The Visitor by K. A. Applegate Page A

said enthusiastically. “Bring it to me. I will come to collect it at the nearest landing site.”
    “Visser, what if it … Owww! … What if it resumes its Andalite shape?”
    “You have weapons. If it tries to remorph, kill it.”
    “Yes … Ahhhh! … Rotten little beast! Yes, Visser. I will go directly.”
    “We will deal with this Andalite bandit. And bring the girl, too.”
    “The girl … Melissa?” Chapman asked.
    “I have been indulgent too long. This Andalite spy has penetrated your home. It is because of the girl. I have already chosen the Yeerk for her. Bring her with the Andalite. Obey me, Iniss Two-Two-Six. Or prepare to face the Vanarx.”
    Visser Three’s hologram disappeared. Chapman suddenly threw me across the room. I twisted in midair and brought my legs around for the landing. I hit the floor and skidded.
    
    By the time I was up, Chapman had reached his desk and opened a drawer. His bloody hand came out with a small pistol-like device I had seen before. It was a handheld Dracon beam.
    Chapman leveled the weapon at me. He was shaking. His face seemed to be twitching. The weapon jerked a little with each spasm. But I knew he would still have gotten me if I had tried to move.
     Jake demanded.
     I said.
     Jake asked.
    
    
    
    Chapman opened the door a crack. “Get down here! Now!” he yelled upstairs.
    I guess he saw my eyes flick toward the door. He made a fierce, vicious grin. “Try it, Andalite. Go ahead and try it. I’d love the excuse to fry you.”
    I decided not to head for the door.
    “You’ve made life very difficult for me,” Chapman said. “Very difficult. If I have to let Visser Three take the girl, my host will make life annoying for me. Do you know how tiring it is to have an uncooperative host? No, of course you don’t. But trust me, Andalite: I will gladly kill you.”
    Ms. Chapman appeared at the door. “What is it?”
    “This cat is one of the Andalite bandits in a morph. Visser Three wants him. Get me the cage we use to take him to the vet.”
    Ms. Chapman nodded and disappeared.
     Jake asked.
     I said. I was feeling utterly defeated. Because of me, the Yeerks were going to take Melissa. I had failed. I had made a mess of things.
    Ms. Chapman brought the cage. She opened the little barred door.
    “In,” Chapman snapped.
    I didn’t move.
    “In,” he said in a cruel whisper. “In or I’ll finish you right here.”
    He looked like he meant it. I walked into the cage. Ms. Chapman closed the door and made sure it was locked.
    Chapman snatched up the cage and carried me to the top of the stairs. “Now,” he snapped at his wife, “go get … ungh!”
    Peering through the slats in the side of the cage, I saw him stagger. His face was twitching like he was a crazy man. He seemed to be having a hard time getting control of his mouth. “Go … get … the … girl,” he said through gritted teeth.
    Ms. Chapman started to obey, but then Chapman cried out.
    “Oh! Ungh!” He fell to his knees. “He is … urgh … he is … fighting me….”
    “Host rebellion,” Ms. Chapman muttered under her breath. She seemed horrified and fascinated all at once. Then, suddenly, her left hand slapped her own face.
    “Ahhhhh! Mine … mine … too.”
    “Stop it, Chapman,” Chapman said. “Stop it or I’ll break you! I’ll leave you nothing but a shell! You cannot win. No host has ever succeeded in rebelling!”
    But the Chapman host wasn’t giving up.
    It was terrible. Terrible in a way