F. Paul Wilson - Hosts

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said finally as she pulled away from him, but not too far. "I don't usually lose it but…"

"Nothing usual about any of this," he said, staring at her. "Are you all right now?"

Kate nodded but didn't really mean it. What did "all right" mean anymore?

"You mean, am I me? Yes. The Unity's gone… for the moment at least." Off stage now, but she could sense it hovering in the wings. "But it's winning, Jack."

His expression was stricken. "Don't say that, Kate."

"It's true. With every passing hour 1 seem to be a little less me and a little more Unity. It's like this virulent malignancy, metastasizing throughout my body, multiplying in every organ and tissue, crowding out the healthy cells until I'm all tumor."

"Kate—"

"I was on the verge of killing you, Jack! If you hadn't woken up…"

Her throat constricted around another sob as she envisioned that blade slicing into his chest, but she would not break down again. Time was too short.

"You were fighting it. I could see that."

"But what you couldn't see was that I was losing . Last night I completely stopped the knife, but—"

"Last night?"

"Yes! While you were in bed. Same knife, but I won. Today was different. It was stronger." She remembered her failing will, the resistance leaching out of her arm, and an ugly, tainted part of her whispering, Yes! Do it! Do it ! "Another twenty or thirty seconds and…"

"Jeez."

"But the worst part is I'm starting to like it, Jack. It sickens me now, but when the Unity's with me… the love, the complete unconditional acceptance, the feeling of being part of something so much bigger and more important is like a drug, and the infiltrated part of my brain is succumbing."

"But you're okay now."

"Now. But I can't spend the rest of my life standing in front of a microwave."

His eyes hardened. "Don't worry. You won't have to."

She knew what he was thinking, but despite all she'd been through, the idea still appalled her.

"The Unity had it in for you before, Jack, but now that you've killed Ellen it will really be after you."

"Was that her name?"

Kate nodded. "The Unity is reeling from her loss. They want you dead; they may set a trap for you."

"Let them."

"They're seven, and they can follow you without you knowing it. Think about it, Jack: seven minds, each knowing exactly what the others are thinking, what they're doing, what they're going to do."

"But they'll be on my turf."

"I've got a better idea." This had just occurred to her. "Get me away from New York, get me as far away as possible."

"You mean where the Unity can't reach you?"

"Yes. There has to be a limit to its range. If I can go far enough, to where I fall off its radar…"

"If it can't find you, it can't rule you." As Jack reached for the phone his face lost the grim expression it had worn since he'd walked in. "I'll put us in the next two empty seats to California."

"Wait," Kate said as another thought struck her. "Once I'm away from the microwave, what's to prevent me from telling the first cop I see that you're trying to kidnap me?"

Jack's hand dropped back to his side. "Damn."

"We can go by car."

"Yeah, but what's to stop you from—"

"You can tie me up." She shook her head as his eyes widened. "Don't look at me like that. Just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I have bondage fantasies too. I'm serious. Bind me, gag me, put me in a burlap sack, toss me into your trunk, and take me far away fast."

"You're not kidding?"

"Jack, you can't imagine what it's like to feel your soul being engulfed. Once I'm out of range, I can wait for the cure."

"Let's think this through," he said slowly. "Let's say we get as far as Pittsburgh or Ohio tonight. How will we know if that's far enough?" He pointed to the cracked glass of the humming microwave. "I'm not buying a word you say once you're away from this."

"Simple. We'll bring the oven with us. Every time we stop, you find a place to plug it in and test me. If I still need it, we keep on moving."

He shook his head. "I don't like it, Kate. The idea of you in that trunk hour after hour…"

The thought of being tied up in such a small space terrified her, but not as much as surrendering to the Unity.

"It's a big trunk. Huge."

"I don't know…"

"You have a better idea?"

"No." He sighed. "All right. But I'll need to get some rope—soft rope—and since I don't stock body bags, I'll have to find something to wrap you in. And I'll want to get quilts to give you some cushioning."

"That means you have to go out and leave me."

He nodded.

The idea terrified her. "What if the microwave goes off?"

"I've set it for the max. The timer's got over ninety-nine hours left on it."

"Yesterday they were predicting storms for today. Are they still?"

"I think so."

"What if there's a power failure?"

"That almost never happens."

"But what if it does?"

The grim lines returned to his face. "I don't know."

"You do know: I become an enemy." And I lose control. And I stop being me. "We've got to try a test. I need to know how long I've got after the microwave goes off."

"I don't think that's such a good—"

"Please, Jack. We'll pause it for twenty seconds."

"Ten."

"Twenty, and then turn it back on. No matter what I say, turn it back on after twenty."

"All right," he said, shaking his head. "But I don't like it."

"I hate it." Her palms were moist already. "But I've got to know."

"Ready?" He placed a finger over the PAUSE/CLEAR button—"Here goes"—and pressed it.

As the oven's hum died, Kate watched the clock.

"Five seconds," Jack said, eyes on his watch.

Nothing yet.

"Ten seconds."

Still okay.

And then another sort of hum, vocal instead of mechanical, accompanied by a flood of loving warmth… even the air around her seem to take on a golden glow.

Kate, we've missed you so. Did he hurt you? You mustn't let him do that again.

A flood of disjointed thoughts and impressions swirled and eddied around the words as they flowed through her.

We need you, Kate. Now more than ever.

"Fifteen seconds," Jack said.

Why was he counting? she wondered. An instant ago he'd cracked the microwave oven's glass door and turned it on, but now it was off.

"Sixteen."

She sensed she had lost time. How much?

"Seventeen."

He must have started the oven and broken her contact with the Unity.

Yes, Kate. He took you away from us for a long time. Is he going to do it again? Is that why he's counting?

I don't know .

"Eighteen."

How long before he turns it back on?

I don't know !

Why didn't she know? He must not have told her.

He mustn't turn it on again!

She agreed. This was too good a feeling to lose. But then another part of her, a shrinking part, cried out to press the button herself.

"Nineteen."

She saw Jack reach for the start button.

Stop him!

"Wait, Jack." She gripped his arm. "Don't—"

"Damn," he said and hit the button.

NOOOoooo…

Abruptly the hum and peach-glow warmth faded, replaced by the cold fluorescent reality of Jack's kitchen.

"It got you, didn't it," he said.

Kate nodded, fighting back a tide of depression. "Somewhere around twelve seconds."

"Jeez."

"But Jack, it was the strangest thing. Once the Unity came back I had no idea why you were counting. Neither did the Unity. Eventually it was obvious you were going to turn on the oven again, but I didn't know when. We'd agreed on twenty seconds but the memory was completely gone. The Unity appears to be blind to what I experience with the microwave running; so blind that my Unity self has no memory of it once the oven is turned off. It's like I'm two people now."