Stephenie Meyer - The Host

Sure you could. If he’d come at you with reflective eyes, you’d have done the same. You’re naturally violent. I remembered her daydreams of strangling the Seeker. That seemed like months ago, though I knew it was only days. It would make sense if it had been longer. It ought to take time to get oneself stuck in such a disastrous mire as the one I was in now.

Melanie tried to consider it impartially. I don’t think so. Not Jared… and Jamie, there’s no way I could hurt Jamie, even if he was… She trailed off, hating that line of thought.

I considered this and found it true. Even if the child had become something or someone else, neither she nor I could ever raise a hand to him.

That’s different. You’re like… a mother. Mothers are irrational here. Too many emotions involved.

Motherhood is always emotional-even for you souls.

I didn’t answer that.

What do you think is going to happen now?

You’re the expert on humans, I reminded her. It’s probably not a good thing that they’re giving me food. I can think of only one reason they’d want me strong.

The few specifics I remembered of historical human brutalities tangled in my head with the stories in the old newspaper we’d read the other day. Fire-that was a bad one. Melanie had burned all the fingerprints off her right hand once in a stupid accident, grabbing a pan she hadn’t realized was hot. I remembered how the pain had shocked her-it was so unexpectedly sharp and demanding.

It was just an accident, though. Quickly treated with ice, salves, medicine. No one had done it on purpose, continued on from the first sickening pain, drawing it out longer and longer…

I’d never lived on a planet where such atrocities could happen, even before the souls came. This place was truly the highest and the lowest of all worlds-the most beautiful senses, the most exquisite emotions… the most malevolent desires, the darkest deeds. Perhaps it was meant to be so. Perhaps without the lows, the highs could not be reached. Were the souls the exception to that rule? Could they have the light without the darkness of this world?

I… felt something when he hit you, Melanie interrupted. The words came slowly, one by one, as if she didn’t want to think them.

I felt something, too. It was amazing how natural it was to use sarcasm now, after spending so much time with Melanie. He’s got quite a backhand, doesn’t he?

That’s not what I meant. I mean… She hesitated for a long moment, and then the rest of the words came in a rush. I thought it was all me-the way we feel about him. I thought I was… in control of that.

The thoughts behind her words were clearer than the words themselves.

You thought you were able to bring me here because you wanted it so much. That you were controlling me instead of the other way around. I tried not to be annoyed. You thought you were manipulating me.

Yes. The chagrin in her tone was not because I was upset, but because she did not like being wrong. But…

I waited.

It came in a rush once more. You’re in love with him, too, separately from me. It feels different from the way I feel. Other. I didn’t see that until he was there with us, until you saw him for the first time. How did that happen? How does a three-inch-long worm fall in love with a human being?

Worm?

Sorry. I guess you sort of have… limbs.

Not really. They’re more like antennae. And I’m quite a bit longer than three inches when they’re extended.

My point is, he’s not your species.

My body is human, I told her. While I’m attached to it, I’m human, too. And the way you see Jared in your memories… Well, it’s all your fault.

She considered that for a moment. She didn’t like it much.

So if you had gone to Tucson and gotten a new body, you wouldn’t love him anymore now?

I really, really hope that’s true.

Neither of us was happy with my answer. I leaned my head against the top of my knees. Melanie changed the subject.

At least Jamie is safe. I knew Jared would take care of him. If I had to leave him, I couldn’t have left him in better hands… I wish I could see him.

I’m not asking that! I cringed at the thought of the response that request would receive.

At the same time, I yearned to see the boy’s face for myself. I wanted to be sure that he was really here, really safe-that they were feeding him and caring for him the way Melanie never could again. The way I, mother to no one, wanted to care for him. Did he have someone to sing to him at night? To tell him stories? Would this new, angry Jared think of little things like that? Did he have someone to curl up against when he was frightened?

Do you think they will tell him that I’m here? Melanie asked.

Would that help or hurt him? I asked back.

Her thought was a whisper. I don’t know… I wish I could tell him that I kept my promise.

You certainly did. I shook my head, amazed. No one can say that you didn’t come back, just like always.

Thanks for that. Her voice was faint. I couldn’t tell if she meant for my words now, or if she meant the bigger picture, bringing her here.

I was suddenly exhausted, and I could feel that she was, too. Now that my stomach had settled a bit and felt almost halfway full, the rest of my pains were not sharp enough to keep me awake. I hesitated before moving, afraid to make any noise, but my body wanted to uncurl and stretch out. I did so as silently as I could, trying to find a piece of the bubble long enough for me. Finally, I had to stick my feet almost out the round opening. I didn’t like doing it, worried that Jared would hear the movement close to him and think I was trying to escape, but he didn’t react in any way. I pillowed the good side of my face against my arm, tried to ignore the way the curve of the floor cramped my spine, and closed my eyes.

I think I slept, but if I did, it wasn’t deeply. The sound of footsteps was still very far away when I came fully awake.

This time I opened my eyes at once. Nothing had changed-I still could see the dull blue light through the round hole; I still could not see if Jared was outside it. Someone was coming this way-it was easy to hear that the footsteps were coming closer. I pulled my legs away from the opening, moving as quietly as I could, and curled up against the back wall again. I would have liked to be able to stand; it would have made me feel less vulnerable, more prepared to face whatever was coming. The low ceiling of the cave bubble would barely have allowed me to kneel.

There was a flash of movement outside my prison. I saw part of Jared’s foot as he rose silently to his feet.

“Ah. Here you are,” a man said. The words were so loud after all the empty silence that I jumped. I recognized the voice. One of the brothers I’d seen in the desert-the one with the machete, Kyle.

Jared didn’t speak.

“We’re not going to allow this, Jared.” It was a different speaker, a more reasonable voice. Probably the younger brother, Ian. The brothers’ voices were very similar-or they would have been, if Kyle weren’t always half shouting, his tone always twisted with anger. “We’ve all lost somebody-hell, we’ve all lost everybody. But this is ridiculous.”

“If you won’t let Doc have it, then it’s got to die,” Kyle added, his voice a growl.

“You can’t keep it prisoner here,” Ian continued. “Eventually, it will escape and we’ll all be exposed.”