sunyuting1-scholastic

The Andalite Chronicles

As an Andalite aristh, I'd been trained in morphing. Back at basic training

they first transformed us with the morphing technology. And they gave us a

djabala to acquire and morph.
A djabala is a small, six-legged animal, maybe a third the size of a young

Andalite. lt has a mouth and a tail and no natural weapons. lt lives by

climbing trees and eating the highest leaves.

You have to morph the djabala in order to pass the morphing proficiency

test. So I did. But then, like a lot of arisths, I morphed a kafit bird. I have

heard that some planets have many types of bird. But since we only have

three, and since the kafit is the best species of the three, it's popular with

young cadets looking for fun.

It was a wonderful experience. I always loved the idea of flying. But of

course, mqrphing for pleasure is discouraged. So I only did it one time.

That was all the morphing I had done. A djabala and a kafit bird. I had never

even dreamed of morphing a Taxxon.

Taxxons are a nauseating species. Even if you've seen holograms of them.

But trust me, till you've been up close to a Taxxon, you just don't know how

awful they are. The smell alone is enough to make you sick.

But now I had no choice. I had to show Alloran that I was still a good soldier.

I had to prove that I was brave, no matter what he thought of me. I couldn't

show any hesitation.

So I focused my mind on becoming the Taxxon. And the changes began

immediately.

I felt my upper torso begin to melt down into my lower body. As I watched,

my blue-and-tan fur ceased being individual hairs and melted into a

plasticlike covering. The bare flesh on my upper body did the same thing,

turning hard and shiny.

I felt myself failing as my legs shrank. They seemed to be sucked up into my

body. Way too fast!

My stomach hit the deck so hard it knocked the air out of me.

Then, almost as quickly, I was lifted back up off the deck. Dozens of sharp

cones were sprouting from my belly. I was growing Taxxon legs.

I looked backward through my stalk eyes and saw that my body was

stretching out behind me. I was rapidly becoming a fat worm. Ten feet of

rippling, slimy segments rolled backward, engulfing my tail. The process made

a sound like wet cloth being dragged over gravel.

I could hear my own internal organs dissolving. Squishing, slippery sounds. I

could hear other organs, organs I didn't even have a name for, take their

place.

Then...I was blind!

My eyes had all been blinded at once. I couldn't see anything. I felt fear

grow within me. Fear that threatened to become panic. I was blind!

Muddy at first, then sharper, my sight slowly returned. But it didn't exactly

make me feel better. It was an eerie, distorted, broken world I saw.

Taxxons have compound eyes. Each red globule eye is really a thousand

smaller eyeballs, each one taking its own tiny picture of the world.

Everything I saw around me was shattered into a million small frames. It was

overwhelming.

And then I felt something new. A new sense...

I moved unfamiliar muscles and realized that they operated my mouth. My

round, red mouth. And through that mouth came a deluge of sensory input. lt

was like smell. And like something I'd never really experienced before. It's

called the sense of taste, I think.

And what I tasted...what I smelled...all that my senses cared about was the

bright smell of blood.

I never even felt the Taxxon's instincts well up beneath my own troubled

and battered Andalite mind. I had no warning. All at once, the Taxxon was in

my head.

How can I even convey the horror?

Have you ever felt in yourself some awful, evil urge? Some fugitive thought

that you quickly snuffed out? Well, as I became fully Taxxon, I felt such a

feeling. And it was not some faint wisp of thought, but a raging, screaming

hunger.

A hunger for anything living.

A hunger for anything with a beating heart.

My shattered Taxxon eyes saw two Andalites.

My own people! I wanted to devour my own people.

But Taxxons are not fools. My Taxxon brain saw and understood the Andalite

tails. lt knew they were weapons. lt knew it could not fight them. And that

weakness gave rise to a rage that was like a nuclear fire in me.

I was hungry! Hunger like no hunger any other creature can ever know.

As I struggled to reassert my own identity, I understood why the Taxxons

had made their alliance with the Yeerks.

The Yeerks had weapons. Weapons to use to feed fresh, warm flesh to the

raging Taxxon hunger.

The Taxxons had given up their freedom. But freedom is nothing to a Taxxon,

compared with that hunger.

<How are you doing, Elfangor?> Arbron asked me.

<Fine,> I lied. <Only ...>

<What?>

<When you morph, be very careful. Be strong. You'll have to fight the

hunger.>

Arbron laughed. <What, are you afraid I'm gonna morph and try to eat you?>

<Yes, Arbron. I am afraid.>

-------------------
The Hork-Bajir Chronicles

ALDREA
The battle raged!

I raced along the front of the log Yeerk pool. Between raging monsters and

shouting, shredder-firing Hork-Bajir-Controllers.

I had never experienced anything like it before. It was not what I had

expected. The shouts and cries. The moans of pain. Brilliant explosions going

off everywhere. The smell of charred flesh.

I ran in panic, only barely remembering my goal. I reached the end of the log

and turned right, racing uphill again toward the fighter that was parked

there.

No guards! The Yeerks who should have been protecting the fighter had

rushed to join the battle. A fatal mistake!

I ran for the fighter. The Yeerks had even left the hatch open. It was

incredible. So easy!

I plowed inside, skidding to a halt. The noise of battle seemed farther off

now. Like it was happening somewhere else entirely. I heard less shredder

fire.

Focus, Aldrea, I told myself. I was trembling. I stood before the

communications panel. The Yeerks had altered some of the controls, but it

was still basically a familiar Andalite panel.

<Computer, activate communications array,> I ordered. <Outgoing message.

First address: Andalite home world. Priority one, two-way communication

demanded. Second address: Andalite space fleet. Priority one, two-way

communication demanded.>

<Ready,> the computer said.

<Open channels,> I said.

<Channels open. Begin message.>

I faced the panel. I tried to compose my expression. I knew I must look

pretty wild. More to the point, I looked young. And female. The Andalite

military was almost entirely male.

<This is Aldrea-Iskillion-Falan. I am communicating from the Hork-Bajir

home world. I ->

Out of the corner of one stalk eye I saw the threatening shape loom up

behind me. I spun and whipped my tail around. But the Hork-Bajir-Controller

was quick. He blocked my tail blade.

He delivered a backhanded blow that connected solidly with my face. My

legs buckled. I fell to my knees.

"I don't think I can allow you to call for help, Aldrea, daughter of Seerow."

My head was spinning. But even as I slumped over onto the deck, I thought,

Why isn't he using his blades on me? He could easily destroy me.

The Hork-Bajir-Controller pressed one of his claw feet down on my upper

body, pinning me down, helpless, unable to reach him with my tail.

"Computer. Terminate communication."

<Communication terminated.>

The Hork-Bajir -Controller looked down at me. "You've caused a lot of

trouble, Andalite. Your friends are busily butchering my people out there."

<Go ahead. You want to kill me. Go ahead!> I cried with a lot more courage

than I really felt. I was sick with fear. And just plain sick from the spinning in

my head.

"Kill you? No, no, no. Not me," he said. "I don't want to kill you. I want to

make you my host. I will be the first Andalite-Controller ever. I will have

complete access to your every secret, to all the scientific and technical

knowledge you possess. See, I've studied you Andalites. I admire you."

He didn't want to kill me? Then there might be time. Just maybe enough

time. I had to stall him. Distract -

WHUMPF! The kick came without warning.

<Argghhh!> I groaned. I nearly passed out.

"Terribly sorry, but I need you to stay put. I'm going to power up this fighter

and use its shredders to cut down your little army of DNA mistakes."

The kick had knocked the wind out of me. I think I actually did pass out, but

only briefly. I couldn't move, but I could still think. And what I thought of

was a single, simple picture.

The picture of a Jubba-Jubba monster.

The Yeerk was busy powering up the shredders. And then busy using the

fighter's maneuvering thrusters to turn it toward the battle, bringing the

shredders to bear.

One blast from the powerful shredders at this point-blank range would end

the battle. He was actually laughing to himself as he brought the weapons

around.

Then he noticed.

"Aaahhh! " He jumped back, eyes wide in disbelief.

I was halfway morphed. Halfway morphed into a Jubba-Jubba monster.

<I don't guess you Yeerks know about this bit of new technology yet,> I said.

"What are you doing?"

I reached for him and closed my huge, three-fingered hand around his neck.

<What am I doing? Destroying you, Yeerk. This for my brother. For my

mother. And for my father.> I tightened my grip. The power in my hand was

incredible! I could easily have ripped him apart. I felt the dull monster mind,

barely more than a flicker of simplest intelligence, not even sentient. I felt

its blunt violence. It's powerful DNA-encoded urge to destroy.

But I had practiced the morph. I knew how to dominate the monster's

instincts. I knew how to keep my own Andalite mind in complete control. And

that proved to be a mistake.

The monster would have snuffed out the life of the Yeerk without a second

thought. But I was an Andalite. We are not beasts. The Hork-Bajir-

Controller's tongue lolled out. He flailed helplessly. His eyes rolled up into

his head. He stopped thrashing.

I released my pressure. And I still felt the pulse in his neck.

I carried him to the hatch and threw him outside. I closed the hatch and

secured it. And then I demorphed.

<Computer, resume previous communication.>

<Begin message.>

<This is Aldrea-Iskillion-Falan. I am communicating from the Hork-Bajir

world. Designation Sector Five, RG-Two-One-Five-Seven-Eight-Four.

Prince Seerow, his wife, and son have been killed. I am his daughter.>

A face had appeared on the screen before me. A young warrior, oozing

arrogance.

<The announcement of Prince Seerow's death is hardly a priority-one

message,> he sneered. <Priority one is reserved for messages of the utmost

->

I was not feeling patient. I'd been punched, kicked, and stomped. <Then

maybe this will be important enough for you: The Yeerks are here. Here in

force, in orbit, and on the ground.>

The young warrior nearly fell over. <What?>

<I said the Yeerks are here.>

--------------
The Ellimist Chronicles

My full name is Azure Level, Seven Spar, Extension Two, Down-Messenger,

Forty-one. My chosen name is Toomin. I like the sound of the word, which is

all the reason you need for a chosen name.

My 'game' name is Ellimist. Like Toomin it doesn't mean anything in

particular. I just thought it sounded breezy. Never occurred to me when I

chose the name that it would follow me for so long, and so far.

Pangabans were an interesting race well-adapted to their unusual world.

They lived beneath an eternally gray, clouded sky. They had never seen

their own sun clearly, had no notion of stars or other planets. This was

particularly ironic because their own planet was in fact a moon that orbited

a much larger planet well-suited to life.

Had they been blessed with an occasional break in the clouds they might

have become a very different race. It is hard to imagine that any species

could have lived beneath the sky-filling arc of the main planet, with all its

obvious lushness, and not become obsessed with a desire to learn space

travel.

But the Pangabans knew nothing of this, nothing at all of anything beyond

their own damp and gloomy world.

The Pangabans were six-legged, which is a common enough configuration.

They carried their heads high above the slender, muscular body that was

little more than a junction of the six long legs.

They were skimmers. Their feet were large, webbed, and concave which

allowed them to walk on the water that covered most of the planet aside

from a few soggy islands. They fed by lowering a sort of net from their body

down into the water and trawling for microscopic plants and animals of

which there was an abundance.

They were intelligent. Not Ketran intelligent, perhaps, but self-aware. They

knew who they were. Knew that they existed. Had a language. A culture,

mostly involving amazing water dances, feeding rituals, and a religion that

centered on belief in underwater spirits that either gave them food or

witheld food.

DNA analysis indicated a potential for development. The Pangaban world

received a decent dose of radiation, nothing deadly, just enough to cause a

respectable rate of mutation. And despite their awkward physiques and the

limitations of their planet's natural resources, I believed they could be

brought to a level of technology equal to, say, the Illaman Confederation.

There was one possible problem: the main planet around which the

Pangabans revolved, was populated by an aggressive species of four-legged,

two-handed rodents called The Gunja Wave. The Gunja Wave were primitive

creatures, only dimly self-aware. But their DNA held promise, too. And their

aggressiveness might give them an edge if the two races ever collided.

Still, I had an instinct. I memmed my friend Azure Level, Nine Spar, Mast

Three, Right-Messenger Twelve. His chosen name is Redfar. Hi 'game' name

is Inidar.

"I'll take the Pangabans, if you choose to accept."

"Gladly," he memmed back. "You underestimate the value of sheer

aggression. You're an idealist, Ellimist."

"Oh? Well, step into my lair, said the dreth to the chorkant."

Inidar laughed. The laugh worried me a bit. He seemed very confident. But I

wasn't going to show him my own doubts. "Shall we immerse?" It was the

ritual challenge of the game.

"On the other side," Inidar agreed, accepting the challenge.

I checked my real world position, checked to see whether there were any

pending memmoes for me to deal with. I didn't want to be interrupted. Then I

opened the shunt and was all at once inside the game.

I floated bodiless above the Pangaban world. Drifted above an endless gray

-green soup choked with seaweeds and algae and gliding eels that could

reach lengths of three miles. I skimmed above one of the mossy islands,

brushed one of the squat, stunted, unlovely trees and found a colony of

Pangabans.

The Pangabans were trolling as always, but also playing at something. A

game that involved moving in slow, ever tighter circles around one central

person. Not a complex game, certainly not in comparison with the game I

played.

Still, I was heartened. Surely an ability to conceive and execute a game was

a good sign in any species. It was a gentle, slow and nearly pointless game,

but that could evolve. Games had evolved on other planets, among other

peoples. My own people, the Ketrans, being perhaps the pre-eminent

example.

I wondered what Inidar would do with the Gunja Wave. The essence of the

game was minimalism: do the least thing needed to accomplish a goal.

I knew the least thing. I knew what I would do. A single, simple movement: I

would part the clouds and cause the skies to become 10% clear on any given

day. If I had understood fully, if my instincts were correct, that single

change in the parameters would launch a revolution among the Pangabans.

I slowed, floated, righted, deployed my wings and settled down to stand upon

the water, invisible to the solemn, slow-moving Pangabans.

I like to feel the texture of the game. I like to be inside it. Only there, only

with the alien wind in your wings and the ground beneath your pods (or

water, in this case), can you fully know the place. And the place is integral

to the species.

I looked up at the unbroken blanket of gray clouds. I couldn't let in too much

light or the entire ecosystem would collapse. Just a glimpse.

I felt a thrill of anticipation. The Pangabans were on the verge of an

experience they could not even guess at. Their eyes would be open for the

first time. Their universe would expand by a factor of a billion percent.

I smiled. And I memmed the game core: part the clouds.

And the clouds parted.

It was night. The clouds tore apart, a slow, silent rip. And above the

Pangaban the stars appeared. And into that swatch of speckled blackness

rolled the planet, all green and blue and orange-scarred.

Slowly, one by one, fearful, the Pangaban did what none of their species had

ever done before: they looked up.

They looked up and moaned their gurgling cries.

I heard Inidar's memo in my mind. "Shall we accelerate?"

"Fire it up," I answered and memmed the game core.

A hurricane! A hurricane of wind and water and earth and time itself. A

swirling madness of change. This was the ultimate moment in the game. We

had made our changes and now watched time reel forward.

I broke out the displays: DNA mutation, climate changes, technology index,

population. For the first two hundred thousand years there was very little

change. Then I began to spot the DNA differences in sight and body shape.

The Pangabans were selecting for longer range vision, for color vision, for

neck length.

And then, all at once, trouble. The algae count was dropping like a stone. It

couldn't be! Increased sunlight almost inevitably means an increase in flora.

But it was true, the seas were dying.

And then, as I stood untouched amidst the hurricane of change, the first of

the carnivore eels emerged to attack the Pangabans. The Pangaban

population was decimated in a flash of time.

DNA evolution began to come to the rescue of the Pangabans. They

selected for size, downtrending. The smaller were faster, able to evade the

eels. Smaller and smaller till the once-towering Pangabans were scarcely

larger than one of us Ketrans.

The eel threat diminished. And now at last came the first fluctuation in the

technology index. The Pangabans had learned to make a tool. A weapon, of

course. A simple spear that could be used to turn the tables on the eels. In

short order Pangabans were hunting and eating the eels. Primitive seine-

fishers had become true predators.

A million years passed and a very different species now crossed the planet's

seas armed with spears and bows. They formed hierarchies dominated by

warriors. Their culture shifted ground, favoring a sky god who brought the

gift of weapons.

Yes, yes, it was working well enough. Another million years. Perhaps two,

and they would learn to move beyond weapons, to . . .

And then, in a flash so sudden it was barely a blip of time, every index went

flat. The Pangabans had disappeared. Extinct.

I cursed and heard Inidar's memmed laughter.

I reeled back and slowed the playback speed. There it was: the Gunja Wave,

still rodentine, but now walking erect, arrived on the Pangaban world in

astoundingly primitive space craft and promptly killed and ate the Pangaban.

They hunted them to extinction and left the planet devoid of its only

intelligent species.

"Shall we call the game?" Inidar offered.

I sighed. "What was your move?"

"Oh, a very small one," Inidar said. "I increased their rate of reproduction

by a very small percentage. This heightened their natural aggression. And I

guessed that your move would be to open the Pangaban skies. Population

growth pressures, a limited food supply, and the ability to see the Pangaban

surface very clearly . . . My Gunja Wave wanted to eat your species."

"Yes, and they did," I said. "I call the game."

"You have to learn to avoid naivete, Ellimist. It's not the good and worthy

who prosper. It's just the motivated."

"Yes, and you can go surface," I muttered. "See you at the perches for free

flight?"

"I'm there, Ellimist."

I shut down the game and opened my eyes to the real world around me.

-------------
MEET THE STARS

This was written by a great friend of mine who's got more guts and
determination than all the Animorphs combined. He's an aspiring writer, and
I Iook forward to enjoying his books (or screenplays!) someday soon.

Thanks, Scott, for all you've taught me.
-K.A. Applegate



"We can't tell you who we are. Or where we live. It's too risky, and we've

got to be careful. Really careful. So we don't trust anyone. Because if they

find us... well, we just won't let them find us. The thing you should know is

that everyone is in really big trouble. Yeah. Even you."

I will miss reading Animorphs. I have been a fan since 1997 when the first

Animorphs book, The Invasion, was published. What has kept me reading

each and every book is how well Katherine Applegatemixes reality and

fantasy, making them come together for one enjoyable read after another.

When you are reading Animorphs it makes you think you are capable of doing

the things the characters are doing to make the world a better place. SOme

of the stoylines evolve around life messages like learning how to deal with

the death and loss of a loved one and how a war can tear families apart.

There are four story lines that hit home with me: Firstly, all of the books

that revolve around Tobias are very special in that they explore him trying

to find himself again as a young person agter being trapped in a morph for

such a long time and losing his sense of reality. What appeals to ame about

these stories is his explanation of life from the perspective of a himan and

as a red-tailed hawk.

Secondly, the David storyline that deals with the idea that things aren't

always as they seem. Divid is really diabolical - a nice guy who has now lost

his way.

Thirdly, (and this would be my top choice for the best life lesson) is the

story line in the book The Other where Ax learns to treat people who have

disabilities with respect. I think that is a good lesson for the readers to

learn.

Last, but not least, is my favorite plot revolving around Marco's mother

being the host for the leader of the Yeerk army, Visser One. It is a very

unusual twiest to the story and interesting because you would never expect

a boy's mother to be enslaved by and alien parasite who leads and army of

space alierns who want to take over our planet!

So what does it mean to me to be an Animrophs fan? Every month I have

looked forward to going to my local bookstore and picking up the next

installment and sepnding as much time reading as I can! Every now and then

a great series comes along that you can never forget. When Animorphs is

finally finished as a series, I hope Katherine will write another series

equallly as exciting and interesting for kids my age.

Scott Bremner
Canada
Reader since 1997


------------
MEGAMORPHS #1 - The Andalite's Gift


Okay. Okay, maybe it was a little immature to sneak into Darlene's party as

a mouse. But you didn't hear what she said about me!
Me and Ax morphed in a vacant lot a block away. Then we toddled on over

on our little mouse legs to the party.

Of course, first we had to get used to the mouse morph. See, when you

morph you don't just get the animal's body. You get it's brain, too. And most

animal brains are loaded with different instincts. Usually hunger. Also fear.

The mouse had a lot of each. He was very obsessed about food. And he was

one scared little animal. It's often that way when you first morph a new

species. As soon as Ax and I achieved total mousehood, those instincts

kicked in big time.

RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN!

The mouse didn't like being out in the open, in broad daylight. He was scared

of predators. Seriously scared.

RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN!

So we ran. It was like one minute you're a normal human thinking, Hmmm,

isn't it fascinating shrinking down like this, growing a tail, having big

whiskers? And the next minute that mouse brain kicks in and suddenly you

are charged up with the energy of a thousand cups of coffee on top of a

thousand bowls of Captain Crunch, and you are ENERGIZED!

<I can't control this creature!> Ax wailed. <It's insane!>

<Just go with it,> I said. <It'll chill out eventually.>

Let me tell you: Mice can move on those little legs. It was like being

strapped to the front bumper of an Indy 500 car.

ZOOOOM!

We hauled butt, zipping in wild terror over leaves of grass as big as trees,

pieces of gravel the size of beach balls, and bugs the size of collies. That

much I'm used to. I've morphed small animals before.

But what was sick was that I really, really wanted to stop and eat some of

those bugs. There was this one beetle, kind of bluish-black, and the mouse

brain was like, Ah, cool, lunch!

But it was more terrified than it was hungry, so we just kept running like

out-of-control lunatics, and I missed out on the flavor of bug. Eventually,

we were able to get some control.

<Ax. You okay, man?> I called to him in thought-speak.

<I am fine. But these mice have very powerful instincts.>

<Yeah. Scared little things, aren't they?>

<Animals develop instincts for good reasons,> Ax said darkly. <If the mouse

is cautious, it probably has good reasons.>

<Well, if we see any cats, we'll just morph back,> I said.

<Yes. If we live long enough.>

In any case, we toddled off to the party, two little mice looking for a good

time.

Mouse senses are excellent, fortunately. Hearing is great. The sense of smell

is great. The eyes are decent, but it's hard to see much when you're only an

inch tall and your face is down at dirt level.

Still, I was able to locate Darlene by the sound of her voice. She was talking

to her friends about the usual stuff: school, music, some cute guy on TV. Ax

and I hid underneath Darlene's chair, so I was able to hear everything pretty

well.

All I could see of Darlene was this enormous chair roof over my head --

stretched bands of interwoven plastic, bulging down like they might burst

and crush me. Quite a distance away I could see her legs, looking like two

gigantic pink pillars.

<Well, this is boring,> I said to Ax.

<What did you expect?>

<I expected them to be talking about me, naturally,> I said. Then it occurred

to me. I could thought-speak to Darlene! I would just say the word "Marco"

in her head. She wouldn't know where it had come from. She'd probably think

someone said it aloud. With thought-speak, you can either do it so everyone

hears you, or sort of aim it at just one person.

<Marco,> I said.

"What?" Darlene asked. "What about Marco?"

"Nothing about Marco," this girl named Kara said.

"Good, because I don't even want his name mentioned at my party. He's

such a jerk. I mean, after what he did? Throwing Baby Ruth bars in my pool?

Panicking everybody?"

"He's so immature," a girl named Ellen said.

"No duh," Darlene said. "He thinks he's so cool and so cute, but he's totally

not. He always makes jokes about stuff that aren't even funny."

Well. I could stand them saying I was immature. That's what girls always say.

But saying I wasn't funny?

I would show them funny. Oh, yes.

I took off. I ran for the legs. Ax came after me, yelling, <What are we

doing?!>

<We're just going to see how good Darlene's sense of humor is,> I yelled

back. I ran for that big pink leg. I saw the foot pressing heavily down on the

grass. I shot past her heel, which was like a wall to me, and aimed for the

toes.

Let me just say this: Darlene thinks she's perfect in every way. But her

toenails definitely needed trimming.

I scampered right onto her foot. I zoomed across her foot, then scrabbled

wildly around her ankle and back over her toes.

<Yee-HAH!> I crowed to Ax. <That'll give her something else to complain

about!>

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhhhh!" Darlene screamed.

Up flew the foot! I jumped off just in time. And then she was outta there,

screaming and yammering like a total ninny.

Naturally, I chased her. And naturally, Ax came with me.

It was total, absolute fun! I'm sorry, I know it was wrong and all, but man, it

was so cool.

That is, until I heard Hans yelling about how he was going to stomp me. That

would never do. I did not intend to be stomped by Hans's big stinky foot.

I heard Jake's big voice yelling. And Cassie's sweeter -- but still annoyed

-- voice.

<Oh, man. It's Jake,> I said to Ax. <Busted.>

I raced for cover, looking for a place to morph back to human. Big stomping

feet were landing all around me. They were slow, but man, they were big.

Everyone was totally overreacting. I mean, give me a break, I was two inches

long! How scary could I possibly be?

Then it occurred to me. The house! We could run inside, race down to the

basement where no one would be, morph back real fast, and then...well, and

then there I would be, just me and an Andalite. That wouldn't look too

strange.

<Ax! Stay with me. We need to demorph. Then you have to do your human

morph real quick, okay?>

<I have a feeling, Marco, that this was not a good idea.>

<Nah. Everything according to plan.>

ZOOM! Over the threshold onto the patio! ZOOM! Into the house itself!

ZOOM! Past a hysterical Darlene, who was on the couch with a pillow over

her head.

ZOOM! A long carpet till we hit linoleum.

Suddenly, the scent of dark places. Mouse places! Yes, it was going to work!

We ran across a step and leapt, falling ... falling ... PLOP! to land on the

next step. Again and again, step after step, at a speed that felt like we were

flying rockets.

It was so cool! If you overlooked the fact that it was maybe slightly stupid.

<Don't worry,> I called to Jake in thought-speak. <We're in the basement.

We're going to demorph. Just make sure no one comes down to the basement

looking for mice.>

We lost our pursuers. No one followed us down the steps. And even as I ran,

I started to demorph.

I was halfway back to human, a strange mix of mouse tail and huge ears and

human legs -- a scary-looking creature. The way Mickey Mouse would look if

he'd been invented by Stephen King. Ax looked even worse, half-mouse,

half-Andalite.

Just as I was thinking, Hey, this will all be fine, the entire world just flew

apart.

Crrrrr-RUNCH!

Sunlight streamed down! The entire roof had been ripped away! The entire

roof!

Wood and beams and concrete just shattered and ripped and fell in huge

chunks. I couldn't even make sense of it. I mean, the entire world around me

was just being shredded. Shredded, like the universe was being run through a

food processor.

Then I saw it. It was gigantic! Enormous! A creature that seemed to be made

of nothing but teeth and blades and destruction. It was like twenty Hork-

Bajir glued together and given dragon wings.

B - R - R - A - A - A - K !

It was ripping the house apart with unbelievable power.

The noise was terrifying. The scream of ripping wood. The shattering crunch

of concrete being torn up -- just torn up, like it was nothing! Pipes bending.

Wires sizzling and popping as they exploded into showers of sparks.

"Look out!" I yelled to Ax with my now-human voice. Beams were falling

around us. Splinters were flying through the air.

I barely noticed that I had finished morphing. I was human again. Somehow

Ax had kept his concentration and was now fully in his human morph.

We were defenseless. Two kids without a weapon between us.

Above our heads, where there had been a house just seconds before, the

beast hovered in the sun.

It looked down at us with a dozen weird eyes that seemed to be stuck here

and there at random. It stared at us the way I'd seen Tobias stare at his

prey.

It was going to destroy us. There was no question in my mind. And no

question that it could.

"Oh, man," I moaned. "I don't like this."

Then ... the eyes all flickered at once. The beast seemed uncertain.

And to my utter relief and utter amazement, the thing began to disperse. He

became dust again. Just a cloud of dust that thinned and disappeared.

I was shaking so badly I couldn't stand up. But I was alive.

-----------

MEGAMORPHS #2


CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
The ground shook!

"HrrrrRRROOOOAAAARRR-unh!"

It was so loud it had to be right behind me! I was screaming. I was crying as I

ran. It was panic. Pure panic. Leaves slapped my face. Twigs whipped my

bare arms.

I glanced back. Through my blurring tears I saw it bounding, leaping, running

after us.

Forty feet long, from head to tail. Twelve thousand pounds. Seven-inch,

serrated-edged teeth.

But it was the eyes that were the worst. They were intelligent, eager eyes.

Hungry eyes. Eyes that seemed almost to laugh at me, helpless creature

that I was.

Could I morph? Morph what? Morph what? There was nothing that could

stand against a Tyrannosaurus rex. Nothing! My gorilla morph? The

Tyrannosaurus would eat it in two bites.

I saw flashes of the others, all in flat-out panic run. It would have us all.

None of us could fight it. Not even Ax, who was pulling ahead of the

stumbling humans.

No! Wait! There was a way!

"Get small!" I screamed. "Morph small!" The words tore my throat as I

yelled.

Wham!

The root seemed to reach up out of the ground to grab my foot. I hit hard. I

sucked air but nothing came. My lungs were emptied. Heart pounding. The

others kept running. Didn't realize I'd fallen. Roll!

I rolled over just as the impossibly big talon came raking down.

WHAMMM! The tyrannosaur's foot hit like a dropped safe. I bounced from the

impact.

Down came the head, teeth flashing, eyes greedy for my flesh.

I sucked in a breath. Rolled, scrambled, tripped, kicked forward and landed

in a fern at the base of a tree. The tree trunk was no more than a foot in

diameter.

I pulled myself behind it. No way to hide.

The dinosaur kicked at me with one foot. I dodged.

"Morph, you idiot!" someone yelled at me. I recognized my own voice, but I

couldn't imagine speaking the words.

What? What could I morph? What was small enough?

SCRRRRRAACK! WHAAAMMM! A talon came down and scraped the bark off

the tree before it hit. I yanked my leg out a split second before it would

have been crushed.

Talon? Yes, huge bird feet, Bird, that was the trick. See if the big, evil creep

could fly!

I focused some part of my mind on the image of an osprey. Small, too small

for the T-rex to care about. And it could fly.

I felt the changes begin, but the Tyrannosaurus hadn't gotten to be the

biggest flesh-eater in history by being stupid. It came around the tree for

me. And now my body was growing clumsy as my hands shrank and my legs

thinned.

You have no concept of how powerful that Tyrannosaurus was. You cannot

possibly even begin to understand till you've cowered beneath it, peeing in

your pants, and wanting to dig a hole in the dirt.

I scrambled around the tree. Jaws opened four feet wide and snapped shut

an inch from my head.

"Aaaahhhh!" I screamed in sheer terror.

The big lizard dodged the other way and it roared in frustration. He was so

close I felt the sound waves. I saw his pebbly-skinned throat vibrate. And

worse, I saw into his mouth. A mouth glittering with teeth like butcher's

knives and stained with the blood of his last kill.

I scrambled away again, stiff, barely able to move.

CRUNCH!

The Tyrannosaurus chomped its jaws shut on the tree itself. He began to

twist and rip the tree, like a dog with a bone. Rending, tearing, bark flying,

white wood pulp chewed to chips.

In a few seconds the tree would no longer be between us. And already I was

too far morphed to run to another tree.

Grrr-UNCH! Scree-EEEE-crrUNCH! RrrrOOOAAAARRR!

The Tyrannosaurus had gone mad with frustration. It was screaming in rage,

ripping, grinding, throwing its huge weight back and forth. Shaking the

ground. Bruising the air with its insane roar. Just a few seconds more and ...

Crrr-SNAP!

The tree fell slowly away, crashing down through layers of vines and ferns.

The Tyrannosaurus lunged, mouth open, red tongue lolling, teeth wet with

drool.

I tried to leap back. I fell. Rolled. Thrashed, out of control.

Wings! I had wings!

Too late!

The mouth came down over me like some kind of earthmover, like a diesel

shovel. A prison of teeth all round me. The jaw bit into the dirt itself. A

root! Teeth snagged by a root. I flapped, ran, beat, rolled, scrambled.

Out between the jaws!

Running on osprey talons, running, wings open, flapping.

SNAP! Jaws an inch behind my tail.

Fly, fly, fly you idiot!

Bonk.

I never saw the tree trunk. I hit it head-on. I was stunned, senseless,

helpless.

The Tyrannosaurus roared in triumph.

It towered above me, huge, irresistible. Pure destruction. Why had it chased

me? I wondered. Why? I was too small, wasn't I?

But of course. I'd been in predator morph before. I knew why. Because killing

was what it did. Killing was what it was. It had gone beyond food or hunger

now. It simply wanted to do what it did best.

I flapped weakly, too dazed to move.

Down came the head. Down from so far above. Down it came.

A swift movement to my right. What was it?

Fwapp!Fwapp!Fwapp!

An Andalite tail, too fast to be seen, struck three times.

The dinosaur swung its head hard. Ax went flying and rolled twice as he hit

the ground.

The T-rex sagged. Tried to roar. And fell.

Human hands snatched me up as six tons of malevolence fell to the ground.


-------

MEGAMORPHS 3

MARCO
Ax was beside me. Andalite, but right there beside me.

It was gloomy where we were. Maybe night, maybe not. There were murky

candles somewhere, out of direct sight.

We were in a world of wood. A low wooden ceiling made up of planks hung on

humongous, elephant leg timbers. There was a wooden floor beneath my bare

feet, a grate, actually. Ax's hooves kept slipping through the holes.

The floor was tilted, moving slightly from semi-level to definitely not level.

Around us, forming a sort of wall, enclosing an oval space, were ropes, piled

high, almost to the ceiling. Rope as thick as Mark McGuire's biceps.

<Where are we?> Ax wondered.

"A boat. Ship of some kind," I said. "Down below. Morph to human, man."

<Perhaps not just yet,> Ax said. <We appear to be trapped. Enclosed behind

this barrier of rope.>

He was right. We were trapped.

I tried to push at a coil of rope. My fingers were trembling.

"Sorry," I said.

<Sorry for what?>

I leaned against the wall of rope and threw up.

Jake had slipped right under the water. Right under. They'd shoved him over

the side and I couldn't stop them.

A hole in his head. Like someone had put it there with a drill.

I'd told Cassie we could protect him. I'd agreed: Crayak wouldn't have him.

But it had happened so fast. One minute, nothing. The next minute, death

eveywhere. No arguing, no heroic actions, no nothing. It had taken a

millisecond.

And now...what could I do for him now? Nothing. No one could help him. His

parents...he would never come home. What could I tell them? What could

anyone tell them? I climbed up on the rope and peered out through the

narrow gap. I saw two men, both with backs to us. They were both wearing

rough dungarees that looked like they'd been made out of canvas. Stiffer

than new jeans. One was an Asian guy. The other white.

The black man was carrying a small barrel. The white man walked up behind

him, produced a sort of short wooden club and slammed it down hard on the

other man's head.

He clubbed the Asian man again as he fell.

My mouth opened to yell. But Ax's Andalite hand was over my face.

<It's him,> Ax said. He had managed to get his stalk eyes high enough to see.

The white guy -- Visser Four -- hefted the barrel and carried it out of our

sight.

"We have to get out of here!" I hissed, pulling Ax's hand away. "Morph to

something small enough to...

Fwapp!

Twang!

Ax whipped his tail, again, again, again, and each time another loop of the

rope cable parted.

<This is quicker. I am very tired of being too late,> Ax said.

"Got that right, man."

Visser Four was no longer in sight. Ax began to morph to human.

"Catch up when you can," I said. I took off in the direction Visser Four had

gone. A hallway going left and right. A stairway going down. Which way?

I looked down. A partial footprint, outlined in red.

Blood. From the man Visser Four had clubbed. I followed the trail down,

down to a deck still darker and gloomier. And smellier.

I saw him quite suddenly. He was hunched over, waddling, carrying something

heavy low to the ground.

The barrel. Something pouring out of it. It looked like liquid. No. A dark

powder.

Gunpowder!

The Controller was laying a gunpowder trail so he could ignite the trail, run

and blow up the barrel.

He wasn't ready yet. Neither was I.

I began to morph. It was a morph I'd done many times before. So I was used

to the way my face turned rubbery. The way coarse black hair sprouted

from every inch of my body except my face. The way my shoulders and neck

swelled to ludicrous proportions. The way muscle layered onto muscle.

I'd been a gorilla before. But this was different. I savored every powerful

muscle and sinew and steel-beam bone. I was going to enjoy using them.

<Hey,> I said.

The controller who'd been Visser Four spun around.

I swung a fist the size of a football.

BOOOM!

The deck jumped!

Something shockingly powerful had hit the ship. My blow missed. Visser Four

bolted.

<Not this time!> I yelled and went after him.

I didn't know where I was, or when I was, or who was driving the ship, So I

didn't know who was going to see a gorilla racing around, and I didn't care.

Visser Four had made a fatal mistake. This was a ship. There were only two

ways off it: Swim, or use the Time Matrix.


He could lead me to the Time Matrix, or he could die trying to outrun me.

--------------

MEGAMORPHS 4

TOBIAS
There were four of us slated to become full members. There was a police

officer named Edward. There was a newspaper reporter named Kiko. There

was a guy who managed local bands. His name was Barry.

And then, there was me.

Why me? The question was impossible to avoid. How did I fit into this group?

Was it really true that The Sharing didn't care if you were young or old,

male, female, black, white, Asian, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, atheist,

straight, gay, rich or poor?

I mean, that's what they said. But lots of people say that. They don't always

mean it. Mostly people look for ways to treat other people like dirt.

They put us in a small room, dimly-lit. Like a dentist's waiting room only

with mood lighting and no magazines. There was the door we came in. And a

door that hadn't opened yet.

I looked at the others. Edward and Kiko paid no attention to me. Barry

nodded. They must have been wondering what some kid was doing there.

Adults have an automatic prejudice against kids. They never take kids

seriously, even when they pretend to. At least that's my experience.

I said, "hi," to Barry.

"Hi, kid. What's your name?"

"Tobias."

"Good name. You like music?"

"Sure."

"Ever hear of Format Cee's Colon?"

I shook my head. He looked disappointed. "Yeah, well you will. Next big thing.

You heard it here, first. They just need a break. We've got a video, but we

can't get any play on MTV."

I nodded like I cared. "I guess you need that, huh?"

"Absolutely. They say they can help."

"Who?"

"The Sharing. Who else?"

"Ah."

The door opened. The door that hadn't opened before. Mr. Chapman. Our

vice principal at school. So far my meetings with Mr. Chapman had been in

his office. Him asking me to tell him who had beat me up. Or who had

pantsed me and shoved me into the girl's bathroom. And me refusing to tell.

"Kiko?" Chapman said.

She jerked to her feet. Straightened her trim skirt. Chapman gave me a

friendly wink and led Kiko away.

Barry fell silent. He was nervous.

The policeman wasn't in uniform, but I knew he was a cop. My uncle has

been arrested a couple of times in his life and cops are the one thing he

really gets passionate about. He's always pointing them out. So I know a

policeman when I see one.

Basically, I figured if my uncle hated them, they were probably all right. It

set my mind at ease a little seeing him there. I mean, if he was joining it had

to be okay. Right?

The door opened again and I jerked involuntarily.

It was Bill. "Hey, switch to decaf, man," he joked.

"Sorry."

"Let's go."

I stood up. Barry gave me a nod of encouragement. The cop just stared

blankly ahead of him.

I walked through the door.

Bill led me down a hallway. Suddenly, in the middle of the hallway he

stopped and gave me a mysterious look. He pressed his hand against a small

rectangular panel set about chest high.

Suddenly a door appeared. It opened on darkness.

We stepped through. Not completely dark. There was a red light. Metal

stairs, leading down.

I hesitated. Bill laughed. "Don't worry, it's just a bit of melodrama."

Down. Not far. Three flights. To a landing, and another door, and another

hallway. Another door.

Open. Inside, a table. Six chairs. Chapman sat at the head of the table.

Beside him, imperious, impatient, almost menacing, was the man who had

spoken at the meeting earlier. Mr. Visser.

Kiko sat to Chapman's right. She smiled at me. A weird smile. The side of her

face spasmed suddenly, but then she was smiling again.

In one corner was a sort of metal tub. Like the whirpools the football team

uses. Stainless steel, just big enough for one person. There was some sort of

harness or whatever on the lip of the tub, and a steel chair.

"Tobias," Chapman said.

"Yes, sir?"

"Bill tells us that you are ready to become a full member of The Sharing."

I nodded.

"Why do you wish to join us?"

I shrugged. "Because . . . I . . . Because you know, what they're always

talking about. What Mr. Visser was saying. Being part of something greater

than myself. Part of something big."

Chapman glanced at Mr. Visser. Nervously, I thought.

Mr. Visser took a deep breath. "Is all this necessary?"

Chapman said, "receptivity is helpful, Visser. There is less chance of . . . of

problems later."

"Yes, yes, but get on with it."

Chapman forced his features back into a pleasant smile. "Are you ready,

Tobias? Is this what you truly want?"

What I wanted? I wanted to fly. To spread my wings, catch the breeze, feel

my talons leave the branch, soar as the thermal raised me up to the clouds.

What?

Bill nudged me. "Yes," I said.

"And you will surrender yourself to The Sharing?"

"Yes." The image had been so strong. So real. Flying high, seeing through

eyes that were like telescopes.

Chapman nodded to Bill. Bill held my shoulders from behind and guided me

to the whirpool thing.

"Sit there," he said.

I sat. The chair was cold. The surface of the liquid in the tub was still. Dark.

Heavy-looking, as if it maybe wasn't water.

No big deal, I told myself. Lots of organizations have weird initiations and

stuff. No problem. But I felt off, now. The vision, what was it? Some

desperate fantasy?

"Place your right hand here," Bill said.

I placed my hand in what could only be a shackle. A handcuff. My insides

were churning now. I was placing myself totally in their power. What was I

doing? What was I doing?

Bill fastened the cuff.

"Now your left hand."

No, no, this was insane. No, this was wrong. No. No. Handcuffs? I looked

pleadingly at Mr. Chapman. He was the vice principal, he wouldn't be part of

anything bad, would he?

But Mr. Visser was in the way. It was his bored face I saw.

I placed my left hand. Bill fastened the cuff.

"Now lay your head down, sideways, in the harness," Bill instructed.

"What is this?" I asked. "What are you doing? I mean, what's going to

happen?"

"Your whole world is going to change, Tobias," Bill said soothingly. "You will

see and know and understand everything."

"I don't think I . . ." I couldn't breathe. A voice in my head was screaming,

'run! Run!' My mind was reeling. "I think I changed my mind."

Bill suppressed a smile. "You want to leave The Sharing? You want to leave

all of us? All your friends? After all we've done for you? Okay, Tobias. But

what will you do, then? Where will you go? What's your future?"

My heart was pounding. "I don't know," I said desperately. "I just . . . I . . ."

"There is no 'I', Tobias. What are you? One lonely, messed up kid. No one

loves you. No one cares. No one but us. Put your head in the harness."

I shook my head, wildly, firmly. "No. No. I don't want to do this."

Bill smiled. He laughed. "Well, guess what? It's too late."

He grabbed my head in his two hands and shoved it down.

"No! Mr. Chapman! No!"

Chapman got up and came over. He helped force me down. I was screaming,

crying, yelling now. Helpless. My hands held firm.

"Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"

The harness was closed over my neck, around my head. I couldn't move it. I

could barely move my mouth to beg for mercy.

Bill and Chapman stepped back. There was a whirring motor somewhere

close. The side of my head was forced down toward the surface of the liquid.

"No! No! No!"

"You see, in the end we have to use force," Mr. Visser said.

"True, Visser, but we only have this problem in twenty-one percent of the

cases of willing members. And there are sixty-four percent fewer incidents

of contested control with voluntary hosts."

"I know the statistics," Mr. Visser snapped. "Just do it. I have thirty

minutes left before I have to demorph."

I heard all this like it was coming from far away. I listened hoping to hear

some note of mercy, some sense that maybe this was all a terrible joke, a

hazing, something.

My ear touched the water.

A moment later, something touched my ear.


------------
ALTERNAMORPHS: The First Journey

Okay, listen up. It's Jake. You probably already know what's going on around

here. But just in case you don't, here's the deal: Rachel, Tobias, Cassie,

Marco, and me are five kids and one alien out to save the world.
No, this isn't a joke. It's real. About as real as you can get. Real enough for

screaming nightmares about the things you've seen and done.

Because sometimes the stuff you see in the movies, the stuff you thought

could never, ever happen to you... well, it can happen. It does happen. I've

seen it.

I can't tell you my last name. Or where I live. There's an alien invasion going

on. Right here on Earth. But I'm not talking little green men with ray guns.

I'm talking a much smarter way to conquer a world. Just invade people's

brains.

I'm not nuts. I've seen it. And because of that, my friends and I were given a

special power - the power to morph into any animal we touch. To acquire

it's DNA. It's the only way we can fight the Yeerks - that's what they call

themselves. We have to find a way to stop these slugs that get into people's

heads and make them slaves.

But things have gotten worse. We need backup. A new Animorph. We've tried

this once before and it didn't work out. At all. We're going to try again. So, if

you're interested in joining us, let's go. Just remember not to read these

missions like a normal book. Check out the instructions and follow them.

You get to choose your morphs, but I'm warning you now - choose them very

carefully.

You have to deal with the consequences. They can either help you, or get

you totally annihilated.

This isn't a game. It's serious stuff. So if you can handle it, turn to page one.

Oh. one more thing? Good luck. You'll need it.

-----------
ALTERNAMORPHS: The Next Passage

My name is Rachel.
Who am I?

Just a kid. A middle school kid with divorced parents and two little sisters. I

go to school, do my homework, hang out with my friends. If you saw me I bet

you wouldn't look twice. Just another suburban mall rat.

Nothing special.

Funny how that sounds like an insult.

I bet you hate being ordinary. I bet you long for something to make you feel

different and special. You're probably just waiting for something exciting to

happen to you.

Be careful what you wish for.

One night something exciting did happen to me. I was given a weapon. A

wonderful and awful weapon. The ability to morph, to change from an

average kid into an animal. Into a bird or insect.

Only five human beings possess this weapon. Me; Cassie, my best friend;

Jake, my cousin and our leader; Marco, our own personal clown; and Tobias,

our lost soul. Five humans unique in all the universe. Guess that makes us

pretty special.

But along with the power to morph came a mission: Save the world. I'm not

kidding. This is no joke.

See, Earth is being invaded by the Yeerks, aliens with weak, repulsive

bodies. Slugs. Parasites.

The Yeerks want our human bodies. Our strong legs and hands. Our sensitive

ears, mouths, and eyes. They are taking over human hosts, entering their

brains, controlling them, rendering them utterly helpless.

So we fight. The five of us humans and Ax, an alien kid. An Andalite. The

Andalites battle the Yeerks throughout the galaxy. A war on too many

fronts. One day the Andalites may send reinforcements to Earth. Until then,

we fight alone.

Each battle changes us. Transforms us on the inside as much as on the

outside.

War is not a video game. In a real war, you make desperate decisions and

deal with desperate consequences. You spill blood and your blood gets

spilled. You brush up against death. You change. You're warped until ever

being average and ordinary again is an impossible dream.

What would you do if you were given the chance to be different, unique,

extraordinary? If someone offered you the ability to morph, would you take

it? And if you did take it, how long do you think you would survive?

This is your chance to find out.

But I'm warning you. Think about it first. Think deeply. Ask yourself: Can you

handle it?



我喜欢千万法，我用压码和右脑给千万别学英语一个杠杆，撬起零基础到达自由王国；压码只有一个指标：通过滞后提高速度，速度就是质量,给它注入一个加速器，就会产生一个个奇迹.
[2 楼] | Posted:2005-02-14 17:22|