The doors to the freight elevator opened. The Hork-Bajir wavered, distracted.
Jake roared.
Tseeewww! Tseeewww! Tseeewww!
Dracon beams burned. Inches above us.
And now …
Tseeew! Tseeew!
Shredder fire! The sound, so like a Dracon beam, was different enough for any Andalite aristh to recognize.
Tseeew! Tseeew!
Shredder fire, point-blank at the wall of tight-packed Hork-Bajir.
Visser Three yelled, his thought-speak voice torn between outrage, fear, and simple disbelief.
Four Andalites jumped from the elevator like bucks clearing a fence. They were everywhere at once. Firing. Whipping their tail blades with deadly precision.
They were magnificent.
I fought beside a young female.
She had impeccable timing. She was dangerous. She was beautiful.
CRASH!
The hallway wall collapsed and the battle spilled back into the interior office space of the building.
The female kept up a steady stream of fire as we forced back the Hork-Bajir line.
Windows shattered. Desks splintered. Plaster, tangles of wire, and debris poured from the ceiling.
The Yeerks were losing.
Suddenly, the shrill sound of police sirens penetrated the noise of battle.
Tobias announced.
Prince Jake demanded, unwilling to run till he was sure we were all safe.
Prince Jake snapped.
The visser did not deign to respond. He slammed his way past a Taxxon, leaving the creature oozing goo from a deep gash.
The battle was over.
Shell-shocked Hork-Bajir began gathering up their dead, Taxxons waddled back down the stairwell, dragging what meat they could take away with them; to disappear into some secret basement hiding place.
Then, through a cloud of plaster dust, I saw one of the Andalite warriors jump over the body of a fallen Hork-Bajir and land face-to-face with Visser Three.
Of course! These Andalites were not under Prince Jake’s orders.
The Andalite lifted his shredder. It would be a point-blank killing.
I felt a surge of hot joy in my heart.
Visser Three looked at the Andalite.
The Andalite’s eyes flickered and his finger hesitated on the shredder.
Fwapp!
With the flat of his tail blade, the visser smacked the weapon from his assailant’s hand.
Visser Three laughed.
The one he had called Arbat let out an Andalite curse.
Visser Three leaped to safety behind a phalanx of Hork-Bajir.
Prince Jake said,
one of the Andalites commanded.
Prince Jake ordered.
I cried as the Andalites galloped down what was left of the hall.
The female turned.
An hour later, we were in Cassie’s barn.
Cassie’s family runs the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic. At any given time, the clinic houses several dozen wounded or ill creatures. Often exotics.
There are also squirrels, rabbits, pigeons, and grackles. Common creatures that come and go, drawn by the seeds and oats that lie scattered in and around the barn.
“No doubt about it,” Marco said, waving a copy of The Chronicle. “A propaganda mill for Yeerks. Part three in a five-part series on The Sharing.”
The Sharing exists to recruit human hosts, willing and unwilling. It poses as an innocuous family-oriented group.
For every Yeerk that has a host body, there are thousands of Yeerks that do not. They live in a dank pool where they feed on Kandrona rays. And wait.
They wait for host bodies.
They would not wait much longer.
I said.
“Not so fast, Ax-man,” Marco warned.
I heard the old Andalite vainglory in my voice. I thought I had outgrown the impulse to boast. But the thrill of fighting side by side with another Andalite had reawakened all the pride of my people.
For the first time since I’d found myself stranded on Earth, I felt that the future might be hopeful.
So I did not understand the look of wariness and pity transmitted from face-to-face.
Cassie. To Rachel. To Prince Jake. To Tobias. To Marco.
Marco spoke. “If I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: It may walk like an Andalite. It may talk like an Andalite. But that don’t mean it is an Andalite.”
“He’s right, Ax.” Cassie held a defanged pit viper she had found abandoned in the schoolyard. Gently she pried it from her arm and placed it in a large tub beneath a heat lamp.
“We know it’s hard for you, and that you’re lonely a lot of the time,” Cassie continued. “But … ”
“But we have to be realistic,” Marco finished. “This might be the fleet. Or it might be some fresh hell.”
Prince Jake crossed his arms. “How do we know these new Andalites aren’t Yeerks with Andalite host bodies?”
Tobias agreed.
I protested.
“In a world where slugs can take over entire civilizations, anything is possible,” Marco reminded me.
“Funny you should mention Leera,” Marco said. He did not say anything more. He did not have to. There, for the first time in my life, I had learned that even an Andalite may be a traitor.
I insisted.
Another look passed from face to face. This time, it appeared to be one of amusement.
“Ax,” Cassie said. “I think you have what is commonly known as a crush.”