into the living room, instinctually feeling that the living room floor could easily become the arena that she and Sedra fought in.
One hand gripped the banister and her knuckles were white from the pressure she was exerting but it was her only outward reaction to what she was seeing. When it was over, mercifully over, Sedra's voice brought her attention back to the controller.
"They had to do it." She sounded almost defensive and Luce regarded her silently for a long moment. She had to wonder what exactly Sedra told herself every day. How did she justify even this?
"I know," Luce said, stepping down into the living room. Her voice wasn't tired or defeated. It wasn't even depressed, maybe a little sad but not nearly as much as it should be. Less than a half hour ago Luce had nearly collapsed in grief for one lost friend. Now, she hardly blinked at the loss of life the last broadcast had indicated. It wasn't that she didn't feel it, her days of blocking things out had ended, it was just a tragedy too big to express with tears. The lives that were lost today would have to be properly mourned and honored but not right now.
Right now Luce found herself feeling an overwhelming desire to just go home. It was a deceptive feeling. There was no home for her to go to. The closest thing she had was right here, with this woman, with the children who slept upstairs. This was her home. This was her family. But she could no longer stay here.
"If they hadn't done it then the virus would have escaped and infected us all," Luce said, still avoiding looking at Sedra as she walked into the kitchen to pick up the her personal holo communicator, the one Sedra had given her months ago. She found it in a bowl of loose ends where she had always liked to leave it. The bowl had caught her attention on her first visit here and the small piece of decoration had made her see this place as a home and not just a house.
Luce picked up the communicator and turned around to face Sedra. "Of course none of this would have happened if they hadn't created a virus in the first place." She expected it to sound accusatory, it had been meant that way and that is how it sounded in her head, but it came out in the same almost nonchalant and slightly sad voice she'd been speaking in the whole time.
Luce looked down at the communicator. It was her link to Sedra and to the life they had begun to build together. A life they had to keep secret from both of their communities. A life they had to be ashamed of. Luce was tired of being ashamed and of lying to everyone, especially to each other. She looked up and walked over to Sedra and silently held out the communicator.
"I need to go. My faction will need me...I won't be coming back." Her voice shook slightly as she said the last and her hand wasn't completely steady either. She wished she could look away from Sedra but she forced herself to look her right in the eye as she said it. It may be painful but it would have been cowardly to do anything else. If she was telling Sedra she was leaving then she'd face Sedra's reaction. "You should take this back."
…if nearly every Controller in the country hadn’t been alerted, by hologram or word of mouth, about the successful “capture” of an Animorph earlier that day. The sudden, complete silence, as the Dallas broadcasts (and news of the Animorph defeat) dropped off the grid, was almost as ominous as the broadcasts that did manage to squeak through.
Almost.
"This is an emergency broadcast! This is an emergency broadcast from Dallas, Texas! My name is not important, and neither is my rank. What you must know is that events are at work in this city which may doom us all." Despite how cliched and overwrought the words were, it was clear that the woman speaking was past caring about that.
The projector suddenly focused, as it had dozens of times now, tossing up the life-size image of a woman sitting in front of a disheveled desk. "What you are about to be shown-" She began to cough, harshly, and took a long drink of water. "What you are about to be shown are the true events as they have happened in Dallas today."
The projection suddenly swiveled, showing an armored truck with a huge security detail pulling up alongside what appeared to be an office... nearby an impossibly large Yeerk pool. "Earlier today a group of Animorphs attempted a rescue mission for our people -- for several Peace Movement captives -- at the Hive. They were unsuccessful, and the Hive went into lockdown shortly after. There are reports of several Animorph casualties, 100 percent..." she gulped, holding in a sob, "100 percent Peace Movement casualties. An Animorph was captured." There was a pause.
"Alive. An Animorph was taken alive."
The hologram switched to huge audience, as a man walked up to a podium. Two Hork Bajir bounded after him, and one was holding something. Next to him, they began affixing the body--it was certainly a body--to the central podium. They used thin wire, which was bound so tight that it clearly cut into the flesh at places.
But the body in question was long past feeling anything. The head hung at a gross angle, the neck severed at least one-third across. The wound was ugly and deep but relatively bloodless: the bleeding out was good and done. The lips were pale, and no one had seen fit to close the eyes: they stared, dark and empty, across the crowd.
"Another Animorph was slain attempting a rescue. We do not know why she was alone--she may be the last of the Dallas group. She was unsuccessful," the reporter said the last word quietly, as if it was terribly obvious, but needed to be said anyway. "The pool director seen here collapsed during his victory speech." Her voice went cold, as the hologram showed the audience bursting into hysterics.
"We believe-ZZT. RZZT." More coughing, underneath the static, but it had happened before—the damage was already done. "We- I- we- believe that a virus prototype was released from the Hive. Casualties... projected casualties are catastrophic."
The woman coughed some more, so violently that her recording device must have been shaken, as the hologram faded and blurred. There was the sound of something heavy thudding to the floor, and the microphone let out a squeal of distaste, reverbing loudly.
Once again, the broadcast looped. Each time the female reporter pleaded to any possible listeners, and at the end of each segment, she died.
--Written by Suji
Luce:
Luce watched Andrew out of the corner of her eye. The expression on his face was one of fierce concentration as he tried to decipher the words of the book he had open on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes flickered to Luce and Luce quickly pretended like she hadn't been watching, her eyes going back to watching the meaningless chatter that the holo projector was spewing out but her eyes returned back to the five year old a moment later.
She had not yet said it out loud but she was proud of him. Andrew could be a bit spoiled and angry. Luce figured he had a right to the anger, but being spoiled wouldn't help anyone, let alone him, so she'd sort of taken it upon herself to help him. Right now it was the only thing she could really do to help Catherine, take care of her son when she couldn't.
He was young, and he was bright and if the human world that cared about children like him, or at least some of them, hadn't been swept away he would have been in school learning how to read and playing on the playground with other kids his age. Luce couldn't give him a playground and she couldn't give him friends or even family, but she could give him this. She tried to bring a new book with her each time. To her surprise she'd discovered that she liked teaching him in the same way she liked teaching the young animorphs how to fight. She found it amusing that after all this Luce Tragar had found out that she wanted to be a school teacher. Who would have guessed?
A frustrated whine came from Andrew and he threw himself into the back of the couch he was sitting on. "I don't get it!" He screamed and then quickly sat up and tried to sweep the book off the table. Luce caught his arm before he could and stopped it in mid swing. He looked up at her in surprise. He always seemed to forget that she could do things like that.
"Don't. You don't throw books on the floor, any book," she said calmly, without any hint of anger or annoyance. He nodded and she let go of his arm. He sat back against the couch, calmer but still discouraged and sullen. "Now, if you didn't understand why didn't you try to sound it out?"
"I didn wath too," he muttered, his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes burning a hole into the table surface they were pointed at. His feet kicked against the sides of the couch.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't understand that. Want to try to speak a little clearer and to me," she said looking at him. He looked up at her, angry, and then settled into silence. Luce just continued to stare. She'd figured out that all it really took to deal with Andrew was patience and that she had.
He finally looked back over at her and said clearly if a little too loudly, "I didn't want to." He still had a sullen expression on his face but he uncrossed his arms and they hung at his sides instead, his fingers picking lint off the couch.
"Why?" She asked as she brushed some hair out of his eyes. He moved away from her hands but not far. It was more of a reaction against coddling that any boy might have than a rejection of her.
He didn't answer her for a long time, staring off into the distance, the look in his eyes sad now instead of angry and then his eyes briefly turned to settle on Sedra where she was sitting on the other couch, quietly reading the Giving Tree to Eva. Luce followed his gaze and a look of understanding came into her own eyes as they turned to meet Andrew's. Now he just looked unhappy, no mask of anger or selfishness. Just a very unhappy 5 year old who sensed something was wrong with his mother. "I didn't want her to laugh," he said very quietly, his voice tight and hurt. Luce felt a flash of anger at Sedra for doing this to Andrew and quickly tried to squash it. This whole situation was just messed up and blaming Sedra wouldn't help anything. But Luce just wished, for one moment of one day, that she could live in a world where she didn't make these horrifying moral compromises. Andrew's happiness or Sedra's? God, why couldn't it be both?
Luce sighed. She doubted very much that Sedra had ever laughed at Andrew's attempts to do anything but children were surprisingly, maddeningly sensitive. If Sedra had ever been anything less than gung-ho supportive, if she'd even been just her normal reserved self when he'd brought her something he may have read it as discouragement or ridicule. Luce wasn't going to argue that with him now, mostly because she wasn't sure if she could. "Why didn't you ask for help then?" Luce asked instead.
He looked up at her and then looked down and picked some more lint off the couch. She waited for him to answer, to say something. She had a feeling that he wasn't used to asking for help. Who in his life had ever gone out of their way to help him? She felt sorry for him but, worse, she didn't want to completely discourage that instinct. She had a feeling he'd need it. She wished she could just tell him that everything was ok and that he'd be taken care of from now on. That he could just be a child again. But she couldn't. Not in good conscience. She couldn't do many things in good conscience.
"Will you help me?" he finally asked, looking at her hopefully. That look was so trusting and so different from the sullen, brattish one he normally wore that Luce just had to smile. She slung an arm around him and pulled him closer.
"Of course." He smiled and she picked up the book and went back down to the line she'd last seen him working on. "Alright, what's this word do you think?" He looked up at her and glanced at Sedra. "It's ok, sound it out." He swallowed and then she saw his mouth start to move as he silently sounded out the words before attempting it out loud.
"Or-ora-orangeh?" He asked. She didn't have to tell him that wasn't it, he had probably never heard a word that sounded like 'orangeh' so even as he said it he was finding no match in his personal vocabulary. He shook his head and looked back down.
"That was close," she said, encouraging him. "Orange, like the color and the fruit." She would have gone on but he didn't seem to be paying attention to her anymore. His eyes had gone wide and his mouth was hanging open. Luce looked up to see what he was looking at and the book dropped from nerveless fingers has her eyes looked into Suji's dead ones.
Her eyes began to flicker, at least that is what it felt like. They didn't quite close, her eyelashes just jumped around as the miniscule muscles that were around her eyes twitched, confused as to the emotion they wanted to express. Luce's breathing started to slow down and she wasn't aware that the hand that had been resting lightly on Andrew's shoulder was now gripping it tight enough to cause pain until he tried to twist out of her grip, the pain pulling him out of his own shock.
Luce looked down at him eyes blank with confusion and then looked back up at the broadcast as it began to repeat, frozen.
Sedra:
Sedra suppressed a small smile, watching quietly as the little girl traced her tiny fingers around the empty outline of the tree's trunk. The story was nothing new to either of them; Eva insisted on reading the same children's book over and over again. For some reason she absolutely loved it, while Sedra had a hard time finding value in the book. It was the same old story of human greed and egocentrism--taking and taking and taking like humans were wont to do, filled to the brim with their own inflated sense of self-worth and false ownership over things that weren't theirs. Nothing too surprising for a book written by humans.
Yet, there were merits to the book. Eva found happiness in reading it, and her happiness managed to affect Sedra in its own little way. And for the first time--in the last month or so since getting Eva back--there had been a shaky accord between Yeerk and host because of Eva. It didn't mean they were on good terms--something that probably would never happen. Only that her host's constant presence was slightly more bearable than usual.
"Come on, I've got to turn the page," Sedra murmured softly, guiding Eva's small hand away from the drawing of the tree. The sketches seemed to fascinate her, despite being colorless. Eva tilted her head to look up at Sedra, stark blue eyes curious, before looking back down to the book. She hid her hand, giggling to herself.
"Ok. Okayyy, okay, okayyy!" Eva murmured, drawing out her words and bouncing excitedly on Sedra's lap. Sedra winced, pain prickling along her leg--it had fallen asleep under Eva's weight. Sedra shifted Eva, feeling the unpleasant tingling rush of blood back to her legs. Eva busied herself fiddling with the edge of the page, unsure whether she should turn it or not without her mother's approval. Lately, there was a lot about Eva that seemed doubtful and hesitant. If Catherine hadn't mentioned it, Sedra wouldn't have noticed it at all. The girl was extremely clingy sometimes, crying if either Sedra or Luce happened to leave the room for a couple seconds.
Comfortable again, Sedra reached forward and turned to the next page. Eva settled back against Sedra's shoulder, her tiny palm resting against the smooth material of the page. Hugging her closer with one arm, Sedra continued reading, her voice low. "But the boy stayed away for a long time ...and the tree was sad." The words on each page were brief, and Eva put her hand on the edge of the page in anticipation of turning it again.
Sedra didn't immediately turn it, but instead she briefly glanced up and over at Luce and Andrew. They were busy together, reading. It was good that the two of them got along together well, considering how bratty the boy liked to act. Up until now she had been ignoring his presence, as Andrew bore no interest at all to her. He was her host's child, born before Sedra had ever infested Catherine. He was a lingering reminder that her host had had some semblance of a past life before Sedra had come. It was annoying. Considerably more since her host spent hours groveling and begging to hold or speak to him. Sedra's lip twitched slightly, and she glanced back down to the book in her hands.
"The--the tree w-w-was sad," Eva echoed Sedra's words, chewing on her lower lip. She wasn't old enough to read on her own yet, but she was eager to learn words and repeat things when she heard them. Sedra found it slightly amusing, especially when the girl came across a word she couldn't pronounce. Just as Sedra began turning the page, there was a dull thud of a book hitting the floor. Lifting her gaze from her own book, Sedra noticed Luce's strange expression. Confused, she followed the other woman's gaze to the holo-projector. Immediately, there was an internal gasp from Catherine.
The volume was low, but the images on the projector were crystal clear. A human's face, strangely familiar, floated across the projector, eyes dead and head cocked at an unnatural angle. It took Sedra a long moment to place where she had seen that face before--it was one of the Animorphs from the dam hostage situation. Obviously dead. Sedra took in a short breath of surprise, sitting motionless. And, if she was hearing right, another one had been captured alive. Alive. Sedra felt a rush of pure elation fill her first and foremost. There might not be any visible war between free humans and Yeerks anymore, but the Animorphs were terrorists--plain and simple. They killed Yeerks and precious hosts regardless, holding back major projects and advancements with their attacks. They deserved what came to them.
The video looped, and it wasn't until then that Sedra thought to glance back at Luce. The realization hadn't registered immediately with her. Luce would know this girl, the two of them had been on the dam. Besides that, Luce was an Animorph. This wasn't good news for her, and the look on her face reflected that. With her expression carefully controlled, Sedra slid Eva off her lap and onto the sofa cushion next to her. Her voice was soft, barely audible over the low droning of the looped video. "Luce..."
Luce:
Luce heard Sedra calling her name but she couldn't do anything about it. She just needed to deal with one thing at a time. Just one thing at a time. Just one thing...just one-
She focused on looking away from the holo projector. It should have been easy, the projector had just torn her world apart. But she couldn't look away. Whether she liked it or not the projector was her only link to where ever Suji was and she had to know-she just had to know more. What had happened? How had it happened? Was there anything, anything at all that she could do? And was it true? Maybe it was a trick. If she just watched again and looked close enough when the image of Suji came up she would be able to see something, anything that proved that Suji was alive. That she was just faking it. Suji was smart, she could trick the yeerks, even into thinking she was dead. She could do that. Luce was sure of it. Yes, that had to be it. It was just her own fault. She just wasn't tricky enough or...or, she just couldn't see it. But it wasn't true, it was a trick or something.
Once she had convinced herself of that for the moment the world began to make just a bit more sense. It wasn't much but it was enough that she could move on to the next task. She looked down at her hand and forced it to open, to let go. She saw each finger and saw how they pressed into Andrew's shoulders, indenting the fabric. She was hurting him. She had to be so she just needed to let go.
One finger at a time it seemed her hand relaxed enough that Andrew was able to tear himself out of her grip. It had all only taken her a moment. Sedra was still waiting for an answer and the video was still only on its second time around. But it felt like everything was taking forever and she just wanted this moment to be over. She wanted this moment in time to just fade away so that she could face whatever was next. She could face that but she wasn't sure if she could face this. If she could just get past this moment.
She looked up at Sedra and tried to think of what to say. She wasn't even sure what expression she was wearing. Controlling it, even being conscious of it was just one too many things for her to pay attention to right now. "I-" The word didn't lead to any where. There was no sentence fully formed in her mind waiting to come out. She paused and tried to figure out what the rest of it should be but just ended up shaking her head and looking away. She put her head in her hands and just stared at the carpet between her feet, each strand of the carpet standing out in disturbing detail. She didn't want to deal with figuring out what to say, she couldn't. She just needed to take a moment.
She didn't realize it but she had started to cry. Her shoulders shook slightly as tears fell on the carpet beneath her. This couldn't be happening.
Sedra:
There was no response, at first, from Luce at saying her name. Sedra's gaze rested on her, silently measuring the woman's reaction to the projector and the images replaying on it. Obviously, despite having a dracon beam held to her head by this same girl, there was some connection between the two. Sedra glanced briefly to Eva, to the projector and its looping images, then back to Luce.
In the background, the gentle buzz of the dying YPM's voice filled the still air. Eva was oblivious to what was happening, the Giving Tree book cradled in her lap and legs bouncing against the sofa. It was possibly the best news Sedra had heard in awhile, and she wasn't celebrating.
<<You.. my god. You fucking slugs,>> Catherine's harsh words were filled with shock. Her host's strong emotions were seeping through to Sedra, a smoldering mix of anger and outrage. Sedra felt a muscle in her jaw twitch, feeling the familiar sensation of her host fighting for control. Six years. Six years of infesting this body, and her host still had the strength to fight her at the worst of times. Sedra clamped down control tightly, fingers twitching on the sofa cushion. In the back of her mind, her host was yelling at her.
With an expression still tightly controlled, Sedra tried to read Luce's face as the woman looked up. The single word Luce spoke, empty, hung in the air. Sedra herself was at a loss of words. Inwardly, she was struggling--with her host as well as with herself. The Yeerk that had been raised in orbit above, that had done countless terrible things to others, that wanted the Animorphs dead and the Earth completely conquered--wanted to cheer what happened. No doubt what most of her colleagues were doing right now. Another part of her was lost at seeing Luce's reaction, frozen on the couch, unsure of what to do, what to feel. Especially once she saw Luce put her head in her hands and begin crying.
It was a wholly human response, wanting to comfort someone who was distressed. The same type of emotion that came from caring for someone else, from wanting the happiness of someone other than yourself. Jals hadn't cried. Sedra had never seen Luce cry, not even in the face of her own infestation. And so Sedra, in all her experience, didn't know how to react. She sat, pinned to the couch, confused.
Then video looped again, and suddenly Eva was tugging at the side of Sedra's shirt and beginning to whine. At that point, something else took hold of Sedra. Snapped out of her daze, she placed a finger on her lips and motioned Eva to be quiet. Slowly, she slid off the couch, approaching Luce and Andrew on the other couch. Andrew was seated on the further side away from Luce now, rubbing his shoulder indignantly and staring with a half-way open mouth at the projector. Sedra took a seat next to Luce and tentatively, if Luce didn't pull away immediately, drew an arm around her to pull her closer.
Luce:
At first Luce tried to stop herself from crying but after only a moment she gave up. Not only was she too weak to hold the emotion back, she didn't even want to. For once she just wanted to feel something. Suji had been her friend, one of the only ones she'd had in a long time and their relationship was one of the few she had in her life that wasn't muddied and tainted by confusing moral dilemmas and mixed loyalties. She didn't want to just shut Suji out and pretend like nothing was wrong. It would have made her death so much more meaningless because it would have invalidated her life, or at least this part of it.
As she thought that she had to choke back a sob. It was the first time she'd thought of Suji as dead. It had just slipped in past her shield of denial and insane belief that the broadcast wasn't real to take up residence in her mind. Once inside, once she'd admitted it herself, it was so much harder to deny or to push away. It was there, a truth that was painfully close and demanded to be acknowledged and dealt with. Her friend was dead and Luce was very much alone.
She wasn't sure how to deal with that. It wasn't something that she could just push through or push past but at the same time she wasn't sure how she could incorporated that horrible fact into her every day reality. It felt like if she tried it would just end up ripping everything apart.
She had to wonder why this was so hard. She'd seen people die before. She'd killed people before. And it wasn't like Suji had been locked up in some safe tower far away from the war. She was a soldier too, going out everyday and facing the same risks that Luce faced. She had chosen that life and had fully understood what it had meant, at least as well as anyone could really understand. Luce wasn't a naive new recruit. She didn't believe that she'd never die or that this war could be won without a cost. But she realized that she had always expected it to be her that paid it. There were so many people in this world and in this war that were better than her that deserved to live more.
Humanity had been decimated, defeated and enslaved and if they were going to win their planet back they would need people like Luce to fight their war for them, to die for them. But to think that the war was where the struggle stopped was short sighted and, despite what many believed of her especially those who knew the suicide track she'd been on until recently, Luce had never been very short sighted. She'd known that this war might stretch on for years, hopefully not generations, but certainly years. But when it was over, and it would end one day, they would need people who could do something other than fight and kill and destroy. They would need people to help rebuild things, create things. Luce couldn't do that but there were people around her that she believed could. People who weren't so damaged by what they had been through that they could still create things. People who were strong enough that this war wouldn't cripple their spirit.
Cassie was one of those people. It was the reason Luce had followed her so loyally. Maybe Matt, maybe Ember, if they survived that long. But to her at least, Suji had been another. So Luce had always expected that one day, at some battle she couldn't foresee, the choice would have to be made between her own life or Suji's and she would gladly go sacrifice herself for her friend.
But that hadn't been what had happened. That pretty, bright fantasy that depicted Luce finally doing a purely selfless act and helping save humanity and, by doing so, redeeming herself had nothing to do with the truth. The truth was Suji had died in some cavernous hole in the ground far from anywhere Luce could help her while Luce had sat here with an enemy, safe as can be.
And maybe it was that truth that was so hard to accept. That Suji had died and, not only had Luce done nothing to stop it, there had been nothing she could do to stop it. She hadn't even known. She was helpless. And she was selfish. How could she mourn the death of just one person when so many others had died. %100 YPM casualties. Even now there was an animorph out there who was facing the worst fate imaginable for one of their kind. And a whole city might be at risk, free humans, controlled humans and yeerks alike. And all she could do was sit here and mourn the death of one person.
But even as the guilt that she wasn't stronger began to seep into her it was being fought by the strongest desire she'd ever felt to just be weak. For a moment to just be a normal human. To show that it hurt when she was hit. To sit and cry about her own pain and to have someone see it and care enough to want to comfort her. Was that weak? Was it self indulgent?
She got two equally strong, yet opposite answers from herself and she wasn't sure which one to heed. For a moment she wavered between trying to stand up and keep going, do something, go back to the base or something, she wasn't even sure what, and just sitting here for a while. But the decision was almost made for her when she felt Sedra's arms around her shoulders. She made a choice and didn't allow herself to question it again. She just took the comfort that was offered and that she needed when she let the other woman pull her closer.
She didn't know if it was the good thing or the right thing to do and she was sure she would agonize over the decision later. Constantly ask herself if she should have gone. Wonder if she was with Sedra because Sedra helped her take the things she needed that she normally didn't allow herself, or if it was only because Sedra let her do the things she wanted even when she knew she shouldn't. Where was the line between need and want? And was doing something just because you wanted to wrong?
She wasn't sure about any of it but at this moment none of those questions mattered. What mattered was that her friend was dead but her death wasn't going to go unmarked or unmourned and that Luce didn't have to be alone.
Sedra:
There was a faint frown that touched on Sedra's lips, but otherwise her face was clinched in a tight, impassive mask. The reporter's voice kept repeating the same lines, in the same whispered volume, in between the same gruesome scenes. Sedra's attention wasn't on the holo-projector as much anymore, but instead down at Luce. Her free hand moved to brush against Luce's cheek, through her dark hair, attempting to be reassuring. Her other arm held Luce close, feeling the soft shudders of her crying. Her blue eyes lifted to the broadcast.
It was easy to think of your enemy as faceless, expendable, villains. Even more so, witnessing what they were capable of. Standing in the face of a ground littered with the corpses of host bodies, shredded and tattered; Yeerks slithering from their ears, delicate membrane scorched by the dry air. Standing in the face of the kind of terror that they inflicted on others, the destruction that they reaped on the Empire and civilization. Sedra had no pity for the dead human girl. The girl was in the wrong. She always would be.
The Yeerk mindset, existing since the first yeerk wormed their way into the ear canal of a Gedd, was something that had always been deeply ingrained in Sedra. Hosts had no more right to their bodies than an organ had to rebel against the body it was in. On the water-thin principle of 'morality', hosts always railed and resisted and argued against it--yet they strode to deny yeerks the basic simplicities in life. A yeerk was born fighting for their right to life, hardened by that little voice in the back of their head telling them they shouldn't exist.
That mindset still had its tenuous hold on Sedra. The purely selfish part of her was rejoicing internally, happy that a good sized chunk of the YPM enemy had been wiped out. And a possible Animorph capture! No doubt some fortunate Visser was overseeing the infestation now. Some lucky Yeerk was squeezing through the alien ear canal, discovering the wonders of a mind that could morph into anything at the mere thought of it. An Andalite technology simultaneously hated and coveted by the Empire. A definite victory.
Yet, part of her still felt hollow. Luce was in her arms, distraught, saddened, sobbing. Some twist of fate, real or not, had entangled Sedra's life with Luce's. It had brought the Animorph to the Sub-Visser's doorstep the past few months. And despite her first attempts at denying it, she had feelings for Luce. Not Catherine's. Not some muddled feelings leftover for a dead Jals. Sedra's own, knotted into the confusion that was their relationship. An emotion thought by other Yeerks to be disgusting or low. A sign that a yeerk was too tangled up with their host and their host's emotions. Weak. Some didn't think it even possible--and beyond impossible to feel something for a human. They were just hosts. Useful tools, like a computer or a car. Nothing more.
But it couldn't be completely true. Sedra felt bad. Not for the YPM death that had happened, or the capture of an enemy. But that someone she cared about was feeling this way. It wasn't guilt. It wasn't empathy for the Animorphs--never would be. Concern? Sedra turned her gaze away from the broadcast, fingers absently locking a strand of Luce's hair behind her ear. Did you have to be human to care for another being? Did it make you less of a Yeerk? Weak?
Sedra's eyes drifted to Eva. To her daughter. The little girl had managed to close the book that had been abandoned on her lap, and was trying to tuck it under her arm and slide off the couch at the same time. After a few failed attempts, she managed to get one bare foot flat on the ground. Sliding the rest of the way, book in hand, Eva stood on two feet and looked anxiously over at Sedra and Luce. Making a detour around Andrew, who was leaning forward with attention rapt on the projector, she ended up in front of the two women, both hands gripping the Giving Tree book.
Uncertain, Eva stood for a moment just looking up at Sedra. There was a twist in her heart, and Sedra knew that it was from Catherine. Her host's previous struggling had ceased momentarily, as she had been the small push to go comfort Luce. Now, her host was calm, quiet. Staring into the eyes of a child she didn't quite want as her own. The desire to turn to the side and look at Andrew was overwhelming. Eva tucked the book against her side with one hand, then looked over to Luce. Then she leaned forward, wrapping one small arm around Luce's leg in a half-hug, hindered by the book in her arm. She was imitating her mother, sensing something was wrong.
Then the looping video abruptly changed. A low shriek echoed from it, and Sedra's gaze jerked up.
Luce:
[image]
The tape was in the middle of another loop when a shriek of reverb cut through.
“Hello? Oh God, gross, fucking gross.” Along with male voice there was the sound of someone pushing something heavily and soft away from the mic. “I don’t know how long this copy has been playing, but things are changing. Not… not for the better.”
Where the hologram had paused its projection, it renewed afresh, now tossing up clips of buildings burning, and mobs in the street. The footage looked like it’d been shot on foot, and some parts perhaps filmed from a bike ride. Intersections were jammed with traffic accidents, and there were signs of a mass exodus: the direction wasn’t too distinct, from ground level. Others seemed content to rob building in broad daylight, with plenty of witnesses, and no one saw fit to stop them.
“The looting started a couple of hours ago. I don’t know where everyone thinks they’re going. It’s hell down here. People are trying to make it out of the city but… well…”
More projections: Hork Bajir easily cutting through masses of unarmed humans—Controllers or not, it was impossible to say—who were unarmed.
“The Hork Bajir got hit by the virus too though. S’funny, right? I mean, after what the Andalites did to ‘em? Haha!” The laugh was frantic, panicked, and the guy speaking into the mic coughed harshly. “Now… now it’s just a lot of bodies. Bodies everywhere. Some people seem affected faster. Some people ain’t. The sight-” There came a keening tone in his voice, on the verge of a wail, and he choked it down. “The sight’s enough to make a guy wish he was one of the former. Dead early.”
More images rolled: no one, it seemed, had wanted to take their chances dying in their homes. At least, that’s what the footage of downtown Dallas suggested: the street was lined with corpses, and the gutters and dips of pavement were often thick with blood. It pooled up to several inches in the worst places. Smears of it were splashed around just about every wall, tellingly at the height of outstretched hands.
“Fucking… fucking suckers…” He hacked again, but it wasn’t a wet cough, not yet. “News is. News is they’ve already quarantined the entire city. Big fucking invisible cage gone up round it all. No one’s getting out. I guess—I guess that’s the smart thing to do. God fucking Almighty, just look at this place. No one’s getting out. Everyone—everyone with some brains—everyone knows what comes after quarantine. Fire. Fire to clean up the Goddamn mess.”
More footage began to unravel of the chaos in the streets.
“Till then… till then, ladies and gents, I’ll be your host.” He laughed again, high pitched and manic. “Before we’re done the Lone Star State is gonna get a lot more lonely, I can tell you that.”
--Written by Suji
---
Luce looked up as the shriek cut through the room and watched the new images silently as they played out above the holo projector. In some small way they were a godsend. As horrible as they were they allowed her to concentrate on something other than her own tortured feelings.
The video cut out as the reporter on the other end laughed at his own lone star joke. Luce wasn't sure what had happened, if somehow the empire had found a way to cut off the feed or if it would be restored, but she was grateful for the blessed silence. No scenes of blood and gore, death and destruction to interrupt the small bubble of peace she and Sedra had built inside this house. And yet, even though it was gone, she felt like the damage was already done. She wasn't sure if she could look at this place the same way again. The evenings spent here with Sedra and the children would forever be linked to today's events.
Luce reached down and lifted the little girl whose arms were still wrapped around her leg into her lap. "Thank you," she said as she kissed Eva's hair. A few tears still ran down her face but they were quickly coming to a stop. Eva curled up against her side and Luce looked up at Sedra. "Both of you, thank you," she said looking into her lover's eyes. She wondered what this meant to the controller. Yes, the animorphs and the YPM, enemies of the empire, had suffered grievous losses today but the latest broadcast made clear that they weren't the only ones.
Luce put a hand on the arm Sedra had around her, wondering if there was some type of comfort she should be offering as well but before she opened her mouth to ask Andrew spoke up. "Are they..." Luce looked over at the young boy and saw that his face was paler than she'd ever seen it and his eyes were wide and staring blankly past Luce, Eva and Sedra, not at them. "Are they..." he swallowed and a few tears squeezed past his shock, "dead? The people-they-" Luce freed an arm from Eva's grasp, the girl not really needing it to balance on Luce's lap because she was holding on so tightly to Luce and Sedra anyway, and held out a hand to Andrew. He rushed to join the only family unit he had and ended up hugging Sedra more than Luce though Luce was the one holding his hand. In normal circumstances he may have avoided the Sub-Visser but these certainly weren't normal circumstances as proven by the fact that he collapsed in tears and buried his face in Sedra's shoulder.
When Luce came here she often felt like she was stealing time away from those that needed her but right now she felt like there was no one that needed her more than the people in this room.
Sedra:
Sedra was rigid as she watched the destruction flash across the projector, eyebrows furrowed. The projector continued to spew out image after image--humans looting stores, bodies and blood coating the streets. Controllers dead. The images were worse than the first broadcast, and Sedra felt an internal cringe from her host. A virus. She hadn't caught the word before, but she was listening closer now. There had been talk from other high-ranking controllers about a virus being developed not too long ago, something that would make it easier to locate and integrate the pesky free human population into the Empire. It must have gotten out of hand before it was ready. What idiot had let it loose?
Sedra fixed her eyes on the projector as the man began talking again, listening intently to his words. The pure, earlier mirth she had felt was slowly dissipating in the face of all this carnage. It was bad news all around, and she was quickly realizing it. No wonder the broadcast wasn't an official one. A few heads were probably rolling because of this.
<<This is terrible, fuck. All those bodies... All those people...>> The thought from Catherine was weak, like she couldn't believe the images were real. Sedra ignored her comments initially, but her host continued. <<An invisible cage. He's right, isn't he? They're going to kill everyone there.>>
<<The alternative is letting the rest of the panicky fools in that city escape and infect us all. Don't you humans have that sentiment? Kill some, save many? Something akin to that.>> Contempt seeped into Sedra's tone, but her host's reaction wasn't a surprise. Sedra herself was still getting a handle on what was happening.
<<If you Yeerks hadn't fucking developed this thing in the first place, this wouldn't be happening.>>
Catherine's last comment went unremarked, as Sedra didn't feel the need to validate the Empire's actions to her host. The reporter ended the broadcast, and the holo-projector flickered as the report was cut off. There was a heavy emptiness left in the video's wake, and the thought crossed her mind that maybe she should be speaking to another controller about what was happening. This was too big for the Empire to cover-up, unlike the dam incident. Other controllers would possibly know more.
She noticed Luce lift Eva into her lap, and then glanced curiously over at the other woman when she thanked Sedra. Luce laid a hand on her arm, and Sedra squeezed her warmly in return. Then, after a long pause, Sedra began, "I'm..." she seemed to be wrestling with herself, the word 'sorry' just barely forming on her lips. However, Andrew interrupted.
"Are they... dead?" Andrew whispered. Sedra's gaze followed Luce's over to the young boy, seeing the pale shock on his face. Immediately, she felt Catherine's heated reaction. <<He saw. Jesus, you let him watch that whole thing.>>
Andrew was staring past them blankly, an unusual look spread across his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Sedra saw Luce extend a hand out to him in comfort. It only took a few seconds for him to dash over to them, and suddenly Sedra found herself part of his embrace. Right away she stiffened immensely, a muscle jumping in her jaw and teeth clenched in annoyance at his unwanted contact. That reaction faded, however, as she was flooded with Catherine's joy. Every muscle in her body ached to wrap an arm around him, wipe his tears away, comfort him. Her host was fighting viciously for it. Instead Sedra did nothing, feeling him cry against her. She looked to Luce.
Luce:
Luce knew Sedra well enough to see how uncomfortable Andrew's contact made her. Andrew was one of the many things they did not talk about specifically because the boy's presence was living proof that they would not be the only two people present for the conversation. It didn't surprise Luce to see Sedra look uncomfortable. What surprised her was the momentary look of pleading she saw. It wasn't Sedra, it was Catherine. Catherine longed to comfort her son and she couldn't, but the desire was strong enough that it had slipped through even Sedra's iron control.
It made Luce sick to see it and it made her feel worthless just to be reminded that she was part of Catherine's slavery. By not saying anything, by allowing it to continue she might as well have been enslaving Catherine herself. I can't do anything, she lied to herself yet again but she was getting sick of her own lies. If she couldn't be honest with herself then she certainly couldn't be honest with anyone else. She could do something, she had just been choosing not to.
Luce stood up, letting Sedra's...Catherine's arm slip from around her waist. She lifted Eva as she rose to her feet and the little girl transferred her weight so that her head was resting on Luce's shoulder. Eva wasn't crying, she wasn't sure what was going on but that didn't mean that she wouldn't remember the images of the holo projector and have nightmares later. She may not understand death, not yet, but she knew something bad was going on and she certainly understood monsters.
"Andrew," Luce said quietly, holding out a hand to him and he quickly grabbed it and scrambled off the couch, wrapping his arms around Luce's leg instead of the Sub-Visser that scared him so much. "I'm going to take them upstairs," Luce said, looking in Sedra's direction but unable to meet her eyes. "If there is any more coming they shouldn't see it." She paused and wondered if she should say what she'd been about to. It would be so easy to slip out of one of the upstairs windows. Just morph her owl and fly back to the base. The others were sure to need her help at a time like this. No doubt Rian was already wondering where she was. But she was needed here more. "I'll be back in a minute."
Luce walked up the stairs, Andrew following so close that he threatened to trip her. She didn't bother going to Eva's room. She had a feeling that Andrew would not want to be alone and Eva wouldn't mind staying with him. The two had been fairly close in the kid farm and sleeping in separate rooms had been an odd change from the communal barracks. The company would do both good tonight so she just turned into Andrew's room and turned on the light when he hesitated at the door and the shadows beyond it.
"Come on," she said, putting a hand between his shoulders and gently pushing him towards his bed. "Time to go to sleep or at least to bed." He looked up at her, frightened, but he trusted her enough to obey. It was misplaced trust and Luce didn't deserve it. She was helping to keep his mother from him. But letting him know that would hurt him more than her. He needed one parent he could trust and it couldn't be Sedra.
He didn't bother changing into any sort of pajamas. He hardly took his shoes off before climbing into his bed. Socks were thrown over the side only after he was under his covers. He looked down guiltily at the socks on the floor and moved to get up to put them away. Sedra had stressed neatness with both of them but especially with Andrew. Luce sat on his bed, preventing him from getting the covers off so he could move. "Don't worry about it tonight. You can pick them up in the morning." Andrew nodded and Eva squirmed to get out of Luce's grasp so Luce let her go.
"Eva, do you mind staying here tonight?" The little girl shook her head no but out of the corner of her eye Luce could already see Andrew start to bristle with indignation. Was Luce implying that he needed someone to stay with him? God forbid. "Andrew," she said looking up at him, "do you mind looking out for Eva tonigh?. I don't want her to be alone." Luce had just cast him as the responsible one, the older one, the one that could be trusted. It made all the difference. The indignation turned to pride and a little relief and he just nodded too and pulled back the covers on the side of the bed Luce wasn't sitting on so that Eva could crawl underneath. Luce helped the little girl get her own shoes off before she crawled under the covers and curled up next to her brother.
Luce stayed for a moment, looking at both of them. She wanted to kiss them and tell them it would all be ok but she wasn't sure if it would be and she didn't want to lie, not to them. She was already telling too many lies. She settled for briefly touching the cheek of both before getting up to walk out of the room. She turned the light off but she left the door open so that light from the hallway could get in.
Turning away from their door she made her way back downstairs.
Sedra:
"Yes, good idea," Sedra responded quietly. She noted the change in Luce's demeanor, the way she was avoiding her eyes, but said nothing about it. Andrew rushed to Luce, and Sedra felt a sharp pang of pain from her host. The expression on Sedra's face faltered briefly, just briefly, but then regained her normal calm. "Goodnight, Evalynn." The little girl was clinging tightly to Luce as she walked away, head still resting against her shoulder, but managed to free a couple fingers from her mouth to wave a goodbye to her mother. Then, the three of them disappeared down into the darkness of the short hallway leading to the stairs.
In the sudden silence Sedra leaned forward, pressing her forehead against both of her palms. Her host was silent. No railing about the video, no curses or complaints about Yeerk cruelty or stupidity. Just a pained silence, thick with a mother's instinctual desire to protect her children. Her child. Andrew. Lifting her face, she propped her elbow against her knee, her chin against her palm, and stared idly at the holo-projector.
None of these events had surprised her. The virus, the destruction, the forcefield, any of it. All her life, she had grown up with the Yeerk Empire whispering in her ear, been instilled with the absolute certainty of her life as a Yeerk, as a loyal subject of the Empire, a conquerer of Earth and humanity. This was the Empire's decision, this was the consequence of some one else's stupidity and mistakes.
It didn't stop what was happening in Dallas from disturbing her to some degree--all the complete, mindless death. The images. And, she assumed, part of the shock she felt was some aftertaste from her host. Humans were always the ones that got sentimental over these things, even if something was inevitable. However, seeing the images reminded her somewhat of the dam incident--of her shock at the sight of all her Yeerk brothers and sisters floating, belly-up, in a bubbly, boiling soup of their own bodies.
Sedra straightened, withdrew from her train of thought, and glanced back towards the kitchen. The white light overhead buzzed gently, a single moth bashing his head relentlessly against the light's covering. She was tempted to bring out some wine for herself, taste the bitter alcohol and wake up her senses a bit. Maybe even prepare for some late-night call from one of the controllers out at Area 51, excited and frightened about what had happened in Dallas. The bad news, what little of it had leaked through the Empire's vice grip, was most likely spreading like wildfire through the ranks.
Just as she was readying to get up and head into the kitchen, Luce returned downstairs. Sedra gave her a half-hearted smile, attempting to mask any lasting traces of her troubled thoughts. Even then, it was clear from her expression that it was a comfort to have Luce around, even if she always tried to appear like she didn't need any comfort. "Are you alright?" Her last words were interrupted by the holo-projector again, and she twisted back around to watch it.
---
[image]
The projector had been showing footage from a fixed point for quite a while now. The recorder must have been some camera mounted at the top of a taller building in Dallas. From this point smoke could be seen billowing over the landscape: traffic jams had not only wrapped metal around metal, but flames spurted up where fires (grease, oil, and electrical) had sprung up. Down on the ground, masses of people seemed to be moving away from the center of the city -- where the pool was located. Bodies casually littered the sidewalks, piled two and three deep in some places. The sidewalks looked more crimson than concrete: blood covered more areas than it didn't, for yards at a time.
Then, every couple of moments, the camera would shake. It was hard to tell what was causing the tremors, which came more and more frequently. Then, suddenly, a flaming jet flashed across the sky, so close that it blocked most of the view, like a horrible asteroid. The heat deformed the camera's lens, warping it slightly. As the object plummeted to the ground, it became easier to distinguish: a bug fighter, half incinerated, falling from the sky. It crashed into the middle of another sky scraper, which promptly folded in two, and collapsed. The dust from the fall was so great that it was impossible to see a thing for a solid minute or two.
Eerily, there was no external sound: just the camera shaking. More and more ships came down, like shooting stars that ignited everything they touched.
"It's raaain-ing it's pour-ing..." The host's voice was cracked, fading, but there. He let out a couple of slurping, wet coughs. "Fallin' staaars! Make a wish!" He let out another cough, which sounded like it brought up liquid. "They know that flying's the only way out. Them's government ships up there, knocking these birdies out of the sky. Suckers."
Now though, a there was something else. A line, faint, white, shot down from the clouds. It was as thin as a thread, barely noticeable with all the smoke and debris in the air. "What's-"
The thin line widened, glowing so bright it was like staring at the sun. And then it was greater than the sun, blinding the entire area in light for handful of seconds. The camera shook wildly, uncontrollably, and it was a wonder the thing wasn't thrown from its mount. "I'll be damned," the host's voice rattled, throat thick with blood. "I knew they had the balls, but Jesus, Jesus."
When the camera readjusted, the light emissions entering readable levels, there was no more pool. It was cleaner than the dying bug fighters and other spacecraft, more efficient: but the pool was gone. The laser had been utterly precise. It must have been a mercy move: the laser was specifically to make the deaths of the defenseless Yeerks in the pool as quick and painless as possible. Unlike what awaited everyone else.
"And now..." The young man's voice burbled. "Now fire."
Maybe ten minutes passed, maybe ten hours: he'd never be able to tell. He held death off though, for as long as possible. He wanted to see this. Needed to see it. It was -- and he laughed a little at the pun -- the chance of a lifetime.
The camera recorded the fall of the first atomic bomb. It looked like nothing: not nearly as impressive as the falling spacecraft and jumbo jets, which careened out of the air like birds with their wings set ablaze. No, the bomb was just a blip, a pebble, tossed carelessly towards the earth. There would be more: the needed to kill everything, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and the forcefield would keep them from decimating too much of the landscape, or irradiating it too greatly. But for now, it was just this one, as far as the camera saw.
For half a second the tiny, metallic object disappeared from view: passing behind the closest line of sky scrapers. When it hit, there was no transition.
One second, a city was there. A dying city, sure: blistering, pestilent, drowning in its own blood, but there.
The next, there was nothing: a brilliant flash. Static.
--Written by Suji
---
Sedra stared at the holo-projector, finding both her hands gripping the cushion beneath her. She didn't realize that she had been slowly leaning forward, watching as first the bug fighter crashed, then bright white as the Yeerk pool was decimated, then, nothing. Static. Leaning back against the couch, Sedra continued to stare at the holo-projector. It was one thing to talk about something like that. It was another thing to see it.
The holo-projector spewed a low hiss of static, and Sedra lifted off the couch. Moving to the holo-projector, she leaned over and switched it off. She assumed there would be no more broadcasts coming out of Dallas anymore. There was the possibility of an official broadcast, but it wasn't something that would be lost--no doubt the Empire would play something over and over, shading Dallas' defeat as some sort of victory for them, despite what looked like massive Yeerk causalities. They did have a free Animorph--and some dead YPM--didn't they? That was what mattered.
Dragging her eyes away from the projector, her gaze rested on Luce. "They had to do it." There was resolve in her tone, a small defensiveness to her posture.
Luce:
Luce didn't return Sedra's smile as she reached the bottom of the stairs. It pained her to see it, to see the vulnerability that Sedra only allowed her to see. It was proof of how much Sedra had come to trust and care for her during their time together and it reminded her just how much in love she was with Sedra. And yet, it wasn't enough to erase the differences between them. She had thought they could once. Months ago she had hoped they could find a way to be together despite everything but she was beginning to realize it just wasn't true. It didn't matter that she loved Sedra, Sedra was still a yeerk and she was actively enslaving at least one person every day and that didn't account for all the ones losing their lives and their freedom because of the work she did.
Luce had stood by and said nothing, done nothing, but that inaction was killing her and she couldn't maintain it anymore and that realization hurt her almost as much as thinking of Sedra as a slaver did.
"Are you alright?" Sedra asked and Luce let it hang. She didn't want to have to answer her because any answer she gave would start them on the path towards separation and she wanted to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. But as was often the case, the world had other plans.
The holo came back on and began broadcasting Dallas' final destruction. Luce watched the destruction from her spot on the last stair. She had yet to actually step down into the living room, instinctually feeling that the living room floor could easily become the arena that she and Sedra fought in.
One hand gripped the banister and her knuckles were white from the pressure she was exerting but it was her only outward reaction to what she was seeing. When it was over, mercifully over, Sedra's voice brought her attention back to the controller.
"They had to do it." She sounded almost defensive and Luce regarded her silently for a long moment. She had to wonder what exactly Sedra told herself every day. How did she justify even this?
"I know," Luce said, stepping down into the living room. Her voice wasn't tired or defeated. It wasn't even depressed, maybe a little sad but not nearly as much as it should be. Less than a half hour ago Luce had nearly collapsed in grief for one lost friend. Now, she hardly blinked at the loss of life the last broadcast had indicated. It wasn't that she didn't feel it, her days of blocking things out had ended, it was just a tragedy too big to express with tears. The lives that were lost today would have to be properly mourned and honored but not right now.
Right now Luce found herself feeling an overwhelming desire to just go home. It was a deceptive feeling. There was no home for her to go to. The closest thing she had was right here, with this woman, with the children who slept upstairs. This was her home. This was her family. But she could no longer stay here.
"If they hadn't done it then the virus would have escaped and infected us all," Luce said, still avoiding looking at Sedra as she walked into the kitchen to pick up the her personal holo communicator, the one Sedra had given her months ago. She found it in a bowl of loose ends where she had always liked to leave it. The bowl had caught her attention on her first visit here and the small piece of decoration had made her see this place as a home and not just a house.
Luce picked up the communicator and turned around to face Sedra. "Of course none of this would have happened if they hadn't created a virus in the first place." She expected it to sound accusatory, it had been meant that way and that is how it sounded in her head, but it came out in the same almost nonchalant and slightly sad voice she'd been speaking in the whole time.
Luce looked down at the communicator. It was her link to Sedra and to the life they had begun to build together. A life they had to keep secret from both of their communities. A life they had to be ashamed of. Luce was tired of being ashamed and of lying to everyone, especially to each other. She looked up and walked over to Sedra and silently held out the communicator.
"I need to go. My faction will need me...I won't be coming back." Her voice shook slightly as she said the last and her hand wasn't completely steady either. She wished she could look away from Sedra but she forced herself to look her right in the eye as she said it. It may be painful but it would have been cowardly to do anything else. If she was telling Sedra she was leaving then she'd face Sedra's reaction. "You should take this back."