CHAPTER ELEVEN: TOBIAS

Darkness came on quick tonight, not because of the season but because of the weather: by the time we were due back at Chapman's house, the clouds had come in thick and gray and the wind was strong enough to make me glad I'd walked instead of giving in to the urge to fly. Marco and Cassie were both wearing raincoats; Rachel and I weren't. I had a feeling that Rachel was going to try and talk me out of going in as Fluffer one more time, so I headed her off by asking, "Where's Jake?"

Rachel shook her head and I couldn't tell if she was white-faced with fear or fury. "Not coming," she said shortly. "Tobias, I don't think—"

I forced a laugh and cut her off again. "What, did he find something better to do than stand in the rain while I cough up hairballs in our assistant principal's house?" It wasn't a good joke, so I didn't mind that nobody smiled; I don't ordinarily make jokes. But I was so nervous I felt like I was going to vomit and I figured that joking around would help me settle—or at least help hide my nerves from the others. That was why Marco was always cracking wise, wasn't it?

Tonight all Marco said was, "His dad grounded him." I guess I looked surprised because Marco shrugged and added, "You know how parents are. Don't ask me to explain them."

I nodded like I got it, but inwardly I was trying to remember if my mom had ever grounded me. Nothing came to mind. I guess when your mom spends half her time chasing aliens and you don't have any friends to go out and get into trouble with, there's not much you can do that'll get you grounded.

And yet here I was, about to get myself into way more trouble than any After School Special had ever dreamed of with a bunch of people who, if not friends, were at least becoming something close.

Almost as if she heard my internal monologue, Rachel suddenly reached out and grabbed my hand. "You don't have to do this," she said urgently. "I can go-or we can just go home. Try again later."

I knew I was blushing, and I ducked down behind my hair instinctively to hide it-but I also knew I needed to face Rachel if she was going to listen to me. It was pretty dark out; maybe the overcast night sky would hide my flushing cheeks for me instead.

I took a deep breath and made myself meet Rachel's eyes. "No," I said. "We're doing this." I didn't say that I knew that if we didn't, she'd go in there alone without any back-up. I didn't say that I needed to do something to prove to everyone-and myself-that I was more than just a punching bag, more than just dead weight for the other Animorphs to drag around and protect. I didn't say that I felt as scared as her shrew had looked the other night, but that the idea of letting Rachel put herself in danger instead was even scarier.

But she held my gaze for several seconds, her pretty blue eyes wide and worried, and I think she understood.

At any rate she sighed and nodded and let go of my hand. "Okay," she said, sounding resigned. "Let's do it."

"What about Fluffer?" I asked. "It's a pretty gross night. What if he's spending it at home?"

"That's my cue," Cassie said. She pulled off her raincoat and handed it to Marco. Before I could ask what she meant, she was already sprouting feathers. "I'm on air patrol tonight." She flashed me a big, white-toothed grin before her mouth shot forward into a sharp beak; watching someone else morph was almost as startling as it was to watch yourself, but somehow on Cassie it didn't look as gross as on the rest of us.

Marco nodded and said in lofty tones, "And I, because I am a gentleman, will be holding the lady's clothes. And yours too, I guess, Tobias." He shook a finger at me in mock-scold. "But don't get used to this treatment, buddy. Alfred Pennyworth, I am not."

I managed a smile as I said, "Okay, Jeeves."

While Marco sputtered, I started to morph. I wasn't as fast as Cassie, and not nearly as elegant, but turning into a cat was more jarring for the sudden size difference than anything else; I'm not a particularly tall boy, but even Marco towers over your basic housecat.

Suddenly I was on the grass looking up as my clothing collapsed around me. I looked up at the now-distant faces of the others then just about jumped out of my skin-fur-as my eyes shifted to those of a cat's and the nightvision kicked-in.

{Whoa!} I said. {You really can see everything!}

Rachel gave me a thin smile. "Yeah," she said, "so make sure you use those eyes to keep a lookout for danger, okay?"

{Sure, sure,} I reassured her absently. My bones were rearranging, my spine telescoping out into a tail, and my nails tightening and hardening into beautiful retracting claws. Whiskers sprouted out the sides of my face as my ears migrated to the top of my head. Soft black and white fur poured across my skin like fluffy water and suddenly the ominous night didn't seem so bad.

I could smell rain on the way-don't ask me how I knew that's what I was smelling; somehow the cat brain just knew-but it wasn't here yet, and until water started coming down to ruin the party the night was mine.

I stretched, getting a feel for my new body-or maybe just enjoying how limber I was. I stretched again, just because I could, my muscles rippling under my fur coat. I felt great! All my worries about tonight-Chapman, Visser Three, Rachel, Jake-they all evaporated.

No, that wasn't it; they didn't evaporate, they just stopped mattering. What was there to be afraid of? I was Fluffer McKitty, and I could handle anything.

That thought knocked loose inside my head and rattled around hard enough to bring me to my senses. "I could handle anything?" Who the heck did I think I was? I was Tobias Whitman. I could barely handle making it home from the bus stop alive.

This unfamiliar confidence was all the cat's...and as weird and unsettling a feeling as it was, I didn't dislike it.

Was this what it felt like to be Rachel all the time?

Thoughts of Rachel returned me to the imminent mission as firmly as that out-of-place confidence had returned me to myself-mostly. I still felt better, way more settled and certain, than I could remember ever feeling on my own, but I knew who I was again. Knew myself well enough to know that this feeling wasn't me, would never be me.

But oh man, it was nice to pretend for a little while.

{Tobias? You in there?}

A voice in my head! I jumped three feet in the air and spun around, ready to face-down the threat-and relaxed as my human brain caught-up with the cat's instincts.

{Yes,} I said. I hoped that my own mental voice didn't sound as embarrassed as I felt. At least cats don't blush. {Sorry. Just getting used to things.}

{Well if you're ready now, I've found Fluffer,} Cassie said from her osprey morph. {He's almost five blocks away-}

"Five blocks?" Marco's voice. "Isn't that kind of far from home for an itty bitty little kitty?"

I could almost hear Cassie shaking her head. {Domestic cats travel a lot further than people think they do,} she said. {They've been tracked over several miles in the course of a single night, sometimes. That's part of why it's so important to keep pet cats inside. They can get in all sorts of-}

"Cassie!" Rachel's voice was sharp enough to make the fur on my back bristle. "Now isn't the time for another lecture about responsible cat ownership. Just tell us if we're clear for the mission or not?"

{Sorry.} Cassie sounded abashed.

I felt uncomfortable; I wasn't used to hearing Rachel snap at her best friend. I guess Marco felt the same, because he scuffed his foot and grumbled, "Time's wasting."

{Right,} Cassie said. {Well, we don't need to waste any more. Fluffer's out of the picture. Go ahead, Tobias.}

I took a deep breath and started walking. This was it...

"Hey-Tobias?"

I paused mid-saunter and looked back at Rachel. She seemed to be struggling to keep a smile on her face. I wasn't sure if it was the cat's senses or my own, but underneath the strained grin I could tell she was furious about something-probably the fact that I was going on this mission instead of her.

{Yeah?} I asked. It was strange; I should have felt guarded, maybe even angry that she had lied to all of us about how much danger I was about to be walking into, but I didn't.

She knelt down next to me. Her smile twitched away in a grimace but her hand, when she scratched my ear, was gentle. "Just-be careful, okay? Don't do anything risky." She paused but I didn't interrupt; with my sharp cat's eyes I could see the muscles in her throat jumping as she searched for the right words. "If anything seems...off, or whatever, just bail. Okay? Don't get yourself hurt trying to be a hero-doing something stupid. Like I'd do." Her smirk was weak and faded quickly. "Can you promise me you'll do that?"

{Don't worry about me,} I said. I pulled away from her fingers. {I know what needs to be done.}

"That's not what I meant…"

I was already walking away. I knew what she'd meant, just like I knew she was angry because she was scared. Because she felt guilty. Because she thought it should be her going into the Chapmans' house, not me. Should be her putting herself in danger, not me. Part of me, I'm ashamed to admit, wanted to demorph and let her do just that.

But this was a war, right? Eventually the others would need to know that they could count on me.

Eventually I would need to know that I could count on me.

While Rachel had been talking, the rain had started. I didn't like it. It made it impossible to smell anything; made it almost impossible to hear the squeaks and scratches of prey. I had barely started to get used to the cat's senses, and now they were all but gone.

I didn't think I was going to enjoy having wet fur, either.

So I ran to the Chapmans' house, ran to the kitty door that promised sanctuary. It was strange: the whole house smelled like me-like Fluffer-which meant that to the cat brain, it felt like safety. But my human brain knew that I was going somewhere almost as dangerous as the Yeerk Pool. I was going into my assistant principal's house...and possibly to my death.

Hey, don't be so grim! I thought to myself. Rachel said Chapman talked Visser Three out of killing the cat. That means as long as I keep my guard up and don't do anything stupid, I don't have anything to worry about.

I was lying, of course. But the natural confidence of the cat made the lie easy to believe.

Nobody paid me any mind as I scampered through the kitchen. I spotted Chapman sitting on the couch in what had to be the family living room. I paused and looked around, trying to orient myself; the place looked a lot different from my handful of inches off the ground than it had when I'd been peering through the windows in my hawk's body.

I needed to find the basement. That's where Rachel said Chapman went to contact Visser Three, so I'd figured I would just lie in wait down there and hope that their chats were a nightly ritual and not a weekly check-in or something. I wasn't worried about being spotted; cats are ambush hunters. Besides, it was a basement, there was sure to be stuff to hide behind.

My nose led the way: mustiness and damp, just the faintest trace but still out of place in this nice tidy home. I followed the smell to a partially opened door and the rough wooden staircase beyond. I slipped through the crack easily and bounded down the stairs (torn between the cat's happy agility and my own nervous vertigo from leaping face-first down a flight of stairs several dozen times taller than I was) and discovered I was right: the basement held a sort of secondary family room.

There was a TV, a pool table, a couch and some chairs. My human brain thought it looked cozy; my cat brain thought it looked like a good place to hide and wait for prey. I loped over and jumped up onto the pool table (jumped straight up! like it was nothing!). I gave it a good sniff, but there weren't any smells there that interested the cat side of me.

There was dust everywhere. I could hear spiders inside the TV set. It was obvious that the Chapmans' nice little basement hang-out hadn't been used in a long time.

I felt my jealousy over their nice home, their nice furnishings, evaporate. Maybe my mom and I lived in a crappy, rundown apartment that was small enough to fit inside this basement with room left over, but we weren't in thrall to evil alien slugs living in our brains.

There were worse things than tiny apartments and cheap packaged meals.

Suddenly-noise! Somebody was walking down the steps, somebody clumsy and heavy and huge.

I jumped off the pool table and darted under a chair. From the dusty space, I watched Chapman descend the staircase and walk across the basement. Compared to the cat's light-footed grace, he was an elephant. He was heading to the door in the opposite wall, a plain white door that didn't even have a cheap poster or a fading child's drawing taped to it. So many bare surfaces made me itch.

Then Chapman unlocked the door and revealed the second, stronger door behind it. This one was solid steel, like a bank vault-or something out of a super villain's lair. Inside my powerful cat body, I shivered.

Chapman opened this door not with his keys but with his hand, pressing it to a square of light that must have scanned his palm or fingerprints or something that was way too sci-fi to belong in this sad, neglected basement.

The door slid open and I lunged from my hiding spot as though I'd just seen the world's fattest mouse go waddling past. The door swooshed shut behind me, narrowly missing the tip of my tail, but I wasn't scared; I felt awesome. I felt invincible. I felt…

Trapped. I was trapped in a small room with a man who had almost killed "Fluffer" the last time one of us had been in this house. I didn't like it.

The cat wasn't scared of anything, though, so I drew back and let Fluffer set the pace. He sniffed at the door and decided he didn't care about it. He didn't care about Chapman, sitting down in the oddly normal-looking office chair in front of the sci-fi desk with the glowing panels and the complex sci-fi spotlight that had to be the source of the hologram that Rachel had told us about.

I looked around and decided that the best place to be was up against the desk, out of sight of both Chapman and-hopefully-the imminent hologram.

It wasn't hard to amble over without being detected; Chapman looked at his watch once then sat staring patiently at the blank wall in front of him, waiting. He clearly wasn't worried about being spied on by Animorphs.

I stretched out alongside the edge of the desk opposite his chair, doing my best to look relaxed: paws loose, tail loose, eyes closed…

{So, what's happening?}

I sat bold upright, my fur bristling out around me; I almost yowled, only remembering at the last minute to keep quiet.

{It's me, Jake. What's going on, Tobias?}

Jake?

I forced myself to lay back down; forced myself to close my eyes. It was hard; Fluffer was in no mood to relax right now...and frankly, neither was I.

{Jake?} I thought back. {What are you doing? Where are you?}

{Well...I'm wherever you are, buddy.}

This relaxing thing was not working. I sat up and rolled over, trying to settle back down before the Visser contacted Chapman. {What does that mean?} My thought-speak voice was flat, unhappy.

{It means I came with you. Hi.}

{You came with me. Really.} I would have made an exaggerated show of looking around, if I'd been human and we'd been talking face-to-face. {Funny,} I continued, {I don't see anyone in here but me and Chapman.}

{Where's here?} Jake asked.

{Chapman's little...sci-fi office in the basement.} It was so much easier to talk to people when I wasn't trapped in my big, awkward, uncomfortable human body; so much easier to face a confrontation without wanting to run away. I could even back-talk Jake Berenson without feeling the urge to shrivel-up into a puddle on the floor. {The place he talks to Visser Three. Who is due to be calling in any second now, so if we could cut to the chase on the Q&A…?}

{Okay,} Jake said. {Short story: I morphed. I'm a flea. And I'm currently somewhere on your back.}

The world stopped turning.

{You're what,} I said.

{Yeah. I mean, I might be on your head. I'm not really sure. I don't really have eyes. At least not eyes that see anything I can understand. I mean, all I know is warm or not warm. I...I think I can sense blood. That's about it. And I can kind of sense motion. Like when your hair stood up, I knew there was something going on around me.}

I wanted to evaporate. This was worse than the lunch table with Rachel. This was worse than waiting for Visser Three to call Chapman. Jake Berenson was somewhere on my body...as a flea.

I didn't realize I'd moved until I felt my claws against the concrete of the floor. I was sitting bold upright, my eyes open, my fur puffed out, my eyes open and staring-the very picture of a cat who was frightened and ready to fight.

I had to calm down-or at least pretend to-or I was going to get myself killed. Going to get both of us killed.

{Jake...why are you a flea.}

{So funny story,} Jake said, in the voice of someone who knows the story they're telling isn't funny at all. {It was Rachel's idea. I mean, she planned to be the one going in with you when she suggested it-}

{Rachel's idea?}

{Yeah,} Jake continued. {She was worried about you. Said she didn't want you going in alone.}

I narrowed my little kitty eyes. {Did she. And you agreed, I guess.}

{I...was convinced that she was worried for a reason,} Jake replied evasively.

{So neither of you thought I could handle this?}

{That's not it at all,} said Jake. He didn't sound like he was lying-but then, he was currently a flea. Somewhere on me. How would I know? {It was Rachel that I...well, it felt like there was more going on than she was telling us.}

{Us?} I repeated. {The others are in on this too?}

{Yes,} Jake admitted. {It was Cassie who helped me get a flea. Her barn-}

I wasn't interested in the logistics of flea-capture, or even flea-morphing right now. {So none of you thought I could do this.}

{I said that's not it,} Jake insisted. {It wasn't you I was worried about. It was Rachel.}

{Rachel,} I repeated.

{Something was off,} explained Jake. {She just kept insisting that you couldn't go in alone, that somebody had to go with you, yadda yadda. Wouldn't say why, wouldn't give a reason-but she was scared, Tobias. I could tell she was scared.}

I hesitated. I was angry with Rachel for sending Jake in without telling me, but I wasn't angry enough to want to rat her out. I made myself lie back down, made myself close my eyes; getting ready for the Visser. That was what mattered now, not whatever Rachel had or hadn't said or how creeped-out it made me to think about Jake-as-a-flea crawling around in my fur. I tried hard not to imagine how Jake's handsome features would look melting away into an exoskeleton...

I guess my not saying anything made Jake nervous, because when he continued speaking his words were terser, hurried. {Cassie told Rachel she would bring her a flea from the barn, would meet her outside Chapman's early so she'd have time to acquire it-but we decided it was too risky to send Rachel in, with her not telling us everything. So Marco and I convinced Cassie to help me acquire a flea instead, and when we all got here tonight it was too late for Rachel to do anything but go along with the revised plan.}

{That's why she was so angry,} I realized.

{Probably,} Jake admitted. He didn't sound like that bothered him. {But what could she do? I have a flea morph and she doesn't. It was me or nobody. So she had no choice but to go with it.}

{Great,} I said. I tried not to show how uncomfortable I felt. Would it have been better or worse to have Rachel be the one riding around on my back as a flea? I didn't know. But I knew I didn't like this.

{Do you know what she wasn't telling us?} Jake asked.

Suddenly painfully bright light snapped on; the hologram, I guessed, but I didn't dare open my eyes to check. If I wanted to sell the image of an innocent cat catching a nap, I couldn't look too interested in anything that was going on in this room.

It was almost a relief, even though it meant Visser Three was here and things had just gotten a hundred times more dangerous; it gave me an excuse not to answer Jake's question.

{Jake, the Visser is here! In hologram, I mean!} I said. {Be quiet. Don't distract me right now.}

{Okay,} he said. {But tell me what's going on when you can, will you? I'm feeling really out of the loop in this flea body.}

{Sure,} I said absently, trying to will my tail to stop twitching. Maybe if Chapman noticed it, he would just think Fluffer was having a particularly vivid dream. Then my ears pricked-up at the sound of a voice that wasn't inside my head: Chapman was speaking.

"Welcome, Visser. Iniss two two six of the Sulp Niaar pool submits to you. May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you."

"And you," Visser Three said curtly. "Report."

Chapman told him about the new hosts he'd recruited, about how well The Sharing was working, but the Visser didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was the Andalite bandits-and as I could personally attest, Chapman didn't know anything more about us than he had last time.

"Visser, what can I do...unless they show themselves?"

The Visser suggested that he look into the source of our morphs and I winced inwardly; there weren't a lot of places in the area where somebody could find a tiger, a gorilla, and an elephant. Would they figure out we'd gotten our morphs at the Gardens? Even if they did, would it matter? Hundreds of people went to the Gardens every day; there was nothing suspicious about five more middle school kids hanging out there, and if anyone knew that we'd been in the animal enclosures we'd already be in trouble for that…

I filled Jake in on the rest of their conversation as best I could as it went along. It seemed promising-they were putting extra guards on the Kandrona, for one thing-but neither of them mentioned where it was. I guess when you already know a thing's location, you don't bother to say it out loud a lot when you're talking to someone else who also knows where it is, huh? How inconvenient.

Maybe we'd have better luck infiltrating another meeting of The Sharing and trying to scope-out the new conscripts, follow them around instead; maybe we could crash a New Controller Orientation…

I guess I let myself get a little too confident, a little too comfortable; even while I was listening intently to Chapman and Visser Three, the cat side of me was getting bored and sleepy. Before I was even aware of the impulse, I was stretching out with a big yawn-settling down for a proper nap.

That wouldn't have been a big deal if it had been a silent yawn, but Fluffer-me-let out a little mewl of contentment. That wouldn't have been a big deal either if I'd done it while the Visser was pontificating, but just my luck: the soft sound fell right into one of the silent pauses between the Visser's commands and Chapman's servile responses.

{What was that?} the Visser demanded.

Chapman was already shoving himself out of his chair and leaning around the side of the desk.

I looked up and froze-then realized that was the worst thing I could do.

Chapman stared at me, horror and fury in his eyes.

"It's the animal, Visser. The cat," Chapman said in a voice full of loathing and fear.

Visser Three seemed to make a seething, half-hissing noise.

{You should have killed it when I told you to, Iniss two two six.}

"But Visser-" Chapman protested.

{And yet it all works out to my advantage,} Visser Three said. {Now there can be no doubt that this cat is one of the Andalite bandits.}

I had to think fast. What could I do that would convince them that I was just a cat? What could I do that no human-no Andalite-in morph would ever do?

I thought of Aragorn and the answer came to me immediately. It was gross. It was disgusting. It made my little kitty stomach turn-over unhappily. It was also the only way out of this situation.

I leaned over and licked my own butt.

{We will no longer have to…} The Visser's voice trailed off. I kept washing.

It was weird: the cat part of me found my behavior perfectly natural. The human part of me was freaking-out over the fact that my tongue was touching my butthole, but to the cat it was no big deal. Just normal, everyday grooming behavior.

I tried not to think about what I was doing; tried to let the cat instincts guide me while inside the human part of me was going "Ew! Ew! Ew!" over and over. Tried not to think about what Marco would say if he could see me now; tried not to think about the kind of face Rachel would make…

The important part was that it seemed to be working.

{What is the creature doing?} the Visser asked.

"It...it's grooming itself, Visser." Chapman's voice was tight, strained. I couldn't tell what he thought about all this. "It is a common cat behavior."

{Interesting,} said the Visser. {Am I correct that that orifice is where the animal excretes its waste?}

"...Yes, Visser," said Chapman.

I almost laughed. Here was the leader of the Yeerk invasion of Earth talking about cat butts with my assistant principal.

{Hmm,} said Visser Three.

For a long moment the only sound in the room was the pant of Chapman's nervous breath and the slight slurp of my sandpaper-rough tongue sliding across my own body.

{Tobias?} Jake's voice in my head. {You're awful quiet all of a sudden. What's going on?}

{The Visser spotted me. He was kind of suspicious.}

{He was? } Jake repeated. {What are you doing now?}

{I'm...washing,} I replied evasively. {Normal cat stuff. I think they're buying it.}

I moved onto my toes, gave the claws a good tugging the way I've seen Aragorn do a million times. It should have been awkward, holding my hind leg up to my face and pulling at my own feet with my mouth, but to the little cat body it was no big deal.

Just like licking its own butt was no big deal.

I suppressed a shudder and switched to the other leg. It let me sneak a look at Chapman and the Vissser's hologram without looking like I was trying to look at them.

They were both staring at me, which was kind of creepy. It also made the boy in me self-conscious, although the cat didn't care. I don't think cats even know what that feeling is.

I wish I could be a cat forever.

"Visser, what...what should I do with Fluffer McKitty?" Chapman asked.

{Don't kill it,} Visser Three said, and if I'd been in my human body I would have breathed a sigh of relief big enough to get us right back into trouble again-or maybe laughed at Chapman's Yeerk using the ridiculous name Melissa had given her cat.

{We're okay,} I told Jake. {The bathing worked.}

{Cool,} Jake said. {What-}

But the Visser wasn't done. {Seize it instead. I will send soldiers to assist. You will hold it for two of your earth hours; after that it will no longer matter if it is an Andalite or not!}

He laughed. I felt a chill crawl down my spine.

"What if it is an Andalite?" Chapman asked. He sounded nervous now. "What if it demorphs?"

{Then it dies. Do you hear that, Andalite?} Visser Three laughed some more. He sounded like he was having the time of his life. {What do you have to say to me now?}

Keep quiet, I told myself. He thinks you're a cat. He just wants to be sure.

That would have been a more reassuring thought if the Visser's plan to "be sure" wasn't going to end with me either dead or trapped as a cat for the rest of my life...or worse.

I let Chapman pick me up. I squirmed a little, like a real cat would, but I didn't fight; that would have given me away for sure. I let him carry me out of the room, shouting for his wife to bring the cat carrier. It was hard to see freedom only a few claw-swipes away and stay curled against Chapman's chest, but I couldn't risk making a break for it. If I tried and failed, they'd know I was in morph. And if they figured out I was human...

For the sake of the others, I had to let the Yeerks take me. I had to let them trap me.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run.

Instead I said, {Bad news, Jake...}