A/N Okay, I know I said this one would be up sooner, but apparently I lied. Well, now it's summer and I have more time. So, anyway, Happy Flag Day, and enjoy!

Once we were all back in the barn, I produced the piece of paper, and studied it again. There were three sets of numbers, with two or three in each. The others were looking at me expectantly. I shrugged. "It's just a bunch of numbers." I handed the paper to Jake. "Dates and times, maybe?"

Jake frowned, looking at the paper. "Surely it's not some kind of code?" He ran a hand through his hair. "And why the temperature? 451º?"

Cassie, who'd been kneeling in front of the cages, checking on a groundhog with a broken leg, looked up very suddenly. Tobias raised his eyebrows, interestedly. Marco yawned and said, "Maybe it's not a message at all, and he was just writing down the page numbers of recipes he liked in his favorite cookbook."

Cassie laughed. "That's it! Page numbers!" Marco looked startled at being taken seriously, and before anyone could ask Cassie what she meant, she had run off into the house.

Jake looked around at the rest of us, bewildered. I shook my head. "I don't know much about cooking," I said, "but I'm pretty sure there aren't many recipes that tell you to heat the oven to 451º Fahrenheit."

"The temperature at which books burn," said Tobias softly.

I turned to look at him. "What?"

Before he could explain, Cassie ran back into the barn, clutching a small, paperback book. She held it up so we could all see the cover. Fahrenheit 451. Ray Bradbury.

Jake raised his eyebrows. "Okay. I guess it is page numbers." He handed Cassie the piece of paper.

She sat down on one of the hay bales and opened the book. She glanced down at the page, then back at the paper. "The first number in each set is obviously the page number, but what is '3-6'?" She looked back at the book and ran her eyes over the page. Then she nodded. "Paragraphs. Paragraphs three through six."

"Four whole paragraphs on just the first page?" Marco asked, dismally.

"They're short," Cassie assured him. "It's dialogue." She started to read.

"'Do you ever read any of the books you burn?'" She glanced up at us, then continued. "He laughed. 'That's against the law!'" I looked around at the others. Jake was standing with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, trying to understand. Marco was sitting back on the hay bales, frowning as he concentrated on the words. Tobias was listening with that hawk intensity, but he had a small, sad smile on his face, and I remembered that he'd recognized what 451º meant. He must have read the book before.

"'Oh. Of course.'" Cassie kept reading. "'It's fine work. Monday burn Millay, Wednesday Whitman, Friday Faulkner, burn 'em to ashes, then burn the ashes. That's our official slogan.'" She looked up.

"That's it?" asked Jake. She nodded.

>I don't understand,> said Ax, puzzled. >What is this book?>

"It's a fictional story about a society in which owning books is illegal and dangerous,"Cassie explained. "Books are burned to keep the people who might read them from being smarter than anyone else. So everyone is equal."

"So, what? The Yeerks are going to start burning books now, is that it?" asked Marco.

"I don't know," said Cassie, shaking her head. "I guess we'd better keep reading." She flipped through to the next page. "'You weren't there, you didn't see,' he said. 'There must be something in books, things we can't imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don't stay for nothing.'"

Somberly, she turned to the final page and read. "'Jesus God,' said Montag. 'Every hour so many damn things in the sky! How in hell did those bombers get up there every single second of our lives! Why doesn't someone want to talk about it! We've started and won two atomic wars since 1990! Is it because we're having so much fun at home we've forgotten the world? Is it because we're so rich and the rest of the world's so poor and we just don't care if they are? I've heard rumors; the world is starving, but we're so well fed. Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we're hated so much? I've heard the rumors about hate, too, once in a long while, over the years. Do you know why? I don't, that's sure! Maybe the books can get us half out of the cave. They just might stop us from making the same damn insane mistakes!'" Cassie stopped and closed the book.

Jake frowned and sat down. "Okay," he said, "so...what?"

I shook my head, just as clueless as he was. It was Tobias who spoke up. "It means the Yeerks have discovered the power books can have."

Cassie nodded. "Books make you think. They make you question things. And they give you hope and strength to endure."

Marco raised his eyebrows. "I think English teachers have been trying to say that since the beginning of time. I never believed them."

"Do you remember John Berryman? Visser Four's host?" Cassie asked, ignoring Marco. How could we forget? John Berryman no longer existed because of us. Cassie continued, without waiting for an answer. "Do you remember how he tormented the Visser constantly by reciting lines from Henry V?"

"That's right," I said, suddenly remembering. "That's why he went to Agincourt to stop Henry from winning the war."

Jake frowned again. "Wait, why don't I remember this? Where was I?"

"You were dead," supplied Marco.

"Oh. Right."

"The point is," said Cassie, "that no matter how much control Visser Four had over John Berryman's body, he couldn't take away the memory of that play. The Yeerks want us to be as unable to resist as possible. They don't want us to think and question and hope."

"But what can they do about it?" asked Marco. "They can't publicly start burning books."

"No," Tobias answered, "but if they control the library, they can at least be in control of the supply of books, and they can find out who the most well-read people are. Who they might have the most trouble with. You can find out a lot about people by what they choose to read."

Cassie was looking down at the piece of paper in her hand again. She flipped it over, and gasped. "There's a date! A date and time. I'm sure that's what this is."

We all crowded around to see. Sure enough, written in small numbers on the back of the paper were a date and time. "That's Tuesday," I said. "At 4 o'clock." I frowned. "But where?"

"The library?" Jake suggested. "It's worth a try anyway. I don't think we should all go, though. At least not in human form. Cassie, you're probably the least likely to look out of place in the library."

"Hey," said Marco. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Marco, you're supposed to be dead, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

"Not that you ever went to the library when you were alive," I added.

"And you go there all the time, I'm sure," he retorted.

"So," said Jake loudly. "Cassie will go as human, and the rest of us will tag along as flies."

"Which I'm sure the library staff will appreciate immensely," Marco commented.

"Tuesday at 4 o'clock," said Jake. "We'll figure out what's going on."

A/N Well, that was great fun. See you next time—which will hopefully be much sooner. But don't take my word for it. :-) Oh yeah, and I do not own Animorphs or Fahrenheit 451. They belong to K.A. Applegate and Ray Bradbury, respectively.