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Êàê ñäåëàòü ðàçãîâîð ïîëåçíûì è ïðèÿòíûì
Êàê ñäåëàòü îáúåìíóþ çâåçäó ñâîèìè ðóêàìè
Êàê ñäåëàòü òî, ÷òî äåëàòü íå õî÷åòñÿ?
Êàê ñäåëàòü ïîãðåìóøêó
Êàê ñäåëàòü òàê ÷òîáû æåíùèíû ñàìè çíàêîìèëèñü ñ âàìè
Êàê ñäåëàòü èäåþ êîììåð÷åñêîé
Êàê ñäåëàòü õîðîøóþ ðàñòÿæêó íîã?
Êàê ñäåëàòü íàø ðàçóì çäîðîâûì?
Êàê ñäåëàòü, ÷òîáû ëþäè îáìàíûâàëè ìåíüøå
Âîïðîñ 4. Êàê ñäåëàòü òàê, ÷òîáû âàñ óâàæàëè è öåíèëè?
Êàê ñäåëàòü ëó÷øå ñåáå è äðóãèì ëþäÿì
Êàê ñäåëàòü ñâèäàíèå èíòåðåñíûì?
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The Host 34 page
“Where do we get them?” “Empty cryotanks are stored outside Healing facilities until they’re needed. With more souls coming in than leaving, there will be a surplus. No one will guard them; no one will notice if some go missing.” “Are you sure? Where did you get this information?” “I saw them in Chicago, piles and piles of them. Even the little facility we went to in Tucson had a small store of them, crated outside the delivery bay.” “If they were crated, then how can you be sure ‑” “Haven’t you noticed our fondness for labels?” “I’m not doubting you,” he said. “I just want to make sure that you’ve thought this through.” I heard the double meaning in his words. “I have.” “Let’s get it done, then.” Doc was already gone‑already with Jeb, as we hadn’t passed him on the way. He must have left right behind me. I wondered how his news was being taken. I hoped they weren’t stupid enough to discuss it in front of the Seeker. Would she shred her human host’s brain if she guessed what I was doing? Would she assume I’d turned traitor entirely? That I would give the humans what they needed with no restrictions? Wasn’t that what I was about to do, though? When I was gone, would Doc bother to keep his word? Yes, he would try. I believed that. I had to believe that. But he couldn’t do it alone. And who would help him? We scrambled up the tight black vent that opened onto the southern face of the rocky hill, about halfway up the low peak. The eastern edge of the horizon was turning gray, with just a hint of pink bleeding into the line between sky and rock. My eyes were locked on my feet as I climbed down. It was necessary; there was no path, and the loose rocks made for treacherous footing. But even if the way had been paved and smooth, I doubted I would have been able to lift my eyes. My shoulders, too, seemed trapped in a slump. Traitor. Not a misfit, not a wanderer. Just a traitor. I was putting my gentle brothers’ and sisters’ lives into the angry and motivated hands of my adopted human family. My humans had every right to hate the souls. This was a war, and I was giving them a weapon. A way to kill with impunity. I considered this as we ran through the desert in the growing light of dawn‑ran because, with the Seekers looking, we shouldn’t be out in the daylight. Focusing on this angle‑viewing my choice not as a sacrifice but rather as arming the humans in exchange for the Seeker’s life‑I knew that it was wrong. And if I was trying to save only the Seeker, this would be the moment when I would change my mind and turn around. She wasn’t worth selling out the others. Even she would agree with that. Or would she? I suddenly wondered. The Seeker didn’t seem to be as… what was the word Jared had used? Altruistic. As altruistic as the rest of us. Maybe she would count her own life dearer than the lives of many. But it was too late to change my mind. I’d already thought far beyond just saving the Seeker. For one thing, this would happen again. The humans would kill any souls they came across unless I gave them another option. More than that, I was going to save Melanie, and that was worth the sacrifice. I was going to save Jared and Jamie, too. Might as well save the repugnant Seeker while I was at it. The souls were wrong to be here. My humans deserved their world. I could not give it back to them, but I could give them this. If only I could be sure that they would not be cruel. I would just have to trust Doc, and hope. And maybe wring the promise from a few more of my friends, just in case. I wondered how many human lives I would save. How many souls’ lives I might save. The only one I couldn’t save now was myself. I sighed heavily. Even over the sound of our exerted breathing, Jared heard that. In my peripheral vision, I saw his face turn, felt his eyes boring into me, but I did not look over to meet his gaze. I stared at the ground. We got to the jeep’s hiding place before the sun had climbed over the eastern peaks, though the sky was already light blue. We ducked into the shallow cave just as the first rays painted the desert sand gold. Jared grabbed two bottles of water out of the backseat, tossed one to me, and then lounged against the wall. He gulped down half a bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he spoke. “I could tell you were in a hurry to get out of there, but we need to wait until dark if you’re planning a smash and grab.” I swallowed my mouthful of water. “That’s fine. I’m sure they’ll wait for us now.” His eyes searched my face. “I saw your Seeker,” he told me, watching my reaction. “She’s… energetic.” I nodded. “And vocal.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t seem to enjoy the accommodations we provided.” My gaze dropped to the floor. “Could be worse,” I mumbled. The strangely jealous hurt I’d been feeling leaked, uninvited, into my voice. “That’s true,” he agreed, his voice subdued. “Why are they so kind to her?” I whispered. “She killed Wes.” “Well, that’s your fault.” I stared up at him, surprised to see the slight curve of his mouth; he was teasing me. “Mine?” His small smile wavered. “They didn’t want to feel like monsters. Not again. They’re trying to make up for before, only a little too late‑and with the wrong soul. I didn’t realize that would… hurt your feelings. I would have thought you’d like it better that way.” “I do.” I didn’t want them to hurt anyone. “It’s always better to be kind. I just…” I took a deep breath. “I’m glad I know why.” Their kindess was for me, not for her. My shoulders felt lighter. “It’s not a good feeling‑knowing that you profoundly deserve the title of monster. It’s better to be kind than to feel guilty.” He smiled again and then yawned. That made me yawn. “Long night,” he commented. “And we’ve got another one coming. We should sleep.” I was glad for his suggestion. I knew he had many questions about exactly what this raid meant. I also knew he would have already put several things together. And I didn’t want to discuss any of it. I stretched out on the smooth patch of sand beside the jeep. To my shock, Jared came to lie beside me, right beside me. He curled around the curve of my back. “Here,” he said, and he reached around to slide his fingers under my face. He pulled my head up from the ground and then moved his arm under it, making a pillow for me. He let his other arm drape over my waist. It took a few seconds before I was able to respond. “Thanks.” He yawned. I felt his breath warm the back of my neck. “Get some rest, Wanda.” Holding me in what could only be considered an embrace, Jared fell asleep quickly, as he had always been able to do. I tried to relax with his arm warm around me, but it took a long time. This embrace made me wonder how much he had already guessed. My weary thoughts tangled and twisted. Jared was right‑it had been a very long night. Though not half long enough. The rest of my days and nights were going to fly by as if they were only minutes. The next thing I knew, Jared was shaking me awake. The light in the little cavern was dim and orangey. Sunset. Jared pulled me to my feet and handed me a hiker’s meal bar‑this was the kind of rations they kept with the jeep. We ate, and drank the rest of our water, in silence. Jared’s face was serious and focused. “Still in a hurry?” he asked as we climbed into the jeep. No. I wanted the time to stretch out forever. “Yes.” What was the point in putting it off? The Seeker and her body would die if we waited too long, and I would still have to make the same choice. “We’ll hit Phoenix, then. It’s logical that they wouldn’t notice this kind of raid. It doesn’t make sense for humans to take your cold‑storage tanks. What possible use could we have for them?” The question didn’t sound at all rhetorical, and I could feel him looking at me again. But I stared ahead at the rocks and said nothing. It had been dark for a while by the time we traded vehicles and got to the freeway. Jared waited a few careful minutes with the inconspicuous sedan’s lights off. I counted ten cars passing by. Then there was a long darkness between the headlights, and Jared pulled onto the road. The trip to Phoenix was very short, though Jared kept the speed scrupulously below the limit. Time was speeding up, as if the Earth were spinning faster. We settled into the steady‑moving traffic, flowing with it along the highway that circled the flat, sprawling city. I saw the hospital from the road. We followed another car up the exit ramp, moving evenly, without hurry. Jared turned into the main parking lot. “Where now?” he asked, tense. “See if this road continues around the back. The tanks will be by a loading area.” Jared drove slowly. There were many souls here, going in and out of the facility, some of them in scrubs. Healers. No one paid us any particular attention. The road hugged the sidewalk, then curved around the north side of the building complex. “Look. Shipping trucks. Head that way.” We passed between a wing of low buildings and a parking garage. Several trucks, delivering medical supplies no doubt, were backed into receiving ports. I scanned the crates on the dock, all labeled. “Keep going… though we might want to grab some of those on the way back. See‑Heal… Cool… Still? I wonder what that one is.” I liked that these supplies were labeled and left unguarded. My family wouldn’t go without the things they needed when I was gone. When I was gone; it seemed that phrase was tacked on to all of my thoughts now. We rounded the back of another building. Jared drove a little faster and kept his eyes forward‑there were people here, four of them, unloading a truck onto a dock. It was the exactness of their movements that caught my attention. They didn’t handle the smallish boxes roughly; quite the contrary, they placed them with infinite care onto the waist‑high lip of concrete. I didn’t really need the label for confirmation, but just then, one of the unloaders turned his box so the black letters faced me directly. “This is the place we want. They’re unloading occupied tanks right now. The empty ones won’t be far… Ah! There, on the other side. That shed is half full of them. I’ll bet the closed sheds are all the way full.” Jared kept driving at the same careful speed, turning the corner to the side of the building. He snorted quietly. “What?” I asked. “Figures. See?” He jerked his chin toward the sign on the building. This was the maternity wing. “Ah,” I said. “Well, you’ll always know where to look, won’t you?” His eyes flashed to my face when I said that, and then back to the road. “We’ll have to wait for a bit. Looked like they were almost finished.” Jared circled the hospital again, then parked at the back of the biggest lot, away from the lights. He killed the engine and slumped against the seat. He reached over and took my hand. I knew that he was about to ask, and I tried to prepare myself. “Wanda?” “Yes?” “You’re going to save the Seeker, aren’t you?” “Yes, I am.” “Because it’s the right thing to do?” he guessed. “That’s one reason.” He was silent for a moment. “You know how to get the soul out without hurting the body?” My heart thumped hard once, and I had to swallow before I could answer. “Yes. I’ve done it before. In an emergency. Not here.” “Where?” he asked. “What was the emergency?” It was a story I’d never told them before, for obvious reasons. It was one of my best. Lots of action. Jamie would have loved it. I sighed and began in a low voice. “On the Mists Planet. I was with my friend Harness Light and a guide. I don’t remember the guide’s name. They called me Lives in the Stars there. I already had a bit of a reputation.” Jared chuckled. “We were making a pilgrimage across the fourth great ice field to see one of the more celebrated crystal cities. It was supposed to be a safe route‑that’s why there were only three of us. “Claw beasts like to dig pits and bury themselves in the snow. Camouflage, you know. A trap. “One moment, there was nothing but the flat, endless snow. Then, the next moment, it seemed like the entire field of white was exploding into the sky. “An average adult Bear has about the mass of a buffalo. A full‑grown claw beast is closer to the mass of a blue whale. This one was bigger than most. “I couldn’t see the guide. The claw beast had sprung up between us, facing where Harness Light and I stood. Bears are faster than claw beasts, but this one had the advantage of the ambush. Its huge stone‑like pincers swooped down and sheared Harness Light in half before I’d really processed what was happening.” A car drove slowly down the side of the parking lot. We sat silent until it had passed. “I hesitated. I should have started running, but… my friend was dying there on the ice. Because of that hesitation, I would have died, too, if the claw beast hadn’t been distracted. I found out later that our guide‑I wish I could remember his name!‑had attacked the claw beast’s tail, hoping to give us a chance to run. The claw beast’s attack had stirred up enough snow that it was like a blizzard. The lack of visibility would help us escape. He didn’t know it was already too late for Harness Light to run. “The claw beast turned on the guide, and his second left leg kicked us, sending me flying. Harness Light’s upper body landed beside me. His blood melted the snow.” I paused to shudder. “My next action made no sense, because I had no body for Harness Light. We were midway between cities, much too far to run to either. It was probably cruel, too, to take him out with no painkillers. But I couldn’t stand to let him die inside the broken half of his Bear host. “I used the back of my hand‑the ice‑cutting side. It was too wide a blade… It caused a lot of damage. I could only hope that Harness Light was far gone enough that he wouldn’t feel the extra pain. “Using my soft inside fingers, I coaxed Harness Light from the Bear’s brain. “He was still alive. I barely paused to ascertain this. I shoved him into the egg pocket in the center of my body, between the two hottest hearts. This would keep him from dying of cold, but he would only last a few short minutes without a body. And where would I find a host body in this empty waste? “I thought of trying to share my host, but I doubted I could stay conscious through the procedure to insert him into my own head. And then, having no healing medicine, I would die quickly. With all those hearts, Bears bled very fast. “The claw beast roared, and I felt the ground shake as its huge paws thudded down. I didn’t know where our guide was, or if he lived. I didn’t know how long it would take the claw beast to find us half‑buried in the snow. I was right beside the severed Bear. The bright blood would draw the monster’s eyes. “And then I got this crazy idea.” I paused to laugh quietly to myself. “I didn’t have a Bear host for Harness Light. I couldn’t use my body. The guide was dead or had fled. But there was one other body on the ice field. “It was insanity, but all I could think of was Harness Light. We weren’t even close friends, but I knew he was slowly dying, right between my hearts. I couldn’t endure that. “I heard the angry claw beast roaring, and I ran toward the sound. Soon I could see its thick white fur. I ran straight to its third left leg and launched myself as high up the leg as I could. I was a good jumper. I used all six of my hands, the knife sides, to yank myself up the side of the beast. It roared and spun, but that didn’t help. Picture a dog chasing its tail. Claw beasts have very small brains‑a limited intelligence. “I made it to the beast’s back and ran up the double spine, digging in with my knives so that it couldn’t shake me off. “It only took seconds to get up to the beast’s head. But that was where the greatest difficulty waited. My ice cutters were only… about as long as your forearm, maybe. The claw beast’s hide was twice as thick. I swung my arm down as hard as I could, slashing through the first layer of fur and membrane. The claw beast screamed and reared back on its hindmost legs. I almost fell. “I lodged four of my hands into its hide‑it screamed and thrashed. With the other two, I took turns cutting at the gash I’d made. The skin was so thick and tough, I didn’t know if I would be able to saw through. “The claw beast went berserk. It shook so hard that it was all I could do to hold on for a moment. But time was running out for Harness Light. I shoved my hands into the hole and tried to rip it open. “Then the claw beast threw itself backward onto the ice. “If we hadn’t been over its lair, the pit it had dug to hide in, that would have crushed me. As it was, though it knocked me silly, the fall actually helped. My knives were already in the beast’s neck. When I hit the ground, the weight of the beast drove my cutters deep through its skin. Deeper than I needed. “We were both stunned; I was half smothered. I knew I had to do something right away, but I couldn’t remember what it was. The beast started to roll, dazed. The fresh air cleared my head, and I remembered Harness Light. “Protecting him from the cold as well as I could in the soft side of my hands, I moved him from my egg pocket into the claw beast’s neck. “The beast got to its feet and bucked again. This time I flew off. I’d let go of my hold to insert Harness Light, you see. The claw beast was infuriated. The wound on its head wasn’t nearly enough to kill it‑just annoy it. “The snow had settled enough that I was in plain sight, especially as I was painted with the beast’s blood. It’s a very bright color, a color you don’t have here. It raised its pincers, and they swung toward me. I thought that was it, and I was comforted a little that at least I would die trying. “And then the pincers hit the snow beside me. I couldn’t believe it had missed! I stared up at the huge, hideous face, and I almost had to… well, not laugh. Bears don’t laugh. But that was the feeling. Because that ugly face was torn with confusion and surprise and chagrin. No claw beast had ever worn such an expression before. “It had taken Harness Light a few minutes to bind himself to the claw beast‑it was such a big area, he really had to extend himself. But then he was in control. He was confused and slow‑he didn’t have much of a brain to work with, but it was enough that he knew I was his friend. “I had to ride him to the crystal city‑to hold the wound closed on his neck until we could reach a Healer. That caused quite a stir. For a while they called me Rides the Beast. I didn’t like it. I made them go back to my other name.” I’d been staring ahead, toward the lights of the hospital and the figures of the souls crossing in front of those lights, as I told the story. Now I looked at Jared for the first time. He was gaping at me, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. It really was one of my best stories. I’d have to get Mel to promise that she’d tell it to Jamie when I was… “They’re probably finished unloading, don’t you think?” I said quickly. “Let’s finish this and get back home.” He stared at me for one more moment, and then shook his head slowly. “Yes, let’s finish this, Wanderer, Lives in the Stars, Rides the Beast. Stealing a few unguarded crates won’t present much of a challenge for you, will it?”
CHAPTER 52. Separated
We brought our plunder in through the south vent, though this meant that the jeep would have to be moved before dawn. My main concern with using the bigger entrance was that the Seeker would hear the commotion our arrival was sure to cause. I wasn’t sure if she had any idea of what I was going to do, and I didn’t want to give her any reason to kill her host and herself. The story Jeb had told me about one of their captives‑the man who had simply collapsed, leaving no external evidence on the outside of the havoc wreaked inside his skull‑haunted my thoughts. The hospital was not empty. As I squeezed myself through the last tight bubble of space out into the main room, I found Doc preparing for the operation. His desk was laid out; on it, a propane lantern‑the brightest illumination we had available‑waited to be lit. The scalpels glinted in the duller blue light of the solar lamp. I had known that Doc would agree to my terms, but seeing him thus occupied sent a wave of nervous nausea through me. Or maybe it was just the memory of that other day that sickened me, the day I’d caught him with blood on his hands. “You’re back,” he said with relief. I realized that he’d been worried about us, just as everyone worried when someone left the safety of the caves. “We brought you a gift,” Jared said as he pushed himself free behind me. He straightened up and reached back for a box. With a flourish, he held it up, displaying the label on the side. “Heal!” Doc crowed. “How much did you get?” “Two cases. And we’ve found a much better way to renew our stores than to have Wanda stabbing herself.” Doc did not laugh at Jared’s joke. Instead he turned to stare at me piercingly. We both must have been thinking the same thing: Convenient, since Wanda won’t be around. “Did you get the cryotanks?” he asked, more subdued. Jared noticed the look and the tension. He glanced at me, his expression impossible to read. “Yes,” I answered. “Ten of them. It was all the car could hold.” While I spoke, Jared yanked on the rope behind him. With a clatter of loose rock, the second box of Heal, followed by the tanks, tumbled onto the floor behind him. The tanks clanked like metal, though they were built of no element that existed on this planet. I’d told him it was fine to treat the empty cryotanks roughly; they were built to withstand much worse abuse than being tugged through a stone channel. They glinted on the floor now, looking shiny and pristine. Doc picked one up, freeing it from the rope, and turned it around in his hands. “Ten?” The number seemed to surprise him. Did he think it too many? Or not enough? “Are they difficult to use?” “No. Extremely easy. I’ll show you how.” Doc nodded, his eyes examining the alien construction. I could feel Jared watching me, but I kept my eyes on Doc. “What did Jeb, Brandt, and Aaron say?” I asked. Doc looked up, locked his eyes on mine. “They’re… in agreement with your terms.” I nodded, not convinced. “I won’t show you unless I believe that.” “That’s fair.” Jared glared at us, confused and frustrated. “What did you tell him?” Doc asked me, being cautious. “Just that I was going to save the Seeker.” I turned to look in Jared’s general direction without meeting his gaze. “Doc has promised me that if I show him how to perform the separation, you will give the released souls safe conduct to another life on another planet. No killing.” Jared nodded thoughtfully, his eyes flickering back to Doc. “I can agree to those terms. And I can make sure the others follow through. I assume you have a plan to get them off‑planet?” “It will be no more dangerous than what we did tonight. Just the opposite‑adding to the stack rather than taking from it.” “Okay.” “Did you… have a time schedule in mind?” Doc asked. He tried to sound nonchalant, but I could hear the eagerness behind his voice. He just wanted the answer that had eluded him for so long, I tried to tell myself. It wasn’t that he was in a hurry to kill me. “I have to take the jeep back‑can you wait? I’d like to watch this.” “Sure, Jared,” Doc agreed. “Won’t take me long,” Jared promised as he shoved himself back into the vent. That I was sure of. It wouldn’t take enough time at all. Doc and I did not speak until the sound of Jared’s scrambling exit had faded. “You didn’t talk about… Melanie?” he asked softly. I shook my head. “I think he sees where this is going. He must guess my plan.” “But not all of it. He won’t allow ‑” “He won’t get a say,” I interrupted severely. “All or nothing, Doc.” Doc sighed. After a moment of silence, he stretched and glanced toward the main exit. “I’m going to go talk to Jeb, get things ready.” He reached for a bottle on the table. The chloroform. I was sure the souls had something better to use. I would have to try to find it for Doc, before I was gone. “Who knows about this?” “Still just Jeb, Aaron, and Brandt. They all want to watch.” This didn’t surprise me; Aaron and Brandt would be suspicious. “Don’t tell anyone else. Not tonight.” Doc nodded, then he disappeared into the black corridor. I went to sit against the wall, as far from the prepared cot as I could get. I’d have my turn on top of it all too soon. Trying to think of something besides that grim fact, I realized that I hadn’t heard from Melanie since… When was the last time she’d spoken to me? When I’d made the deal with Doc? I was belatedly surprised that the sleeping arrangements by the jeep today had not elicited a reaction from her. Mel? No answer. It wasn’t like before, so I didn’t panic. I could definitely feel her there in my head, but she was… ignoring me? What was she doing? Mel? What’s going on? No answer. Are you mad at me? I’m sorry about before, by the jeep. I didn’t do anything, you know, so it’s not really fair ‑ She interrupted me, exasperated. Oh, stop. I’m not mad at you. Leave me alone. Why won’t you talk to me? No answer. I pushed a little harder, hoping to pick up the direction of her thoughts. She tried to keep me out, to put the wall in place, but it was too weak from disuse. I saw her plan. I tried to keep my mental tone even. Have you lost your mind? In a manner of speaking, she teased halfheartedly. You think that if you can make yourself disappear, that will stop me? What else can I do to stop you? If you’ve got a better idea, please share. I don’t get it, Melanie. Don’t you want them back? Don’t you want to be with Jared again? With Jamie? She writhed, fighting the obviousness of the answer. Yes, but… I can’t… She took a moment to steady herself. I find myself unable to be the death of you, Wanda. I can’t stand it. I saw the depth of her pain, and tears formed in my eyes. Love you too, Mel. But there’s not room for the both of us here. In this body, in this cave, in their lives… I disagree. Look, just stop trying to annihilate yourself, okay? Because if I think you can do it, I’ll make Doc pull me out today. Or I’ll tell Jared. Just imagine what he would do. I imagined it for her, smiling a little through my tears. Remember? He said no guarantees about what he would or wouldn’t do to keep you here. I thought of those burning kisses in the hall… thought of other kisses and other nights in her memory. My face warmed as I blushed. You fight dirty. You bet I do. I’m not giving up. You’ve been warned. No more silent treatment. We thought of other things then, things that didn’t hurt. Like where we would send the Seeker. Mel was all for the Mists Planet after my story tonight, but I thought the Planet of the Flowers would be more fitting. There wasn’t a mellower planet in the universe. The Seeker needed a nice long lifetime eating sunshine. We thought of my memories, the pretty ones. The ice castles and the night music and the colored suns. They were like fairytales to her. And she told me fairytales, too. Glass slippers, poisoned apples, mermaids who wanted to have souls… Of course, we didn’t have time to tell many stories. They all returned together. Jared had come back through the main entrance. It had taken so very little time‑perhaps he’d just driven the jeep around to the north side and hidden it under the overhang there. In a hurry. I heard their voices coming, subdued, serious, low, and knew from their tone that the Seeker was with them. Knew that the time had come for the first stage of my death. No. Pay attention. You’re going to have to help them do this when I’m ‑ No! But she wasn’t protesting my instruction, just the conclusion of my thought. Date: 2015-12-13; view: 458; Íàðóøåíèå àâòîðñêèõ ïðàâ |