What if–instead of walking through that fateful construction site…

The Ellimist and Crayak/the Drode are at it again. Giving Jake a chance at a normal life.

But all is not as it seems…

“Oh, I see it now, I see it now,” the Drode said, ignoring Marco, ignoring all of us. “Subtle as always, Ellimist. Your meddling came before, didn’t it? How could we not have seen it? Elfangor’s brother? His time-shifted son? This anomalous girl here? And the son of Visser One’s host body? A group of six supposedly random humans that contains those four! You stacked the deck!”

“Did I?” The Ellimist laughed. “That would have been very clever of me.”

You know? So far as justifications for the coincidences that make stories just work–that’s actually a sneakily good one. The Animorphs are talented and more than a little lucky. But all along, someone (something?) has been stacking the deck to help them.

I like it. More than I expected.

Onward!

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An Andalite on TV! Almost right on the heels of The Arrival. Bit weird that.

It’s an interesting look into Andalite preconceptions though:

<No. The Yeerks would have no use for his body. He is completely useless as a host.> Ax waved his frail hand in a dismissing motion.

And… is directly contrary to the idea that your original body doesn’t heal (mostly recently in The Hidden.

So… how does the DNA know your age? Or current haircut? Or if you got a tattoo? Or the progress of a genetic disease–even if the disease is in your DNA, why is the damage has already caused.

In any case, it’s an interesting look into another portion of Andalite society.

Also, we get:

Tobias glared. <Okay, I’m getting a complex over here. I’m a nothlit. A freak. Whatever. My best friend is an alien with blue fur. My girlfriend is human - when she isn’t in morph. How about we don’t talk about “normal” anymore. Or “average” or “natural.” Please.>

It’s an interesting book.

Helmacrons. Not my favorite when they showed up in The Suspicion, not much better now. At least it’s only their tech though–the ability to track morphing energy… and the blue box.

An interesting enough plot, but there’s a spoilery twist (see below) that … I just didn’t think worked. it didn’t quite work with the established world building and I doubt will be used again.

So it goes. Onward!

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The Andalites have arrived!

Sort of.

Things go well.

Rachel whirled around. Her face red with anger. “I’m through taking orders from you,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m through with Marco and his stupid jokes. I’m through with Cassie’s hypocrisy.”

Cassie took a broom from the corner and began to sweep up the glass. “Count me out, too,” she said softly. “If this war is unwinnable, how do we justify killing Hork-Bajir? Basically, they’re prisoners of war. Innocent victims.”

Marco thrusts his hands into his pockets. “Guess I’m out, too. I’m going to enjoy what time I’ve got left. Acquire a surfer dude chick magnet. Hang out.”

It would be nice to meet some fine upstanding examples of Andalite society.

Today… is not that day.

It’s a solid story. It’s a nice contrast to Ax’s earlier conflict between his people… and his people.

Oof. Two in a row I don’t overly care for.

This time around, we have Jake out of town…

<A vote,> Tobias said. <It’s the only way.>

Marco snorted. “Beautiful. Let’s see. We’ve got Rachel’s best friend and her bird-friend and Ax isn’t voting . . . forget it, man. I’m out.”

Marco turned to me and bowed. “Congratulations, your highness. Your wish is my command.”

And for some reason Rachel steps up. I don’t mean to agree with Marco too strongly here… but this is a bad idea.

Hit and run, almost get killed, learn a lesson.

And away we go!

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Okay, just how many alien (and otherwise) species are there on the Earth?

Well, at lesat one more…

At some point, it seems we have to do every possible historical weirdness. Which this time involves Atlantis. And it’s every bit as weird and fishy as you might expect ’the Animorphs do Atlantis’ would be…

“Look, I don’t know about anyone else, but I believe in listening to my instincts. And my instincts are saying, ‘You’ve done enough, Marco. Go home. Play with the stupid poodle. Do some homework.’”

“I get the same feeling, Marco,” I said. “But we almost got killed trying to take out the Sea Blade. I don’t want a rematch. I want it sunk. I want to know it’s sunk.”

It’s… not my favorite. Weird worldbuilding that should have a lot more impact and/or repercussions than it does. Could have been skipped.

Let’s take a quick break from all the Animorphs I’ve been reading recently and instead talk about the Phoenicians again.

I mean NUMA/Kurt Austin.

But they even call it out in the book, ’the Phoenicians again'.

Really, this book is kind of hilariously on point when it calls out it’s own weirdness. We have a big bad:

The big man with the face like an evil baby.

And the other big bad later saying:

“I have no intention of taking over the world like some James Bond villain.”

Uh huh. Sure now.

Other than that, the plot is interesting enough. I’m not sure if I like or not how many of these books are tied together (all about pre-Columbian contact and the Phoenicians). It’s interesting, I’ll give them that. But the additions of new (weirdly named) secret societies, secret messages, and hidden gold mines? I’ll take it.

And more Thomas Jefferson than you can shake a stick at. It’s not James Bond, it’s National Treasure.

It’s a decent enough story, but I think Lost City and Polar Shift may have spoiled me a bit. Onward!

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Told from the point of view of Visser One (former and, for the moment, current). On trial, in front of the Council of Thirteen themselves.

I spoke to the holographic representation of the Council. Thirteen Yeerks in various host bodies: Nine Hork-Bajir, two Taxxons, and two whose host bodies were so concealed that I could not guess at their form.

They were dressed in dark red robes, so dark that they were almost black. They stood, motionless, held in place, suspended by gravity-neutral fields, fed by a continuous refined current of Kandrona rays.

The Hork-Bajir-Controllers wore a lightweight mesh beneath their robes to keep the wrist and arm blades from slicing through the robe’s fabric.

The two Taxxon-Controllers were bloated, monstrously inflated versions of the great centipedes. Both were attended by Gedds, ready with freshly killed meat to feed the eternal hunger that not even a Yeerk inside that feverish brain can control. Their ceremonial robes were as large as sails, wrapped around the raised front third of their bodies.

They were light-years away, of course. They would see me, my host face and body in three dimensions. They could also watch my vital signs, translated into universal equivalents. Blood pressure, heart rate, hormone production, all reduced to digital readouts a billion miles away. And they could, with a thought, call up whatever data had been compiled on specific events or locations or individuals.

I really do enjoy the worldbuilding here and I’m a bit sad that this is about as much as we’re going to get about the Council.

Still, it’s yet another interesting point of view. Especially when you add in Visser One’s testimony–the backstory of how the Yeerk invasion of Earth actually began.

Tentatively I reached toward the far side of the brain. I touched it. Made contact.

Fascinating!

It was incredible. This second half of the brain was an almost mirror image, but not. It could have functioned all on its own, if necessary, and yet it was in some ways radically different in its memories, its sensory interpretation, even its will. Two almost entirely functional brains in one skull, communicating across a channel of nerves. Not a fully redundant system, almost a second, different brain!

I don’t know if it’s more interesting to think that humans are weird like that (and that is weird) or that seemingly no other species is!

I enjoy all of the Animorphs Chronicles. This is no exception.

My name is Marco.

But you can call me “Marco the Mighty.” Or “Most Exalted Destroyer of My Pride.” You can cower before my mighty thumbs and beg for mercy, but you’ll be crushed just the same.

For I am the lord of the PlayStation.

Pick a game. Any game. Tekken. Duke Nukem. NFL Blitz. Whatever. Practice all you want. I’ll still beat you. I’ll crush you like Doc Martens crush ants.

A bit dated, but not terribly so. I do like Marco’s points of view.

Of course, then things go wrong (otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a book, now would there?):

My arms! They weren’t becoming wings! What was happening? I felt them stretching out in front of me. The skin on my hands turning brittle, like armor. Fingers merging, becoming two barbed claws.

Something was wrong!

My face . . .

A pinprick on each cheek! Two long whisker-like hairs sprouted outward. Instinctively, I swept them in front of me, gauging the wind, the temperature, sensing my surroundings.

Antennae? Birds don’t have antennae!

Dim eyes. Pincers. Antennae.

Lobster?

I was half-osprey, half-lobster?

A useless combination of mismatched parts.

It’s a standard ‘discover a high powered Yeerk that’s going to ruin everyone’s day, so let’s take him down’ sort of plot. This time with more TV personalities. And a secondary plot of Macro’s dad moving on, which–given the storyline of The Conspiracy and the upcoming VISSER–is complicated at best.

<Ooookay,> Jake replied. <That could have gone better. Guess it’s time for Plan B.>

<Someday when this is all over people will ask us about the war against the Yeerks,> Tobias said. <Let’s leave this part out>

Another good one.

Especially with…

“Marco, if you’re there, pick up.”

My mother.

To be continued in . . . Visser

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<An Arn, on Earth? Here? Why? That’s the question. What’s he up to?> Rachel wondered.

<He had to come. Star Wars: The Phantom Menace isn’t coming out on DVD there for, like, two years. He buys up a bunch of copies here, takes ’em home, makes a fortune.>

<Good grief, Marco, you live science fiction, why do you want to watch science fiction?>

<Don’t be dissing TPM,> Marco said.

So… the Arn. Like I said The Hork-Bajir Chronicles was among my favorites of these books, so following up on that storyline is pretty cool. Especially the the Animorphs getting a chance to go offworld entirely.

And hey, let’s bring back the memory implant of Aldrea (the Andalite from the Hork-Bajir Chronicles, Seerow’s daughter) for good measure. Of course bringing back the dead to the source of some of their worst possible memories (although best too I suppose) can’t possibly go wrong…

It’s a neat book. Bit weird, but I liked it. I hope something comes of it, but if it does, I don’t remember from last time I read these books. We shall have to see!

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