I thought it might be interesting to make a photocopy of his butt. Send it to his boss. Tack a second copy up on the break room bulletin board.
So I did.
While the others trashed the stock and ripped the insides out of expensive laser jet machines or whatever. Oh, yeah. Ax did something not nice to the rent-by-the-hour computers.
Then, it was on to the big law firm with three names. All three names were head honchos on the Yeerk payroll.
File cabinets do not stay intact when thrown from a tenth-floor window. Neither do water coolers.
Next, we paid a little visit to the chambers of Judge Forensik, in the private, secure area of the courthouse where judges have their offices. I remembered the judge from when we’d paid a visit to the Yeerk pool during the instant oatmeal episode.
Judge Sally Forensik was, on most occasions, a distinguished-looking older woman. On this particular afternoon, bawling and crawling under her big maple desk, black robes hiked around her knees, she didn’t look terribly deserving of respect.
Just before we got out, Ax sliced the judge’s massive desk into several smaller desks, one for each of her underpaid, overworked staff. Now that was an act of true justice.
We avoided The Gap and its concealed entrance to the Yeerk pool. Way too crowded with civilians, Tobias pointed out. Secretly, I was pleased. I wasn’t thrilled about messing up good clothes.
We avoided the police station. Too many guns. Even I knew it would be too easy to get killed. And none of us wanted the accidental death of a real, hardworking human cop on our hands. It had been hard enough to avoid hurting the guards at the courthouse.
All day we raided and rampaged and put the fear into human-Controllers. Sustained minimal injuries. Made Visser Three look bad. Hoped the inspector was taking note. Hoped he was getting the message: Visser Three had accomplished nothing on Earth. We could hit him anywhere, any time.
After the raid on Phil’s Hardware, we split up. Left Controller Phil bound head to toe in two rolls of silver duct tape. Planned to meet in a half hour at the highly hyped Community Center the Yeerks had recently opened.
The Community Center was the scene of one of our most dangerous missions — find and destroy the Anti-Morphing Ray. A mission Tobias would never — could never — forget. One he’d never purge from his memory, from the hawk or human or mysteriously Andalite part of him.
During that mission Tobias had been a voluntary POW. An act of supreme sacrifice and bravery. The experience had almost destroyed him. It had scared me to death.
I had wanted more than anything to destroy his torturer. I’d spared her life once, at Tobias’s request.
I guess Tobias is a better person than me.
Anyway, bad, haunting memories didn’t mean we could stay away from this center of Yeerk activity. Especially now. I figured we’d find a whole bunch of high-ranking Controllers gathering there to panic and plan. Maybe even the visser himself. No doubt he’d been contacted by now, told about the total chaos the Andalite bandits were causing.
It was a dangerous place to attack — so many Controllers in a concentrated area. And here they would have Hork-Bajir shock troops. A very different proposition from scaring off civilians and roughing up human-Controllers. I wasn’t sure exactly what we’d do once we got there.
But I knew I’d figure out something. I was Rachel! Hero warrior and interim king!
Tobias flew ahead to do what reconnaissance he could.
Marco took off with Ax, in human morph, right behind him.
Cassie and I walked a few blocks uptown. Once we were sure we weren’t being followed, we’d morph to birds in a filthy but very private alley we’d spotted earlier.
There was a bounce in my step. I felt like howling and laughing and leaping up onto a signpost and twirling in midair! Like Gene Kelly in that old movie Singing in the Rain.
There was chaos in the streets!
Maybe not chaos but there was definitely confusion. At least there was evidence of something going on.
Lots of police cars, just kind of cruising along.
Shopkeepers shutting down before usual closing time.
Clusters of people talking hurriedly, glancing over their shoulders nervously. Anticipating the next bizarro attack.
“Boo!”
The two men in suits flinched as Cassie and I passed.
“Jeez, Rachel, could you not call attention to us, please,” Cassie muttered. “We all split up for a reason.”
We passed a home electronics store. You know, stereos, beepers, cell phones, TVs.
One of the TVs in the window was tuned to the local news station. Well, to the temporary live-feed the station had hooked up after this morning’s raid.
“Look! She’s talking about us!” I grabbed Cassie’s arm and pulled her closer to the window. We couldn’t hear the announcer’s voice, but the shots of the wrecked TV studio were clear enough.
“C’mon, Rachel,” Cassie said. “We can watch a report later. Right now, we’ve got to move.”
I shrugged off Cassie’s hand. “Just wait a minute, okay? I want to see if they show us tearing up the place!”
They did. Just a few grainy flashes as cameras tumbled and then nothing as cameras broke.
And then they showed something else. Across the bottom of the screen, in medium, white letters. The words:
One man dead in attack on WKVT. Visiting his grandson from Kansas, heart disease patient succumbs.
My own heart stopped. No. No.
Oh, God. No.
We met up in part of the dense wood surrounding the Community Center and its playground and picnic areas. Still in our traveling bird morphs, mostly for security. Scattered on perches within several yards of one another.
I growled.
Marco narrowed his osprey eyes and looked from me to Cassie.
Ax, as northern harrier, was barely visible from my perch.
Tobias …
Silence.
I was glad Cassie spoke to him. I wasn’t sure I could. I felt — uncomfortable.
He’d seen potential trouble. He’d told me to get us out of the studio. I’d said no. I’d been having too good a time.
He didn’t comment on the old man. He didn’t even look at me. Or say he was sorry — for me.
And I was the leader! It was my place to keep us doing a good job. My duty.
No one could ever blame me for not doing my duty.
He turned his intense h
awk glare on me. For a moment.
Tobias fluttered and resettled his wings.
I cried.
Another weird silence. Did Jake have to deal with these weird silences?
More silence. At least no one turned or flew away.
I looked around my wary group of feathered warriors. Imagined a hugely grinning, glittery eyed, adrenaline-soaked look on my own human face. And said,
“Did I hear you correctly?” Marco, almost totally demorphed, cupped his hand to his ear. “ ’Cause I don’t see anything wrong with our usual battle morphs.”
“He’s got a point, Rachel.” Cassie, now also human, stood next to him on the fragrant, pine-needle-covered ground, still hidden in the woods. “We know our morphs. They’ve been working for us all day. We handle them best.”
“We’re going for mass here, people,” I said, pushing down the defensiveness I knew was creeping into my voice. They were still arguing with me! “Bulk. Spectacle. Going out in style. Besides, we want to send the message that there are a lot of us.”
I knew I was right. I knew it.
So I waited and felt every muscle in my face tighten. Harden. No expression. Give them nothing but determined, fearless leader. Hero. Warrior. King.
No objections.
Not from Marco or Cassie or Ax. Not even from Tobias.
“Then, let’s do it,” I said, finally.
Morphing isn’t pretty. It’s not rational or logical or predictable.
And it’s uncomfortable.
Though the idea is worse than the reality. Skin pinching and withering. Organs smooshing or stretching. Bones scraping together or being hollowed out. Huge, bulky muscles slapped on a narrow skeleton not yet ready for them.
Not exactly fun to think about but once the process gets going, it’s bearable. Especially when you’re not morphing something gross like a fly.
This time, the first thing to change was …
WHUMPPFFH! WHUMPPFFH!
I was down on my two front paws. Each a foot across, round, distributing my weight like snowshoes. Five toes and five thick claws. Good for traction. And for grabbing prey.
My back legs, heavy, stocky, shot out from the expanding round of whitish hair that was my middle.
My shoulders bulged. My butt exploded out. Two hundred. Six hundred. One thousand. Fifteen hundred pounds of blubber and muscle and fur before I reached my full bulk!
I was a fifteen-hundred-pound arctic beast, largest land carnivore — from the shoulders down.
“Yeah, thanks. I hadn’t notifff …”
And then, finally, my head began to shift and reshape. From an almost circle to an almost oblong. Pinkish skin turned black and sprouted the whitish, hollow tubes that are the polar bear’s hairs. Miniature greenhouses, conducting warmth to my heat-absorbing black skin.
My eyes stayed pretty much where they were, facing forward. Sight was about the same. Better than my grizzly morph. Hearing? No big deal.
But smell! Now that was amazing. Smells meant food. And food meant …
Meat. Close by. Only just beyond that concrete-and-brick wall. No problem.
Tobias lumbered forward, each step like a human’s, the heel of each massive paw touching the ground before the toes.
I was stunned. He’d meant that for me! Me.
I didn’t need his advice. His warnings.
I knew this was just another busting-up mission. I knew that!
All day long, at every raid, I’d been in control of myself. Of my morphs. I had! I hadn’t been responsible for that old man’s dying —
I hesitated. But only for a second.
“HHIISSSRRROOOAAARRRWWWW!”
We were in!
Through the smallish back window, glass shattering, chunks of plaster flying. The wooden frame cracking and breaking.
One, two, three, four, five polar bears!
One after the other, hurtling into the room from above, half-falling, half-sliding down the wall, crashing down onto a handful of unsuspecting human-Controllers.
They screamed. Jumped from their seats. Ran for the door. One fainted. Another wet his pants.
Fine. Let them panic. They were going to get what they deserved.
A good butt-kicking.
It was easy. I smacked a raised chair out of a man’s hand.
Marco barreled into a huddle of three Controllers and sent them scattering across the linoleum floor.
Ax and Cassie and Tobias rolled and rumbled and rampaged, bumping into one another’s massive bulky bodies and knocking their heads against the low ceiling as they terrorized the Yeerk-infested humans. Tore the portable video screen off a wall. Threw a podium through a back window.
>
I laughed. At this rate, the attack would soon be over. We’d smash a few more skulls, break a few more pieces of furniture, and get out.
I swung my massive body to face the interior door.
Yeerk shock troops. So what?
We could take them.
My teeth tore at leathery Hork-Bajir flesh. Forty-two weapons in my mouth alone!
With my massive paws I batted and smacked and ripped! At eight feet I stood taller than any of the Controllers in the room. Human or alien.
“HHIISSSRRROOOAAARRRWWW!”
I shoved a human-Controller aside and watched as his head bounced off the edge of a small table. He slid, unconscious, to the floor.
To my right, Cassie smashed the head of one human-Controller against the head of another. Like something out of an old Three Stooges.
To my left, Marco and Tobias wrestled a Hork-Bajir to the ground. Where he stayed.
In front of me, Ax hurled a bleeding Hork-Bajir aside and smacked the pathetic little knife out of the hand of a human-Controller.
We were winning!
We would destroy this room and its Yeerk inhabitants and get away before anyone could call for help.
Before anyone could understand the extraordinary force that had defeated them!
And then the inspector would have to believe that Visser Three was totally harassed and incompetent and …
ZZZZZZZIIIIIIISSSPPP!
Blindingly fast! A blue blur …
The inspector. The Garatron. Had to be. Nothing else moved like that.
A blur and Marco’s head jerked to one side. His knees buckled.
THWAP!
Marco was down, moaning.
Insane! Tobias threw his huge body at the inspector. At the point in space where the inspector had been. Less than a half second earlier.
Thunk!
Tobias was facedown on the floor.
The inspector circled and spun like a whirling dervish around Cassie. Jim Carrey in The Mask. The Tasmanian Devil in a whirlwind around Yosemite Sam. Futiley she slapped the empty air with her paw, over and over again.
The Weakness Page 4