Chapter 7

Jake had finished for the night and left the designated crew lounging area, abandoning the shiny metal table in the center of the room with sheets of Mak paper sprawled across in a chaotic manner. He had grown taciturn since leaving Makroovi, so engrossed in formulating his ideas. He was more of a leader than ever.

But everybody has their limits, and he had reached his. As soon as he left for his quarters, I swooped into the room and took my place on a large pipe hanging horizontally from the ceiling. My eyes searched among the sheets, and I focused on the artist's pictures that Jake had become so obsessed with.

It had been two days since we'd left the Mak homeworld. With each of us capable of morphing Kelbrid - and with vague coordinates to Kyritlyp, as speculated by Menderash - nothing was holding us from tackling the next phase of our mission. However, the clues we had found were troubling, and that was why Jake was so determined to piece together answers. It was clear that the Yeerks were gone and that the Mak and Kelbrids were allied, but that raised a prominent question: Why were Yeerks freely traveling Kelbrid space with cutting-edge Kelbrid technology whose actions were determined by a base on the Kelbrid homeworld? It made no sense.

And Jake had conversed with the Visser recently. The Visser was adamant that the Kelbrids would save him from his Earthly prison.

Maybe soon we would find some answers, but that was not why I'd entered the room.

I recalled the drawing of the child. It was one that did not belong to me, and never would, but the remembrance of it was clear in my mind, and the simple innocence of it permeated like a field of fragrance. For some reason, it wouldn't leave me, even when my wandering eyes collapsed to the image of an Andalite sliced in two below the celebrating alien allies.

If what I saw was true, then the Mak were our enemies. I didn't feel it true, though.

Footsteps approached, but I couldn't find the urgency to fly out to isolation before they arrived. I remained on my perch and awaited the empty conversation. However, that hope was to be dashed.

"Tobias?" Cassie said upon noticing me. She bent her head back to see me directly as she entered. "Hey."

((Hi Cassie,)) I replied nonchalantly. ((I thought you would be asleep. Your shift isn't for another two hours.))

"I can't sleep," she said before taking Jake's seat against the messy table. "And your shift isn't for another four hours."

She had me there. ((I can't sleep either.))

"Jake's been so busy…" she sighed as she looked over all the papers. "And he's hardly said anything to anybody. Marco is suffering from some form of PTSD. And Jeanne…"

((Jeanne's a mystery,)) I concluded subtly.

"Yeah, she is. You were talking to her in the capital, right?"

I ruffled my feathers while recalling. ((Quite a lot. I tried to keep in her range so we wouldn't split off, just like Jake ordered.))

"And she always responded?" she asked.

((Always,)) I said assuredly. ((At least once every thirty seconds. I know that you're probably the quickest of all of us at morphing, Cassie. How fast have you done it before?))

She paused to think, running her left hand over the sheets of paper on the table. ((Just under a minute is the fastest for me.))

((And a demorph-remorph cycle?))

"Just over two minutes. Maybe less, I don't know…"

Jeanne certainly was an enigma. It wasn't often that I would speak to her, but that was the same with everybody. Jake was determined to get down to explanations, and only he and Jeanne knew if he'd received them.

In the midst of my analysis, Cassie instigated a sudden and uneasy change of subject. "You shouldn't hide away, Tobias."

((Huh?)) I responded, caught off-guard. ((What do you mean?))

"You hardly talk to anybody. It's not good for you."

I suddenly found myself in a haze of nostalgia. Cassie was totally different to Menderash, though, and it felt somewhat more comfortable. ((I'm not hiding away. If I were, I wouldn't be here.))

"I don't mean it literally," she uttered. "Though, you did hide away from me."

((Yellowstone is a big place,)) I replied coldly.

"You think I don't know that you had a tree only about three miles from my home?" she countered with a knowing smile. "You should know that I have insiders checking up on you."

((Yeah, I know. I appreciate the concern, I guess. I just…))

"You don't want to be you."

I was taken aback by her forwardness. ((No. No, that's not it.))

She narrowed her eyes with intent to unravel me. "I want you to tell me, Tobias," she requested. "I don't want to see you avoiding us all as you do."

I remained silent. The talk was going far beyond my comfort zone.

"You don't want to be Human, do you?"

She was grabbing an answer from my silence. ((I'm not a Human.))

"You're a hawk with a Human mind," she reasoned. "To the rest of us, you're Human. I think you feel the same."

((I don't. And I'm not Human. I'm part Human, part hawk… Part Andalite. Probably part other-things, too. I'm a freak, Cassie.))

"You aren't a freak," she disputed. "You're a Human, Tobias. Unique, yes, but that doesn't make you a freak."

I relented to her but took a few moments to gather my thoughts and words. ((I don't know who I want to be. When we were in Makroovi, I saw the kind of peace and content that the Mak lived under. I wanted that. To live my life without worrying about losing my values or anything else. But then I saw that.))

I motioned my head to the images of the defeated Andalites, and Cassie followed. "These?"

((Just another race caught up in war and loss.))

Cassie nodded sorrowfully. "I saw it all, too."

The conversation appeared to end there, and I rustled my wings in preparation for flight.

"You're one of us, Tobias," Cassie spoke. "You always will be."

I dropped from my perch and took an immediate left turn. Steadying myself, I descended to the floor of the corridor outside, readying to lift off again.

But a shadow fell over me from the aftward corridor. When I turned, I saw her silhouette outlined by the red glow of The Shadow's grimy interior lighting. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, and some flowed in the light breeze of the ship's ventilation. Her posture was one of strength and supreme self-confidence. A warrior's stance.

My eyes adjusted to the lighting. Jeanne was there, watching me from a distance.

I turned on the spot and flew back to my isolation.