The Andalite Chronicles

It was a long, boring trip. We came out of Zero-space halfway between the orbits of Earth and a planet Loren called Mars.

We had to travel through conventional space. And we had to keep our speed down so as not to distort time too much. If we’d gone to Maximum Burn all the way to Earth, we’d have gotten there in a few hours. But on the planet, years would have passed. That’s relatively for you.

I had little to do. Alloran brooded alone at the helm, or else went to his quarters. And Arbron seemed to have found some project to keep him busy. He spent his time at the computer, muttering.

It was a side of Arbron I’d never really seen. Mostly he never seemed to take anything very seriously. At least he never took me seriously. But now he was spending days at the console.

Whenever I asked him what he was doing, he’d just say, <Unraveling a mystery.>

So I spent most of my time with the two humans. Or at least with Loren. Chapman was as brooding as Alloran. I stood beside Loren at the window, and looked out at the blue and white planet.

Loren did a thing she called “sitting.” It’s funny to see at first. But of course very practical for a two-legged creature.

“The brown-and-green parts are land,” Loren was explaining. “The blue is ocean. Water. See the bright white at the bottom? That’s ice. It’s called Antarctica. It’s very cold.”

“Water. Just frozen water.”

<Ah. Of course. That would make sense. And where do you live?>

“Well, see that continent there? The one on the upper left part of the planet? See where the line between night and day is? Almost right on that line.” She bit her lip. A lip is a mouth part. “My mom must be dying from worry. I’ve been gone for four days already.”

Dying? Humans could die of emotion? <Yes, but soon you will be home. Then she won’t worry anymore. Maybe she won’t have to die.>

Loren smiled. “That’s just an expression.”

Then I noticed that there were glistening drops in her eyes.

“Do you have a mother at home? Does she worry about you?”

I felt a little uncomfortable talking about my parents. An aristh in deep space can’t start getting all homesick. Especially since Prince Alloran was nearby, able to overhear everything.

“We just had a war,” Loren said. “That’s … that’s what happened to my dad. He was in it. He didn’t get killed or anything. But he kind of … I don’t know. After he came back I guess he couldn’t cope with reality. So he left.”

I saw Alloran’s stalk eyes swivel to look at Loren. It was practically the first time he’d even noticed her.

<You have wars?> I asked. <But you don’t have space travel. Who do you fight?>

Chapman arrived then, having arisen from a nap in his quarters. “We fight each other,” he said. He winked one eye. “So, Loren, Daddy went nutso, huh? Another whacked-out ’Nam vet? I guess some guys can’t take it.”

Loren’s eyes went wide, and then she turned on Chapman.

But it was Alloran who spoke. <Have you been in a war, human?> he asked Chapman.

“Me? No. Of course not. That war’s over.”

<Then be quiet, fool. Those who have been to war understand. Those who have not have no opinion worth hearing.> He looked directly at Loren. <Even those who return from war may never really come home.>

Alloran turned his stalk eyes back to the helm, and said nothing more. Chapman shrugged, but I could see he was intrigued by Alloran.

So was I, to be honest. What was he talking about? I’d never heard of an Andalite warrior coming back from the war unable to cope, as Loren had put it. Or “whacked-out,” as Chapman had said. Why would Alloran feel such sympathy?

“Anyway … ,” Loren began, “tell me this. When you erase my memory, I won’t remember any of this? Not even you?”

I didn’t answer. What could I say?

“It’s okay, I’m not mad at you,” Loren said. “You’re taking us home. And you saved us from those Skritchy Noses.”

<Skrit Na,> I corrected.

“I know. It was a joke. Maybe not a very funny joke, I guess.”

<Ah. Humor. Yes, Arbron does that sometimes.>

“But not you?”

Loren tossed her head in such a way that her long golden hair shimmered very nicely. “That’s okay. I like serious guys. I guess if my memory is going to be erased, it won’t hurt if I ask questions. So. How come you don’t have mouths?” she asked.

Chapman seemed to snap out of a reverie. He’d been looking at Alloran. Now he joined the conversation. “Loren, how can he answer that question? He doesn’t have a mouth. We do. Why do we have mouths? Stupid question. I have a better question.” He looked closely at me, focusing first on my stalk eyes, and then back down on my main eyes. Like he couldn’t make up his mind where to look.

“Look, Elfangor, maybe we got off to a bad start, you and me. I wasn’t in a great mood, you know? But hey, you guys are really missing out on something here. Do you have any idea how much money we could get for this technology on Earth? I mean, you could ask for anything!”

It was my turn to laugh. <What would we do with Earth money?>

He shrugged. “Okay, forget money. How about power? We could snap our fingers and have all the presidents and prime ministers on Earth waiting on us. We could rule.”

<We’re Andalites,> I said, <not Yeerks. We aren’t interested in ruling other species.>

“Ah. Well, that’s good, I guess. Yeah, that’s a good thing. But we could bring peace to Earth. No more wars.”

<Okay. That’s it. That’s it. Elfangor!> It was Arbron. He’d been totally absorbed in staring at the computer display. He’d barely spoken for the last two days.

I went to him. I was glad to be away from Chapman. He bothered me. He was completely different than the human Loren.

<What is it?> I asked Arbron as I came to stand beside him. I looked past him to the computer display. It showed a power field, lines of intensity in three dimensions. But it also showed lines extending strongly into Zero-space.

It was impossible. A simulation of some sort. A fake.

Arbron turned only his stalk eyes toward me. <This is from the Skrit Na ship. From the computer download. It was encrypted, but I broke the code. I’ve been going through the ship’s log. A bunch of stupid stuff, mostly. Junk. But yesterday I found this. I’ve been trying to figure it out, because, see, there’s no way these sensor readings can be right. But now I think I’ve got it. I know what it is.> He turned all the way to face me. <Elfangor, I think this is real.>

For several seconds we both just stared at each other. <This can’t be,> I said. <Any first-year student could tell you this is impossible. Unless …> I felt a chill run up my spine. <Alloran! Prince Alloran! Sir, you should see this.>

The prince turned away from the helm and trotted back to us. <What is it, arisths?> he said wearily. But then his stalk eyes focused on the screen. A second later he was staring with full intensity at the image there. <Computer. Cross-check for any visual files!> To Arbron and me he said, <They would have made more recordings!>

And then it appeared. It simply appeared on the computer screen.

It was perfectly spherical. A simple white sphere.

It looked harmless, even dull. And yet it was the most dangerous, deadly weapon any race had ever created.

Because of what it was, it could not be physically destroyed. But it had been hidden. As we watched, dumbfounded and afraid, the computer replayed the Skrit Na computer log.

It had been hidden on the planet called Earth. It had been buried deep in the ground in a desolate-looking area of blowing sand. And a huge stone pyramid had been raised over it.

Hidden for fifty thousand years.

Hidden on an insignificant planet at the far end of the galaxy. And now it had reappeared.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you guys?” Loren asked. “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

<The Time Matrix!> Arbron said.

<The second Skrit Na ship!> I yelled, suddenly realizing the truth. <The Skrit Na dug it up. They have it aboard the second ship, the one that escaped into Zero-space!>

I looked to Alloran. To my surprise, his eyes were alight with fierce pleasure. <The Time Matrix! Hidden for fifty thousand years, and now dug up by the Skrit Na. The deadliest weapon in all of galactic history … and no one but us to go and get it back.>

It was as if Alloran were suddenly ten years younger. <Elfangor! Arbron! Get back on that Skrit Na computer log, both of you. We need to know where that second ship ran to! Now!>

He turned to Loren and Chapman.

Arbron looked at me and sent me a private thought-speak message.