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My name is Rachel.
It’s from the Torah: Rachel was Jacob’s cousin and his second wife, which is kind of weird since my cousin’s name is Jake. Why on earth would our parents make that choice, I’d like to know. I sometimes think it’s a little unfair that there isn’t a girl’s version of Jacob, because I think I might have preferred that. Jacob is the guy who wrestled an angel of the Lord, and even though he didn’t win, he didn’t exactly lose either. I think that’s pretty cool; he fought an unwinnable fight and got beat up pretty badly, but the sun rose the next morning and he was still there. I feel like that’s something I can relate to, a bit.
I can’t tell where the sun is, right now. We’re in the shadow of the moon, I think, but that’s basically a guess since the spaceship has no windows. How long until morning? And more importantly, how many of us are going to live to see it?
We’re all in separate cages, because unlike everyone we’ve fought before, this Visser Six guy is smart enough not to put all of his prisoners together in one place. But I can see almost all of my friends, my fellow soldiers, all huddled down like I am and trying to keep warm in the skimpy clothes that pass for our uniforms.
“They’re human.” This tall, imposing woman Controller seems to be the Visser’s second-in-command. “All but two. We never would have guessed.”
Visser Six snarfles something unintelligible. Hork-Bajir aren’t designed for human words. The woman understands, of course; the Yeerk inside the human speaks Hork-Bajir, and the human speaks English. Instant translator.
“We don’t know, sir. Humans and birds do not naturally possess the ability to morph.”
More grunting. Next to me I hear Marco mutter, definitely too softly for anyone else to hear, “That’s what you think. Wait til you find out about our elite troops of morphing sparrows. Then you’ll be sorry.”
“They’ll be a really huge help to us here in space,” I mutter back. Marco snorts with hysterical laughter, and then bangs his elbow into the bar of his cage to cover it up.
“Silence!” the Controller orders. She listens to Visser Six for a minute longer, then nods sharply at two of the other human guards. “We will interrogate them. Take the smallest human, size indicates age and physical resilience.”
My blood goes cold. Cassie is the only one of us under 5’5”. And it’s not true, about physical strength or whatever, Cassie can pitch hay in the barn for hours, but if they’re talking physical that means torture. And I’d rather die than let my best friend go through that.
I stand up, surprised that my cold and cramped legs let me make the motion swift and strong. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Touch any of my friends, and I’ll swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
I expected it to come out sounding terrified and desperate, the way I feel. Instead the voice that comes out barely even sounds like mine: it’s cold and calm and deliberate, chilling in its fury. And I realize it’s because I’m telling the truth. If they hurt her, I’ll kill them. All of them. It’s not a threat; it’s just a fact.
The Controller looks at me and her face is as icy frozen as my voice. “I believe we have a volunteer.” I kind of knew it was coming, and I can’t tell if the quietness inside of me is relief, shock or terror.
“Rachel! Rachel, God, don’t!” Sometimes I feel like I scare Cassie more when I’m brave than when I’m afraid. I don’t want her to feel guilty about this. I don’t want her to feel like it’s her fault.
“Take me instead. Take me!” Come on Jake, are you stupid? You can’t go. They need you to get them out of here.
It’s my job to be the reckless one, the strong one. The one who can take it. Weirdly, I imagined that it would be harder than this. I’m scared, but it’s a kind of far-away fear, and every time it tries to pull me back it comes up against the hard, unmovable wall of ‘If not me, one of them.’ And that’s something that just isn’t going to happen.