The Refugee
Epilogue- Feralae
My name is Feralae. In the weeks following my defeat of Visser 3, I was too busy to feel sad. I didn't feel sad anymore at all, I realized. I woke up at six every morning, ate, and meditated for an hour. At Eight in the morning I would say good bye to David, morph golden eagle and glide down the mountain to the Valley. There I would teach the young hork bajir the English Language, human culture and basic Math. I would read them a story and then we would break for lunch.
After Lunch the Ketrans, Alda, Bara, and Toby joined me in a special class. There I taught them what I knew of English, Spanish, Latin, Japanese, and Navajo. I taught more advanced math, science, and history. Those who were interested learned more about philosophy and mythology, and once a week I set up a temporary smithy and a make shift loom to teach the basics of metalwork and weaving.
Then there was Music Class. Every Sunday night, the twins, Alloran, and a group of Ketrans that were interested took music class. I made pan pipes out of reeds and figured them out by ear. I made recorders out of metal and drums out of metal and wood. My guitar was my guitar of course. I only let Alloran use it. The hork bajir were delighted with music, even though they didn't exactly know how to make it. And the Ketrans loved music just as much, if not more, than the hork bajir did. I guess when you spend all of your time carrying a giant crystal around a planet you don't exactly evolve music do you?
A matter of weeks later Marco, Alloran and I were scouting out a possible yeerk pool entrance at the new YMCA Teen Center when we ran into Taylor. Alloran and I were disguised, I as Nyassa, mild mannered teen musician and Alloran as my younger brother Larad.
Taylor didn't recognize us. I was tuning my guitar when I caught the basketball headed my way. "Hey you!!" Taylor called. "You play basketball?"
"Pretty well." I answered warily.
"Great, then you're my new center." Taylor said in a business like manner. "Do you know somebody to play guard?"
"Yeah, pretty much. OY MARCO!" I shouted.
"YEAH?" He called back.
"Come play basketball with us! We need a guard!"
"Basketball with two drop dead gorgeous chicks! Hell yeah!" Marco practically leapt from the bleachers for an opportunity to put the moves on Taylor. That was an act of course, but a funny one. Marco and I were, "Covering for" each other. That is to say that the two of us pretended to be involved with each other to cover up our sexual orientation, so when Marco finished putting the moves on Taylor, he found ample opportunity to brush against me on the court; typical male dominance thing.
I'm not sure when the change began. I stopped being afraid of accidentally killing my mother. Maybe it was getting to know Marco. Maybe it was the knowledge that we were in the same boat, because both our mothers were the host bodies of Vissers. Whatever it was, Marco and I were in butterfly morph on the windowsill when my mother/Visser 3 gave birth to my little brother.
"What shall we call him?" Asked Visser 3.
"How about…" Dad/Loscar thought for a moment. "Evan."
They agreed, and I flew up to the roof. Alloran! Ax! They've decided. My brother's name is Evan! I cried in joy as we flew up to the roof where they waited for me. Ten minutes later a pair of Harris Hawks sailed upwards and eastwards, towards the mountains.
Towards home.