I left my hive-mate and lifted off. Zoomed out and over to Rachel, still perched in the next tree in eagle morph.
<What’s wrong with you?> she snapped. <It’s a stupid honeybee!>
<Sorry. But I’m not sure I’d call the bee stupid. You need individuality and sentience to be stupid, don’t you? As compared to smart or silly or whatever?>
<I guess,> Rachel conceded.
<Anyway, it’s not nearly as bad as being an ant. You know how ants are just programmed parts of a whole? It’s kind of like that, only not so aggressive. It’s sort of like I’m part of a big farm family. All for one and one for all while we bring in the crop and feed the next generation and pay homage to the queen. That’s what Communism is all about,> I mused. <I mean, Castro’s like a king when you think about it.>
<Yeah, well, Comrade Marco, just be sure you maintain control, okay?>
<Yeah. Look, there’s a couple of bees flying out of the hive. Might as well follow them and hope for the best.>
<I’m on you.>
I zipped off after the two bees. One zoomed off the property. The other seemed headed for the greenhouse.
So far, on a fairly straight path.
ZZZZZZZZ!
Not another bee. Not my bee. Another bug.
Whoosh!
It dropped straight down in front of me! Went right for the bee I was following!
What the heck was it?
Through what seemed like thousands of tiny TV screens I could see an insect larger than me, maybe twice my size. Its legs seemed to be covered in spines or spikes. Its nose looked like a big fat needle.
<Marco! You’d better look out!> Rachel called.
And then the monster insect hit the bee. Hard. Wrapped its horrible legs around it, capturing the smaller insect in a spiny, iron maiden-like prison.
Like one gigantic mutant insect they flew. The bee struggled but to no effect.
And then the big bandit stabbed the bee with its needle-nose. Had to be sucking the life from the bee, because when the big insect released the carcass it was withered and dry.
A terrible close call. But the killer insect had flown out of sight …
<Marco! He’s coming back for you!>
ZZZZZZZZZZZ!
<He’s about a foot behind you, maybe six inches up. I’ll try to get him but …>
<Ahhhhh!>
I felt one of his barbed legs pierce my abdomen.
No no no no!
A second leg impaled me from the other side.
I was a skewered snack for a seriously unattractive insect.
At least it would be quick. How long had it taken this thing to suck the life out of the other bee?
I felt the proboscis against my back. The very tip of the deadly sucking needle.
WHOOOOSSSHHH!
A massive gust of wind sent me swirling, then falling toward the ground.
Falling, but not dead.
I tried to move my wings, get control. But they were still pinned against my body by the grip of the demon on my back.
Thump!
I hit the ground. Stunned but alive.
<Marco!> Rachel cried. <Are you okay?>
<I’m alive,> I said. <But not okay. The thing’s still got me!>
<Oh, you’re fine,> she said. <I got him. Tore him right in half. Sorry I let you fall.>
<You’re forgiven. Just get me the heck out of here, will you?>
A bald eagle dive-bombing bugs in the backyard? Not too odd.
With massive eagle claws, Rachel grabbed me and what was left of the killer. We flew into the dense trees back by the hive where, one at a time, we demorphed and remorphed. Got ready to try this insane thing again.
This time, Rachel was on the lookout for winged hijackers.
After about ten minutes, another few bees headed off toward Gafinilan’s greenhouse. I followed.
<I see the force field,> I called out.
<Be careful, Marco.>
Let me tell you I more than realized I could definitely be fried in the force field, but it was a spectacular thing to actually see. A color I’d never seen as a human. Unbelievable. Indescribable. Something I later learned was called “bee-purple.” It’s the color between yellow and ultraviolet on the spectrum. Too intense for the human eye to see.
Too bad. Because it was intense. And running right through it, easily marked, was a curving tunnel. Actually quite wide for a bee. And the tunnel led ultimately to a small hole in a glass panel of the greenhouse’s back wall.
Cake. A piece of cake.
<I’m almost in,> I called to Rachel.
<Uh, Marco? Heads up. Gafinilan just came into the greenhouse.>
Too late. Had to take the chance. I slipped in behind another honeybee. Frighteningly close to Gafinilan, who was peering intently at one of his plant labels, holding it close to his two main eyes.
Suddenly, he swiveled his eye stalks toward us. Noted our appearance. And swiveled them back to his own business.
<I’m okay so far,> I said. <Heading into the house.>
I’d noted on my first visit that Gafinilan hadn’t closed the back door of the house, the one that connected the kitchen to the greenhouse. Had counted on his not doing so again.
Luck was with me.
So far, anyway.
I zipped through the open door.
Flew through every room in the house. The immaculately kept living room. Unused dining room. Pristine kitchen.
And I used the honeybee’s eyes and antennae to try to pick up more information.
I smelled the flowers, plants, and potting soil from the greenhouse. The chocolate and raisins of the cookies Gafinilan had stacked inside several glass Mason jars. A strong, disinfectant smell in the bathroom. Mr. Clean or Top Job or Comet.
Throughout the house, in every room, Gafinilan’s distinctive, not unpleasant odor.
But there was one thing I distinctly did not see or smell or sense in any way.
<What’s in there?> Rachel asked.
<I’ll tell you what’s not in here,> I said. <And what hasn’t been here for a long time. Mertil.>
“I don’t get it. Where is Mertil?” Jake said. But only after he stopped telling me he was getting really ticked at me and this whole Gafinilan thing. After he stopped glaring at Rachel. After he admitted the information about the missing Andalite was valuable. We were all in Cassie’s barn. And things were getting consistently more confusing. “Did he ever exist? Was the guy on the video a fake?”
<Prince Jake, I can confirm there was a Mertil-Iscar-Elmand at the Andalite Academy. And that a fighter pilot by the same name won much honor afterward.> Ax paused thoughtfully. <Of course, I did not know he was morph incapable. I was under the impression the academy did not admit vecols.>
“Yeah,” I snapped, “you hate when your hero turns out to be a cripple. That’s pretty crappy.”
“Back to the point,” Jake said tightly. “Which is, what do we do about Gafinilan?”
Rachel sprawled on a stack of hay bales. “He doesn’t want to hurt us. Not yet, anyway. But he doesn’t want to help us, either. He says he wants us to leave him alone, but then he asks to meet Jake. Doesn’t make sense.”
<I don’t think the guy knows what he wants …>
<Yes, Tobias. Yes, he does,> Ax said excitedly. <Illsipar root. Why didn’t I see before!>
I shook my head. “See what?”
<Gafinilan offered me illsipar root,> Ax explained. <It is a mild intoxicant, taken in a manner somewhat like humans take tea or coffee each morning.>
“Okay, but …”
<Illsipar root has a medicinal use, as well. In great quantities, it eases the pain of Soola’s Disease. This is a genetically programmed disease. It causes increasing pain in the joints as well as the muscles, extreme at the end. In some, it causes progressive blindness. It strikes in the prime of life and is always fatal.>
“Okay,” Jake said. “I still don’t understand what this disease has to do with us.”
“And I don’t understand,” Rachel began, “why, if Gafinilan has the disease, he can’t cure himself by morphing. Oh. Wait. Yes I do. His own DNA still has the disease. It’s like he’s trapped.”
Ax inclined his head. <Exactly. The only cure is to acquire, then morph, another Andalite. One without the defective gene that predisposes toward the disease. In other words, the victim of Soola’s Disease must abandon his imperfect body. He must become a nothlit.>
Tobias looked at Ax with his intensely fierce hawk’s eyes. <Sounds reasonable.>
<No. In Andalite society, choosing to become a nothlit in such a situation or for such a purpose is considered an act of cowardice. Morally wrong. Despicable.>
“If Gafinilan is sick, why haven’t we seen signs of his being in pain? And if acquiring another Andalite is what Gafinilan intends,” Cassie mused, “why wouldn’t he just have acquired Ax?”
Ax had an answer for that, too. <Gafinilan is an adult with an impressive warrior’s physique. He would never choose to adopt the body of a mere youth. He would waste years waiting for the new young body to grow to its maximum potential. Besides, I would never give my permission for such an act. As for Gafinilan’s exhibiting no signs of pain in public, that is only seemly. A warrior is trained not to show signs of physical weakness or mental strain.> Ax paused. <But the pain escalates the nearer death approaches, it is unlikely he will be able to completely hide his agony.>
“So, you think Gafinilan was — or is, still — hoping to acquire Visser Three’s Andalite …” I stopped. “Well, that wouldn’t be too difficult or anything.”
“No. I’m pretty sure he wants me,” Jake said suddenly. “At least, he wants who he thinks I am. A healthy adult Andalite.”
“But Ax said to become the nothlit is an act of cowardice,” Cassie pointed out. “You think Gafinilan is a coward? I don’t. Not the way he disregards Andalite custom to care for Mertil.”
“Nice, Cassie,” I snapped. “At the very least the guy’s a liar. And he’s big on keeping secrets. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. Which is about one tenth of an inch. Maybe.”
“I have to agree,” Rachel added. “Gafinilan is in a bad place. If he’s after an Andalite body, who knows what he’ll do when — if — he finds out Jake is human.”
“Same thing he did to Mertil,” I muttered. “I’m thinking it’s not Mertil’s happiness he’s after. I’m thinking he probably made that tape of his buddy himself. Put it out there to lure any other Andalites who might just be hanging around planet Earth. Then when Mertil did his part, Gafinilan put him out of his misery. The incredible disappearing Andalite.”
“Pretty harsh, Marco.” Cassie.
<But it could very well be the truth,> Ax said solemnly. <As much as it pains me to acknowledge the possibility of such behavior on the part of a fellow Andalite.>
<Loyalty,> Tobias said quietly, enigmatically, <is all there is.>
“Ax?” It was Cassie, beginning to sound excited. “What about the morphing cube? The Escafil Device? Could we use that on Mertil? Give him the power to morph?”
“What difference would that make if he’s dead?” Rachel said darkly.
Ax hesitated. <It is likely that Mertil is allergic to, or has some disease or disorder which makes his body reject the morphing technology. In which case, what good is our forcing it upon him?>
Jake stood abruptly. “Look, we’re not getting any closer to the truth by sitting around speculating. Is Mertil dead or alive? Is Gafinilan a bad guy or isn’t he? Only way to know is to get to him. And hope we’re the first ones there.”
So we went. I coached Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Ax on what to expect when they morphed the honeybee. Warned them about clutching the bee too tight when they acquired it. Warned them also about what Cassie told me was a robber fly, the demon insect who’d tried to make me into a bee smoothie.
The plan was for the five of us to sneak onto McClellan/Gafinilan’s property. Acquire a bee from the resident hive. And fly through the force field and into Gafinilan’s greenhouse.
When we were in place, Jake would ring the front doorbell. I’d slip into the house and stick with Gafinilan and Jake. The others would hang back until — if — we got in trouble and needed major backup.
And trouble could come from Gafinilan or the Yeerks. First, we had to make certain the house wasn’t being watched before Jake went up the driveway. That meant concentrated surveillance.
Beyond getting Jake inside to talk to the big Andalite, our plan was vague. Mostly contingent on Gafinilan’s actions.
When we were in morph, and safely in the greenhouse, I gave Jake the okay.
A moment later, he rang the front doorbell.
<Wish us luck, kids,> I said.
Gafinilan put down the bottle of liquid fertilizer he was preparing and headed into the house through the back door. I followed him. Close but not close enough to arouse suspicion and be swatted to death.
Once in the living room, Gafinilan morphed to Henry McClellan. Then walked to the front door. Opened it as far as the chain lock would allow.
“Yes?” he said, keeping his body almost entirely behind the door, allowing only part of his face to show.
“Gafinilan?” Jake kept his voice low.
“No. No, my name is Henry McClellan.”
Gafinilan began to close the door.
“I know,” Jake said quickly. “That’s your human name. Aximili told me. I’m Jake.”
Slowly, the door closed. Gafinilan undid the chain. Opened the door again. Stepped back.
“Come inside,” he said.
Jake did. Gafinilan relocked the door behind him.
“You are Aximili’s prince?”
“Yes,” Jake answered.
The Andalite’s human morph relaxed slightly. I could hear it in his voice.
“I am pleased that you have accepted the invitation to meet with me,” he said. “Perhaps it would be better if we spoke in surroundings more comfortable to both of us. Please, follow me.”
Gafinilan led Jake through the sparkling kitchen and into his private quarters. He stepped aside to allow Jake to enter first.
“Very nice,” Jake said.
The Andalite followed and programmed the door shut behind them. Behind me, too.
The three of us were alone. Cut off from the others, waiting in the greenhouse.
“As I told young Aximili,” Gafinilan said, conversationally, “Mertil and I were fortunate to have salvaged much from the wreckage of our fighters. Tell me, was there much to be salvaged of the Dome ship? Or did Earth’s ocean destroy it all?”
Jake looked steadily at Henry McClellan. “The Dome ship was almost completely destroyed,” he answered. Noncommittally.
“Yes, yes.” Henry’s eyes darted around the room. Then he looked back to Jake. “Jake. It is a good name. Is it a shortened version of something else, like ‘Ax’ for Aximili?”
“It’s just what people call me.”
Jake was giving the guy nothing.
Gafinilan spoke loudly. With false heartiness. “Please, make yourself comfortable. As will I.”
He stepped toward the center of the grassy room. Began to demorph.
<Why haven’t you demorphed?> he asked when he’d finished.
Jake smiled. “I prefer to speak with you in this form.”
<But you insult a fellow Andalite by not revealing your true self,> Gafinilan coaxed. His own eyes smiling the way Andalites do.
“My true physical self is irrelevant.”
<Prince Jake.> Gafinilan’s voice was forceful now, almost threatening. <I insist that you demorph from this ridiculous morph.>
“After you explain what you really want from me,” Jake countered.
<Enough!> Gafinilan took a step toward Jake, tail blade raised high, arched forward over his back.
And then
he stumbled, on nothing. Groaned. Closed all four eyes.
No doubt about it. The guy was in pain.
Ax was right. Soola’s Disease. Or something else pretty serious and getting worse.
Jake started to move forward. Instinctively, to help.
<No!> I said. <Wait. Let him tell us what we need to know.>
He stopped himself. Checked the impulse. Waited.
“Gafinilan …”
The Andalite opened his eyes, the main ones first. Regained his composure.
<No,> he said, his voice hard but low. <There will be no more talk.>
He turned away from Jake. Stepped slowly to the table of weapons. Picked up a shredder.
Turned and pointed it at Jake.
<Now you will do as I say.>
<We’ve got a problem,> I called out to the others. <We need reinforcements in here. Now!>
<What will it be, Prince Jake?> Gafinilan said. <If you think I will show you mercy because you appear as a child, you are mistaken.>
Jake stood perfectly still. “What if I am a child?” he said calmly. As if a shredder were not leveled a few feet from his face.
<Backup on the way, Jake,> I said.
Gafinilan’s tail twitched. <You bore me with this game! For an Andalite warrior, you are not particularly clever.>
“Hrrooooaaaarrr!!”
From the direction of the greenhouse came the menacing roar of a grizzly. The lonely howl of a wolf. The bloodcurdling screech of a raptor.
Gafinilan jerked toward the sounds.
And then there was one loud BABOOM! as Rachel crashed through one of the walls like a baseball crashing through a window. But making a lot more mess.
Cassie, Ax, and Tobias followed almost daintily through the rubble.
“I’m sorry we bore you, Gafinilan,” Jake said calmly. “But we’re bored, too. Tired of your evasions and half-truths. So if it’s okay with you, this is the moment of reckoning. Time to come clean.”
<Four warriors against one?> Gafinilan blustered.
“Five, if I morph,” I said, having demorphed behind the weapons table, walking around to face our host. “Six if Jake does.”
“But we’re not here to fight, Gafinilan,” Jake said. “Just to get some information.”