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159 pages, Paperback
First published July 1, 1997
<My name is Alloran-semitur-Corrass, and you must kill me, young aristh.> The Randalite and former host of Visser Three, body weakened by the venom as his mind was obviously weakened by a lack of will that allowed the Yeerk to take it over, could not stand on his own. He was weak, and therefore he was useless.
<Yes.> I had nothing but contempt for the older Randalite before me. <For you stand in the way of my obtaining what I truly desire. You cannot help me, and so I have no reason to help you.>
My tail twitched and severed Alloran’s head from his pathetic body. I had briefly wondered what I would feel when I killed one of my own people. Then I realized that was irrelevant. Sentiment had little place when considering how one could best achieve one’s goals. Alloran was weak. I am strong.
Later, Cassie would approach me to discuss these ideas. Of all the humans, she is the one least suitable to living in the perfect society these humans will achieve if they prove strong enough to throw off the shackles of the Yeerk oppressors. Prince Jake has it within him to be a great leader of men, if he can only actualize his self-worth. Rachel understands the need to take what is not offered. Even Marco, beneath his callous veneer of humour, is aware that the objective nature of reality around us means that one must always accept what happens and act accordingly, rather than rejecting events and living in a fantasy of the past.
Cassie said, “You must be sad you had to kill Alloran. He was once a proud warrior of your people, was he not?”
<He was a war-prince. But he lacked the strength and core moral character to succeed.>
“Did no one try to help him when he was taken by the Yeerks?” Cassie and her father run a primitive medical facility where they treat injured members of lesser species on Earth. Her father does not even charge the fair market value for this service! Sometimes, I wonder if Randalites and humans will ever truly be able to co-exist. Despite the greatness of a few individual thinkers in this species, many of them are weak and clamour for hand-outs and “support systems.” It boggles the mind, that an entire species could be so lazy.
<To help another person is to make them weak!> My tail quivered in anger, and a thing rose in me. How could Cassie not see that? Had she already been corrupted by the vile collectivist Yeerk philosophy? I steadied myself, then launched into a six-hour lecture on the nature of individualism and its triumph over collectivism—the benefit of thought-speak, obviously, being that I would not have to pause for breath, and Cassie would be unable to ignore my words of wisdom.
Books are an amazing human invention. They allow instant access to information simply by turning pieces of paper. They are much faster to use than computers. Surprisingly, humans invented books before computers. They do many things backward.
“Ax, you don’t stop hoping just because it doesn’t always work out,” Cassie said. “You get more careful. You get wiser, maybe. But you keep hoping.”
