The Host (6 page)

And the humans
were
brutish and ungovernable. They had killed one another so frequently that murder had been an accepted part of life. The various tortures they'd devised over the few millennia they'd lasted had been too much for me; I hadn't been able to bear even the dry official overviews. Wars had raged over the face of nearly every continent. Sanctioned murder, ordered and viciously effective. Those who lived in peaceful nations had looked the other way as members of their own species starved on their doorstep. There was no equality to the distribution of the planet's bounteous resources. Most vile yet, their offspring–the next generation, which my kind nearly worshipped for their promise–had all too often been victims of heinous crimes. And not just at the hands of strangers, but at the hands of the caretakers they were entrusted to. Even the huge sphere of the planet had been put into jeopardy through their careless and greedy mistakes. No one could compare what had been and what was now and not admit that Earth was a better place thanks to us.

You murder an entire species and then pat yourselves on the back.

My hands balled up into fists.

I could have you disposed of,
I reminded her.

Go ahead. Make my murder official.

I was bluffing, but so was Melanie.

Oh, she thought she wanted to die. She'd thrown herself into the elevator shaft, after all. But that was in a moment of panic and defeat. To consider it calmly from a comfortable chair was something else altogether. I could feel the adrenaline–adrenaline called into being by her fear–shoot through my limbs as I contemplated switching to a more pliant body.

It would be nice to be alone again. To have my mind to myself. This world was very pleasant in so many novel ways, and it would be wonderful to be able to appreciate it without the distractions of an angry, displaced nonentity who should have had better sense than to linger unwanted this way.

Melanie squirmed, figuratively, in the recesses of my head as I tried to consider it rationally.

Maybe I should give up.…

The words themselves made me flinch. I, Wanderer, give up? Quit? Admit failure and try again with a weak, spineless host who wouldn't give me any trouble?

I shook my head. I could barely stand to think of it.

And… this was
my
body. I was used to the feel of it. I liked the way the muscles moved over the bones, the bend of the joints and the pull of the tendons. I knew the reflection in the mirror.

The sun-browned skin, the high, sharp bones of my face, the short silk cap of mahogany hair, the muddy green brown hazel of my eyes–this was me.

I wanted myself. I wouldn't let what was mine be destroyed.

The light was finally fading outside the windows. The day, hot for March, had lingered on and on, as if reluctant to end and set me free.

I sniffled and twisted the wet handkerchief into another knot. “Kathy, you must have other obligations. Curt will be wondering where you are.”

“He'll understand.”

“I can't stay here forever. And we're no closer to an answer than before.”

“Quick fixes aren't my specialty. You are decided against a new host –”

“Yes.”

“So dealing with this will probably take some time.”

I clenched my teeth in frustration.

“And it will go faster and more smoothly if you have some help.”

“I'll be better with making my appointments, I promise.”

“That's not exactly what I mean, though I hope you will.”

“You mean help… other than you?” I cringed at the thought of having to relive today's misery with a stranger. “I'm sure you're just as qualified as any Comforter–more so.”

“I didn't mean another Comforter.” She shifted her weight in the chair and stretched stiffly.

“How many
friends
do you have, Wanderer?”

“You mean people at work? I see a few other teachers almost every day. There are several students I speak to in the halls.…”

“Outside of the school?”

I stared at her blankly.

“Human hosts need interaction. You're not used to solitude, dear. You shared an entire planet's thoughts –”

“We didn't go out much.” My attempt at humor fell flat.

She smiled slightly and went on. “You're struggling so hard with your problem that it's all you can concentrate on. Maybe one answer is to not concentrate quite so hard. You said Melanie grows bored during your working hours… that she is more dormant. Perhaps if you developed some peer relationships, those would bore her also.”

I pursed my lips thoughtfully. Melanie, sluggish from the long day of attempted comfort, did seem rather unenthused by the idea.

Kathy nodded. “Get involved with life rather than with her.”

“That makes sense.”

“And then there are the physical drives these bodies have. I've never seen or heard of their equal. One of the most difficult things we of the first wave had to conquer was the mating instinct. Believe me, the humans noticed when you didn't.” She grinned and rolled her eyes at some memory. When I didn't react as she'd expected, she sighed and crossed her arms impatiently. “Oh, come now, Wanderer. You must have noticed.”

“Well, of course,” I mumbled. Melanie stirred restlessly. “Obviously. I've told you about the dreams.…”

“No, I didn't mean just memories. Haven't you come across anyone that your body has responded to in the present–on strictly a chemical level?”

I thought her question through carefully. “I don't think so. Not so I've noticed.”

“Trust me,” Kathy said dryly. “You'd notice.” She shook her head. “Perhaps you should open your eyes and look around for that specifically. It might do you a lot of good.” My body recoiled from the thought. I registered Melanie's disgust, mirrored by my own.

Kathy read my expression. “Don't let her control how you interact with your kind, Wanderer.

Don't let her control you.”

My nostrils flared. I waited a moment to answer, reining in the anger that I'd never quite gotten used to.

“She does not control me.”

Kathy raised an eyebrow.

The anger tightened my throat. “You did not look too far afield for your current partner. Was that choice controlled?”

She ignored my anger and considered the question thoughtfully.

“Perhaps,” she finally said. “It's hard to know. But you've made your point.” She picked at a string in the hem of her shirt, and then, as if realizing that she was avoiding my gaze, folded her hands resolutely and squared her shoulders. “Who knows how much comes from any given host on any given planet? As I said before, I think time is probably your answer. Whether she grows apathetic and silent gradually, allowing you to make another choice besides this Jared, or…

well, the Seekers are very good. They're already looking for him, and maybe you'll remember something that helps.”

I didn't move as her meaning sank in. She didn't seem to notice that I was frozen in place.

“Perhaps they'll find Melanie's love, and then you can be together. If his feelings are as fervent as hers, the new soul will probably be amenable.”

“No!” I wasn't sure who had shouted. It
could
have been me. I was full of horror, too.

I was on my feet, shaking. The tears that came so easily were, for once, absent, and my hands trembled in tight fists.

“Wanderer?”

But I turned and ran for the door, fighting the words that could not come out of my mouth.

Words that could not be my words. Words that made no sense unless they were hers, but they
felt
like mine. They couldn't be mine. They couldn't be spoken.

That's killing him! That's making him cease to be! I don't want someone else. I want
Jared,
not a
stranger in his body! The body means nothing without him.

I heard Kathy calling my name behind me as I ran into the road.

I didn't live far from the Comforter's office, but the darkness in the street disoriented me. I'd gone two blocks before I realized I was running in the wrong direction.

People were looking at me. I wasn't dressed for exercise, and I wasn't jogging, I was fleeing.

But no one bothered me; they politely averted their eyes. They would guess that I was new to this host. Acting out the way a child would.

I slowed to a walk, turning north so that I could loop around without passing Kathy's office again.

My walk was only slightly slower than a run. I heard my feet hitting the sidewalk too quickly, as though they were trying to match the tempo of a dance song.
Slap, slap, slap
against the concrete. No, it wasn't like a drumbeat, it was too angry. Like violence.
Slap, slap, slap.

Someone hitting someone else. I shuddered away from the horrible image.

I could see the lamp on over my apartment door. It hadn't taken me long to cover the distance. I didn't cross the road, though.

I felt sick. I remembered what it felt like to vomit, though I never had. The cold wetness dewed on my forehead, the hollow sound rang in my ears. I was pretty sure I was about to have that experience for my own.

There was a bank of grass beside the walk. Around a streetlamp there was a well-trimmed hedge. I had no time to look for a better place. I stumbled to the light and caught the post to hold myself up. The nausea was making me dizzy.

Yes, I was definitely going to experience throwing up.

“Wanderer, is that you? Wanderer, are you ill?”

The vaguely familiar voice was impossible to concentrate on. But it made things worse, knowing I had an audience as I leaned my face close to the bush and violently choked up my most recent meal.

“Who's your Healer here?” the voice asked. It sounded far away through the buzzing in my ears. A hand touched my arched back. “Do you need an ambulance?” I coughed twice and shook my head. I was sure it was over; my stomach was empty.

“I'm not ill,” I said I as pulled myself upright using the lamppost for support. I looked over to see who was watching my moment of disgrace.

The Seeker from Chicago had her cell phone in her hand, trying to decide which authority to call. I took one good look at her and bent over the leaves again. Empty stomach or no, she was the last person I needed to see right now.

But, as my stomach heaved uselessly, I realized that there would be a reason for her presence.

Oh, no! Oh, no no no no no no!

“Why?” I gasped, panic and sickness stealing the volume from my voice. “Why are you here?

What's happened?” The Comforter's very uncomforting words pounded in my head.

I stared at the hands gripping the collar of the Seeker's black suit for two seconds before I realized they were mine.

“Stop!” she said, and there was outrage on her face. Her voice rattled.

I was shaking her.

My hands jerked open and landed against my face. “Excuse me!” I huffed. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I was doing.”

The Seeker scowled at me and smoothed the front of her outfit. “You're not well, and I suppose I startled you.”

“I wasn't expecting to see you,” I whispered. “Why are you here?”

“Let's get you to a Healing facility before we speak. If you have a flu, you should get it healed.

There's no point in letting it wear your body down.”

“I don't have a flu. I'm not ill.”

“Did you eat bad food? You must report where you got it.”

Her prying was very annoying. “I did not eat bad food, either. I'm healthy.”

“Why don't you have a Healer check? A quick scan–you shouldn't neglect your host. That's irresponsible. Especially when health care is so easy and effective.” I took a deep breath and resisted the urge to shake her again. She was a full head shorter than I was. It was a fight I would win.

A fight? I turned away from her and walked swiftly toward my home. I was dangerously emotional. I needed to calm down before I did something inexcusable.

“Wanderer? Wait! The Healer –”

“I need no Healer,” I said without turning. “That was just… an emotional imbalance. I'm fine now.”

The Seeker didn't answer. I wondered what she made of my response. I could hear her shoes–high heels–tapping after me, so I left the door open, knowing she would follow me in. I went to the sink and filled a glass with water. She waited silently while I rinsed my mouth and spat. When I was through, I leaned against the counter, staring into the basin.

She was soon bored.

“So, Wanderer… or do you still go by that name? I don't mean to be rude in calling you that.” I didn't look at her. “I still go by Wanderer.”

“Interesting. I pegged you for one that would choose her own.”

“I
did
choose. I chose Wanderer.”

It had long been clear to me that the mild spat I'd overheard the first day I woke in the Healing facility was the Seeker's fault. The Seeker was the most confrontational soul I'd come across in nine lives. My first Healer, Fords Deep Waters, had been calm, kind, and wise, even for a soul.

Yet he had not been able to help reacting to her. That made me feel better about my own response.

I turned around to face her. She was on my small couch, nestled in comfortably as if for a long visit. Her expression was self-satisfied, the bulging eyes amused. I controlled the desire to scowl.

“Why are you here?” I asked again. My voice was a monotone. Restrained. I would not lose control again in front of this woman.

“It's been a while since I heard anything from you, so I thought I would check in personally.

We've still made no headway in your case.”

My hands clamped down on the edge of the counter behind me, but I kept the wild relief from my voice.

“That seems… overzealous. Besides, I sent you a message last night.” Her eyebrows came together in that way she had, a way that made her look angry and annoyed at the same time, as if you, not she, were responsible for her anger. She pulled out her palm computer and touched the screen a few times.

“Oh,” she said stiffly. “I haven't checked my mail today.”

She was quiet as she scanned through what I had written.

“I sent it very early in the morning,” I said. “I was half asleep at the time. I'm not sure how much of what I wrote was memory or dream, or sleep-typing, maybe.” I went along with the words–Melanie's words–as they flowed easily from my mouth; I even added my own lighthearted laugh at the end. It was dishonest of me. Shameful behavior. But I would not let the Seeker know that I was weaker than my host.

For once, Melanie was not smug at having bested me. She was too relieved, too grateful that I had not, for my own petty reasons, given her away.

“Interesting,” the Seeker murmured. “Another one on the loose.” She shook her head. “Peace continues to elude us.” She did not seem dismayed by the idea of a fragile peace–rather, it seemed to please her.

I bit my lip hard. Melanie wanted so badly to make another denial, to claim the boy was just part of a dream.
Don't be stupid,
I told her.
That would be so obvious.
It said much for the repellent nature of the Seeker that she could put Melanie and me on the same side of an argument.

I hate her.
Melanie's whisper was sharp, painful like a cut.

I know, I know.
I wished I could deny that I felt… similarly. Hate was an unforgivable emotion.

But the Seeker was… very difficult to like. Impossible.

The Seeker interrupted my internal conversation. “So, other than the new location to review, you have no more help for me on the road maps?”

I felt my body react to her critical tone. “I never said they were lines on a road map. That's your assumption. And no, I have nothing else.”

She clicked her tongue quickly three times. “But you said they were directions.”

“That's what I think they are. I'm not getting anything more.”

“Why not? Haven't you subdued the human yet?” She laughed loudly. Laughing at me.

I turned my back to her and concentrated on calming myself. I tried to pretend that she wasn't there. That I was all alone in my austere kitchen, staring out the window into the little patch of night sky, at the three bright stars I could see through it.

Well, as alone as I ever was.

While I stared at the tiny points of light in the blackness, the lines that I'd seen over and over again–in my dreams and in my broken memories, cropping up at strange, unrelated moments–flashed through my head.

The first: a slow, rough curve, then a sharp turn north, another sharp turn back the other way, twisting back to the north for a longer stretch, and then the abrupt southern decline that flattened out into another shallow curve.

The second: a ragged zigzag, four tight switchbacks, the fifth point strangely blunt, like it was broken…

The third: a smooth wave, interrupted by a sudden spur that swung a thin, long finger out to the north and back.