"You do realize that if we're down here at the beach because of that news story, some Controllers are probably down here, too?" Marco asked for about the tenth time.
"Yes, Marco," Jake said patiently. "But maybe Cassie and Tobias can get some feeling from being down here, closer to the sea."
"So let me get this straight - we are now making decisions based on Tobias and Cassie's dreams, right?" Marco said. "And yet my dreams are totally ignored. The fact that I once dreamed about staying home and watching TV in total safety, that means nothing, right?"
"Right," Jake said flatly.
We were at the beach. The same beach where the guy on the news had found what we now believed was a piece of an Andalite ship. It was night, with a sliver of moon that painted ripples of silver across the black water. A salt breeze blew off the water, making me feel peaceful and yet a little overwhelmed, intimidated, the way the ocean always makes me feel.
There is nothing as big as the ocean. It's like this entirely different planet, full of strange plants and fantastic animals. Valleys and mountains and caves and broad, flat plains, all hidden from our sight.
All I could see was the surface. All I could feel was the barest edge of the ocean, rushing over my toes as each wave crashed ashore.
But I could sense it out there. I could sense how vast it was, and how tiny I was. "How about my dream of living long enough to get a driver's license?"
Jake gave Marco an exasperated look. "Marco, you can turn into a bird and fly. You could do it right now. Why would you care about driving a car a few years from now?"
"The babes," Marco said instantly. "Duh. You can't pick up girls when you're a bird." He glanced overhead, where we could see just the hint of dark wings against the canopy of stars. "No offense, Tobias. The wings are great, but I'm thinking of something bright red with about four hundred horsepower."
Marco's cooperative mood hadn't lasted long. I knew it wouldn't. Marco is never happy unless he's complaining about something; Just like Rachel is never happy unless she has something to fight against. And Tobias is never happy, period. He thinks if he's ever happy, someone will just come along and take his happiness away.
"So, Cassie?" Rachel said. "Do you feel any thing?"
"Well, I feel a little embarrassed," I admitted. "And a little foolish."
"Maybe we could try calling the Psychic Friends," Marco suggested. "Hi, is this Psychic Friends? I've been dreaming about aliens lately - "
"Why Cassie and Tobias?" Rachel wondered aloud, ignoring Marco. "Why would they get these images so clearly and the rest of us barely felt anything?"
Jake shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, okay, say you're an Andalite. And you want to call for help. Who do you want to come and rescue you? Other Andalites, obviously."
"Tobias isn't an Andalite, and neither am I," I pointed out.
"I know," Jake said. "But maybe this communication, whatever it is, is tied into the ability to morph. You know, like morphing ability makes you able to 'hear' it. That way, only Andalites would be able to receive the call for help."
"Which still doesn't explain why Tobias and I _"
"Maybe it does," Marco interrupted, serious again. "Look, Tobias is permanently in morph. And Cassie, you're the one who has the most talent for morphing." Then he flashed white teeth in the dark. "Besides, you know you like animals more than humans, so it's like you're halfway into morph, anyway."
Suddenly a dark shape swooped low over our heads. /Lights!/ Tobias said. /Up ahead on the beach. There's a bunch of people moving in a line with flashlights, like they're searching for something. You can't see them yet because they're hidden by that dune. But they'll be here in a couple of minutes./
"Who are they?" Jake demanded.
/l can't tell,/ Tobias said. /My eyes may be great during the day, but at night I don't see any better than you do. I'm a hawk, not an owl. Fortunately, I still hear pretty well. You guys hide in the dunes. I'll be right back./
With that he was gone. "Come on," Jake said. "He's right. Let's hide in the dunes."
We crouched down in a pocket between two dunes. I lay flat on my belly in the cold sand and peered through the tall sea grass, focusing on the bright line of the surf.
Tobias was back a few minutes later.
/It's them,/ he said. He came to rest on a piece of driftwood. /It's a group from The Sharing. Chapman is with them./ He turned his head to look at Jake. /Tom is with them, too./
The Sharing is a front organization for the Yeerks. Supposedly it's this group for all ages, like Girl Scouts or whatever. In reality it's a way for the Controllers to try and recruit new voluntary hosts. As impossible as it may seem, some humans actually decide to become hosts for the Yeerks. The Yeerks like it that way. It's easier for them to have a voluntary host instead of a host that resists their control.
The Sharing is very subtle, of course. People are brought along very slowly, over time. New members have no idea what it's all about at first. They think it's just fun and games.
I don't know when they tell the members what's really happening. By then I guess it's too late. They either become hosts voluntarily, or, like Jake's brother Tom, they are taken, anyway.
"Tom is with them?" Jake asked.
/I'm pretty sure,/ Tobias said. /Some of the senior members - Chapman and Tom - are following behind the others. I could hear some of what they were saying. They're very worried about that fragment of Andalite ship./
"So it is Andalite?" Rachel asked, excited.
/l guess so,/ Tobias said. /l heard something else, too./ The way he hesitated made me tense up. "What?"
/Something about Visser Three having visions. That's what they said. Visions. I guess the visions made the Visser cranky. He was on the mother ship at the time and decided to shove a Hork-Bajir out of an airlock because he broke the Visser's concentration./
"It's because of Visser Three's Andalite body," Marco said.
"That's the connection. These dreams or visions or whatever they are must be some kind of communication that's only supposed to be heard by Andalites."
Suddenly I saw the line of flashlights swing into view. There must have been twenty people strung across the beach, all looking down at the sand, moving forward slowly.
"They're searching for any other fragments," I whispered.
A part of the line stopped moving. I heard someone yelling. Others came running up, excited.
"What did they find?" Jake wondered.
"I don't. . ." Then, in a flash, it came to me. "Our footprints! Four sets of fresh footprints that suddenly turn off into the dunes!"
"Let's get out of here," Jake hissed. "Now!" Too late!
The flashlight beams raced across the rippling sand and up the side of the dune. In an instant a dozen flashlight beams focused on the notch where we crouched.
We slithered back, down and out of sight. Then we jumped up and ran. "We should morph!" Rachel gasped as we stumbled over the sinking sand.
"No!" Marco said. "Tracks. We would leave tracks that went from human to animal."
"Get them!" someone yelled. Chapman, I think. He's our assistant principal at school. I knew his voice from hearing him yell in the hallways.
Jerky, wild beams of light danced all around us. We ducked and ran as fast as we could. But running across the sand was like running through quicksand.
Jake was gasping out whispered instructions. "Double around ... if they follow us deeper into ... the dunes ... we can double around . . . get to the water. . . then morph ..."
"There! There! I see them!"
A beam of light swept over me. I could see my shadow, long and twisted, projected on the sand. I dodged left, out of the light. Just in time.
BAM! BAM! Gunfire! Someone was shooting at me.
