The Alien

Give me liberty or give me death.' A human named Patrick Henry said that. I wonder if the Yeerks knew before they came to conquer Earth that humans said things like that. I wonder if the Yeerks knew what they were getting into." -Aximili Esgarrouth Isthill

Humans have very odd tastes. They think their music is beautiful. They are wrong. It is awful. All of it. And they completely ignore their greatest accomplishments: the cinnamon bun, the Snickers bar, the hot pepper, and the refreshing beverage called vinegar.

You act like a normal human and you’ll win an Oscar,” Marco said. He led the way up to his house and opened the door. “Okay, look, you wait right there by that table. Don’t go anywhere. If my dad comes in and talks to you, just say ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ Got it? Yes and no answers only. I’ll run up to my room. I’m gonna call one of the others to meet us at the bookstore. You’re already driving me nuts.” I stood by the table. There was a primitive computer on the table. It even had a solid, two-dimensional screen. And a keyboard! An actual keyboard. I touched the keyboard. It was amazing. Andalite computers once had keyboards, too. Although ours were very different. And it had been centuries since we’d used them. On the screen of the computer was a game. The object of the game was to spot the errors in a primitive symbolic language and correct them. Of course, before I could play I had to make sense of the system. But that was simple enough. Once I understood the system, it was easy to spot the errors. I quickly rewrote it to make sense out of it. I said to myself. “Hello?” I turned around. It was an older human. He was paler than Marco, but other features were similar. Marco had warned me to say nothing to his father but “yes” and “no.” “No,” I said to Marco’s father. “I’m Marco’s dad. Are you a friend of his?” “Yes.” “What’s your name?” “No,” I answered. “Your name is ‘No’?” “Yes.” “That’s an unusual name, isn’t it?” “No.” “It’s not?” “Yes.” “Yes, it’s not an unusual name?” “No.” “Now I’m totally confused.” “Yes.” Marco’s father stared at me. Then, in a loud voice, he yelled, “Hey, Marco? Marco? Would you . . . um . . . your friend is here. Your friend ‘No’ is here.” “No,” I said. “Yes, that’s what I said.” Marco came running down the stairs. “Whoa!” he cried. “Um, Dad! You met my friend?” “No?” Marco’s father said. “What?” Marco asked. Marco’s father shook his head. “I must be getting old. I don’t understand you kids.” “Yes,” I offered.

Are you with us?” Prince Jake asked. I said. “Don’t call me ‘Prince.’” I said again.

A famous human named Rolling Stones said that.

Are you done?” Prince Jake asked me. “Yes. I am fully human.” The sound delighted me. It’s an amazing talent, this ability to make complex sounds. “Human. Mun. Hyew-mun. Human. Huh-yew-mun.” “Um, Ax? Don’t do that, okay?” Prince Jake said. “What? What-tuh?” “That. Where you play with every sound like it’s a new toy.” “Yes, my prince. Not a toy. Toy! Toytoytoytoy . . .

Here, just take the box,” Marco said. He handed me the box of popcorn. I quickly ate the rest of it. “Not the box!” Marco wailed. “You don’t eat the box!” “It tasted of salt and grease,” I pointed out.