The Proposal
Page 8
Everything's fine here,» Rachel reported. «Just waiting. Wish I could morph grizzly or elephant or something with more firepower than a wolf. But I guess there's no room.»
I finished demorphing, then took a few breaths to get my strength back. I focused on Euclid.
Euclid. The most annoying dog the world had ever seen. I hated that dog. And now my dad wanted him to move in with us?
I mean, forget the misery of my mom's disappearance. Forget the fact that every day during fifth period I would have to do algebra for my stepmother. Having to live with that mangy mongrel would drive any kid insane.
I felt the changes begin.
My hands. Transforming themselves into
134 paws. Little white paws with long, dull claws. Long claws that clacked and scratched against the kitchen floor when the obnoxious mutt raced around the dinner table, yapping at the top of his lungs until someone finally dropped him some scraps.
My legs grew shorter, skinnier. My thick, human leg muscles began to shrink, tightening into taut, sinewy springs. Muscles powerful enough to propel the cursed beast three feet - four feet - in the air. High enough to jump on my lap and fatally ruin my concentration during key points of video games.
I felt fur growing along my back. Thick, curly white fur that made my nose itch. That stuck to my favorite black jeans.
The transformation was nearly complete. I was a five-foot-long poodle. With a human boy's head.
Not for long.
My head began to grow. Larger. Wider. My nose stretched out in front of me. My eyes grew dim, as if I'd just put on a pair of sunglasses. My ears shrank and slid up the side of my head.
My mouth, too big to be a poodle's mouth. Uh-oh. Long white muzzle, blunt, not delicate like the poodle's.
Uh-oh. Definite uh-oh.
135 «Marco, your morph is going weird!» Cassie yelled.
What was happening? What was I?
I held up one paw to look at it. Moved and slammed against a wall. I was hot, I knew that much. My fur was a mix of kinky and straight. The straight fur was more clear, more transparent than truly white.
Polar bear? I was half-poodle, half-polar bear?
I was a poo-bear?
«Aaahhhh!»
And then, the instincts kicked in. The polar bear's cold-blooded predatory intensity joined to the Daffy-Duck-on-espresso lunacy of the poodle.
I could smell prey. I saw a pair of wolves, eyes glittering. Not prey. Predators. Nope, I wasn't going after them. I wanted something more like a seal. Yeah. Or else a mouse.
Then, I heard the sounds. Movement. Something living. Just on the other side of the wall.
I rose on my hind legs. Then, I dropped down again and charged.
«Marco,» Rachel cried. «What are you do-ing?»
WHAM! Eight hundred pounds of hyperactive poodle smashed through the Sheetrock wall. Prey! Possibly a seal!
136 Tennant jerked around.
"Aaahhhh!"
I crossed the fifteen feet between us in seconds. Tennant dove out of the way just before my hubcap-size front paws smashed his chair into pieces.
«Jake, Marco's lost it!» Cassie warned.
«What do you mean he's -» Jake demanded from the control room.
«She means he blew another morph, and now he's a poodle the size of a Volkswagen,» Rachel said.
My prey dashed. Ran for the door. Big mistake. Running just made me excited. Running was like an advertisement: Yes, I am the prey, please come and eat me.
Four massive steps and I was on him. I shoved him with my huge paws. He flew through the air and hit the wall.
The seal was cornered. Down.
Time for lunch.
137 EH
OOOO!" Tennant wailed, cowering like a trapped rat. I felt no pity for him. I didn't know about pity. I was the poo-bear.
«Marco, get a grip!» Cassie screamed. «You're going to kill him.»
«Why not?» I said. «He's a Yeerk. He's a seal-Yeerk.»
Everything was black-and-white in this morph. Simple. Kill the prey. Kill the enemy. Nothing else mattered.
And yet, some small part of my mind said, «Seal-Yeerk? Poo-bear? Huh?»
Tennant curled into a little ball in the corner. He yelled, "Help me! Help me!"
138 But the crew didn't seem terribly interested in helping him. Mostly they were running.
«You're lost in the morph, Marco,» Cassie said calmly. «Get a handle on it. You had another mixed-morph. Now get control. Getcontrol.»
«Everybody, stay where you are,» Jake said.
«Don't worry,» Rachel said. «l am not going anywhere near that thing. If I was in grizzly morph, sure, but . . .»
«l am ready for the broadcast, Prince Jake,» Ax said calmly, as though nothing unusual were happening.
«Come on, Marco,» Cassie encouraged. «lt's going to be okay. Remember the mission?»
The mission?
I poked Tennant's huddled body with my paw. Watched him shrink and shudder.
«What's going on, Marco?» Cassie said soothingly. «Talk to me. We're your friends. Talk to us, talk to me and -»
«Talk my butt,» Jake snapped. «Marco. Cope. Now. That's an order.»
It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head.
It was like waking up from an intense dream. Fast. Painful. Slowly my mind grasped control.
«Jake, he's going through some bad stuff in his life,» Cassie said. «He's stressed. His dad is -»
139 «Cassie, you know I love you and admire you, but be quiet,» Jake said. «You listen to me, Marco. We have zero time for your self-pity. I don't care what your problems are. You deal with this, right now.»
I started to shrink.
My body deflated like a balloon with a pin-hole.
My head, shrinking. Becoming a normal poodle head.
«That's not exactly enlightened behavior, Jake,» Cassie shot back, obviously angry. «lf he's having stress -»
«Cassie, he's not you, he's not Rachel, he's not even me. He's Marco,» Jake said. «What he needs is to pull his head out of his rear end and remember what he always says.»
What I always say? What was he talking about?
Jake said, «Life is either tragedy or comedy. Usually it's your choice. You can whine or you can laugh.»
I laughed. Laughed in recognition. Oh, yeah. I do say that.
I was completely poodle.
"What the-?" Tennant said, scrambling to his feet.
«Good job, Marco,» Cassie said.
Or was it?
140 I sprinted away from Tennant.
"Andalite," Tennant hissed. He no longer carried the fear scent. He smelled of pure hatred. "You've made a terrible mistake. You should have killed me when you had the chance. I will not show you such mercy."
«Ready, Ax,» Jake said.
Tennant reached down and grasped an electrical cord that was lying on the floor. He yanked one end of it out of the wall, the other from the stage light it was attached to.
CRAAACK!
Tennant's makeshift whip could slice me in half.
«0h, man,» I whimpered.
«Get back on stage, Marco,» Jake said. «We're ready to roll.»
«Just let them get the picture, Marco,» Rachel said. «Then we'll get you out of there.»
I cowered behind the remains of Tennant's chair.
CRAAACK!
He missed me by inches.
"This is going to be so therapeutic," Tennant cackled.
«Stay right where you are, Marco,» Jake said. «Draw him into camera range.»
«The meeting is over,» Tobias called. «They're leaving the office!»
141 CRAAACK!
The cord slapped across my back! Like being hit with a smoldering-hot stick!
"Yipe!" I cried pathetically.
«The crew and the network people are coming down the hallway,» Tobias said. «They'll be there in ten seconds.»
«Hang on, Marco,» Cassie said.
«Do I have a choice?»
«Ready, Ax?»
«Yes, Prince Jake.»
William Roger Tennant dropped the whip, reached down, and grabbed me by the neck. Lifted me in the air. Turned around to face the cameras. Wrapped his hand around my throat and held me up in front of his face.
He began to squeeze. I whined and struggled.
"Come now, Andalite," Tennant said, his eyes raving. "You aren't going to die on me that easily, are you?"
«And ... we are live!» Ax announced. «Heeeeeere's Marco!»
Suddenly the entire stage was bathed in blinding light.
Choking! My head felt like it was going to explode. My blurry vision grew more hazy. My body was going limp.
I was too weak to struggle.
"Die, Andalite! Die!" Tennant screamed,
142 oblivious to the lights and the hum of the cameras.
"What the hell is going on here?" someone shouted. "My God, Tennant! What are you doing?"
"Get away from me!" he yelled. "I will kill you all!"
"What are these dogs doing here?"
"Andalites," a crew member hissed.
"Die, you filthy mutt, die!" Tennant screamed.
"What do you mean, we're on the air? Cut the feed, for crying out loud! Cut the feed!"
"I'll squeeze your guts out through your ears!"
"He's crazy!"
A mass of bodies surrounded me. Hands reached for Tennant. Subdued him. Pried his fingers from my throat. I dropped to the floor.
«Cassie! Rachel! That's enough, get Marco outta there!»
«We're already on it, fearless leader,» Rachel said.
"Grrrrrrrr..."
Rachel and Cassie growled. Snarled. Slunk toward the mass of men and women.
"Holy-" someone shouted. "Those aren't dogs. They're wolves, man! They're wolves!"
"What is going on here? What kind of production is this?" a man thundered.
144 The UPN guy?
"This is madness. You want to put this lunatic on the air? Try Fox, I'm not interested."
"It's not... it's ... you don't. . ." Tennant stuttered. "It's all just a misunderstanding!"
I was gasping, forgotten on the floor. I wondered if this would be a bad time to mention my idea for a new Star Trek.
«Boys and girls,» Jake said, «l believe our work here is done.»
143
"T
X am very pleased with the atmospheric conditions we are experiencing today. The lack of clouds have allowed the sun to show through, thus making electrical lighting unnecessary. Uh-NESS-a-sarry. Uh-NESS-ussery. Also, the lack of precipitation has kept my artificial skin from becoming uncomfortably damp, which -"
"Ax?" I interrupted.
"Yes, Marco?"
"Stop that. Please."
"Come on, Marco," Tobias said. "He's just practicing his small talk. We spent hours on it last night."
"Thank you again, Marco," Ax said, "for invit-
145 ing me to this primitive yet interesting ceremony."
"My pleasure, Ax-man. Do not go near the buffet table."
"How do you define 'near'?"
"Ax, I'm telling you: No food."
"It really was a lovely wedding," Cassie said.
"Yeah," I agreed. "But I can't believe Rachel cried."
"Hey," Rachel shot back. "Lots of people cry at weddings."
"Yeah, I just didn't know you had actual tear ducts, Rachel."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Marco," she replied. Her tone seemed almost nice.
Rachel? Nice? To me?
"It's the tux, isn't it?" I said. "That's why you're being nice to me. The tux gives me a whole new look. Very Sean Connery. Very Pierce Brosnan."
"Don't," Tobias warned.
"I have no choice," I said. "I have to say it: Bond. James Bond."
It was two weeks after our battle with William Roger Tennant. They had been two very busy weeks. And for once, the busyness had nothing to do with Yeerks or alien battles of any kind.
146 Thanks to Ax, William Roger Tennant's freak-out was cut into a local TV broadcast. Naturally, the news networks ran with the video. CNN ran it roughly four thousand times.
No one had seen Tennant since.
After the William Roger Tennant incident, I spent a couple of days thinking about what my dad had said. About moving on with our lives. Making a new start. About our being a team.
I'd also thought about what Cassie had said, about having to deal with what "is," things as they are, and not how I wished they were.
And I remembered Jake's immortal words of comfort. "I don't care what your problems are. You deal with this, right now."
But mostly, I remembered what I've always believed. What my mom taught me. That while some things are just plain awful, most things in life can be seen either as tragic or comic. And it's your choice. Is life a big, long, tiresome slog from sadness to regret to guilt to resentment to self-pity? Or is life weird, outrageous, bizarre, ironic, and just stupid?
Gotta go with stupid.
It's not the easy way out. Self-pity is the easiest thing in the world. Finding the humor, the irony, the slight justification for a skewed, skeptical optimism, that's tough.
Anyway.
147 The past was over and done with. My mom, Visser One ... I had to set that aside and think about my dad. And me.
Time to get on with my life.
Good-bye, dream. Hello, Euclid.
So, before the wedding I had a long talk with my dad. I told him the marriage was okay with me.
I was best man. You can fill in your own joke. Rachel filled in several.
The day after the wedding we started moving Nora in. She understood I wasn't going to call her "Mom." I have one mother. That's all I'll ever have. Whether she's alive, or not.
A few days later, it was all done. Nora was with us now. The dog, too. I didn't mind Nora. I could see where maybe we'd get along okay.
I still hated that dog.
I was coming home from school when I heard the phone ring. It rings more often now with Nora around because she gets calls from parents asking why their kids are flunking math.
I decided not to answer. Let the machine get it.
And then, I heard her voice.
"Marco, if you're there, pick up."
My mother.
To be continued in ... Visser
148 Don't; miss
"T
They're dead," I said unnecessarily.
"Are you sure?" Rachel said in an oddly small, thin voice.
«They'd have to be. How could they . . .» Tobias's logic trailed off.
«lf you like, I will examine the bodies, Prince Jake.»
"Good idea," I said. "You do that, Ax."
"Ax is the man," Marco mumbled.
His hooves ka-klunking on the painted metal deck, tail blade angled forward, poised for attack, Ax stepped through the narrow doorway.
Cassie went with him. I guess this was a medical situation, to her.
Ax leaned one of the bodies forward gently, respectfully. Cassie looked at what he was showing her and gasped.
The two of them came back.
«They are dead humans,» Ax stated. «They
149 have been preserved. Stuffed with a substance I cannot identify without further, more detailed examination, and sewn up the back with a stringy vegetative materials
"I am so out of here," Marco said. "Jake, we have to go. Now."
"Marco? Shut up." Rachel said, but more like she was trying to quiet her own fears.
"Mummies? Like, what? Like Egyptian mummies?" I asked, feeling stupid.
"Sewn up the back," Marco muttered. "Who cares what style? Dead is dead."
"The bodies are in remarkable condition," Cassie said, sounding like she was talking from some other place, not connected to her own body.
«l am unable to identify the culture or people responsible for this, Prince Jake. This is so irrational and strange that
I assume it must involve humans.»
Two dozen Japanese pilots gazed sightlessly at a briefing map. Ready for the attack. Where? Pearl Harbor? Midway? Some forgotten battle?
They'd been the enemy then. Didn't look or feel like the enemy now.
"Let's get out of here. Back out on deck."
I felt marginally better outside.
SCREEEEECCCHHH!
Instinctively, I ducked.
150 A seagull! The bird swooped only inches above our heads and landed on the metal railing bordering the deck.
"Look at the eyes on that thing!"
The creature I thought was a seagull was not a normal seagull.
Its eyes were enormous. They covered the entire sides of its head and touched over its beak. And unlike a normal seagull's eyes, this bird's eyes were bright blue.
«Eyes adapted to a perpetually dim environment? » Tobias guessed.
As if in response the bird squawked, spread its wings, and took off.
"Are we certain the Sea Blade came through this Museum of Lunacy?" Marco said. "Cause I, for one, am all for bailing."
I frowned. "No, we're not sure. But we have to assume it did. And our mission's still the same."
"Destroy the Sea Blade before Visser Three finds the Pemalite ship," Rachel said.
"And avenge Hahn's death," Cassie added softly.
"Let's go airborne," I said. "It's probably safer and we can cover more ground. Tobias, stay hawk. Everyone else, go owl."
Owl. A morph I hoped would allow us to see more clearly in the dim light.
To explore silently.
151 To defend ourselves if we had to against mutant seagulls and whatever other odd creatures we might find.
Whatever other live odd creatures.
A few minutes and we were off again. We followed the river farther into this macabre underwater world.
Hundreds of ships for countless square miles!
German U-boats. A 1930s vintage tramp steamer. Pieces of junked motorboats. A Polynesian raft.
Rows of periscopes. Broken hulls. Propellers. Ships' wheels. Rudders and radar equipment. Deck furniture from luxury ocean liners.
And bodies.
Preserved pi lots and passengers. Eighteenth-century European crew and twentieth-century tourists. Whalers. Fishermen.
«lt looks like a collection^ Cassie said. Almost orderly. Deliberates
«Yeah. Mr. Psycho's Nautical Toy Box and Graveyard,» Marco added grimly.