Chapter 6

Within the next thirty earth-minutes, Rachel and I were approaching the address Erek had given us. Both of us had morphed birds of prey; I was my Northern Harrier, and Rachel a Bald Eagle.

Rachel's left leg carried a portable radio communication device the Chee had modified to be small enough for a bird to carry. Of course, in her bird morph, Rachel could not use the machine herself, but both of us could hear messages from the Chee watching everyone, so that we would know who had actually found the Sub-Visser.

(That's the building, Ax,) Rachel said, swooping down from the sky toward a vast, glass and concrete structure with many windows and balconies. I still marvel at how humans insist on building upwards rather than outwards. Why live in cramped boxes when you can live in fields and grasslands?

(Erek says we want the north-facing balcony on the fortieth floor,) Rachel said, as I came up alongside her. We landed on a smaller building opposite our target. (Which way are we facing?)

(We are looking at the east-facing wall,) I said. (And we have been in morph for twenty-two minutes.)

(Do you just say 'your minutes' when Marco is around?)

I laughed. (In fact, it occurs to me that I say 'your minutes', solely to irritate Marco.

(Ax,) Rachel laughed, (I love you.)

We took to the air again and swept onto another building that faced the north wall of the human apartment building. I scanned up from the bottom of the building to the fortieth level.

(There are several balconies on the fortieth level, Rachel,) I said, slightly worried. (How are we to know which one is our target?)

Rachel ruffled her feathers. (By elimination,) Rachel replied. I heard some dark undertones with the use of that word, elimination.

(There may be no need for that,) I said. (Observe the balcony, second in from the left side of the level.)

(Is that what I think it is?)

(Correct,) I agreed. (A Dracon beam-weapon, lying carelessly on the balcony, along with a copy of the New York Times, and a book called 'The Da Vinci Code'.)

Rachel laughed. (They make way too easy for us. Maybe the Yeerks don't take us seriously anymore. Should we remind them of what we can do?)

(We do not yet know if this is the Sub-Visser's place of residence,) I reminded Rachel. We need to see inside the elevated scoop to be sure.)

(Ax, it's called an apartment, not a scoop.)

(Oh,) I said with confusion. (It does bear striking resemblances to a scoop.)

(I think you should take a look without me, Ax) Rachel suggested. (You're smaller than me. I think she might notice if an eagle lands on her balcony.)

(I agree,) I said, swooping from our lookout toward the balcony. I flew to the side, out of sight, and perched myself on a frame surrounding a glass window, safely out of sight.

(My ears are registering no sounds, Rachel,) I reported. (Should I investigate further?)

(Yeah,) Rachel said. (Ax? If a male leader is called a Prince among Andalites, what do you call a female leader?)

(Andalites do not often have female soldiers,) I replied. (It is customary for Andalite females to take up positions in politics or science rather than the military.)

Rachel harrumphed, and I crept silently around so that my eyes could see inside the balcony. The screen door was ajar, but I could see no signs of current inhabitation.

Then something! The harrier's keen sense of smell, a thousand times more potent than my own, picked up a scent that no Andalite could possibly miss. A human. Or, more properly, a Controller.

Safely out of sight, I watched as a young, severe-looking human woman walked serenely out of an adjoining bathroom into the main chamber. She moved with elegance and grace that did not seem appropriate for a human, let alone a human-Controller; a subordinate of Visser Three.

The Controller was wearing tight-fitting, brown pants made of material called leather, with a similarly styled jerkin on the upper half of her body, covering what I gather is near to the bare minimum of her body, cut off at the midriff. The design was what humans would consider provocative, though I myself mind no humans, Controller or otherwise, physically attractive at all. It was a classic example of a Yeerk's maniacal ego gone wild. This Yeerk knew that its human host was attractive, and it exaggerated it. Such behaviour is not uncommon.

(Ax?)

It was Rachel. I responded. (I have the Controller in my sights,) I said. (It would be prudent for you to demorph and inform the others that we have found Sub-Visser Thirteen.)

(Oh sure, no problem,) Rachel shot back. (Demorph. On the thirtieth floor of an apartment building.)

(I can contact the Chee is you would prefer.)

(I'll do it,) Rachel growled.

I turned my bird head about and watched as Rachel's bald eagle slowly melted away and became her human body, clad in her morphing outfit.

(Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline,) I said.

Rachel's face took on an offended look. I saw her raise an eyebrow at me.

(I have just noticed the remarkable similarity that you bear to the human women I have seen on The Break. They often appear, walk around and smile, and then I hear those words.)

"Are you hitting on me, Ax?" Rachel asked with a smile.

(No, Rachel. We are separated by a vertical drop of over sixty of your metres. It is impossible for me to hit you.)

Rachel rolled her eyes and picked up the small radio device from by her feet. She relayed our information to the Chee.

I turned around again, just as Sub-Visser Thirteen walked out onto her balcony. She picked up the Dracon weapon, and the books from the floor, and looked up ― at me.

Her face contorted in confusion as she locked eyes with a Northern Harrier; a bird not normally seen in urban areas. Would she see through my guise?

"How peculiar," she said, speaking with an accent I had never heard before. It was as though she too were unused to human mouth-sounds, because when she spoke the letter 'r', it was as though she were purring, as does an Earth cat.

Without so much as another look in my direction, Sub-Visser Thirteen whirled about and walked back in to her chambers, and her telephone began to ring, signalling that someone was trying to contact her. She picked up the receiver.

"Da?" she said.

(Rachel, what does 'da' mean?)

(The host is Russian, Ax) Rachel replied. (Da is Russian for yes.)

"Chapman?" she shrieked. "Why are you calling me? I have no time for pathetic, low-grade morons like you!"

Rachel shuffled up next to me, again in her golden eagle morph, and looked intently at me.

(She must know him,) Rachel said wryly. The Sub-Visser continued.

"I don't care what Visser Three said!" she said, spitting out the words as though they defiled her mouth. "I am under orders from the Council of Thirteen! In this instance, my authority exceeds his!"

(If nothing else, she is brave,) I commented.

(Or stupid,) Rachel added. (The others are heading to meet the Chee at the Mall. Erek wants us to follow her to the Yeerk pool, and see if she gets attacked. You'd better demorph and remorph. I don't want us to have to stop in case we lose her.)

"Chapman," the Sub-Visser snarled. "If you ever call me with so ridiculous a request again, I will personally feed you to the Taxxons. Is that clear? Of course I don't know where the Visser is! I don't care if he is late for his Kandrona feeding. It's his own fault for being so arrogant if he's lying face down in that feeding ground of his on his way to the pearly gates. Bah! Pathetic Andalite bodies! Absorbing nutrients through their feet ― how absurd."

I snarled. This Yeerk was even worse than most.

"I will be at the pool momentarily," the Russian Yeerk said imperiously. "If Visser Three is not back within the hour, I will assume command."

She slammed the receiver down, placed the Dracon beam into a handbag (a most deceiving name; handbags are in fact worn over the shoulder), and walked out of the elevated scoop's door, locking it behind her.

(Time to fly, Ax,) Rachel said, turning around and taking to the air. I followed. (We can watch her from up here. Hurry up and demorph!)

I flew to the roof, and slowly shifted out of my bird morph. My feathers receded into short, blue Andalite fur, and my wings themselves changed into my familiar arms, whilst my small bird feet promptly burst forward into powerful Andalite legs with strong-as-steel hooves. Out of my chest burst my front legs and I fell silently onto them. Last came my tail. I watched as Rachel followed the Sub-Visser's path, looking through the windows.

(She's in the elevator,) Rachel said imperatively. (Hurry it up, Ax!)

(Have a break, have a Kit-Kat,) I replied.

Soon I was in bird morph again, flying in small circles alongside Rachel. With my incredibly acute vision, I saw, even from our great height, as the Sub-Visser swaggered out of the door to the large building, and began to walk in the direction of the Mall. To the Yeerk pool.

(Time to follow,) Rachel said. We did. We followed the minimally dressed Controller swaggering down the street toward the Mall; totally oblivious to the fact she was being followed.

(I for one wouldn't mind if she got sliced and diced,) Rachel said sharply. (Anyone who swings their behind like that deserves that, at the very least.)

I nodded in silent agreement, and watched as the Sub-Visser turned sharply into an alleyway. Our vision became obscured by a sudden swarm of humans on the ground.

(We can't lose her!) Rachel shouted in thought-speak. I followed her as she shot forward and turned into the alleyway.

I was soon hit by a grim realization. (The Sub-Visser is not down there.)

Rachel swooped down into the alley and landed silently atop an overflowing dumpster. She scanned the alley from the entrance, to the wall at its end, as did I.

(Where did she go?) Rachel yelled.

I followed Rachel to the ground, and landed on the ground, beside and beneath her. I demorphed, since it was dark enough for any humans walking down the adjoining street to miss me, even if they happened to glance my way, which humans invariably do.

I looked up and down the alley again. I stared at the end wall with all four eyes…something was not right.

"TSEEER!"

My four eyes snapped around as Rachel's morph screamed out at me, and she immediately fell into a heap. There was a small metal dart in her side.

Then ― a hiss of escaping air, and something hit me in the neck. Immediately, my vision began to blur.

She was standing in front of me. Sub-Visser Thirteen, holding not a Dracon beam, but a simple human projectile weapon, smiling broadly.

With my vision and hearing swirling into nothing, I heard a sinister laugh that only a Controller could muster. How had she sneaked up on me?

"Too bad, Andalites," she cackled. "You are mine."