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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Tobias just doesn’t get a break. (I feel like I’m saying that a lot recently).

This time around, the Yeerks are working on an anti-morphing ray. And the Animorphs really don’t want them to think that works (despite the fact that… they would really want to try it more than once. Or, despite the danger… on Visser Three).

But there’s an obvious answer. Who’s morph could they shine just about anything on and never get them to ‘de’morph?

Tobias.

It’s actually kind of brilliant.

Makes up a bit for the tone of the rest of the book. Man there are evil even by Yeerk standards in this book.

A good one.

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That’s… a really strange story. And hard to talk about without spoiling the main conceit, which they at least seem to want to keep semi-hidden.

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It’s an odd one to pair with The Reunion. In both cases, we have an Animorph with a family member controller. In both cases, it’s too close to home. But Marco made the call–even if it’s going to tear him up later to do it.

Now it’s Jake’s turn.

You know what Marco and I used to talk about? Whether Batman could beat Spiderman. Whether Sega was better than Nintendo. Whether some girl would rather go out with him or me.

And now . . .

“What are we, anymore, Marco? What has happened to us?”

He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to. We both knew what had happened.

Man these books get dark.

That’s one reason I like them. They don’t get into everything, but they really do get into enough.

<Interesting,> Ax observed. <Bearded, white-coated creatures with hooves. And horns. Grazers. I would point out the similarities between the mountain goat and Andalites, except for my extremely disappointing experience with the cow.> (The Experiment)

And so Marco’s mom is back–and after the mess of The Decision, she’s not Visser One anymore. But if anything, that means that she hates Visser Three all the more… and would stop at nothing to get back at him. Even if that means allying herself with the ‘Andalite Bandits’.

Marco of course deals with this in a perfectly reasonable and level headed manner.

“What do you do when you have to make a decision, and each choice is horrible? What would you do, Rachel? If it was your mom or dad or sisters. What would you do, Xena?”

…

Rachel came back and sat beside me on the bed. She didn’t hug me. Rachel’s not a hugger. But she sat there with me.

“One battle at a time, Marco. One battle at a time.”

It’s an intense book and man I feel for Marco. Tobias and Ax are really going through some stuff, but they’re only sort of human any more. Of the remaining Animorphs–well, I think that it’s Marco that’s gone through the most. And this book certainly doesn’t go easy on him.