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  "My people!" Rachel cried in delight. "At last I have a true homeland!"

  "They shop?" I asked Guide. "That's it? They shop?"

  «Someone must buy what is created in the great factories and small craftworks,» Guide said.

  "Exactly," Rachel agreed.

  «The economy cannot function without people to buy things.»

  "Guide, you are finally making sense," Rachel said with great satisfaction.

  We went to an empty store at the end of a long, narrow street. The previous business had moved out, leaving nothing but empty shelves behind.

  "Okay. This will do," I said. "Now. How do we get the word to the Howlers that we're here?"

  «l have only to mention it to a member of the News, Gossip, and Speculation Guild,» Guide said.

  124 «This is quite a little lunatic asylum the Ellimist wants us to save,» Tobias said. «Lego Land meets Dr. Seuss with a population made up of whining nutbags - no offense, Guide - who think shopping and gossiping are careers.»

  "Hey, don't diss my brothers and sisters of the Shopper Guild," Rachel said with mock ferocity.

  "Okay, let's get this in gear," I said. "Guide? We have the memory players?"

  «Yes, of course.»

  "Ax? You ready?"

  «Yes, Prince Jake,» he said.

  "Don't call me Prince. And come here for a minute." I went into an empty corner with him. "Ax, maybe I'm wrong, but you still seem to be chafing over that first battle."

  «l ran away,» he said simply.

  "You came back."

  «l ran away,» he repeated harshly.

  "You were the only one not in morph. You and Tobias. And he was in the air, not close to that howling noise. Does it occur to you that maybe the Howler's howl is specially designed to affect the brains of sentient creatures? I mean, the physical brain, the gray matter - or whatever color yours is?"

  He shrugged impatiently, a gesture he'd picked up from humans.

  125 "Listen, Ax, the Howlers are a biological weapon designed to kill sentient species. When they were designed, when Crayak was coming up with that howl, he'd have fine-tuned it to have an especially terrifying effect on complex, sentient brains. I had a tiger brain and it nearly destroyed me. You had your own, very smart, very aware, very complex brain. Exactly what the howl was designed to attack."

  Ax didn't accept what I was saying. But he didn't dismiss it totally, either. He seemed to fidget, like he wished the conversation was over.

  I sighed. I'd said all I could say. Ax needed to do something to wipe away what he saw as a terrible stain.

  "Okay, Ax. It's time to get set. But you better remember one thing: Your job is to get out of this alive. If I'm really your prince, I'll give you an order: You do not have permission to get yourself killed. No matter how heroic you think it would be."

  126

  It took less than an hour.

  Tobias, floating high above the narrow streets, saw them burst at a run from the stairs. They looked around, knowing the floor we were on, but not the building.

  We didn't want them having time to plan. We wanted to use their blood-lust and rage.

  Down the street, seemingly oblivious, walked Ax. Tobias reported the scene by thought-speak.

  «He's almost there. The Howlers are sticking together. Not as cocky as they were, though. They should spot him any second now. Any second now.»

  Then, «What are they, blind? Ax is getting awfully close. The crowd is blocking their view of

  127 him. Too many Iskoort in the way. Oh, man! He's too ... They see him! Ax-man, run! Run!»

  I looked at Cassie and the others. "It's time. I have to do this."

  I blocked images of Ax from my mind. Images of him racing, dodging, weaving through the Iskoort crowds. Images of the Howlers bounding after him.

  Instead, I focused on a different image: the Howler I had acquired. I formed the image in my mind and I felt the changes begin.

  "Rachel," I said, while I was still human, "you know what to do. If I get out of control, can't control the morph. If I start that howl . . . you'll have to do it."

  Rachel had morphed to grizzly bear. She stood directly behind me. Her two massive front paws, with claws that could flay the bark off a tree, lay on my shoulders.

  If I lost control of the morph, Rachel would . . . would do what she had to do. Quickly. Before I could hurt anyone.

  As backup, Marco was in gorilla morph. His fist, as big as my head, and powered by enough muscle to knock a hole in a wall, was cocked a foot from my face.

  «They're on him!» Tobias yelled. «AII six of them. Like hounds after a rabbit. Man! That boy can run! Ax-man! Opening to your right!»

  128 The Howlers could not shoot, not in a crowd of Iskoort. Rules of engagement. Nor could they use their howls, not without possibly killing Iskoort.

  But if they got close enough to Ax, then would come the flechette guns, the Dracon beams, and the knives.

  I steadied my thoughts. Control. Control.

  The morph continued. My skin began to erupt in pustules, blisters that formed all over my body, then burst and oozed out black glue.

  I looked down and saw my stomach pinching, like I was being cut in two. Like I was morphing an ant or some other segmented insect. Just as the pinching looked as if it would go all the way and the top of my body would topple like a chopped tree, long, flexible threads - elastic blood veins - shot out, connecting the two halves of me, upper and lower.

  For a horrible moment I could actually see the white bone of my human spine. The interlocking vertebrae melted and reformed as thick, steel-gray cylinders, each able to turn on its base.

  Then my center filled in, hiding the spine and the elastic veins and tendons.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. No one needs to see that happening to their body.

  I saw my hands change color, the fingers covered by the black-on-red pustules, the cooling

  129 lava flesh thick and hard. I still had four fingers and a thumb. But now, from my wrist, the claws grew. Retractable, like a cat's claws.

  My legs creaked and groaned as bone thickened and twisted. My ears melted into my head. My eyes widened, growing larger and flatter.

  My senses began to change. The differences were not as severe as many morphs I've been through. But more complete than I'd expected. I wasn't seeing just shape and color anymore. I was seeing infrared heat. I was seeing trails, like the ones your mouse cursor leaves on the cornputer screen. It allowed me to follow movement and direction more closely.

  And then, with a shock, I realized I could see through the outer layers of skin. I could see faint outlines of Marco's gorilla heart.

  Of course. All the better to target vital organs.

  The robin's egg blue-in-blue eyes were far beyond human eyes. Beyond even hawk's eyes. These were target-acquiring eyes.

  Suddenly, I felt it bubble up from beneath my own consciousness. I had expected rage. I had expected out-of-control violent urges. I felt neither. Instead, I felt. . . indifference.

  There was no Howler instinct to slaughter. It wasn't anger. That wasn't how they were built.

  Crayak had been more subtle than that. I had

  130 expected the Howler morph to be like morphing some superpredator. But the morph this reminded me of most was the dolphin.

  Howlers were playful.

  Howlers were having fun.

  «You can let me go,» I told Rachel and Marco.

  «Are you sure?»

  «Yeah. This thing isn't out of control. It's like ...

  And then I felt something I had never felt before. Some strange part of the Howler brain, like an extra sense. My brain had tapped into a pool of awareness, of knowledge.

  Rapid, dizzying flashes of memory. Horrifying images of slaughter, violence. Not just the Graf-fen's Children. But species after species. Planet after planet. I was getting the full, horrific imagery that Erek had absorbed in a different-way.

  But this was worse. This wa
sn't someone else's memory. This was my own. It was part of me.

  And through it all, the massacre of Graffen's Children, the slaughter of the Mashtimee, the Ron, the Nostnavay, and yes, the Pemalites, the Howlers felt no anger, no rage.

  But why should they?

  «It's a game,» I said.

  131 «What is?» Cassie asked. She had morphed to wolf.

  «The Howlers. The killing. It's a game to them. They're having fun. They're enjoying it. Like when dolphin leap into the air just for the fun of it and play follow the leader, it's a game.»

  «They're destroying entire races for fun?»

  «Yes. They don't know what they're doing. Cassie . . . they aren't adults. The Howlers are all children.»

  132

  «Here they come!» Tobias yelled. «Thirty seconds. If -»

  «Children, my butt,» Rachel said. «They're murderers!»

  «They're what Crayak made them,» I said. «They have a life span of three years. They have no mature phase. They don't reproduce; they're grown in a factory. There are no adult Howlers.»

  I looked hard at Erek. «Did you know?»

  "Before? No."

  «When you absorbed Howler memories, did you realize they are children?» I demanded.

  "They slaughtered my creators," Erek said stonily.

  133 «Crowd is thinning out, Ax-man!» Tobias yelled. «They're gonna have a shot!»

  «So what, we let them walk away, just because they're not adults?» Marco demanded.

  «It's not going to be up to us,» I said grimly. «lf the plan works, Crayak will -»

  «It's not just Crayak,» Cassie said. «We're the ones forcing the -»

  The sound of flechette guns, in the street outside our door, only a dozen feet from us.»

  «Aaahhhh!» Ax cried in pain.

  «He's hit!» Tobias yelled.

  "Juveniles or adults, they massacred my creators, they made refugees of the Chee, they murdered my world," Erek said through gritted teeth.

  «No choice, man,» Marco said.

  «They don't know,» I said. Was I pleading? What did I think we could do? It was too late. Them or us. Them or the entire Iskoort race.

  But they didn't know what they were doing! They didn't know! My head was swimming. The Howlers were what someone else had made them. How do you hate a creature for doing what it has been taught to do?

  I had gloated when that Howler fell to its death.

  And now no choice! No choice!

  «Places,» I ordered. «Get ready.»

  134 Marco, Cassie, and Rachel all moved swiftly into place. Erek, too. Guide stayed close.

  WHAM!

  The door blew back on its hinges. Ax stumbled, bleeding, into the room.

  The first Howler was two seconds behind him. He bounded into the room.

  Rachel, Marco, and Cassie hit him, simply barreling into him.

  Erek snatched up Guide like the Iskoort was made of feathers. He jumped to the door. Guide clung to Erek's neck, terrified, as Erek filled the doorway.

  The first Howler kicked with shocking power and sent Rachel stumbling back. A swipe of his arm, with retractable claws down, ripped red lines in Cassie's side. She fell. He aimed his flechette gun. Marco hit him from behind. His aim went wild, ripping a line across the wall and up onto the ceiling.

  The pursuing Howlers stopped abruptly at the doorway. All together they might dislodge Erek. But Erek was holding Guide.

  The rules of engagement! The Howlers could not kill an Iskoort!

  The first Howler spun and nailed Marco with a fist. Not till he pulled back did I realize that fist had held a knife. The handle now protruded from Marco's stomach. He stared at it, disbelieving.

  135 And now the Howler steadied his flechette gun, ready to finish Rachel off.

  "No!" I yelled.

  The Howler looked at me and blinked.

  "Forget them! This way!" I ordered.

  The Howler was trying to clear his head. He recognized me. But he knew I was dead. Wasn't I?

  "Their leader, over here!" I said, desperately hoping against hope he'd buy it. I took off at a trot.

  The Howler followed. I almost collapsed from relief.

  I stopped suddenly. The Howler stopped, too, wondering what -

  I hit him. Once, twice, three times, each blow aimed with Howler eyes, each blow directed at weak spots that only another Howler would recognize.

  He was down. Barely.

  The other Howlers were solving the Erek and Guide problem. They were burning several new holes in the walls. Guide couldn't be in front of all of them. In seconds, the Howlers would be inside.

  «NOW!» I yelled in thought-speak. But Marco was unable to respond. He was transfixed, looking at the knife in his stomach.

  «Marco! The memory emitter! Now! He's getting up!»

  136 It was Ax, bleeding and staggering, who suddenly thrust the small, shiny device into my hand.

  I gave him a nod, took a deep breath, and slapped the probe onto the Howler's head.

  «Time for an education,» I said.

  The Howler glared at me with his dead blue eyes. He leaped up. He drew his Dracon beam weapon. He aimed it... nowhere.

  He shuddered. He started again to aim the weapon. Then he shuddered again.

  His eyes closed.

  I stopped breathing.

  Into the Howler's head flowed all the memories of my life. From vague, early images of my mother's face above my crib, to riding on my dad's back at some amusement park, to school, to friends, to all that had happened since we'd taken a shortcut through an abandoned construction site.

  All that I remembered of my life was flowing into the Howler's brain. And the lives of Cassie and Rachel and Marco and Ax and Tobias. And even Guide. And the long, long memory of the android who called himself Erek.

  All that we were emptied into that Howler's head. And from there would flow into the endless pool of collective Howler memory.

  «Is it working?» Cassie wondered.

  137 Suddenly, the Howler disappeared. He was simply gone.

  The Dracon beams no longer burned against the walls of the room.

  Erek stuck his head out through the door. "They're gone," he said.

  Marco yanked the knife out of his stomach and began to demorph.

  In the time it took him to pull it out, we went from that small Iskoort room to a very different place.

  138

  He was huge.

  No arms. Arms were irrelevant to him.

  He sat on what might have been a throne, or might have been a part of him, I couldn't tell.

  Machine? Creature? Both?

  Or something that was neither.

  He turned his single, huge, bloodred eye and looked down at me.

  I was on my knees. Human again. Hard steel beneath me. Darkness all around. But I felt a hand touching mine.

  The others were with me, too. With me, cowering beneath the seething evil creature called Crayak.

  139 I met his gaze. I closed my eyes, but I could still see him looking at me. As he had watched me, mocking, in my dreams.

  "We meet at last, face-to-face," Crayak said, in a low voice that vibrated uk through the floor, through the air, a voice so low that it seemed it would shake my very atoms apart.

  I kept my eyes turned away, though it did no good. I wanted to stand, but I couldn't. I was shaking. My teeth were chattering.

  "What? Not so brave now, little Jake?" he mocked. "Look at you, all of you, cowering! Are you frightened?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, I am," I admitted in a weak voice. "But we won."

  And then there was a laugh. A laugh that was as powerful as the awesome dread that flowed from Crayak.

  The big red eye snapped up, away from me. I breathed again.

  The laughter continued, gathering force, louder and louder and more and more delighted.

  I turned and saw the Ellimist. He was in human guise, looking like a wise old man. No more his true face than Erek's fa
ce was true.

  "Humans," the Ellimist said, as if he were introducing us. "Five humans, an Andalite, a Chee."

  140 "It was a mistake allowing the Chee to escape from the doom of their Pemalite masters," Crayak said.

  "The Iskoort will live," the Ellimist said.

  The eye showed no expression. "The Iskoort will live."

  Then he looked at me. "Sleep well, human," he sneered. "I'll still be there in your dreams. And someday, when the time is right, you will suffer for this."

  I climbed to my feet, still holding Cassie's hand. I focused my mind on the Howler. And I began to morph.

  No one said anything till I was done. And when I was done, I opened my Howler mind to the collective memory that linked them all.

  I searched for the memories we had played for the Howler. I looked in the great memory pool for some memory of what had occurred on the Iskoort planet. Nothing. Some memory of us, of five humans and an Andalite and a Chee and Guide. But there was nothing.

  Crayak had destroyed the six remaining Howlers before those memories could poison the minds of all Howlers. He'd done what I knew - what I had hoped - he'd do.

  The Howlers had never been defeated. So they believed, but I knew that wasn't possible.

  141 Somewhere, somehow, someone had to have beaten them, at least once. Perfection was impossible.

  So if the collective memory had no trace of defeat, it could only mean that Crayak had destroyed his defeated Howlers before the memory of failure could infect them all.

  He might have done that many times over the millennia. Always keeping the Howlers' collective memory from any taint that might weaken their innocent evil.

  He had no choice. A collective memory was very useful for spreading battle tactics and experience. But it was a weakness, too. Crayak could not allow his murderous children to learn one simple fact: that their victims were not part of a game, but real people, with dreams and hopes and loves.

  Crayak had acted quickly. The memories of humans and Andalites, Chee, and Iskoort had not been allowed to infect the Howler memory. Nothing had gotten through . . .

  No. Not nothing!

  Sifting through the collective memory, through the unbroken chain of horror, I caught a single fugitive image, like a few seconds of film.