CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

::Marco::

I could wax lyrical about how this is all some super-benevolent, or should I say, super-malevolent creature who's screwing up this whole world. That it is all the Yeerks' fault for existing in the first place. That it is the Andalites' fault for not doing something to stop all this. That it is David's fault for being involved in this crap somehow.

But you know what?

It's my fault we even had to deal with David in the first place. If I hadn't made him feel like a piece of shit when he became an Animorph, he wouldn't have been so hard-pressed to take revenge against us. If I had just been a bit more understanding. Or better still, if I had managed to somehow get the blue box away from him that very first day I saw him and never embroil him in this right from the beginning.

Yeah, I know. Since when did I get so sentimental and self-reflective? No, wait, since when did I ever say things were my fault?

‹They're there,› said Jake, quietly. I banked hard to stall my flight as my sharp raptor gaze – despite nightfall – caught sight of two people coming out of a car at The Sharing.

David's parents.

‹The Yeerks sure are efficient,› I said. ‹C'mon, let's fly a little lower. Onto that lamp over there, and careful about shadows.›

‹Do we happen to have owl morphs?› asked Jake. ‹These eyes are getting bad at night.›

‹Yeah, we do, but I'm guessing now's not the time to be morphing all about.›

‹Well. You've had the fun of being in many morphs. I'm a little tired of this one.›

‹You happen to be the fastest bird on Earth.›

‹And I'm trying to take my mind off the real issues here, so humour me, will you?›

‹No.›

Jake let out a frustrated grunt as we settled on top of the lamppost.

"Is my son drunk or something?" demanded David's father.

"Sir, this is not a nightclub," said one of the Controllers.

"I know, it's The Sharing, ain't it? David comes here all the time, don't you know him?" David's father gave a hearty laugh.

‹What?› I couldn't believe my ears. ‹That rat comes here?›

‹Okay, this is getting more complicated and wasting more time,› said Jake, agitatedly.

"Always telling me how cool it is," continued David's father, "all the details of your activities like the billiards competition last month, oh God, that was superb wasn't it, I laughed when I heard about the stellar performance of that fifteen-year-old..." David's mother cleared her throat, and he stalled, looking stern now. "Well then, I thought I was called here with my wife to pick him up. The escorts tell me this is something serious. What's wrong with him?"

"Not crack, please," begged David's mother. "Not weed either."

Tom came round the lawn to meet them. He shook David's father's hand. "You said your son comes here?"

"Yes, of course," said David's father. "David Jenkins, that's him. He's been coming for some time, always telling us he's hanging out here and having fun. There was some barbecue and games thing for kids the other day, wasn't there?"

I felt my heart chill. The thought of David having been there when we were at the barbecue made me feel nauseous.

Tom let go of his hand. "Yes, there was. Please come inside with us, sir."

"What's this about?" asked David's mother, frightened.

"It's okay. It's... about your son," said Tom, smiling. "We're... very proud of him."

‹What's going on?› whispered Jake. ‹David's in The Sharing?›

"Hey, this is fishy," said David's father. "You know this is about my son but you don't know he comes here? And being proud of him at midnight?"

"No, no, pardon me, I thought you were someone else," said Tom. "Please, do come in."

I ruffled my feathers slightly. ‹Tom has no idea who David Jenkins is, you can totally tell that he's faking it. There's no way David's a Controller if he's doing all this shit.›

‹Okay, you sound like you know something, so spill it,› said Jake, a little roughly.

The Jenkins were already going inside the building.

‹Quick, morph to cockroach, we're going in.›

‹Cockroach? You won't let me morph to owl but you want cockroach?›

‹They're not going to appreciate owls in there, Jake.›

‹Huh. I hate it when you speak sense.›

‹What? I always do!›

It took a while for Jake to picture the cockroach once we were fully demorphed, in Spandex, on some pretty sturdy tree branches in the middle of The Sharing's yard. He ended up shaking the branches quite a bit, and could only count on the fact that it was a windy night that nobody came running out with Dracon beams pointed straight at our faces.

‹This is disgusting,› said Jake, in mid-morph. ‹AHHHH!›

‹Shut up!› I hissed.

‹Well, YOU try shutting up when – oh my God!›

‹You've done fly and you're complaining about roach? At least you're slap and stomp resistant!›

Now can you tell me what you've deduced, Mr. Holmes?› yelled Jake, once we launched off the tree and scuttled out way into the cracks of the house to emerge in the sitting area where the Jenkins, Tom and a few other Controllers were.

‹David comes here often,› I said. ‹But the Controllers don't know who he is.›

‹Well maybe he doesn't go in...›

‹He knows what they do? Describing in such detail? If he doesn't bother going into The Sharing, why tell his parents he's hanging out there?›

Jake hesitated as he reported reverberations; I had to explain to him that those were voices and he needed to train his auditory senses a little to translate those reverberations into words.

‹There really isn't a need to study animal biology anymore,› said Jake. ‹Okay, so what does David being here mean?›

Above us, David's father was getting angry as the doors were bolted. "What's the meaning of this? I could have you up for kidnapping! Where's my son?"

"We'll find him, sir," said Tom, smoothly. "But in the meantime, be our guests."

At once, both Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were bound up in chairs and gagged.

‹Why not infest them?› asked Jake, his voice slightly bitter. ‹Like my parents?›

‹They want to find out who David is. It's clear there's some infiltration of sorts on his part and they need to use his parents to lure him out, I said. And that just means we'll have David there in no time. Ha! No effort on our part.›

‹I can't believe you can infer all of that.›

‹'Course I can. Now c'mon, let's get around this place. I'm guessing the reason why David comes here so often is part of his plan to dissolve the Yeerks on his own.›

‹First things first, let's go to the backroom where Tobias was turned out from. That's the most secretive.›

We scurried over with Jake leading the way. Round the crack on the floor. Under the door and over the carpet.

"...crazy lately. Always so happy. If he thinks that's how to play the game, as the humans say, he can screw himself."

"Magri Two-Four-One never used to care about The Sharing! And then just a few months back, he starts getting involved with such enthusiasm, it is very, very irritating!"

‹Marco?›

‹What? I've lost you!›

‹Weren't you behind me? Over here, next to the lamp.›

‹What's up?› I asked, once I had spotted a roach twitching left and right before –

A door.

‹You see that?› asked Jake.

‹I didn't notice that there was another door in this room before,› I said, eyeing the cracked outline against the wall. ‹Must be invisible to the human eye.›

‹And how does a human get in then? There's no doorknob.›

There was a bit of a vibration. Suddenly, another door that was also previously invisible to us opened right next to that particular door and a man walked out.

"That's a nice shirt you've got there, Magri," said one of the men, sneeringly. "All stiff and clean and untainted from barbecue smoke. Nice try chipping in about helping at every single damned event when all you do is walk in and out of that place."

"I'd watch my back if I were you, gossiping about people all day," replied Magri. "As it is, you know you'd be fried if you tried entering." And he left the room.

"Son of a bitch," hissed the other man.

‹Two invisible doors,› whispered Jake. ‹That one fries unauthorised people?›

‹Which door... hmm... fascinating,› I said, crawling next to the crack of the first door, away from the one Magri had opened. There was something strange about it though. There was a certain... I don't know, feeling, that was emanating from it. Like there was some kind of air-conditioner or radiating engine or... at the same time, the feeling of déja vu was so strong that I nearly stumbled over.

‹Oho.›

‹Oho what?› demanded Jake.

‹That feeling. I know it,› I said, smugly. ‹There's this... sensation. Can you feel it?›

‹It makes me go all tingly. What's that?›

‹That's a Gleet BioFilter behind that door.›

‹A what?›

‹Jake?› I could have grinned if I had a mouth. ‹I think we've found the entrance to the Yeerk pool.›