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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 said.
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,
A terrible spectacle was unfolding below. In the parking lot of a McDonald’s a grizzly bear was terrorizing a group of humans.
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.
d.
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.
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 told Estrid. We quietly made our way out of the hole in the barn roof, and took wing.
Estrid said.
Her voice was skeptical.
She sounded arrogant and vain.
Like me.
We were approaching the ship. I looked to where a red-tailed hawk soared high overhead. Above a large grackle.
We flew through the hatch. Demorphed and returned to the command deck.
Arbat clopped into the room.
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 said.
Gonrod nodded.
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?
Just a saying.
Gonrod told me to touch nothing. Nonetheless, I approached the access unit on the main console.
Estrid’s four eyes had been on the control panel when she programmed in my access code. I had watched her fingers.
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.
Fwapp!
A tail blade was pressed hard against my throat.
I lied.
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.
Aloth slouched against the console.
Aloth looked intensely at me.
Aloth laughed his cynical laugh.
I took a step back.
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.
He laughed. Surprised.
A coward and a murderer. Both Andalite officers. Were these “my own kind”?
The assassin shook his head.
I did not have anything to say to that. But I had a question.
Aloth laughed again.
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.
Gonrod said.
Aloth handed out shredders. When he gave Arbat his, Aloth said,
Arbat answered coldly,
The Arrival Page 5
