I led the way toward what I hoped was the center of this universe. The patches of sky grew more varied over our heads. And the patches of different environments grew more numerous. Soon we were walking through a place that was only half Earth, with the rest divided between gentle Andalite countryside and harsh Yeerk lands.

“I like your planet, from what I’ve seen of it,” Loren said. “It’s like Earth, only without the houses and buildings. But you must have cities and all somewhere. I mean, you build spaceships. You have incredible technology.”

<Long ago we had cities,> I explained. <But we were free-roaming herd animals to begin with. I mean, that’s how we evolved. Millions of years ago Andalites moved in vast herds, which would split off into smaller herds at different times of the year. Then, gradually, we got used to forming smaller herds. Families, really. Each family made its scoop, and we each held our own grazing lands. All this Andalite environment you see is part of my family’s grazing land.>

We came to a patch of Yeerkish territory and skirted around the blackened vegetation and sluggish pools. On the other side was a wide band of Andalite land which we walked through.

<Once we evolved to form families, we began to study science and nature. And again, over millions of years, we learned to build things. You know — weapons and vehicles that let us fly over the land. And communicators for extending the reach of thought-speak. Scoops became larger. Families joined with other families. Buildings grew. Soon we had thousands of Andalites all crammed together without enough grazing space. But we were learning space travel at the same time. Still, we weren’t happy. We knew something was wrong. We broke down our cities, divided the land, and went back to life in simple family scoops. We kept building spaceships, but we did it in little bits and pieces, here and there, spread out through the tens of thousands of scoops. My own family does some of that. We design heat transfer components for fighters. Another family builds the pieces from our designs. Another family transports the pieces to the spaceport. I guess the three spaceports are about as close as we come to what you would call a city now.>

“We’re very different, aren’t we?” Loren said. She sounded sad.

<Yes. In some ways. But not so very different in others.>

“When all this is done, you’ll go back to your planet. I’ll go back to mine. And you’ll erase all my memories of this.”

I was startled by the idea. <Loren, we no longer have the Jahar. Or any ship. I can’t erase your memories without that technology.>

“But if you could, you would?”

I hadn’t thought about it. But suddenly I realized the truth. It shocked me. <No. I wouldn’t.>

“Why not?”

<Because … because I don’t think after all that’s happened I could stand to be the only person alive who knew the truth. And I don’t think I could stand having you forget me, Loren.>

Loren nodded. She smiled. “I care about you, too, Elfangor. I care a lot.”

I was puzzled. Had I said I cared about her? No. Not in those words. And yet I did. I did care about this alien who no longer seemed so alien.

<We would be able to move faster if you climbed on my back as you did before,> I suggested.

“I guess we would.”

She climbed on my back and I set off at a run. I was confident now that I knew the pattern of this universe. And I was fairly sure that we would find the Time Matrix at the very center of the swirl. But would we find that Visser Thirty-two had solved the puzzle before us?

The different environments were broken into smaller and smaller patches, and now there was a roughly equal amount of each of the three planets. It became more and more difficult to go around the Yeerk areas.

We came to one Yeerk area that stretched directly across our path. <I think we should go through it,> I said.

I stepped gingerly into the Yeerk area. Instantly the air was warmer, almost stifling. Humidity shot up so that my fur clung to me.

I closed my hooves to the sparse Yeerk vegetation. I didn’t trust those dark red plants. A bright tongue shot up from the ground, as I had seen happen before. It licked the air, searching for us, but these creatures or plants — or whatever they were — were used to slower prey. I easily stepped out of its range.

A pall settled over us as we crossed a landcape that seemed designed to be depressing. And then, at last, we reached good Andalite grass again. Grass and trees and the scoop of a friend I had known all my life.

“Is that your home?”

<No. It’s the scoop of a friend’s family.>

“Maybe your friend is around.”

<That’s what scares me. Your mother … that McDonald person … I don’t want to see my friend that way.>

Suddenly I stumbled. My right forehoof had caught on a rock.

“Elfangor! Elfangor! Something is happening!” Loren cried. “My fingernails! They’re growing!”

She held up her hands so that my back-turned stalk eyes could see them. The hard portion at the end of her human fingers had grown half an inch.

<Your hair is growing, too,> I said.

She felt it. “My God, it’s grown an inch. It’s like it would grow in a few weeks!”

<My hooves are growing, too. That’s why I tripped. It’s something I was afraid of. As we get closer to the center of this swirl universe, time is accelerating. We are going to age faster than normal.>

“Then we’d better hurry!”

I redoubled my speed, careful to lift my scruffy hooves well clear on each step.

The entire false universe was coming together now. There were no longer clearly different patches of Andalite, human, or Yeerk terrain. Trees and grass, scoop and house, and sludgy natural Yeerk pools all seemed to meld together.

It was like walking through a surreal nightmare. The sky itself seemed to swoop down, to gather and swirl in patterns of dark blue, light blue, and lightning-wracked green.

“Okay, now this is weird,” Loren said. But her voice, too, seemed to swirl into patterns that made it sound musical and strange.

I tripped and fell forward, throwing Loren free. My hooves had become totally unmanageable. I whipped my tail blade forward and quickly trimmed my hooves. It was a rough job, and as soon as I had cut away the excess, they began growing out again.

I looked at Loren and had to stop myself from crying out. Her fingernails were two inches long! Her toenails were sticking through the fabric of her artificial hooves! And her golden hair was so long it reached to the ground.

She stumbled forward, pointing. “Look! Look!”

I had already seen what she was just noticing: the swirling tornado that was the very center of our universe. It was a vortex, a tornado made up of the very substance of our three worlds. Sky and soil and living things all swirled insanely around us.

“Look out!” Loren ducked her head as something that looked like a human house, twisted and stretched, whipped by us.

<The Time Matrix! It should be in there!> I cried.

“In there? How can we go in there? It’s impossible!”

<It’s the only way. The Time Matrix is either in there or … or there’s nothing beyond that swirl but emptiness and we’ll be trapped inside that vortex forever.>

“Nice choice,” Loren said. “And by the way, that was sarcasm, too.”

<Yes, I’m beginning to recognize it,> I said. <We have to close our eyes. Block out everything you see, or think you see, and dive in.>

“Take my hand, Elfangor.”

I did. And together we pushed forward into a vortex made up of the very substance of time and space. A swirl of raw space-time.