… stalk-eye view …

Let's state something right at the beginning. I do not believe in mythical
creatures like the Ellimist. He was a historical person, yes, but no being
with special powers. Just an ancient Andalite like all the rest. A great
leader who had brought the people ahead, and a great person. But now he's
been resting in the good earth for many millions of years.

I had heard him since, but that doesn't prove anything. We had been out in
open, ice-cold space -- soon I would have seen a tail blade against my
forehead, too. An oxygen-deprived brain can cause such illusions.

And anyway, it was days after I could last trust my senses. Where would I
be if I believed everything brought to my mind these days? I don't believe
it, and I pay Esplin back dearly for it every single time. Let's just say
I have my ways for that. It's all just mind games, nothing more.

So it should be clear that where Crayak is concerned, I have enough
mass-murderers on my mind without believing in him as well. The same goes
for the miserable Drode. And no matter how he is turning, turning, turning the
facts around, I do not believe in Tila Fashat's so-called spell, either.

Yes, there is a trend. A very sad trend. And I don't know what causes it.

But this trend began at the Yeerks' very first attack. Where I had been the
only survivor out of five. Though the other four would have deserved to live
at least as much.

It was unfair. It was terrible. It was years before Tila Fashat even knew I
existed.

So the recent events are not her doing, either. There had been an informed
decision on the yellow-haired being's part.

Because that being is real. It exists. I'm quite sure of that.

I don't know about the rest of the scene. But I don't think it was a
nightmare. I've never really had either nightmares or dreams, but nowadays I
wouldn't even have time for them. I spend three days on guard, three hours
unconscious, and repeat.

And I don't think it was the result of Esplin's imagination, either. But
not because he showed the same disbelief -- and then terror -- as I felt.
That could have been an elaborate act to make it seem real to me. But I
still don't think it was one of his fantasies -- it was much too tame for
that.

It could be that we had crossed over into some parallel universe of
mythological creatures -- though honestly, I don't know who could even
think of such a thing. But whoever it is, she must have a very rich
fantasy life.

So I have truly no idea how Crayak, the Drode, the whole driftball field and
all the other illusions came to be there. But I know that the yellow-haired
being was no illusion. It was a real person, from ordinary, everyday life.

And it had made its decision on its own. An informed decision. The situation
had been stated clearly enough.

"...Visser One, I desire to test the strength of my new creation. You will
fight. To the death. If you win, Visser, Earth belongs to you. If my creature
wins, you and your band of slugs will leave this planet. Immediately."

I didn't know which would have been worse for Earth. I couldn't know the
evilness of the "new creation". But I knew the alternative quite well.

And I knew what would have been best for me, personally.

But I don't think the giant being would exactly have needed my help
against Esplin. The power relations were pretty evident to both of us. By
then, I had already spent a long enough time lying on my arms, on the wet
floor.

But you know how Esplin is. Can't admit defeat. He still tried morphing --
first a Sumarin, then a Lazhel. But no use: the yellow-haired one was better
at morphing, too. It became something that ate Lazhels. I don't know what in
this galaxy eats Lazhels, but that creature managed to. I wish it would have
done it right then, when it still had its rage.

But Esplin demorphed, and escaped temporarily. But only temporarily, he saw
it now. The creature had become its giant, yellow-haired form again...

< This is not a fair competition! This creature cannot be defeated!>

No, it couldn't. It would still kill us. And, given the circumstances, I
didn't think that was the worst that could have happened.

< Crayak! Surely you see that this is unjust. You can't mean for me to die
like this!>

It put one of its hands around my neck. This would be it.

"Finish it," I heard.

It would be over. And Earth would be free, at least of the Yeerks. This
would be best, for everyone.

< Spare me!>

The yellow-haired one opened its hand, but closed it again. It was clear
what it would do. Thank the good earth, at last.

< Spare me, Crayak! I will carry out your orders. Give me the powers you
have given this creature, and I will do your bidding, whatever it is.>

"Finish it. Hurry," was all I heard.

My daughters, Jahar...

But they, too, knew it would be better for me this way. They wouldn't need
to grieve. And they'd be so much safer than before...

< Mercy. Please!>

< I am the servant of the people...>

"Finish it! What are you waiting for? Finish it or I will change you to a
rat again and you will lose everything! Do you hear me? Everything!"

The creature's grip tightened. It wouldn't be long now.

"Yes. Finish it. Free the earth from tyranny. And then..."

"No."

I dropped to the ground, air rushed into my lungs again. I lay there without
moving, my hooves four ways, my eyes fixed onto the giant. Waiting for
another mythical being to break Tila's spell. Break this insane trend.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm one of the good guys."

This one of the good guys could easily have freed this planet. But
evidently, its own precious moral superiority mattered more to it.

"You are a fool! You are a coward. You are weak, sentimental, childish..."

Yes. Yes.

I'd known people who wouldn't kill potential hosts, or Controllers, or even
Yeerks in their natural form -- but us?! The Abomination?! What loss would
the two of us have been?!

"...I have tried to help you free yourself from useless human emotions, but
you choose captivity instead."

Back on my hooves. Among the torture equipment. The visserial residence.

"Human emotions"? That creature had been some sort of a human?

Esplin was trying to sort himself out. To hope it had all been a nightmare.

He was also trying to fix the powerful giant's every detail in his mind. He
enjoyed the idea of such power. I think he was pretending to be the giant.
He bent my arms and fingers in such a strange way. Esplin likes to play
pretend.

He was making other good use of our memories, too. Replaying them in my
mind. He's got this method where he doesn't have to feel them himself.

I saw Crayak's human for the second of what would probably be many times.
I saw nothing I hadn't seen before, but now I could pay better attention to
the details. I wanted to know what human it was that could have done this,
and I could speculate to my hearts' content. Esplin almost never reads my
thoughts anymore -- he's no masochist, after all.

The giant was most likely female, you can tell that with humans by their
silhouette. And the most important clue was her yellow hair. In this part of
the planet, not many humans have hair that light. But there are still a few.

I looked for other clues. The female was taller than average. Her face was
youthful, and she had blue eyes...

The voluntary Taylor!

I don't know how she had come into a decision-making position. Maybe her
Yeerk had completely identified with her by now, or maybe she'd been freed
some way. But this doesn't matter.

What matters is that Taylor, voluntary servant to the Yeerks, had betrayed
her people's freedom in order to keep their appreciation.

Nothing special. She'd done it before.

So this is how it happened. And Tila Fashat had nothing at all to do with
it.

But I think the Andalites would love her story, if they knew of it. It would
give them the perfect excuse for their cowardice. That they haven't been
able to kill one visser for more than three sevenyears.

Three sevenyears, and nothing's changed. They're all still waiting for
someone else to do the dirty work.

But unfortunately, I'm not available anymore.

…. chapter 26….

I was looking at myself in the broken shard of mirror.

Rachel of the darkness down deep inside. Rachel with the dark heart.

That was me. My heart was me, the real me.

The darkness down deep inside was me. All the rest was simply my conscience.
It was rules and morals that had nothing to do with me.

I had my dark heart, and then I had the habits I've picked up. The
meaningless imitation of other people's goodness.

I'd grown up among good, kind, loving people. I automatically acted and
thought and felt like them. And I'd always believed I was one of them.

For a long time, I had hardly noticed the darkness in me. And later --
already during the war --, when it surfaced, I still hadn't known that was
the real me.

Even when I had split into two, I had thought both Rachels were a part of
me.

They weren't. Mean Rachel had simply shed the emotions that weren't her own.

Caring and compassion weren't a part of her. But fear of herself was.

That was the only reason I had let Visser One escape. For fear of myself,
for fear of what I would become.

That was the only reason I was scared of killing David.

That was the reason I was so scared now. It scared me that I was just rage
and hate and the will for power, and nothing, nothing more.

But Tobias! I still had Tobias! And then I had to be something more than
that, didn't I?

Yes. I still loved Tobias. And I loved Mom and Jordan and Sara and Dad, too.
And Cassie, and Jake, and all my other cousins. Even Marco and Ax. And I had
Melissa and many other friends.

I loved them genuinely. Not by following some irrelevant rule. It wasn't
just that I *should* love them -- I did love them.

Because morals were irrelevant to me, but people were not.

I loved them from all my heart. Not from my conscience. But from my dark
heart.

I was Mean Rachel, yes. But I could still love and be loved.

I was not one of the good guys. But I could still do the right thing.

I'd do the right thing about David, now. Not the right thing for my
conscience, but the right thing for everyone.

What was the right thing for the resistance? To get rid of David, one way or
another.

And what was the right thing for David?

He was telling me that very clearly.

So I raised the broken shard of mirror above him.

And David thanked me, the way they thank truly good people.