Animorphs - The Entire Series

Tree Bucket posted:

And Aximilli is a re-arranging of "maxilla," a bone that he presumably doesn't have.
And Marco's name is just his exam study strategy spelled backwards.

quote:

<What was that you said, Andalite? I must not have heard properly.>

<You heard me,> I said. Struggling to maintain control. <We accept.>

The visser's Luminar mouth split into its bright, crackling grin. Small plumes of smoke shot from its nostrils. <As I knew you would. One can always count on two things from Andalites: That they will adopt a sanctimonious moral posture. And that when it serves their purpose, they will quickly abandon that posture.>

Ax stepped nimbly away from the main station. The visser took his place and the Sea Blade shivered and hummed as the engines came to life.

<There are more coming!> Tobias said from his perch at one of the portholes. <And a group of Nartec are running back along the river.>

<Keep watching, Tobias,> I ordered.

<You may pilot the ship, Andalite,> the visser said now, allowing Ax to resume the pilot's position. <And one of you may take the weapons station.>

<Rachel,> I said.

<Um, Jake? I don't know how to run one of these ->

<Ax will tell you in private thought-speak,> I said. <Just play the part.>

Ax guided the ship away from the dock. Turned it and began to power down river.

<Marco? Can you close the outer hatch and hold it?>

<Maybe. Not when we get out into the ocean, though, dude. The water pressure ...>

<I don't think the visser knows the hatch is blown,> I said. <He didn't come from outside. He was aboard the whole time. If you can do it ...>

<What, this little sword in my stomach? I can do it>

Marco lumbered away.

<Where is he going?> The visser demanded.

<To remove the sword from his stomach,> I said calmly. <He would prefer not to scream in pain in the presence of a Yeerk visser.>

<How are we going to get through to the museum cave?> Cassie asked me.

<Ax, take her down, just enough to submerge us.>

<The hatch.>

<Ax. Just do it, please. And then, as we approach the barrier, instruct Rachel in blowing it open.> All that was in private thought-speak. In the open I said, <Fire when ready!>

<I give the commands on this ship!> the visser roared.

<Not to my people,> I shot back.

TSEEEWWW! TSEEEWWW!

The high-powered Dracon beams tore through the wall of rock surrounding the narrow tunnel.

<Cassie, Tobias. Keep an eye on the visser. And watch the exterior screens.>

<Oh, yeah.>

We powered along the river, just below the surface. Exterior cameras showed us the Nartec's macabre collection of seagoing vessels and peoples. A graveyard of Earth's cultures.

A history lesson I would have preferred to have missed.

A history lesson I would never forget.

We were alone in a Yeerk ship with Visser Three.

<Jake!> It was Cassie. <They're coming after us!>

<German U-boat,> Tobias added.

<Andalite! Fire!> the visser roared.

Ax said rapidly, <Rachel, you can target the pursuing ship's rudder without damaging the ship itself,> He gave her instructions. Rachel stabbed at the controls with her Trent Reznor nails.

<On my command,> Ax said calmly. He put the Sea Blade into a sudden starboard turn. The Uboat was at an angle to us, baring her stern.

TSEEEEEW!

We fired. The U-boat stopped, dead in the water.

The visser sneered. <Pity for the weak. An admirable character trait. It was Andalite pity that allowed us to emerge and begin the conquest of the galaxy.>

<Wall ahead,> Cassie reported.

TSEEEEWWW!

We blasted our way through the second rock wall.

Zoomed along the narrow pitch-black river, the sides of the massive ship scraping and gouging the muddy walls of the tunnel.

<One more,> I said privately. <And then, everyone be ready.>

Then in open thought-speak, <Prepare to fire. Fire!>

TSEEEWWW!

<Keep it up,> I ordered.

The beam burned through the water, sliced through living rock. Turned water to explosions of steam. <Prince Jake. There are several mechanically propelled, cylindrical objects coming at us from behind. They appear to be propelled by primitive electric engines turning small propellers.>

<Torpedoes!> the visser cried, seeing the display. <Three minutes to impact. We can easily outrun them. Maximum power, Andalite! We'll be in the open sea within seconds.>

<NO!> Private thought-speak.

<Jake! You okay man?> Tobias said.

<I'm fine, buddy. Ax. Kill the engines. Marco? Open the hatch.>

<Oh, man,> Rachel moaned.

The engines suddenly quieted.

The visser turned violently away from the control board. <You betray me?!> he roared. <I will incinerate you!>

Just then the wave of seawater exploded through the doorway and flooded across the bridge deck. The visser's burning feet were suddenly mere flesh.

<Interesting morph, Visser,> I said. <Does it work underwater?>

quote:

Water rushed into the room, an out-of-control surge of green seawater.

<Rachel! Grab Tobias!>

Tobias was in the most danger. Birds don't do well in the water. Rachel wrapped him in her powerful embrace, and the water swept over us.

I was swept into a bulkhead by the force of the water. Slammed, but softly.

Saw Cassie already upright and swimming through the water toward the outer hatch.

Saw the visser, demorphing as fast as he could.

Saw Ax seeming to walk through the water, his four hooves galloping almost comically.

Rachel powered by on main force.

The water stung my eyes. Filled my nostrils.

Deafened me, annihilated my sense of smell. The tiger did not panic - it was one cat that could swim - but I was scared just the same.

The surge of water relented once the bridge was filled with water. I could swim. But could I breathe?

How long till the torpedoes hit?

And how much damage would -

B-B-BOOOOMMMM!

B-B-BOOOOMMMM!

One, two torpedoes. Exploded!

The Sea Blade rocked. My eardrums were blown in by the concussion. I lost my sense of direction. Floated, lost, confused, into a half demorphed Visser Three. Pushed away.

The Sea Blade rolled sluggishly. Sinking!

Yes, bow down. I was sure. My tiger senses were not evolved for this, but still the tiger knew up from down. The Sea Blade was sinking.

SHSHSHWUUUUPPPP!

Suddenly I was out. Out of the ship. It fell away from me, two broken halves. Then the stern half snapped in half again.

I swam like mad, straight up. Up to the air!

My orange-and-black-and-white head burst through the barrier between water and air. I was still in Nartec territory. Still in the river that wound through the hideous Nartec museum.

I could see the looming bulk of the Japanese aircraft carrier. Those flyers had been my country's enemies. Now friends.

My mind flooded with that awful image: the men, the warriors, turned into stuffed, mounted displays.

I submerged and began to demorph.

As a hammerhead shark I swam through the falling rocks, the wreckage we'd made of the Nartec's defensive wall.

I found the others in similar morphs out in the clean, open sea. A gathering of sharks. And one orca, Cassie.

<Everyone here?> I asked.

<Yeah, we were just waiting on you,> Marco said.

<The visser?> I asked.

<I just echolocated,> Cassie said. <I saw what looked a bit like a giant squid. Leaving the vicinity of the cave entrance.>
<Heading which way?>

<Toward land,> Cassie said. <Toward land.>

The visser had survived.

But so had we. Barely. My own mistakes would keep me awake at night for a while to come. But I'd been in charge for a while, now. I'd gotten past thinking I would always be right. It's a war, I reminded myself. You did what you could, Jake. You tried to do what's right. You tried not to make it any worse than it had to be.

And you got everyone home alive.

We headed back toward shore, away from the nightmare world beneath the sea. Back toward our own gentler civilization.

<Filthy creatures,> Rachel spat. <Someone needs to wipe them out.>

<The Nartec?> Cassie asked.

<Who else? What they did to all those people? All those sailors? Those flyers back there? Filthy, sick creatures. As bad as the Yeerks.>

<I believe you overlook one fact,> Ax said.

<Yeah?>

<All those sailors back there, all those humans the Nartec ... defiled? Many of them have sunk in storms or hurricanes, or by the failure of primitive human technology. Many. But not all.>

<So?>

I knew where Ax was going. I said, <So the rest? Including those Japanese flyers? They were sunk. By humans, in human wars. Not by the Nartec. The weapons they used on us? Human weapons. We want to hate them for what they do? Maybe we should stop helping them do it.>

Rachel was silent for a while, then she said, <Okay, fair enough. But you know what? We win this war someday, get rid of the Yeerks, and everything comes out and all? We need to go back, show people what's down there, get busy.>

<Start a whole new war?> Cassie asked.

<No. Not to fight,> Rachel said softly. <To bury.>

<Amen to that.>

I said, <Let's get out of here.>

freebooter posted:

Tobias' time to shine. Next week: Ax goes into battle against the many-handed mutants that live in the caverns deep below the city.

quote:

I found the others in similar morphs out in the clean, open sea. A gathering of sharks. And one orca, Cassie.

Tree Bucket posted:

Do they get any worse than that?

freebooter posted:

Lmao. <What are you guys doing - I thought we were doing orcas this book?... ah, whatever, let's go home>.

They never get any more bonkers than this. There are certainly a few more coming up that IMO are more boring/stupid though, including one (Cassie Goes To Australia) that made me quit reading the series.

dungeon cousin posted:

Don't think I like that last conversation. The kids have already come to learn that war is hell. Would they really want to instigate one? And especially against a race that appears to be doomed?

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

haha i forgot that one

pile of brown posted:

Also does anyone else remember watching ghostwriter?

FlocksOfMice posted:

On reread I think the burial they're taking about is they want to give the humans a proper burial, but it isn't like they are gonna be able to get the corpses back without a war so like,

I don't even know, this book is just so weird and out of place

quote:

My name is Rachel.

There's a person in the Bible named Rachel. I don't know if my being called Rachel has anything to do with her. I doubt it. I've never seen my parents reading the Bible.

There's a Rachel on Friends. What's up with this season's stringy hair? Weird.

And there are, at any given time, approximately five Rachels in my school. At least two of whom are failing phys ed.

Maybe your name is Rachel, too.

It's a popular name. Lots of girls have it. Even girls who can manage to throw a basketball through a hoop from the foul line.

But I'm different from every other Rachel you've ever met.

And it's not just because the dorkier kids in school think I have a seriously bad attitude. Which I do. So what?

My being different from every other kid named Rachel is not necessarily a good thing. Or a bad thing. It just ... is.

Sometimes - very rarely - I wish I were just one of the thousands of Rachels out there living an average life. One of the mass of average kids in average middle schools in average, all-American towns. Actually, I wish that very, very rarely. I'm not thrilled with average. I don't do average well. It's only when I'm seriously exhausted that - for about half a second - I wish I were just an
ordinary Rachel. Like when I've been going on no sleep for forty-eight hours. When I've been slashing and shredding the enemy and leaking blood from my own gaping wounds until I can hardly breathe without it hurting. When the very thought of sleep seems totally foreign.

Sleep? Huh? I don't wish it after a typical, everyday kind of mission. Just after the really annoying ones. The ones where we lose more than we gain. The ones where we fail to do any serious damage to the Yeerks.

Then, I wish - for about half a second - I were nobody special.

That I'd never stumbled onto the tragic sight of a dying alien warrior prince.

That he'd never told us about the Yeerk invasion of Earth. That he'd never chosen us - me, my cousin Jake, my best friend Cassie, Jake's best bud Marco, and this shy, compelling kid named Tobias - to adopt the noble Andalite mission.

That he'd never given us the gift and curse of Andalite morphing technology. The ability to touch an animal and absorb its DNA, all for the purpose of becoming that animal when necessary.

To fight off the invaders. To stave off the fate that has befallen so many other worlds through-out the universe.
A fate worse than death.

Total subservience to a mind-controlling master race.

You know what really infuriates me? This powerful enemy doesn't even stand on its own two feet.

The Yeerks are a race of parasitic slugs. No ears, eyes, mouths. No arms or legs. Just gray, viscous flesh. And the repulsive ability - need, really - to attach their otherwise helpless bodies to the brains of sentient creatures. To slither into the head through the ear canal. To flatten, lengthen, press themselves into every crevice and wrinkle of the brain. Like clay being pushed into a mold.

And once there, to possess the person like a demon. Read all memories. Know all secrets. Control all movements. Basically use that host body for its own evil purpose. To capture more and more host bodies for more and more Yeerk parasites.

Without us humans - and without the Gedds and Hork-Bajir and Taxxons - the Yeerks are nothing on this planet. Fat, wormlike creatures swimming dully in a Yeerk pool. Blind. Deaf. Circling endlessly.

Problem is, they have us. Some of us, anyway. Some humans. Most Hork-Bajir. All Taxxons. One Andalite.

<Rachel?>

Now was not one of those times when I wished I were just an average, ordinary Rachel. Now I was ticked. And being ticked is one of the stand-out things about being me.

I do anger well.

<Rachel, if I might express an opinion I suspect will deeply annoy you ...>

"Spit it out, Ax."

Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill. Younger brother of Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul, the guy who dragged us into this war. Andalite. Our friend, too.

<I would be happy to comply. However, I cannot perform the action humans call "spitting" for the simple fact that at the moment I do not have mouthparts ....>
"What were you going to say, Ax?" Cassie, stepping in before I could do something stupid like

pop him one. You don't want to get into an unnecessary fight with a guy who sports a big ole blade on the end of a very fast-moving tail.

And I've been known to get into fights some people would call unnecessary.

<Prince Jake left no specific instructions in his temporary absence. I am of the opinion he would prefer us not to act without his knowledge.>

Jake was away for a few days. Visiting some relative of his, not mine. Tom stayed at home so at least Jake didn't have to face that whole "do I kill my brother to save my father" thing again.

Tom is a Controller. Which means he has a Yeerk in his head.

I groaned. "Look, Ax. It's an opportunity. We need opportunities. We don't pick and choose them like they're - like they're blouses on a rack. We take the chance. Even if it's got a few loose threads. Or a hole."

What was the problem? Why couldn't they see ...

<Rachel's right,> said Tobias, from his look-out perch in the rafters. We were in Cassie's barn. <We know Visser Three changes feeding places regularly. We have two, three days tops before we lose him again. It was luck I found his current site. I say we do it. Try to take him down.>

"Gotta agree with Bird-boy on this, Ax-man," Marco said. "You feel you can't act without a direct order, you can sit this one out."

<I will be there,> Ax said quickly.

"Cassie?"

"Honestly, I'd rather wait for Jake. But I'm in. And I know the perfect morph for the job. The Gardens just got three cheetahs as part of their new breeding program. You know, they're almost extinct."

"Why cheetahs?" I asked.

"Speed. You want to grab the visser quickly, before his guards can react," Cassie explained.

"You want to outrun him in an open space. And pretty much nothing outruns a cheetah."

I grinned. This was cool.

The bad missions, I hate. But I'm never happier than when starting out on an important mission - especially one that was going to be so easy.

quote:

Tobias led us to the visser's new temporary feeding pasture. The five of us flew out, careful to keep the red-tailed hawk in sight and careful to stay enough apart not to arouse suspicion.

Me in bald eagle morph. Cassie and Marco as osprey. Ax as northern harrier. In nature, these birds don't make a habit of hanging together.

The pasture was really a small valley, tucked away in the foothills of the mountains. Charming.

Lush green grass. Bright yellow wildflowers. Soft breezes.

The perfect place for the most evil being in this or any galaxy to claim as his own.

That was supposed to be funny or ironic or something.

As planned, we landed at various points on the perimeter of the valley. Four of us would morph to cheetah.

Tobias would stay hawk and act as lookout and guide, directing our assault.

<There it is,> Tobias said. <Right on schedule. At the far end of the valley. See how the air shimmers?>

Through the eagle's incredibly keen eyes I saw the visser's Blade ship. The cloaking device that had kept it hidden on its journey to the valley was lifting, revealing the grim, battle-ax-shaped vehicle, its two huge scimitar like wings flared out behind the main body.

The ship fairly oozed a sense of dark and evil.

<I'm going on record that I so do not like this,> Marco said from across the valley.

<Tough. Everybody, demorph!> I demanded. <We are going to take him down.>

I concentrated and felt the changes begin.

ZWOOOP!

I shot up from the ground, a sudden, bizarrely tall eagle.

Brown wings with a combined extension of six feet became my shorter human arms.

Deadly talons became harmless five-toed feet.

The eagle's white feathered head grew and sprouted long blond hair. Eyes widened and vision

blurred.

When I was done, I took a deep breath and thought: cheetah. Quite possibly the most gorgeous wild cat ever to roam the savannah.

Like time-release photography. The tawny, black-spotted fur of the cheetah shot out of my fingertips and crawled its way up my fingers, across my hands, up my arms.

Beautiful!

Thickening. Now down my legs. And across my broad feline chest, whiter fur with fewer spots.

I looked at Cassie, closest to me, and watched as black tear-tracks drew themselves from the inner corners of her golden cheetah eyes to the bottom of her top jaw.

Like a thick black Magic Marker being swept down a page.

Like a bandit's mask.

A tickling - and I could feel similar marks being drawn on my own feline face. Down from eyes that saw in a wide-angle view.

I dropped to my knees, ready.

BOOIIINNGGG!

My spine elongated. Became amazingly flexible. A spine that acted like a spring.

Coil. Stretch! Coil. Stretch! Allowing my back legs to push harder against the grass. My long, slender front legs to extend way out. To reach for my prey.

So that I could knock it down before strangling it.

POOOF!

My lungs, huge and powerful, inflated like a balloon.

Air!

Breathing had never been so ... easy. So satisfying. I drew enormous amounts of air into my lungs. Effortless. My huge heart pumped oxygen to every muscle in my body.

POP! POP!

The dewclaw. One on each front paw, but off the ground. Sharp. Useful for smacking down fleet-of-foot gazelles and other four-legged prey.

POPPOPPOPPOPPOP!

Other claws - blunt, hard, and non retractable - gripped the dirt. Nails like a dog's. Hard, sharp toe pads - natural cleats - pushed out from the bottom of my four paws.

Surefooted. This was traction Jeff Gordon would envy. I could turn, forty-five degrees, at full speed, fifty, sixty miles an hour, and not slide.

I was the professional athlete of felines.

One hundred and forty pounds of muscle and grace.

WHOOOSSSHHH!

My tail!

Long, half the length of my body, and muscular. Thick. Spots fading into stripes at the white tip. Unique markings, distinguishing me from every other cheetah.

My tail, an amazing stabilizer, helping my four-and-a-half-foot-long body maneuver during the crucial twenty-second chase.

Cut right. Cut left. Twist. Turn. All without slowing or falling.

I was built for speed. Not endurance, maybe. But oh, yes. Definitely speed.

Stunning speed.

Zero to forty-five miles per hour in two point five seconds.

From a point of rest. From sitting perfectly still.

Do you understand that kind of acceleration? I mean, can you even really imagine it?

And once the cheetah got going - top speed, between sixty and seventy miles per hour - it could cover almost one hundred feet per second.

Per second!

Okay, try this. Just put one foot in front of the other and walk off one hundred feet. It won't be exact but it'll be close enough.

While you're walking off those hundred steps, keep track of how long it takes you.

Probably about a minute, give or take.

Now, when you've walked off those hundred feet, turn and look back to where you started.

A cheetah would have covered that same distance in one second.

Almost like magic.

I'm here.

One second.

I'm there!

I survey my domain. I spot my prey.

I stalk.

I dash!

Like lightning!

I smack down my victim. I bite out its throat.

Visser Three didn't stand a chance.

This mission would count. This mission would matter. This time, they would bleed.

McTimmy posted:

Whoops, turns out it's some other random Andalite and they've just turned on their allies. What rotten timing.

quote:

Now was not one of those times when I wished I were just an average, ordinary Rachel. Now I was ticked. And being ticked is one of the stand-out things about being me.

I do anger well.

<Rachel, if I might express an opinion I suspect will deeply annoy you ...>

"Spit it out, Ax."

Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill. Younger brother of Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul, the guy who dragged us into this war. Andalite. Our friend, too.

<I would be happy to comply. However, I cannot perform the action humans call "spitting" for the simple fact that at the moment I do not have mouthparts ....>
"What were you going to say, Ax?" Cassie, stepping in before I could do something stupid like pop him one. You don't want to get into an unnecessary fight with a guy who sports a big ole blade on the end of a very fast-moving tail.

And I've been known to get into fights some people would call unnecessary.

Epicurius posted:

<Well, i'm back, although it took a while> thoughtspoke Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul to himself. <Fortunately, for all he thinks he knows about Andalites, Visser Three never knew we were immune to being eaten by that alien he morphed into. I need to find those human kids and let them know the foolproof plan I've come up with that will drive the Yeerks off earth forever. But I need to recover and have something to eat first. I'm so weak that if I were attacked by, oh, I don't know, one of Earth's Big Cats, I would certainly die and Humanity and the Andalites would both be doomed. Fortunately, I'm in North America, and not the plains of Africa, so I should be fine!>

Epicurius posted:

So, one thing I do like here is the description of the morph, and what being a cheetah "feels like" and what it can do. The books have gotten away from that, but Smith does it well.

pile of brown posted:

I'd assume a lot of the ghostwriters got a paragraph about the series and a paragraph about each main character and never read the rest of the series. The ghostwriter books rarely refer to past events except in a very plot synopsis way.

Also does anyone else remember watching ghostwriter?

quote:

<Here he comes,> Tobias warned. <Every-body in place. He's moving toward the door of the ship. Almost ... almost there ...>

Visser Three, in his stolen Andalite body, the only Yeerk ever to have forced an Andalite to be his host, stepped through the doorway of the ship. He surveyed the valley. Then he nodded to the four Hork-Bajir who flanked the ramp and descended.

<Wait until he's, like, ten, fifteen yards away from the ship,> I said. <Then we hit. One right after the other. First me. Then Ax. Then Marco. Then Cassie.>

<Okay, Xena,> Marco said. <You want to run this show, fine.>

<This morph wants to break out,> Cassie said. <I'm ready.>

The four of us surrounded the visser. Crouched low in the gently bending grasses and wildflowers of the valley.

The plan was to take him down. To attack with deadly speed and accuracy. Four lean, powerfully muscled Earth hunters against one alien prey. Ha! By the time the Hork-Bajir guards could take ten steps from the ship, Dracon beams leveled, the visser would be dead.

Closer. Head held high, Visser Three stepped off the ramp and onto the grass. Testing its flavor through his Andalite hooves. Finding it good.

Nodding and walking more boldly onto the field. Until ...

<Now!> Tobias cried.

I sprang.

Up and out of the protective covering of the long grass. Zero to forty-five mph. Two point five seconds.

It was true. Every unbelievable fact I knew about this cat was true!

I shot toward the visser. His four eyes faced forward, but not for long. He saw me coming, on his left. At least, he saw something. A blur.

He stopped. Began to turn sharply right and -

WHACK!

I hit his rear left leg with my right front paw! He stumbled. I ducked away from his bladed tail and reached out again.

WHACK!

He was down! On his knees!

Good. I was already tiring. Just slightly.

The visser stumbled to his feet! Okay, he was tougher than a gazelle. No problem because ...

Ax!

Unreal! My wide-angle vision caught a golden blur on my left - and then another on the right.

And another.

I raced again after the visser.

We circled him. Four powerful, swift cheetahs running dizzying circles around one scrambling Andalite, frantically kicking up clods of grass and soil, his tail blade thwacking only air.

We were going to do it!

We were going to take him down!

One of us - just one of us - had to slip in under that Andalite tail, smack him down, go for the throat ...

<Hork-Bajir!> Tobias called.

TSEEEW! TSEEEW!

Dracon beams whizzed past us. We dodged them without really trying.

<We're too fast for their weapons!> I crowed.

<But once we slow or stop, we are vulnerable,> Ax said, slinking closer toward the visser, causing him to slide and stumble.

<And the cheetah's tiring,> Cassie said.

I felt it, too. The cat was almost ready to collapse. Its endurance was almost gone.

<Only the four Hork-Bajir,> Tobias called.

<Then we take our chances, now!> I commanded. <On the count of three we dive for the visser and ...>

<AAAHHHH!>

One of us had been hit! Slashed by a bold Hork-Bajir guard who'd rushed us, too suddenly for Tobias to have anticipated. Blood poured from a nasty wound on the cheetah's back.

<I'm hit!> Marco.

SLASH! Another Hork-Bajir, dropping his Dracon beam, throwing himself into the fight. We would be fatally lacerated in moments! No way could blunt nails and a dewclaw do real damage to the tough, leathery skin of the Yeerk shock troops. Before our teeth could reach their throats we'd be sliced luncheon meat.

<Finally! You imbeciles!> the visser screamed.

No choice. I batted a Hork-Bajir. Missed. Tried to strike again. My lungs felt as if they were about to collapse.

SLASH! SLASH!

<RACHEL!> Tobias cried.

I slunk rapidly away from my attacker, blood streaming into my eyes. Saw Marco and Ax and Cassie valiantly defending our prey - the visser - and failing. Panting, practically dragging themselves along the torn-up ground to avoid another Hork-Bajir swipe.

We were losing!

No.

<Once more!> I shouted. <Grab ...>

WHOOOOOOSSH!

I fell, face forward, tumbled hind legs over head. I was hit! Hit by ... something. Knocked over hard by the blast of wind that followed in its wake.

Whatever it was.

quote:

WHOOOOOOOSSH!

I climbed to my feet.

Tried to leap after it.

Where was it? There!

Only air!

THUUMPF!

I fell again.

WHOOOOOOSSSH!

<I can't even see it!> Cassie cried.

ZZIIIIISSSSPPP!

<See what?> asked Marco. <A-uumpfh!>

In seconds - if that - it had us herded into blind, panting, tangled cluster. Four incredibly fast, incredibly agile hunters, subdued.

The thing made me think of pulled taffy.

Or of a cartoon depiction of speed.

You know, where the cartoon character's skin stretches as he strides faster and faster - until his skeleton runs right out of its skin suit.

That's where this thing belonged. In a cartoon. Where the impossible is possible.

An impression. A flash. A blur.

A small whirlwind or tornado.

And then it stopped. Suddenly.

Came to a dead clean halt. No slowing down. Just - stopped.

<What the ...>

It was a creature. Now I could see that clearly. Not a machine but flesh and blood.

A bizarre creature able to zip across the grass like a high-speed insect.

Like a bullet fired from a thirty-thirty. A hunting rifle.

Only about as tall as a gazelle.

Four lanky, skinny legs. A thin but strong-looking tail, as long as its body, that flicked and twitched even when the creature's legs weren't moving.

A pigeon chest, high and rounded.

A head shaped like a custom-made aerodynamic bike racing helmet. Tight curved face, like half a smooth ball. Skull that swept back from the rim of this ball into a pointy triangle. Like an ice cream cone on its side. Except the cone was flattened.

But what really caught and held my attention was the fact that this thing was covered in blue fur.

And had no mouth.

And sported two thin, weak-looking arms.

Like an Andalite. Like Ax.

<Bail! Just go!> Tobias called frantically. <I'll distract it.>

But Tobias didn't have to distract it. The creature suddenly left us and appeared at the bedraggled visser's side. In the time it took to blink.

<Now!> I cried.

We ran, fear and the dregs of adrenaline helping the exhausted cheetahs to relative safety, scattered throughout the thick woods surrounding the valley.

We got away only because the creature had let us. I knew that.

And I didn't like it one bit. It made me angry. More annoying, it made me nervous.

Why had it let us get away?

We demorphed, on our way to our usual bird morphs for the trip home.

And we listened to the creature speak with Visser Three.

Thought-speak. Superfast.

The words became clear a beat after the creature had stopped speaking. A time delay between sound and meaning. Kind of like when you talk on the phone to someone in Europe. Or any other continent, I guess.

<Apatheticdisplay,VisserThree.Youarechaseddownonaplanetyoushouldlongagohaveconquered.Thiswillgoinmynotesyoucanbesure.>

<You, too, failed to capture the Andalite bandits, Inspector,> the visser sneered. Loudly.

<Depriveyouofwhatisyourdutyandresponsibility? Andmyenjoymentinwatchingyoufail?Finally,youwilladdressmeasCouncilorThirteen,Visser.>

<You're not a member of the council, yet. Not until you have received final approval,> the visser stated flatly.

The inspector made a sound that could have been a laugh. High and trilling. A sound that sent chills up my temporarily human spine.

<Ihavebeengivenaspecimenofournewestandmostcapablehostspecies.TheGaratron.Iwillnotfailtobepromoted.>

Kneeling on the dark soil, my back bent, hair hanging down over my face, a twig imbedding itself into the skin of my right palm. A human palm.

Still feeling, strangely, some of the cheetah's exhaustion.

But it was too dangerous to delay. I took a deep breath and rushed right into the next morph. In what seemed like seconds, I had brown-and-white feathers, massive wings, a hard, cruel beak.

I was a bald eagle.

<Everyone?> I called privately. <Take off, one at a time. I'll go last. Tobias first, Ax, Marco, and Cassie. Meet back at the barn.>

<Rachel?> It was Tobias. <I'll wait for you.>

Bobulus posted:

Catching up after a busy week, I'm deeply confused by the Atlantis reveal from the last book.

With the ships from multiple oceans and, you know, what's supposedly a Mediterranean island existing near California, I was assuming the 'aliens' has some sort of space-warping technology. You know, sci-fi 'tunnels' to every ocean. Also I think an early chapter mentioned that the sea blade was shoved into a hole much smaller than it was possible for it to fit? I figured they'd have to figure out the tech to escape.

Yet this didn't come into play at all in the later chapters and the people don't even seem to have tech of their own, just salvaged boats.

(And also, if they're so technologically-starved that they have no industry of their own, why does Jake think that they're going to be able to unlock the computer security on a ship that an Andalite is unable to bypass?)

quote:

A head shaped like a custom-made aerodynamic bike racing helmet. Tight curved face, like half a smooth ball. Skull that swept back from the rim of this ball into a pointy triangle. Like an ice cream cone on its side. Except the cone was flattened.

freebooter posted:

TheGreatEvilKing posted:

Is it me or does Rachel's chat about demons and the bible seem very out of character?

TheGreatEvilKing posted:

Is it me or does Rachel's chat about demons and the bible seem very out of character?