The Other Page 3
I laughed. “Yeah, we do. We know enough. We know there is a relationship. That combined with Gafinilan’s telling us to get gone. And, of course, his threat to kill us if we didn’t leave him and his buddy Mertil alone. In my book, if he’s not with us, he’s against us.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s remember he didn’t stay to meet Visser Three. There’s always the possibility that these two Andalites could become part of our team. So, we should keep an eye on this guy. Make sure he’s not working for a Yeerk-run company. Or heading off to the Yeerk pool once every three days.”
“I’m there,” Rachel said.
“I’ll go, too.” Cassie.
“Fine. Ax, what do you know about Gafinilan?” Jake asked.
“He almost killed you for insulting his friend,” I pointed out. “And he attacked you, a fellow Andalite.”
“With aggression. Okay, then, what’s up with the videotape?” Rachel demanded. “Who took it? How could it have gotten to the show?”
Cassie shrugged. “Lots of possibilities. It could be totally innocent. It might have been taken by some slimy guy out to make some money by selling it to TV. Or to those horrible magazines like the Star or Enquirer. Or some jerk’s idea of a practical joke.”
“Or it might have been taken by Gafinilan,” Rachel said tightly. “Maybe he’s made a deal with the Yeerks. The perfect way to lure the Andalite bandits to certain death.”
“But we’re still alive,” I replied. “So if what you’re suggesting is true, I’m positive we would not be having this conversation.”
“Too bad,” Jake said dryly. “How often do Andalites come to Earth? We can’t ignore the fact that Gafinilan and Mertil are holed up in suburbia. Our suburbia. We don’t mean them any harm, but we’re going to find out as much as we can.”
“I take it that means we’re going in?” I said. Like I didn’t already know.
“Oh, yeah. Only ‘we’ means you and Ax,” Jake said. “If this guy is a traitor, if he’s with the Yeerks, we don’t want him knowing any more about us than he already does. So, later today Marco as human, which is way too much information already, and Ax as Andalite. He’s seen Tobias but we need him to fly surveillance while you two are inside. You are on a formal visit on behalf of your prince, Ax. The rest of us will back you up. Provide firepower if necessary.”
I grinned. “Just in case he meant that ‘I’ll kill you if you don’t leave me alone’ thing. Thanks, big guy.”
Jake grinned back. “No problem. And when you leave, the rest of us will stay put. Watch where he goes, what he does. See if he contacts the Yeerks. Keep an eye out for Mertil, too.” He turned to Rachel and Cassie. “But first, try to catch Mr. H. McClellan before he leaves the house this morning. Tobias, go with them. When they have to get to school, you take over.”
Tobias lifted from his perch in the rafters.
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I said to Jake after all the others had left. “Until Ax and I pay a visit to Batman and Robin?”
Jake gave me a pained smile. “Uh, Marco, I think you’ve done enough already. You know, the three of you running off to find this Andalite without telling the rest of us. How about taking it easy for a few hours? Maybe say a prayer, or two? We’re gonna need it.”
I’m not much for prayers and supplication.
Unless, of course, it involves getting a beautiful girl to say “yes” to going out with me. Then, even begging and imploring are options.
I’d joined Tobias up above H. McClellan’s neighborhood. Above blocks of two- and three-bedroom ranches and split-levels, roofs and gables all cedar shake triangles and trapezoids. Above a collection of backyard pools, bright blue circles and squares, and front yards uniformly rectangular and green. A typically American kind of geometric pattern. Actually kind of cool from this perspective.
Tobias coasted into a lazy circle, letting the thermals support him.
I glided down, closer to the roof of Henry McClellan’s ranch house. Closer to the large greenhouse that was attached to the house itself by a fifteen-foot-long tunnellike extension.
Tobias ignored my remark.
Gafinilan was barely visible, even to my osprey eyes, beneath the humid, curved glass of the greenhouse and the proliferation of green stuff growing inside.
Tobias landed in a huge old oak tree on Mr. Henry McClellan’s property.
I glided lower, lower, eyes straining to catch every detail I could when …
ZZZZZAAAAAPPPPP!
I hadn’t even touched the glass! But a nasty electric jolt sent me toppling over, almost upside down, less than a foot from the glass roof. I righted myself, flapped furiously, desperate not to touch the glass, not even to get as close as I’d come a second before.
The greenhouse was surrounded by a force field.
Only natural for
Gafinilan to go to any lengths to protect himself.
I couldn’t. The pain was excruciating. My human mind was numb with shock.
Then I flew. Not toward anything, not even away from anything. The osprey’s senses took over and I just flew, up, then down, flapping madly, lost in the pain.
I didn’t see the surveillance cameras pop up from the roof of the house.
Until it was too late.
Tobias’s cries finally pierced my mindless panic.
I looked back to see Gafinilan’s head and weapon-wielding hands poking through a skylight in the flattish roof of the house.
He held a shredder aimed right at me.
I didn’t answer. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, if I kept quiet, he would think I was only some dumb bird.
Not for the first time, I underestimated him.
Tsseeewww!
He fired!
I saw the flash before I felt the pain.
One of my talons, completely gone.
Some warning.
You can’t imagine how disturbing it is to look down and see that one of your body parts is missing. No matter what form you’re in. See the blank space where it used to be. See the blood and gore oozing out of the stump.
Not much of a choice there.
To Gafinilan:
He kept the shredder aimed at me. Didn’t seem to see Tobias winging off, or didn’t care.
I climbed to my feet. No worse for the missing talon. Just a little muddy from rolling around on the ground.
“It looks that way.”
Gafinilan poked the shredder at me like a scolding finger.
“What difference does that make?”
“The Andalite who gave me the power to morph is dead,” I told him flatly. “And I’m not sure you should be calling anyone else a criminal. You know, let he who is without fault throw the first stone, and all.”
Suddenly, I was more mad than scared. “I’m not implying anything. I’m saying it outright. You made some kind of deal with Visser Three. I’m not sure of the details yet, or what you stand to get out of it. But this much I do know: Visser Three is a Yeerk. Now, you Andalites are a smart bunch. You tell me what that makes you.”
SWOOOSH!
My hand flew to my neck. Came away bloody.
Just a little nick. A warning shot.
And then the blade was back at my throat.
Gafinilan said, his thought-speak low and menacing.
Ax!
Pushing his way through the tall hedges that surrounded McClellan’s property. Tail poised, ready to fight.
Gafinilan swung his eye stalks to look at Ax. His main eyes bored into mine.
Ax replied.
Gafinilan did not respond. Not right away. He stood perfectly still, regarding us separately, the expression on his face inscrutable.
he said finally.
I stepped back. Felt the stinging skin of my neck and said, “Then I guess this conversation is over.”
I took a step away from Gafinilan. Then another toward Ax.
Slowly, I turned my head and looked back at the big Andalite.
And for a split second, thought I saw a trembling race through his massive body. A slight tremor. Maybe I imagined it.
Jake. Perfect.
“Okay,” I said to Gafinilan. “Let’s talk.”
Gafinilan led Ax and me through a door in the side of the greenhouse’s tunnel-like entranceway. From there, we entered the house itself through a very typical back door, screen and all.
And stepped into a kitchen straight out of Martha Stewart Living or House Beautiful or Architectural Digest. One of those lifestyle magazines my stepmother is always reading.
Gafinilan replied, just as formally.
“That’s a ranch house for you,” I said. “Next time, go for a Cape Cod, at least. Or skylights in every room, not just the kitchen.”
Gafinilan chose to ignore my remark. He led us through the kitchen, a veritable shrine to modern domestic technology. A Sub-Zero fridge. Microwave. Viking cooktop and oven. State-of-the-art Bosch dishwasher. Cuisinart. KitchenAid mixer. And everything was sparkling clean. Nora would have been in heaven. Okay. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time watching that kitchen show on the Food Network.
“Yeah, great kitchen, Gafinilan,” I said. “But it looks like it’s never been used. No dirty dishes in the sink, no dustpan against the wall, no soaking wet dish towels thrown on a counter. No way anyone’s going to believe two guys live here.”
Gafinilan focused his main eyes on me.
Well, that answered that question. Gafinilan led us through several other rooms in the house, each equally pristine, each obviously unused. I mean, white carpeting? Pink silk upholstery? For two guys with muddy hooves and no ability to sit?
Clearly, Mertil and Gafinilan actually lived somewhere else in the house.
The only disturbingly out-of-place items in the otherwise perfect house were a few pieces of artwork, obviously bought at some starving artist sale set up along a highway. You know, paintings on black velvet, sold from the trunk of an old Cadillac. There were the requisite seascapes and even a sad-eyed clown.
Before I could ask where the crying Elvis was hung, Gafinilan led us back to the kitchen. On the far wall was a keypad. The Andalite’s massive shoulders blocked our view of it as he punched in the code. A concealed door to the left of the pad slid open.
In semiprivate thought-speak, Ax let Jake know our position. That we were entering a concealed
part of the house. That he and the others should be ready to come at our call.
Then Ax and I stepped forward. I whistled. It was a mini Andalite home-away-from-home.
I smiled wryly. “You don’t say.”
Computer stations. More than half a dozen of them. Each screen running a different program, none of which looked familiar to me at first glance.
Several large-screen TVs. Each on and tuned to a different news program. Everything from Hollywood Style Report to CNN to the Bloomberg Report.
The floor was covered in lush, well-tended grass. No chairs, but a long, fairly high table on which lay various handheld weapons.
The walls were painted a creamy color. The ceiling, sky-blue. There seemed to be no other rooms beyond or off this large one. There might have been, of course. There might have been another secret sliding panel. There probably was.
Because we did not see Mertil.
And things had been going so well.
But instead of watching Ax’s head roll across the grassy floor, I watched the expression in Gafinilan’s face mutate from fury to despair to a typical Andalite inscrutability. All in the space of a few seconds.