THE VENGEANCE

My name is Rachel Berenson.

That's not what I'm going by these days, though. Unless I'm home alone with Tobias and Loren, I'm Melissa Chapman. Even though it's been a year, I still haven't told my parents or my sisters I'm back from the dead, and I'm not sure if I ever will. I've had dinner with them a few times now, though, and it's been almost normal. Nearly pleasant.

But for now, I'm content to live with Tobias and his mom, even if sometimes it hurts watching them as they start to connect in the way a family should. They deserve each other, so who am I to complain? Besides, I get a free place to live and only pay half the grocery bills. It's a pretty sweet deal.

"What are you watching?" Tobias asked, flopping down next to me on the loveseat and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"That awful Animorphs prime-time soap on The CN," I said, making a face. "I can't believe you guys left Marco in charge of our licensing rights."

Tobias shrugged. "Jake and I weren't in any condition to make corporate deals at that point. And you know Cassie."

On the TV, the ethereally beautiful twentysomethings hired to play our teenaged selves were involved in an ethereally beautiful chase scene with the show's very-not-ethereally beautiful substitute for Mr. Chapman.

"Quick, Rachel," said the guy I was pretty sure from context was supposed to be Jake to a woman who looked nothing like me in either of my bodies. "You and Marco go left. Cassie and I will go right. Mr. Norman can't chase all of us!"

"Why don't they morph?" Tobias complained next to me.

"Low budget, I guess," I said. "It's not like they're giving out the morphing technology to just anyone."

"And where the hell am I?" he continued, growing more indignant. "They're not even indoors!"

"That I don't know. I've been watching for about twenty minutes and I don't remember anything remotely like this episode ever happening."

We finished watching the episode and agreed to start trying to catch it regularly to see if we could ever figure out what the hell was going on. Tobias grabbed the remote and started flipping around, finally settling on CNN.

"We are continuing our coverage on the Bug Fighter attack earlier today," the anchor said. "For those of you just tuning in, the small Asian nation of Taungu, best known for being the home of former Animorph Marco Black, suffered widespread damage in a massive attack by a rogue Bug Fighter."

Tobias and I looked at each other. His face was as blank as always, but I could feel my brow creasing into worried ridges.

"The spokesperson for the Yeerk population of Earth, Geran Three-Five-Two-Five, said in a public statement today that the fighter was not aligned with any of the planet's mainline Yeerk political groups. It is being speculated that this is connected to the kidnapping by Yeerk extremists of the former Animorph Tobias Harris last year."

"James," I muttered.

"I guess it was only a matter of time," Tobias said. He stood up from the couch and turned off the TV. "We should try to get over there and see if Marco and Jake are okay."

"Should we grab Cassie?" I asked.

"Last we heard she was still on probation for the incident last year," he replied, walking into our bedroom.

Before I could follow, my phone rang. Cassie. "Speak of the devil," I muttered. I hit the button to accept the call. "What's up?"

"Have you heard?" Cassie asked without preamble.

"Yeah, we just saw it on the news," I replied, following Tobias into the other room. "What's going on?"

"Christ, I don't even know." I could hear the tension in her voice. "The second the news hit I was whisked away to a debriefing, and ever since I've gotten out I've been at press conferences."

I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you did press conferences."

"I don't," Cassie said. "They just wanted me to sit onstage so they had an Animorph visible to the press. Anyway, this is the first time I've managed to get away to call you guys. They're talking about putting together a task force to go in and bail out Marco and I've been asked to be on that committee. You guys should pack in case I can get you approved for it."

"Already on it," I said, picking some shirts out of my dresser and handing them to Tobias, who tossed them haphazardly into the duffel bag. I frowned disapprovingly, but he stuck his tongue out at me and kept packing. "You know who you should get? The people who went on the Ax mission with the others. What were their names, Tobias?"

"Jeanne Gerard and Menderash-Postill-Fastill," he said. "But Menderash is a human nothlit, so I don't know if he's going under another name."

I repeated the information back to Cassie. "Thanks," she said. "I'll see what I can do." There was a brief pause. "I have to go. My boss says the first committee meeting is in a few and I should be there."

"Good luck," I said.

"I'll see you later, hopefully."

I flopped back on the bed, looking plaintively at Tobias. "What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?"

While we waited for Cassie to call back, we caught Loren up to speed over coffee. Worry clouded her eyes. "You're going into a war zone?" she asked.

"Not as far as we know," I said. "The Bug Fighter hasn't been seen since the attack. We're just going to see if Marco and Jake are okay."

"Then why the business with the task force?" she asked.

I looked at Tobias. We'd been hoping she wouldn't notice that. "Well, uh..."

Tobias cut in. "When we say it's not a war zone," he said, "that's technically true."

"Technically?" Loren raised an eyebrow.

"Everything's a bit chaotic with so much destroyed," Tobias continued reluctantly. "There's a lot of rioting and looting and stuff going on. You know how people can get."

Saying nothing, Loren closed her eyes and sat back in her chair, taking deep breaths. I was alarmed to see tears leaking from between her eyelids. "Loren?" I asked hesitantly, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

She leaned her cheek against the back of my hand and opened her reddened eyes. "I'm fine," she lied. "It's just... I've only had a year with Tobias as a real family."

Shifting guiltily in his seat, Tobias said, "Mom, I would love to just stay here. I mean it. Coming back to you was one of the best choices I've ever made."

"But your friends need you." Loren nodded, sniffling. "I understand. I mean it. It's just hard."

Tobias took his mother's hands in his. "I'll come back, Mom. I promise."

Just then, a knock came at the door. Grateful to leave and escape the intense chest pains the scene was causing me, I stood up. "I'll get it," I said, heading out of the kitchen and through the living room. I opened the front door and blinked.

Standing in front of me were three average-sized men with the same complexion and perfectly groomed light brown hair. All of them wore black suits with ties and sunglasses, and I could see from the bulge in their jackets that they were all packing heat. The one in the middle said, "Melissa Chapman?"

"That's me."

He held out some official-looking paperwork. "Theodore Bluestein, CIA. We need you and Tobias Harris to come with us."

Tobias emerged from the kitchen, Loren trailing behind. "Are you here about the task force?"

Bluestein nodded. "This is a matter of some urgency, so if you could follow us?" The three turned and headed toward a black car parked at the side of the road. Tobias and I followed after grabbing our bags and saying goodbye to Loren.

A brief car ride later, we were driving onto the tarmac of the airport. The car pulled up alongside a small jet plane and the CIA agents let us out of the car.

"Learjet 70," Tobias muttered. Seeing my surprised look, he grinned. "When you're in the air as often as I am, you start keeping track of anything whose engines you don't want to get sucked into."

"Why aren't we taking an orbital hopper?" I asked the nearest agent.

"Too conspicuous," he replied. "Easily targeted if the Bug Fighter should try to intercept us."

We climbed aboard the small plane and I fastened myself in. Tobias demorphed and I noticed that the CIA agents looked away uncomfortably. Morphing was pretty common among the military and spies these days, but I supposed it was still hard to get used to. It was hard to know, though — I had long since been desensitized to this particular morphing process. When Tobias finished, he hopped into my lap and Bluestein signaled to the pilot that we were ready to take off.

Hours later, one of the CIA agents gently shook me awake. "We're here."

"Where is here, anyway?" I asked as Tobias morphed back to human.

"Washington. Come on, they need you ASAP."

They herded us into another black car, this time one with the windows tinted on the inside so that it was impossible to see where we were going. "So much secrecy," I muttered.

"We are dealing with the CIA, Rachel," Tobias said.

"Are we, though?" I asked. "I didn't really get a good look at Bluestein's ID. And we haven't seen any other evidence they're CIA. I mean," I added as Tobias tried to cut in, "that's the point, I know. But for all we know this is just a trap. They didn't say anything about the task force until you did."

Tobias paused to think. "That's a good point. We need to stay alert."

"Maybe you should get feathery, just in case you need to morph quickly."

"Good idea." He demorphed quickly. Just as the morph completed, the car stopped and a new agent let us out. We were parked in front of a greasy-looking deli restaurant.

"This is where we're having a top-secret meeting?" I asked incredulously. Without answering, the agent escorted us through the door. Nodding to the guy behind the counter, he led us into the back and opened what looked like a walk-in fridge. Inside, a Gleet Bio-Filter was between us and the opposite wall, where a keypad was set next to the door.

‹I've got a really bad feeling about this,› Tobias said privately to me.

I nodded.

The agent escorting us spoke into a walkie-talkie. "Disable the Bio-Filter, we've got a bird."

Within a second the faint glow in front of us faded and the agent stepped forward, tapping a brief sequence into the keypad. With a burst of pressurized air, the door started to slide open. As soon as the gap was wide enough, the agent ushered us in.

‹Oh Jesus.›

In the room were at least nine armed Hork-Bajir. And all of them were looking at us.