The Host 35 page

Jared was the one who carried the Seeker into the room. He came first, the others behind. Aaron and Brandt both had the guns ready‑in case she was only feigning unconsciousness, perhaps, and about to jump up and attack them with her tiny hands. Jeb and Doc came last, and I knew Jeb’s canny eyes would be on my face. How much had he figured out already with his crazy, insightful shrewdness?

I kept myself focused on the task at hand.

Jared laid the Seeker’s inert form on the cot with exceptional gentleness. This might have bothered me before, but now it touched me. I understood that he did this for me, wishing that he could have treated me this way in the beginning.

“Doc, where’s the No Pain?”

“I’ll get it for you,” he murmured.

I stared at the Seeker’s face while I waited, wondering what it would look like when her host was free. Would anything be left? Would the host be empty or would the rightful owner reassert herself? Would the face be less repugnant to me when another awareness looked out of those eyes?

“Here you go.” Doc put the canister in my hand.

“Thanks.”

I pulled out one thin tissue square and handed the container back to him.

I found myself reluctant to touch the Seeker, but I made my hands move swiftly and purposefully as I pulled her chin down and put the No Pain on her tongue. Her face was very small‑it made my hands feel big. Her tiny size always threw me off. It seemed so inappropriate.

I closed her mouth again. It was moist‑the medicine would dissolve quickly.

“Jared, could you please roll her onto her stomach?” I asked.

He did as I asked‑again, gently. Just then, the propane lantern flared to life. The cave was suddenly bright, almost like daylight. I glanced up instinctively and saw that Doc had covered the big holes in the roof with tarps to keep our light from escaping. He’d done a lot of preparation in our absence.

It was very quiet. I could hear the Seeker breathing evenly in and out. I could hear the faster, tenser breathing of the men in the room with me. Someone shifted from one foot to the other, and sand ground against rock under his heel. Their stares had a physical weight on my skin.

I swallowed, hoping I could keep my voice normal. “Doc, I need Heal, Clean, Seal, and Smooth.”

“Right here.”

I brushed the Seeker’s coarse black hair out of the way, exposing the little pink line at the base of her skull. I stared at her olive tan skin and hesitated.

“Would you cut, Doc? I don’t… I don’t want to.”

“No problem, Wanda.”

I saw only his hands as he came to stand across from me. He set a little row of white cylinders on the cot next to the Seeker’s shoulder. The scalpel winked in the bright light, flashing across my face.

“Hold her hair out of the way.”

I used both hands to clear her neck.

“Wish I could scrub up,” Doc muttered to himself, obviously feeling underprepared.

“It’s not really necessary. We have Clean.”

“I know.” He sighed. What he really wanted was the routine, the mental cleansing that the old habits had given him.

“How much room do you need?” he asked, hesitating with the point of the blade an inch from her skin.

I could feel the heat of the other bodies behind me, squeezing in to get a better view. They were careful not to touch either of us.

“Just the length of the scar. That will be enough.”

This didn’t seem like enough to him. “You sure?”

“Yes. Oh, wait!”

Doc pulled back.

I realized I was doing this all backward. I was no Healer. I wasn’t cut out for this. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t seem to look away from the Seeker’s body.

“Jared, could you get one of those tanks for me?”

“Of course.”

I heard him walk the few steps away, heard the dull, metallic clunk of the tank he chose knocking against the others.

“What now?”

“There’s a circle on top of the lid. Press it in.”

I heard the low hum of the cryotank as it powered on. The men muttered and shuffled their feet, moving away from it.

“Okay, on the side there should be a switch… more like a dial, actually. Can you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Spin it all the way down.”

“Okay.”

“What color is the light on top of the tank?”

“It’s… it’s just turning from purple to… bright blue. Light blue now.”

I took a deep breath. At least the tanks were functional.

“Great. Pop the lid and wait for me.”

“How?”

“Latch under the lip.”

“Got it.” I heard the click of the latch, and then the whir of the mechanism. “It’s cold! ”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“How does it work? What’s the power source?”

I sighed. “I knew the answers when I was a Spider. I don’t understand it now. Doc, you can go ahead. I’m ready.”

“Here we go,” Doc whispered as he slid the blade of the scalpel deftly, almost gracefully, through the skin. Blood coursed down the side of her neck, pooling on the towel Doc had placed underneath.

“A tiny bit deeper. Just under the edge ‑”

“Yes, I see.” Doc was breathing fast, excited.

Silver glinted out from the red.

“That’s good. Now you hold the hair.”

Doc switched places with me in a smooth, swift movement. He was good at his Calling. He would have made quite a Healer.

I didn’t try to hide what I was doing from him. The movements were too minute for him to have any chance of seeing. He would not be able to do this until I explained.

I slid one fingertip carefully along the back ridge of the tiny silver creature until my finger was almost entirely inserted into the hot opening at the base of the host body’s neck. I traced my way to the anterior antennae, feeling the taut lines of the bound attachments stretched tight like harp strings into the deeper recesses of her head.

I twisted my finger around the underside of the soul’s body, caressing down from the first segment along the other line of attachments, as stiff and profuse as the bristles of a brush.

I felt carefully at the juncture of these tight strings, at the tiny joints, no bigger than pinheads. I stroked my way about a third of the way down. I could have counted, but that would have taken a very long time. It would be the two hundred seventeenth connection, but there was another way to find it. There it was, the little ridge that made this joint just a bit bigger‑a seed pearl rather than a pinhead. It was smooth under my fingertip.

I pressed against it with gentle pressure, tenderly massaging. Kindness was always the way of the souls. Never violence.

“Relax,” I breathed.

And, though the soul could not hear me, it obeyed. The harp strings loosened, went slack. I could feel the slither as they retracted, feel the slight swelling of the body as it absorbed them. The process took no more than a few beats of my heart. I held my breath until I felt the soul undulate under my touch. Wriggling free.

I let it twist itself a little farther out, and then I curled my fingers gently around the tiny, fragile body. I lifted it, silver and gleaming, wet with blood that was quickly shed from the smooth casing, and cradled it in my hand.

It was beautiful. The soul whose name I’d never known billowed like a silver wave in my hand… a lovely feathered ribbon.

I couldn’t hate the Seeker in this form. An almost maternal love swept through me.

“Sleep well, little one,” I whispered.

I turned toward the faint hum of the cryotank, just to my left. Jared held it low and angled, so it was a simple matter for me to ease the soul into the shockingly cold air that gusted from the opening. I let it slide into the small space and then carefully relatched the lid.

I took the cryotank from Jared, easing it rather than tugging it, turning it with care until it was vertical, and then I hugged it to my chest. The outside of the tank was the same temperature as the warm room. I cradled it to my body, protective as any mother.

I looked back at the stranger on the table. Doc was already dust‑ing Smooth over the sealed wound. We made a good team: one attending to the soul, the other to the body. Everyone was taken care of.

Doc looked up at me, his eyes full of exhilaration and wonder. “Amazing,” he murmured. “That was incredible.”

“Good job,” I whispered back.

“When do you think she’ll wake up?” Doc asked.

“That depends on how much chloroform she inhaled.”

“Not much.”

“And if she’s still there. We’ll have to wait and see.”

Before I could ask, Jared lifted the nameless woman tenderly from the cot, rolled her face‑up, and laid her on another, cleaner resting place. This tenderness did not move me. This tenderness was for the human, for Melanie…

Doc went with him, checking her pulse, peeking under her lids. He shone a flashlight into her unconscious eyes and watched the pupils constrict. No light reflected back to blind him. He and Jared exchanged a long glance.

“She really did it,” Jared said, his voice low.

“Yes,” Doc agreed.

I didn’t hear Jeb sidle up next to me.

“Pretty slick, kid,” he murmured.

I shrugged.

“Feeling a smidge conflicted?”

I didn’t answer.

“Yeah. Me, too, hon. Me, too.”

Aaron and Brandt were talking behind me, their voices rising with excitement, answering each other’s thoughts before the questions were spoken.

No conflict there.

“Wait till the others hear!”

“Think of the ‑”

“We should go get some ‑”

“Right now, I’m ready ‑”

“Hold up,” Jeb cut Brandt off. “No soul snatching until that cryotank is safely on its way into outer space. Right, Wanda?”

“Right,” I agreed in a firmer voice, hugging the tank tighter to my chest.

Brandt and Aaron exchanged sour glances.

I was going to need more allies. Jared and Jeb and Doc were only three, though certainly the most influential three here. Still, they would need support.

I knew what this meant.

It meant talking to Ian.

Others, too, of course, but Ian would have to be one of them. My heart seemed to slump lower in my chest, to curl limply in on itself. I’d done many things I had not wanted to do since joining the humans, but I couldn’t remember any this sharply and pointedly painful. Even deciding to trade my life for the Seeker’s‑that was a huge, vast hurt, a wide field of ache, but it was almost manageable because it was so tied up in the bigger picture. Telling Ian goodbye was a razor‑sharp piercing; it made the greater vision hard to see. I wished there was some way, any way, to save him from the same pain. There wasn’t.

The only thing worse would be telling Jared goodbye. That one would burn and fester. Because he wouldn’t feel pain. His joy would far outweigh any small regret he might feel over me.

As for Jamie, well, I wasn’t planning on facing that goodbye at all.

“Wanda!” Doc’s voice was sharp.

I hurried to the bed Doc was hovering over. Before I got there, I could see the tiny olive hand fisting and unfisting where it hung over the edge of the cot.

“Ah,” the Seeker’s familiar voice moaned from the human body. “Ah.”

The room went utterly silent. Everyone looked at me, as if I were the expert on humans.

I elbowed Doc, my hands still wrapped around the tank. “Talk to her,” I whispered.

“Um… Hello? Can you hear me… miss? You’re safe now. Do you understand me?”

“Ah,” she groaned. Her eyes fluttered open, focused quickly on Doc’s face. There was no discomfort in her expression‑the No Pain would be making her feel wonderful, of course. Her eyes were onyx black. They darted around the room until she found me, and recognition was quickly followed by a scowl. She looked away, back to Doc.

“Well, it feels good to have my head back,” she said in a loud, clear voice. “Thanks.”

CHAPTER 53. Condemned

The Seeker’s host body was named Lacey; a dainty, soft, feminine name. Lacey. As inappropriate as the size, in my opinion. Like naming a pit bull Fluffy.

Lacey was just as loud as the Seeker‑and still a complainer.

“You’ll have to forgive me for going on and on,” she insisted, allowing us no other options. “I’ve been shouting away in there for years and never getting to speak for myself. I’ve got a lot to say all stored up.”

How lucky for us. I could almost make myself glad that I was leaving.

In answer to my earlier question to myself, no, the face was not less repugnant with a different awareness behind it. Because the awareness was not so very different, in the end.

“That’s why we don’t like you,” she told me that first night, making no change from the present tense or the plural pronoun. “When she realized that you were hearing Melanie just the way she was hearing me, it made her frightened. She thought you might guess. I was her deep, dark secret.” A grating laugh. “She couldn’t make me shut up. That’s why she became a Seeker, because she was hoping to figure out some way to better deal with resistant hosts. And then she requested being assigned to you, so she could watch how you did it. She was jealous of you; isn’t that pathetic? She wanted to be strong like you. It gave us a real kick when we thought Melanie had won. I guess that didn’t happen, though. I guess you did. So why did you come here? Why are you helping the rebels?”

I explained, unwillingly, that Melanie and I were friends. She didn’t like that.

“Why?” she demanded.

“She’s a good person.”

“But why does she like you? ”

Same reason.

“She says, for the same reason.”

Lacey snorted. “Got her brainwashed, huh?”

Wow, she’s worse than the first one.

Yes, I agreed. I can see why the Seeker was so obnoxious. Can you imagine having that in your head all the time?

I wasn’t the only thing Lacey objected to.

“Do you have anywhere better to live than these caves? It’s so dirty here. Isn’t there a house somewhere, maybe? What do you mean we have to share rooms? Chore schedule? I don’t understand. I have to work? I don’t think you understand…”

Jeb had given her the usual tour the next day, trying to explain, through clenched teeth, the way we all lived here. When they’d passed me‑eating in the kitchen with Ian and Jamie‑he threw me a look that clearly asked why I hadn’t let Aaron shoot her while that was still an option.

The tour was more crowded than mine. Everyone wanted to see the miracle for themselves. It didn’t even seem to matter to most of them that she was… difficult. She was welcome. More than welcome. Again, I felt a little of that bitter jealousy. But that was silly. She was human. She represented hope. She belonged here. She would be here long after I was gone.

Lucky you, Mel whispered sarcastically.

Talking to Ian and Jamie about what had happened was not as difficult and painful as I’d imagined.

This was because they were, for different reasons, entirely clueless. Neither grasped that this new knowledge meant I would be leaving.

With Jamie, I understood why. More than anyone else, he had accepted me and Mel as the package deal we were. He was able, with his young, open mind, to grasp the reality of our dual personalities. He treated us like two people rather than one. Mel was so real, so present to him. The same way she was to me. He didn’t miss her, because he had her. He didn’t see the necessity of our separation.

I wasn’t sure why Ian didn’t understand. Was he too caught up in the potential? The changes this would mean for the human society here? They were all boggled by the idea that getting caught‑the end‑was no longer a finality. There was a way to come back. It seemed natural to him that I had acted to save the Seeker; it was consistent with his idea of my personality. Maybe that was as far as he’d considered it.

Or maybe Ian just didn’t have a chance to think it all through, to see the glaring eventuality, before he was distracted. Distracted and enraged.

“I should have killed him years ago,” Ian ranted as we packed what we needed for our raid. My final raid; I tried not to dwell on that. “No, our mother should have drowned him at birth!”

“He’s your brother.”

“I don’t know why you keep saying that. Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

Everyone was furious with Kyle. Jared’s lips were welded into a tight line of rage, and Jeb stroked his gun more than usual.

Jeb had been excited, planning to join us on this landmark raid, his first since I’d come to live here. He was particularly keen to see the shuttle field up close. But now, with Kyle putting us all in danger, he felt he had to stay behind just in case. Not getting his way put Jeb in a foul mood.

“Stuck behind with that creature,” he muttered to himself, rubbing the rifle barrel again‑he wasn’t getting any happier about the new member of his community. “Missin’ all the fun.” He spit on the floor.

We all knew where Kyle was. As soon as he’d grasped how the Seeker‑worm had magically transformed into the Lacey‑human in the night, he’d slipped out the back. I’d been expecting him to lead the party demanding the Seeker’s death (I kept the cryotank always cradled in my arms; I slept lightly, my hand touching its smooth surface), but he was nowhere to be found, and Jeb had quashed the resistance easily in his absence.

Jared was the one to realize the jeep was gone. And Ian had been the one to link the two absences.

“He’s gone after Jodi,” Ian had groaned. “What else?”

Hope and despair. I had given them one, Kyle the other. Would he betray them all before they could even make use of the hope?

Jared and Jeb wanted to put off the raid until we knew if Kyle was successful‑it would take him three days under the best circumstances, if his Jodi still lived in Oregon. If he could find her there.

There was another place, another cave we could evacuate to. A much smaller place, with no water, so we couldn’t hide there long. They’d debated whether they should move everyone now or wait.

But I was in a hurry. I’d seen the way the others eyed the silver tank in my arms. I’d heard the whispers. The longer I kept the Seeker here, the better chance that someone would kill her. Having met Lacey, I’d begun to pity the Seeker. She deserved a mild, pleasant new life with the Flowers.

Ironically enough, Ian was the one who took my side and helped hurry the raid along. He still didn’t see where this would lead.

But I was grateful that he helped me convince Jared there was time to make the raid and get back before a decision was made about Kyle. Grateful also that he was back to playing bodyguard. I knew I could trust Ian with the shiny cryotank more than anyone else. He was the only one I would let hold it when I needed my arms. He was the only one who could see, in the shape of that small container, a life to be protected. He could think of that shape as a friend, something that could be loved. He was the best ally of all. I was so grateful for Ian, and so grateful for the obliviousness that saved him, for the moment, from pain.

We had to be fast, in case Kyle ruined everything. We went to Phoenix again, to one of the many communities that spun out from the hub. There was a big shuttle field to the southeast, in a town called Mesa, with several Healing facilities nearby. That was what I wanted‑I would give them as much as I could before I left. If we took a Healer, then we might be able to preserve the Healer’s memory in the host body. Someone who understood all the medicines and their uses. Someone who knew the best ways to get to unattended stashes. Doc would love that. I could imagine all the questions he’d be dying to ask.

First the shuttle field.

I was sad that Jeb was missing this, but he’d have so many other chances in the future. Though it was dark, a long line of small snub‑nosed shuttles drifted in to land while others took flight in an endless stream.

I drove the old van while the others rode in the back‑Ian in charge of the tank, of course. I circled the field, staying clear of the busy local terminal. It was easy to spot the vast, sleek white vessels that left the planet. They did not depart with the frequency of the smaller ships. All I saw were docked, none preparing to leave immediately.

“Everything’s labeled,” I reported to the others, invisible in the dark back. “Now, this is important. Avoid ships to the Bats, and especially the See Weeds. The See Weeds are just one system over‑it takes only a decade to make the round trip. That’s much too short. The Flowers are the farthest, and the Dolphins, Bears, and Spiders all take at least a century to go one way. Only send tanks to those.”

I drove slowly, close to the crafts.

“This will be easy. They’ve got all kinds of delivery vehicles out here, and we blend in. Oh! I can see a tank truck‑it’s just like the one we saw them unloading at the hospital, Jared. There’s a man looking over the stacks… He’s putting them onto a hover cart. He’s going to load them…” I drove even slower, trying to get a good look. “Yes, onto this ship. Right into the open hatch. I’ll circle back and make my move when he’s in the ship.” I pulled past, examining the scene in my mirrors. There was a lit sign beside the tube that connected the head of the ship to the terminal. I smiled as I read the words backward. This ship was going to the Flowers. It was meant to be.

I made a slow turn as the man disappeared into the hull of the ship.

“Get ready,” I whispered as I pulled into the shadow made by the cylindrical wing of the next enormous ship over. I was only three or four yards from the tank truck. There were a few technicians working near the front of the Flower‑bound vessel and others, farther away, out on the old runway. I would be just another figure in the night.

I cut the engine and hopped down from the driver’s seat, trying to look casual, like I was only doing my job. I went around to the back of the van and opened the door a crack. The tank was right at the edge, the light on top glowing dull red, signifying that it was occupied. I lifted it carefully and closed the door.

I kept up an easy rolling pace as I walked to the open end of the truck. But my breathing sped up. This felt more dangerous than the hospital, and that worried me. Could I expect my humans to risk their lives this way?

I’ll be there. I’ll do it myself, just like you would. On the off chance you get your way, that is.

Thanks, Mel.

I had to force myself not to keep glancing over my shoulder at the open hatch where the man had disappeared. I placed the tank gently atop the closest column in the truck. The addition, one among hundreds, was not noticeable.

“Goodbye,” I whispered. “Better luck with your next host.”

I walked back to the van as slowly as I could stand to.

It was silent in the van as I reversed out from under the big ship. I started back the way we’d come, my heart hammering too fast. In my mirrors, the hatch remained empty. I didn’t see the man emerge before the ship was out of sight.

Ian climbed into the passenger seat. “Doesn’t look too hard.”

“It was very good luck with the timing. You might have to wait longer for an opportunity next time.”

Ian reached over to take my hand. “You’re the good‑luck charm.”

I didn’t answer.

“Do you feel better now that she’s safe?”

“Yes.”

I saw his head turn sharply as he heard the unexpected sound of a lie in my voice. I didn’t meet his gaze.

“Let’s go catch some Healers,” I muttered.

Ian was silent and thoughtful as we drove the short distance to the small Healing facility.

I’d thought the second task would be the challenge, the danger. The plan was that I would‑if the conditions and numbers were right‑try to lead a Healer or two out of the facility under the pretext that I had an injured friend in my van. An old trick, but one that would work only too well on the unsuspecting, trusting Healers.

As it turned out, I didn’t even have to go in. I pulled into the lot just as two middle‑aged Healers, a man and a woman wearing purple scrubs, were getting into a car. Their shift over, they were heading home. The car was around the corner from the entrance. No one else was in sight.

Ian nodded tensely.

I stopped the van right behind their car. They looked up, surprised.

I opened my door and slid out. My voice was thick with tears, my face twisted with remorse, and that helped to fool them.

“My friend is in the back‑I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

They responded with the instant concern I knew they would show. I hurried to open the back doors for them, and they followed right behind. Ian went around the other side. Jared was ready with the chloroform.

I didn’t watch.

It took just seconds. Jared hauled the unconscious bodies into the back, and Ian slammed the doors shut. Ian stared at my tear‑swollen eyes for just a second, then took the driver’s seat.

I rode shotgun. He held my hand again.

“Sorry, Wanda. I know this is hard for you.”

“Yes.” He had no idea how hard, and for how many different reasons.

He squeezed my fingers. “But that went well, at least. You make an excellent charm.”

Too well. Both missions had gone too perfectly, too fast. Fate was rushing me.

He drove back toward the freeway. After a few minutes, I saw a bright, familiar sign in the distance. I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes clear.

“Ian, could you do me a favor?”

“Anything you want.”

“I want fast food.”

He laughed. “No problem.”

We switched seats in the parking lot, and I drove up to the ordering box.

“What do you want?” I asked Ian.

“Nothing. I’m getting a kick out of watching you do something for yourself. This has to be a first.”

I didn’t smile at his joke. To me, this was sort of a last meal‑the final gift to the condemned. I wouldn’t leave the caves again.

“Jared, how about you?”

“Two of whatever you’re having.”

So I ordered three cheeseburgers, three bags of fries, and three strawberry shakes.

After I got my food, Ian and I switched again so I could eat while he drove.

“Eew,” he said, watching me dip a french fry into the shake.

“You should try it. It’s good.” I offered him a well‑coated fry.

He shrugged and took it. He popped it into his mouth and chewed. “Interesting.”

I laughed. “Melanie thinks it’s gross, too.” That’s why I’d cultivated the habit in the beginning. It was funny now to think how I’d gone out of my way to annoy her.

I wasn’t really hungry. I’d just wanted some of the flavors I particularly remembered, one more time. Ian finished off half my burger when I was full.

We made it home without incident. We saw no sign of the Seekers’ surveillance. Perhaps they’d accepted the coincidence. Maybe they thought it inevitable‑wander the desert alone long enough, and something bad would happen to you. We’d had a saying like that on the Mists Planet: Cross too many ice fields alone, and wind up a claw beast’s meal. That was a rough translation. It sounded better in Bear.

There was a large reception waiting for us.

I smiled halfheartedly at my friends: Trudy, Geoffrey, Heath, and Heidi. My true friends were dwindling. No Walter, no Wes. I didn’t know where Lily was. This made me sad. Maybe I didn’t want to live on this sad planet with so much death. Maybe nothingness was better.

It also made me sad, petty as it was, to see Lucina standing beside Lacey, with Reid and Violetta on the other side. They were talking animatedly, asking questions, it looked like. Lacey was holding Freedom on her hip. He didn’t look especially thrilled about this, but he was happy enough being part of the adults’ conversation that he didn’t squirm down.

I’d never been allowed near the child, but Lacey was already one of them. Trusted.

We went straight to the south tunnel, Jared and Ian laboring under the weight of the Healers. Ian had the heavier one, the man, and sweat ran down his fair face. Jeb shooed the others back at the tunnel entrance and then followed us.

Doc was waiting for us in the hospital, rubbing his hands together absently, as if washing them.

Time continued to speed up. The brighter lamp was lit. The Healers were given No Pain and laid out facedown on the cots. Jared showed Ian how to activate the tanks. They held them ready, Ian wincing at the stunning cold. Doc stood over the female, scalpel in hand and medicines laid out in a row.

“Wanda?” he asked.

My heart squeezed inward painfully. “Do you swear, Doc? All of my terms? Do you promise me on your own life?”

“I do. I will meet all of your terms, Wanda. I swear it.”

“Jared?”

“Yes. Absolutely no killing, ever.”