At this time, Marco has figured out that Tom is a controller.

John got me to the bus stop. What his friends thought of him suddenly disappearing I didn't know. But since my grasp on reality had taken a severe beating over the last twenty minutes I didn't question it.

The bus driver and a few passengers expressed concern over my appearance and my obvious trance-like state. I tried to assure everyone that I was fine and that I hadn't been robbed, or mugged. I just want to get home and please no, I would not like it if the police were called.

I didn't know what had happened but I sure as hell wasn't going to tell anyone that I was chased by four guys with "dracon beams" and hidden from sight by a guy who waved his hand and told them I wasn't the droid they were looking for.

Right now the biggest thing on my mind was getting to the hotel and getting cleaned up before Dad got there. The Chinese food was kicking in at the most inappropriate time and I didn't think soiling my pants would improve my situation either.

Words and images kept floating around in my head. Yeerk, Andalite, Dracon Beam? And what one guy said about a pool. And if they didn't know who I was then how did John know? I mean, my dad wasn't actually famous and though he had regular readers who frequently e-mailed him, he wasn't exactly Stephen King. The theory about these guys kidnapping me was only based on the idea that they had inside information about me, but if they were connected to Dad's story then it was a pretty big coincidence.

Then there's what John said. John himself was a mystery, but what he said stuck with me the most. Lying to my dad would keep me alive? The last time I had ever lied to him was when I was five. And even then, all I got was a talk about lying and I had to miss an episode of Tiny Toons. Around that time I realized that lying to an investigative journalist was pretty pointless.

I hope you're a good liar. Your life may depend on it. John's words echoed in my head. Every time the bus stopped and the doors opened I had to fight the urge to jump. Each time I expected those men to board the bus and drag me off it, kicking and screaming, with no one else attempting to stop them. At the very least I was surprised not to see the van following me.

At the hotel I dodged the same barrage of concerned stares and offers of assistance. Don't get me wrong. I think it's great when total strangers will see a kid looking half injured and actually try to help him. Unlike the handful of times I've had my butt kicked by bullies while adults just passed by and said nothing, at least here these people were genuinely concerned about my safety. But I had to politely brush them off, because for all I knew, they were in on the plan.

Whoever these "Yeerks" were, John didn't make them seem like Latter Day Saints.

I'm sounding like a paranoid schizophrenic now, I thought on the elevator. The trembling came back and I began to feel nauseas. Like my stomach wasn't in enough knots right now.

Thankfully my key worked on the first try, because I barely made it into the bathroom. After I showered and changed into some clean clothes, I tossed the torn pants and shirt into the cleaning lady's cart at the end of the hall. Then I spent the next half hour trying to scrub the dirt and the mud from my shoes.

Dad came in wearing the same jacket and coat. He didn't look like he had been hurt, or like he had even been in any kind of danger. I sat down on the bed, clutching my stomach. The nausea I felt and the sweat collecting on my face certainly wasn't fake.

"Hey, bud. Did you have a good time at the mall?" Off my look, he frowned. "Did you have a good time at the mall?"

I couldn't bring myself to lie like John suggested. So I decided to go with as much of the truth as I was able.

"No," I said. "I've been sick since I left there."

Dad came over and put his hand on my forehead and pulling it back.

"Ouch," he said, shaking his hand. "What did you eat?"

"It was lo mein. But I think it might have been the bus ride too." I didn't explain much more, knowing that Dad would think I was suffering from motion sickness. Cars, planes and boats were all right, but busses always had that effect on me when I was younger.

"Why don't you try to rest," Dad said, taking his jacket and cap off. "I'll get you some ginger ale."

I nodded and got ready for bed. As I lay there, drifting off to sleep I began to consider the possibility that I just dreamed the whole thing. I was so bored that I needed something big to happen and I needed it o connect to what Dad was doing. That explained why John suddenly knew everything and was able to make those guys go away, didn't it? Didn't it?

The following day, Jake and Cassie track down a lizard in the barn of the Clinic.

"Are you feeling better?" Dad asked, the next morning.

"Much better," I said. We were in hotel's dining room eating muffins and drinking juice from the continental breakfast. That morning I decided that what happened last night wasn't real.

I thought about all the questions Dad would ask that I couldn't answer. Aside from the fact that what I would have told him was basically the plot out of a science fiction novel, he would spot some glaring plot holes. Like what were these guys doing at the construction site to begin with. They didn't have any equipment out except for the van and the guns and it was just the four of them as far as I could tell. Who was John and what was this "power" he had to send an apparition of me leading the others away?

And what would Dad think of a strange adult telling some kid to lie to his father? That would send red flags up to any parent, much less any kid who had been well schooled in the lessons of stranger danger. As is, the only reason I didn't think of it then was because John-or in my imagination at least-had saved my life.

"So, do you feel up to a trip to the Gardens?" Dad asked, breaking my line of thought.

"I think so," I answered. "Did you get everything you needed from the interview?"

A strange grin broke Dad's face. It was a look I had never seen before and I didn't like what it made me feel.

"Oh yes," he said. "I got exactly what I needed."

There was something about that tone. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. All that happened to me yesterday was a bad case of food poisoning combined. Dad just got a major lead on a huge story and he was entitled to gloat like anyone.

Still, that feeling came back. When I got up and wiped the crumbs from the table, I watched as Dad threw our paper plates in the trash. Something nagged at me. I tried to push it out of my mind as we took the bus to The Gardens.

"Are you doing all right?"

I had been zoning out, watching the buildings and the cars go by. I looked up at Dad quizzically.

"How's your stomach?" he asked.

"It's all right," I said, remembering what I'd told him last night. "I think it was the food that made me sick the most."

"Maybe I should give the health board a call," Dad suggested. "Or I could write a really nasty review of their restaurant."

Off his tone, I knew Dad was joking. But I also knew his talent for getting people to slip up by getting them to laugh and throwing them off their guard. Even though I swore I'd forget about it, John's words rang clear in my head again. I snorted and smiled but I didn't say anything else.

The Gardens was big, loud and full of people. It was a Sunday afternoon and the church crowd was out, which probably didn't mean as much in a city this big. But from experience in my small New England town, things generally got busier once the worshippers got out of church.

Dad and I spent some time in the amusement park area. After last night we both agreed to save the really intense rides like the roller coaster and the pirate ship for another time. That left the bumper cars, which were fun. But after a while in a park like this, if you're not going on those intense rides that most kids come here for there's hardly any point in being here.

We decided on hot dogs for lunch and sat under a pavilion near the pirate ship ride. Then I looked at Dad and I felt a twinge of guilt.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"For what?" He asked, confused.

"For not doing any of the big stuff," I answered with a shrug. "Those bigger rides, I mean."

Dad shrugged.

"You don't have to apologize for that. This is your day. Besides, I know stuff like that isn't your thing. I figured you'd be more interested in the zoo part, anyhow."

I smiled, weakly.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Still, I guess it's embarrassing though. Flying gets me nervous and the whole bus thing...I just know I can be disappointing sometimes."

"Hey," Dad pointed to fingers to his eyes. "You are not a disappointment to me. Ever. So other kids love roller coasters or riding the bus. You still get to school on time every day and you can handle yourself in a major city by yourself. There are people twice your age that can't leave their parents houses so don't be ashamed because you get a little nervous about flying."

The speech made me feel better. But it also made me feel stupid for being so paranoid earlier. I was about to suggest we check out the zoo.

"Mark!"

Dad and I looked over at a tall, dark haired man approaching the table. He was about Dad's height but he wore light clothes that showed that he wasn't very athletic. Probably drove everywhere and didn't exercise much, but then I wasn't winning any fitness awards either so I couldn't judge.

"Benjamin," Dad said, getting up to meet the guy.

There was a kid with him about my height, with lighter hair. While Dad shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with this guy, the kid smiled at me as if he knew me. It felt a little awkward, but I didn't want to be rude so I returned the smile. Dad turned to me.

"Sean, this is Mark. He works for the Herald."

"Good to meet you Sean," Mark said. When he shook my hand, I could feel a stronger grip than I would peg a guy like him for having. Somehow I got the impression that if he wanted to, Mark could crush my hand without thinking twice about it. He turned to the kid beside him. "Sean, this my nephew, Erek."

"Hello," Erek's grip was just as firm. Although he was slightly less lanky than I was, he wasn't much older and a grip like that was a little surprising. "It's nice to meet you Sean."

"Same here," I said.

We didn't say much else. The adults continued to talk as if we weren't there. I went back to the bench and finished my soda before cleaning our area up so a family could take our spot. It wasn't until I turned away from the garbage can that I realized Erek was still looking at me.

"Erek," Benjamin said. "Why don't you and Sean go down to the zoo area? Mark and I have some stuff to talk about."

Dad gave me a reassuring smile. I frowned. I was used to Dad having to take off at short notice whenever he got a news lead. But something about this felt…well, weird. And after last night…

"Go on," he said. "Erek, it was good meeting you. Take care of my boy, will you?"

"I'll guard him with my life, sir," Erek said, in a tone that was either very sincere or very sarcastic, but Dad seemed to buy it. When he turned to me, I wasn't sure what to think. "What kind of animals do you like?"

I looked from Dad, to Benjamin to Erek. The adults had wandered off. That was so unlike Dad not to make sure I knew where I was going before leaving. He didn't quiz me once on where the entrance was, or the security station.

What was going on? I wondered.

"It's okay," Erek said, as if he were reading my thoughts. "Trust me, we need to talk."

The way Erek said it made me feel like I didn't have a choice one way or the other. But he also wasn't grabbing my arm or trying to drag me anywhere.

"All right," I said.

"Can we stop at the bathroom, first?" Erek asked.

He needed my permission? I just shrugged and said sure.

I didn't really have to go right then, but Erek insisted I come in with him.

"There's something I have to show you." He added.

Wow, things had gone zero to creepy in a matter of seconds. I stood there, staring at him, wondering if I should storm off. He must have sensed what was wrong and to his credit, he had the decency to be embarrassed.

"That didn't come out right."

"You think?" I responded. "Look, what's going on here? Your dad just comes out of-"

"That's not my dad." Erek said. "Benjamin is playing the part of my uncle. It's a long story but…do you remember what happened to you last night at the construction site?"

I whipped my head around, trying to see if Dad was nearby. Then I glared at Erek.

"I don't want him to find out about that," I said in a low voice.

"And we don't either," Erek insisted. He glanced back at the bathroom and looked at me with a shrug. "I didn't have to go that badly after all. What animals did you say you liked again?"

We left the amusement park area of The Gardens and entered a walkway that lead into an artificial jungle. Railings separated us from a glass wall, containing exhibits of baboons, gorillas and elephants. We stopped at a tree kangaroo exhibit.

"I thought it was a dream," I said, finally. "I wanted it to be."

Erek leaned against the railing, watching the tree kangaroo climb. A second one was on the ground munching on something.

"Do you remember touching something?" He asked. "You might have felt something, like an electrical shock."

I looked at him.

"How did you know about that?" I asked, keeping my voice to a whisper. "And for the record, this not an impressed tone of voice. I'm as wierded out now as when you asked to" – I put up two hands to make air quotes- "show me something."

Erek sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Even we make mistakes sometimes. But I didn't know of a more subtle way to approach you and you've all ready had a bit of a shock yesterday."

As much as it annoyed me, at least Erek was apologizing. I decided to start from the beginning.

"Okay, so, what was going on at the construction site."

Erek was quiet, thoughtful for a while. It was good to see that he had learned from his mistake and was trying to find a better way of explaining things.

"Do you believe in life on other planets?" He asked.

"I guess so," I answered. "I'm not much of a fan of science fiction or anything, but I like to think there is other life out there. The universe is just too big for there to be one planet with life on it, you know."

Erek nodded. "Well what you have to know is that you're right. There is life out there. Some of it is as old as the universe itself and others like humans have just barely begun. Unfortunately, some of that life wants to destroy other life."

"What, like in Independence Day?"

"That was a good movie," Erek said, with a laugh. "I like Will Smith. But no, it's unfortunately not so direct. The real invaders are all around you, hiding in plain sight."

"Hiding how?"

"They're called Yeerks. In their natural form they're just helpless slugs that swim around in a pool, absorbing Kandrona rays. They have to do this every three days or they'll die."

"We're being invaded by slugs?" I said, in disbelief, though I remembered John saying something about Yeerks. "Well let me get the salt out and we'll have this invasion taken care of in a pinch."

Erek chuckled patiently, but he kept going.

"Again, it's not quite that simple. In their natural forms the Yeerks are helpless, but they don't remain helpless for long. They infest a host by entering through the ear canal and wrapping themselves around the brain, taking complete control of the body. They read the host's thoughts, move around for him, everything. And they've been doing this for nearly half a century."

"Okay…" I wasn't sure if I was supposed to add anything. What Erek was telling me made the events of yesterday seem explainable in comparison.

"They're passive invaders. Once they find a planet they like, with a species that they can use, they try to take it as quickly and as quietly as possible to avoid attention from their enemies."

"And who would they be?" I asked, almost flippantly.

"The Andalites."

There was another buzzword again.

"And who are the Andalites?" I asked, in the same tone.

"The enemies of the Yeerks," Erek said. From his tone it was clear that he knew I thought he was nuts. And to tell you the truth, I was happier believing he was nuts than the alternatives.

The less than pleasant alternative was that this guy John was some weird pervert, who had gotten me high on hallucinatory drugs and made up some story to see how I'd react. Erek was in on it and all of this was tied to the story my Dad had going, which was also connected to construction. The even less pleasant alternative was that Erek was telling the truth.

"Your dad is one of them."

I turned to face him. "What was that?"

Erek faced me and said, "Your dad was infested yesterday. All of that construction equipment and materials that were going missing were being appropriated by the Yeerks to build their underground pools. When your dad was getting too close to the truth, they contacted him and infested him when he arrived in town."

He didn't even try to duck as I swung. I've never hit another person before. Even when they made me angry, I didn't even try to swing because for the most part, I knew I'd have my butt handed to me on a silver platter. But this time, I didn't care.

You want to play mind games with me, fine, I'll deal with it. But you leave my Dad- OUCH!

Like I said, I never hit a person before. But tripped once and drove my fist into a brick wall to catch my balance. My hand throbbed for weeks after that and I've never forgotten what it felt like. When my fist connected with Erek's face, the memory came rushing to the surface, along with some choice words I never would have used around Dad.

"What was that?" I shouted, burying my hand in my arm to try to ease the throbbing.

Erek didn't say anything. Instead, his skin, his clothes, his whole body began to flicker like a bad screen projection. For a brief second his entire body disappeared and in the place of the boy I met just a few minutes ago, stood a robotic…dog I guess.

It stood upright on hind legs similar to a dog's. Its arms ended in a strange paw-like hand, sort of like a cross between Chewbacca and C-3PO. The skin-if that's what robots have-looked smooth and shiny, but it seemed to have a rough texture in parts. It's –his?- head ended in a muzzle and had pointed ears like a German shepherd.

"What are you?" I asked, trying to bite back more vicious cussing.

"I'm a Chee," The robot dog said in Erek's voice. Erek's image appeared once more. "We can create holographic projections, which is how Chee-Orous, or John as you know him, was able to confuse the Controllers."

I wanted to run. I wanted to scream out and most of all, I wanted this throbbing in my hand to go away. Erek gave me a sympathetic look.

"If you'll come with me," he said. "I know of away to make the swelling go away. I'm sorry for baiting you like that, but I figured if I made you angry you would be more open to my explanation."

"Fair enough," I said, sarcastically. But I followed him as he suggested because with the pain in my hand I was fairly certain I wasn't dreaming.