I raised my hand to look at it. Fingers. Five of them.

"I don't know? Am I okay?"

"You seem to have all your major limbs and so on," Tobias said. "But it was a weird morph.

You got poisoned pretty badly, I think. You seemed to be unconscious while you morphed."

"I'm alive," I said, feeling a little surprised. But of course the amount of poison that had almost killed me when I was a roach was nothing to me as a human. "Where are we?"

"On the roof of a fast-food restaurant."

"You saved my butt, Tobias."

"No problem. I am your own personal Air Force, dude. Just call in the air support anytime you need it."

I sat up. "How are the others?"

"Worried about you. I checked up on them while you were coming out of morph. They're scattered around, but okay. Everyone morphed back. Ax is already in human morph again.

Cassie has him with her."

"I guess I should get down from here," I said.

"Yeah," Tobias agreed. "So. Marco told me what you found out. This is major."

"Definitely major," I agreed. I stood up and began to look around for a way to escape from the roof. I was too tired and rattled to morph again.

"Marco says Visser Three was there. In a human morph. The guy who showed up in the limo, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, roach eyes are pretty lame. I can only go by what I heard."

"I saw him leave, right after I lifted you out of there," Tobias said.

36 I stopped looking for a ladder to the ground. Tobias was being too talkative. Too persistent.

"Tobias? What is it? What are you trying to get around to telling me?"

"When Visser Three left, Tom was with him."

My first reaction was relief. Visser Three had ordered someone executed in that meeting. It had not been Tom.

"How, um . . . how did they look together? Visser Three and Tom?"

"Tom was the only one from the meeting who went with Visser Three, aside from his guards.

Tom was acting sort of careful around Visser Three. But he looked like he was pretty cocky around the guards. It's hard to say, Jake. But if I had to guess, I'd say Tom and Visser Three are tight."

"Yeah," I said. "I have a feeling maybe Tom is kind of responsible for a big part of this hospital plan." I shut up and thought for a second.

"What will Visser Three do to Tom if this great plan is destroyed?"

Tobias said nothing. He knew the answer.

Those who fail Visser Three die.

37 Chapter 9

I saw the lane open up between Juan and Terry. A clear lane to the basket.

Thonk. Thonk. Thonk. My right hand dribbled the ball. I stuck my left arm out, ready to ward off Juan if he came after me. I powered ahead.

Sneakers squeaked on the polished wood floor of the gym. One of the guys on my team yelled, "Go, Jake!"

Juan saw my move and came after me. But I was just a little too fast. Thonk! Thonk! Thonk!

Stop. Pivot my back to Juan. Lock on to the basket, focus, focus . . .

I jumped and arced the ball toward the hoop.

It hit the backboard. It hit the rim. It bounced away. No score.

I fell back against Juan and Terry - the three of us ended up in a tangle on the gym floor, arms and legs everywhere. The ball rolled out of bounds.

"No wonder you never made the team," Terry said, laughing as he helped pull me to my feet.

I had tried out for the team, but I didn't make the cut. At the time it had bothered me. Mostly because Tom had been the big basketball hero when he was at our school. I wanted to live up to that.

Now, I realized I didn't have time for after- school sports anyway. And playing during gym class was enough basketball.

"Yeah? Well, I beat Juan with some of my excellent moves, and he ison the team," I said. I reached back to help pull Juan up. "Although I can't figure out why they would want some guy who looks like he's made out of straws."

"I'm just saving my best stuff for the finals," Juan said. "I don't want to waste my secret, killer moves on you, Jake. And now you practically crushed my legs, you big ox. Man, you ought to be playing football."

"Good idea." I grinned at Juan. He's about five-eleven and weighs like ten pounds. "Let me practice my tackling on you."

Just then the coach whistled, which was the signal to hit the showers.

"Saved by the whistle, Juan," I said.

"You should have inherited some of Tom's moves," Terry said. "That brother of yours has a jump shot."

38 "Man, Tom could have been in college ball easy. At a good school, too. If he would have stuck with it," Juan chimed in. "That boy has the gift."

They were right. Tom did have the gift. But he had dropped out of basketball. The Yeerk who controlled him had other plans, I guess.

I showered and got dressed for my next class. Marco was waiting out in the hallway. He had gym next period.

"B-ball today?" he asked. "Cool. I thought it was going to be more wrestling. I hate wrestling.

Getting up close and personal with sweaty guys? Not my idea of a good time."

"The ancient Greeks used to wrestle with no clothes," I pointed out. "Just be glad this isn't Greece."

"And no deodorant," Marco agreed. "It's going to be next Tuesday."

"What's going to be next Tuesday?"

Marco looked over my shoulder and then, very casually, around the hallway to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. "The governor. That's when he's going in the hospital. I'll bet you a hundred bucks it's for hemorrhoids." He grinned. "That's why it's kind of secret. No one is supposed to know."

"So, how do you know?"

"Well, we know from the meeting the other night that he's going, right? So all I had to do is find out what his schedule is going to be. Turns out it's no problem. I told them I was a reporter and they faxed me a copy."

Marco pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and opened it for me to see.

"See? Saturday he gives a speech. Sunday he goes on a TV interview show. Monday he gives another speech. Tuesday . . . oops! Suddenly on Tuesday he begins a five-day vacation, and they don't say where he's going."

"Why would he keep it a secret, I wonder?"

"Oh, puh-leeze. If it is hemorrhoids? A politician getting his hemorrhoids operated on? The jokes are just too easy. Letterman would be talking about it in his monologue."

I smiled. "Yeah, okay. Good work."

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Marco said. "Should we do it then?"

I guess the expression on my face showed how I felt. Marco cocked his head and looked sideways at me. "You okay, man? You had a close call last night. I've been there, so I know it isn't easy to just get past it."

39 "No, I'm cool," I said. I gave him a push. "Besides, since when are you all psyched to go?"

Marco had always been the most reluctant member of the group.

"You know since when," he said softly.

I nodded.

Marco was no longer reluctant to fight the Yeerks. It had become a very personal battle for him.

"Yeah, sorry," I said.

"As far as the others are concerned, I'm still the same old Marco," he said. "I don't want them thinking anything is different. I don't want them feeling sorry for me."

"Now, Marco, how is anyone ever going to feel sorry for you? You're so totally obnoxious."