II.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - Unit 87

"So did Kono say yes?" Tobias asked as we both climbed out of my car. I had to park in the street, since his apartment didn't have a lot and the closest spot I could find was a block away.

"Yeah!"

"No way."

"That's what I said!"

He shook his head. "I thought this girl was smart. Cassie's always talking about how smart she is."

I shrugged. "We'll see how the movie premiere goes, I guess. Marco better bring his A-game."

"You know, we joke, but I kind of do want Marco to have that stability in his life," Tobias said thoughtfully. "He needs someone to knock him down a few pegs every once in a while."

"Hey, I do that."

"Nicely," he clarified. "Come on, we all need someone normal in our lives. How's Ben?"

That surprised me. Not so much the question, but the casualness of it. The two of us were openly strolling down the street on a bright, sunny day. It was unusually cold for southern California, especially this early in the morning, so despite the sun there weren't many people out to ogle and mob us. We were never quite that couple that skipped along sidewalks hand-in-hand, but we walked close, our arms constantly brushing against each other and our shoulders bumping fondly as we walked. Just a few weeks ago if someone had told me this would be my life, I would have laughed in their face.

"Fine. He'll be leaving for Thanksgiving early to visit his brother and sister-in-law in San Diego. The same weekend we're doing Cassie's birthday, actually."

"I thought his family was in Pismo?"

Another surprise, that Tobias remembered since way back during the ice cream truck debacle. "Just his parents and little sister. His brother can't travel up because of his job, so Ben's gonna go celebrate with them."

"Oh, cool. What about you?"

"Um, I'm probably just going home. Make dinner for my mom and sisters…" I trailed off, realizing the right thing to do would ask him his holiday plans in return, but I knew his answer. And there was still that part of me that was hesitant to invite him over. Was I ready for that? Was Tobias ready to see my family again? What would they think? What would we tell them? I took a deep breath. Taking it slow with someone you were in love with was hard.

"...Tobias, how about - ?"

"Here we are!" he announced hastily.

He had lead me to a brick building, six stories high, and completely lacking in distinguishing features. It was in the middle of a complex full of apartments so identical that if I were to ever come back, I would never be able to pick his from all the others. Of course, that was probably purposely done, given it was a base of a secret organization for alien affairs. He steered me around to the back of the building, where we went down some concrete steps and came to a painted green door.

I guess he wasn't so sure about my inviting him for Thanksgiving either.

"A basement apartment?" I wrinkled my nose. It reminded me a loading dock in. "You? In a basement?"

The thought of him underground was as hard to believe as, well, the thought of me underground. I was famously claustrophobic, Tobias and I had that in common. It was part of the reason why we both took to the sky so easily.

"It's a nice basement!" Tobias insisted as he stuck his key in the door. When he turned it, I heard the whirring sound of way too much machinery in the lock mechanism. Something clicked, something popped, and finally there was the whooshing of air as a some kind of vacuum seal was released. I stared at him. "Plus, uh, the basement apartment has it's own convenient rear entrance."

It had been three days since Doubleday organized this meeting, and I still wasn't sure if I was mentally prepared to see Tobias and Heather's apartment. But it wasn't like there was a choice, this was the closest Unit 87 base, so I had to suck it up. Tobias was desperately trying to play it cool and casual, but I could tell he was anxious as well, despite our nightly chats via his new phone. We had carefully avoided this subject, for the sake of pleasant conversation, though it was occurring to me now that maybe we should have talked this out a little.

"No fingerprint scanners?" I asked sardonically as he pushed the door open. It looked like a regular wooden door, but felt so heavy it could have been made of lead. "Or retina scanners? Or any scanners? Have you super spies never seen a James Bond movie?"

Tobias chuckled. "Have you?"

"Well, no, but they have fancy scanners and stuff, right?"

"You're cute." When he noticed me glowering at him, he held his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. It's Andalite technology, similar to the one that was hooked up at everyone's homes after the shooting. Although while the one at your house will just sound an alarm when an unregistered person in morph steps into your property, ours analyzes any living being within a one mile radius. It can sense knives, guns, alien technology, biological or chemical weapons, and of course anyone that possesses the power to morph - morphed or not. If something sets off the alarm, HQ picks up the potential breach and sends a team to investigate."

"Oh. Sooo...no fingerprint scanners required."

"Nope."

"Fancy."

Tobias shut the door behind us and I finally faced what I had been afraid of for three days.

The space was basically a showroom floor. It was like an interior decorator had vomited springtime pastels and color-coordinated furniture across the apartment, just in time for someone to take a picture and put it in Better Homes and Gardens. The living room was pristine, with barely any sign that a person had ever even sat on the expensive white leather couch. Even the LA Times, dated from nearly a month ago, looked like it had just been placed on the stained glass coffee table as a prop. The kitchen looked equally unused, not a crumb on any of the blue marble surfaces, no crust on the turquoise enamel pots and pans, and a gleaming copper sink catching what little sunlight it could underneath the tiny basement window. The bathroom looked like it had just been built, with its intricate mosaic tilework and a throne-like crapper that the Queen would have been afraid to pee in. The whole place looked like it could have been the staging area before we entered the real apartment.

"Now I know you barely lived here," I whistled, pulling open a kitchen drawer and nearly being blinded by the pure silver art deco flatware. They even had silk napkins folded up in there. "There is no way you have taste this good."

He snickered. "This is really all Heather's doing. She's got the Queer Eye thing going on."

I shut the drawer abruptly.

"I'm glad she was around to keep you in check. If you had your way, there would be dinosaur toys and model airplanes everywhere."

"That sounds amazing."

There was one door I noticed Tobias didn't show me, just off the living room. It didn't take a genius to know that was the bedroom, and that was why he hadn't been in any rush to lead me in there.

"We'll find her."

I didn't know what to say other than that. A part of me wanted to talk about her more, but I wasn't sure how much he would be able to take. And any sympathy I tried to offer just sounded flat to my ears, no matter how much I meant it. In more ways than one I owed Heather a lot, and I could sing her praises until I was blue in the face, but there was still that small, awful part of me that resented her for this.

Fortunately, Tobias didn't seem like he wanted to dwell on it either. He motioned back to the living room and I followed him. There were so few windows he had to turn on the lights, even in the middle of a sunny day. The windows the apartment did have were teeny, barely clearing the ground the apartment was built under.

"So...do people not realize they live in a building with an Animorph?" I wondered out loud as I plopped down on the expensive couch. It was like sinking into a leather cloud.

"No. They never see me come and go," he said, joining me on the couch. "At least, not usually in human form. And even if they do, it's only a glance before I'm inside or gone. I'm pretty generic-looking."

"You look generic? You're talking to the cookie-cutter Hollywood blonde over here," I said flippantly, reaching out and rumpling his hair. He had cut it recently, but it was just long enough to play with. It looked darker, short like this.

He let me mess up his hair. "Nothing about you is cookie-cutter."

I curled my legs under me and rested my elbow over the back of the couch so that I was facing him. The compulsion to kiss him was strong, but I just managed to settle for making a silly face until he laughed at me. I couldn't kiss him here, in this place.

"Okay, this isn't actually too bad, for a basement apartment," I conceded.

"Yeah, yeah. I know you're more a fan of my meadow." Tobias grinned. "I don't like being down here all that much either, but it was out of necessity. Even Heather was out and about most of the time."

"No rest for the Men in Black, huh?"

"Oh, we can rest. But I was always with the Hork-Bajir and she had that reporter job - "

I stared at him. "She was a reporter?!"

He looked at me strangely. "You definitely knew she was a reporter."

"I thought that was just, like, a cover or secret identity or something!"

Tobias shook his head and pointed at the paper on the coffee table. "She was a part-time writer for the Times. She really loved that job, refused to give it up even if it meant losing sleep. Heather was stubborn as hell."

She was Super Woman. Would the wonders never cease.

"Listen, if you're not comfortable talking about her..." he said, shifting on the couch so that he was closer to me. I let him put an arm around my shoulders, and when he saw I was okay with it, he gave me a little squeeze.

"Mostly. Maybe," I said, allowing myself to rest against him. "I mean, I feel like, in any other circumstance, in another life maybe…"

"She could have been your friend."

"Or she could have been that reporter whose kneecaps I wrecked."

Tobias smirked. "That's more likely, yeah."

Suddenly we heard a noise at the door and we immediately scooted a bit further from each other. I hadn't realized we'd gotten so close, I was practically in his lap. There were a few murmurs and whispers before it opened, and then in came General Sam Doubleday.

He was an older man, in his sixties, with grey hair and a thick Colonel Mustard mustache. It was strange to see him after so long. I had heard in the news that he'd been in a car accident shortly after the war trials had ended. The general was reliant on a cane now, and despite this, still looked just as big and strong as he did three years ago. Doubleday wasn't just an old guy stooped over a cane. He was more like an iron bull holding an extra weapon. A small, smiling young woman with a short brown pixie cut was at his side. She waved at me excitedly. Behind them, a huge Shaquille O'Neal lookalike followed with his huge arms crossed over his massive chest. Despite his size, he had a babyface that had me guessing he was twenty-five or so, and the woman was probably only in her early twenties as well. Marissa and Andre.

"Rachel!" Marissa greeted. "It's so great to meet you! Officially, I mean. In, like, a non-stalkery way. Wow, you really are so pretty, even when you're like, not on TV or whatever!"

"Uh. Thanks?"

"Hey," Andre said. Marissa plopped herself down on the couch by me, patting the remaining cushion next to her. The hulk of a man sat, nearly sending the rest of us on the couch airborne. Doubleday took a seat in the armchair across from us and smiled.

"It's nice to see you face-to-face again, Rachel. You look well."

"Tobias, aren't you going to offer us drinks or anything?" Marissa prompted. He sighed wearily, but got up at her insistence. I got the feeling she did this kind of thing a lot.

"I have tap water and milk that must have spoiled at least a week ago."

"I think that'll be waters all around, then," Doubleday said. Tobias went into the kitchen and started filling up a pitcher with water from the sink. I rolled my eyes, at the same time that Marissa did. I decided she was all right.

"Er, it's nice to see you again, too. Sir." I had this weird compulsion to get up and shake his hand, so I did. Tobias started snickering in the kitchen and I gave him a dirty look. "What? He's supposed to be my boss. That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?"

"Sure, but since when do you do stuff like that?"

"Shut up and don't forget the ice."

"You needn't be so formal with me, although it is refreshing to be shown some form of respect," Doubleday said, casting withering glances at his agents. "You'd never guess they were trained military just by looking at some of these people."

"Why is that?" I wondered aloud. I had noticed that Tobias hadn't stood for a salute to the general, and the others weren't exactly standing in line with their backs straight and stony eyes forward. They had waltzed on in like they were buddies. "I mean, why do you keep things so casual?"

"That's a thing we learned from you guys," Marissa chimed in, pointing at Tobias and I. "The Animorphs lasted as long as they did because you weren't so strictly military. You were small, but flexible. You adapted to situations, you did so much with so little, you were a secret, and probably most importantly, you were friends."

I had never really thought of it that way. The few times we actually did go full military-style were when things really went south. Namely, those last weeks when all-out war was declared. Until then we were little more than a persistent thorn in the yeerks side, but we mattered. Versus an entire alien empire with an impressive track record for conquering planets, we had mattered. Not a success in the big picture, maybe, but in our world, on our planet, it was all the difference. We weren't perfect, but we had done many things right.

"Unit 87 is small for a reason," General Doubleday said. "Just over forty active field agents and another sixty or so staff running things from the headquarters, split between the east and west coasts. Everyone has at least met everyone else, and trust is extraordinarily important with us."

I stared at him. "Like, a hundred people? That's it?"

"We skim the top scorers from each of your cousin's graduating classes in Hawaii and run them through our trial process, part of which determines their ability to work with our team. If they pass, they are extended an invitation. The bulk of Jake's students are sent to the regular morphing units among the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, and so forth. Marissa was the top of her class this year. Andre, the year before."

Marissa beamed. Andre rolled his eyes and looked like a giant bored teenager.

"I kind of noticed this before, but…" I shifted my gaze from Doubleday to his two agents. "You are both awfully young. Everyone seems to be. Are all field agents in Unit 87 like, twenty-five or less?"

"I'm twenty-six," Andre said gruffly.

Marissa looked at Tobias with surprise. "She doesn't know?"

He set a pitcher of ice water on the coffee table, along with five glasses. Marissa took a glass and scratched it skeptically.

"I, uh, I mean, it's not like we even know yet," Tobias said awkwardly.

"Tobias…" she started, deeming the glass clean enough and pouring herself some water.

"What good would that have done? It's not like it's scientifically proven yet, anyway! It's only a theory."

Thankfully, Doubleday saw me getting impatient and cut in.

"The morphing academy has always looked for younger recruits, preferably less than thirty years old, and almost none older than forty," Doubleday began. "Simply because younger bodies are more likely to tolerate and adapt to the morphing technology. It was never tailor-made for human physiology, after all. It requires a pliability in anatomy that is best represented in the younger population."

"Okay…?" That was logical enough. I remembered Jake saying the exact same thing to me a couple years ago, when we all were asking about his new gig as morphing instructor. But that didn't mean they all needed to be so young. Surely an agency this important needed people with actual military experience.

"The Andalite morphing technology has of course been attempted on older people willing to try," Doubleday continued. "Seventy percent of people over the age of forty were unable to receive the morphing technology. Ten percent gained the ability to morph temporarily, but it faded over the next few months. The remaining twenty percent can morph as expected, but they are aging just like the rest of us. It is...uncertain how their bodies will tolerate the morphing technology as time goes on."

"Like, do they think something bad is going to happen?" I wondered.

Tobias, Marissa, and Andre all shared a look that pretty much answered that question.

"The rejection of morphing technology is not always the simple inability to morph, though," Doubleday explained. He helped himself to a glass of water, taking his time and making me feel antsy. "There was one case of a 45-year-old morpher being unable to control his morphs and he just randomly became every animal he had ever acquired in succession, straight from one to the other against his will, until finally it stopped and he could no longer change. That caused a bit of a mess."

"Oh, heh. That's strange," I said nervously. Tobias was smirking at me.

"And then there was the case of a 40-year-old woman that began having such a difficult time demorphing that eventually she grew afraid of becoming a nothlit. She quit."

That sent a little bit of a chill up my spine. If there was a possibility that the morphing power had some kind of expiration date that would run out while I happened to be a cockroach, well, shit.

"And then there are a select few that suffer physical disability as the morphing technology is rejected. Not many, but it is worth noting."

"Physical disability...?"

"Remember, out of the 201 registered human morphers on Earth, these 5 or 6 cases are far from the norm."

"Okay...?" My eyes wandered to his cane.

"I wasn't in a car accident." Doubleday confirmed holding it up. "I received the ability to morph shortly after the war trials ended."

It was hard to believe, but I slowly realized what he was getting at. The news reports of his car accident, the sporadic months of medical leave he had to take...

"I was sixty years old, but I wanted to try. Actually, I was able to morph exactly once - an eagle, just like yours." He sighed. "It was glorious, but I was never able to morph again after that. Then, over the past few years, I started to notice a new onset of weakness in my legs. The weakness has progressed until, as you can see, I became reliant on a cane. Our scientists predict that the degeneration will continue for as long as I live."

"The morphing technology did that to you!?" I gasped.

Tobias cleared his throat, hearing the alarm in my voice. "It's too early to say, but there have been other cases. One agent of Unit 87 was forty-two when he got the power to morph two years ago. Now he can't morph at all and can barely move without a walker. Another morpher, this one in the Army, had the power for three years without issues but now she's starting to get weak as well. She just turned forty-one this year."

"Oh...man…"

"Of course, it depends on the person. Mac, one of our East-coasters, is forty-five and showing no signs of slowing down," he added hopefully. "But the jury's still out on what the next couple years will bring."

"As Tobias said, it is too early and there is not enough evidence, but there is a good chance that all humans already gifted the morphing technology may suffer complications as they age," Doubleday said. "The military has always included the waiver before people signed up for the morphing power, warning about the unknown side effects Andalite technology could cause. The morphing units trained in Hawaii are particularly brave."

I frowned and looked over at Marissa and Andre. "So you guys knew before you signed up?"

"They likened it to becoming test subjects for an experimental drug," Marissa nodded. "Most people turn away at that, it's why not everyone's jumping at the chance to morph. Once you read all the paperwork, the long line of soldiers around you gets a lot smaller and you start to wonder if you're being crazy. But, well, yeah. We all knew that this was uncharted territory."

"Yeah," Andre agreed.

I looked at Tobias. "And us?"

"We were the youngest to ever morph." He shrugged. "It's still up in the air whether that's a good or bad thing. Even by Andalite standards we were too young. Their arisths have to be at least fourteen and post-pubescent before getting the power to morph, because of unpredictable health concerns."

"Greaaaaat."

"Hey Tobias, do you have any snacks?" Marissa asked suddenly. Tobias glared at her, but she just smiled up at him innocently until he got up to rummage around the cupboards.

Doubleday sat up and pulled a few things out of the briefcase he had been holding. There was a softcover book and a few loose papers stuffed in a folder. "Yes, well, putting us back on track, I have here the morphing risk waiver."

He removed one sheet and wrote an "x" on the line at the very bottom. "If you're still interested…"

"It's not like not signing it will make any difference," I said dryly. I was already "infected" with the power to morph, anyway. Tobias was watching me worriedly from the kitchen, but there was nothing we could do. If the morphing technology was going to disable us some day, that was even more incentive to sign up and do some good. Well, more good than we'd done already.

"Pretzels or popcorn?" Tobias called.

"Popcorn!"

He grumbled as he tore off the plastic and stuck the bag in the microwave.

"Then you've got to sign the confidentiality agreement." Doubleday tugged another sheet out and I signed it after pretending to skim its contents. Secrecy was not exactly something we as Animorphs were unfamiliar with.

"Lastly, there is the course you must take," he said, slightly quieter. It was almost hard to hear him over the faint hum of the microwave and the popping of the popcorn.

"The course?" I yelped.

They all winced at me. I heard the microwave stop. It was then that I realized Marissa had been trying to keep Tobias away from us. She'd been distracting him, or at least trying to all along, and I'd messed it up.

Doubleday looked at Tobias apologetically. "Yes, every recruit is required to pass an intensive two-week course of study and group exercises before officially becoming a part of Unit 87."

Tobias stomped over, throwing the bag of half-popped kernels at Marissa.

"But these aren't popped."

"Chew harder," he snapped.

I decided to ignore them. "But I know how to morph, why do I need a course? I could morph the crap out of everyone in this room!"

"Humble about it, too," Andre said.

"This isn't the same as what they teach in Jake's classes, or what you already know in your extensive experience," Doubleday said, avoiding Tobias's glare. "This is Unit 87-specific. As honored as we are to have you join our ranks, I'm afraid I have to insist."

"Ugh. Great, like I don't have enough homework to begin with."

They all exchanged looks. Tobias shook his head firmly, but the others all seemed to disagree with whatever silent concern they were sharing.

"I've told them I was concerned about college interfering with your Unit 87 duties," Tobias said finally.

"Of course you did." I scowled.

"The course is pretty intensive and you actually need to travel to New York, as in disappear for a whole two weeks. The job itself is really time-consuming. It's a commitment."

"We are not having this discussion again, Tobias."

"I'm not saying don't join. My suggestion was for you to hold off. Finish college. Then, after you graduate, see if you still want to do this. Unit 87 won't be going anywhere. We'll still be here when you're done."

I couldn't believe it. Even after all this time, Tobias was still against my signing up. He made just enough of a show to make it seem like he was on board, like he was finally supporting my decision, but then he pulls this. One last stand. He was absolutely un-fricken-believable.

Doubleday, Marissa, and Andre were suspiciously quiet throughout all this, watching us closely.

"College will always be there, too, you know," I said sharply. "Technically, it makes more sense to do this now and go to school later, if this morphing expiration thing is real."

"Rachel - "

I held up a hand to silence him. "No. Listen, Heather was a reporter and she was with you guys. If she can pull that off, I can go to college and do this."

Marissa giggled, breaking Unit 87's silence. "It'll be like a movie!"

"A bad one," Andre growled. I was starting to dislike him more and more each monosyllabic sentence he spoke.

Tobias sighed. "Rachel, you may be underestimating - "

"I don't think I'm the one underestimating people here," I said acidly.

"I'm not underestimating you."

If he was going to say more, I didn't let him. We could discuss his brain malfunction later, when my future boss and coworkers weren't watching. Maybe that was Tobias's intention all along. Make me look bad at what was essentially my job interview.

I was ending this now.

"It's a pain in the ass, but I like it at Blythe. I'm doing both." I wasn't just another recruit. I was Rachel Berenson, and I gave Doubleday, Marissa, and Andre a stern look of their own.

Whatever they thought of me, they could never, ever think I was weak.

Doubleday cleared his throat. "The morphing academy is graduating a new class of morphers in December. Since we are low on resources, it would be more cost-effective to train you together with another recruit instead of everyone separately. Assuming we are able to find a suitable candidate among their ranks, December 12th through the 23rd would be the most ideal time for you to take the course."

"What!?" Tobias demanded. "That's not what it was before! It was a week earlier!"

My finals ended on December 10th, and then I was on my winter break from school until January 17th. The timing was perfect, just after my semester ended and I'd get back just before the holidays. I could spend Christmas with my family and no one would be any wiser. However, it was becoming blatantly obvious that the whole thing was very intentionally planned that way. I got the feeling I didn't need to inform anyone here about my school calendar.

"We rescheduled."

"You did it on purpose!" Tobias accused.

"And so what if I did?" Doubleday challenged calmly. "Tobias, I am the Commander of this unit. The schedule will change at my discretion. Rachel, I imagine the timing is convenient enough for you?"

A slow smile crept on my face. "You know it is."

So that was what all this weirdness was about. They had all been conspiring against Tobias, planning ahead of time for any resistance he might throw out there. His team had been working against him. I could tell he was pissed, and probably felt a little betrayed, but that was his own fault. Tobias had no right to try and influence my life, no matter how much he cared.

He fumed in silence. Marissa was clearly embarrassed, but Andre appeared triumphant. To be honest, I was more in line with Andre, for once. And maybe a little embarrassed, but more with my boyfriend's behavior than mine.

"I want to be frank," Doubleday said, pointing between Tobias and I. "Is this going to be a problem?"

"No," I said firmly. Tobias just huffed.

"Good. So, in the next three weeks your single duty to us will be to keep our secret," he said. "You are not on active duty, Rachel. You are still officially a civilian until your formal initiation in December, is that clear?"

"Oh come on, seriously?"

"You'll have the opportunity to do plenty, after a proper orientation."

Tobias put a hand on my shoulder, and I shook it off angrily. I'd gotten what I wanted, but in a small way, so had he. I was still going to be a part of Unit 87, but I had to wait practically a month. Plenty of time for him to try and convince me not to do it. He was smart enough to know that I would follow through on whatever I set my mind to, but I was smart enough to know that so would he.

"So, Rachel Berenson. Shall we meet in New York, December 12th?" Doubleday stood, leaning heavily on his cane for balance. He held out one large, wrinkled hand.

I got up and shook it. "See you then."

"Can we show her the base?" Marissa asked excitedly, jumping up from the couch to shake my hand so hard I thought she would rip it off. "I know she hasn't taken the course, but she's definitely not a normal recruit. We can show her the base a little early, right?"

"I don't know about that…" Andre, of course.

Doubleday thought for a moment. "I don't see why we couldn't show her around this one, at any rate. We'll save going to the actual HQ for her initiation. In the meantime, she can see the Grid."

"Yeah, lighten up there, 'Dre," I smirked and patted him on his gorilla shoulder. He seethed under my touch. "Let's go see the Grid!"

Tobias steered me away from him, shaking his head and whispering, "Already causing trouble. He could pound you three feet into the pavement."

"He's a jackass," I hissed back. Louder, I asked the group. "What is the Grid, anyway?"

Doubleday held out an arm and waved it at the closed door off the living room. The one we had been avoiding up until now. "Tobias?"

He sighed and looked at me apologetically. "It's in the bedroom."

I straightened my shoulders. "Well? Lead the way."

He grudgingly turned the knob and pushed open the door. We were all greeted by the strong scent of potpourri, shut in for way too long. It had to have been weeks since the door had been opened, and since there were no windows, the perfume had nowhere else to go.

"Jesus. It's like getting slapped in the face by springtime," I gagged.

"Tobias likes the smell of the outdoors," Andre explained, breathing through the front of his shirt. "Heather got that potpourri for him."

Marissa gave Andre a good smack in the arm. So, Andre knew how to push my buttons. This was going to be fantastic.

I focused on the room itself. The queen-size bed was made up like it would have been in a hotel room, complete with symmetrically placed throw pillows and fluffy blue quilt. Despite the formality, it looked comfortable and even a little homey. At least, more so than the rest of the apartment. An alarm clock was on the right sided nightstand. I could guess that's where Tobias slept. He needed the clock, to know when to demorph. On the left side, a stack of notebooks, papers, and a tape recorder. Heather's side.

I looked away, feeling my stomach start to churn. There was a walk-in closet in one wall left partially open, just enough to see that there was a good amount of clothes in there - men's and women's. They had shared a closet.

Tobias quickly closed it.

"The Grid is there," he said quickly, pointing at the vanity against the opposite wall. There was a dresser with big drawers and on the wall above it, a large mirror with built-in light fixtures.

Marissa and Andre took a seat on the bed as Tobias led me towards the vanity.

"Here's that scanner you were looking for," he said, trying draw out a smile. I was clenching my teeth and trying to control my breathing. It was a strange feeling, to be angry with him, but want to him to comfort me, and also be afraid to touch him.

"What?"

Tobias took my hand, and I had to swallow the urge to pull away. I was in her room. I was in their room. We couldn't touch in here.

But as he placed my hand palm-down on the surface of the dresser, a blue square glowed around it. I gaped at it. This had to be Andalite technology. It reminded me so much of that night when we'd all touched the blue cube. It even felt the same, warm and tingly.

"Whoa."

He looked at me sheepishly. I could see in his eyes that he would always wish I would just stay out of trouble. If he kept that up, this relationship was going to be pretty rough for him.

"Unauthorized user attempting access," the mirror warned. "Dictate Security Override. Five seconds. Four Seconds. Three - "

"Security Override. User Rachel Berenson," Doubleday said clearly. "Authorize."

"If he didn't authorize you, this room would have exploded," Marissa explained.

"As things tend to do around me," I said dryly. "Why didn't you authorize me, Tobias? It's your base, isn't it?"

"You can't be authorized while in morph," Andre said. "It's one of the security features."

"One of many," Doubleday said proudly.

Suddenly the mirror lit up, and its reflective surface became a black computer screen. I jumped, startled.

"And now you know why I needed the basement apartment," Tobias said. "All this stuff had to be built into the ground and walls. Can't get away with that upstairs."

"Welcome to the Grid," Marissa declared.

It was, as described, a Grid. The first screen that flashed onto the mirror looked like a map, light blue on darker blue. It was vaguely shaped like the state of California, but made up of squares and rectangles, distorting the scale of distance. Small pinpoints of light were scattered across the map.

"Other bases," Tobias said. "Zoom Out."

The map suddenly became a warped shape of the United States. I could see the little pinpoints of light up and down the east coast. Each light was connected by a thin line, not all to each other, but to what looked like a silvery web. On each side of the country, there was a slightly larger, orange light. One seemed to be where New York was, and the other was just around where I assumed San Diego would be. The two webs, one on each coast, seemed to cluster around those points.

I could still sort of see my reflection in the screen. I was grinning stupidly and couldn't stop, it was so impressive.

"Headquarters?" I asked, pointing at the orange light in southern California.

"Bingo," Tobias said. In spite of himself, he was grinning widely at me and my expression. "Connect to West Coast HQ."

The mirror went black for just a second before it became a huge video feed. We were staring at what looked like an old warehouse, furnished with desks and computers and all sorts of other machines that I didn't even recognize. More Andalite technology, probably.

Andre rolled his eyes and muttered not-so-under-his-breath, "Why not just show the princess everything?"

I would have popped him one, if I hadn't been so distracted. There were people there, busy at work, typing at computers, reading notes, talking into headsets. None of them seemed to pay us any mind. I noted that they didn't seem to be dressed up in any kind of the uniform. In fact, they were wearing a random hodge-podge of outfits, from business suits to postal worker uniforms to food service aprons. They must have all had occupational secret identities. Job covers.

Remarkably, there were two Hork-Bajir among them, one chatting to a human by a large computer monitor, and the other typing at his own workstation. Even more shocking, the Andalite roaming among them, pointing a finger at two humans carrying a large box. I was in awe.

"Whoaaaa. Hork-Bajir? Andalites?"

"Unit 87 is an organization whose focus is alien relations," Doubleday pointed out. "It would defeat the purpose if it were all humans. We have three Andalites and four Hork-Bajir Seers in our ranks. Two Andalites and two Hork-Bajir here, and the rest are East Coast. That Andalite you see is Menderash. He, Tobias, and a woman named Norrie pretty much lead the West Coast agents. The East Coast leaders are a human, an Andalite, and one of the Hork-Bajir."

Suddenly a large face took up the entire mirror. It was a chubby, balding man in a white lab coat. He pushed up his thick plastic glasses and squinted.

"Tobias? That you?"

"Hey, Leonard," he greeted.

"Why are you human? I thought you guys were - no way. No way!" he gaped at me openly. "Is that her?! That's not her. Is that her?!"

"Be cool, Lenny, jeez." Marissa leaned in to whisper. "He has the hugest crush on you."

"Marissa! Come on!" Leonard whined. "Ugh. I'm - I'm sorry. Hi, uh, hi, Rachel."

"Hey."

"Oh, my God, it really is you!"

"Dude," Andre warned.

"Sorry! Oh, hi, Mr. Doubleday."

Doubleday shook his head. "Calm yourself, Leonard. Would you find Norrie for us? It looks like Menderash is busy."

"Norrie. Right. Yeah, I'll get her," he nodded awkwardly. "It was, uh, nice to meet you, Rachel."

"Likewise, Leonard," I said. He looked like he was about to wet his pants as he ran off. That wasn't exactly new, but I did feel a little embarrassed. Andre already thought so little of me, I didn't need the rest of them treating me different. Hopefully everyone would get as used to me as they were with Tobias.

It wasn't long before a new face filled the screen. A woman that bore a striking resemblance to Cassie, if she had kept her hair short and was ten years older, greeted us with a smile. She was dressed in a skirt and an awful sweater vest. If I had to guess, she was some kind of elementary school teacher.

"Hello, Tobias. And, oh, so this is the famous Rachel," She waved behind us at the others. "I'm Norrie. You'll be reporting to me shortly after you complete your training in New York."

"Right. Cool, thanks."

"Don't worry about it, you'll do fine," she reassured me.

"I wasn't worried."

She laughed.

"Of course not! Well, I can see why everyone's so enamoured with you," Norrie winked smugly at Tobias. We both looked at her blankly. Everyone? "Anyway, welcome. I guess since you haven't been fully initiated yet, I'm not supposed to show you much. But I think you'll find your groove here just fine. Just don't let Andre under your skin, all right?"

Marisa giggled.

"And don't let Tobias boss you around."

I snorted.

Doubleday stepped forward, standing next to me. "Rachel, if you'll be kind enough to excuse us? I have a few things to discuss with Norrie that I don't think an uninitiated recruit should trouble herself with. You can wait in the living room and we'll talk before we adjourn for the evening."

"All right," I relented. I'd already seen too much preferential treatment for one day, I didn't need to make things worse by insisting. "Uh, nice to meet you, Norrie."

I walked out of the room and Tobias followed me. The others shut the door so they could talk without us listening in.

"If you say 'sorry' I'll kick you," I said immediately.

He shook his head, amused. "You really wanna do this, huh?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm done trying to fight you about it," he sighed. I knew he was finally telling the truth. Tobias couldn't lie with that kind of smile slowly creeping on his face. "I saw you in there. I haven't seen you look that excited and alive about something in years. If this is what you really want, Rachel, I won't try to take it from you."

I hesitated. "That's a good boy. Because if you think I'm gonna give up something that cool…"

He laughed, grabbing my hand and squeezing. He pulled me around into the kitchen and I couldn't help but grin. That just goaded him on. "Rach, trust me when I say - you ain't seen nothin' yet. Once you get back from New York, I'm gonna show you everything, all the - "

"Come to Thanksgiving dinner with me."

He froze. "Huh?"

I didn't even know what I was doing. What I was saying. But meeting the agents, seeing the Grid, learning about Unit 87, and now Tobias laying off me, it all just gave me such a rush.

"Have Thanksgiving with me and my family?"

His expression slowly twisted in confusion and held for a few seconds, before melting back into a small and tentative smile.

"Are you sure?"

"No," I said honestly. But being sure never was a prerequisite for anything I did.

"Then sounds good to me."