Didn't matter. Seeing a man's face doesn't tell you much. Not when the most important thing about him is the slug hiding, wrapped around his brain.
I looked around. I saw some of the others. Jake and Cassie were sitting on the outside benches of a Taco Bell across the street. Jake was eating nachos, looking past Cassie at me. He knew I could see him. I did a little roll, you know, rocking side to side to say "hi." He raised a nacho to me, like he was making a toast.
I saw Marco coming out of the convenience store with a drink I could have taken a bath in. He acted like he'd just noticed Ax - in human morph, of course - and ambled over to say hello.
I could not see Rachel. But I knew she was in the Laundromat next door to the lawyer's office. She was my first backup. If I yelled for help she'd head into the Laundromat's bathroom, morph to grizzly bear, and come straight through the wall to save me.
19 I pitied any poor soul who happened to be using the bathroom if Rachel needed it.
Everyone in place. Everything was ready.
Still I hesitated. Not because the situation worried me. Not because I was afraid. It's very comforting, knowing you have an on-call grizzly bear.
Mostly I was just nervous. What was I going to discover? What was I going to learn? What temptations would I have to face?
Strange word, temptations. Strange concept. But that's what worried me most. Temptation.
Okay, Tobias, I told myself, everyone can see you're dawdling. Get it over with,
I swooped low over the roof of the strip mall and dropped swiftly down into the space behind the Dumpster. A lovely place: beer cans, weathered Dorito bags, candy wrappers, cigarette butts.
I landed on damp dirt and scraggly grass. And I began to morph.
It's funny, you know, because when Jake or one of the others becomes human, that's demorphing. But for me, the human is just another animal shape I can take on. Human DNA flows in my veins. My own human DNA, thanks to some neat work by the vastly powerful creature called the Ellimist.
20 On one of our first missions, I was trapped in the hawk body I now thought of as my own. Some months later the Ellimist used me to help some free Hork-Bajir escape. The Ellimist paid me for my services. But as usual with that unfathomable creature, there was a complication.
I had asked him to give me what I wanted most. I had assumed he'd make me human again. Instead, he left me a hawk but gave me back my morphing powers. And by twisting time itself, he brought me face-to-face with my old self and let me acquire my "own" DNA.
I could be my old human self. I could be that human boy for two hours and keep my morphing powers. Or I could remain more than two hours, be my old self forever, and forever lose my morphing ability.
Ax's people, the Andalites, know a little about the race or the individual called "Ellimist." No one knows for sure whether there's just one, or many, or whether it matters.
Anyway, the Andalites tell fairy stories of the Ellimists. They see them as tricksters. Unreliable. Creatures who use their power in unpredictable ways.
Well, the Ellimist had tricked me. He left me hanging, stuck between two impossible choices: become human and stop being an Animorph. Or live the life I live now.
21 All this flashed through my thoughts as I began to focus on the change I wanted to make. I felt the resentment I'd often felt for the Ellimist. But more, I felt my own indecision.
Slowly at first, because my mind was confused, then faster as I focused, my body began to change.
I grew taller. My sharp talons dulled, became pink and chubby toes. My leathery legs sprouted out of their feather sheath and thickened. I heard the bones stretching, becoming more solid.
I felt, as though it were happening far off, my internal organs shift and change. It was a squirmy, almost nauseating feeling. Which wasn't bad, considering the bizarre transformation that was going on in my insides.
My wing bones thickened and became heavy. Fingers began to emerge from the feathers, and at the same time, all over my body the feathers curled and twisted and disappeared.
In their place was pink skin and the minimal clothing I'd managed to incorporate in my morph.
My beak became soft, gradually melting into lips. Teeth appeared in my mouth with a grinding, disturbing sound that resonated in my expanding skull.
My hearing grew confused. My eyesight dimmed. It was as if anything more than a couple
22 of dozen feet away grew irrelevant. My eyes would not naturally focus on faraway things, preferring to see up close.
I felt exposed without my feathers. I felt deaf and blind. It was as if someone had gotten hold of the "brightness" and the "contrast" knobs on an old TV and turned them both down by half, then lowered the volume to a whisper.
Human senses work okay for what humans do. But compared to a hawk, a human is deaf, blind, and helpless.
Worst of all was the leaden pull of gravity. Not that a hawk ignores gravity. It's just not so ... final when you have wings. I felt like someone had remade me in iron and the earth was one big magnet.
We'd left a paper bag with more appropriate clothing behind the Dumpster. I put it on as quickly as I could with unfamiliar fingers. Still, even clumsy fingers are a marvel. If there's one big physical advantage a human has over a hawk, it's the hand.
Yes, human brains are the best around. But the brain would be nothing without that hand.
I checked my clothing. I looked down at my shoes. I ran my tongue around inside my mouth, feeling the barbaric sensation of big, bony teeth.
"Hello," I said, trying out my voice. "Hi. Hi. My name is Tobias."
23
?Hello. My name is Tobias. I ..."
I hesitated. The secretary was looking at me skeptically. Like maybe I'd come in looking to borrow a quarter for the video game at the convenience store.
"My name is Tobias." I told her my last name. Weird. I could barely remember it. It felt like I was using an alias. "I think Mr. DeGroot wanted to talk to me."
She was puzzled. I looked at her nameplate. Ingrid.
"It's pronounced DeGroot. It rhymes with boat."
"Oh."
24 "Let me just check with Mr. DeGroot." She picked up her phone and punched a tine. "Mr. DeGroot, there's a young boy named Tobias ____ out here. He says - Oh. All right."
She hung up the phone.
"I guess he does want to see you," she admitted. "Right through that door."
I checked the door. Fine. The lawyer's office was still sharing a wall with the Laundromat. If I started yelling it would take Rachel about three minutes to morph and come through that wall.
Three minutes is a very long time when you can't even fly.
I used the doorknob. Yes, human hands were very cool. As a bird I'd have been totally defeated by the doorknob.
DeGroot was younger than I'd expected. More in his twenties or thirties than really old. He was wearing a white shirt and red suspenders. His jacket was thrown casually over a chair.
He jumped up and smiled.
"So, you are Tobias."
"Yes. I'm Tobias."
He looked me up and down. I did the same to him.
"I've been hoping I could locate you, Tobias. Have a seat, please. Would you like some water? A soda? Coffee? No, I guess you don't drink coffee at your age. A soda? We have Coke, Diet
25 Coke. And we might have some Dr. Brown's cream soda. I'd have to have Ingrid check."
If he was getting ready to pull a gun and shoot me, or expecting to have Visser Three come storming in the door, he hid it very well.
I relaxed a little. But I was baffled. Water? Coffee? Soda? What was the right answer?
"Urn ... urn ..."
Good grief. You'd think it was Final Jeopardy and the category was Obscure Modern Poets. I was so out of practice being human.
"I'd like a Coke!" I practically yelled.
DeGroot pressed his intercom. "Ingrid, our young friend would like -"
"- a Coke. Yes, I heard him. All the way out her
e."
The lawyer and I stared at each other till the Coke came. I gripped the can self-consciously and pressed it to my beak. Lips.
It had been a long time since I'd tasted sugar. I almost burst out laughing. It was like being Ax in human morph. The taste of sugar was overwhelming! And the coldness. I hadn't felt cold in my mouth in a very long time.
"Tobias, where have you been staying? Your legal guardians both seemed to think the other one had you."
Not a question I wanted to answer. "I take care of myself."
26 DeGroot smiled. "No doubt. But you are underage. You can't 'take care of yourself.' Not legally."
"You can't lock me up," I said. Literally true. One thing about being an Animorph: No home, no building, no school, no jail or prison could hold me.
The lawyer looked pained. "That's not what I am talking about."
"Okay. What are you talking about?"
That seemed to set him back a litt le. It was weird. I had a toughness I'd never had when I was human. As a human I'd been a bully-magnet.
"Here's the thing. I represent your father's estate."
"My father is dead."
"Tobias . . ." He leaned across his desk. "Your father, that father, the man who died? That may not have been your real father."
"What?"
"I have a document. . . it's a strange situation. Very strange. Look, Tobias, I'm going to level with you. My father used to run this office. He's dead, too. He left this document along with the rest of his clients' papers. But on this he wrote me specific instructions. Very specific. On the date of your next birthday your father's last statement was to be read to you, if at all humanly possible."
27 I didn't know what to say. If this was a trap, it was a weird one.
"Are you okay? You don't seem surprised."
No, I didn't, I realized with a start. I had forgotten to make facial expressions. It was something I didn't do as a hawk.
"I am surprised," I said. I twisted my face into what I hoped was an expression of surprise. But it occurred to me that I was facing a new problem: He'd said he'd read the document on my next birthday.
When was my birthday? I couldn't exactly ask him.
"Now there's this new complication. A woman named Aria, who says she is your cousin. Your great-aunt's daughter. Apparently she's only just learned of your situation. She's a very acclaimed nature photographer and she's been on a long-term assignment in Africa. She wants to meet you."
"Why?"
"You're family. She wants to help you."
"Oh."
"She'd like to meet you tomorrow. At the hotel where she's staying. If that's okay. It's the Hyatt downtown. Do you know where that is?"
I could have said, yes, I am familiar with their roof. A peregrine falcon has a nest there in a niche in the radio tower. And the thermals are
28 great, sweeping up the south face of the building, warm air radiating up from the street below and gaining strength from the sunlight reflected off all those windows.
What I did say was, "Yeah, I know where it is."
"She's very concerned for you."
"Uh-huh."
"Do you need money? A place to spend the night?"
"No, I'm fine."
He shrugged doubtfully. "You look healthy enough. Well dressed."
I almost laughed. Rachel had picked out my wardrobe. I looked like a poster boy for Tommy Hilfiger.
"I get by okay. Urn ... so when did you say you're going to read this document?"
"On your birthday."
"Ah. Okay. Bye."
29
My birthday. When was my birthday? This month?
What month were we in?
I left the office and walked to the convenience store. Ax and Marco studiously avoided noticing me. Ax's human morph face was smeared with something I could only hope was chocolate.
I didn't even look at them. No nod, no wink, nothing. If we were being followed the slightest thing would give us away.
The signal for "danger" was me going to the donut display and looking inside. The signal for "okay" was me picking up a Mounds bar and putting it back down.
30 I toyed with the Mounds bar. The guy at the counter said, "You gonna buy that?"
Ax and Marco left. I went to the newspaper rack. I checked the date. The month. Yes, that was my birth month. Today was the twenty-second.
My birthday was ... the twenty-fifth! Yes. That was it. Probably.
I waited till Marco and Ax were clear then I went outside. I blinked at the sun and almost flapped my wings.
My father! My father was not my father? There was some "real" father somewhere? Also dead or gone?
That was a lot of coincidence. And some long-lost cousin showing up within days of when this "father's" will was supposed to be read to me?
Way too much coincidence.
I started walking. I was heading to the nearby park to demorph at a spot we'd chosen in advance.
Halfway there, I heard Jake's thought-speak voice in my head. «l think you're being followed. A big guy in a suit.»
I didn't wonder too much where Jake was. In the sky somewhere. Up flying free.
We had planned for this. I glanced across the street and saw a Speedy Muffler King and an Applebee's. I headed for the Applebee's.
31 Across traffic. Trotting, like I'd suddenly realized I was hungry.
«Yep. He's following you,» Jake reported.
In the front door of Applebee's. Fast, fast toward the men's room before my tail could catch sight of me again.
Then a quick cut left, past the bathroom, into the kitchen.
Waiters and waitresses were running around, pushing, laughing, yelling. The cooks were banging pots. I pushed past the dishwasher, looking for the back door.
"Hey, if you're looking for the bathroom ..." someone called out as I blew past.
Out the back door. I broke into a run. There was a residential street of small homes behind the restaurant. Down a connecting alley, I cut right again, heading once more for the park.
I wasn't too worried. Someone might think he could follow me without being noticed. But I had eyes in the sky watching over me.
«You lost him,» Jake reported.
I trotted on toward the park. They had a covered but open kind of rest room thing. You know, with a roof, only the walls didn't go all the way up?
I found an empty stall and waited.
«Tobias, you're clear,» Cassie said.
I demorphed. Back to hawk. I flew up and out
32 of the stall, up away from humans and back into the blue sky.
Only then did it hit me full force: Someone wanted me. Family. Wanted to take care of me.
Unless, of course, what they really wanted was to learn my secrets.
And then kill me.
33
I should have met with the others. That was the plan. But once I was back in the sky, I just didn't want to.
I didn't want to have to sit down and explain it all to them. I guess, too, I didn't want to have to deal with Cassie's hopefulness and Rachel's concern and Marco's abrasive skepticism.
I didn't want it all analyzed and picked apart. I knew the routine. Cassie would make me go over everything, word by word, gesture by gesture, expression by expression. Cassie has an amazing talent for understanding other people and their motives. She would want to understand all she could about DeGroot.
34 Marco would be different. He would barely listen before he started zeroing in on all the problems and inconsistencies.
Rachel would pace restlessly, angrily, looking for some way to make me safe. Looking for some action to take. Jake would wait and listen calmly, and judge.
I didn't want my friends thinking for me. I didn't want them to decide what I felt. I wanted to do it alone.
This was mine. My problem. My hope. My choice.
I flew. Flew and flew, circling higher and higher on lush thermals that felt as if they could lift me effortlessly beyond the clouds.<
br />
Below and behind, I saw a falcon I knew as Jake. And a harrier I knew as Cassie. They saw me. Jake, at least, could easily have caught up with me. But they let me go. I guess they knew I needed to think.
I circled up till I could feel the ceiling of a flat-bottomed cumulus cloud right above me. Then I translated my altitude into distance and headed for the woods. Headed for a very specific place in the woods, far back, far from any trail.
I had been to this place twice before. Once when the Ellimist showed us all the way. Once when I went there only to hear an amazing story. But even now, even knowing precisely where it
35 was, even with all my hawk vision focused, all my innate direction-finding ability carefully attuned, I had a hard time finding it.
Call it a spell. That's what the Ellimist had done: He had cast a fairy-tale spell over this place, making it almost impossible for any mere mortal to find it. The eyes slid away. The feathers did not feel a breeze that blew from it. The ears heard no sound that came from it.
It was the valley of the Hork-Bajir. The free Hork-Bajir.
Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak had been the couple who'd escaped their Yeerk slave masters. How much the Ellimist had intervened . . . well, he would say he never intervenes in the affairs of other species. But Jara and Ket had evaded their Yeerks and avoided recapture with help from us. And they had come to this concealed valley.
Since then, others had come. Some were escapees. Others had been born into freedom.
That's where I flew. To the valley of the Hork-Bajir.
The last time I'd come, they'd been surprised. This time was different. This time, as I flew through the narrow opening of the valley, I saw two dozen Hork-Bajir standing, looking up at the sky, waiting.
When they saw me they began to point and wave. I thought I recognized Jara and Ket. Standing
36 at their center was the young Hork-Bajir girl named Toby. Named after me. She was Jara and Ket's child. And she was what the Hork-Bajir call a "seer."
The Hork-Bajir are not the geniuses of the galaxy. They may look like death and destruction on two legs, but the blades that adorn their seven-foot-tall bodies are designed for stripping edible bark from trees.
The Pretender Page 2