Except for the fact that it was in an underwater building.
And of course there was the fact that in Dilbert’s world there aren’t Hork-Bajir standing guard.
I could see two of the big aliens. Seven feet tall. Blades growing out of their wrists and elbows and knees. Feet like tyrannosaurs. Snakelike heads topped by two or three forward-raked horns. Spike-tipped tails.
Each had a Yeerk in its head. I’d met some free Hork-Bajir. They were kind of sweet, despite their deadly looks. But these were Hork-Bajir-Controllers, of course. And the humans were human-Controllers.
In the second blister window I saw nothing but a single room. In it were a desk and a couple of chairs. And nothing else.
I shot to the surface to blow out and refill my lungs. The others followed. All except Ax, whose gills let him breathe underwater.
We hung around on the surface for a few moments. I wanted to look around and see the normal world, I guess. Feel the air.
Tobias said.
It was Ax. He was still down under.
But something told me to ask for more details.
It took a few seconds for me to process that word picture. A large fish with a dorsal fin and a head that … My dolphin heart stopped beating.
We drove down beneath the surface, and there they were: hammerhead sharks.
There are times when I really admire Rachel’s reckless courage. But there are other times when I just want to slap her. We had fought sharks before. We had won, but it had been a close call. Very, very close. And there were more sharks this time.
The sharks came on, straight for us. They came on like well-trained troops. I had a sudden, vivid flash of the searing pain when they’d bitten me once before. They had bitten my dolphin body almost in half. The lower third of me had been left hanging by a few shreds of flesh and some guts.
I have been afraid many times since becoming an Animorph. But this was bad. There are few things as horrifying as watching a shark come at you. Knowing he intends to eat you.
Four more hammerheads were rushing toward us from behind. Fourteen sharks in all. More than two to one against us.
Jake had already given the order to retreat. But that’s not why I did what I did next. What I did next came out of sheer terror.
I ran away.
I powered my tail and took off at right angles to the two groups of sharks.
But I was already moving. And I didn’t even care. I was scared. I could feel those shark’s teeth ripping my flesh in my memory. I could feel it like it was happening right now.
I powered away. The others were close behind me, but I was definitely leading the way.
Cassie said.
The two groups of sharks saw us trying to escape and changed course to cut us off. They were fast. Not as fast as us, maybe, but fast.
The shark groups converged. They were hammer and anvil and we were in between. We raced. They raced. Too late! Two of the big hammer-heads cut me off.
I turned on a dime. All around us! We were surrounded. Fourteen sets of jaws. Hundreds and hundreds of triangular teeth, each as sharp as a knife.
It was a good tactic. But I had a feeling about these sharks. Something was very wrong about them.
Jake launched himself at the closest of the monsters. The rest of us followed. Five dolphins and one tiger shark, all churning the saltwater, heading for one unlucky shark.
It happened too fast for the others to react. And I guess the shark we were targeting had gotten cocky. He was too slow to run. Jake slammed the shark with his snout. I was next, ramming the shark with every ounce of momentum I could muster.
WHUMPF!
The impact stunned me, disoriented me. For a few seconds I couldn’t see straight. I was aware of the others all hitting the shark in rapid succession. Blood began to billow from the hammer-head’s gills. It darkened the water.
But something was wrong. The other sharks didn’t attack the wounded one. Blood like a waving silk scarf floated in the water and the sharks ignored it.
Instead, they came after us. It was like they’d had a signal between them. They deliberately moved all at once. They planned.
I knew I was going to die. And worst of all, I knew exactly how it would feel.
The injured shark continued spewing blood into the water. The other sharks continued to ignore him.
And the attack was underway!
We did as he said. We sidled in close together, and on Jake’s signal we shot straight ahead. We were one big dolphin fist.
But the sharks were already reacting. They had figured out our plan. They were rushing to cut us off. I glanced back and saw that they had left a rear guard just in case we turned around.
Impossible. The sharks were acting together. Like a pack of wolves. And they were plenty smart about it.
More and more of the sharks had managed to get themselves in front of us. We were closing in on them, and they were closing in on us. I could see individual teeth as they opened their mouths in greedy anticipation of dolphin flesh.
Then I had a flash. A flash of inspiration born out of pure terror.
Inches from
the rows of ripping teeth, we turned and headed up. I rocketed for the surface.
FWOOOSH! Out of the water we came.
PLOOOSH! Down we came. But we came down on the other side of the row of sharks. They turned to chase us, but we had gained several feet on them.
We hauled. The sharks came after us. And unfortunately, we were aimed away from shore out into deep and deeper water.
Then …
Scree-EEEE-eeee-EEEE-eeee-EEEE-eeee!
It was a siren, just loud enough to be heard with acute dolphin hearing. If I’d been human I doubt I’d have heard it at all. But instantly, without hesitation, the sharks turned around and swam away.
Cassie expressed my own personal feeling at that moment.
But like an idiot I said,
Rachel said.
Naturally, Rachel agreeing with me convinced me I was obviously wrong. But it was too late. We all sucked in a deep lungful of air and went down.
Not twenty feet below us was a submarine. But not a submarine any human ever built. It wasn’t all that big, I guess, although it seemed like it when it was right below us. It was shaped like a stingray. It had downcurved water wings on either side. And at the back was a cluster of what looked like three engines, each a twenty-foot-long fattened cylinder, like a comical cigar.
But what was insane about the sub was that about three-quarters of it was perfectly clear. Except for the engines, and occasional tools, implements, and furniture inside, it was a glass submarine.
We could see directly into the sub. I saw three decks, all transparent. It looked like the crew, a mix of human, Hork-Bajir, Taxxon, and Gedd, were all just calmly walking and sitting and standing in the water itself. Plus moving by at a good twenty miles an hour.
At the front of the sub was what had to be the command bridge. There were Hork-Bajir and Taxxons working at red-and-yellow computer terminals. And in the center of the room was a chair. It reminded me of Captain Kirk’s chair on the original Star Trek.
Standing beside the chair was a bizarre creature. It had pebbly yellowish skin that seemed slimy, like it was coated with Vaseline. It sat like a frog on big hind legs with webbed feet. But instead of a frog’s tiny front legs, this creature had four tentacles spaced evenly around its body.
It had a big head that just sat on its shoulders with no neck. The face was curved outward, with a hugely wide mouth that seemed frozen in a sort of idiot grin. There were two eyes, both brilliant green and large.
As the sub passed beneath us, this creature seemed to shake, like he was having just a slight tremor. I saw him turn around to face us as we receded behind the sub. He gazed at us with his blazing green eyes.
The person sitting in the captain’s chair must have said something. Because the frog thing sort of looked troubled, then shrugged in a very humanlike gesture.
The person in the chair stood up. She stretched. She turned around and looked up. Right at us. Right at me.
And I swear I had to stop myself from saying,
The sub blew past without making a sound. The sharks fell in behind it. And the sub, its occupants, and the sharks all disappeared into the hologram of a nice, normal seabed.
I had homework to do when I got home. Tons of it. I was supposed to do a book report, among other things, and I had to have it in by Monday. Five pages. And my English teacher doesn’t respond well to five pages of babble and baloney.
I said hi to my dad. He asked what I wanted to eat for dinner. I said, “Anything but fish.”
“Pizza?”
“No anchovies. That’s all I’m saying.”
I went upstairs and found the book I was supposed to read. It was under a dirty sweatshirt I’d thrown on my desk. I looked at the cover. Lord of the Rings. It was three books long and each of the three books was as long as three books. I only had to report on the first book, but even that was impossible.
“What was I thinking, choosing a book this long?” I moaned.
Of course, I knew the answer. I was supposed to have started reading it like a month ago. I flopped down on my bed and placed my headphones over my ears. Then I pulled a pillow over my head. I fumbled blindly for my remote control and hit PLAY.
Reggae. Some good old classic reggae. Bob Marley. I’d bought the CD at a point when I was considering growing dreadlocks. Never mind why. Okay, it had to do with this girl at school.
“Bob Marley, mon,” I said. “Help me out, mon.”
Bob didn’t help. Bob was singing “No Woman, No Cry.” And that translated way too easily in my head into “No Mother, No Cry.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Let’s just wallow in self-pity.”
I was not feeling good. No one had called me a coward. Maybe no one had even noticed the way I’d bolted. But I had.
I could come up with great excuses for being so scared. I was the only one who’d ever been chewed almost in half by a shark. And that was a pretty good reason to feel afraid.
But nothing changed the fact that I had run away.
And that feeling was crowded in my head with a whole ton of emotions about seeing my mother.
It was a terrible thing when my mom died. Or at least seemed to die. But as awful as death is, at least there’s an end involved. You know what has happened. It makes sense. An awful kind of sense, but sense.
You meet other people who have lost mothers or fathers. You turn on TV and see stories about people who have lost parents or brothers or sisters. You read it in books. In newspapers. The counselors at school have a category for you, and they tell you things that are supposed to help.
You hate it, but you belong to a group of people like yourself.
But what group is there for people whose mother isn’t dead but is a slave to an alien presence in her head? What group do I belong to when I realize that what looks like my mother is actually someone who would kill me without hesitation?
I guess it’s what Jake feels everytime he sits down to dinner with Tom. I guess he feels the same way I do. Only Jake and I don’t talk about that kind of stuff. Jake’s my best friend. But he’s my best friend because I’m me, you know? Because I’m funny and smart and I’d back him up anytime, any place.
I mean, what am I supposed to do? I’m me, Marco, not some touchy-feely, share-your-feelings-with-the-group kind of person. I don’t share feelings, I make people laugh.
I have a picture of my mom next to my bed. I look at it every night before I go to bed. I can never decide what I want to see when I look at it. I don’t know if I see the mother I lost, or the mother I want to rescue somehow. I don’t know anymore.
I construct little fantasies in my head. Of how I’ll get her away from the Yeerks. And I’ll keep her locked up for three days until the Yeerk in her head dies from lack of Kandrona rays. And she’ll be my mom again.
“And then what, Marco?” I ask myself. The Yeerks won’t take it lying down. You can’t just starve Visser One to death and take her host body and live happily ever after. We’d be hunted. We’d be hunted for as long as there was a Yeerk left alive on planet Earth.
And if the Yeerks ever did catch up with my mom and dad and me, they’d know I was an Animorph. And then they’d figure it all out and the others would be done for. Jake, Rachel, Cassie, Tobias, Ax …
“I am way too young to have to deal with this kind of stuff,” I yelled into my pillow. And then I pulled the pill
ow away from my face.
My dad was standing there, framed in the doorway of my room. He mouthed the words “I knocked.” And he did a little pantomime of having knocked.
I yanked the headphones off. “Oh, hi. Um, hi.”
“Sorry. I just came to see if you wanted to watch the game with me.”
“Oh, yeah. The game,” I said. “Um, I guess not. I have homework and stuff.”
“Oh. Okay.” He started to leave. Then he turned back and said, “You know, Marco, you can always talk to me.”
“Oh. Sure, Dad.”
“I mean, if there’s anything going on that’s bothering you.”
It was a nice offer. My dad’s a nice man. I’d like to grow up to be as good a man as my father. But you know what? Right then, dark suspicion was seeping into my mind. Why was he interested? What did he suspect? Was my father one of them, too?
“Nothing’s bothering me, Dad. I was just … um, you know, singing along with the music. It was a song lyric.”
“Ah. Okay. Well, I’ll call up to you when the pizza gets here.”
He left, shutting the door behind him.
“Nice world you live in, Marco,” I said softly. I could trust my father and maybe end up dead. I could try to help my mother and maybe end up dead. And as a bonus I could get all my friends killed and doom the entire human race.
I looked at the book I was supposed to read. “That ain’t happening. Not tonight.”
And I thought about my father, sitting down in the living room and turning on the game. Who knew if he was my father any more than my mother was really my mother?
I couldn’t really trust him. I couldn’t go downstairs and spill all my problems out for him.
But you know what? I could sure go sit with the man and watch the game. I could do that.
“Those were not normal sharks,” Cassie pointed out. “Somehow they were being directed. Controlled. They worked like a pack. Sharks don’t cooperate.”
The Escape Page 4
