Animorphs - The Entire Series

Epicurius

Dec 24, 2020 20:18

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 9

quote:

"My name is Captain Torrelli. I am in charge of security for this facility."

We were in a very small, very airless, very brightly lit room. There were no windows. And whenever the door opened you saw a guy in an Air Force uniform.

A tough-looking guy in an Air Force uniform.

A tough-looking guy in an Air Force uniform, cradling a small machine gun.

There was also a bulletin board. On it were small posters reminding everyone that "Security is our business." And exhorting everyone to tolerate "Zero Defects."

But there was also something more familiar that caught my eye. One of the little flyers was for The Gardens. The Gardens is the big combination amusement park and zoo where my mom is one of the vets. Below the flyer was a sign-up sheet, bearing a lot of names.

Did they take them into the break room?

quote:

"Hi, Captain," Marco said. "How's it going?"

The captain glanced over at the lieutenant who had picked us up. The lieutenant just shrugged.

"Now look, kids, maybe you don't realize it, but you're in trouble," the captain said.

"Yes, sir, we realize we made a big mistake," I said. "It was totally an accident. We didn't even know there was anything back here in the Dry Lands. And boy, we'd never, ever come back again if you let us go, that's for sure."

I smiled innocently. I nudged Rachel and she smiled innocently as well. I prayed that Marco would get a clue and smile innocently so we could just -

"So. Where do you keep the alien?" Marco asked.

So much for Marco getting a clue.

The captain pressed his lips tightly together until they turned pale. Then he said, "Look, kid, this is an Air Force installation. We don't discuss what we do here, but I am authorized to tell you one thing: There are no aliens here!"

"Yeah, right. Sir," Marco snorted.

"What's your name, son?"

"Um ... Mulder. Fox Mulder."

"Well, you are in a world of hurt, Fox Mulder. You have violated federal law. You could be thrown in prison!"

"Sir?" I interrupted. "Please just ignore Mar-I mean, Fox."

"Yeah. He's an idiot," Rachel added.

"He just likes to annoy people. We're just kids, you know. We didn't mean any harm. Couldn't you just give us a warning?"

"A very stern warning, even," Rachel agreed.

"Normally that's just what we'd do," the captain said. "We do get our share of Looney Tunes and crackpots out here." He looked directly at Marco as he said "crackpots." "However, we have ourselves a little mystery here. See, none of you is wearing shoes. The lieutenant's men searched the area - no shoes. And it is physically impossible to have walked across all that undergrowth and through those rocks without shoes."

"So we're busted for not having shoes?" Rachel asked.

"Look, what's the big deal, sir?" Marco asked. "If you have an alien here, why not just tell everyone?"

The captain gave Marco a long, hard stare. "I want the three of you to write down your names and your parents' phone numbers on this piece of paper." He shoved a clipboard at Marco. "We're gonna call your folks. Maybe they'll appreciate your sense of humor."

I watched over Marco's shoulder as he wrote down "Fox Mulder." Then he followed it by a phone number.

Rachel identified herself as Dana Scully.

Then it was my turn. And I drew a total blank. See, I don't really watch X-Files. The captain stared at me as I held the pen poised over the paper and sweated.

What name? What name?

"Don't you know your own name?"

"Um ... sure. It's ... Cindy! That's it, Cindy. Cindy ... Crawford."

Marco stared at me. Rachel stared at me. I wrote down the name with a trembling hand and then wrote in some random numbers.

The two officers left. There was a loud click from the lock closing.

So does Captain Torrelli not know anything about popular culture?

quote:

"Cindy Crawford?" Marco demanded. "What are you, nuts?"

"Me? Me? How about you?"

"Every guy in the country knows who Cindy Crawford is!"

"We have to get out of here. Fast!" Rachel said. "I gave him the phone number for Pizza Hut delivery."

"I gave him the number for the Sports Scoreboard recording," Marco said.

"I just gave him one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight!" I said.

"Eight? You gave him eight numbers?" Marco laughed. "Remind me not to ever be a spy with you. Now how do we get outta here?"

"I can morph to grizzly and-" Rachel started to say.

"No!" I cried. "These are good guys and, as far as we know, they're not Yeerks! We can't hurt anyone! We need something small enough to get out beneath the door. I say housefly."

"I hate doing flies," Rachel shuddered.

"Ant?"

"No way."

"Cockroach?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay. I'll do cockroach."

Marco looked at her, mystified. "Flies gross you out but roaches don't?"

But Rachel and I were already busy morphing and Marco had to hurry to keep up.

This time the floor didn't rise toward us. It leaped! And the changes didn't involve the gentle, rather lovely transformation of skin into feathers.

This time the transformation started for Marco with antennae. Two huge, long, spiky antennae shot straight out of his forehead.

SPLEEET!

For Rachel the change began with the legs. The middle pair of legs. The ones that grew right out of her chest.

"Yah!" I yelled, even though I knew what to expect more or less. Still, seeing antennae come popping out of a friend's head and hairy, articulated legs from your best friend's chest ... well, it is gross. But I wasn't able to really focus too much on them. Because I was becoming distracted by the fact that one-foot squares of linoleum now looked as big as a front lawn. And by the fact that I could hear the sound of every bone in my body dissolving into mush. And by the fact that my skin was turning hard and smooth.

SPLOOOT! Legs popped out of my chest.

SPROUT! Antennae zoomed out of my head.

My own legs shriveled. I fell forward! I stuck out my hands to catch myself, but I no longer had hands.

"I've changed my mind," Rachel started to say jokingly. But whatever she had wanted to say next was lost because her pretty, human face turned hard and bronze, and her mouth split into the clicking mouthparts of a roach.

<What I was going to say was, "I've changed my mind, roaches are grosser than flies,"> Rachel said.

And that's when we felt vibrations through our antennae. The heavy vibrations of footsteps.

Angry footsteps.

It took some practice to use roach senses well enough to understand speech. But we'd had practice. So we were able to hear the captain saying, "Pizza Hut, eh? I'll show the little monsters some Pizza Hut!"

<Move it, boys and girls!> Rachel cried with the giddy enthusiasm she always has when facing certain death.

<RAAAAID!> Marco yelled.

<Really funny, Marco. Really funny,> I muttered. <Can we just get the heck out of here?>

Air movement! Vibration! Wind! The scent of humans!

The door had been opened. It swept over our heads. We each motored our three pairs of legs. We were out of there!

I still can't get over the idea that they got away with that.

Chapter 10

quote:

ZOOOOOOOOM!

We blew across highly polished linoleum squares.

My six legs motored insanely, my antennae waved wildly, my every cockroach instinct screamed, Run! Run! Ruuuuun!

So we ran.

Not that we exactly had any idea where to run.

<Where are we going?> Marco yelled.

<How would I know?> Rachel cried.

<Head for daylight!> I screamed.

<How do we tell daylight from plain old lights?>

 I tried to think of how a roach would know the difference between daylight and plain old interior lights. Of course! Roaches are startled and scared by lights. The brighter the light, the scarier it would be.

<Run toward whatever scares your roach brain worst!> I yelled.

<Oh, swell. This stupid bug brain is already scared to death.>

Vibrations! Lots of them. Big, heavy, earth-shaking. We're talking VIBRATIONS!

Through the muddy, fractured, nearsighted roach senses I saw, or at least felt, massive things falling from the sky. It was like someone was dropping trucks all around me!

Footsteps! Shoes the same size as double-wide trailers!

WHOOOMPF! WHOOOMPF! WHOOOMPF!

<Look out! There's people walking on us!> Marco yelled.

WHOOOMPF! A monster killer shoe came down from the sky and slammed into the floor just an inch ahead of me. But the roach brain had reacted just in time. The roach brain knew how not to get stepped on.

<Let the roaches handle this!> I said. <The roach brains are good at this.>

WHOOMPF! My roach body scurried out of the way, barely avoiding the side of a heel that would have squashed me flat and dead in a split second.

<Daylight! I think I see daylight!> Rachel cried.

<Lead on!> I dimly perceived Rachel's roach morph ahead of me. And Marco was just beside me. All together, three scared-as-heck roaches blew toward a bright light.

Suddenly there was a ridge. Pretty high to me, even though it was probably not even an inch high. It was the transom of a doorway, I realized, and I knew one thing: I really wanted out of that building.

<Tobias!> I called out. <Can you hear me? Are you up there?>

<Yeah. Where are you?> he asked. <And what are you?>

<We are three lost little cockroaches in a big hurry!> Marco said.

<Got you!> Tobias said.

<Thank goodness for those hawk eyes,> Rachel said. <Now get us outta here!>

<Keep moving and try to bunch up together. And by the way, there's a column coming your way. A column of ... vehicles.>

Something about the way he said "vehicles" should have alerted me. But all I could think about was getting close to Marco and Rachel so Tobias could pick us up.

We were on concrete now, and moving slower. When you're bug size, concrete doesn't look smooth. It looks like you're running across an endless field of small boulders. Concrete kind of glitters. At least that's how it looked to my cockroach senses.

And another thing about concrete, at least concrete with the sun beating down on it: It's hot!

<I'm gonna fry!> Marco wailed.

<Oh, man, it's hot! I didn't think bugs could feel temperature this much,> I said.

<Tobias! Hurry up, man, we're seriously getting barbecued!>

Suddenly a shadow swooped down. I had to fight the urge to panic and run in a completely different direction.

Huge, rough-textured talons came hurtling down at amazing speed. The nails scraped along the concrete. One talon hooked beneath me and lifted me up, up, up.

<Yeeee-hah!> Marco yelled. <Red-tailed airlines.>

No more heat. No more concrete. I was up in the air, wind whipping ...

<Ahhhhhhhhhh!> I was falling! Tobias had lost his grip on me and I was falling, falling, spiraling, tumbling through the air.

How far I fell, I can't say. My cockroach morph can't see farther than a few inches. But it seemed as if I was falling a long time.

Falling ...

<Cassie!> Tobias yelled.

Falling ...

<Cassie!> Rachel echoed.

<What about Cassie?> Marco asked.



POOMPH!

I hit the ground. Dirt! It billowed up around me as I slammed into it.

But I was not hurt.

I was on my back. My legs pawed madly at the air. <How do you turn one of these things over?>

I asked. I felt ominous thunder rumbling up through the ground.

<Cassie! I see you!> Tobias yelled. <I'm coming for you, but Cassie, you have to move! I can't make it in time! You have to move now!>

His tone was not exactly reassuring. <What's happening?>

<It's that column, Cassie. It's coming right at you!>

<Column? Of what, troops? Soldiers?>

<No. Tanks.>

And then I realized that wasn't thunder I was hearing and feeling.

So, why are tanks on an air force base?

QuickbreathFinisher

Dec 24, 2020 22:42

I picked an incredible time to start rewatching the X-Files. Makes sense that a square like captain Torelli would have no idea who Fox Mulder is. Really drives home the "truth hidden in trash media" hypothesis of Fed Engagement.

E: merry Christmas! Was there a Christmas Animorphs ever? I don't remember that being addressed. Maybe because Jake and possibly Rachel are canonically jewish, but Marco and Cassie? they don't read atheist enough to not do Christmas. Tobias maybe because his aunt and uncle hate him. I don't remember a cozy winter Animorphs book though

GodFish

Dec 24, 2020 22:45

Epicurius posted:

So, why are tanks on an air force base?

To fight the aliens, duh.

Grammarchist

Dec 24, 2020 22:47

Epicurius posted:

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 9
So, why are tanks on an air force base?

Luftwaffe holdouts deep undercover, obviously.

McTimmy

Dec 24, 2020 23:18

This is probably the last book I remember anything about and it's almost entirely because of this interrogation scene.

Acebuckeye13

Dec 24, 2020 23:18

Morphing in the break room without even bothering to check for cameras sure is a choice, alright. Excited to see if that comes back to bite them!

Epicurius posted:

So, why are tanks on an air force base?

Most plausible scenario I can give you is the tanks were being transported as part of a test or an exercise, or they're actually APCs used by base security and Tobias and Cassie don't know the difference.

Comrade Blyatlov

Dec 24, 2020 23:21

They were on their way to New York City to fight Cloverfield

Acebuckeye13

Dec 24, 2020 23:32

Edwards also isn't far from Fort Irwin, which is the National Training Center is. (Basically where the Army sends units to go do fake combat for training using sophisticated laser tag setups). 82nd Airborne used the air-droppable M551 Sheridan until '96, which is roughly around the time this book takes place, and M551s were used as OpFor vehicles at NTC until 2003. So maybe these tanks had just been delivered and were about to be prepped for a mock combat drop at NTC? Which might be plausible???

I am putting far too much thought into this.

wizzardstaff

Dec 25, 2020 00:46

QuickbreathFinisher posted:

E: merry Christmas! Was there a Christmas Animorphs ever? I don't remember that being addressed. Maybe because Jake and possibly Rachel are canonically jewish, but Marco and Cassie? they don't read atheist enough to not do Christmas. Tobias maybe because his aunt and uncle hate him. I don't remember a cozy winter Animorphs book though

Honorable mention to the one where they go to the arctic and spend a night repeatedly near-dying of hypothermia every two hours before resetting in morph.

Cythereal

Dec 25, 2020 05:57

Acebuckeye13 posted:

or they're actually APCs used by base security and Tobias and Cassie don't know the difference.

This is my take. Tobias and Cassie don't seem like military hardware nerds, so they're probably calling anything with tracks and/or looks armored a tank.

Soup du Jour

Dec 25, 2020 12:33

Cythereal posted:

This is my take. Tobias and Cassie don't seem like military hardware nerds, so they're probably calling anything with tracks and/or looks armored a tank.

Book 14 but narrated by Jake has every single variant accurately identified

Epicurius

Dec 25, 2020 21:55

Hope everyone had a good Christmas, or at least not a terrible one. However, the Yeerk invasion doesn't stop for Christmas, so it's time for

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 11

quote:

<Cassie! Move!> Tobias cried as he plummeted toward me in a full-speed stoop.

 I motored my roach legs like a roach caught in a sink. But I was pawing the air. And the thunder was more than thunder now. It was like a
continuous, nonstop explosion.

BBBBRRRRRBBBRRRRRRMMMM! BBBBRRRRRBBBBBMMMMMM!

Wings! Wait! Roaches have wings. All I had to do was -

Too late!

<Cassie!>

Something blotted out the sun. I felt my little roach body pressed into the dirt. It seemed to last forever. The pressure was unbelievable! And yet ...

Suddenly I was up off the ground. But not free. I was stuck. Stuck to the tread of a tank, and going slowly around as the tread came around toward the front of the tank again.

I scampered my legs again, but now two of them were not moving. I was stuck faceup on a dirty treadmill. I would not survive another crushing by the tank tread.

I tried my left wing. No good. It was squashed.

I tried my right wing. Yes!

I flipped over, landed on my four good feet, turned a sharp left and ran like a lunatic for the edge of the tread. ZOOOOM! I fell! I hit the dirt and I ran. I ran and ran and ran without even thinking about stopping.

Tobias lifted me up from the ground, and I was still running with my four good roach legs.

Marco seemed to think the entire thing was hysterically funny, of course. He laughed for the next ten straight minutes as Tobias flew us away from Zone 91. And while Marco laughed, Tobias apologized for dropping me.

Tobias set us down outside the boundaries of the secret base.

We demorphed in a gully formed by a small stream.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked me, once she and Marco and I were all human again.

"Considering I was run over by a tank, yes, I'm okay."

Marco grinned. "I wish I could see the look on Captain Torrelli's face when he realizes we've all three disappeared."

Rachel punched Marco in the arm. "You moron! Why did you keep provoking him with all that alien talk? He would have let us go."

"Actually," Marco said, with no trace of his usual attitude, "he would not have let us go till he contacted our parents. And we couldn't have that, could we? So I deliberately provoked him because now he'll just write us off as another bunch of deluded wackos. If we'd seemed perfectly sensible he'd really wonder what we were doing there with no shoes."

Rachel glared at him suspiciously. But I knew Marco was right. Like I said, Marco's a clown sometimes, but he's not dumb.

Yep, Marco's not dumb.

quote:

"So now what?" Rachel asked. "It's getting late. We need to get home."

<You guys should morph as soon as you're ready. It'll be cooling down soon. Fewer thermals equals harder flying.>

I was starting to feel like an idiot. I was the one who seemed most concerned about the idea of Yeerks in horses. But we'd learned absolutely nothing. All we'd managed to do was get ourselves detained by the military police and almost squashed by a tank.

Rachel obviously was prepared to shrug off the horse-Controller idea. I think she halfway doubted we really did see that Yeerk crawl out of that horse.

The others were even more skeptical. And I could see their point: Our real problem was about Yeerks taking over humans. If they wanted to experiment with controlling horses, well, that was a pretty low priority.

 Tobias said. He was perched on a twisted, gnarled piece of dried up wood. <Everyone down. Hide till I see what it is!>

He flapped his wings and took off as Marco, Rachel, and I crawled down under a bush.

Unfortunately, it was a thorny bush.

"Oh, this is fun," Marco muttered softly.

<It's just some horses. It's okay,> Tobias called down from the sky above.

Marco started to crawl out from hiding. I grabbed his arm. "No. Wait," I hissed.

A half dozen horses climbed stiffly down the side of the gully heading for the water. They were led by a gray stallion.

"See? Horses. Now can I get this thorn out of my butt?"

I shook my head and put my finger to my lips. I watched the horses climb down. I looked closely for anything that looked strange or unusual. But they sure looked like any old horses.

Four of the horses lowered their big heads and began to drink. A fifth horse stood guard.

The sixth horse was a very nice-looking roan that almost looked as if she'd come from thoroughbred stock. This mare paused beside the horse, standing guard and almost seemed to be whispering in his ear.

Then, suddenly ...

PLOP! PLOPPLOPPLOP! PLOP!

The horse began to do what horses do. If you know what I mean.

"That horse is taking a dump," Marco whispered.

"Thanks for pointing that out, Beavis," Rachel said. "We wouldn't have noticed without you."

"Horse patties," Marco said. "Prairie pies. Heh-heh-heh-heh."

"That does it. I'm not sharing a bush with -" Rachel began to say.

"Shh! Look! Look!"

To my amazement, the horse who had been pooping stopped. The other horses looked over at her and neighed. I swear they were laughing.

And then the horse in question walked away, moved behind a tree out of sight of the other horses, and finished her business.

"A modest horse?" I asked smugly.

Rachel nodded. "Yeah. It does seem just a little weird."

We waited till the horses had finished drinking and moved on. Tobias flew down and landed beside us. I crawled out through the brambles and brushed myself off.

"I've never seen a horse hide behind a tree to do her business." I looked at Marco and Tobias. "Are you guys satisfied? These are not normal horses."

Wait, why would a Yeerk be concerned with modesty either? Maybe this one's been in people so long, it's picked up human notions of propriety? Still...

Chapter 12

quote:

The next day was Saturday. We met at my barn.

How do you spy on horse-Controllers? How do you observe the actions of a group of horses with Yeerks in their heads? That was the question.

"We morph horses, of course," I said as I pried open the jaw of the fox who'd been eying me hungrily when I was an osprey the day before. I popped a pill in his mouth, held it shut, and blew on his nose to make him swallow.

"Horses? Didn't you morph a horse once?" Jake asked me.

"Yes. I morphed one of our horses. It was amazing. But we have one problem: We only have the one horse here right now. She's got distinctive markings. And we can't exactly go walking around the Dry Lands looking identical."

"Identical horses," Marco mused. "Sweet Valley Horses. Hmmm. That could be a TV show."

We were all there together. All six of us, including Ax. Ax was in his human morph. Once again I was struck by just how weirdly handsome he was. It was strange how you could see little hints of Rachel, Marco, Jake, and me in him. There were some expressions, sometimes when he smiled, for instance, when it was like looking in a mirror and seeing a male me. It was a little creepy.

"Horses. Hore-hore-hore-sezuh," Ax said.

Marco spread his hands wide, palm up. "Is that it, Ax? Or was there more to your comments?"

"Horses are quadrupeds," Ax said. "Much more sensible than walking around perched on two rickety legs like humans do. Rickety. Rick-kuh-tee. Is that a funny word?"

"Yeah, 'rickety' is hysterical," Rachel said. "So, where do we find six different horses for us to morph?"

<The Gardens?> Tobias suggested.

I closed the fox's cage and wiped my hands on my jeans. "All they have at The Gardens are exotic horse breeds. We want horses who look like horses."

Mentioning The Gardens reminded me of the sign-up sheet at the base. Should I mention it? No, it probably wasn't important.

These kids need to learn that when they think something probably isn't important, it's important.

quote:

"How about one of the farms around here?" Jake suggested.

I shook my head. "Everyone around here knows me. If they walked in on us ..."

"The racetrack," Rachel said. "They have tons of horses out there. Usually a couple of dozen, at least. I've gone there with my dad. Last weekend, in fact. That's his idea of a cool place to take his daughters on visitation day."

"Did he let you bet?" Marco wondered.

"My dad placed it for me. Two dollars on Chase Me Charley to show. He came in second. I won three dollars."

I stared at my friend. You think you know everything about a person, then, suddenly, you find out something new.

"Humans bet? On horses? To see which is faster?" Ax asked. "What do you bet?"

"Money. What else?" Marco asked.

"Money. Ah, yes. Mon-nee. I always forget about humans and their money."

Jake looked at his watch. He was getting that slightly exasperated look he gets sometimes when no one is sticking to business. "Okay, look, we go to the track. No one bets. We acquire some horse DNA, then we fly out to the Dry Lands and spy on the modest horses."

"Again?" Marco moaned. "That's what we do every Saturday. When are we going to get to do something original?"

<Can I ask one question?> Tobias asked. <Why would the Yeerks be taking over the bodies of horses?>

"Good question," Jake said.

"It has to be about Zone Ninety-one," Marco said. "I mean, what is it, coincidence?"

"It may be about Zone Ninety-one, but not the way you think, Marco," I suggested. "Who knows what the Air Force is really doing out there? Maybe they're testing some new super-weapon the Yeerks are afraid of."

Ax laughed. "A human weapon that would frighten the Yeerks? That isn't possible. Sible. Pahsi- bull."

I felt a little insulted on behalf of the human race. But Ax was probably right. "Look, I just don't see where the Yeerks would care about some kind of alien ship that may be hidden out there. It's nuts. Unless ... unless maybe they don't know if the stupid conspiracy theory is true or not."

"I have to confess I don't really understand what you are all talking about," Ax said. "However, the Yeerks would know if there was something nonhuman anywhere on this planet's surface. Their sensors could do an analysis of the alloys. After all, the Yeerks are not exactly on the level of Andalites, but they aren't totally primitive. They would be able to detect the presence of alloys, plastic composites, or live metals - the sorts of things spaceships are built from."

I know Ax doesn't mean to sound condescending. But sometimes he ends up sounding that way just the same. Of course then he'll kind of spoil the whole Mr. Spock/Commander Data thing by saying something like: "Is wood tasty? Is it good to eat?"

"Yeah, but you want to use plenty of salt," Marco replied.

Jake looked troubled. "You know, it would be really bizarre if the whole conspiracy thing turned out to be true. I mean, what if the government really has been hiding some alien spacecraft out at Zone Ninety-one?"

"What is a Zone Ninety-one?" Ax asked.

"For one thing, I'd have to apologize to Marco," Rachel said. "But for another thing, maybe whatever it is they have hidden out there at Zone Ninety-one really could be used to penetrate the secrets of Yeerk technology."

"Well, guess we better find out," Jake said. "First stop: the racetrack."

"And what exactly is a racetrack?" Ax asked. "Zactly?"

Also, explain things to your alien friend, people!

Fuschia tude

Dec 25, 2020 23:33

Epicurius posted:

Hope everyone had a good Christmas, or at least not a terrible one. However, the Yeerk invasion doesn't stop for Christmas, so it's time for

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 11

quote:
<Cassie! Move!> Tobias cried as he plummeted toward me in a full-speed stoop.

That should be "swoop", surely?

quote:

quote:
"Identical horses," Marco mused. "Sweet Valley Horses. Hmmm. That could be a TV show."

Applegate and Grant got their start by ghostwriting Sweet Valley Twins.

Comrade Blyatlov

Dec 25, 2020 23:34

Stoop is another name for a dive.

Homora Gaykemi

Dec 25, 2020 23:37

Stoop Hawk's afraid to leave his swoop

Comrade Blyatlov

Dec 25, 2020 23:38

Swoop Hawk Stoops on a Sloop

freebooter

Dec 26, 2020 02:03

Correct me if I'm wrong but Captain Torelli - does he end up being on Jake's new team for the final mission in the very final book?

quote:

"Money. Ah, yes. Mon-nee. I always forget about humans and their money."

Andalite society confirmed as a socialist utopia

Tree Bucket

Dec 26, 2020 17:14

Captain Torelli's Man-deer-thing

Shwoo

Dec 26, 2020 19:53

There was an Animorphs reread podcast I listened to for a while where they treated Cassie's reaction to Rachel having won money at the racetrack as Cassie being very judgemental of Rachel's gambling. I always took that bit at face value, but is that really how it reads?

They had a lot of weird takes about the books, actually. I think I stopped listening around the Hork-Bajir chronicles.

freebooter posted:

Correct me if I'm wrong but Captain Torelli - does he end up being on Jake's new team for the final mission in the very final book?

I had to look it up, but that's Sergeant Santorelli, who's only five years older than Jake. The names are really similar, though.

Epicurius

Dec 26, 2020 20:01

Shwoo posted:

There was an Animorphs reread podcast I listened to for a while where they treated Cassie's reaction to Rachel having won money at the racetrack as Cassie being very judgemental of Rachel's gambling. I always took that bit at face value, but is that really how it reads?

I don't read it as particularly negatively judgmental. More like, "Wow, I didn't realize my best friend is acting so adult and wild.", if that makes sense?

What's the podcast, our of curiosity? There's this one I kind of like called "Morph Club", done by these two women, one of whom, I think, read the book as a kid and one who didn't. It was pretty fun.

Shwoo

Dec 26, 2020 20:10

I just thought Cassie was legitimately surprised that there was something she didn't know about Rachel. But I don't think I'd been exposed to the idea of gambling being evil the first time I read it.

And yeah, it was Morph Club. I stuck with it for a while, and enjoyed parts of it, but I guess there were a lot of little things about it that just rubbed me the wrong way.

Epicurius

Dec 26, 2020 20:22

Shwoo posted:

And yeah, it was Morph Club. I stuck with it for a while, and enjoyed parts of it, but I guess there were a lot of little things about it that just rubbed me the wrong way.

I like it. I don't always agree with them, but I like hearing different perspectives. Plus, they were just so enthusiastic, and I liked that.

QuickbreathFinisher

Dec 26, 2020 20:32

The morph club gals had some cute art as well. I was a little bummed the one didn't get to do the art for the comic, although I really enjoyed Chris Grine's work on the Invasion. I've been listening to Animorphin' Time after the one host mentioned it on the street fight radio call in show. Theyre a little ahead of this thread but it's been fun to reread along with them. They just did the second megamorphs.

I always thought it would have been cool if they had gotten a different artist for each of the six Animorphs in the cycle, to kind of play off the different tone of each narrator. That probably would have some logistical and storytelling issues unless they were like a council of Thirteen or something.

Epicurius

Dec 26, 2020 20:40

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 13

quote:

It wasn't far to the racetrack. We decided to fly. We all had seagull morphs except Ax and Tobias. We figured seagulls wouldn't be too obvious flying around the racetrack barns and paddocks. Whereas an entire sky full of birds of prey might be. So we all morphed seagulls, Ax did his harrier,
and Tobias stayed Tobias.

Flying as a seagull is the same as flying as an osprey in most ways. But in some ways it can be very different: You have to flap a lot more; you fly closer to the ground; and seagull brains have a different way of looking at the world than bird-of-prey brains. Seagulls are scavengers.

We flapped up and away from the barn, working our sharp-edged, swept-back white-and-gray wings. Ax and Tobias soared far overhead, watching the sky for other predators.

But for the four of us seagulls, the trip was all one long garbage dump.

<Look! A Butterfinger wrapper! I think there's some left!>

<Look at that Burger King Dumpster! Oh, man, it's loaded with french fries and leftover burger!>

<Oh! Oh! Oh! Cheese puffs!>

<No way! Someone threw out a half-eaten chicken leg! Extra crispy!>

<Wouldn't that almost be cannibalism?>

<Didn't we have this discussion before?>

<Hey, it's extra crispy. I love extra crispy!>

Now, yes, we could have struggled harder to control the seagull's mental obsession for anything even approaching food. But it would have been hard. And to tell the truth, it was kind of fun. Seagulls can spot food you wouldn't even think of. You'd be amazed the stuff people just throw away.

<Look! Out behind that Pappa John's. Pepperoni!>

Anyway, we eventually made it to the racetrack. Without actually pausing to scarf any garbage.

From the air the track was a big, long, dirt oval outlined with a white rail fence. There was a high, covered grandstand on one side, and various long, narrow horse barns stretching out behind the stands.

The parking lot was about half full with cars and trucks pulling horse trailers. There was a good crowd of people, up in the seats and milling around beside the track itself.

Out in the middle of the oval track was a big electronic tote board. It was already posting the odds for the first race.

<Anyone see a good place to demorph?> Rachel asked.

<There must be some empty stalls in those barns,> Tobias suggested. <Just fly in and land.>

<Or we could go check out the trash behind the clubhouse,> Marco suggested.

<Seagulls,> Tobias sneered. <You might as well be pigeons.>

I guess to a hawk, calling someone a pigeon is a pretty bad insult.

We swooped low and fast along the back wall of a barn. The stalls were in two long rows, opening out to the outside on one side, and into a long connecting hallway on the other side. Sure enough, about half the stalls were empty.

I turned a sharp left. Seagulls can turn amazingly fast. And shot ... ZOOOOM! ... straight in through an open stall door.

I landed on the dirty hay. <Looks okay in here,> I called to the others.

ZOOOM! ZOOOM! ZOOOM! ZOOOM! ZOOOM!

The others flew in and landed near me. Then we began to demorph. It was easy. No problem.

Just one slight difficulty we'd overlooked: When you demorph you have to return to your normal body. For Rachel and Jake and Marco and me that meant human.

But for Ax that meant Andalite.

He's a....really ugly horse?

Chapter 14

quote:

<Okay, everyone, demorph,> Jake said. <Tobias? You want to go human or stay as you are?>



See, you have to be in your original form if you're going to acquire a new morph. And, sad as it may be, red-tailed hawk is now Tobias's true body. Tobias flew off, keeping his wings tight in the narrowness of the barn.

I began to demorph. My swept-back white wings grew fingers. My tiny legs sprouted up and up and up. My yellowish beak spread and softened to become lips.

And one thing was becoming clear: Four kids and an Andalite are kind of crowded in a single stall.

Everyone was about ninety percent human, and Ax was about ninety percent Andalite, when suddenly, without warning, I found myself staring at two old, old men. One was chewing the end of a slobbery cigar. They were looking over the stall door.

"What the ... what are you kids doing in that stall? And what in the name of all that's holy is that?"

What they were seeing was four kids who seemed to be wearing leotards decorated with feathers. And one really, really unusual creature like nothing either had ever seen before.

"Ax! Keep your head down!" I hissed. I leaped to get between the two old men and Ax's tail.

In case you've never seen an Andalite in person before, and obviously, you haven't, let me explain. Andalites look like a weird cross between a deer, a horse, a scorpion, and a human. They have the bodies of slender horses or large deer, except that their fur is blue and tan. Their upper bodies seem almost human, until you get to the head, which is so totally not human you'd never mistake it. Like I said earlier, Andalites have no mouths. They eat by absorbing grass up through their hooves as they run. And they communicate telepathically with thought-speak. Plus, there's the whole eye thing.

Andalites have four eyes. Two are right where you'd expect them to be. The other two are at the end of flexible stalks atop their heads. You know the little hornlike things giraffes have? Picture those, only flexible. And with an eyeball at the end.

And finally, there's the tail. It's long and it ends in a scythe-shaped blade that could topple a tree faster-than-you-can-see.

The tail is what I was trying to hide from the old men. I could only hope that Ax would have the sense to keep his upper body lowered.

"I asked you kids what you're doing in that stall," the cigar man said, more sharply this time.

"Um ... grooming our horse?" I offered.

Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "Our horse? Oh, yeah, that's exactly what we're doing. Grooming our horse." She reached over and stroked Ax's back.

"Small for a horse," the second man said skeptically. "What are you feeding that poor swaybacked nag?"

"Horse food," Marco said.

"Horse food?"

"Yeah. um ... you know, horse food. Boy, you should see how many cans this guy can eat. Man, all day long I'm opening cans of horse food and filling his dish."

The two men stared. The cigar man moved his cigar to the other side of his mouth.

"Hah-hah-hah!" I practically screamed. "He's such a kidder! Of course we're not feeding our horse food from cans. We're feeding him alfalfa and hay. Like you'd feed any horse. My friend is such a joker! Total joke machine!"

"Plus he's a moron," Rachel added.

Horse food.

quote:

"Your horse is blue," the second man observed. "Never seen a blue horse."

"Never seen kids wearing feathers on their faces, either," cigar said. "And I've seen a lot of things in my time."

Jake was looking at me, waiting for me to come up with an answer. So was Rachel. So was Marco. Our "horse" was blue. There was no denying that. And yes, we had white-and-gray feathers sticking out of the sleeves and collars of our morphing suits.

"We like blue horses," I said lamely.

"Some day, all horses will be blue," Jake agreed.

"You kids step out of there. This ain't right. Not any part of this. Step out of there and let me see what -"

I felt, rather than saw, the twitch that ran through Ax's body.

"Ax, NO!" I yelled.

FWAPP! FWAPP!

He struck with his deadly tail! But not at the men. In less than a half-second he had sliced the overhead railing that framed the stall. He'd sliced right through it in two places. The railing, a chunk of eight-by-eight lumber, fell directly on the men's heads.

"Ahhh!"

"Owww!"

See, Ax just knew that it was going wrong. He wasn't even going to try.

quote:

"Run!" Jake cried.

We stumbled and piled over the two groaning men. Four kids and a very strange blue "horse."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of brown-and-russet feathers.

 Tobias said. <And what have you done?>

"Get them! Stop those kids!"

We were off and running between the stalls! Ax was morphing to human as he ran. I was finishing my demorph, losing the last of the feathers. Outside the barn, crowds of people were milling around, waiting for the first race.

"Get out of here. Out into the grandstand!" Jake yelled. "We can lose ourselves in the crowd."

Then, WHAM! A stall door flew open, right in front of me. It cut me off from the others. I dodged around it, but too slowly. Someone grabbed my ankle. I sprawled, facedown on the concrete.

"Cassie!" Jake yelled. He started back for me, but now there were people pouring into the barn.

Stable hands, jockeys, horse trainers, and owners, all worried about what we might have done to their horses.

I looked down. It was some teenager who had my ankle.

"I got one of them!" he yelled.

I didn't want to kick him. I didn't want to hurt him. He was just a guy, probably not a Controller.

"I got this one! I got this guy!"

Guy? Excuse me? Guy? I wasn't even wearing overalls or anything. Okay, maybe the workout suit I was wearing for morphing was less than stylish, but hey, guy?

Now I wanted to kick him.

WHAPP! I kicked his hand loose.

"Sorry," I said and scrambled to my feet. I looked around frantically. No Jake. No Rachel. No Ax or Marco or Tobias. All I saw was the back end of what looked like a small mob, chasing someone down at the far end of the barn.

I dodged behind the fallen teenager and threw myself into stall.

"Take it easy, boy," I whispered to the big golden stallion in the stall. "Take it easy. E-e-e-a-a-sy."

Normally animals love me. This one didn't.

"HhhhREEE-hee-heee-heee!"

I had two choices. Get out of that stall and be captured. Or stay in the stall and be trampled. So I chose option number three.

See, when you acquire an animal's DNA, it seems to put them in a kind of trance. They remain very calm. Which is how it's possible to acquire a grizzly bear.

So I pressed both my hands against the heaving flank of the big horse and I focused my mind. He grew calm and quiet. His DNA flowed into me. It became a part of me.

"One of 'em is still in this barn somewhere," I heard a voice say.

Well. If you want to be inconspicuous in a horse barn, what are you going to do?

Exactly. I started to morph the horse.

No way this won't go wrong.

Comrade Blyatlov

Dec 26, 2020 21:20

Horse food :allears:

Epicurius

Dec 26, 2020 21:40

Comrade Blyatlov posted:

Horse food

Marco knows many things, but not horses.

SirSamVimes

Dec 26, 2020 21:58

"Their upper bodies seem almost human". Centaur neighsayers gtfo. :colbert:

Soup du Jour

Dec 26, 2020 23:21

QuickbreathFinisher posted:

The morph club gals had some cute art as well. I was a little bummed the one didn't get to do the art for the comic, although I really enjoyed Chris Grine's work on the Invasion. I've been listening to Animorphin' Time after the one host mentioned it on the street fight radio call in show. Theyre a little ahead of this thread but it's been fun to reread along with them. They just did the second megamorphs.

I always thought it would have been cool if they had gotten a different artist for each of the six Animorphs in the cycle, to kind of play off the different tone of each narrator. That probably would have some logistical and storytelling issues unless they were like a council of Thirteen or something.

I'm assuming that Carey was too busy with The Adventure Zone novels? Otherwise she seems like an absolute shoo-in for doing some of the Animorphs GNs.

Also Morph Club rules and if you're looking for an Animorphs podcast it's a lot of fun and very chill.

freebooter

Dec 27, 2020 04:09

Epicurius posted:

"Some day, all horses will be blue."

New thread title please.

Also I listened to Morph Club for about ten episodes but can't remember whether I drifted away from it because my commute time was removed and so a lot of podcasts went by the wayside (this was actually slightly before COVID, but you all know how it is) or because they were clearly doing it over Skype and their audio quality wasn't great.

Shwoo

Dec 27, 2020 21:05

Cassie posted:

Well. If you want to be inconspicuous in a horse barn, what are you going to do?

Morph something small that you'd probably expect to see in that kind of environment, like a fly or maybe a cockroach?

Cassie posted:

Exactly. I started to morph the horse.

Cassie...

Epicurius

Dec 27, 2020 21:56

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 15

quote:

TA TA TA TA TATA TA TATA TA TA TA TAAAAH!

I heard the trumpet announcing the start of a race. And I heard the crowd outside in the grandstand murmuring in anticipation. But I had other things on my mind.

I had morphed a horse before. So I thought I knew exactly what to expect. But this was not just any horse. This was a racehorse. High-strung, aggressive, and just a little mean.

"Search every stall!" a voice cried. "Who knows what those kids have been doing to the horses! They turned one horse blue!"

"Well, make it fast. The first race has already started."

I heard stall doors opening and closing. They were at the far end of the barn. I had two minutes.

Maybe.

I started the morph.

The first thing that happened was the ears. My human ears sort of crawled up the side of my head to the top. Then they sprouted. No big deal. I mean, no big deal once you're used to that kind of thing.

If you weren't expecting it and your ears suddenly started crawling up the side of your head while getting long and pointy and covered with golden fur, you'd probably think it was a pretty big thing.

My body began to change very quickly. My butt grew huge! I had megabutt! My knees suddenly reversed direction with a loud, sickening grinding noise. My calves were stretching out, longer and longer. They were practically without meat. Just long bones covered with golden fur. The fur rippled up across my body. Up my legs. Down my arms. Across my back and chest. I wish I'd had time to enjoy that part because it was cool. The horse had a soft, smooth, beautiful golden coat.

And megabutt! (I'm sorry. I'm not mature)

quote:

Then my arms started growing. The upper arms bulged with massive, bunched muscles. All the muscle was at the top. The bottom was practically just a stick.

As I watched, my fingers melted together.

They looked exactly as if they'd been made of wax and put in a hot oven. They just melted.

"Ahh!" I yelped. For a brief moment I'd seen the fleshless bones of my own fingers. Not something you want to see. Trust me. They were bright white. I could see my fleshless knuckles.

"I heard something! Down there!"

"Just keep searching. No one is getting out of this barn."

I fell forward, no longer able to stand on my legs. I fell forward just as the bare bones of my fingers melted together and hardened into hooves.

CLUMP!

My front hooves hit the ground. And now the horse - the real horse - was starting to get extremely worried. He had come out of his "acquiring" funk. And now he was beginning to realize something very, very, very wrong was happening right there in his own stall.

"HreeEEE-heee-heee-he!"

"It's okay, boy," I started to whisper. But just as I started the word "okay," my entire face exploded outward.

My own nose just got up and left. It moved away. Far away. It sprouted into a muzzle a foot long.

More than a foot long!

My nose grew so monstrously huge that it forced my eyes apart. It was incredible! My eyes, which had been just an inch apart, like any normal person's eyes, were spreading further and further. And as they separated, I found my field of vision growing wider and wider.

But then it was too wide! My eyes were staring out of the sides of my head. My eyes were where my temples should have been. And in between those eyes was a nose the size of Rhode Island. My nose had stretched out so far it had dragged my mouth along for the trip.

I heard an awful growling, grinding sound coming from inside my own head. My teeth itched as they were replaced by the thick, flat teeth of a horse.

I was now almost a complete horse. Then, somewhere way, way back, I felt a tail sprout like some hyperactive weed. Okay, now I was done.

The real horse stared at me from one big watery eye. It sniffed me. What it smelled ... was nothing. At least to a horse brain. Horses and other animals that rely on smell are not equipped for the idea that they could smell another horse and have it smell exactly like them.

It would be like a human suddenly finding herself face-to-face with a person who was identical.

Only horses aren't exactly the geniuses of the animal kingdom. They can't make any sense of it.

So, weirdly enough, the real horse's reaction was to grow calmer. It was more or less as if I weren't there. And the stranger thing was that as I felt the horse brain in me awaken and bubble up beneath my own human consciousness, I felt the same way about the other horse.

It was like: What other horse?

I tested the horse's senses. Excellent hearing. Good sense of smell. But eyesight was a mess. I was nearsighted, but far worse than that was the way I was staring in opposite directions at the same time. My eyes looked left and right. I had no depth perception in those directions. I couldn't really tell
very well if something on my left was two feet away or five feet. If you had put two sticks in the ground, I probably could not have told you which was closer.

But directly ahead of me, there was a zone where my horse eyes overlapped. Only there did I have binocular vision like humans and hawks have. I could see depth but only in the area right in front of me.

It was strange. But what was disturbing was the level of energy the big horse had. It was like every single muscle in my body was being given an electric jolt. I was an entire power plant of pure energy!

But there was nothing uncontrollable about the horse brain. I felt hunger, but not the raving, lunatic hunger of some species. I felt an edgy concern, but nothing like the insane, mind-eating fear of a small mouse or squirrel.

I can handle this, I told myself. Just one thing left to do. I have to get out of the stall and out of the barn. And morph back and find the others. Okay, three things to do.

There was just no way to be subtle about it. I stuck my big golden head out over the stall door and did what no horse has ever been smart enough to do: I slid the little lock to one side and pushed the stall door open.

Just act normal, I told myself. Yeah. A normal girl who's turned into a racehorse.

I stepped out. I could see in both directions simultaneously, so I saw the two groups of stable workers at opposite ends of the barn
.
Ooookay. Just walk on down.

One of the men froze. He stared. And then he came rushing over. "Hey! It's Minneapolis Max! He's out of his stall. How the ... someone is going to catch some grief behind this! Joe! Grab his bridle, for crying out loud! Quick, before Max here starts raising Cain!"

From the other side of my head I spotted the teenager I'd kicked earlier. He raced to the stall I'd just left. "Hey, Mr. Hinckley! There's another horse in here that looks exactly like -"

"Just shut up and bring me his gear! Now! NOW!"

"Yes, sir."

The man called Hinckley approached me slowly, carefully. With good reason. The horse in me was skittish. He was a combination of scared and mad. Mad at the man, sure. But much madder at the smell of the other stallions in other stalls. One in particular. His scent stuck in my nostrils and really,
really annoyed me.

I didn't know what that other stallion thought he was doing on my turf, but I was ready to go hoof-to-hoof with him and show him who was boss!

"HrrrEEEE-hee-hee-heeHRRRR-EEEEE-heee-heee-he!" I whinnied at ear-splitting volume, screaming my challenge to combat.

"Hey, boy. You know you're in the next race so you decided to come on out? Save that energy, big guy. That's my champion! That's my Minneapolis Max."

That's when it hit me. I'm no racing fan. But the name penetrated my slightly deranged consciousness. I recognized that name.

I had just morphed the horse who was expected to go on to win the Kentucky Derby.

"Come on, boy, we have a race to run."

That was fine with me. I wanted to run.

Horses do want to run. A Derby favorite probably wasn't the best horse to pick, though.

A few quick words on the Kentucky Derby, although it's probably unnecessary. The Derby is probably the most famous race in American horseracing. It's 1 and 1/4 mile (or 2 km) race run the first Saturday in May at Churchill Downs, in Louisville, Kentucky [edited to correct from Lexington. Thanks!]. It's been run since 1875, and is open to any qualifying three year old horse, male or female, although in practice, it's almost always male horses that run. There's another race that day, the Kentucky Oaks, that's only open to female horses. It's the best attended race, and it airs on TV every year. It's a big deal. And if a horse is a Derby favorite, that horse is a big deal.

Chapter 16

quote:

<Cassie. It's me, Tobias. I don't know if you can hear me, but you're the only one I haven't found. If you can, give me some kind of sign, anything. Where are you?>

<I'm down on the track,> I said.

<Hey! You must be in morph if you're thought-speaking!>

<Yes, I am definitely in morph.>

<Well, where are you? What are you?>

<I'm in horse morph, Tobias.>

<Cool. So where are you?>

I sighed. <Look at the track. See the horses being led into the starting gates? See the horse whose jockey is wearing red-and-green silks? Number twenty-four?>

<You're kidding.>

<No, Tobias. I am not kidding.>

<How did this happen?>

<It's a long story. And I don't have time to tell it. I have a race to run.>

My jockey was barely a feather on my back. That didn't bother me. But I really did not like the bit in my mouth. It was infuriating! Almost as infuriating as the dark brown stallion one stall over.

I snorted defiantly at the brown stallion.

"Easy. Easy," the jockey said.

Out of my right eye I spotted Marco pushing his way through the crowd. He waved frantically.



Obviously, Tobias had told the others of my predicament.

"Who's worried?" Marco yelled. "I just want to know if you're going to win. I have five bucks I could bet on you!"

<Very funny. Oh, very, very funny.>

My jockey yanked my bridle and dug his toe into my side. And the dumb thing was, I didn't really know what he wanted me to do. See, I had the instincts of the horse I had morphed. But I did not have the lifetime training of the professional racehorse named Minneapolis Max.

So I had to actually think about it. With my human brain. I was pretty sure he wanted me to move toward the starting gates. So I did.

A trainer was standing by the gate. Cigar-man. The cigar was even more disintegrated by slobber now.

"He's always balky at the gate," Cigar-man said to the jockey.

Oh, really? Well, I would show them. I tossed my head proudly and I walked calmly into the narrow gate.

But once inside, I realized why Minneapolis Max was balky. There was zero room. The wooden slat walls pressed in on me from both sides. It was a trap! A trap!

Run!

I reared up, flailing my front legs wildly. I kicked the gate with my forehooves and yelled at the top of my horse lungs.
WHAM!

"HreEEE-heee-he!"

"Take it easy, Max, easy," the jockey said.

I was scared. Or at least my horse brain was scared. And I still had the obnoxious scent of that other big stallion in my nose. So I was mad, too.

That's my excuse. I just wasn't thinking. Because when the jockey once again told me to take it easy, I did something I shouldn't have done. Something I wouldn't have done if I hadn't been distracted.

<You take it easy. I'm crammed into a little box here!> I said in thought-speak.

Thought-speak is like E-mail: It only goes to the person you address it to. So he did hear me. I know for a fact he did because he said, "Huh? Wah? What the?"

BRRRRIIINNNNNG!

WHAP!

A massively loud bell rang, the gate slammed open, and I started running.

I kicked out with the big, bunched muscles of my back legs. I threw my front legs out to catch myself with each stride. I exploded from the gate. Exploded!

I felt the adrenaline flood my system. To my left, horses! To my right, horses! We were running all out. Running like mad, hooves flashing, muscles firing and releasing, manes streaming, tails bobbing, our nostrils flared wide to suck in gasping breaths.

I ran. I ran, and the other horses faded from my thoughts. I ran, and it was like I was the only horse on Earth. I saw the track ahead of me, and that's all I cared about. I just wanted to run and run for as long as there was open ground ahead of me.

I was doing what I had been designed to do. I was fulfilling millions of years of horse evolution.

I was running. And running was what I did. Running was what I was.

The jockey tried to rein me in. He was conserving my strength and stamina for the end of the race.

<Forget winning,> I told him. <The point is not to win. The point is just to run.>

To his credit, he didn't fall off in shock. And also to his credit, he gave me control, and I did what horses do: I hauled hoof.

They laughed at Visser Three when he came up with the idea to control jockeys to set a trap for Andalites who morphed into horses, but who's laughing now?

quote:

Around the turn, digging my hooves in to keep from slipping. I moved in toward the whitewashed rail, cutting straight across the path of another horse. But I didn't care. Hah! I was running! Everyone else could just get out of the way!

Down the backstretch. No sound but my own gasping breath and the pounding, pounding, pounding of dozens of hooves on dirt.

The far turn! I was tiring now. My lungs ached. My muscles burned. I felt each new impact of my hooves on the dirt. It was time to slow down. Rest a little.

But then I saw him. The dark brown stallion. I saw him sneak up, getting between me and the rail. And I saw him pull ahead of me.

"Don't fade on me now, talking horse!" the jockey said.

I saw the wild, triumphant look in the stallion's eye. It made my blood boil.

<Hang on, Mr. Jockey. We're gonna win this race!>

Easier said than done. The other horse was fast. Very fast. But I had something he didn't have: a human brain. See, I knew the finish line was not far off. I knew that I could pour every last ounce of energy into running. I could override my horse instincts that told me to slow down.

I stretched out my stride and powered down the track.

I was ahead!

He was ahead!

I was ahead!

He was ahead!

The crowd was screaming deliriously. I saw thousands of faces flash by, all with their mouths wide open. The roar just gave me more energy still.

The finish line!

FLASH! FLASH! The cameras went off.

ZOOM! I blew across the line. Exactly two feet ahead of the other stallion.

I had won!

I think it was the first time in my entire life I'd ever won any kind of athletic contest. Sure, I was a horse, but hey, a victory is a victory.

I know it isn't really supposed to be, but having grown up near a race track, having been the son and grandson of inverterate horserace gamblers, and having gone to the track since I was a little kid, this isn't realistic. Even if a horse is in great physical condition, it still has to train, and train a lot, to actually have a chance, and Cassie just doesn't have that training or knowledge of horse racing. The reason the jockey tried to hold her back at first is because horses are sprinters. If a horse runs all out the entire race, the way Cassie did, it would be exhausted by the end of the race. You'll see that...horses will take early leads, and then fall back, because they can't keep up that level of energy for the entire race. Like I said, I know it's just a story, but a horse that did what Cassie did during a race would loose.

OctaviusBeaver

Dec 27, 2020 22:04

Small correction, the Kentucky Derby takes place in Louisville KY, not Lexington.

Epicurius

Dec 27, 2020 22:10

OctaviusBeaver posted:

Small correction, the Kentucky Derby takes place in Louisville KY, not Lexington.

You're right. Sorry. Consider it fixed up above.

Also, as a note, if you want to read a hilarious article about the Kentucky Derby, read Hunter S. Thompson's "The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved". He was hired by Scanlan's Monthly to report on the 1970 Kentucky Derby. Unfortunately, he wasn't actually able to see the race where he was standing, and he got drunk. So the article, instead of actually being about the Derby, was about the culture surrounding the Derby. And it's funny.

freebooter

Dec 28, 2020 19:17

I would be fairly concerned that if I just participated in (let alone won) a race, as a very expensive horse that gets taken very good care of, the trainers wouldn't be leaving me alone for more than two hours afterwards.

QuickbreathFinisher

Dec 28, 2020 19:26

freebooter posted:

I would be fairly concerned that if I just participated in (let alone won) a race, as a very expensive horse that gets taken very good care of, the trainers wouldn't be leaving me alone for more than two hours afterwards.

God, I had never considered the unique hell of being trapped as a nothlit of a famous animal.

Epicurius

Dec 28, 2020 21:39

Animorphs-Book 14:The Unknown-Chapter 17

quote:

Fortunately, in between running from stable hands and trying to find me, everyone in the group had managed to acquire a horse morph.

We flew out to the Dry Lands. It was a long trip, made even longer by the fact that the entire time we had the same conversation, over and over.

<AII I'm saying is think of how cool it would be,> Marco pleaded. <We morph racehorses->

 Jake said.

<- then, using our human abilities we figure out if we think we can win, and the others put money down.>

<Not happening, Marco,> Rachel said.

<We start out betting whatever we have saved. Like I have about twenty dollars. But if we bet that at say, three-to-one odds, before you know it ->

<Marco, forget it, okay?> I said. <It wouldn't be right.>

<- we'd have sixty dollars. Bet that at three-to-one odds you have a hundred and eighty. Then bet that and you have five forty! Then sixteen hundred twenty! Then four thousand eight hundred and sixty!>

<How is it you can multiply in your head like that?> Rachel asked. <You barely scrape by in your math classes.>

<It's a whole different thing when you're multiplying money,> Marco said. <A whole different thing.> We repeated this conversation with small variations all the way to the Dry Lands.

Marco knows the score.

quote:

<Hey,> Tobias said. 

<The modest horses?> Jake asked.

<Yep. That is them,> Tobias confirmed. 

Down below, my osprey eyes spied the horses. They were walking almost in a line. Like soldiers. Not like wild horses. But alongside the disciplined group were other horses. These other horses were moving normally.

<I think our main group of horse-Controllers has picked up a few tagalongs. It would make sense. The real horses don't know these are Yeerk-infested horses. So they hook up, figuring to be part of the same herd.>

<And look where they're heading,> Marco said. <Right toward the base. Right into Zone Ninety-one.>

 Ax asked. <You were all talking about it before, but I am still confused.>

<You probably already know what's going on at Zone Ninety-one,> Marco said darkly.

Jake sighed. <It's a secret base. They say it's a place where the government is hiding an alien spacecraft that supposedly crashed here about fifty years ago.>

<Who is they?> Ax asked.

<Marco is they,> Rachel said. <Nuts. Wackos. Conspiracy freaks. People who go on the Internet and call themselves DarkTruth or whatever.>

<Ah,> Ax said, like he understood.

Marco was right about one thing, however: The horses were heading directly into the base. Of course, so were other horses. Horses not connected to the band of horse-Controllers.

<If you want to infiltrate a heavily guarded base, what better way?> I admitted. 

<True,> Jake said. <And if you want to watch a group of horse-Controllers, what better way than to join the herd, just like those others did? Let's fly up ahead. Morph to horse. And join up with this bunch. See where they go. What they do.>

<Power those wings,> Tobias said cheerfully. <We still have some flying to do.>

<AII I'm saying is, think of how cool it would be,> Marco began again.

It took ten minutes to get far enough ahead of the horse-Controller herd with its stray tagalongs. We hid behind some rocks and morphed into our horse bodies. This time we did it quickly. Before base security could begin to think someone was in the rocks.

Once we were morphed I realized we had a problem. <We look way too good to be scruffy old wild horses,> I said. <We need to roll in the dirt a little. Run through some brambles. Look like we've been living out in the wild, not in pampered barns.>

By the time the horse-Controllers passed by, we were six dirty, dusty, scruffy-looking beasts. But we were also the coolest-looking wild horses anyone would ever see. After all, one of us could be going on to win the Kentucky Derby.

That's the thing, because they have another problem besides being too clean and healthy. While, sure, I'll believe that the air force people won't notice, these horses are all feral horses....lets say mustangs, although, really, what I'm saying applies to most feral horse types. The Animorphs, on the other hand, if they've morphed race horses, have morphed Thoroughbreds. They're going to be bigger and heavier than mustangs, and it shouldn't be hard to tell them apart.

quote:

<Here they come,> Jake said. <Just try to act natural.>

The horse herd came ambling by. A couple of the "real" horses raised their heads to give us a suspicious look and a sniff. But the horse-Controllers totally ignored us.

I resisted my idiot horse urge to challenge the other stallions to mortal combat. We fell into step, not close, but not too far from the others.

And we walked, with the slow CLOP-CLOP-CLOP of horses, right into the heart of the fabled Zone 91.

So, they've gotten in, with completely inappropriate horse breeds.

Chapter 18

quote:

The whole herd of us wandered onto the base. We wandered past even more intense warning signs. The last one actually said YOU MAY BE SHOT. We wandered right past men and women armed with submachine guns.

No one suspected horses.

Of course, if anyone had heard what we heard next, they would definitely have been suspicious.

"Hullak fimul fallanta gehel. Call is feellos."

<Who said that?> I asked.

<Um ... that horse said it,> Rachel said.

"Yall hellem. Fimul chall killim fullat!"

<And that was another horse. We're trapped in a Mister Ed rerun,> Marco said. <We are in the Nick at Night zone.>

<That's Galard!> Ax said. <They're speaking Galard!>

<Two questions,> Jake said tersely. <What's Galard, and can they hear us thought-speak? And answer the second question first.>

<No. They can't hear us. Galard is a sort of universal language spoken by different races throughout the galaxy. It's what people speak when they come from different species and don't share the same language. These horses must have been fitted with speech synthesizers.>

<Why wouldn't Yeerks be speaking Yeerk or whatever?> I asked.

 Ax admitted. <But the standard speech synthesizers use Galard. Maybe they acquired less sophisticated speech synthesizers. Sometimes it's easier to get older, less cutting-edge technology.>
<You mean they bought speech synthesizers on sale?> Rachel asked.

<At the Pluto Wal-Mart,> Marco said.

<Ax, can you understand what they said?> Jake asked.

<Yes, of course. They said to follow the plan. "If we do this right we'll be off this idiotic assignment, out of these idiotic stupid bodies, and back onboard ship where we belong." That's what the leader said.>

So while, thinking about it, Gallard was probably used in the Andalite Chronicles, this is the first official mention and use of Gallard, the galactic trade language. It makes sense it exists. Trade languages are pretty common on Earth, too. The most famous of which might be Swahili, which, even though it's the native language of some countries now, originated on the East African coast, as a way for traders to talk to each other. Another example might be Tok Pisin, the official language of Papua New Guinea, which serves as a second language for most of tribes of New Guinea so that they can communicate.

quote:

<Uh-oh,> Tobias said darkly. <They're splitting up.>

<We'll have to split up, too. Follow each group,> Jake advised. <Me, Cassie, and Tobias go with one group, Ax, Rachel, and Marco go with the other. Ax? Listen to them if they talk anymore. And let us know by thought-speak.>

<Yes, Prince Jake.>

<Have I mentioned don't call me prince?>

<Yes, Prince Jake, you have.>

I fell in step alongside Jake, trying to look like any old horse walking along, minding her own business.

<This is weird,> I said. <These horses are definitely on a mission. I'm almost surprised no one has ever noticed how bizarre their behavior is.>

<What sane person would ever even think that a horse would be a security risk?> Tobias said.

<How do you like horse morph, Tobias?> I asked, making conversation to ease my nervousness.

<Compared to flying? It's dull. Compared to the old days when I wouldn't have been able to morph with you guys at all? It's great!>

We were at the side of a road. This part of the base was densely built up with low, whitewashed clapboard buildings, each bearing stenciled numbers. Not far away was a large building with a halffilled parking lot. I couldn't see well enough with my dim horse eyes to read the sign above its door, but people were coming out, pushing loaded grocery carts.

<Base Exchange,> Jake explained. <Kind of a shopping center for the people stationed here.>

<Must be boring out here,> Rachel said. <Not much to do but keep secrets.>

A pair of Humvees loaded with uniformed troops came racing down the road. We stepped back out of the way. Totally unhorselike behavior. No one noticed. The guys in the Humvee never even glanced our way. They'd seen wild horses hundreds of times.

The afternoon sun was intense. It was really hot. The horse part of me wanted to go find a nice shady patch and rest. I saw some trees and picnic tables off to one side of the Base Exchange. People were carrying slices of pizza and baskets of fried chicken and potatoes out to the tables.

It was so weird. I was a human in a horse morph. I was walking along with Yeerks inside horse bodies. And we were, all of us, trying to figure out what, if anything, was being kept secret on this base.

Was it true? Had a spaceship crashed here back in the fifties? Had the government hidden it all these years? Were the Yeerks determined to get it away from the humans in order to keep us from understanding its technology?

What could be hidden on this base? A Yeerk Bug fighter? An Andalite fighter? Some ship belonging to some other race?

<Hey, Jake? Tobias? Do you smell anything weird?> I asked.

 Jake said.

<No, not that. Smell the horse-Controllers.>

<Do I have to? Hey ... wait ... you mean that smell.>

<Fear,> Tobias said. <Nervousness. Great. If they're scared, we should be scared.>

 I said dryly.

I looked around, trying to make sense of the emotions I was literally smelling. I saw the second group of horse-Controllers. I saw Rachel, and Marco, and Ax along with a couple of tagalong horses.

They were converging with us. Converging on the same building.

It was one of the hangars. A very large hangar, maybe fifteen stories high, with doors you could walk a dinosaur through. And it was a very secure hangar. There were guards at the main doors.

Guards at every corner of the building. Looking up, I thought I saw the outline of a man with a rifle up on top of the structure.

There was a sign on the side of the building. I squinted but could not read it with my dim horse eyes.

 Tobias grumbled.

BRRRRRIINNNNGGGG! BRRRRRRIIIINNNNNGGGG!

An insanely loud bell went off. I reared up before I could control the reaction. But the horse- Controllers showed no response at all. No response except to grow very still and very focused. They were expecting the bell.

The bell was a safety alarm. It was heralding the opening of the main doors of the hangar. I saw the guards move their automatic weapons down off their shoulders and into easy firing position.

KRRR-Chunk! Rrrrreeeeeeeeee!

The doors began to open, motors whining loudly in my horse ears.

And that's when the second group of horses started to run. Three horse-Controllers, followed, after a moment's hesitation, by Marco, Ax, and Rachel, suddenly broke into full-out gallop straight for the hangar door.

<Oh, man,> Tobias groaned. <Why do I get the feeling there's going to be shooting soon?>

<Why are they doing that?> I asked. <It makes no sense. Why hide in horse bodies so you can come and go without anyone noticing, and then suddenly do this?>

<Because the subtle approach isn't working,> Jake said grimly. <Remember what they said earlier: Do this and they're out of here. It's a final desperation move.>

<So what do we do?>

<We play follow-the-leader,> Jake said grimly. <And we hope these Yeerks have a good plan.>

Suddenly, our group of horse-Controllers surged forward. I was startled, but I quickly ran after them, followed by Jake and Tobias.

The first group was racing full tilt toward the hangar. They were almost there. The armed guards were watching them in bemusement. But you could see the bemusement turning to puzzlement. And finally ... too late ... fear.

WHAM!

The lead horse slammed bodily into one guard, knocking him into a second guard. Hooves flashed as the horse ran over the guard. I could see it, even with my weak horse eyes, because we were close now. Running straight for the door of the hangar.

We were there!

A madhouse! Guards mingling with seemingly insane horses. Guards being knocked to the ground.

"Get these horses outta here!" someone bawled.

"Neigh-heh-heh-heh!" the horses screamed.

"Sarge, what do we do?"

"Ahhhh!"

"HrrrEEEE-heee-he-he!"

"Shoot 'em!"

"Negative, soldier, do not fire! We could hit what's inside!"

Our group jumped into the melee of frantic soldiers and madly dancing, rearing, screaming horses. But our group stayed close together and plowed straight through.

Straight through and into the Most Secret Place On Earth.

Impatience and boredom is the doom of many a plan. I mean, this probably would have been better if the Yeerks had controlled horses to get on the base and then found some way to control a guard who was supposed to be in a hanger. But things were taking too long. The Yeerks on the mission were impatient, and....now this.

Comrade Blyatlov

Dec 28, 2020 23:35

I just have such a hard time believing that Private Joe Dumbfuck didn't empty his 249 at the horses.

SirSamVimes

Dec 29, 2020 00:26

Maybe the Joe Dumbfucks don't get assigned to ~~Area 51~~ Zone 91.

freebooter

Dec 29, 2020 01:32

You could theoretically argue that it's ethical for them to rig horse races if they then use the money for the war effort... though I'm not sure what use money would be.

There's a moment in a later book (probably really don't even need to spoiler this) where they smash a store window to get some clothes because they can't just be in their morphing outfits - can't even remember the circumstances - and Jake later mentions he mailed the store some money. Like, even if it's a mom and pop store, come on, they can just take a hit for the team when these kids are trying to save the world.

Epicurius

Dec 29, 2020 22:25

Sorry, everybody. I don't like doing it, but I've got to miss tonight. More animorphs tomorrow, I promise.