6 - what

Cassie was only prodding her meal disinterestedly, her thoughts elsewhere busy. "Do you know anything more about this friend Mertil borrowed his Iguarnee ship from?"

Dr Glas rolled another wad of spaghetti onto his fork. "No. Frankly, I didn't even know it wasn't an Andalite ship until Marco asked about it. I thought it looked odd – but I know nothing of space ships. What's an Iguarnee?"

"I don't know," Cassie sighed.

"Mertil has always worked and researched in some obscure corner of the universe. I've only been in contact with him through written correspondence before. This is the first time I've met him. But he knows all sorts of aliens – he even cites them in his work. If he has an Iguarnee friend who lent him this ship, I wouldn't be surprised."

"If his friend was an Iguarnee, wouldn't he know more about it? He said he knew nothing of it. He didn't even appear to recognise the word."

"He should," Dr Glas agreed, "if his friend was Iguarnee. Perhaps the Iguarnee aren't in his field. Perhaps it's a colleague's ship." He shrugged. "If you're curious about these Iguarnee, call the Andalite embassy. They ought to know."

Cassie stood up with sudden determination. "I'll do that." She turned to leave.

"Now? You've barely touched your food!" Dr Glas called after her.

Cassie headed up the stairs to the study, to have some privacy. Then she sat herself heavily down on the chair by the computer, picked up the phone, and dialled the number.

An automatic voice met her in the other end. "Welcome to North America's Andalite Embassy. One of our operators is currently morphing human and will assist you in less than two of your minutes. Please hold." The voice changed. "Currently, the embassy is seeking to employ a maker of the food called pepperoni pizza. If you are a maker of pepperoni pizza, please inform the operator."

Cassie rolled her eyes. She could not dismiss a memory of Ax, gulping pizza and marvelling about grease and cheese, while said grease was running down his T-shirt, and said cheese had found its way into his hair.

"Aristh Caroon-Limar-Damili speaking, how might I be of service? Are you by any chance a maker of pistachio ice cream – pardon me, that was last week – pepperoni pizza?"

"I'm Cassie – the Animorph."

The aristh sighed heavily. "Certainly you are. Miss human, we receive on average 324.6 calls a month from people styling themselves Animorphs. I am not fooled. Anything else?"

Cassie sighed. "If I know you Andalites, you already have this call traced, and my voice patterns analysed, so turn your eyes to the screen in front of you and see if my address and name and file ring any bells."

There was a short but very intense silence in the other end. Then… "Pardons, Animorph." He spoke with some less arrogance, with 'Animorph' sounding like a title, somewhere up there with 'Prince'. He quickly went on: "Would you like to speak to the ambassador? He is currently not available, but I can inform him of your call and –"

"No. I just have a few questions."

He sounded dismayed. "Tell me what about, Animorph, and I shall direct you to –"

"Don't worry, aristh. There's no need to disturb the grouchy Princes. You can probably answer my questions yourself. You're trained at the Academy."

At the simple praise, his reply soared with youthful pride. "Then ask, Animorph."

"I'd like to hear about a species called the Iguarnee."

"Why do you ask?"

"There is an Iguarnee ship parked in my yard. An Andalite commandeers it. But he himself knows nothing of these Iguarnee, and I'm curious."

There was a silence in the other end. She waited, summoning patience until Caroon spoke. "The name of this Andalite?"

"Mertil-Calear-Iro."

"And the ship, you said, was Iguarnee. I will ask the right officials to look into the matter and get back to you within a week."

"And what you know of these Iguarnee?"

Beneath the aristh's haughtiness, Cassie was certain she actually caught a hint of regret as he said: "Animorph, I am not at liberty to reveal anything."

"What security protocol don't I pass, aristh?" Cassie asked, very slowly. "For what reason will I be calling the president, and have him call your ambassador, asking why his arisths presume to waste my time? And insult me? I know the ambassador personally. He likes me. I'm certain he'll sort things out in a moment. And he has so many better things to do than to yell at arisths. I imagine he'll be rather upset."

Now, the proud young aristh Caroon turned decidedly nervous. "There's no need to –"

"No, there definitely isn't. Now tell me about the Iguarnee."

A considering silence followed her words. "A moment, I shall consult my database." And a moment passed. "The Iguarnee live on a moon at the border of Andalite territory, and are capable space travellers, but have never been numerous, and are seldom seen. They look somewhat like your chimpanzees. Only… less ugly. More purple. And taller."

"Which border? The one into Kelbrid space?"

"At one end of that border, yes," replied Caroon in a stiff manner, revealing his surprise and annoyance that Cassie had known of the Kelbrid.

"These Iguarnee. Are they peaceful?"

"Yes. They are scientists, very long-lived."

"So they are on very good terms with Andalites?"

"I am not at liberty to say." This time, it was clear from his tone that there was no way to argue.

Cassie sighed. She was about to say goodbye, when something nudged at her. Something she had been thinking about – or felt as if she should have been thinking about it. "Aristh, are Andalites able to block incoming thought-speech?"

"I've heard of techniques…" murmured Caroon, for the first time sounding uncertain – as well as surprised. "Meditation and the like… but… nothing substantial."

"Are you more or less vulnerable to telepathic attack than non-telepaths?"

"Andalites never allow themselves to be vulnerable –" flared the aristh heatedly.

His tone of voice answered Cassie's question better than any analysis of an Andalite Prince's calm word-twisting ever would have: no, Andalites never showed any signs of vulnerability that they had the slightest chance of hiding. Cassie's smile was, however, tired and very brief. "Thank you for your help, aristh. That was all."

"Thank you for your call, Animorph. Have a pleasant day. Goodbye."

She hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, considering. But her head was empty. She would have judged herself too tired to think, if she had not known the reason was something completely different: her mind was drifting back to listen to that tiny flame of longing that remained from touching the tiara.

On an impulse, trying to distract herself, she turned on the computer. She opened the internet. And clicked on the 'history' button, opening the list of previously visited sites. For that day, there was only the one page. The same page she had seen Marco look at earlier, in the short moment after the screen saver had disappeared, before he had cleared it away.

It was a forum about dogs, with breed lists, care pointers, lists of shelters for strays. Cassie scrolled down to the bottom of the page. There was a title-less post, made a few days ago, in what appeared to be a randomly picked thread: "I know you hate us. And rightfully, for we deserve it. But once we were friends. And I think I need your help."

The comment was anonymous, and there was no signature. And no meaningful reply – only a sad smilie accompanied by a "jeez I dont know who u r talkin to or what u ave done, but i hope it workz out".

Cassie, having seen all there was to see, closed the window and shut down the computer, returning down to Dr Glas. She ate in silence.

The doctor soon patted her shoulder and told her to stay put, he was going to go and see how Mertil was getting along with the tiara.

Cassie stayed put for about five restless minutes. Then she went to her barn.

From its long abandonment during her delusions, the barn had now regained some life and activity in the form of a few wounded animals, and two brown mares, one steady enough for even Marco to ride safely. Cassie checked dutifully on the animals, her conscience well aware that she had forgotten them that morning – none of them seemed in any dire need. The deer with the healing broken leg was on her cloven hooves this day, the red-tailed hawk lady watched Cassie with its fiercely suspicious gaze, its runny eyes now clearer, and the squirrel was ferreting about its cage as if it had forgotten all about the too-close encounter with an owl it had barely escaped three days ago. She simply made certain every animal had fresh water and a decent meal and left them alone.

Cassie went to her horses, slipped halters over their heads, and led them outside to the paddock. She released them and watched them prance off, tossing their manes and swishing their tails. She climbed out of the paddock through the white wooden fence, and stood leaned against it, her arms folded on top of it. The horses danced, enjoying their freedom, enjoying the now. Cassie tried not to think of the now – or of anything at all.

She felt him approach. She did not turn – she wavered between alarm and hope, and her heart chose the latter. So she remained where she was, how she was, watching the horses – by then, they had settled to graze. Her neck prickled with doubtful anticipation.

His arms slipped almost possessively around her waist, and she released the fence and leaned back into his embrace. His embrace was her haven from the world. So familiar, so cherished. While the air was slightly chilly he was warm, and strong and safe, and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart.

And this was where he would sigh contently, or tighten his arms, or rest his chin on the top of her head, or lean to kiss her, or whisper an endearment – or an interesting suggestion of how to best pass the next couple of hours. This was when he would say that little word, or make that little, in essence meaningless movement, that sigh and adjustment of his body against her own, which he always did, and which made Cassie feel loved.

Only he did not. The emotion in his embrace was gone. And Cassie freed herself enough to look at him, already knowing what she would see.

The tiara glittering across his forehead.


Author's Note:

Ah, the Andalite Embassy. Gotto love 'em.

Ehrm. So, I said I'd say nothing more until the story was done. Well, that means the story is done.

Just kidding. It simply turns out I was wrong. I'm leaving in... four hours. I'll be back for two days in Juli. If you all review and tell me I'm wonderful, I may be nudged into speeding the next chapter up then. Otherwise, I'll be back proper in August.

Until then, please admire my cliffhanger. I know I will... feeling nostalgia for the good old days of Time Matrix Chronicles, when someone took to calling me Cliffhanger Queen. There wasn't a chapter in that story without a cliffie.

And let's hear it, people... what are your theories on what's happened?