The Host (7 page)

Incomprehensible, seemingly meaningless. But I knew this was important to Melanie. From the very beginning I'd known that. She protected this secret more fiercely than any other, next to the boy, her brother. I'd had no idea of his existence before the dream last night. I wondered what it was that had broken her. Maybe as she grew louder in my head, she would lose more of her secrets to me.

Maybe she would slip up, and I would see what these strange lines meant. I knew they meant something. That they led somewhere.

And at that moment, with the echo of the Seeker's laugh still hanging in the air, I suddenly realized why they were so important.

They led back to Jared, of course. Back to both of them, Jared and Jamie. Where else? What other location could possibly hold any meaning for her? Only now I saw that it was not
back,
because none of them had ever followed these lines before. Lines that had been as much of a mystery to her as they were to me, until…

The wall was slow to block me. She was distracted, paying more attention to the Seeker than I was. She fluttered in my head at a sound behind me, and that was the first I was aware of the Seeker's approach.

The Seeker sighed. “I expected more of you. Your track record seemed so promising.”

“It's a pity you weren't free for the assignment yourself. I'm sure if you'd had to deal with a resistant host, it would have been child's play.” I didn't turn to look at her. My voice stayed level.

She sniffed. “The early waves were challenging enough even without a resistant host.”

“Yes. I've experienced a few settlings myself.”

The Seeker snorted. “Were the See Weeds very difficult to tame? Did they flee?” I kept my voice calm. “We had no trouble in the South Pole. Of course, the North was another matter. It was badly mishandled. We lost the entire forest.” The sadness of that time echoed behind my words. A thousand sentient beings, closing their eyes forever rather than accept us.

They'd curled their leaves from the suns and starved.

Good for them,
Melanie whispered. There was no venom attached to the thought, only approval as she saluted the tragedy in my memory.

It was such a waste.
I let the agony of the knowledge, the feel of the dying thoughts that had racked us with our sister forest's pain, wash through my head.

It was death either way.

The Seeker spoke, and I tried to concentrate on just one conversation.

“Yes.” Her voice was uncomfortable. “That was poorly executed.”

“You can never be too careful when it comes to doling out power. Some aren't as careful as they should be.”

She didn't answer, and I heard her move a few steps back. Everyone knew that the misstep behind the mass suicide belonged to the Seekers, who, because the See Weeds couldn't
flee,
had underestimated their ability to
escape.
They'd proceeded recklessly, beginning the first settlement before we had adequate numbers in place for a full-scale assimilation. By the time they realized what the See Weeds were capable of, were willing to do, it was too late. The next shipment of hibernating souls was too far away, and before they'd arrived, the northern forest was lost.

I faced the Seeker now, curious to judge the impact of my words. She was impassive, staring at the white nothingness of the bare wall across the room.

“I'm sorry I can't help you further.” I said the words firmly, trying to make the dismissal clear. I was ready to have my house to myself again.
To ourselves,
Melanie inserted spitefully. I sighed.

She was so full of herself now. “You really shouldn't have troubled yourself to come so far.”

“It's the job,” the Seeker said, shrugging. “You're my only assignment. Until I find the rest of them, I may as well stick close to you and hope I get lucky.” CHAPTER 7

Confronted

Yes, Faces Sunward?” I asked, grateful to the raised hand for interrupting my lecture. I did not feel as comfortable behind the lectern as I usually did. My biggest strength, my only real credential–for my host body had had little in the way of a formal education, on the run since her early adolescence–was the personal experience I usually taught from. This was the first world's history I'd presented this semester for which I had no memories to draw upon. I was sure my students were suffering the difference.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but…” The white-haired man paused, struggling to word his question.

“I'm not sure I understand. The Fire-Tasters actually…
ingest
the smoke from burning the Walking Flowers? Like food?” He tried to suppress the horror in his tone. It was not a soul's place to judge another soul. But I was not surprised, given his background on the Planet of the Flowers, at his strong reaction to the fate of a similar life-form on another world.

It was always amazing to me how some souls buried themselves in the affairs of whichever world they inhabited and ignored the rest of the universe. But, to be fair, perhaps Faces Sunward had been in hibernation when Fire World became notorious.

“Yes, they receive essential nutrients from this smoke. And therein lies the fundamental dilemma and the controversy of Fire World–and the reason the planet has not been closed, though there has certainly been adequate time to populate it fully. There is also a high relocation percentage.

“When Fire World was discovered, it was at first thought that the dominant species, the Fire-Tasters, were the only intelligent life-forms present. The Fire-Tasters did not consider the Walking Flowers to be their equals–a cultural prejudice–so it was a while, even after the first wave of settling, before the souls realized they were murdering intelligent creatures. Since then, Fire World scientists have focused their efforts on finding a replacement for the dietary needs of the Fire-Tasters. Spiders are being transported there to help, but the planets are hundreds of light-years apart. When this obstacle is overcome, as it will be soon, I'm sure, there is hope that the Walking Flowers might also be assimilated. In the meantime, much of the brutality has been removed from the equation. The, ah, burning-alive portion, of course, and other aspects as well.”

“How can they…” Faces Sunward trailed off, unable to finish.

Another voice completed Faces Sunward's thought. “It seems like a very cruel ecosystem. Why was the planet not abandoned?”

“That has been debated, naturally, Robert. But we do not abandon planets lightly. There are many souls for whom Fire World is home. They will not be uprooted against their will.” I looked away, back at my notes, in an attempt to end the side discussion.

“But it's barbaric!”

Robert was physically younger than most of the other students–closer to my age, in fact, than any other. And truly a child in a more important way. Earth was his first world–the Mother in this case had actually been an Earth-dweller, too, before she'd given herself–and he didn't seem to have as much perspective as older, better-traveled souls. I wondered what it would be like to be born into the overwhelming sensation and emotion of these hosts with no prior experience for balance. It would be difficult to find objectivity. I tried to remember that and be especially patient as I answered him.

“Every world is a unique experience. Unless one has lived on that world, it's impossible to truly understand the –”

“But you never lived on Fire World,” he interrupted me. “You must have felt the same way.…

Unless you had some other reason for skipping that planet? You've been almost everywhere else.”

“Choosing a planet is a very personal and private decision, Robert, as you may someday experience.” My tone closed the subject absolutely.

Why not tell them? You
do
think it's barbaric–and cruel and wrong. Which is pretty ironic if you
ask me–not that you ever do. What's the problem? Are you ashamed that you agree with
Robert? Because he's more human than the others?

Melanie, having found her voice, was becoming downright unbearable. How was I supposed to concentrate on my work with her opinions sounding off in my head all the time?

In the seat behind Robert, a dark shadow moved.

The Seeker, clad in her usual black, leaned forward, intent for the first time on the subject of discussion.

I resisted the urge to scowl at her. I didn't want Robert, already looking embarrassed, to mistake the expression as meant for him. Melanie grumbled.
She
wished I wouldn't resist.

Having the Seeker stalk our every footstep had been educational for Melanie; she used to think she couldn't hate anything or anyone more than she hated me.

“Our time is almost up,” I announced with relief. “I'm pleased to inform you that we will have a guest speaker next Tuesday who will be able to make up for my ignorance on this topic. Flame Tender, a recent addition to our planet, will be here to give us a more personal account of the settling of Fire World. I know that you will give him all the courtesy you accord me, and be respectful of the very young age of his host. Thank you for your time.” The class filed out slowly, many of the students taking a minute to chat with one another as they gathered their things. What Kathy had said about friendships ran through my head, but I felt no desire to join any of them. They were strangers.

Was that the way I felt? Or the way Melanie felt? It was hard to tell. Maybe I was naturally antisocial. My personal history supported that theory, I supposed. I'd never formed an attachment strong enough to keep me on any planet for more than one life.

I noticed Robert and Faces Sunward lingering at the classroom door, locked in a discussion that seemed intense. I could guess the subject.

“Fire World stories ruffle feathers.”

I started slightly.

The Seeker was standing at my elbow. The woman usually announced her approach with the quick tap of her hard shoes. I looked down now to see that she was wearing sneakers for once–black, of course. She was even tinier without the extra inches.

“It's not my favorite subject,” I said in a bland voice. “I prefer to have firsthand experience to share.”

“Strong reactions from the class.”

“Yes.”

She looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for more. I gathered my notes and turned to put them in my bag.

“You seemed to react as well.”

I placed my papers in the bag carefully, not turning.

“I wondered why you didn't answer the question.”

There was a pause while she waited for me to respond. I didn't.

“So… why didn't you answer the question?”

I turned around, not concealing the impatience on my face. “Because it wasn't pertinent to the lesson, because Robert needs to learn some manners, and because it's no one else's business.” I swung my bag to my shoulder and headed for the door. She stayed right beside me, rushing to keep up with my longer legs. We walked down the hallway in silence. It wasn't until we were outside, where the afternoon sun lit the dust motes in the salty air, that she spoke again.

“Do you think you'll ever settle, Wanderer? On this planet, maybe? You seem to have an affinity for their… feelings.”

I bridled at the implied insult in her tone. I wasn't even sure how she meant to insult me, but it was clear that she did. Melanie stirred resentfully.

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Tell me something, Wanderer. Do you pity them?”

“Who?” I asked blankly. “The Walking Flowers?”

“No, the humans.”

I stopped walking, and she skidded to a halt beside me. We were only a few blocks from my apartment, and I'd been hurrying in hopes of getting away from her, though likely as not, she'd invite herself in. But her question caught me off guard.

“The humans?”

“Yes. Do you pity them?”

“Don't you?”

“No. They were quite the brutal race. They were lucky to survive each other as long as they did.”

“Not every one of them was bad.”

“It was a predilection of their genetics. Brutality was part of their species. But
you
pity them, it seems.”

“It's a lot to lose, don't you think?” I gestured around us. We stood in a parklike space between two ivy-covered dormitories. The deep green of the ivy was pleasing to the eye, especially in contrast to the faded red of the old bricks. The air was golden and soft, and the smell of the ocean gave a briny edge to the honey sweet fragrance of the flowers in the bushes. The breeze caressed the bare skin of my arms. “In your other lives, you can't have felt anything so vivid.

Wouldn't you pity anyone who had this taken from them?” Her expression stayed flat, unmoved.

I made an attempt to draw her in, to make her consider another viewpoint. “Which other worlds have you lived on?”

She hesitated, then squared her shoulders. “None. I've only lived on Earth.” That surprised me. She was as much a child as Robert. “Only one planet? And you chose to be a Seeker in your first life?”

She nodded once, her chin set.

“Well. Well, that's your business.” I started walking again. Maybe if I respected her privacy, she would return the favor.

“I spoke to your Comforter.”

And maybe not,
Melanie thought sourly.

“What?” I gasped.

“I gather you've been having more trouble than just accessing the information I need. Have you considered trying another, more pliable host? She suggested that, did she not?”

“Kathy wouldn't tell
you
anything!”

The Seeker's face was smug. “She didn't have to answer. I'm very good at reading human expressions. I could tell when my questions struck a nerve.”

“How dare you? The relationship between a soul and her Comforter –”

“Is sacrosanct, yes; I know the theory. But the acceptable means of investigation don't seem to be working with your case. I have to get creative.”

“You think I'm keeping something from you?” I demanded, too angry to control the disgust in my voice. “You think I confided that to my Comforter?”

My anger didn't faze her. Perhaps, given her strange personality, she was used to such reactions.

“No. I think you're telling me what you know.… But I don't think you're looking as hard as you could. I've seen it before. You're growing sympathetic to your host. You're letting her memories unconsciously direct your own desires. It's probably too late at this point. I think you'd be more comfortable moving on, and maybe someone else will have better luck with her.”