3 - the possible
As he walked on into the forest, he demorphed, finally putting Cassie down and making her walk along beside him. He wished he had taken some supplies from Cassie's home, but he had not. He wished he could have returned to wolf, which would have made this trip so much easier, but he doubted he could make Cassie morph.
He grumbled and walked on, half-blind, searching his mind for a good morph as he went.
Finally, he sighed and realised that the only available morph he had able to transport Cassie, aside from human, was gorilla, which would not help him much. He remained human. Gorilla would increase his strength, true, but Cassie scarcely weighed more than a child.
It was close to dawn when they arrived.
"Open up," Marco wearily told the small fighter in front of him. "It's me."
The craft had the appearance and shape of an overly large almond, but made of gleaming steel. It was a Tenkharian shuttle craft, made to function primarily as some sort of taxi between the many moons which made up the Tenkharian realm. It was armed with a single cannon, more to blast stray asteroids than enemies, but still powerful. Setting out with it, he had been surprised but pleased to see that it mastered z-space, even more surprised at finding out that it carried enough supplies to last him almost all the way home (on strict rations), and more surprised than anything at the growing realisation that the Elŷrrics were not following him.
But then again, why would they bother? One slave, more or less, did they care? Did they even notice?
A hatch appeared on the craft's side at the sound of Marco's voice, and he gently hoisted Cassie in through it before entering himself.
"Close hatch," he instructed, and the trusty little craft obeyed again.
The fighter's inside was simple but cosy, split into two chambers: a living quarters in the back, and a small bridge, where there was one chair for the driver, and ten for the passengers. The chairs he had adapted with the use of his wide variety of morphs until they were fit for humans, but they were still far from comfortable. The living quarters had been fit for humans from the start: the tall, serpent-like Tenkhari, just as humans, liked soft and flat beds. No matter that they were round instead of rectangular – Marco had been sleeping like a king. Having folded out only one of the eleven possible beds from the walls, there had even been enough room for a human to move about the chamber.
He deposited Cassie on the bed, and made sure she was comfortable. She closed her eyes as if to sleep, and Marco awkwardly patted her shoulder before leaving her to rest.
He exited the craft and went to fetch water in a nearby spring, swinging a container as he walked. On the way back, when it was full, he did not swing it as easily. He left it in the foremost chamber of his fighter, checked on Cassie to see that she was sleeping, and went back out. Now, he morphed the great horned owl, and set off hunting. He came back, roughly two hours later, with a dead rabbit in one hand.
He sat down outside the fighter and began to prepare the creature. His Hork-Bajir morph came to good use in skinning the small creature, and in splitting the meat into manageable bits, even if the Hork-Bajir was a bit clumsy.
As the sun rose, the meat was being turned slowly on a skewer over a small fire, just beginning to smell edible. He picked one piece off the skewer and inspected it, taking a bite. It was still pink at the centre, but the edges had not yet blackened – almost perfect. He took the entire skewer off the fire, sat down near the warmth of the fire, and began to eat.
When he had finished his meal, he re-entered his small ship and checked on Cassie.
She was still asleep. She had curled together, in the middle of the bed, both arms wrapped around her belly, and her face was twisted with horror. Now and again, she would twitch, and pull her knees even closer to her chest, or hunch her head down between her shoulders, like one awaiting a beating.
Marco watched for a moment, feeling lost, and knowing that his eyes were aglow with anger. Whoever had caused Cassie to be like this? He doubted it was the medicines the people at Cassie's house had been speaking of. Medicines – probably meant to keep her docile – would have prevented this, not caused it. The meds were leaving Cassie's system – something else was tormenting her.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached awkwardly out to touch her shoulder, unsure whether or not it was meant to wake her, or to comfort her.
"Ronnie," she murmured, grasping his hand with both her own, holding it to her chest. Her face grew serene, and her body relaxed, easing down on the bed.
Marco did not have the heart to contradict her, or to pull his hand back. He squeezed Cassie's fingers and remained where he was, watching her sleep.
She finally opened her eyes, and searched around the unfamiliar room until she found Marco. Relief flooded her face, and then left her in the way of a small sigh. She released his hand, closing her eyes again.
"Jake?" she asked in a small voice. "Tobias? Ax?"
"No," Marco whispered, settling the ordinary lid heavily over the grief. He still had to be the strong one – he had hoped he was done with that. He had hoped that coming home would allow him to finally give in to the memories, the now-old grieves, and the fears. He needed so to weep.
Instead, he had found the person he had hoped would support him, comfort him, in even more need of help than he was.
Cassie did not break out into sobs, as he had feared. She gave a small nod. For a moment, she was quiet. During that moment, her eyes opened again.
"What's happened, Cassie?" Marco wondered softly. "Tell me what's wrong."
Cassie straightened her neck and looked up at him, past the knees she still held pulled to her chest. "They've taken my child."
Marco's instinctive reaction was Yeerks! He froze in place, and – and realised that no, not Yeerks, they were gone from Earth. It could not, he assured himself, be the Elŷrrics either. The Elŷrrian realms were on the other side of the Kelbrid territory, and for that he was grateful.
He went over the options in his head, and only found one credible alternative: "Ronnie," he growled.
Ronnie would regret it if Marco ever caught him. He had ruined Marco's return home as surely as the Elŷrrics' mind-warpers had tried to do so. And Ronnie had hurt Cassie. Two goals Marco had had in coming: partly, to restore his own peace. Foremost, though, was a promise he had made to Jake: make sure Cassie was okay. That was exactly what he intended to do. And the only bright spot he saw in Ronnie's future, was the fact that Jake had not come himself. A grim darkness settled over him. Ronnie would wish he had never seen the light of day.
"Ronnie's dead," she told him.
Marco blinked and frowned, almost scowling. Ronnie had been a perfect target for his anger.
"They killed him," Cassie whispered, her saddened eyes locked on his, pleading for his... sympathy? Understanding?
Pleading for him to stand on her side?
Of course he would. He reached down his hand towards her again, and she took it, holding it almost painfully tight.
"They killed him because... because of his opinions." She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him, but he listened anyway. "He spoke too strongly and too often for what he believed in," she continued, her dry eyes revealing her grief more strongly than a flood of tears would have done.
She had already cried too much.
"What did he believe in?" Marco asked, as Cassie lapsed into silence.
"He believed in the Hork-Bajir, and other aliens. Many don't like them... don't like their presence on Earth. Don't like space ports which have been opened for interstellar trade." Cassie bit her lip and closed her eyes. "He was beginning a political career. They silenced him – and they tried to kill me."
"But Animorphs don't die easily," Marco murmured, smiling and on an impulse touching her cheek.
She opened her eyes, and they were as listless as when she had first opened the door. She did not even look at him, only staring into space. "They've taken my daughter," she croaked.
"We'll get her back," Marco assured her softly, and asked: "What's her name?"
"Tanya."
"Tanya," he repeated, and nodded. "And where are your parents?"
"Plane crash," she told him in an empty voice. "An accident. Before... before Ronnie died."
Marco gave another small nod, sympathy in his every feature. Things had gone badly indeed for Cassie since he and the others had left Earth.
