The Unknown

by K. A. Applegate

  "Horses. Hore-hore-hore-sezuh," Ax said.

  Marco spread his hands wide, palm up. "Is that it, Ax? Or was there more to your comments?"

  "Horses are quadrupeds," Ax said. "Much more sensible than walking around perched on two rickety legs like humans do. Rickety. Rick-kuh-tee. Is that a funny word?"

  "Yeah, 'rickety' is hysterical," Rachel said. "So, where do we find six different horses for us to morph?"

  «The Gardens?» Tobias suggested.

  I closed the fox's cage and wiped my hands on my jeans. "All they have at The Gardens are exotic horse breeds. We want horses who look like horses."

  Mentioning The Gardens reminded me of the

  75 sign-up sheet at the base. Should I mention it? No, it probably wasn't important.

  "How about one of the farms around here?" Jake suggested.

  I shook my head. "Everyone around here knows me. If they walked in on us . . ."

  "The racetrack," Rachel said. "They have tons of horses out there. Usually a couple of dozen, at least. I've gone there with my dad. Last weekend, in fact. That's his idea of a cool place to take his daughters on visitation day."

  "Did he let you bet?" Marco wondered.

  "My dad placed it for me. Two dollars on Chase Me Charly to show. He came in second. I won three dollars."

  I stared at my friend. You think you know everything about a person, then, suddenly, you find out something new.

  "Humans bet? On horses? To see which is faster?" Ax asked. "What do you bet?"

  "Money. What else?" Marco asked.

  "Money. Ah, yes. Mon-nee. I always forget about humans and their money."

  Jake looked at his watch. He was getting that slightly exasperated look he gets sometimes when no one is sticking to business. "Okay, look, we go to the track. No one bets. We acquire some horse DNA, then we fly out to the Dry Lands and spy on the modest horses."

  76 "Again?" Marco moaned. "That's what we do every Saturday. When are we going to get to do something original?"

  «Can I ask one question?» Tobias asked. «Why would the Yeerks be taking over the bodies of horses?»

  "Good question," Jake said.

  "It has to be about Zone Ninety-one," Marco said. "I mean, what is it, coincidence?"

  "It may be about Zone Ninety-one, but not the way you think, Marco," I suggested. "Who knows what the Air Force is really doing out there? Maybe they're testing some new super-weapon the Yeerks are afraid of."

  Ax laughed. "A human weapon that would frighten the Yeerks? That isn't possible. Sible. Pah-si-bull."

  I felt a little insulted on behalf of the human race. But Ax was probably right. "Look, I just don't see where the Yeerks would care about some kind of alien ship that may be hidden out there. It's nuts. Unless . . . unless maybe they don't know if the stupid conspiracy theory is true or not."

  "I have to confess I don't really understand what you are all talking about," Ax said. "However, the Yeerks would know if there was something nonhuman anywhere on this planet's surface. Their sensors could do an analysis of the

  77 alloys. After all, the Yeerks are not exactly on the level of Andalites, but they aren't totally primitive. They would be able to detect the presence of alloys, plastic composites, or live metals - the sorts of things spaceships are built from."

  I know Ax doesn't mean to sound condescending. But sometimes he ends up sounding that way just the same. Of course then he'll kind of spoil the whole Mr Spock/Commander Data thing by saying something like:

  "Is wood tasty? Is it good to eat?"

  "Yeah, but you want to use plenty of salt," Marco replied.

  Jake looked troubled. "You know, it would be really bizarre if the whole conspiracy thing turned out to be true. I mean, what if the government really has been hiding some alien spacecraft out at Zone Ninety-one?"

  "What is a Zone Ninety-one?" Ax asked.

  "For one thing, I'd have to apologize to Marco," Rachel said "But for another thing, maybe whatever it is they have hidden out there at Zone Ninety-one really could be used to penetrate the secrets of Yeerk technology."

  "Well, guess we better find out," Jake said. First stop: the racetrack,"

  "And what exactly is a racetrack?" Ax asked. "Zactly?"

  78 It wasn't far to the racetrack. We decided to fly. We all had seagull morphs except Ax and Tobias. We figured seagulls wouldn't be too obvious flying around the racetrack barns and paddocks. Whereas an entire sky full of birds of prey might be. So we all morphed seagulls, Ax did his harrier, and Tobias stayed Tobias.

  Flying as a seagull is the same as flying as an osprey in most ways. But in some ways it can be very different: You have to flap a lot more; you fly closer to the ground; and seagull brains have a different way of looking at the world than bird-of-prey brains. Seagulls are scavengers.

  We flapped up and away from the barn, working our sharp-edged, swept-back white-and-gray

  79 wings. Ax and Tobias soared far overhead, watching the sky for other predators.

  But for the four of us seagulls, the trip was all one long garbage dump.

  «Look! A Butterfinger wrapper! I think there's some left!»

  «Look at that Burger King Dumpster! Oh, man, it's loaded with french fries and leftover burger!»

  «0h! Oh! Oh! Cheese puffs!»

  «No way! Someone threw out a half-eaten chicken leg! Extra crispy!»

  «Wouldn't that almost be cannibalism?»

  «Didn't we have this discussion before?»

  «Hey, it's extra crispy. I love extra crispy!»

  Now, yes, we could have struggled harder to control the seagull's mental obsession for anything even approaching food. But it would have been hard. And to tell the truth, it was kind of fun. Seagulls can spot food you wouldn't even think of. You'd be amazed the stuff people just throw away.

  «Look! Out behind that Pappa John's. Pep-peroni!»

  Anyway, we eventually made it to the racetrack. Without actually pausing to scarf any garbage.

  From the air the track was a big, long, dirt oval outlined with a white rail fence. There was a

  80 high, covered grandstand on one side, and various long, narrow horse barns stretching out behind the stands.

  The parking lot was about half full with cars and trucks pulling horse trailers. There was a good crowd of people, up in the seats and milling around beside the track itself.

  Out in the middle of the oval track was a big electronic tote board. It was already posting the odds for the first race.

  «Anyone see a good place to demorph?» Rachel asked.

  «There must be some empty stalls in those barns,» Tobias suggested. «Just fly in and land.»

  «0r we could go check out the trash behind the clubhouse,» Marco suggested.

  «Seagulls,» Tobias sneered. «You might as well be pigeons.»

  I guess to a hawk, calling someone a pigeon is a pretty bad insult.

  We swooped low and fast along the back wall of a barn. The stalls were in two long rows, opening out to the outside on one side, and into a long connecting hallway on the other side. Sure enough, about half the stalls were empty.

  I turned a sharp left. Seagulls can turn amazingly fast. And shot . . . ZOOOOM! . . . straight in through an open stall door.

  81 I landed on the dirty hay. «Looks okay in here,» I called to the others.

  ZOOOM!ZOOOM!ZOOOM!ZOOOM!ZOOOM!

  The others flew in and landed near me. Then we began to demorph. It was easy. No problem.

  Just one slight difficulty we'd overlooked: When you demorph you have to return to your normal body. For Rachel and Jake and Marco and me that meant human.

  But for Ax that meant Andalite.

  82 «Okay, everyone, demorph,» Jake said. Tobias? You want, to go human or stay as you are?»

  «I have to stay in hawk shape if I'm going to acquire a horse, in fact, while you guys demorph, I'll go ahead and try and find a horse I !like.»

  See, you have to be in your original! form if you
're going to acquire a new moron. And, sad as it may be. red-tailed hawk is now 'Tobias's true body. Tobias flew off. keeping his wings tight in the narrowness of the barn.

  I began to demorph. My swept-back white wings grew fingers. My tiny legs sprouted up and up and up, My yellowish beak spread and softened to become lips.

  And one thing was becoming clear: Four kids

  83 and an Andalite are kind of crowded in a single stall.

  Everyone was about ninety percent human, and Ax was about ninety percent Andalite, when suddenly, without warning, I found myself staring at two old, old men. One was chewing the end of a slobbery cigar. They were looking over the stall door.

  "What the . . . what are you kids doing in that stall? And what in the name of all that's holy is that?"

  What they were seeing was four kids who seemed to be wearing leotards decorated with feathers. And one really, really unusual creature like nothing either had ever seen before.

  "Ax! Keep your head down!" I hissed. I leaped to get between the two old men and Ax's tail.

  In case you've never seen an Andalite in person before, and obviously, you haven't, let me explain. Andalites look like a weird cross between a deer, a horse, a scorpion, and a human. They have the bodies of slender horses or large deer, except that their fur is blue and tan.

  Their upper bodies seem almost human, until you get to the head, which is so totally not human you'd never mistake it. Like I said earlier, Andalites have no mouths. They eat by absorbing grass up through their hooves as they run. And

  84 they communicate telepathically with thought-speak. Plus, there's the whole eye thing.

  Andalites have four eyes. Two are right where you'd expect them to be. The other two are at the end of flexible stalks atop their heads. You know the little hornlike things giraffes have? Picture those, only flexible. And with an eyeball at the end.

  And finally, there's the tail. It's long and it ends in a scythe-shaped blade that could topple a tree faster-than-you-can-see.

  The tail is what I was trying to hide from the old men. I could only hope that Ax would have the sense to keep his upper body lowered.

  "I asked you kids what you're doing in that stall," the cigar man said, more sharply this time.

  "Dm . , . grooming our horse?" I offered.

  Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "Our horse? Oh, yeah, that's exactly what we're doing. Grooming our horse." She reached over and stroked Ax's back.

  "Small for a horse," the second man said skeptically. "What are you feeding that poor swaybacked nag?"

  "Horse food/' Marco said.

  "Horse food?"

  "Yeah. Um , . . you know, horse food. Boy, you should see how many cans this guy can eat.

  85 *

  Man, all day long I'm opening cans of horse food and filling his dish."

  The two men stared. The cigar man moved his cigar to the other side of his mouth.

  "Hah-hah-hah!" I practically screamed. "He's such a kidder! Of course we're not feeding our horse food from cans. We're feeding him alfalfa and hay. Like you'd feed any horse. My friend is such a joker! Total joke machine!"

  "Plus he's a moron," Rachel added.

  "Your horse is blue," the second man observed. "Never seen a blue horse."

  "Never seen kids wearing feathers on their faces, either," cigar said. "And I've seen a lot of things in my time."

  Jake was looking at me, waiting for me to come up with an answer. So was Rachel. So was Marco. Our "horse" was blue. There was no denying that. And yes, we had white-and-gray feathers sticking out of the sleeves and collars of our morphing suits.

  "We like blue horses," I said lamely.

  "Some day, all horses will be blue," Jake agreed.

  "You kids step out of there. This ain't right. Not any part of this. Step out of there and let me see what -"

  I felt, rather than saw, the twitch that ran through Ax's body.

  86 "Ax, NO!" I yelled.

  FWAPP! FWAPP!

  He struck with his deadly tail! But not at the men. In less than a half-second he had sliced the overhead railing that framed the stall. He'd sliced right through it in two places. The railing, a chunk of eight-by-eight lumber, fell directly on the men's heads.

  "Ahhh!"

  "Owww!"

  "Run!" Jake cried.

  We stumbled and piled over the two groaning men. Four kids and a very strange blue "horse." Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of brown-and-russet feathers.

  «l leave you guys alone for two minutes!» Tobias said. «And what have you done?»

  "Get them! Stop those kids!"

  We were off and running between the stalls! Ax was morphing to human as he ran. I was finishing my demorph, losing the last of the feathers. Outside the barn, crowds of people were milling around, waiting for the first race.

  "Get out of here. Out into the grandstand!" Jake yelled. "We can lose ourselves in the crowd."

  Then, WHAM! A stall door flew open, right in front of me. It cut me off from the others. I dodged around it, but too slowly. Someone

  87 grabbed my ankle, S sprawled, facedown on the concrete,

  "Cassie!" Jake veiled, He started back for me, but now there were people pouring into the barn. Stable hands, jockeys, horse trainers, and owners, all worried about what we might have done to their horses.

  i looked down. !t was some teenager who had my ankle,

  "I got one of them!" he yelled.

  ! didn't want to kick him. i didn't want to hurt him. He was just a guy, probably not a Controller,

  "I got this one! ! got this guy!"

  Guy? Excuse me? Guy? I wasn't even wearing overalls or anything. Okay, maybe the workout: suit ! was wearing for morphing was less than stylish, but hey, guy?

  Now I wanted to kick him.

  WHAPP! ! kicked his hand loose.

  "Sorry," ! said and scrambled to my feet. ! looked around frantically. No Jake. No Rachel, No Ax or Marco or Tobias. All ! saw was the back end of what looked like a small mob, chasing someone down at the far end of the barn.

  I dodged behind the fallen teenager and threw myself into stall.

  "Take it easy, boy," ! whispered to the big golden stallion in the stall. "Take it easy, E-e-e-a-a-s-v."

  89 Normally animals love me. This one didn't.

  "HhhhREEE-hee-heee-heee!"

  I had two choices. Get out of that stall and be captured. Or stay in the stall and be trampled. So I chose option number three.

  See, when you acquire an animal's DNA, it seems to put them in a kind of trance. They remain very calm. Which is how it's possible to acquire a grizzly bear.

  So I pressed both my hands against the heaving flank of the big horse and I focused my mind. He grew calm and quiet. His DNA flowed into me. It became a part of me.

  "One of 'em is still in this barn somewhere," I heard a voice say.

  Well. If you want to be inconspicuous in a horse barn, what are you going to do?

  Exactly. I started to morph the horse.

  88

  IA TA TA TA TATA TA TATA TA TA TA TAAAAH!

  I heard the trumpet announcing the start of a race. And I heard the crowd outside in the grandstand murmuring in anticipation. But I had other things on my mind.

  I had morphed a horse before. So I thought I knew exactly what to expect. But this was not just any horse. This was a racehorse. High-strung, aggressive, and just a little mean.

  "Search every stall!" a voice cried. "Who knows what those kids have been doing to the horses! They turned one horse blue!"

  "Well, make it fast. The first race has already started."

  90 i heard stall doors opening and closing. They were at the far end of the barn, i had two minutes. Maybe.

  I started the morph.

  The first thing that happened was the ears. My human ears sort of crawled up the side of my head to the top. Then they sprouted. No big deal. I mean, no big deal once you're used to that kind of thing. If you weren't expecting it and your ears suddenly
started crawling up the side of your head while getting long and pointy and covered with golden fur, you'd probably think it was a pretty big thing.

  My body began to change very quickly. My butt grew huge! I had megabutt! My knees suddenly reversed direction with a loud, sickening grinding noise. My calves were stretching out, longer and longer. They were practically without meat. Just long bones covered with golden fur.

  The fur rippled up across my body. Up my legs. Down my arms. Across my back and chest. I wish I'd had time to enjoy that part because it was cool. The horse had a soft, smooth, beautiful golden coat.

  Then my arms started growing. The upper arms bulged with massive, bunched muscles. All the muscle was at the top. The bottom was practically just a stick.

  As I watched, my fingers melted together.

  91 They looked exactly as if they'd been made of wax and put in a hot oven. They just melted.

  "Ann!" I yelped. For a brief moment I'd seen the fleshless bones of my own fingers. Not something you want to see. Trust me. They were bright white. I could see my fleshless knuckles.

  "I heard something! Down there!"

  "Just keep searching. No one is getting out of this barn."

  I fell forward, no longer able to stand on my legs. I fell forward just as the bare bones of my fingers melted together and hardened into hooves.

  CLUMP!

  My front hooves hit the ground. And now the horse - the real horse - was starting to get extremely worried. He had come out of his "acquiring" funk. And now he was beginning to realize something very, very, very wrong was happening right there in his own stall.

  "HreeEEE-heee-heee-he!"

  "It's okay, boy," I started to whisper. But just as I started the word "okay," my entire face exploded outward.

  My own nose just got up and left. It moved away. Far away. It sprouted into a muzzle a foot long. More than a foot long!

  My nose grew so monstrously huge that it forced my eyes apart. It was incredible! My eyes, which had been just an inch apart, like any nor-

  92 mal person's eyes, were spreading further and further. And as they separated, I found my field of vision growing wider and wider.