"So far. So far. Farrrrr. Faaaar," Ax said, try ing out the sounds. "So. Sssso far so so so good."
"Oh, man," I said.
30 The
mall was a zoo. Wall-to-wall people. Old people moving real slow. Married people with squalling babies in big huge strollers. High school kids trying to look cool. Mall police trying to look tough. Good-looking girls carrying bags from The Limited.
Your basic Saturday at the mall.
"Okay, where is Radio Shack?"Jake wondered.
"I don't know," I said.
"Is it up on the second level? You know, down by Sears?"
"Is that it? Or is that Circuit City?"
"Let me check the map over there. Ax? Come on with . . ." Jake stopped suddenly. "Marco? Where is Ax?" .
31 I spun around. "He was right here!"
Bodies everywhere! All I saw were bodies. Men, women, boys, girls, babies. But no aliens. At least not that I could see. We had lost Ax!
It had taken a total of about two minutes for us to mess up.
Then, suddenly, I saw a strangely familiar face.
"There he is! On the escalator!"
"How did he get all the way over there?" Jake demanded.
We took off after him, but it was so crowded we could barely move. Jake started pushing his way through. I grabbed him by the arm.
"Don't run, man. The mall cops will think you're ripping something off. Besides, we can't attract attention. Controllers shop, too."
Jake slowed instantly. "You're right. This many people, some of them are sure to be Controllers."
We threaded our way, moving as quickly as we could without being too obvious. I just kept say ing "excuse me, excuse me," and tried not to bump into anyone who looked like he'd get mad and pound me.
It seemed to take forever to reach the escala tor. By then we had totally lost sight of Ax.
"As long as he doesn't demorph we're okay," Jake said. "I mean, what's the worst he could do?"
32 "Jake, I don't want to think about the worst he could do," I said.
"There!"
"Where?"
"Over at Starbucks. The coffee place."
I'm not as tall as Jake so I couldn't see him as easily. But as we got near Starbucks, I spotted him. He was standing patiently in line.
We got to him just in time to hear him say, "I'll have . . . l-yull, lie, have a double latte, too. Double. Bull. Bull. Latayayay."
"He must have heard someone else say it," I whispered to Jake.
"Caff or decaf?" the clerk asked.
Ax stared. "Caff? Caff caff caff?"
"That will be two ninety-five."
Ax stared some more. "Fi-ive."
Jake reached into his pocket and yanked out the money he'd brought to pay for things at Ra dio Shack. "Here you go," he said, peeling off three dollars.
I took Ax's arm and guided him to the pickup window. "Ax, don't go off on your own, okay? We almost lost you."
"Lost? I am here. Hee-yar."
"Yeah, look, just stay close, okay?" I gave Jake a look. "See? It's your fault. You said, 'so far, so good.'"
The Starbucks guy handed Ax a paper cup.
33 Ax took it. He looked around to see what other peo ple were doing. Like them, he put a lid on his cup.
Then, still mimicking the others, he attempted to drink.
"Urn, Ax?" I said. "You have to drink where the little hole is in the lid."
"A hole! In the lid! No spills! Ills!"
This was the coolest thing Ax had ever seen. I guess coffee cup technology hasn't advanced very far on the Andalite home world. Probably be cause they don't have mouths, and so drinking is not a big concern. But whatever the reason, Ax wouldn't shut up about it.
"So simple! Imple. And yet so effective!"
"Yeah, it's a real miracle of human technology," I said.
"I have wanted to try other mouth uses. Drink ing. Eating." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Eeee-ting. Ting."
"Just line the little hole up with your mouth," I said. "Come on, there's Radio Shack. We've already lost like ten minutes."
The two of us hemmed Ax in and herded him toward Radio Shack.
Then he drank the coffee.
"Ahhh! Ohhh! Oh, oh, oh, what? What? What is that?!"
"What?" I asked, alarmed. I swiveled my head back and forth, looking for some danger.
34 "A new sense. It ... I cannot explain it. It is ... it comes from this mouth." He pointed at his mouth. "It happened when I drank this liq uid. It was pleasant. Very pleasant."
It took a few seconds for Jake and I to realize what he was talking about. "Oh. Taste! He's tasting it," Jake said. "He doesn't normally have the sense of taste."
"At least he stopped repeating sounds," I muttered.
"Taste," Ax said, contradicting me. "Aste. Tuh-aste."
He drank his coffee and we rushed him to Ra dio Shack. "Okay, look, Ax, we have very little time. See if the stuff you need is here."
I'll say this for Ax. He may have been a little weird by human standards, but the boy knows his technology. I mean, he went down the pegboards in the back of the store and just started lifting off different components.
"This must be a primitive gairtmof," he said, inspecting a small switch. "And this could be a sort of fleer. Very primitive, but it will work."
In ten minutes' time he'd accumulated a dozen components, ranging from coaxial cable to batteries to things I didn't even recognize.
"Good," he said at last. "All I lack is a Z- Space transponder. Transponder. PONder."
"A what?"
35 "A Z-Space transponder. It translates the sig nal into zero space."
I looked at Jake. "Zero space?"
Jake looked back at me and shrugged. "Never heard of it."
Ax looked doubtful. "Zero space," he repeated. "Zeeeero. The opposite of true space. Anti-reality." He looked patiently from one of us to the other. "Zero space, the nondimension where faster-than-light travel is possible. Bull. Possi-bull-uh."
"Oh," I said sarcastically. "That zero space. Um, Ax? Sorry to be so primitive and all, but we don't have faster-than-light travel. And I've never heard of zero space."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Oh."
"Let's get this stuff and worry about the other thing later," Jake said calmly. But I could tell he was getting slightly hacked off. "I'll go pay for this stuff."
Ax drained the last of his coffee. "Taste," he said. "I would like more taste." He cocked his head. "I smell things. I believe . . . buh-leeve . . . blee . . . bleeve . . . there is a connection between smell and taste."
"Yeah, you're right," I said. "We can't travel faster than light, but we can make a sticky bun that smells pretty good."
36 "Sticky," Ax said. "Must I carry this?" he asked, indicating his empty coffee cup.
"No, you can just throw it away."
Bad choice of words. Ax threw the coffee cup. He threw it hard. It hit one of the cashiers in the head.
"Hey!"
"Sorry, it was an accident, man," I yelped, rushing to the cashier. "He's . . . he's sick. He, um, has this condition. You know, like out-of-control spasms."
Jake said, "Yeah, it's not his fault. It's like a seizure!"
The clerk rubbed his head. "Okay, forget it. Besides, he's out of here and that's all I care about."
"He's what?"
Jake and I turned fast. But Ax was gone.
Jake grabbed the bag of stuff and raced after me out into the stream of people.
Ax was nowhere to be seen.
But then I looked down at the lower level. There was a crowd of people kind of surging. All moving in the same direction. Like they were running to see something.
"They're heading toward the food court," Jake said.
"Oh, I have a very bad feeling about this," I said.
37 We ran for the escalator. We shoved down it, yelling "excuse me" every two seconds.
We got to the food court. We wormed our way through a crowd of laugh
ing, giggling, pointing people.
And there, all alone - because all the sane people had pulled away - was Ax.
He was racing like some lunatic from table to table, snatching up leftover food and shoving it in his mouth.
As I watched he grabbed a half-eaten slice of pizza.
"Taste!" he yelled as he scarfed a huge bite. He threw the rest of the pizza through the air. It just missed the mall cop who was closing in on him.
Ax couldn't care less. He had found a piece of Cinnabun. "This was the smell!" he cried. He jammed the roll in his mouth. "Ahhh! Ahhh! Taste! Taste! Wonderful! Ful. Ful."
"They do make a good sticky bun," I muttered to Jake.
"We have to get him out of here," Jake hissed.
"Too late. Look! Three more mall cops."
The cops jumped at Ax.
Ax decided it was a good time to throw the rest of the bun away. It hit the nearest cop in the face.
38 "Ax! Run! Run!" I yelled.
I guess I got through, because Ax ran.
Unfortunately, he couldn't run very well in his two-legged human morph.
So as he ran and stumbled, chased by huff ing, puffing mall police, he began to change.
39 top!" a cop yelled. "I am ordering you to halt!"
But Ax wasn't interested in halting. He was panicked.
A woman stepped out of the Body Shop hold ing a bag full of colorful jars. Ax plowed into her. The bag went flying.
The stalks began to grow out of the top of his head. The extra eyes appeared on the ends and turned backward to watch the people chasing him.
Jake and I were two of those people. We were ahead of the cops, but not by much. Fortunately, I guess the cops assumed we were just idiots running along for fun.
40 I could hear one of the cops yelling into his walkie-talkie. "Cut him off at the east entrance!"
Legs began to grow from the chest of Ax's hu man morph. His own front legs, small at first, but growing rapidly.
He was slowing down as his human legs began to change. The knees were reversing direc tion. His spine elongated into the beginnings of a tail.
That's when the screaming started.
"Ahhhahhhhh!"
"What is it? What IS it?"
People were screaming and running and drop ping their bags as they caught a glimpse of the nightmare creature Ax had become. Half-human, half-Andalite. A fluid, shifting mess of half- formed features.
I couldn't blame them. I felt like screaming myself.
We were getting near the exit, racing past the shoe repair place.
Suddenly, Ax fell forward, tangled up in his own mutating legs. He skidded down the polished marble floor.
Most of the crowd had been left behind, but the mall police were still with us.
"You kids get out of the way!" one of them yelled at us. "This guy could be dangerous."
Ax sprang up. He was much more sure of him-
41 self, now that he was on his four Andalite hooves. The morph was almost entirely complete. His mouth was gone. His extra eyes were in place. His two arms and four legs were fully formed.
Then, at the very last, the tail appeared.
It was then that I heard the nearest mall cop, in an awed, frightened whisper, say, "Andalite!"
I quickly turned and looked at him. Only a Controller would recognize an Andalite.
The Controller cop drew his gun from his hol ster.
"RUN!" I yelled at Ax.
The Controller stood between Ax and the door. Big mistake. The Andalite tail flashed, faster than my eyes could follow. The cop's gun went flying through the air. He clutched at a hand that was red with blood.
Out the door we blew, running for our lives.
Sirens!
"Those are real cops coming," I said. "Not mall rent-a-cops!"
«Where should we go?» Ax demanded, revert ing to thought-speak.
"Oh, now he wants advice?!" I looked around frantically. The bus was not going to be an option. The mall cops poured from the glass doors. The city police screamed toward us in their black- and-whites.
All we could do was run. So we ran. Up rows
42 of parked cars. Two kids and a guy who did not belong on this planet.
"The grocery store!" Jake yelled.
"What?" I gasped. I was getting tired.
"In there!" he pointed. It was the grocery store across the parking lot. It was the only way we could go.
Police cars screeched to a halt all around us.
"Freeze!"
"I don't think so," I said.
We jetted through the big glass doors of the supermarket at a full, panicked run. I halfway expected to hear guns firing and bullets whizzing.
"Jake!" I yelled. "Help me here!" I had an idea for slowing down our pursuers. I grabbed a big row of parked grocery carts and shoved them back toward the doors. Jake grabbed on and helped.
Then we were off and running again, with Ax skittering shakily on the slippery floor and bang ing into groceries. Cans of olives and tomatoes crashed behind him.
Customers screamed and crashed their carts into each other.
"It's a monster! Mommy, it's a monster!" some little kid yelled.
"It's just a pretend monster," his mother said.
Yeah. A pretend monster. Right.
Then I saw our way out. It was at the end of
43 the aisle. But I needed some time. I needed to get everyone out of our way. We couldn't have witnesses.
"There's a bomb!" I screamed, at the top of my lungs. "BOMB!"
"What?" Jake demanded.
"There's a bomb! A bomb in the store! Run! Run! Everyone out! A BOMB!"
"What are you doing?!" Jake yelled.
"The cops have the place surrounded. There's only one way out," I snapped. I pointed.
I pointed at the live lobster tank at the end of the aisle by the seafood counter.
"Oh, no," Jake groaned.
"Oh, yes." I grinned.
The shoppers were running in panic, either from the supposed bomb or just from Ax. But the baskets in the doorway and the people shoving to escape slowed the cops down for a precious few moments.
I had a feeling the Controller cops were making sure that no real cops came in after us. They wanted us for themselves. With no human wit nesses.
"Let's go for a swim," I said.
It was a big lobster tank, fortunately. I hoisted myself up the side and climbed in. Jake was right behind me. We each grabbed a lobster and threw one to Ax.
44 It was not easy "acquiring" the lobster. It took concentration. And all I could think was that there were an awful lot of cops outside the store, probably getting ready to rush in. And they would all have guns.
The lobster went limp and passive, the way animals do when you acquire them.
I dropped him back in the water. We stripped off our outer clothes and shoes and stuffed them, along with the Radio Shack bag, in a trash can.
Ax had already begun to morph. Jake and I waited till he had shrunk a little and then hauled him into the tank with us.
He was already hard, like armor, and his arms had begun to split open and swell.
Then I began the morph.
I've been afraid a lot since we became Ani- morphs. But I have not gotten used to it. And I can tell you, I was so scared my bones were rat tling.
At any second they were going to rush in.
At any moment they were going to catch us half-morphed.
I looked over at Jake. His eyes were gone, re placed by little black BBs.
"Ewww."
As I watched, eight spindly, blue, insectlike legs erupted from his chest.
"Aaaaahhh!" I yelped in shock.
45 Jake's face seemed to open up, to split open into a complex mess of valves. I think I would have thrown up, seeing that. Except that I, also, no longer had a mouth.
At that very moment, I felt antennae explode from my forehead like impossibly long spears.
I was shrinking as I morphed
, falling, falling, falling down into the water which had been around my thighs and was now around my neck.
I had the terrifying sensation of knowing that all the bones inside my body were dissolving, as a hard, fingernail-like crust covered me all over.
My human body was melting away.
My human vision was fading. I could no longer see the way a human sees.
Which was a good thing. Because I really did not want to see what I was becoming.
46 X think I might have just started screaming and never stopped. But I no longer had a mouth, or throat, or vocal cords capable of making sounds.
I had four sets of legs. I had two huge pincers. I could see them, kind of. They were a fractured image in my lobster eyes. I couldn't see much of the rest of me. But I could see other lobsters in the water.
I was very frightened.
Eat.
Eat.
Kill and eat.
The lobster brain surfaced suddenly, bubbling
47 up within my human awareness. It had two thoughts.
Eat.
Eat.
Kill and eat.
I was getting input from senses I couldn't begin to understand. My extraordinarily long anten nae felt water temperature, and water current, and vibration. But I didn't know what any of it meant.
My eyes were almost useless at first. They showed fractured, incredible images, with none of the colors I knew.
I could see my pincers out in front of me. I could see my antennae. And behind me I could see a curved, brownish-blue surface, with humps and bumps on it.
My body! I realized with a sickening sensa tion. That was my back. My hard shell.
I could not look down and see my belly, or the hairy swimmerets scurrying away, back beneath my tail. I could not see my eight spiderlike legs, but I could feel as they propelled me suddenly, scrabbling along the glass bottom of the tank.
«Jake?» I called out.
«Yeah. I'm here,» he said. He sounded shaky. Which was fine, because I was on the verge of crying. If lobsters could cry.
«You okay?»
48 «Yeah. This is not my favorite morph, though.»
«No,» I agreed. It was good being able to talk to him. I mean, you'd think you were losing your mind otherwise.
«Ax?» Jake called.
«!...! feel. ... I am hungry. This animal wants to eat,» Ax answered.
«Yeah, well, that's pretty normal for morphs,» I said. «Most animals care about food and not much else. I don't think lobsters are exactly geniuses^
The Predator Page 3
