- •Stephenie Meyer The Host
- •I was surprised at his accusation, at his tone. This discussion was almost like… an argument. Something my host was familiar with but that I’d never experienced.
- •I did not open my eyes. I didn’t want to be distracted. My mind gave me the words I needed, and the tone that would convey what I couldn’t say without using many words.
- •I decided to open my eyes. I felt the need to double-check the Healer’s promises and make sure the rest of me worked.
- •It took me a moment before I could speak. Even then, my voice was just a breath. “What happened to them?”
- •I nodded in understanding. We’d had a name for it on my other worlds. On no world was it smiled upon. So I quit quizzing the Seeker and gave her what I could.
- •I tried.
- •I stared down at my hands and said nothing.
- •I thought her question through carefully. “I don’t think so. Not so I’ve noticed.”
- •I coughed twice and shook my head. I was sure it was over; my stomach was empty.
- •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.
- •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 jerked away from her, my face flushing.
- •I shrug, and my stomach flutters. “It’s beautiful here.”
- •I let the engine idle as I tried to think of options besides sleeping in the car, surrounded by the black emptiness of the desert night. Melanie waited patiently, knowing I would find none.
- •I was able to contain my anxiety as I walked hesitantly to the vacant door frame; we must be just as alone here as we had been all day and all yesterday.
- •I cringed, shoving the paper away from me, back into the dark cupboard.
- •I pulled the stiff door back and found the mother lode.
- •I’d turned my back on the east to get the sun off my face for a moment.
- •I laughed at her now. The sound was sucked away by the scorching wind.
- •I don’t know, I’ve never died before.
- •I tasted blood inside my cheek.
- •I shivered in the oven-hot air.
- •I looked for only one thing-where Jared was, so that I could put myself between him and his attackers.
- •I’m not ready to die right this second.
- •I was surprised that the strangely fluid babble did not respond in any way to our entrance. Perhaps they couldn’t see us yet, either.
- •I stood where he’d left me, trying to keep my eyes off Jamie’s face and failing.
- •In spite of myself, I smiled at his unwilling interest. “Far away. Another planet.”
- •Ian and the doctor both raised their hands above their heads.
- •I closed my eyes.
- •I folded my arms across my body.
- •It was quiet for a moment, just the sounds of our footsteps echoing, low and muffled, from the tunnel walls.
- •I thought about the word misfit for a moment. It might have been the truest description of me I’d ever heard. Where had I ever fit in?
- •I could feel my cheeks getting warm.
- •I was in about my fourth week as an informal teacher when life in the caves changed again.
- •I glanced at him wildly, searching for that same guilt on his face. I didn’t find it, only a defensive tightening around his vivid eyes as he stared at the newcomers.
- •I peeked through narrowed eyes as Jared whirled to assess the truth of Jeb’s claim.
- •I realized now that Jamie was just as sad as everyone else here.
- •I appraised his fierce expression-the fire in his brilliant eyes.
- •I noticed how he said when, not if. No matter what promises he’d made, he didn’t see me lasting in the long term.
- •I hated this room. In the darkness, with the odd shadows thrown by the weak glow, it seemed only more forbidding. There was a new smell-the room reeked of slow decay and stinging alcohol and bile.
- •I don’t know. This is all my fault!
- •It was a horrible day. The worst of my life on this planet, even including my first day in the caves and the last hot, dry day in the desert, hours from death.
- •It was over, and I knew it.
- •I didn’t answer. I was afraid of giving him something to use against Kyle.
- •I let him have the gun willingly. He laughed again at my expression.
- •I took a deep breath.
- •I shrugged. “a million or so.”
- •I closed my eyes, wishing my mouth had stayed closed. I felt dizzy. Was I just tired or was it my head wound?
- •I was so tired. I didn’t care that Kyle was three feet from me. I didn’t care that two of the men in the room would side with Kyle if he came around. I didn’t care about anything but sleep.
- •Ian started to stand beside me.
- •Ian stared at his brother for a moment, then sat on the ground beside me again.
- •Ian started to rise again.
- •Ian didn’t give him a chance to answer. He yanked the door out of his way-roughly but very quietly-and then slid into his room and put the door back in its place.
- •I didn’t know what I thought. About any of it.
- •I nodded. “Yes. More than strange. Impossible.”
- •I nodded at that, but he kept going, ignoring me.
- •It made a squishing sound and a thud-that was the first thing I noticed-and then the shock of the blow wore off, and I felt it, too.
- •I pulled myself up. “Perfect.” It was true. I hadn’t felt so healthy in a long time. The sharp shift from pain to ease made the sensation more powerful.
- •I laughed. “It’s amazing. If you stab yourself, I could show you… That’s a joke.”
- •I don’t think it’s the No Pain. Not for either of us.
- •I tuned them out. Once Ian and Kyle got started, they usually went on for a while. I consulted the map.
- •I tried to smile remorsefully. I could tell I sounded stiff, like the too-careful actors on the television.
- •I jumped, startled, and the little pill slipped from my fingers. It dropped to the metal floor with a faintly audible clink. I felt the blood drain from my face as though a plug had been pulled.
- •I looked back at the truck, too, a forced smile on my face. I couldn’t see who was driving. My eyes reflected the headlights, shot out faint beams of their own.
- •I shuddered.
- •I hadn’t decided if I wanted to talk to her. At least, that was what I’d told Jeb.
- •I slowed myself to a walk before I interrupted him. I didn’t want to scare him, to make him think there was an emergency.
- •I heard the double meaning in his words.
- •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.
- •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.
- •I paused to shudder.
- •I paused to laugh quietly to myself.
- •I nodded, not convinced. “I won’t show you unless I believe that.”
- •I shook my head. “I think he sees where this is going. He must guess my plan.”
- •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.
- •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.
- •I stroked her soft cheek, but there was no response, so I took her limp hand in mine again. I gazed at the blue sky through the holes in the high ceiling. My mind wandered.
- •It just wasn’t as shocking as it used to be.
- •I saw Jeb’s eyes brighten with his unquenchable curiosity.
- •I took a deep breath and walked slowly into Doc’s place. I announced my presence in a low, even voice. “Hello.”
- •I winced-I had a more recent memory.
- •I could hear Trudy talking to the Healer’s host, but I tuned out the words. Let the humans take care of their own for the moment.
- •I stared at him for a few seconds, and then my eyes grew wide. “Sunny’s gone? Already?”
- •Ian lurched to his feet.
- •I turn to look at her, and I don’t know the face, either. She’s pretty.
- •Ian was happy. This insight made my worry suddenly much lighter, easier to bear.
- •Ian squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper through all the hair. His voice was so low that I was the only one who could hear. “I held you in my hand, Wanderer. And you were so beautiful.”
I took a deep breath.
Melanie wanted to touch him. His hand was close to mine, resting on the edge of my cot.
Please, no, I told her. My face hurts quite enough as it is!
He won’t hit you.
You think. I’m not willing to risk it.
Melanie sighed; she yearned to move toward him. It wouldn’t have been so hard to bear if I weren’t yearning also.
Give him time, I pleaded. Let him get used to us. Wait till he really believes.
She sighed again.
“Aw, hell!” Kyle grumbled. My gaze flickered toward him at the sound of his voice. I could just see his bright eyes around Jared’s elbow, focused on me. “It didn’t fall!” he complained.
CHAPTER 34.Buried
Jared lunged forward, away from me. With a loud smacking sound, his fist hit Kyle’s face.
Kyle’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his mouth fell slack.
The room was very quiet for a few seconds.
“Um,” Doc said in a mild voice, “medically speaking, I’m not sure that was the most helpful thing for his condition.”
“But I feel better,” Jared answered, sullen.
Doc smiled the tiniest smile. “Well, maybe a few more minutes of unconsciousness won’t kill him.”
Doc began looking under Kyle’s lids again, taking his pulse…
“What happened?” Wes was by my head, speaking in a murmur.
“Kyle tried to kill it,” Jared answered before I could. “Are we really surprised?”
“Did not,” I muttered.
Wes looked at Jared.
“Altruism seems to come more naturally to it than lies,” Jared noted.
“Are you trying to be annoying?” I demanded. My patience was not waning, but entirely gone. How long had it been since I’d slept? The only thing that ached worse than my leg was my head. Every breath hurt my side. I realized, with some surprise, that I was in a truly bad mood. “Because if you are, then be assured, you have succeeded.”
Jared and Wes looked at me with shocked eyes. I was sure that if I could see the others, their expressions would match. Maybe not Jeb’s. He was the master of the poker face.
“I am female,” I complained. “That ‘it’ business is really getting on my nerves.”
Jared blinked in surprise. Then his face settled back into harder lines. “Because of the body you wear?”
Wes glared at him.
“Because of me,” I hissed.
“By whose definition?”
“How about by yours? In my species, I am the one that bears young. Is that not female enough for you?”
That stopped him short. I felt almost smug.
As you should, Melanie approved. He’s wrong, and he’s being a pig about it.
Thank you.
We girls have to stick together.
“That’s a story you’ve never told us,” Wes murmured, while Jared struggled for a rebuttal. “How does that work?”
Wes’s olive-toned face darkened, as if he’d just realized he had spoken the words out loud. “I mean, I guess you don’t have to answer that, if I’m being rude.”
I laughed. My mood was swinging around wildly, out of control. Slaphappy, like Mel had said. “No, you’re not asking anything… inappropriate. We don’t have such a complicated… elaborate setup as your species.” I laughed again, and then felt warmth in my face. I remembered only too clearly how elaborate it could be.
Get your mind out of the gutter.
It’s your mind, I reminded her.
“Then…?” Wes asked.
I sighed. “There are only a few of us who are… Mothers. Not Mothers. That’s what they call us, but it’s just the potential to be one…” I was sober again, thinking of it. There were no Mothers, no surviving Mothers, only the memories of them.
“You have that potential?” Jared asked stiffly.
I knew the others were listening. Even Doc had paused in the act of putting his ear to Kyle’s chest.
I didn’t answer his question. “We’re… a little like your hives of bees, or your ants. Many, many sexless members of the family, and then the queen…”
“Queen?” Wes repeated, looking at me with a strange expression.
“Not like that. But there is only one Mother for every five, ten thousand of my kind. Sometimes less. There’s no hard-and-fast rule.”
“How many drones?” Wes wondered.
“Oh, no-there aren’t drones. No, I told you, it’s simpler than that.”
They waited for me to explain. I swallowed. I shouldn’t have brought this up. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Was it really such a big thing to have Jared call me “it”?
They still waited. I frowned, but then I spoke. I’d started this. “The Mothers… divide. Every… cell, I guess you could call it, though our structure isn’t the same as yours, becomes a new soul. Each new soul has a little of the Mother’s memory, a piece of her that remains.”
“How many cells?” Doc asked, curious. “How many young?”