Elfangor's Folly

by Kim Hoppy

After the crash landing, Elfangor finds himself on Earth, alone, the only ones knowing of his presence being the five children who saw him crash. Confronted with the choice to fight or to hide, he chooses to continue the battle. AU

2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Rights to Animorphs and its respective characters belong to the respective parties.

Warning: Minor adult content in some chapters. Also, a higher-than-likely chance that things may be lifted directly from the text without warning, scenarios imitated, battles poorly written. Also, long chapters. The story generally follows the series.

[~.~.~]

A/N: Up to Megamorphs 1.

[~.~.~]

Part of me felt bad about what I was doing, but I didn't let it hold me back. I straightened my tie, hoped the suit didn't look terrible, and knocked firmly on the door. And then I knocked again. And again.

Eventually I heard movement from the inside and the door was opened. I kept my face stern when the face of Marco's father looked out, scruffy faced and raccoon-eyed. My nose almost sneered at the faint unpleasant scent emanating from him. "Mr. Peter ____?"

The human, upon seeing me and my very stern presence, looked nervous. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"My name is Henry Agincourt," I stated, an entirely made up human to go with my new morph. It wouldn't do to use my regular human form with Marco's father, as we might meet casually in some unforeseen manner. "I'm here to speak to you about your son."

"Marco?" Now Peter looked worried and scared. "Has something happen? Is he all right?"

"Your son is fine. Please, may I come inside?"

For a moment, he was unsure, but he stepped aside and let me enter. I did so carefully, taking extreme notice of the disarray and mess. Marco did do his best, but entropy will always win out. When I turned to look back at Peter, he was nervous and embarrassed, huddling in his worn bathrobe. "…Um, sorry of the mess? Can I, um, offer you a drink or something, Mr. Agincourt?"

I made it obvious in my glance at the empty beer cars. "No, I am fine, thank you. Please, let's sit." I did so in the beaten chair, and Peter gingerly sat down across from me.

"What's wrong with Marco?" he asked as I snapped open my briefcase, trying to fix his robe to perhaps cover up his lack of clothing. Humans and their modesty.

"I am here to determine that. Mr. ____, I work for Social Services. We've received several concerns about Marco's well-being in your care."

Peter looked as if he hadn't understood the statement. "W-what?"

"We aren't taking any sides, but it is customary to check on these sorts of claims," I said pretended to flip through a file marked with Marco's name. "For the good of the child."

"Marco's perfectly fine!"

"Yes, I'm sure. Mr. ____, please sit down. This is only a formality, I'm sure. Please, if you could answer a few questions."

He stood shaking before managing his seat back on the sofa, and I felt sorry for him and what I was going to put him through. The human had fallen apart at the loss of his mate. He obviously loved her a great deal. However, I owed Marco. He tried to help me even while he desperately tried to care for his father.

It was a delicate plan, I knew. A call to Social Services would show I didn't work there, and there was a chance Marco's father wouldn't even be concerned at their appearance. (Thankfully, that appeared to be a slim chance!) But something had to get the human aware of what he was doing to his son. If it took the risk of losing Marco to realize his son's worth, it was a good plan.

I just had to be careful.

I asked him about his simple vitals, as if this really was an inspection, before going to the meat. "And are you currently employed?"

"Ye … er, that is, I've got a job lined up. I start in a few days. I'll be a night janitor at one of the buildings downtown."

"I see. And how long have you been unemployed, Mr. ____?"

"Not long," he said quickly. "I just got fired last month …" He trailed off, as if realizing admitting he was fired was a poor choice.

"May I enquire as to the reason of your termination?"

His eyes darted for a moment. "We had a difference of opinion."

"I see. And where was this?"

He gulped. "… Delivery. That is, I unloaded stock at a store."

I nodded and dutifully managed to get the address of his previous employer, and the one before that. "And how much do you drink?"

"Not that much!"

"How much is, not that much?" I asked, looking around the room again.

"Not much," he repeated a bit shrilly. "Just a can or two, I swear."

"Have you ever struck your son?"

"NO!" He was on his feet again, outraged and pale at my accusation.

"I have to ask, Mr. ____. Please, sit down."

"I've never hit Marco!" he repeated. "Who told you that?"

"Mr. _____, please, sit down," I repeated. "And all of our concerns can be lodged anonymously. Please, sit. Thank you." I looked at the man with probably more kindness than my cover should have allowed.

"I never hit my son," he said again, as if repeating it made it truer, as if I would be more inclined to believe him.

"Of course not." I paused and let him get his bearings. "I assume you do go grocery shopping, as you can?"

"Marco does the shopping. Is that bad?"

"No, of course not. But does he have appropriate meals?"

"He has food. I mean, he usually cooks too. He's a good cook," he hedged and spoke quickly, trying to get away from a touchy point. "Better than me, anyway."

I gave a small smile. "I'm sure he is. I understand you are widowed."

"Yes," he said, and his demeanor changed, his voice. "Yes. My wife … she was lost at sea. Nearly two years ago."

"I'm sorry. I lost my own wife, many years ago. Car accident," I made-up, because I needed a how that was believable. "It was hard." And it had been. It had been hard to remember how to be an Andalite, to realize what I had given up, left behind, lost. Lost and gained. My human family, my Andalite family. It had been a confusing time.

"It still is," Peter said quietly.

"Yes," I agreed in a similar soft voice. "And how did Marco take her death?"

"It was hard on him, of course. How couldn't it have been? Eva was his mother."

"Yes, forgive me." I was quiet and pretended to think. "Mr. ____, may I be frank with you?" At his agreement, I spoke in slow, measured steps. "It is quite clear the concerns were exaggerated. I have looked into Marco's academic records, and there is little worry there. He won't be honor roll, but who really wants to be? But I cannot ignore some of the other issues."

"What other issues?" he demanded.

"Your wife's sudden death was traumatic for you. I understand that. However, perhaps it might be Marco's best interest if he lived with another relative. Just for a little while."

"You want to take my son away from me?!"

"No, of course not," I soothed. "You're obviously trying to cope, and I'm sure Marco is as well. But children, especially young men, need stability."

"It's stable! It's beyond stable! Stable as a house. With a stable, even! So stable we are a house! In a house! Everything's fine!"

My face hardened. "Mr. _____, your wife has been dead two years. I've got witnesses stating your actions, signs of neglect. Marco needs someone to care for him, not the other way around. He lost one parent. He doesn't need to see the other killing himself."

"I'm not—"

"Aren't you?" I demanded. "You stay at home and drink, barely making enough to get by. And it is not as if you could not get a better job. You were a good programmer. Instead, you chose to wallow in sorrow and shirk your parental responsibilities."

"It's not like that!"

"Isn't it? Mr. ____, I have no desire to recommend Marco be removed from your care, but I will do it."

"You can't take my son away from me! He's all I have left!"

"Then act like it! Get out of this neighborhood, where drugs are dealt on every corner. Get a job that offers stability. Get a therapist and work past your grief. Because what you are doing now, you are not only destroying yourself, but your son."

"I loved my wife," he said, eyes damp.

"Of that, I have no doubt. But I have to wonder if she would love what you have become. You honor her memory very poorly." I snapped my briefcase shut and then dug into my jacket for a business card. "I won't say anything now, Mr. _____, but I will keep my eye on this. If things do not improve, I will tell my superiors that, at this time, you are an unfit guardian for your son. This is my number. If your situation should change in any way, do not hesitate to call me."

He took the card with a shaky hand. "But how? What can I do?"

"I would recommend getting a job that you do not plan on being fired from or losing. Perhaps one of your old friends could assist you. I understand a Mr. Jerry Richardson is looking for a programmer." I smiled at his surprise. "I look very thoroughly, Mr. _____. I would suggest, as a start, to call him. No, actually, I would suggest taking a shower, cleaning up your home, going shopping, cooking a casserole, and then calling him. It is a matter of priorities."

Peter blinked at me expressionless eyes, and then he laughed. "Yes, Mr. Agincourt, maybe it is. And maybe mine need a little rearranging."

I stood up. "Forgive me, but I doubt your priorities ever changed. They just got … forgotten. I believe I'm done, for now."

"I'll show you out." He stood as well and led me to the door. When I was out on the porch, he asked, "Mr. Agincourt?"

"Yes?" I asked, turning.

"Are you … are you going to talk to Marco? About this?" His fingers fiddled with my card.

"No, I don't think so." Because I really didn't want to deal with Marco yelling at me. I held out my hand. "Take care of yourself, Mr. ______."

"You too. And you'll be hearing from me," he promised as he gripped my hand tightly.

I grinned. "I severely hope so."

[~.~.~]

I left Aximili out in the street, possibly a poor choice, as I entered the Post Office and checked my mail. I tended to bring him along when I went into the city, to let him get used to humans and their customs. Of course, I did have to keep a strong eye on him, especially when we were around food. Or not. I'd had to slap the back of his head to get him to spit out the cigarette butts, and then, told him, in no uncertain terms, to never touch them again, do not put them in your mouth, do you want to die of nicotine poisoning. Three butts had enough poison to kill a small human child, and Aximili had shoved quite a few more than that in his mouth.

It did not help my argument when he pointed out that humans were smoking them. "There are some things you do not imitate humans on."

I opened the box and took out the small handful of envelopes before locking it up and quickly leaving the building. (My worry with Aximili had reached my limits.) He was standing in the sidewalk, twisting his head around desperately so he wouldn't be snuck up upon. I shook my head in amusement. "You will give yourself a cramp if you keep that up," I said, effectively sneaking up on him. "Whoa, careful." I quickly caught him before he could fall.

"T-th-thank Ank you. Ooo, Ellllfan—."

"Just Al, remember," I said. "Come on." With an arm on his shoulder to help him balance, I left him down the sidewalk.

"D-did-id you get wh-whattt you neededed?"

"Yes." I showed him the stack of envelopes. "I've got you a credit card, in case of emergencies. That way you'll have money."

"To get f-food?" he asked gluttonously.

I grinned. "Food, emergencies, they might mean the same thing. Speaking of which, I'm hungry. Are you?" I said, seeing a small deli across the street.

He agreed enthusiastically and I reminded him how to safely cross a human street, doing my best to withhold the temptation to say he had to hold my hand. "You sit here and I'll be right back. And do not eat the napkins or from the salt shaker," I said as I sat him at the outside table.

After making sure he was not going to somehow draw attention to himself, I went inside and placed an order for two large subs with everything, two small salads, two Cokes, two potato salads, two macaroni cheeses, and, as an afterthought, two strawberry cheesecakes. It was a bit of a trick to balance everything on the tray and make it outside without losing anything, but it was almost worth it so see Aximili's human face brighten.

"Easy, easy," I said, and carefully handed out the food, keeping the desserts aside so they would remain desserts and not entrees. "Here, this is a salad, plain." I chose to not add to the catastrophe by adding dressing. "This is called potato salad, and this is macaroni cheese. This is called a supreme sub. Basically, it has everything they can put on it, and some things they probably shouldn't. Now, you will eat this calmly, or I will take it all away. You will chew. You will not take my food. Understand?"

"Y-y-yes, Elllll." He was salivating, eyes intent on the food.

"Start with the salad. Here." Best to start bland. "And use a fork. The one with the prongs. Stab and into your mouth. And chew," I said, demonstrating with my potato salad.

Aximili tried, I have to admit that. He really did. But taste is very over-powering, and several patrons moved away from us. I gave him a few reminders and scoldings, but I didn't expect perfection. Not yet. Let him have some fun. As I ate, I opened my mail.

There was a bank statement, telling me how much money I had stolen. Several thousand dollars. Good. I tucked it into my pocket. One of the credit card statements, telling how much I had spent. Under how much was in the bank. Even better. I made a note to pay it, and then the other one.

Aximili was already on his macaroni cheese and potato salad, alternating and several times using his hands until I scolded him. I was still chewing my potato salad and my sub, reading the fine print of several forms. And then there was the official-looking envelope. From the government. Curious, I picked it up.

The IRS.

Do not tell me they were getting me for back taxes, I thought, before I remembered the numerous forms I had sent out. My eyes focused on the yellow envelope as if I could read through the paper. If Aximili hadn't been present, I would have ripped it open and devoured it right there. Yet he was, even if he was more focused on his food.

I drew a deep breath before I very carefully started to open it, and then pulled it out. I took another breath and then started to read. Slowly, and carefully, I read.

I was beyond ecstatic to see that her address was in this city. So ecstatic that I had to take another deep breath and control myself from yelling, from making a scene. In this city! She was here, so close. I could see her, I could! My wife.

"El. El, are you. Ooo all right. Ight?"

My brother, his food depleting, had noticed me. I quickly tucked the letter into my pocket. "I'm fine." Then I looked at his face and sigh. It was covered in food, as if he had eaten from a trough. "Here, wipe your face. And don't eat the napkin."

"Arre you going. Ing to eat that. At?" he asked, motioning to my macaroni cheese.

"Here." I was too stunned to really eat, and all I wanted to do was run to the address on the form and bang on the door, see her with my own two human eyes. But I couldn't. Not now, especially not with Aximili around. But that was okay. I just had to be patient. I waited eighteen years. What were a few more hours?

Not long, I had to tell myself. Not long at all.

Then I had to believe it.

"Here," I said, trying to control my voice, and slid my food over, before turning to my dessert. I needed such a thing, and, as I ate, I planned how I would avoid my brother and see my wife.

[~.~.~]

It was late. Aximili was asleep, and I had very carefully snuck away, managed my escape. And then I burst into the sky, flew smooth and fast into the air towards the address. I must have made to the city in record time. With my night predator eyes and silent flight, I examined the street signs, looked for the right one. There. And then I found it, followed the numbers up. Part of me felt worried as I flew over into the rougher part of town, passed even Marco and Tobias lived, the conditions even worse. The yards and the buildings were in disrepair.

Yes, there was her house. There, across from a grocery store in great disorder. The home had peeling paint on the grey boards, hardly any yawn, weeds on either side of the building. How could she live here? How could she demean herself?

She must not have been home. The lights were off, and I didn't hear any movement. Of course, it was late. Maybe she was asleep. Yes, that was probably it. I looked around and, desperately curious, flew around the house to look for the bedroom window. But no, there were all covered with curtains, windows closed with screens so I could not even sneak in.

I tried to control my disappointment as I landed in the tree, an elm. I focused my eyes on the building. She was so close, and yet, beyond my reach. It seemed about right, given my life.

Even still, I didn't leave. If this was as close as I could get to her, I didn't want to flee, not yet, not so soon. Just a little longer. Being only a few hundred yards away was nearly as painful as thousands of light-years, perhaps even more, but it was also better. So I stayed, imagined how Loren must have changed these years, even though I really couldn't. I had a dismal understanding human aging, the subtle things one's appearance went through as the years went by. But I tried, even if all I really did was remember how she had looked outside. I stayed.

It was a good thing.

My ears heard the footsteps, the clicking-click-click, and it shook me from my musings. My predator eyes focused on the sound's location, and I saw, there, a human walking a dog, turning the corner onto this street, coming this was.

It was a woman, and, even as I recognized her, I almost left my branch in shock as my intent eyes took in her face. My Loren … her beautiful face. Her once perfect eyes, one drooped. Her ear, it was one. Scars marred her face, her once beautiful hair coming in clumps around the old wounds. No … what had happened to her? What?

Was it my fault? Had I done this?

And then, it wasn't the worst, because I heard her speak, give the commands to the dog. And I understood the harness, reaching into the dim memory. My Loren, my wife, she was a vecol! She was blind!

If I had been human, I would have been sick, would have retched for the cruelty, the unfairness of everything. Not my Loren! Why, what had happened? In shock, I watched as she slowly entered her home, her fingers guiding, waited until she was inside, the locks sounding, before I could face no more, and I took to the air desperately, sloppily as emotion took me.

It wasn't long before I forced myself to land atop a tall building, nearly crashed, unable to keep my distance. I demorphed and collapsed to the ground, bowing my head, covering my main eyes as if they had human tears, closing my stalks so I was surrounded in a personal darkness.

‹Oh, Loren,› I whispered. ‹What has happened to you? Was it because of me? Why?›

To live without sight! How could she manage such a fate? What had she done to deserve such a thing? To never see the sky? A tree? A flower? To never … how? Why?

Why?

[~.~.~]

"So, even though we now have two Vissers on Earth, we're going to go nothing?" Rachel demanded.

"Yeah, because you're doing great with just the one Visser," Marco said sarcastically, lying against the bales of hay. He had followed Jake to Cassie's barn, possibly to torment his friend about the innocent romance blooming from all the manure around, for Jake sometimes helped Cassie with her chores. Curious and perhaps too lazy to leave, he stayed while I delivered this delightful tidbit of information.

I gave him a Look, but Aximili scowled at the boy. However, I spoke to Rachel. ‹It is very unlikely either of the Vissers will be actually on Earth during this visit. From what I've gathered, they're meeting on the Blade Ship, and it is too much of a risk to board the ship.› I smiled. ‹However, I would give almost anything to see it.›

"Why?" Tobias asked, interested.

‹Two Vissers, in close quarters. Especially Visser One and Three.›

"They hate each other?" Jake said.

‹Hate is too kind a word, as is loath. Visser One started the infiltration on Earth. It was how she got to her rank. She found Earth and saw its potential for hosts.›

"Oooh, we should throw her a party," Marco said. "Some streamers and a banner and cake."

I ignored his sarcasm. ‹She is a cunning and ruthless Yeerk and is even worse than him, because she is subtle.›

"How many Vissers are there?" Cassie asked.

‹Too many,› I said, and there were a few quiet laughs. ‹No one really knows, save the Yeerks themselves, but we believe there are about fifty Vissers and fifty sub-Vissers. They report to the Council of Thirteen, the head of the Yeerk Empire, with the leader one of the thirteen. No one knows, save the Controllers.›

Jake whistled. "Wow. That many?"

‹Yes, and it is politically cutthroat. The Vissers and sub-Vissers constantly undermine each other, and sometimes will risk battles on the outcomes. It has been one of our greatest advantages.›

"But couldn't Visser Three just chop Visser One's head off?" Rachel asked. "If they hate each other so much? He's a little tail-happy."

‹And risk his own position. The Yeerks frown against such blatant advancement.› I shook my head and petted one of the horses. ‹But yes, she does have an inferior host, compared to Visser Three. Actually, she has a human host, rumor being that she was one of the first to adopt the host. Many upper-level Yeerks probably shall, unfortunately, since humans are so versatile.›

"That poor woman," Cassie said.

‹Yes. She has been a host for many years, according to intelligence. I think … yes, I can remember the file. This, I believe, is her current host, though it is just as likely she switched.› I sent the image to them, the poor image that was the best our spies could do. In case she did come to Earth, they could recognize her. Humans recognize other humans.

I didn't notice, or at least understand, Marco's reaction, nor Jake's. Perhaps I should have, but the horse was nudged me hard in the shoulder when I showed the slightest lapse in attention to it. It probably wanted a sugar cube or carrot.

‹In any case, things should be relaxed, for a little while. Of course, then it shall be terrible, because Visser Three is a petulant child. Tail-happy,› I smiled, amused at the term Rachel had dubbed.

"We'll be ready," Rachel promised and also grinned.

"Yeah. And, about that. I know Tom's been spending a lot of time calling people on our phone. I don't know who they are yet, and Tom says The Sharing is doing some do-gooder thing, except, you know, they probably aren't," Jake added, looking at Marco. "It might not be anything, but I thought maybe we should check it out, to be sure. I'll get the numbers and stuff for you."

‹Thank you. We'll see if it is worth investigating,› I said, looking at Aximili, who seemed to be sulking in the shadows. ‹We'll leave you, before your parents return. Have a good day, all of you.›

[~.~.~]

Marco's sudden appearance not fifteen minutes later shocked me, as well as his pronouncement. "I want to join. Give me the power."

I stared at him, and Aximili looked rooted. ‹What?› I asked.

"Give me the morphing ability. I want to fight," he repeated vehemently.

I cast him a curious look. ‹What has brought about this change of heart? What about your father?›

"Elfangor, I have to do this!"

Indeed, the boy looked different. Desperate. There was a look in his eye, as if there was a newer passion fueling him, an emerging rage. ‹Of course, Marco. If that is what you wish.›

‹Elfangor, you can—› Aximili stopped when I glared at him. But he was still glaring at Marco.

"I do. Give it to me. Please," he added almost as an afterthought.

I moved to the tree and withdrew the Escafil device from the hollow portion, but I paused when I looked at him. ‹Marco, if I may ask why.›

"It doesn't matter, does it?" His eyes were focused on the object in my hands with a frantic hunger.

‹No, but I would like to know. You must trust me, Marco, as I trust you.›

Marco looked at me, judging me with his suspicious eyes, judging my words, my worth. And then, he said, "It's my mother."

I continued to look at him, unsure of his meaning.

"That was my mom! That Yeerk you showed us! That was my mom!" He was yelling now, eyes getting damp.

‹Visser One?› Aximili said aloud, shocked.

"Yes, Visser One, whatever! They took my mom!"

‹Marco …›

His fists were clenched. "It's their fault, everything! The Yeerks ruined my life, my dad's, my mom's. I'm going to get her back. I'm going to free her!"

‹Marco,› I said as I came closer and set a hand on his shoulder, ‹there is no certainty there. This is not like Tom. Your mother, she is off-Earth almost always. She is the host of a powerful Yeerk.›

"I will free her!" he repeated desperately.

‹Can you even be certain that was your mother, that this is not some blind, desperate hope? The image I showed you was poor at best.›

He was appropriately insulted. "I know my mother, Elfangor. I can recognize her! And that was her!"

I could only look at him. I couldn't repeat my words. It would be very unlikely his mother would ever be free, and not by any actions we would do. But I could not deny him this right. I merely held out the device, and he touched another side. It was only a few moments, and when it was over, he relaxed, his shoulders slumped.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, ducking his head and surreptitiously wiping his eyes.

‹You will have to get morphs.›

He nodded. "Yeah. Jake said … Jake'll help me. And Cassie." He looked at me. "Don't tell the others. I don't want them to know. I mean, Jake already does, of course, but no one else."

‹If you wish.›

Again Marco nodded. "Yeah, I do." He straightened himself up. "Well, you got me. I've joined your insane mission to save the Universe."

‹You were always part of it,› I smiled.

"Yeah, but now Rachel can't call me a coward."

I laughed. ‹Go train with Jake, Marco.›

When he left, I put the Escafil Device back into its hole and buried it in the leaves. Aximili was watching me. ‹You shouldn't have done that,› he said quietly.

‹It is his mother, Aximili. Allegedly,› I added, because I still had my doubts about his certainty.

‹Yes, but the Law ….› He trailed off helplessly. ‹We can't save her.›

‹We don't have to. We merely have try.›

Aximili looked at me, desperately trying to understand. ‹They're children, Elfangor. They have no training. They don't understand this War, what you're risking. They're not worth it!›

‹Yes they are.› The innocent are always worth the price in a war. ‹And even if they aren't, it is too late now. What is done is done.›

He still didn't understand or accept my actions, and again he disappeared into the forest.

[~.~.~]

I never liked hospitals, as an Andalite or as a human. Andalite hospitals are obviously different than human, in the simple reason that we mostly have traveling physicians. Doctors who make house calls, that's how the humans say it. Yes, we have buildings – more like areas, centers, not hospital buildings like humans, because how can anyone regain their health in such cramp structures – for our ill, but most of our physicians are not grounded to a single location. Of course, most of my hospital experiences have been with doctors on ships, which probably have colored my view. Never cross a ship's doctors, because they're sadistic. If you say even the most innocent comment, they twist it up and confine you to the infirmary for their tests. I mean, it wasn't like I actually meant it to Doctor Phlox when I said – but that's not important. All that matters is that he did not have a sense of humor.

At all.

True, my experience in human hospitals was even less, though it was not without its unpleasantness. It mostly centered on when I twisted my ankle and had to wear a brace for five weeks, and the time I got pneumonia and had to spend several weeks in their uncomfortable beds, and the numerous shots Loren had believed I'd needed. Yet that had been enough to cement my dislike. The staff was impersonal, the methods primitive – and far more painful than necessary – and the rooms were too cramp. I mean, when I had injured my ankle, they had wanted me to sit in a windowless room! I was already in pain, I couldn't walk, and they had wanted to add to my anguish.

Ahem … I suppose I'm off topic. The Yeerks managed to add one more reason to dislike hospitals. You check in free, and you check out as a Controller.

And one of my children gets taken as a host.

I glared at the bound Controller, desperately ignoring the fact that it was Jake. For now, his name was Temrash one-one-four. Not Jake.

We were in a cave deep in the forests, just the two of us. I had ordered Aximili to pretend to be Jake for the duration of these three days, and the others were helping him assimilate. Perhaps I should have taken Jake's place, as I was more familiar with human customs, but I didn't, for two reasons. The first was that my brother needed to learn how to blend in. Though under less-than-ideal circumstances, this offered that. The second was because Jake was my responsibility, so I had to watch him. It was ultimately my fault he had been taken.

There was also a third reason. It was because I'm me, the Beast. Even now the Controller was looking at me with nothing short of terror, even with though he was generally confident.

"Do you think you'll get away with this?" he said, trying to sound brave. "Your brother, pretending to be me?"

‹Pretending to be Jake,› I corrected. ‹And, yes, I do. How long can you go without sleep? Maybe a little over twenty-four hours, maybe longer if you force it. I can go over five Earth days, though by then I shall be extremely snappish. But you won't see me then, because in three days, you'll be dead.›

I paced in front of him, keeping my main eyes focused while my stalks looked behind me, out of the cave's opening. ‹Do you think because your host can morph you'll escape? I can morph as well. And I can knock you unconscious as you morph. Do you know how painful, how dangerous it is to stop between forms for too long? No, of course not, because Jake does not.

‹So make yourself comfortable, while you can. I promise you, Yeerk, you won't escape. And even if you do, I will kill you.›

"You won't kill this host," he said, as if that was his ace in the hole.

I smiled meanly as I leaned forward so our faces were level, even though my hearts broke at the truth of what lengths I would go to keep our existence secret. ‹Do you wish to test this certainty?›

[~.~.~]

It was a long three days. Occasionally one of the other children would come to guard the Controller so I could eat and refresh myself, but I never went far or was gone for long. Of course the children could manage to guard their friend for a few minutes, but I couldn't chance it. If they relaxed their guard for but a moment, he could escape, and then all would be lost.

The Yeerk did not talk to me much, and when he did I ruthlessly reminded him of his present situation. Perhaps it was cruel to remind the vermin that his death was imminent, that there was no hope, but I did not waste sympathy for those parasites. I gave all to it to Jake and what he must endure.

But I will admit that I did not feel complete clinical detachment. I am a warrior. When I kill, I make it swift, as painless as possible. I do not, like some who merely call themselves warriors, strike to bring suffering. Though I did not sympathize with the Yeerk, I did wish his death could have been kinder.

Cassie sat with them, and I gave them privacy the two young humans probably wished, though I could still hear them. I could hear Cassie speaking encouragements. And, in my mind, I counted down the final minutes and seconds, until I knew seventy-two hours had passed. When the Yeerk was no more and the human child was free.

I gave them several minutes before I stepped back into the cave. Cassie's arms were around Jake and he was holding her tightly, but they pulled apart when they noticed my presence. "Hey," Jake said in a gruff voice, quickly wiping his eyes.

‹It is good to have you back, Jake,› I said with a quiet voice and smile, but I didn't advance. He would choose when to approach another, he would have the control and choice. Jake tried to smile. ‹Cassie, take him home. By now, Aximili should have Jake's entire family believing he needs psychiatric help.›

That brought a grin to Jake's face, however weak it was. However, he asked Cassie to leave us alone for a moment. She nodded and left without question, because that was the sort of person Cassie is, and I gave Jake a curious look, wondering at this private meeting.

"I … I wanted to thank you. You know, for being here."

My stalks raised in surprise. ‹Of course I would have been here, Jake. You are my responsibility. And I would not have let you face this alone, even if you weren't.›

"That's not … I mean, still, thanks," he stuttered, looking unsure.

‹You're welcome.›

Jake looked like he was having trouble finding words. "He used to be in Tom."

It was a cruel coincidence. ‹I am sorry.›

"I never … we never realized … the Yeerks are scared of you." He said it with a strange tone that I couldn't understand or decipher. It wasn't awe or pleasure or fear or disgust, and it wasn't all of them, or maybe it was.

‹I have fought them for twenty-one years. Whatever he said to you, it is probably true, at least some of it,› I admitted, even without having to hear the tales.

"No, it's not … he knew he was going to die, when you were here, around. He couldn't even pretend to escape," Jake said quickly. "Thank you, for that."

‹I am glad my infamy made your episode more bearable.›

He looked at me. "Are they really true? What you've done to the Yeerks?"

‹I am not a shining knight, Jake. I have fought the Yeerks in all the ways I could. I've done things I am ashamed of, things the People have no knowledge of. I don't know what he told you – of the numerous pools of helpless Yeerks, ones without hosts, I've shot down, the ground troops of destroyed from orbit, other things too gruesome to mention – but I have done them. I have earned their moniker for me.›

Jake was quiet, his serious face upon me. I wasn't afraid of his judgment, because nothing could be worse than my own, and I made peace with my actions long ago. Or, if not peace, something similar to it. "Tom didn't want to be a Controller. He liked a girl, and he followed her, and then he saw Visser Three. He didn't want to be one." Even though there was sorrow in his voice, pride was there as well. It had been Jake's worry, I knew, that Tom was a Collaborator.

‹I'm glad.›

"Tom …. He wanted to protect me. That Yeerk –"

‹I understand.›

Jake's eyes were fierce. "I have to tell Tom … I have to tell him to keep fighting, somehow. He's giving up."

Hope. Jake was asking to give his brother tangible hope. ‹There are ways.›

He nodded at my tact approval, looking away. And then he said quietly, "When the Yeerk died, I saw something. This … thing with a giant red eye, like a machine or something."

I cocked my head, unsure. ‹I have never heard of such a thing.›

"Maybe it wasn't real," Jake said, "but it felt real. I was scared. And it looked right at me."

‹There are many unknown and unexplained things in the universe,› I said uneasily, as a feeling shuddered through my body. I do not know the source, but it made me feel antsy. ‹And beings may see strange things as they die, from random neurons firing.›

"So you think it wasn't real?"

I didn't know what to say, so I diverted him. ‹I think … it is best for you to go home and relax. Bubble baths are usually what one does, aren't they?›

Jake looked at me as if I had gone mad. "You're saying I need to take a bubble bath?"

‹Yes. With one of those squeaky ducks. Or a boat. You will feel better.› I always had.

"Elfangor?"

‹Yes, Jake?›

He looked at me, then sighed. "Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

[~.~.~]

‹I trust that there won't be any more elephants giving flights,› I said very darkly, glaring at Rachel. She looked chagrinned and slightly worried. Did she think I wouldn't have learned about it?

"You bet," she promised with more bravado than she possessed. It was something to admire about our Rachel. It was also something to want to strangle her about.

"You know, he does do a narrowed eye-stalk thing," Marco said conversationally, and then ducked behind Aximili. My brother merely appeared annoyed and stepped aside, so, in case I needed a clear attack, he would not be in the way. Marco ducked behind Jake and Cassie. "You can't kill me! I have information!"

"Actually, he can kill you. I know it too," Tobias grinned.

Marco made a face. "Some ally you are!"

‹I would not kill you, Marco. It is an ineffective teaching method, ultimately getting rid of students, though the idea does have merits.› I turned my blade to the side, to appear less threatening, then thought better of it. Instead, I contemplated the edge thoughtfully. ‹At least, I won't kill you if you have useful information. If it is not, that is another story.› I gave a smile.

"You know, I liked you better when you didn't try to have a sense of humor," Marco muttered.

"You're just jealous that Al's funnier than you," Jake said.

"Ha! I think you mean, he's funnier than you."

"That doesn't take much," Rachel grinned.

"Hey! I've got a great sense of humor, don't I?"

Cassie consoled him. "Yes, Jake, you do."

"She lies already to sooth your ego."

‹Marco, Tobias, any time now,› I interrupted. Aximili was focusing his eyes on each of them interchangeably, trying to understand the conversation, and I could see he was getting annoyed.

"Right. Well, it's a tale of initiative and courage and yes, brilliance."

‹Marco.›

"We found a way into the Yeerk pool, we think," Tobias said, jumping in.

"Through a dressing room in The Gap," Marco continued, glaring and upset at being upstaged.

I didn't ask how they learned of this. I didn't want to know. I had theorized that the Pool spread under the Mall, but I had not made any active work to find entrances beyond simple observation and logic. It was suicide to go down into the Pool. We were outnumbered and outgunned. Besides, the children and Aximili did not need to see the truth of Yeerk habits.

‹We can attack!› Aximili said quickly, and part of me winced.

‹No.› My brother blinked in surprise. I repeated, ‹No, that is too dangerous. We won't go to the Pool, not until we are certain for success.› I looked at the children and explained. ‹Yeerk pools are like Yeerk cities. They're huge and the center of their lives, necessary for them as Andalites need meadows and humans, food. The pools, you see, are enriched with Kandrona radiation, which a Yeerk must absorb to live.›

"Otherwise they starve," Jake finished, slightly troubled at the memory that was still fresh in his mind.

‹Yes.›

"What is Kandrona radiation?" Cassie asked. "Something like gamma?"

"Isn't that how the Hulk became the Hulk?"

"From a gamma bomb," Jake agreed.

‹He survived a gamma bomb?› Aximili asked, his curiosity overcoming his distrust of the humans. ‹Who is this Hulk?›

I made a mental note to familiarize Aximili (and myself) with fictional comic book characters. I had a feeling Marco and Jake were likely to bring them up numerous times. ‹Kandrona radiation, or rays, come from the Yeerk sun, the source of their nutrients and power.›

"So they're like Superman."

‹Superman?› Aximili queered.

"Do you just read comic books?" Rachel demanded.

"Yes," he said proudly. Rachel rolled her eyes in disgust.

"But if it's the rays of their sun, how do the Yeerks get them in the pools?" Tobias asked.

‹The Yeerks have a miniature version of their sun. Andalite design, I am afraid to admit.›

The children sat up and demanded explanation.

‹Andalites first came across Yeerks in their natural state some thirty years ago. Prince Seerow led the meeting.›

‹Elfangor,› Aximili hissed.

I ignored him. While Seerow's Kindness had its points, the humans were involved and needed to know the truth. And they were humans, and I did not think they would blame Andalites for their moment of kindness. The children were young and idealistic, and such blame would not creep into their minds until they learned cynicism. ‹The hosts for Yeerks at that time were limited to Gedds, very primitive. Prince Seerow felt sorry for them, and he befriended them. Unaware of their true nature, he shared technology and offered the Yeerks advancements, and was violently betrayed when the Yeerks attacked and stole everything, started their domination of the universe. It was the start of everything.›

"Eh, those slugs," Rachel sneered with disgust.

Cassie was equally bewildered. "After everything the Andalites did for them?"

‹Yes, though, to be fair, I am sure the Yeerks did not believe we did enough. In any case, the event has made the Andalite people feel responsible to fight the Yeerks, as well as being less willing to befriend other species.›

"But you did, er, do," Tobias put it.

I gave a weak smile. ‹I'm sure I shall have to face my reprimands, but I prefer to judge by merit, not species. Unfortunately for all of you.› I shook my head. ‹Anyway, thank you for the knowledge about the entrance. Good job, both of you.›

"Couldn't we just get rid of the Kandrona?" Jake asked.

Rachel continued. "That sounds like their weakness. Or would that be in the Yeerk Pool?" She sounded like she was upset I was against charging down there, tails flashing. It was something Aximili seemed to share, but he was polite enough to at least not say it. Though, still young and inexperienced, he hadn't managed to not look it.

‹It might, but it is not necessary. It could be within fifteen miles, depending on the size.›

"Maybe we could like spy out the Pool?" Rachel suggested.

Marco laughed. "That's our Rachel. Desperate to do things that will kill us, Xena?"

She ignored him. "We've got bug morphs."

‹Which see very little. Anything with decent sight is too big to risk, and anything that offers surveillance of more than three inches off the ground is either too large or buzzes. And Taxxons will devour anything that might be edible. It is too risky.›

"We know all this information and you're going to do nothing?" Rachel demanded.

‹I do not consider taking needless risks, nothing,› I said, growing impatient. ‹Your plan seems to center around morphing a bug, getting down to the pool, conducting the mission with the poor eyes, avoiding Taxxons and feet, and keeping under the two-hour time limit. As bugs. It is a desperate plan, and I am hardly that desperate. A better plan would be to morph known Controllers.›

"We can't morph humans without their permission," Cassie interjected. "That's not right."

I wanted to ask her, why, but it wasn't that important. ‹As well as the risks inherent with such a method. We could be questioned for Yeerk activities that we have no knowledge, and we might blow our cover.›

"Isn't there something we can do?" Jake asked. "I mean, there has to be."

They were so impatient, all of them, even Aximili. Desperate to do something. But that wasn't war. War was long bouts of boredom with brief spurts of excitement. And, what was worse, both could kill the warrioer, the boredom and the excitement. It was a terrible irony. ‹And we will, but not now.›

[~.~.~]

I did go check out the dressing room at The Gap, which was distasteful for several reasons. The first was that it required me to go to the mall. The second, it required me to enter a clothing store. Third, I had to worry about Yeerks. The source of the greater distaste was not necessarily in that order.

It was easy to see how to open the entrance, only a few minutes observing the room. There was only one wall it could have been, the one with the mirror, was the other two connected to the adjacent dressing rooms and the remaining was the door out. Once upon a time, I used to read human mysteries, and I remembered the secrets of pushing in the center of the decorative wooden flowers or moving the candlestick. In fact, I did open the passageway, but I quickly forced it shut and left soon after, just in case the Yeerks monitored everything.

It was rather disappointing that the Yeerks got their ideas from human novels. Then again, Yeerks never were very creative.

I spent another quarter of an hour at the mall, stopping at the Radio Shack before patronizing the cookie shoppe. (I decided to not play favorites with the treats and bought two of each. Well, how else do you decide a favorite if you cannot have another sample to make sure? Repetition is the key in science, after all.)

I nibbled on the cookies as I left the mall, holding my electronics and the large bag of cookies, somewhat wishing for a large glass of milk. Out of the parking lot, my feet carried me past the site of my crash, and inexplicably curious, I ducked into the construction site when I was certain no one would see me.

There was no overt sign that my ship had ever been here, only minor damage from its explosion. The Yeerks had cleared away any larger proof of its landing. I stood right at the center of explosion and felt a bit of pain at the loss of my beautiful ship. True, it was a standard vessel, nothing I had altered or designed. I haven't the talent for such a thing. While I would know what I wanted, I doubt I could make it happen in a practical manner.

Turning in a circle, I could only think it was remarkable, in a horrible way, how humans could alter their world. Twenty-one years ago this had been a beautiful – for Earth – forest. Andalites didn't clear away trees and forests like this. It was almost tantamount to murder. Yes, we did remove trees, but there were rituals and care. We didn't just strip the land.

And for what? To leave skeleton structures of building that would never be.

Depressed at the loss of the forest, I dug for another cookie, and then looked at my feet as I carefully gauged exactly where the worst invention rested. Fifty-eight steps and I was directly over it by fifty feet. Of course, I had not dug that. I used the Time Matrix to mold the world so there was the deep hole, and then I had rolled the orb and let it fall. And then I spent several days filling the hole with a shovel. My arms had been beyond sore, as Andalite arms aren't made for such activities. No doubt Loren would have helped if I had asked, but I didn't want to put her at risk with such knowledge. It was enough that she knew it was within this area.

It was so long ago, and yet, hardly at all. I could remember the feel of the Time Matrix, its glistening white surface. Now I wondered how it worked, what mechanisms were under the smooth shell, though it wouldn't have surprised me if it were solid all the way through.

There were no obvious stories about the creation of the Time Matrix. Yes, the Ellimists had created it, but there were no actual facts, even if there were facts from stories about the process. It had just come into being; the creation might have just been a plot device for the tale. But it did exist, beyond the stories. Did the Ellimists really create it, or one of their tormented believers? Andalites certainly hadn't. And why had it been created, such a dangerous thing?

Only Ellimists knew.

I kicked the ground, which had hardly any grass, annoyed at such a thing being allowed into existence. My life was defined by it, its secret and its use. I hoped that it wasn't somehow connected to the last being that controlled it. Let the worms and bacteria at that depth have that honor.

I ate another cookie as I walked a circle around the buried object, still stuck in the past. I wondered … I wondered if that universe we had created still existed, somewhere. If those strange beings were still there, if they had aged. Then I shuddered, because I remembered that Loren's mother, while correct in some things, was a terrible fraud and not anything near the whole of the truth.

I hoped that universe was gone.

How long would it lie here now? It had been under the Earth Pyramids of Giza for thousands of years, and who knew how long before that. How had it even come to Earth? Had it crashed and buried itself before humans were even humans? Had another alien species, desperate to be rid of it, tossed it onto this backwater planet?

Another mystery. Another I was not interested in the answer.

Another cookie gone, I decided to leave the ghost yard.

It wasn't long until I was it the outer edges of the forest. By then, my bag of cookies was empty – and I still hadn't decided a favorite, which meant more research was necessary – and I had to carry it, lest I litter. A bit deeper, I found my duffle and quickly stripped and demorphed. The clothing, garbage, and purchases in the bag, and I ran off to my claimed bit of forest, duffle over my shoulder.

I hid the duffle in the brush and then started to look for Aximili, curious as to what he was up to. He had avoided me, and I assumed it was because he disagreed with my decision to not go to the Pool and was angry. I knew he had spent some time with the other children, which pleased me. Hopefully he would start to interact with them on a friendly manner.

He was probably out running, doing foolish things like tormenting cougars that attacked him. He'd arrive soon enough. I'd enjoy the free time I got and set upon my assigned task, even though it was a very long shot. Perhaps it would please the children.

[~.~.~]

I should have suspected something when the children offered to take me to get food. I should have, but I am not naturally a suspicious being. And when Rachel spoke with her usual frankness, my reaction was all that could be expected: I nearly choked on my hamburger.

It was nearly a minute later before I cleared my throat, drinking the pop Cassie had quickly passed to me. Burning throat and teary eyes, I thought that the human throat was very poorly designed before I croaked out, "I beg your pardon?"

"An Ellimist," Rachel repeated.

"It's t-truooo, Elfangor," Aximili breathed, eyes wide.

Of course, I had no doubts about their honesty. But I still couldn't comprehend their words. Yes, I had met an Ellimist, but that was different, wasn't it? The Time Matrix, creating universes, playing with time … that made sense. That warranted an Ellimist's attentions. But the children, Aximili, what could they have done to draw the attention of one of those meddlers?

The children must have grown worried at my continued speechlessness. "We're not lying, Elfangor. He totally froze everything when we … when we were at Cassie's," Marco said. (Another time, I might have noticed his pause, but not now.)

I took a very deep breath and said, "What did he want?"

"So you believe us?" Tobias questioned, relieved.

My face twisted. "How does it go … There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. What did he say?"

"He wants to save Earth," Jake said.

Marco snorted. "No, he wants to make a private zoo."

"He said he'd take us to a place like Earth where there was no Yeerk threat," Cassie said softly. "If we wanted. Save our families."

"And you'd believe him?" My voice must have been bitterer than I meant, because they looked at me in surprise. I stood up from the park bench and paced. "And what did you say?"

"We turned him down, of course," Rachel said.

Part of me wanted to call them fools. While I would never trust an Ellimist, I didn't doubt this was a chance at their safety. "Why?" I murmured to myself.

"Why didn't we turn tail and run?"

I glared at her. "Perhaps, but why did he appear to you? Why did he offer it?"

"He said the Yeerks were going to win," Cassie said, and her voice was quiet and almost scared.

"Yooou don't think he wazz telling-ing the truth?" Aximili asked.

"Remember the stories – Ellimists always tell the truth," I sneered. "From a certain point of view."

"Yes, Obi-Wan." When my head snapped at him, Marco winced at my scowl.

"What else did he say?"

"He's going to ask us again," Jake said. "See if we changed our minds."

I shook my head and tried to think, and then suddenly wondered at the strange addition. "Why were you with them?" I asked my brother. "Why did he give the offer to you as well?"

Aximili looked frozen, like a proverbial deer in the headlights. "I-I-I I don't know."

"He was with us," Tobias suggested quickly.

"Yeah, that's probably it," Jake agreed.

"Didn't want him to feel left out," Marco added. "We're a team, solidarity and crap like that."

Frowning, I looked away from them and their reasoning. "What should that matter to Ellimists? Why wasn't I included when my brother was?" I could understand why I wasn't, because my presence could pressure the children to continue the fight out of loyalty, but that did not explain Aximili's. Why should one Andalite be present and not the other, especially when the concern was to save humans?

"So what are we going to do?" Rachel demanded.

I looked back at them, all sitting at the table. "What do you expect me to do?" I countered. "If it is an Ellimist, none of us have any power against them. They could destroy us with a blink of an eye." Shaking my head, I looked at them. "And I'm not going to tell you to turn down the offer."

"Would you?" Tobias asked.

It was a terrible question. I had already accepted an Ellimist's offer, and I, intellectually, knew it was the right decision, but, emotionally, it was also terribly wrong. "Ellimists only give offers that are difficult to refuse. Would I abandon Earth? No. But that would not be a difficult choice for me to make."

The children all looked at each other, nervous. They had wanted a straight answer, like all children do, but I wouldn't give them that. That wasn't my right.

[~.~.~]

‹SHOW YOURSELF!› I screamed to the sky. ‹I know you're there! How dare you!›

Of course, no one appeared. It would be a strange world if Ellimists appeared when you demanded them instead of when they wished.

How dare he force the children to make such a choice, to make himself known to them? To ignore me, their commanding officer, such as I was? To toy with them so? It was not right or fair. But, then again, Ellimists were never interested in what was fair, only in their own pleasures.

YOU DO HAVE THE LOWEST OPINION OF US, AFTER ALL WE'VE DONE FOR YOU.

My stalks whirled foolishly, my tail poised even though it was pointless. ‹Show yourself.›

There was laughter, and then universe shifted and he appeared as an Andalite. Yet it was odd, not a modern Andalite. Almost like an Andalite of earliest civilizations. He was harder, his tail blade longer and sharper, fur more wild, muscles and hooves larger. I frowned at the mockery. It would be as if, had I been human, he appeared as a Neanderthal. ‹Does this please you?›

I bristled. ‹How dare you involve the human children, my brother?›

He smiled. ‹You don't think they deserve the choice?›

‹It is no choice. Why have you involved them?›

‹You should be thankful I did.› He gave me a strange look, like he knew something I did not, but then of course he did. It was part of his description, omniscient. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, something deep in me felt like it was the truest thing he could have said, as if they had been in danger. But in Cassie's barn, I could not fathom how.

‹Perhaps. But why? You wish to save Earth, save the humans? Then tell me why you involved my brother. He is not human.›

The Ellimist waved his tail in a dismissive gesture, and, I admit, the ripple of movement riveted me in a primal awe. It was pure muscle, and no modern Andalte would ever overpower such a creature. ‹He is part of them. This is his battle.›

‹And it is not mine?› I demanded, partly insulted.

His smile was amused. ‹Perhaps. But you have done your service in this war.›

‹I'm not dead yet.›

‹But should you be?›

I narrowed my eyes, but I would not reply to something that very well might be true. It gave me no pleasure to imagine the Trickster might have saved my life by allowing a butterfly to flap its wings. ‹Leave the children be. They don't deserve your tricks.›

‹Whether or not you believe it, I am for them. It is the other player that means them harm.›

‹Other pla –› I trailed off at the memory of our last meeting.

‹Yes, and already he is angered with your humans.›

I frowned at the added danger. ‹Why? What have they done?›

Again he waved his tail. ‹They exist. He doesn't need more than that. Do you know that your human children are trying to destroy the Kandrona?›

No, I didn't know. ‹Why are you telling me this?›

There, again, was his infernal smile. And then, like Wonderland's Cheshire Cat, he faded away until only his smiling eyes remained, mocking me, until they faded as well with an impertinent wink.

It would be difficult to determine which angered me more – the Ellimist, or the children who had obviously disobeyed my orders and tried to learn the secrets of the Kandrona in Cassie's barn, contemplate dangerous missions that brought Ellimist attention to them.

[~.~.~]

‹So, the Kandrona?› I said very evenly, and almost instantly everyone was nervous and avoided my gaze. Aximili, with four eyes, was doing it twice as hard as everyone else. ‹Did I or did I not tell you to not look for it?›

"You … you told not to go down into the Pool," Marco said, a hesitant tone unlike himself. Hopeful.

I glared at him. ‹Yes. I wasn't aware I had to tell you to not continue the search.›

Suddenly, they all relaxed, and I was baffled as to why.

"We had to do something," Rachel said.

‹You are too over-eager to get yourselves killed,› I snapped. ‹You know nothing about Kandrona rays, and Aximili knows little more.› For a moment, my brother almost protested, but then stopped himself. ‹I don't even want to know what you talked about.›

"No problem. We'll never say a word," Marco promised, beaming.

"Maybe you should just not say another word," Jake muttered.

I glared at them. ‹However, because you all have been so interested in the Kandrona, I constructed a very primitive detector of the radiation.› As I spoke, I picked up a cardboard box and withdrew the electronic device. I frowned and shook my stalks in disgust. ‹Very primitive.›

"So we could find the Kandrona with this?" Rachel said eagerly as I flicked it on, and the soft noise emanated, the meter pointing to the general direction of the source.

‹No,› my brother said quietly. ‹The city is filled with the radiation.›

I nodded. ‹It would be able to pick up a source within five square blocks, but it could be in the Pool or on the ship.› With a careless hand, I flicked it off.

"If it can't work, why'd you make it?" Cassie asked.

‹All of you believed that finding the Kandrona would benefit, except none of you had a viable plan that wouldn't put us in extreme danger. While this is not much of a plan, it offers less of a risk at death.›

They all shifted nervously again.

"So we're going to use it, find the general location, and then spy?" Jake asked.

I shrugged. ‹As I said, it isn't much of a plan.›

"Better than ours," Marco muttered.

Smiling kindly, I consoled, ‹You are young and impatient. Eventually you will learn that sometimes you must stop before you can start.›

They were awkward, and then, to my eyes, they were shocked. Rachel had nearly rammed her fist into me. I had to duck aside and she yelled when her fist met a tree. ‹What are you doing?!› I demanded.

"Gah! I am so sick of this!" she swore, gripping her fist.

‹Wha--›

"The Ellimist. He … he showed us the future," Jake said.

"It wasn't the good future, either," Marco said. "Where I'm wealthy and women throw themselves at me."

"They won. They were everywhere," Cassie whispered. "It was awful."

"I was a Controller."

My eyes darted between them, shocked. How … they had been taken even while I stood! Of all the gall!

‹Maybe it was a trick,› Aximili suggested in a tone that said he didn't really believe what he was suggesting.

‹What did you see?› I asked tonelessly, and then listened to their over-lapping words. I hid my shudder at their retelling of how Visser Three – no, Visser One had gloated about killing me, how he had devoured me alive in front of them.

If that was in my future … well, at least I was prepared. (A time frame for when it would possibly happen would have been nice, though.) And I would face my death with honor.

"Should we accept?" Marco asked quietly, giving me a sidelong glance.

‹It is your choice,› I repeated. However, I felt uneasy, and not only because of my history with one. I remembered the tales of the Ellimists, of their trickery. True, none of their stories were especially interesting to me – Aximili preferred them, if I recall my parents' messages correctly – but I heard them often enough to be wary. There was always a trick, always an ambiguity. Ellimists were like lawyers, full of misleading words and talents for creating loopholes. (When I say lawyers, I mostly refer to my former college roommate, George Lawrence, though he always went by his surname. I hadn't liked the human at all, at least not until he stopped trying to trap me with his rhetoric, and he only stopped that after I dismantled every piece of electronic equipment he had in our shared quarters. Even now, I recall he did me the greatest insult by claiming I couldn't put lowly human electronics back together again. After that, we got along splendidly, provided no one made us talk to each other for extended periods of time.)

With such knowledge in my mind, I felt I had to warn the children. ‹But, don't not base it upon what you saw.› They were confused. ‹Do not second-guess history. Time … time is mobile, interlinking, the future unwritten, even if you see it.›

"You mean that won't happen?" Tobias said.

‹I cannot say.› Honestly, I couldn't, but I remembered an old tale about planning your life around a future event. ‹But, you must ask yourself, when was that future true?›

"Uh, you lost me there," Marco said, raising his hand like he was in a classroom. He wasn't the only one. Even Aximili looked confused.

This was too complicated to explain. ‹Imagine … imagine I tell you that tomorrow you have oatmeal for breakfast,› I said slowly. ‹Had I not told you, you certainly would have had oatmeal. But now you know that you will, or should. So now you ask: do I have oatmeal, or do I have eggs? Do I have oatmeal because I was told I did, or because I would have normally?›

The humans, at least, were still confused, even if there was slight touch of understanding. I tried another analogy. ‹You have an exam. Your future self tells yourself that you failed it. But he or she did not tell you why you failed. Did you not study? Or did you? Because you know you failed, do you not study and fail, creating a self-fulfilling prophesy, or so you study and risk success?

‹The future is malleable. It hasn't been written yet. Or maybe it has. The question you must ask is, do you want certain failure, or a chance of failure?› I made a lop-sided smile. ‹Perhaps a very large chance, but even still.›

‹The Tale of the Forest that Never Was,› Aximili said suddenly with a slight smile. I inclined my head, a bit embarrassed at being caught referencing of a tale for our young.

"What's that?" Tobias asked.

Aximili grinned a bit devilishly. ‹It is an Andalite parable. Mother used to say it was one of Elfangor's favorites.›

It still is, but I didn't say that.

Cassie was interested. "What's it about?"

‹It tells about a herd of Andalites who make their plans around a forest they plan on planting, because they are told they will never have a forest, except they are so worried about everything that it never is planted. For over one-hundred years they model their lives as if there would be a forest – if a forest is planted, the meadows are gone, so they start not eating there in preparation, but their herd is foolish and over-feeds on the grass. The suns won't shine in certain areas because the shade the trees will provide, so they no longer plant delicate plants, even though the forest isn't growing and the suns shine clearly. They are very stupid Andalites.›

The children chuckled at Aximili's summary. "How's it end?" Jake asked.

‹A visitor comes and listens to the herd's woes, and he tells them the forest is too much work and they must fell it, except, of course, there is no forest to fell and the herd finally sees its folly.› My brother rolled his stalk eyes. ‹It is supposed to teach us the dangers of putting so much thought into things that would be and ending up not seeing what is.›

"You were such a geek as a child," Marco said, looking at me with humorous disgust. "Never heard of Jack and his magic beans?"

"Hey, I think I liked their story," Cassie protested.

‹In fact, Marco, I hadn't. And that tale is hardly geeky. It is actually very humorous.› Especially when Father told it. I was almost positive he added bit that were never in the original story, because when Mother listened, the tale was always dramatically different and not nearly as funny. (Though perhaps Mother had not thought those portions were appropriate for my age.) When I was very young, I used to have trouble breathing during the especially good portions, and perhaps Father's theatrics assisted in that.

"Andalite sense of humor," he stage-whispered. "Never very funny."

For a moment, the mood was lighthearted, and then the children remembered the Ellimist's offer.

Part of me was gladdened they decided to turn it down, again, but another could not help but feel the most terrible guilt at influencing them, especially with a tale told to Andalite young so they would settle down and go to sleep.

[~.~.~]

There was a basic flaw in my plan, being that you can't exactly walk unobtrusively down a street with a home-made Kandrona radiation detector. While certainly smaller than what a human would have made, it was still large enough to draw attention from the average human, not to mention a Controller. But, as it happened, I didn't have to, because in the middle of the next night, Rachel flew and proudly proclaimed she knew where the Kandrona was. Listening to her in Cassie's barn, with all of the sleepy children, I had to agree that her logic made sense. The EGS Tower was tall, able to send unobstructed signals over a large range, and near the center of the city.

After destroying the Kandrona, a few days later I approached Rachel. ‹When did you acquire a grizzly bear?›

Her eyes were wide, guilty. "Umm, you know, a few days ago?"

‹Rachel, what are you hiding from me? You have been jumpy.› I did not say that all of the children, even Aximili, had been, but Rachel was the worst.

"I have?" She tried to grin and pretend.

Unmoved, I stared at her.

"It's …. It's my Dad!" She said it like a sudden epiphany. "He wanted me to move in with him. Out of state."

I was surprised. ‹I wasn't aware.›

"Oh, it's all right. I'm not moving. Got to still kick Yeerk butt, you know. Save the planet. Yeah," she said in a fast voice, bright smile.

There was something else, but I wasn't sure what. ‹I am sorry you had to make such a choice.›

Rachel forced a shrug. "It was no big."

Of course she was lying, but I did not counter. She knew the truth.

[~.~.~]

With the destruction of the Kandrona, there was the promise of things being slightly low-key. It would take three weeks for another to arrive, and it would be very unlikely for the Yeerks to waste their energies and resources on grandiose plans when all of such things would be needed to keep their numbers steady.

Hmmm. It almost makes one wish the Yeerks would cause trouble.

As such, it promised to at least promise be a nice weekend. Rachel, after much protesting, was to go to a gymnastics retreat. The other children were to go to a party. Except Marco.

Unfortunately.

"I mean, it's obvious. Darlene likes me. There's no other possible explanation."

The poor child was obviously delusional.

‹Is that common among humans, to avoid the one you like?› Aximili asked. I almost yelled at him for encouraging the boy. However, I didn't, because it was a polite conversation between the two, focusing on connecting the wires for the television and antenna. Eventually my brother would become friendlier with them. These past few days had certainly started that, though I'm not quite sure of the reason. But it was enough that it was happening.

Yet, if Aximili did continue to try to learn about the human culture from Marco, I was going to have my work cut out when I tried to properly teach him.

"Not like. Like. I like you, Ax. But I don't like you. There's like, and then there's like, like," Marco continued.

‹I am confused,› Ax said.

Honestly, I probably would have been too, if I hadn't understood a little about Earth mating culture. ‹I believe that is because Marco is probably also confused as to her true motives as well.› (Of course, there was the slight chance Marco was correct. However, I considered it a very slim slight chance.)

Marco shook his head. "No, it's completely obvious. You just can't see it, because you're Andalites. Earth girls, they're like that."

‹Contrary and confusing?›

"See, now you're getting it."

I paused, because such an argument might actually be a productive one. Aximili was casting me an eye, and I subtly signaled him to not add to this nonsense with a very slight tail turn. ‹Is there a reason you are complaining to us and not, say, your father?› I asked, untangling a knot in the wires.

Marco looked scandalized at such a suggestion, but he recovered. "I think it would be a great cultural experience if say, Ax, joined me in a sort of, how do you say –"

‹Party crashing spree,› I said and smirked at his shocked expression at my use of the Earth vernacular. ‹Marco, you are not attempting to sneak into this party in some morph, are you?›

"I would never even contemplate the idea."

‹Then what are you contemplating?›

"I just thought Ax would like to go."

‹I haven't been invited either,› Aximili pointed out.

"I have it all figured out. We can say you're Jake's cousin or something, and that you're visiting and you just want to spend time with him. And I gallantly escort you to the party."

‹And are promptly dismissed because Darlene doesn't wish you present,› I said.

"I'm doing this for Ax, Elfangor. Not for me."

‹And yet you felt the need to complain about Darlene first. Forgive me if it makes me find your motives suspicious.› I shook my head at him. ‹However, if Aximili wishes, I will not forbid him from attending.›

Aximili looked at me like I was the worst sort of traitor. ‹I don't wish it,› he said with extreme formality.

For just a second, Marco was panicked, and then he shrugged. "Oh, well. Thought you might like to, is all. I mean, there's a pool, and Darlene probably has tons of food and soda."

I quickly hid my smile as Aximili started to look a bit more interested.

"I mean, at her last party, her parents ordered like thirty pizzas, and there was a cake and chips and cold cuts and everything. But since you don't want to go—"

‹Perhaps … I was a bit too hasty. If my brother doesn't mind my attendance …›

‹You may go and enjoy yourself,› I said. ‹Any trouble that occurs I shall firmly blame upon Marco.›

"What, hey!"

‹Not that I am thinking you will get in any sort of trouble. Go, have fun. It will be a great experience, Aximili.›

I smiled to myself as they disappeared and started to finish the connections. Pool parties were always fun. And, turning on the television and grinning when it came to life with public broadcast, so could human entertainment.

‹Now, what do I need to get cable on this thing?›

[~.~.~]

I had always wanted to see the mall destroyed, but preferably when I was not in it. I had only gone to Radio Shack to purchase some needed supplies, but I had possibly eaten a bit too many sugary treats – I was hungry! – and, since none of the others were around to witness me misuse the morphing ability in such a way, I made my way to the nearest clothing store. Their dressing rooms had doors that went to the floor; the bathrooms did not.

In the dressing room, at first I had barely noticed the noise until the roof started to be torn away and everyone started screaming. (This part of the mall was two stories, and I was on the first.)

I admit, I screamed as well, as I was nearly human again, and, half-dressed, I did start to escape, tripping on my pants. On the ground I rolled and tried to pull and zip them up as everyone else round me tried to run over me and scream in a panic. It was not very conducive to my concentration! And such a position very possibly was made worse by seeing the giant swirling vortex of something destroying the mall directly over my head.

"Oh … botyeli," I gasped as the thing apparently looked at me. I swear by my tail – even if I didn't currently have one – that it did. I twisted and tripped to my feet and tried to run, over the splintered wood in my bare feet. I kept running, joining the mob of people also running and screaming.

The mall continued being destroyed as I ran, destroyed in a direct trail. But that really wasn't on my mind, because I was busy trying to escape in this very slow human form with perhaps the whole of the city in the mall, all screaming and yelling and with wood and clothing and equipment flying. There was crying and screaming, people stampeding over each other. Another time, I might have stopped to help, but I was pretty sure I was the one being chased.

Unfortunately, I tripped over something and went sprawling to the ground. People continued trying to escape, kicking me, and I curled into a ball just for a second before I remembered I needed to get away more than the rest of the humans did. But it was too late, because I saw the thing hovering directly over me.

I was trapped, doomed.

And yet … the whirling dust mass wavered and suddenly dissipated.

Chest heaving, I tried to think and calm down, but adrenaline was still in my blood and I must have remained stunned for several minutes. Around me, humans were calming and milling in their hopeless, unsure ways.

Someone was then over me, next to me, shaking my shoulder. "Sir, sir, are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?"

I turned my head to the security guard and tried to push myself up, but winced and fell back down. And, looking at my feet, they were bleeding. "Umm … could you direct me to the nearest shoe store, please?"

"You're in shock, Sir. Just remain calm; the ambulances are already on their way. Everything will be fine."

Yeah, sure, you could say that. You weren't just attacked by a … a dust monster. Deep in my bones, I knew it was the Yeerks and I cursed myself. It was me who thought it'd be a good idea for the Yeerks to use resources during their Kandrona crisis. What do the humans say? Ah, yes, be careful what you wish for, or you might just get it.

Just get it, is right.

[~.~.~]

"You destroyed the mall?" Marco said, laughing. I almost regretted calling Darlene's home to request all of their presence to speak about this. "You are so lucky Rachel is at camp, because she is going to kil—"

"Marco," I hissed from the sofa, picking off the bandages from my feet very slowly. The human paramedics hadn't let me leave without at least pretending they were doing something for my benefit. "I highly suggest you. Silence. Yourself." How humans had ever evolved with such fragile feet?

"I'm not sure she is at camp," Cassie said, looking at the TV. "Jake, rewind it."

"Brother, why I don't you oooo demorph to heal. Eel?" Aximili asked me, concerned.

"I will, but it is not worth such an action for a minor pain. I can survive this." He looked like he didn't believe me. "What do you see?"

Jake answered. "It's the news report. There was another tornado –"

"Tornado, my tail," I muttered.

"–on the highway."

After the tape was rewound, Cassie leaned forward as the scene went by frame-by-frame. "Look at that girl," she said, tapping the screen. "Tall. Blond hair. Barefoot. Wearing a black leotard."

Everyone understood what she was pointing out. "It's Rachel!" Tobias vocalized.

Cassie nodded. "She must have just come out of a morph. That's her suit, and she's barefoot."

"I thought she was going to that camp," I said.

"Hey, don't you know what means?" Marco interrupted. "First, it comes after you," he said, pointing to me, "and then appears where Rachel was? I think not!" I agreed.

"It would be a huge coincidence," Tobias voiced.

"Do you know what it could have been, that thing that attacked you?" Jake asked.

I shook my head. "No, but that doesn't bother me. I want to know how it found me. And then Rachel. And why it isn't finding us now."

"Do you think she's all right?" Cassie asked, as the rest of them realized that we didn't know if Rachel was still safe. If she had been attacked and had escaped, she would have come and told us. But she hadn't. Not yet, anyway.

"I don't know. First we have to find out if she did go."

Almost instantly, Cassie was at the phone and checking, but it wasn't anything we wanted to hear.

"So she was attacked on the way?" Tobias asked.

I leaned back and thought, tried to think. "No. She'd have taken the bus. It would have attacked that or the camp itself. She was close to the city. Her fastest morph would be …" I trailed off, hit by the thought, and the children answered.

"Her eagle."

"The wolf?"

I waved my hand. "No, no, no. She morphed. Recently. No shoes. I was finishing my morph."

"Could that please be a coincidence?" Marco asked.

Aximili was looking worried, eyes wide, and I knew it was because both of us had dwindling time limits. Most likely his time remaining was even less than mine, and I had little more than an hour. Aximili did not like to get his time too low.

"So it had you, why didn't it take you?" Jake said.

I wanted to pace, but my feet were too injured to allowed that. "I don't know. Maybe it got distracted. Maybe … yes, the mall was attacked first, wasn't it?" Blank stares met me. "The news report?"

Jake jerked and quickly rewound the tape. "Ye….yeah, yeah, they're saying …"

"Jake, we can hear," Marco interrupted, and Jake blushed then glared.

"Y-you bel-believe it is actually. Lee morph-fing-ing that at-attracts its attention? Tion."

I nodded.

"So … what are you guys going to do?" Tobias asked.

Very carefully I started putting on my shoes. "Split up. If it's attracted to morphing, we separate and morph at different times. If we get far enough away, it will be fine. Hopefully." I stood up, wincing. "How much time do you have left, Aximili?"

"A-appro-pproximately twenty-seven percent. But. But Elfan –"

I turned and looked at him. "Get to the woods and demorph in … in twenty-five Earth minutes."

"Where are you going?" Cassie asked.

"As far away as possible." I looked back at my brother. "I'll morph in twenty-six, from now. Hopefully that will be enough."

"You can barely walk," Marco said.

"I'm not walking. I'm temporarily borrowing Cassie's father's truck." When Cassie opened her mouth, I interrupted, "I won't even put a scratch on it. The rest of you, see if you can find Rachel. No morphing unless absolutely necessary."

I started hobbling away, and of course they followed me. "And then what do we do?" Jake said. "How can we fight the Yeerks if we can't morph?"

"As Jake said, it's a new Yeerk weapon," Marco continued, not exactly quoting his friend. "We've got to do something."

"Yes, and we can start by not seeing if, once caught by that dust monster, it will follow the P.O.W. treatment guidelines set down by N.A.T.O. or if it will merely give an encore performance of the mall upon our forms," I grunted in pain, finally managing to get to the truck. Once the door was open and I was inside, and off my feet, there was the momentary relief, which was of course followed by the throbbing pain. "Personally, given its actions thus far, I'd rather not find out."

I may get a little snippy when I am in pain, and I started looking for the keys.

"In the cup holder," Cassie said.

"Thank you." I started the car and leaned out the window. "All of you, just be careful. I should get back within three hours, so we can reconvene then, at my forest. Be sure to stop at home and eat supper, otherwise your parents will worry. And you, twenty-two minutes," I said to my brother before driving away.

[~.~.~]

I drove fast and a tad recklessly, but I had to get to the other side – or at least to a different side – of town as well as be close enough so I could return easily without morphing. I was ten miles away from Cassie's home, and I pulled into a side road

There was a bit of teeth-gritting as I left the truck and made my feet support my full weight, and then some very mild Andalite curses as I traipsed deeper into the woods. I had five minutes to get out of sight of the road and away from Cassie's father's truck. (I did promise I wouldn't let a scratch fall on it. A falling tree would probably cause, among other things, a scratch.)

At my prescribed time, I threw the clothes and shoes off and started to slowly morph, leery. There was no actual proof that this thing was attracted by morphing. I had merely based that off of coincidences, but, if it was true, it was a better that the children didn't morph. Better safe than sorry.

Yet, even though there was no physical proof, there was circumstantial, so I was worried. I had to do it, though, because Aximili could be suffering its attention, being captured. I was more terrified of my brother being taken than I was of being in danger personally.

For the first few changes, it was entirely possible that I had been wrong. Nothing appeared. But then there was a change, the twisting in the air, the whirling.

Okay, Elfangor, you got its attention. Let's speed up the morphing now, I thought as I went through the change faster and tried to run. I regained by true form soon enough and took to my hooves, as it tore the forest canopy apart above me.

And then I realized a slight oversight in my plan. I had drawn the thing's attention away from Aximili.

There was no one to draw it away from me.

For the dimmest, barest of seconds, I contemplated turning and fighting, but then I remembered the mall, paid careful note to the destruction behind me, and tossed that idea aside in the You Never Even Thought About Thinking To Do That pile.

I dodged and weaved, working my hooves' to their fullest, hoping that the trees – I do hope they forgive me – could offer some resistance. But I was very much aware of myself and my predicament. Andalites may be fast runners, evolved to a peak of perfection, but we did not run indefinitely. And I would have to go through the phases of Andalite running. As a male, I was good on the quick start, but I would lose stamina on the middle ground, then would hit a stride on the long distance until I wearied. (Female Andalites were very good on the quick start, but fell after the first burst to remain very steady for the rest of the run; their endurance was nothing an experienced male Andalite runner forgot about in a race.) Oh, I could run for a few hours, especially with such an incentive behind me, but I would tire and slow eventually.

And run out of places to run. I couldn't run into civilization, but I would eventually run out of wood, hit open meadows. Plus, there was the additional problem that, if this dragged out too long, humans were guaranteed to become interested in this new long-lasting and all-destructive "tornado" and get helicopters or whatever they got with their news crews, and then I'd have to worry about dodging cameras as well as this thing if I didn't want to end up on the eight o'clock news, and that would just bring Yeerk attention to me, if it already wasn't on me, and then Visser Three would probably order a nice flat of grass and settle to watch, cheer the thing on.

… Or target me from space. That was always another option he'd probably enjoy, given our history. He'd probably miss a few times on purpose too, just for laughs.

Having four eyes almost required me to keep an eye on the thing behind me, to see the damage and how much closer it was appearing. But, so short in the run – not even forty-five minutes – it wavered and disappeared. For a moment, I hesitated, doing the half-run young ones commonly do when they are uncertain, because was this a strange sort of trick? My chest was heaving and I had slight perspiration.

It did not reappear and I tried to relax, wondered why. Had it lost interest after such a chase?

Or had something else drawn its attention?

No, I had told the children and Aximili not to morph … except Rachel. It meant she was in danger. Without a thought, I started to morph, slowly and with no intention of completing it, hoping to draw its attention back to me. If Rachel was morphing, she didn't know its danger, and probably wasn't going into a fast morph.

I kept morphing, slowly, drawing it out until I had to reverse or risk becoming the hoober. And still slowly I controlled it, growing very worried with nothing started to chase me. Had it already gotten her?

Whole again, after a full five minutes of drawn-out morphing, I started to run back to Cassie's. Something was happening, and I had to learn what. Had Rachel, or someone else, been taken? Was the thing merely distracted?

Or was it full from a successful hunt?

[~.~.~]

I had to take the most scenic tour back to my forest, keeping to the forests and making quick risks at roads and other places. When I made it to the woods, I called for my brother. He would be around, because in this hunt for Rachel, neither of us could help.

In only took me a fifteen yells before I became concerned when Aximili did not respond back. I mean, I didn't expect him to be present on my arrival, and I didn't expect him to materialize in front of me at the first call. I could be practical. But the more I called for him, the more the worry grew.

He should be safe, be here. The creature, it should have been distracted by me.

But then, something distracted it from me. I would have turned ghostly white if I had been human. Aximili was always clever … he would have realized my mistake. He didn't … did he try to distract it as well? He was younger than me, naturally slower. Maybe he hadn't escaped …

No! No, I wouldn't do this to myself. I had to focus. He might be fine, searching the forest elsewhere beyond my range of call.

… And, if he wasn't, if he had been captured … if he was dead … I couldn't do anything about that now. I knew nothing about this creature. I had to remain focused. If only for the other children. They were looking to me, and a Prince had to remain calm in the crisis, give orders, take care of the survivors.

I went to my area of the forest and waited, pacing back and forth. The children would be arriving soon.

And arrive they did, in pairs. Marco and Jake. Cassie and Tobias. Tobias asked the question before even I could, "Where's Ax?"

I did stiffen. ‹He did not tell you where he was going?›

The four children looked at each other, then me. "No. I mean, Cassie and I sort of stuck around to make sure he was all right when he demorphed, but he said he was going to run in the forest. I thought he'd meet up with you or see if Rachel got lost."

"You don't think …" Cassie started.

‹My brother is a fine warrior. None of you learned anything of Rachel?›

Jake shook his head. "We went to where she was on TV and tried to see if she was still around, we would have gone wolf, but … well, we didn't get anything."

Cassie cast a look at Tobias. "We might have learned something, but not about Rachel. We went downtown, by the mall –"

"A total disaster area, and loaded with members of The Sharing doing clean-up," Tobias interrupted.

"Well, it is directly over the Yeerk pool," Jake said.

"Anyway, Chapman was there, and he was there with a bunch of other people. We tried to get close without getting caught, but this thing, it's the Yeerks."

"He was completely swearing about Visser Three's new pet destroying everything. I mean, it might be a good thing the mall got destroyed, since it caused so much damage."

‹Did you overhear anything about this creature?›

"It's called a Vel-something." Cassie paused. "And, we think they said morph-hunter." Another pause. "You don't think they have Rachel, do you?"

I looked intently at her, almost feeling her worry for her friend. I did not want to lie. ‹If they do, she is not infested,› I finally said.

It wasn't an answer any wanted to hear. Part of me felt defeated.

"We got to get rid of this thing, if we're going to keep on fighting the Yeerks," Jake said.

Thank you for the obvious. But I didn't say that, because Marco interrupted, "Since Rachel isn't here, I'll speak for her and say, let's kick this thing's butt. But how?"

"Giant vacuum?" Tobias suggested after a very long moment. We all looked at him and he turned defensive. "Hey, it looked like dust to me. Or a swarm of bugs that you always can't avoid when you're on your bike."

"Giant can of Raid," Marco grinned.

"Flyswatter," Jake said.

"Can of Off-Repellent."

‹All right, that is enough.› Though part of me wanted to smile as well, because sometimes you desperately need something to take your mind off reality. ‹It is late, nearly nine. Your parents will worry. I will see you to the edge of the wood.›

"At least it's warm out," Cassie said as they started to walk. "If Rachel … or Ax," she added, giving me a quick look, "is out there somewhere, it's a warm night. And there's a bright moon to help them find their ways home."

We all looked up, almost instinctually. It was a lovely moon. Barren, but a nice feature in the sky.

Until something started to obscure it. The faint shimmering of dust.

"Look!" Marco exclaimed.

"What was it? A cloud?" Cassie asked, far too hopefully.

‹What is that way?› I demanded.

"The city?"

I scowled at them. I knew that much. What I didn't know was what humans saw.

"There's some new housing," Tobias said, recognizing the look. "They're nice."

"It's after someone. Ax, or Rachel," Jake said. "Should we try to distract it, again?"

"You want to play keep away, again?" Marco asked, then said, "We're doing it, right?"

‹Yes.›

"We have to. If those are houses that way, it'll destroy them," Cassie said. "But we can't just morph. We'll just attract it to my house."

We were going to have to do something quickly. While I could morph and run, I had no interest in a repeat of that method, not without a bit more thorough planning. ‹Do any of you know how to drive?›

"No! You can't steal another one of my parents' cars! My dad totally flipped out when he noticed it was missing. He loves that truck!"

‹It's perfectly fine! And you do have neighbors.›

"I can drive!" Marco said, raising his hand and grinning. "I scored like a million points on Wipeout."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, but it would make do. ‹Very well. Tobias, Jake, Cassie, start biking to the city. He'll pick you up. Marco, up.› I quickly approached him.

"Whoa, what?" He wasn't the only one surprised. The other children were wearing similiar faces.

‹On my back,› I said testily.

"I don't ride. And I wouldn't feel comfortable. I don't know you that well."

‹Marco! Up! This is not the time.›

"You're too big! Way up there! How am I –"

"Here, we'll help," Cassie said, locking her hands to make a stir-up but stopped when I bent down.

‹Get on.› Marco still looked unsure. ‹Marco, you will be perfectly safe. The rest of you, go. We'll be on the highway within three minutes.›

As the three took off, Marco hesitantly got on my back. "You're sure about this?"

‹I've got a bit of experience,› I said drolly and stood up. He nearly screamed at the rocking motion. Turning an eye on him, I said, ‹Now hold on tightly.›

He had barely managed to obey my order when I ran, and he did scream and clutch. "I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die!"

‹Marco, do have a little faith in me.›

"And Cassie likes doing this?! She's insane."

I ignored him and focused onto getting to Cassie's neighbor. It didn't take very long, and I carefully looked around from the woods. There! The red pick-up truck.

"You want me to drive that?" Marco sighed. "Elfangor, I love you, man."

‹Shhh.› I slipped into the open, trotting as silently as possible. Alongside the machine, I told Marco to dismount.

He looked down. "Umm, yeah, about that –"

I bent my knees so he could slide off. ‹Get in and drive to get the others. I'm going to run ahead, morph and give it the distraction. I would be much appreciative if someone would morph in, say, fifteen minutes.›

"Oh, this is so beautiful," he said, ghosting his hand, opening the door, sliding inside, and relaxing.

‹Marco!›

He jumped. "Yeah, yeah. Key, keys. Ahh! Got 'em. Oh, baby, me and you. Oh, yeah, listen to that purr."

‹Go, Marco.›

I turned and ran, but then quickly stopped at the crash of a tipped over trash receptacle. "Just accidentally put it in reverse! I'm okay! Kay, got it, bye!" And he – dangerously swerving – left and got onto the road.

‹Elfangor, you might have put them in more danger!› I muttered to myself. But it was no time to worry, as I had to run.

It didn't take me long to get to the trouble, or at least where I could hear it actually happening. The mass of destruction and all told me the right direction, as well as the trumpeting of an elephant. Rachel, then. (Part of me did feel disappointed that is wasn't Aximili.) I shook my head. Rachel was probably causing just as much damage as the creature. It sounded like she was enjoying hitting garbage cans.

I couldn't go down there, because it was too much civilization, too many human eyes. So, I started to morph, rocking back and forth in the early stages. And, unfortunately, it worked.

For the second time, I ran from this terrifying creature, back into the woods. I just had to run for ten minutes, that would be easy enough, then it would turn to someone else. I'd morph again in five minutes.

It was not any less terrifying a second time. But I kept running. It would have been a good plan, if I hadn't hit the meadow. Without the trees, it went even faster, possibly faster than me. It was too open, nothing to divert the thing. I couldn't make it to the other side of the meadow, that was easy to calculate. I had figure out how to double back.

But then I didn't have to, because it wavered again and faded away. I felt relief and laughed, for once thankful that humans couldn't monitor time internally, for one of them had morphed four minutes early. Even still, it meant I had to run back, to get back. And then I had to remember to not come this way when I was chased for a third time.

I was back to where I started when I needed to provide a distraction. Yet, once again, I was not chased. This was bad. I kept trying to morph, desperate to be chased again, because the last time I wasn't attacked, I lost Aximili. Who would be this time?

‹Elfangor!›

I jumped to see Cassie overhead – or I assumed Cassie, for there were four owls. ‹You've morphed?›

‹Yeah,› Jake said.

‹It got Marco,› Tobias said quietly.

I briefly closed my eyes. ‹But we have found Rachel, haven't we?›

‹Uh, yeah, I'm here. I little worse for wear, I guess.›

I took a deep breath. ‹You had best return home quickly and demorph. We cannot be sure how long it will ignore morphing. And tomorrow … tomorrow we'll figure this out. Hopefully.›

‹If my parents even let me out of the house. I am so grounded,› Jake sighed.

‹We can call from my house. Pretend we fell asleep or something,› Tobias suggested. ‹Maybe that will help.›

‹If it doesn't, we'll worry tomorrow. Home, all of you.›

‹You can stay with me, Rachel,› Cassie said as they flew off in different directions.

Once they were out of sight, I allowed my shoulders fall and feel utterly dejected, dropped my tail and started the slow trek home as well. I failed, again. Someone else taken by that vile creature. I didn't know how they could be rescued, if they could. I didn't know how to stop this creature.

This creature had only been attacking us one day, and already two of us had been taken. It would take each of us, in turn. If it even had to. Marco had been taken. If he was still alive, he could be infested. The children would be taken. (I knew, if Aximili had been taken, what he would do to avoid being infested. What any honorable Andalite would do. I could not think too long on it, because my failure would have led to his action.)

I made it to my bit of forest and gave the television a half-hearted kick. I should watch the news, see what was commonly known, but I couldn't, not now. So, instead, I started weaving the simple scoop cover from the branches and whatnot, trying not to think. Even though there was little light, the ability was so ingrained in me – into any Andalite, really – that I could have done it with my eyes closed.

‹Elfangor.›

I jumped and looked around. ‹Aximili!› I called, desperately happy and trying to control it at least a little. It wouldn't do to show too much concern.

The bird landed sloppily and started to demorph. ‹Yes.›

‹You escaped!› I was grinning, even as I sounded calm. ‹How?›

‹I morphed a flea, one that survived your flea powder treatment. A very ineffective method, thankfully. Marco and I then jumped from the ship.›

‹Marco, he is all right as well?›

‹Yes.› He was almost whole. ‹The creature, the Yeerks call it a Veleek. It is Visser Three's new pet.›

I then noticed that, even though my brother was morphing, there was no Veleek bent on his capture. ‹It is not attacking us now,› I said, as one eye looked up at the night sky.

‹Yes. It's been doused with water. That's how the Yeerks control it. It is made up of small insects from the planet called Saturn. The Yeerks trained it to find morphing energy, but feed on the energy from their engines.›

‹Water.› I mused on this. Well, thankfully we were next to the ocean. I didn't think on this very long, because I noticed Aximili standing uncertain. ‹Is there something else, Aximili?›

‹He knows you're here,› he said quietly. ‹When the Veleek was chasing you, he had it on the screen.›

To torment Aximili, I realized, because there was nothing worse than seeing your comrades being taken when you could do nothing. ‹I trust that didn't exactly please him,› I said with a lightness.

‹When you were being chased, he was quite gleeful. He said something about tables being turned. But when the Veleek changed targets, didn't take you, he killed two Taxxons and a Hork-Bajir.›

‹Esplin never could take disappointment well.›

‹I'm sorry.› His tone was very quiet, ashamed.

I blinked. ‹For what?›

‹I should have attacked him. But I was … I was afraid.› He was avoiding meeting my gaze, ashamed with himself.

I had to speak carefully. ‹Aximili, I would never expect you to attack Visser Three.›

‹Why? Because you know I will fail?› There was ire and disappointment in his tone.

‹No, that is certainly not why.› Though I knew it was high odds that he would. Prince Alloran is older, far more experienced. Aximili is still a child.

‹Then because I am a child, a mere aristh.›

I gave a quiet laugh. ‹I was once an aristh, Aximili.› I paused. ‹And I was an aristh when I first saw Visser Three. I could have fought him then, but I did not.› I did not think it necessary to mention I didn't because Visser Three had chosen to return to a black hole than face me.

‹I did not know you faced the Abomination then,› he said, surprised.

Avoiding his gaze I said, ‹There is much you do not know about me. But I am not disappointed in your actions.›

‹Why, then?›

It was difficult to explain. How could I admit that I didn't want my brother to face a suicide mission, but yet sound like I had faith in him, how I felt Visser Three was my responsibility, not his? ‹Because I am … relieved you know when not to fight. I've fought alongside warriors, fought briefly, who never learned that vital lesson. There is no point risking your life when you could keep it and learn something. There is no honor in taking your fighter, alone, against a platoon. All you've done is made it so next time, when there would be a battle that matters, has a chance of be being a turning point, another warrior does not have someone watching his tail, another enemy he must deal with alone.›

Aximili was looking at me like he didn't trust my words, but he was desperately trying. He wanted to believe I was telling the truth, but his pride held him back. ‹You think I would have died, then, if I had attacked.›

‹What do you think?›

He was quiet. ‹I would have.›

‹As would I, or any Andalite. Even if you could have gotten a blow, on a Yeerk ship, you would have been struck down before you could try again by those with him.›

‹Would you have attacked?›

I gave a little laugh. ‹I think my situation would have been a bit different. Visser Three would have shot me, several times, before I even realized where I was, then kicked and stabbed my dead body a few times for good measure. Another Andalite, he would gloat. Me, he merely wishes to kill.›

‹You would have struck.›

‹I would have tried. My death would have been certain and immediate. Yours, thankfully, was at least postponed.› I touched my blade against his. ‹Aximili, if you are unlucky, some day you will have enemies who will wish you dead more than they wish you suffering. Then you will understand. Though I would rather you make enemies less annoying than Visser Three.›

His eyes had a quick smile. ‹You should not try to make me laugh. Princes don't do that with their arisths.›

‹I am your brother,› I countered, laughing. ‹It is my job, one far more important than being your Prince.›

Aximili tried being serious, but he gave a little laugh as well. ‹It was very humorous to see him after you escaped the Veleek.›

‹I'll bet.› Suddenly, I had a thought. ‹He does not know you are my brother, does he?›

‹No, I do not believe so. I didn't tell him, anyway.›

‹Never admit it, to him.› I hoped he wouldn't take it as an insult.

Aximili was completely surprised at such a request. ‹Why not?›

‹I will not let him target you to bring harm to me.› I could vividly imagine the torture Visser Three would subject Aximili to, just so I could imagine it, so he could taunt me with it. ‹Forgive me for saying it this way, but you will be safer. At least while I'm alive.› I waved my tail. ‹If I die, then you'll get his attention little more than any other Andalite warrior despite being my brother.›

‹The Yeerk coward would go after family.›

I smiled, relieved he wasn't offended. To deny him the right to claim himself my brother, my family … it was a great insult, for an Andalite. ‹Come, help me make this for the television and antenna. You can pretend to be Mother and tell me how sloppy my weaving is.›

Aximili automatically looked down. ‹It is rather bad.›

I hid my smile from him. ‹Now pretend to be Father and tell me it's perfect.›

He shook his stalks. ‹Elfangor, it is bad. Father only says that because he weaves even worse.›

‹Yes, he does. It is the only thing that allows me to keep my tail up, knowing there is someone worse than me.› I examined the weave blanket I had so far.

‹Not by much.›

[~.~.~]

The next morning, Cassie and Rachel made their way to us. Apparently, while Jake's parents weren't pleased with his late arrival, they at least believed Tobias and his cover story, and only gave him a light punishment. Something about a garage. Marco apparently reported he wasn't free until one o'clock.

Rachel seemed a bit leery of Aximili and myself, which in and of itself was interesting. And then the reason. ‹You had amnesia?›

"My memory's coming back. Cassie's helping."

"I thought maybe talking with you guys again might help a bit more," Cassie said. "And I'm glad you're okay, Ax."

‹As I am of you.›

"This is neat. You guys make it?" Cassie asked.

‹Yes. This is my half. And this, this is my brother's,› Aximili pointed out with a slight smirk. I didn't have the heart to tell him humans wouldn't quite notice the difference.

"Never figured you guys for arts and crafts," Rachel said as they examined it.

‹It is an old Andalite practice. They used to be made for scoops, before we developed plastics. These days, our young learn it to make little play scoops,› I explained. ‹Childish, but effective.›

"And I just used old cardboard boxes," Rachel said.

"Hay bales."

"Huh? What about hay bales?" Tobias asked, coming up.

"What we made when we played when we were kids," Cassie explained, "like for houses as stuff."

"Oh."

"What did you use?"

"Blankets, I think. Tucked them into things or taped them up, pretended I was camping or on adventures or stuff." His lips made a quick smile. "Usually very quiet ones."

"So, what are you going to do about this windbag thing?" Rachel asked.

‹Aximili has informed me it can be controlled with water. Otherwise, I have no direct plan. We can think of something when Jake and Marco arrive.›

They nodded and settled around the area, and I took pity on them, turning on the television.

"Does it get cable?" Rachel asked, after the initial shock passed for all of them.

I rolled my eyes. ‹I did buy the materials. But they are in the rubble that was the mall dressing room.›

"Wait, mall. I think I like the mall. I do like the mall. What happened to the mall?" Rachel demanded, looking at Cassie, Tobias, Aximili, and then me.

‹I'm going to go for a run,› I announced.

"Coward!" Tobias yelled.

[~.~.~]

I managed to spread my run so that when I returned, Rachel's temper at my hand in the sacred mall's destruction was settled on Death Glare. Of course, I had spent the time trying to think of a viable plan to stop this Veleek, but the best I had was to make it rain constantly, which simply wasn't possible. The other ideas are too embarrassing to admit I thought, and would only prove I might have watched a few too many human cartoons.

It was half to one when I got back, and I was pleasantly surprised to see Jake and Marco had arrived. ‹You're early.›

"I worked fast. Mostly just threw everything to the curb. Dad'll probably want to kill me."

‹Yeerks and your father. You do live dangerously.›

There was a smile at the joke, then they turned serious. "While you were gone, we thought of a plan," he said.

‹I do hope it's better than any I thought of.›

Cassie stepped in. "It couldn't lift Rachel when she was an elephant. She was too heavy."

"Like normal," Marco said.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!"

I frowned. ‹You didn't tell me this.›

"We didn't?"

‹No.› That could have been some helpful information during the plan-making. I wasn't sure what sort of ideas it would have thought of, but now I would never know. I rubbed my temple. ‹What did you think of?›

"I want to do it, though."

I frowned at Cassie. ‹No.›

"You don't even know what it is!"

‹Which is why I am not giving my permission, until I hear it. I'm not a Prince on his first duty. So,› I crossed my arms, ‹you can either tell me it and risk me denying you, or you don't tell me and I think of possibly a worse plan.›

She bit her lip but made the choice I knew she would. Because she was Cassie.

‹No.›

"But …"

‹Because it is a waste of time,› I continued. ‹I already have a whale morph. It is pointless for you to acquire one as well. It is also a waste of time to try to find a whale, as well as dangerous, because someone shall have to morph, and that will lead to the entire chase game again.›

She looked upset. I made a note to speak with her, when this was all over.

‹But, it is a good plan. Better than making it rain all the time.›

Marco snorted. "Maybe we could have moved to Seattle. They have good coffee."

[~.~.~]

I hoped I never had to do that again. I did not like plummeting to my possible-death. Sort of a phobia. I try to avoid it, if at all possible.

With the Veleek destroyed, morphing would become commonplace again. Tobias was taking Aximili out for some food, to repurchase the necessary things so we could get cable or satellite. Possibly buy a tape/DVD player.

I chose, instead, to turn into my goshawk and speak with Cassie.

She was working in the barn, looking pensive as she shoveled hay and muck into a wheel barrel. ‹Hello, Cassie.›

"Elfangor." Her tone was not quite right, rough and unpleasant.

‹I think we need to talk.› I fluttered down to rest on an empty cage. (It wouldn't be right to scare the patients too much.)

"About what?"

‹Why you wanted to take this risk.› I cocked my head, possibly looking like a cute pet. Not that I was trying. If it put her more at ease, that was just a bonus.

"It's not important."

‹Obviously it was.›

She was quiet, and I fiddled with my feathers.

"I let Marco get taken," she finally said.

‹Pardon?›

"I could have morphed. I could have drawn it to me. But I didn't, and I let it take him." She bounced the pitchfork. "I was a coward."

I bobbed a bit, though internally I was rolling my eyes. Another I-was-a-coward talk. ‹Do you know, I had a similar conversation with my brother. He thought he was a coward because he didn't attack Visser Three when he was a prisoner. Of course, he's right. I mean, to not do something when you may almost certainly die. That's the definition of coward.›

Cassie made a face at me. "No! No, you can't say that."

‹It is what you're saying, though, isn't it?›

For a moment, she might have noticed the parallel, but she quickly tossed it aside. "No! I let it take Marco! I could have done something, but I didn't! I am a coward."

‹Yes.›

"You're … you're agreeing with me?"

‹At least, if you were me. I'm an Andalite, a seasoned warrior. If I allowed another to be taken while I could have done something, I would be a coward. Or at least branded as one. Someone who shows ignoble fear in the face of danger.› I paused. ‹Ignoble fear, Cassie. Do you know what that means?›

"Not noble?"

‹Basically. Because, you see, self-preservation is no longer a noble reason not to fight. Not for me, anymore.›

Cassie frowned, looking at me.

‹I will die in this war, Cassie. I have to. Either I will die in it, or out-live it. Any other option, it'll be a disgrace.› I stretched my wings. ‹But that is just Andalite culture. I've been told we have pretty silly ideas about honor.›

"Oh. Ah, who?"

‹No one you know. Cassie, self-preservation is a very, very strong force.›

"That doesn't excuse me for –"

‹We all think, when the time comes, we'll lay our lives down for those we care about. That we'll be brave. That'll we'll do everything right and no one will get hurt.› I gave a self-deprecating chuckle. ‹Ellimists know I did. Grand dreams about how I would be if I could just fight, how great of a warrior I would be if I just had the chance. And do you know what I did after my very first battle, tail-to-tail? It was against Hork-Bajir. Oh, I didn't run. I attacked. I strike down three of them. Me, an aristh. An aristh.›

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

‹I didn't know what I was doing, not really. I just attacked. Very well. Hork-Bajir blood covered the deck. My friend looked terrified of me. My Prince …› I trailed off. ‹Anyway, I ran, when I realized what I had done. I ran back into our ship, fell, and let some h … someone comfort me like they would a child. Not for long, of course, I did have my pride.›

"So what are you trying to say?"

I laughed, a bit. ‹Imagination has one great failing – it has no bearing on reality. Even if you didn't live up to how you would imagine, Cassie, you're not a coward, no more than my brother is.›

"But I should have –"

‹Perhaps. Cassie, whatever you do, it won't change that the fact that you didn't. All you can do is try to do better.›

"How do I know if I can?" she whispered.

‹You never do. Not at first.› I looked at her. ‹The problem is, this is the first time you failed to meet your expectations. You have to face that before you can overcome it.›

"But I have!" she yelled. Quiet Cassie, yelling, tears in her eyes. "It's all I can think about. I let Marco –"

‹No, accept that you will choose your life over another's,› I said gently. ‹And there is no shame in that.› I paused. ‹Have you spoken with Marco?›

"Yeah. He says … he says he's forgiven me. But it's not enough."

‹It never is.›

Cassie wiped her eyes. "You know, if you came to cheer me up –"

‹I failed miserably. I tend to do that.› I fluttered up to another cage. ‹War is a constant trial by fire. Sometimes, you get burned. But you do learn the truth about yourself. Sometimes it isn't pretty. Sometimes it's, excuse me, damn ugly. Perhaps you should forgive me.›

"For what?"

‹Making you experience it.› I prepared to fly while she made some response, but then stopped. ‹Do you know what the worst sort of coward is, Cassie?›

Her voice was wary. "No?"

‹The one who won't admit he is one.› I fluttered up to the rafters.

"Elfangor? Thanks. I guess."

[~.~.~]

For over two weeks I had followed her, painfully keeping my distance. I had to, but the temptation was getting too strong. Today I was going to speak with her, no matter what. I had a plan. It wasn't brilliant, by any means. But it would work.

I walked down the street, disgusted. This is where my Loren had to live, because of me. It was my fault. Everything was. However, it didn't matter. I was going to try and make it right, now.

Somehow.

I entered the convenience store. I saw Loren already shopping, walking proudly with her guide. My heart swelled. Even with her disability, she was still strong, brave. Perfect.

Going back in my memories, back to actions that could have been second nature, I strolled the aisles, starting with the ones furthest away, pretending to look for a snack and trying not to stare at her.

I "shopped" for fifteen minutes, looking at items. Honestly, I truly wished to buy something. Human food is beyond comparison. I gathered a few items – candy bars, mostly.

Finally we were in the same aisle, and it was time to put my plan into motion. I stood in the center, examining, of all things, greeting cards, picking out ones to read at random and keeping half an eye on the pair coming closer. Then, when they were directly behind me, I took a step back and collided with them.

My brilliant plan.

Of course, my brilliant plan had neglected to put into account the dog. I was supposed to merely bump and apologize. Well, I did bump, but the dog jerked enough so that my knees buckled and I really did collide with them, falling over the yelping dog and to the ground with a yell, very painfully. Loren had tripped into the shelves, dropping her basket. Milk spilt.

"I'm so sorry!" I gasped, horrified. "I wasn't … I'm sorry."

Loren smiled and felt for her dog. "It's all right. Are you hurt?"

My cheeks burned as I said, "Yes, just my pride. Here, let me get your stuff." I quickly got all of her items and stood awkwardly right in front of her. "I really am sorry."

She laughed. "I've survived worse."

I nodded. Yes, she had. When she held out her hand, I gave her the basket and said, "You'll probably want to get a new carton of milk, since most of it's on the floor. It's past due, anyway."

"Well, this may be a blessing in disguise, then," she said.

"Maybe. Ummm … you look familiar." Phase two of my plan. It didn't seem very brilliant anymore.

"Maybe you've seen me before. With Champ, I'm pretty hard to not notice." She patted the dog's head.

"No. I just moved back to the area. I lived here about eighteen years ago. My name's Alan. Al Fangor." I hoped for a glimmer, but there was nothing.

"Sorry. Doesn't ring any bells. Believe me. I wish it did. My name's Loren."

"I knew a Loren once. She played softball. Tried to teach me once. I was pretty hopeless." I smiled at the memory. Hopeless hadn't been the only word Loren had used. "Eventually, though, I did manage to hit the ball with the bat, instead of miscellaneous body parts."

"What happened to her?" There was definitely interest. Maybe even hope.

"We lost touch, my fault, not hers. I had to leave. I know she married, though he died, had a son." Though I was being careful to make my tone careless, make it seem like I was more interested in messing with the shelves for a purchase, I watched her face, watched the subtle change.

"What was her son's name?"

I pretended to try to remember. "I think … it began with a T. Give me a moment. Tom … Tony … Travis … Trevor …"

"Tobias?" Her voice quavered.

"Yes, that was it," I said. "Nice name."

"Yes," she said quietly. The dog whined, sensing her mood, and Loren scratched his ears absently. "Did you know her well?"

"Absolutely." I gave a small laugh, deciding to come clean. I could never lie very long to Loren. "Honestly, I sort of … orchestrated this meeting. I thought you looked like her, and well, if I just came up and you were her, let's just say my Loren would have given me grief for not keeping in touch but eventually gotten over it. But if you weren't, since you aren't, approaching total strangers like old friends is a bit awkward. Like this has gotten. So, again, I'm sorry," I finished humbly.

"You planned bumping into me?" She sounded amused.

"Well, yes, but my brilliant plan didn't include me causing as much mayhem as I did."

She laughed at my defensive tone. If anyone saw me, they probably would have laughed themselves silly at the look on my face. I didn't care. I used to dream about Loren, her laugh and smile. "Alan, Al Fangor," – I melted when she said my name, even though I could clearly hear the human name, not the Andalite – "I believe I may have been mistaken. Maybe I did know you."

"Really?" Even I winced at my over-eager tone.

She laughed again and we started walking. "So you live around here?"

"Not exceptionally. I'm looking into houses, currently," I lied.

"You moved back and you don't have a house?"

"My job transferred me unexpectedly," I said quickly, not exactly lying. "I'm staying at a hotel."

"What do you do?"

"Computers. And you?" I wanted to move away from me. If there was going to be conversations about me, I needed to make sure all the pieces would fit.

"I volunteer at the church a few blocks away, for the crisis center."

I was impressed. "Really? That's very nice of you, and you're very good."

"How do you know? Have you called there?"

"What? No, no!" Of course, if I had thought about it, maybe I would have. But that would have been wrong, tying up the phones for selfish reasons when there were humans who were trying to call and get help. But I still would have.

"Easy, Alan. I'm just teasing. I would have recognized your voice." She smiled and I saw her put a box of cereal in her basket. "But how do you know I'm good?"

I smiled and took the milk from her basket. "When I first moved here before, I had a difficult time adjusting. I wasn't exactly a local. My Loren helped me quite a lot, though I will admit, I drove her completely up the wall. I'll go get you a new jug of milk; I'll be right back."

I retrieved a fresh container, searching for the date furthest in the future. Then I slipped it into her basket. "Thank you," she said, feeling the additional weight. "Do you suppose we knew each other before? You see, I was in an accident and …" She faltered.

"Well," I said slowly. "If at worst, you aren't, what have we lost? I am no worse off. In fact, perhaps I am better having met you. I have not allowed myself to think of those years in a very long time. Of course, perhaps meeting me isn't exactly a good thing for you. And if you are my Loren, hopefully we could renew our friendship. In my case, it is a win-win."

She smiled. "I'd have to say, for me, too."

My grin would have split my face in two. "Wonderful."

Loren nudged my arm. "Your brilliant plan worked, then, huh?"

"Was there any doubt?"

[~.~.~]