The Proposal Read online

  «Marco!» Rachel screamed.

  One of my wings was broken, bent completely backward. I could feel one of the long wing bones popping through the skin.

  "Fool of an Andalite," Tennant gloated. He kicked the huge dictionary aside and scooped me up in his sweaty palms. "Taking on such a weak morph! I admire your courage, but I'm afraid I will have to kill you just the same!"

  57 «Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!»

  Rachel dove for Tennant's head. Feetfirst, she dug her claws into his hair.

  "What the . . . ?" Tennant growled.

  «What the . . . ?» Rachel shot upward, away from Tennant's swinging hand.

  Still holding his hair.

  William Roger Tennant dropped me.

  I hit the floor. The pain! My body was crushed. Every breath was pure agony. Vaguely I was aware of Rachel fluttering just over Tennant's head, his ponytailed toupee in her talons.

  "Give me that!" Tennant screamed.

  «Marco!» Jake shouted. «Are you okay?»

  «Pm roadkill in here.»

  «Rachel, lead Tennant into the hall!» Jake shouted. «Marco, demorph! Do you hear me? De-morph!»

  Rachel flew into the hallway with Tennant's toupee. He chased after her.

  «Hork-Bajir!»

  «l count six,» Ax yelled.

  «Ax, you and me on the Hork-Bajir,» Jake snapped. «Cassie, try to cover Marco. Rachel, get out of sight, demorph, remorph, and kick some butt. Tobias, we need you down here!»

  I heard the sounds of battle in the long hallway. Tearing. Growling. Slashing.

  I tried to concentrate. All I had to do was

  58 morph out, and my injuries would disappear. But I was fading fast. I barely had the strength to think, let alone will myself to demorph.

  «Watch out! Tennant's got a gun!»

  «Spread out!»

  "I'll kill all of you!"

  BLAM!

  A gunshot!

  I felt the changes begin. My broken wings began to grow. Feathers turned to flesh. My body mass became larger, heavier.

  My injuries slowly disappeared. My arms stretched out in front of me, miraculously healed. My ribs and torso returned to their normal size and shape. My lungs, able to breathe again!

  TSEEEWWW!

  Dracon beam!

  I was nearly finished. The pain was gone. I could see straight. Think straight. Now what? Re-morph? Firepower. My gorilla morph would do just fine.

  I rolled under the huge desk and focused. My arms started to grow. Thick. Strong. Powerful enough to flip a car without breaking a sweat.

  There was some heavy action going on in the hallway. The floor was pounding. The walls shaking.

  60 "Kill them!" William Roger Tennant screamed. "Kill the Andalite bandits!"

  Another shot!

  I saw a Hork-Bajir stagger into the room. He slammed into the window, grabbed, slipped, and fell, wrapped up in translucent off-white window blinds.

  The morph continued. Hurry! My friends needed me! Come on, Marco! Morph! Morph!

  Wait! Something was wrong! My arms kept growing, but the rest of my body was shrinking! Getting smaller, smaller. I was barely a foot long! A foot-long torso with three-foot arms!

  My skin began to feel dry, flaky. Scales? My head started sinking into my shoulders, flattening itself out into an arrowhead shape. An eye on each side of my face. My bottom lip extruded outward like I was trapped in kissing mode. Then my shoulders receded into the rest of my body until I was just a long, flat body with insanely huge arms.

  I felt two slits opening, one on either side of my face. And suddenly, I couldn't breathe. Gills! I'd grown gills!

  I was half-gorilla, half-trout!

  «N oooooooo !»

  59

  Aaaaaaghhh!»

  The fish brain went berserk. I flopped around wildly on the floor.

  «Marco. What exactly are you doing?»

  Tobias?

  I focused my distorted fish eye on the nearest window.

  «l don't know, dude!» I yelled, feeling fairly well terrified.

  «Well, demorph!» Tobias cried. «Get out of that morph! That's not right.»

  Panic! I couldn't breathe! And my tiny body didn't store much oxygen. I was dizzy . . .

  «Come on, Marco, you can do it. Focus!»

  I whimpered. But the changes had begun. My

  61 body started to grow. My arms to shrink. The slits in my cheeks disappeared. I gasped for air. Sweet, beautiful air.

  «Cassie, behind you!» Jake yelled from the hallway.

  William Roger Tennant screamed, "Kill them! Destroy them. I don't care if you burn this house down doing it!"

  TSEEEWWW!

  More Dracon beams!

  «Rachel! Tobias! We need some help in here!»

  TSEEEWWW!

  «There's too many of them. Back up into the office!» Jake cried. «MOVE!»

  TSEEEWWW!

  «Marco,» Tobias shouted. «They're coming back this way, crank it up.»

  I'd almost finished demorphing. I was human. With normal, functional arms and legs and lungs.

  This wasn't necessarily a good thing. If Tennant saw me, identified me as Marco the kid - not the Andalite bandit - my life was over. My dad's life, too, for that matter.

  In fact, all of my friends - everyone I knew - would be killed or taken prisoner by the Yeerks.

  But if I didn't act now my friends might be dead anyway. I had to think of something!

  62 The door to the hallway swung into the office. I hid behind it. It was a big door. Solid oak, about two inches thick.

  TSEEEWWW!

  «Keep moving!» Jake ordered.

  I heard the panting of large mammals. The stomping of Hork-Bajir warriors.

  Through the open door! Jake, Rachel, Cassie, Ax!

  "Get them!" William Roger Tennant screamed. "They'll be trapped in the office! They'll be-"

  WHAM!

  I slammed the door. It hit something. Judging from the unrepeatable words Tennant shouted, it was his face.

  «Marco! What are you doing out of morph?» Jake shouted.

  "No time!" I said, locking the door. "We need to bail."

  And we'd have to go through the window.

  "Fools!" Tennant screamed from behind the door. "Break this door down! Disintegrate it!"

  I looked around the room. What to use?

  Webster's College Edition? The New York Public Library Desk Reference? The Collected Works of Leo Tolstoy? The chair?

  No. William Roger Tennant's laptop. I

  63 snatched it with both hands and yanked it off the desk, pulling out the cord in the process.

  "Here's hoping he didn't back up his hard drive," I said, turning my back to the window. I spun the laptop around like I was doing the hammer toss. At the top of my arc, I let go.

  The computer sailed through the air.

  CRASH!

  The massive window shattered into thousands of pieces of glass.

  «Let's move!»

  Tiger! Grizzly! Wolf! Andalite! All soared through the broken window. Scrambled to their feet. Ran off, over the wall of the compound. Safe.

  BOOM!BOOM!

  A battering ram! The office door buckled.

  «Jump, Marco!» Cassie shouted back.

  I dashed across the room. The office was on the first floor of the mansion. But the land sloped severely down toward the ocean.

  There was at least a twenty-foot drop to the ground.

  The tree. Its branches extended to within a few feet of the window. Below, a solid cement patio.

  But what were my choices? Broken ankle - or life as a Controller.

  64 I gritted my teeth, stepped up on the sill, and threw myself out the window. Kicked, flailed, snagged a branch with one hand.

  Dropped out of the tree. Sprinted for a row of bushes that lined the wall surrounding the grounds. Dove behind it and curled myself up into the tiniest ball I could make.

  Had William Roger Tennant seen me?
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  65 Why didn't you tell us about this problem?" Jake asked. We were gathered in Cassie's barn. This time I couldn't fake it. Couldn't pretend the morphing disaster hadn't happened. Tobias had seen the whole thing from outside the window.

  "I don't know," I said. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

  "No, you're right. You end up half-trout, half-gorilla while we're all playing pin the tail on the Hork-Bajir, why would that be a problem?" Rachel said.

  "Everything turned out okay, didn't it?!" I snapped. "Besides, Rachel. You weren't exactly up front with us when you had that allergy to the crocodile morph. In fact, if I remember correctly,

  66 you lied to us about it. Said you were all better when you weren't."

  Rachel winced, cocked her head, and said, "Maybe I'll just let someone else yell at you."

  Jake turned to Ax. "Any idea why this is happening?"

  «l am not sure, Prince Jake,» Ax replied. «We know that the morphing process requires focus and concentration. I have heard of cases in which emotional distress has negatively affected morphing ability.»

  "Maybe the problem you're having with your dad is bothering you more than you think," Cassie suggested.

  I gave Cassie a dirty look.

  "I'm sorry, Marco," she said. "But if it's affecting your ability to fight, it's everyone's business."

  "What problem with your dad?" Jake demanded.

  "He's dating, all right?"

  "That's it? We already know that. So is that the reason you're morphing into surf and turf?"

  "Urn, Jake," Cassie intervened. "His mom, may not be exactly dead? His dad, may not be exactly a widower?"

  "Oh." Jake looked chagrined. "Sorry. It didn't click right away. Why didn't you say something before, Marco? I'm your best friend."

  67 I shrugged. "Because it's no big thing." I laughed. A fake laugh. "I figure Ms. Rottenette will go away, eventually. How long can she possibly stand me?"

  «l am confused,» Ax said. «Are you saying that your father is considering taking this woman as a new mate?»

  "You could put it that way," Cassie said.

  "But I'd rather you didn't," I added. "He's just -"

  «Ah. Perhaps your father is Young and Restless. Those who are Young and Restless frequently change mates.»

  "Okay, first thing, we smash Ax's TV," I said.

  "Look, the problem here is Marco's ability to morph." Jake turned to me. "We can't have you going on missions in this state. For your sake and for ours."

  "Really, it's not a problem," I protested. "I've just had a lousy couple of weeks, that's all. I'll get over it. Trust me on this."

  "Maybe you need to talk to somebody," Cassie suggested. "Like a professional."

  "Yeah, Cassie. 'Uh, Doctor Freud? My dad's thinking about remarrying. See, he thinks my mom is dead, but she's not. She's actually a slave to an alien race trying to conquer the planet. And did I mention the fact that I'm fighting this alien invasion myself? That I do it by

  68 turning into animals? Say what? What size strait-jacket do I wear?'"

  "Well, okay," Cassie replied gently. "But what about us? We are your friends, Marco. You can talk to us. Keeping stuff all locked inside is what makes you get so stressed."

  "Cassie, everyone here has problems. Ax is the only member of his species within a trillion miles who's not a Controller; you're a pacifist who spends half her time battling aliens; Jake is just a dumb jock trying to play General Eisenhower; Rachel is about three millimeters away from morphing permanently into the Terminator; and, oh, by the way, Tobias is a bird who lives in a tree and eats mice for breakfast. We all have problems. We are not exactly the poster children for Mental Health week."

  "Dumb jock? Excuse me?"

  "The point is we're all hanging on by our fingernails. What right do I have to go nuts?"

  Cassie shrugged. "As much right as anyone."

  "Yeah, well, that's not much, okay? We have things to do. I just need to get a grip is all."

  Jake sighed. "Okay, let's focus here. Not to belittle Marco's problem, but we do have a mission. Taking down William Roger Tennant."

  "Fat chance," Rachel muttered. "His public personna is solid gold. Except for the fact that

  69 he's a complete Looney Tune, his only flaw seems to be wearing a toupee."

  Jake waved his hand in front of his face as if he were erasing a blackboard. "All right. It's obvious we're not going to figure out a solution tonight. We might as well go home and catch up on our homework. And Marco?"

  "Yeah," I muttered. "I know. No morphing."

  70 r

  I he long walk home gave me a lot of time to think.

  It took me only about two blocks to come to a conclusion.

  I hated my life.

  I'm not much for self-pity. It never does you any good. But there are times when it's pointless to deny that life sucks.

  For a long time I had held on to the hope that my mother might come home again. Safe and sound. That my mom and dad and I might eat dinner together every night and go on vacation to the Grand Canyon and play Monopoly on rainy Sunday afternoons.

  It was a long shot, my mom's coming home. I

  71

  knew that. A very, very long shot. It was a long shot even believing she might be alive. But still I'd had hope.

  Then Ms. Rottenette had come along. Destroying the last of that hope. Decimating it.

  I was going insane. Hard to believe that after all the craziness I'd been through since this war started, a simple, everyday, domestic problem would be the thing to push me over the edge.

  Oh, yeah. And then there was the fact that we had no clue how to stop William Roger Tennant from recruiting for The Sharing on prime-time network TV.

  And even if we did, I probably wouldn't be allowed to fight with the others. Because of my PROBLEM.

  Bad day? Sure. But it was still early. Something could still screw up even worse. If I was really, really lucky.

  What was I going to do for the rest of the night?

  Homework? Not after a near-death experience. No, a near-death experience called for a couple of hours of vegging with my PlayStation.

  My street. My house. I turned to walk up the driveway.

  And stopped. Something was wrong. I looked quickly up and down the street. Nobody.

  Looked back to my house. No lights. But the

  72 garage was open and my dad's car was parked inside. And whose car was parked in the driveway?

  I took a few steps. Slowly. This would be a perfect end to my day, I thought. A Yeerk arn-bush. Visser Three waiting for me in my own living room.

  Had the Yeerks seen me at William Roger Ten-nant's house? Had they already identified me?

  I crept around the back of the house. No lights on there, either. Slowly I walked back around front. Peeked through the large bay window into the living room. Too dark. I couldn't see a thing.

  What should I do? Try a morph? I wasn't sure I could pull one off. And even if I could, one gorilla wouldn't be enough to stop Visser Three and a force of Hork-Bajir.

  For a second I thought that maybe I was being paranoid. That my dad was already asleep. That he'd just forgotten to close the garage door. But that didn't explain the other car.

  I thought about running off to find Jake and the others. Realized that by the time I got back with reinforcements, my dad could be dead. Or worse.

  No choice. I reached for the doorknob. Turned it.

  Slowly I opened the door.

  " RrrrrrrRrrrrrrrRrrrrrRrrrrrrrrrrR R R Rrrrrrr."

  73 Two clawed feet slammed into my stomach.

  "Aaaaah!" I screamed.

  "What the -?" a voice cried.

  I swung my arms wildly, pushing the beast away.

  "Arrarrarrarrarrarrarr!"

  It attacked again. Shielding myself from its paws, I flipped the wall switch. The lights popped on.

  "Get away from me!" I yelled.

  "Arrarrarrarrarrarrarr!"

  "Marco
?"

  It was my dad. He was sitting on the couch. Ms. Robbinette was sitting on the couch, too. They were sitting very close. In fact, Ms. Robbinette was more sitting on my dad than on the couch.

  My dad jumped to his feet. His face was almost as red as the lipstick smeared across it.

  "Euclid!" Ms. Robbinette shouted. "Stop! Sit! Be quiet!"

  The idiot dog kept barking. And jumping on me. Only a foot and a half long, but it could jump three feet in the air. It would have been so easy to punt him across the room. Right through the kitchen window at the back of the house.

  "What are you doing home?" my dad asked sheepishly.

  "Uh, I live here?" I answered, pushing the dog away.

  74 "Euclid! Stop!" Ms. Robbinette shouted again. "Honestly, I don't understand what's wrong with him."

  I was tempted to give my opinion. Instead, I caught the mutt in midair. He tried to squirm away, but I squeezed him to my body the way a running back carries a football. I began to acquire him and he went limp.

  "Ohh," Ms. Robbinette said, charmed by the sight of Euclid half-asleep in my arms. "See? He likes you, Marco."

  I suppose you could call Ms. Robbinette pretty. She has dark hair and very smooth fair skin. I didn't care.

  "We didn't expect you home so soon," my dad muttered while he tried to figure out what to do with his hands.

  "Sorry."

  "Usually you're out so late. You know. With Jake."

  Euclid woke from his trance. He started to squirm and I dropped him. Immediately he clamped his jaws on the ankle of my jeans and started to pull.

  "Euclid!" Ms. Robbinette yelled. "You know, Marco, Euclid does sense stress. Are you feeling stressed?"

  I looked at my dad.

  76 "Uh, aren't we all?" he said with an awkward laugh.

  "I think I'll just go up to my room now," I said. I grabbed my PlayStation from under the coffee table.

  "Nice seeing you, Marco," Ms. Robbinette said politely.

  "Uh-huh," I grunted. My dad gave me a pained look.

  I clumped up the stairs, Euclid attached to my ankle.

  When I reached my bedroom door, I gently unhooked Euclid's jaws from my jeans, pushed him away, and slammed my door shut.

  " Arrarrarrarrarrarrarrarrarr!"

  I don't know how long he stayed out there barking. I hooked up my headphones to the TV and turned the volume up enough to drown him out.

  75

  Normally I would complain. Normally I would point out that the very idea of this mission was insane. A ten on the Ten Point Insanity Scale.