Gonrod’s eye stalks quivered angrily.
Estrid appeared to have no idea she had committed a breach of military conduct.
I watched unhappily. I hated to see her rebuked.
Strangely, Gonrod did not do so. <Very well,> he answered curtly.
<Come, Aximili,> she said happily.
I followed her to the exit hatch. The Earth hour was late. The Gardens were closed. There were no humans to watch us disembark and descend to the ground on the cloaked ramp.
Still, I was uneasy.
Estrid was beautiful. She was a well-trained fighter.
But she was no soldier.
Who was she?
In the daytime pigeons and squirrels crowded the walkways of The Gardens.
But at night the sidewalks are clear. There was no sound except our eight hooves clopping slowly along. Normally I might have worried about security personnel spotting us. But of course Estrid knew nothing about this. And I was confident that we would not be bothered.
<Arbat says Earth has more variety of species than any other known planet. When we scanned DNA patterns for you the computers were nearly overwhelmed.>
<Tell me about Arbat and Gonrod,> I said.
<Arbat says Gonrod is an excellent pilot. And that Aloth scored the highest target impact rate in the history of the academy. Arbat says he’s a top sniper.>
<Arbat says.> Again.
Suddenly, I understood. How could I have been so obtuse?
Estrid was Arbat’s niece! Of course. That was what Aloth had been hinting.
Arbat might now be a professor of technological history, but he was still Apex Level Intelligence. He whipped a big tail at the War Council.
No wonder Estrid was allowed so much license.
Estrid’s four eyes looked to me. <I wonder …>
<Yes?>
<The pellets called jelly beans. I would love to taste them again before leaving Earth.>
<I believe we could find some pellets close by.>
Side by side, we trotted through the cool, dark night toward the main building. The Visitors’ Center. Outside the building was something Jake and Marco called a “vending machine.” A large glass box containing delicious foods.
No cinnamon buns or jelly beans. But many other things that would delight Estrid.
I turned and delivered a kick to the machine. Brightly colored packets fell from hooks inside the machine down into a bin into which I was able to reach.
It was probably not a good thing to do. Humans are very touchy about ownership.
<What are they?> Estrid asked.
<You will enjoy them,> I promised, beginning to morph to human.
Estrid’s eye stalks receded into her skull. Her legs and arms retracted. She lay on the ground, a round ball of blue-and-tan fur.
The fur disappeared and became smooth and pink. Then, with one burst, the round ball became a human. Fully clothed. In what humans would consider normal clothing.
I was amazed. I had never seen such an efficient morph. And the ability to morph something other than skintight bicycle shorts and T-shirts took almost supernatural powers of concentration.
“You are an estreen … nuh,” I said.
“My mmmmmother … ruh. She was a morph … ph dan … dancer … ruh! Dancer-uh. I learned much from herrrrr!”
I opened one of the packets and poured the contents into her palm.
She popped them into her mouth and her face began to glow. “Bright pellets … ssss. Wonderful … ful-luh. Jelly beanssssuuhh. More. More.”
I poured the rest of them into her hand. “Not jelly beansuh. M&M’s. The flavor is called chocolate. Chock-lut.”
She laughed. “Mouth-speaking is very amusing. Uh Mew Zing.”
“Yes, mouths are very interesting. M&M’s. Chock-lut. Watch this …”
I stuck out my tongue and let it rest lightly on my upper lip. Then I blew out my breath. “Thhhhbbbbbbbbbbb!!!”
Estrid shrieked with laughter.
I did it again. “Thhhhbbbbbbbb!!!”
“What does it mean?” she gasped.
“It is called a raspberry,” I said. “I do not know why.”
“It would be very hard … hard-duh to have a mouth all the time. Tie-yem. Time-uh. It would be very difficult to concentrate on a plintconarhythmic equation for more than two minutes. One would be too busy tasting chocolate and making rasp … berries … suh!”
“Thhhhhbbbbbbb!” The vibrations made my lips tingle.
She leaned close, watching my mouth intently. So close I could feel the tendrils of her human curls tickling my face.
“They have another use for mouths,” I said.
“In addition to eating and making mouth-sounds?”
“Yes. Would you like to experience it?”
“Is it pleasurable?” she asked.
I shrugged my large human shoulders. “I do not know. I have never performed the action before. It requires two individuals, each possessing a minimum of one mouth.”
“Let us experiment. Ment. Expeeeeriment.”
I took Estrid’s face in my hands and I pressed my lips against hers.
I have no words to describe the sensation.
It did not tickle the mouth or cause my lips to tingle.
It caused a chaotic flutter in my stomach. Small bumps broke out up and down my arms. I only had one heart now, but it thundered.
I pulled away.
“That was pleasant,” Estrid said. “But not as pleasant as chocolate.”
“No. But pleasurable,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
Later, Estrid and I flew through the night. Side by side. This, too, was pleasurable.
I almost wished we could spend the rest of our lives like this. Together. Free. No more war. No more duty. No more fear.
It was possible. If we remained in morph beyond two hours, we would become nothlits, like Tobias. We could go where we would never be found.
Not by the Yeerks. Not by the Andalites. And not by the Animorphs.
For one brief moment, I considered it.
<Where are we going?> she asked.
I remembered the way she had looked at me as we kissed. With admiration? Trust? Some other emotion?
We could simply fly away. We could become something or someone else. Life would no doubt be simpler. Life would be a matter of life or death, survival or failure, simple, black or white choices.
But in reality life seldom comes in simple shades of black and white. The choices in the real world, the choices we most often face, are all in shades of gray. And I lived in the real world.
<I would like to see my old friends once more,> I said.
<Why?>
<We were together through more battles than I can count,> I said. <They are no longer my comrades in arms. But I am not indifferent to them.>
<Loyalty is admirable,> she said.
<Yes. It is,> I said dejectedly.
We flew over town toward the barn. Over the mall. Past the school. Over a cluster of stores and restaurants. I took my time.
Then, <Oh, no! Estrid, circle down with me, but remain at a safe distance.>
A terrible spectacle was unfolding below. In the parking lot of a McDonald’s a grizzly bear was terrorizing a group of humans.
<It is Rachel,> I told Estrid sadly. <The angry one.>
The teenagers ran screaming into the restaurant.
Rachel lumbered through the parking lot.
BLAM! BLAM! CRASH!
One by one, she bashed in windshields and windows, slammed foot-deep dents into the sheet metal. Horns and alarms wailed.
Whooo-OOP! Whooo-OOP!
SKKareeeeee!
Rachel raged through the restaurant door.
The people inside screamed in terror. Broke windows. Poured back into the parking lot.
<What is she doing?> Estrid asked. <Are those human-Controllers?>
<The restaurant is managed by a human-Controller,> I answere
d. <I do not know about the other humans. I fear her destruction is indiscriminate. Prince Jake would never have allowed it.>
I saw someone else come out of the restaurant.
Cassie.
She ran into the shadows and disappeared.
Moments later, an owl emerged from the darkness and swooped into the sky.
<Hurry.> We followed Cassie from a distance. She flew back to the barn.
Estrid and I flew quietly through a hole in the roof and perched on a beam where we could watch without being seen.
Marco lay on top of several bales of hay. He was drinking a soda and reading a magazine.
“Marco!” Cassie cried, in human form now. “You’ve got to help me. Rachel’s going totally postal at McDonald’s.”
“Not my problem. Me, I like Burger King.”
Cassie snatched the magazine from Marco’s hands. “She’s going to kill somebody.”
“What’s it to you? I thought you were out of this.”
“We can’t just stand by while innocent people get hurt.”
Marco shrugged. “Speak for yourself.”
“Where is Jake?” Cassie demanded. “He’ll help me.”
Marco took the magazine from Cassie’s hand and reclined again. “Don’t count on it.”
“Why? Where is he?”
“I’m in here,” a voice answered.
Cassie peered over the door of one of the stalls. “Jake! What are you doing there?”
Prince Jake’s head emerged. “Hiding. Tom’s been picking on me all afternoon. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Then fight back!” Cassie cried.
Marco snickered. “Whoaaa! What happened to our resident nonviolence advocate?”
“Shut up, Marco!” she yelled. “Jake! Are you going to help me or not?”
Two grackles in the rafters attacked a third, driving it away. Jake jumped and dove back down into the stall.
“Not.” Marco smirked and continued reading.
“What about Rachel?” Cassie cried, her voice breaking.
Marco yawned. “Listen, if she shows at the beach tomorrow, I’ll talk to her. Now, why spoil her fun?”
Cassie stood for a moment, shaking with fury. “YOU JERKS!” she screamed. “GET OUT!”
<I have seen enough,> I told Estrid. We quietly made our way out of the hole in the barn roof, and took wing.
<I pity you, Aximili,> Estrid said. <How did you endure it? How could you bear to live among such inferior creatures?>
<They have fought well in the past. But they are demoralized by the prospect of certain defeat.>
Her voice was skeptical. <Perhaps. But no Andalite would behave so. Even in defeat, we are proud.>
She sounded arrogant and vain.
Like me.
<That is the third time tonight I have seen that fierce-looking bird with the sharp beak!> Estrid said.
We were approaching the ship. I looked to where a red-tailed hawk soared high overhead. Above a large grackle.
<Earth has many species of birds,> I reminded her. <And each species can have hundreds of thousands or even millions of members.>
<It looks familiar.>
<Birds all look similar,> I said.
We flew through the hatch. Demorphed and returned to the command deck.
<Where have you been?> Gonrod demanded.
<We went to look over the target site after touring The Gardens,> Estrid told him. No mention of the barn.
Arbat clopped into the room. <What did you learn?>
Estrid and I drew a simple map of the Community Center. Then Gonrod ordered us to get a good night’s rest. We would attack the next morning.
<I would be honored to keep the first watch,> I said.
Gonrod nodded. <Very well. But touch nothing.>
The crew left the deck and disappeared.
The deep humming of the engine and atmospheric adjusters thickened the silence. I was free to think now.
I thought about Estrid. Her grace. Her intelligence. How much I enjoyed watching her in bird morph. How much I enjoyed kissing her in human morph.
I smiled, remembering her delight over the M&M’s.
Then my breath caught in my chest.
I had missed something. Something important.
Probably because of my feelings for her.
“It would be very difficult to concentrate on a plintconarhythmic equation for more than two minutes.”
Plintconarhythmic physics!
Cutting-edge biochemical engineering. Even Andalite intellectuals do not attempt to learn its elegant but complex formulae and postulates.
They say that no one really understands it. It requires thinking coherently in n-dimensions. It is the plaything of geniuses.
Why would Estrid be concentrating on a plintconarythmic equation?
<It means nothing,> I told myself. <It is a saying. A pleasantry.> Like when Marco says that something “isn’t exactly rocket science.” Or when Rachel sneers that someone is a “regular Einstein.” Just a phrase to illustrate Estrid’s point that taste can be distracting.
Just a saying.
Gonrod told me to touch nothing. Nonetheless, I approached the access unit on the main console.
I would use that code now.
I pulled up the stats on the ship. Estrid was right. An old MSTL-37. Obsolete for scientific research and pressed into service as a medical transport for the wounded and dead in the last two wars.
I tried to call up the personnel records.
A green light began to blink. <ENCRYPTED DATA! AVAILABLE TO APEX LEVEL CLEARANCE ONLY! ENTER CODE.>
Fwapp!
A tail blade was pressed hard against my throat.
<Spying is a capital offense.> Aloth.
<I am not spying.>
<Then what are you doing?>
<I have forgotten much,> I lied. <I was trying to familiarize myself with the workings of the ship.>
He released me and I let out a long breath of relief.
His stalk eyes perused the screen. He saw the message. His eye stalks slowly turned back toward me. <Trying to familiarize yourself with the ship? Or with your comrades?>
<Both. I would not regard that as spying.>
Aloth slouched against the console. <So. It has begun to occur to you that you have fallen in with a bad crowd? Eh, brother of Elfangor?>
<I am simply curious.>
Aloth looked intensely at me. <I trained for a while under your brother. Different from most princes. Most of them … it is almost as if life has never handed them anything but easy grazing. But Elfangor … he had lived. You could tell. He had seen things.>
<Yes. He had.> I did not know what else to say. I did not trust Aloth’s intensity. The assassin was a dangerous person.
Aloth laughed his cynical laugh. <You want to know the secrets? You want to know who we are? I will tell you, little Aximili. You know what I was doing before I “volunteered” for this mission?>
<No.>
<Sitting in military prison. Life sentence.>
I took a step back.
<Do not fear me, little aristh. I am no danger to you. My crime was that I had no use for hypocrisy.>
<Hypocrisy is not illegal.>
<Not all hypocrisy,> he agreed. <If it were, what would we do for leaders? They would all be in jail. Now me, I was caught selling organs. Off the battlefield. They are of no use to the dead, right? Why should someone not make use of them? And why should I not receive something for my trouble?>
The Andalite Battle Code prohibits the selling of organs off the battlefield. It might encourage the less scrupulous to hasten a comrade’s end. Or cause it.
A crack shot and a sniper could ensure a steady supply of organs. No wonder he had been sentenced to life.
I was careful not to let my disgust show.
<Yes, you see, Aristh Aximili, I am not
a hero of the people. But at least I am not a coward.>
<Are you saying I am?>
He laughed. Surprised. <You? No, I meant Gonrod. He was in the same prison as me, though he faced a lesser sentence. His crime was cowardice under fire.>
A coward and a murderer. Both Andalite officers. Were these “my own kind”?
<We were offered the promise of pardon if we successfully completed this mission,> Aloth continued.
<And what about Arbat?>
The assassin shook his head. <As far as I know, he is here to assassinate Visser Three. Gonrod is a coward, but an excellent pilot. His job was to get us here in a substandard ship. Mine is to kill Visser Three if Arbat can get me close enough to do so. With your help Arbat may succeed. Meaning that I succeed.>
<I see. That makes sense.>
<Does it? I am not sure anything makes sense on this missions.>
I did not have anything to say to that. But I had a question. <Aloth, who is really in command of this unit? Arbat? Gonrod? Or is it you?>
Aloth laughed again. <Sometimes, little aristh, I think it is the female.>
<Prepare for landing,> Gonrod instructed.
Our ship hovered over the park. Cloaked, of course. For the last hour we had watched people arrive.
Visser Three’s limousine had pulled up to the entrance five Earth minutes earlier.
The ship’s sensors had probed the building and given us a map of the Center’s interior layout, including one extremely large meeting room.
The sensors had even located what we believed to be yet another entrance to the Yeerk pool. A room that seemed to have no floor. No finite measurable depth.
<I remind you our mission is specific and limited,> Gonrod said. <Aloth and Arbat, go in through the south door. Stop any guards before they raise the alarm. Aximili and I will do the same at the east entrance. Both halls are long. Any disturbance will not be heard in the main meeting room.>
Aloth handed out shredders. When he gave Arbat his, Aloth said, <You know, Professor, if you get there before me, you can do the job.>
Arbat answered coldly, <If I do, I will.>
<Shall we make a wager on it?>
<No. We will do better than a wager. I will kill Visser Three. That is an order, Aloth. You will stand by unless I fail. Is that clear?>