Jake said, "You know, I wonder if this valley even existed before."
"You think maybe the Ellimist created it?" I asked.
Jake shrugged. "Could be. It's awfully convenient."
I let it drop. I didn't really want to discuss the Ellimist. He'd lied to me. He hadn't given me back my humanity. This was a good moment for the Hork-Bajir. I wasn't going to spoil it by being selfish.
While the others squeezed through the narrow gap in the rocks, I caught a beautiful warm up-draft and went up and over.
Even from the air you might not notice the valley unless you were really looking for it. From high up it just looks like a particularly dense ribbon of trees. Not until I dropped down through
the branches did I see the shallow lake surrounded by sandy shores.
Trees of every type and description were there. Berry bushes ringed a small, sunny meadow. The meadow I'd seen in my mind.
To tell you the truth, that little meadow would have been heaven for a red-tailed hawk. A sweet territory for a bird of prey.
I flew back to meet the others as they came into the valley. They were all standing around gaping.
"It's beautiful," Cassie breathed.
"Are we there?" Jara Hamee asked me.
"Yes. This is the place."
"Good place," Ket Halpak said. "Good place for kawatnoj."
"What?" Jake asked, puzzled.
"l heard them use that word before. Jara Hamee, what does kawatnoj mean?"
Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak laughed their strange Hork-Bajir laugh.
"Kawatnoj small Hork-Bajir. Small Jara Hamee, small Ket Halpak."
"Children," Rachel translated. "They're going to have little baby Hork-Bajir."
"They will be the first Hork-Bajir born into freedom in a very long time," Ax said. "The El-limist did not lie. The valley exists."
"No. He didn't lie," I said. "Not about this, any way. "
"Well. Let's just take our clothes off," Marco said briskly. "You know the rules - in the Garden of Eden you don't wear clothes. Rachel, you can start."
"Garden of Eden?" Jara Hamee echoed. "That is this place?"
"Not unless you want to change your name to Adam," Marco said. "I was just joking, big guy. But look, I have to know. How do you tell a male Hork-Bajir from a female?"
Jara Hamee looked puzzled. "Male? Female? What meaning?"
"Go ahead, Marco, explain," Cassie teased.
But Ket Halpak understood. "Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak different. Jara Hamee have three here." She pointed at her horn blades. "Ket have two."
"That's the only difference?" Marco asked.
"Other difference, too," Ket Halpak said primly. "But only for Hork-Bajir to know."
That got a laugh, even from Ax, which just puzzled the Hork-Bajir even more.
Everyone stayed for a little while, then they all left. Ail but the two Hork-Bajir and me. I stayed to help the Hork-Bajir survey their new home. I found caves where they could spend cold
nights, and explained to them that they could never leave the valley.
Not until Earth was rid of the Yeerks.
Then I flew home. Home to my own meadow. My own territory.
The Hork-Bajir had their Eden. The others all had their homes. I had my meadow.
me next day was Sunday. Not that it mattered to me.
Rachel came to my meadow to see me. But I avoided her. I flew away and left her yelling, "Tobias! Tobias, where are you?" into the woods.
I'm sorry, but I knew why she was there. She'd come to tell me it would all be okay. She'd come to make sure I didn't feel too bad. And knowing Rachel, she'd help me curse and blame the Ellimist.
But I didn't want pity. Not even Rachel's pity. I was dealing with things. But I was barely dealing. And I felt like if someone was nice to me I'd totally fall apart.
I'm a predator. A raptor. A hawk. I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me.
Throughout the day I went about my routine. I went back to mapping out the entrances to the Yeerk pool. I watched the known Controllers come and go.
And I was fine. Until the sun set and night fell. I went to my favorite perch in the old oak tree. And I watched the foxes and raccoons and owls and other night creatures do their work.
Ax came by looking for me. I didn't want to talk to him, either, but he knew I was there.
"Hey, Ax-man," I said.
"Hello, Tobias. How are you?"
"Same as ever. And I really don't want to talk about it," I said bluntly. I guess Ax took the hint. He stayed for just a few more seconds, then made an excuse to take off.
I knew I was just feeling sorry for myself. But too bad. I had reason to feel sorry for myself.
So this is gonna be it, I told myself bitterly. This is your life. No home. No bed. No school. Nothing human.
I formed a picture in my mind of human life. I saw warm golden light and a TV and couches and beds and tables. Food that came in boxes and cans.
Books and magazines. Games. Stuff.
And I saw my parents. At least, the way I remembered my parents - from photographs. I'd
been too young when they'd left to really be able to remember them.
But I used to have pictures of them.
That was the life I would never have again. Human life.
But you know, even as I was wallowing in self-pity, I knew I was being dishonest. Maybe that warm, fuzzy, golden life was how some people lived. But it wasn't how I had lived. Not really.
Okay, I thought. Okay, so maybe my life as a human sucked, too. That doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of my life as a bird.