The Host (22 page)

The kitchen was a long corridor with a high ceiling, higher than it was wide, like my new quarters. The light was bright and hot. Instead of thin crevices through deep rock, this place had huge open holes.

“Can't cook in the daytime, of course. Smoke, you know. So we mainly use this as the mess hall until nightfall.”

All conversation had come to an abrupt halt, so Jeb's words were clear for everyone to hear. I tried to hide behind him, but he kept walking farther in.

We'd interrupted breakfast, or maybe it was lunch.

The humans–almost twenty at a quick estimate–were very close here. It wasn't like the big cavern. I wanted to keep my eyes on the floor, but I couldn't stop them from flashing around the room. Just in case. I could feel my body tensing to run for it, though where I would run, I didn't know.

Against both sides of the hallway, there were long piles of rock. Mostly rough, purple volcanic stone, with some lighter-colored substance–cement?–running between them, creating seams, holding them together. On top of these piles were different stones, browner in color, and flat.

They were glued together with the light gray grout as well. The final product was a relatively even surface, like a counter or a table. It was clear that they were used for both.

The humans sat on some, leaned on others. I recognized the bread rolls they held suspended between the table and their mouths, frozen with disbelief as they took in Jeb and his one-person tour.

Some of them were familiar. Sharon, Maggie, and the doctor were the closest group to me.

Melanie's cousin and aunt glared at Jeb furiously–I had an odd conviction that I could have stood on my head and bellowed songs out of Melanie's memory at the top of my lungs and they still would not have looked at me–but the doctor eyed me with a frank and almost friendly curiosity that made me feel cold deep inside my bones.

At the back end of the hall-shaped room, I recognized the tall man with ink black hair and my heart stuttered. I'd thought Jared was supposed to take the hostile brothers with him to make Jeb's job of keeping me alive slightly easier. At least it was the younger one, Ian, who had belatedly developed a conscience–not quite as bad as leaving Kyle behind. That consolation did not slow my racing pulse, however.

“Everybody full so quick?” Jeb asked loudly and sarcastically.

“Lost our appetites,” Maggie muttered.

“How 'bout you,” he said, turning to me. “You hungry?”

A quiet groan went through our audience.

I shook my head–a small but frantic motion. I didn't even know whether I was hungry, but I knew I couldn't eat in front of this crowd that would gladly have eaten me.

“Well, I am,” Jeb grumbled. He walked down the aisle between the counters, but I did not follow. I couldn't stand the thought of being within easy reach of the rest. I stayed pressed against the wall where I stood. Only Sharon and Maggie watched him go to a big plastic bin on one counter and grab a roll. Everyone else watched me. I was certain that if I moved an inch, they would pounce. I tried not to breathe.

“Well, let's just keep on movin',” Jeb suggested around a mouthful of bread as he ambled back to me. “Nobody seems able to concentrate on their lunch. Easily distracted, this set.” I was watching the humans for sudden movements, not really seeing their faces after that first moment when I recognized the few I could put names to. So it wasn't until Jamie stood up that I noticed him there.

He was a head shorter than the adults beside him, but taller than the two smaller children who perched on the counter on his other side. He hopped lightly off his seat and followed behind Jeb.

His expression was tight, compressed, like he was trying to solve a difficult equation in his head.

He examined me through narrow eyes as he approached on Jeb's heels. Now I wasn't the only one in the room holding my breath. The others' gazes shifted back and forth between Melanie's brother and me.

Oh, Jamie,
Melanie thought. She hated the sad, adult expression on his face, and I probably hated it even more. She didn't feel as guilty as I did for putting it there.

If only we could take it away.
She sighed.

It's too late. What could we do to make it better now?

I didn't mean the question more than rhetorically, but I found myself searching for an answer, and Melanie searched, too. We found nothing in the brief second we had to consider the matter; there was nothing to be found, I was sure. But we both knew we would be searching again when we were done with this asinine tour and had a chance to think. If we lived that long.

“Whatcha need, kid?” Jeb asked without looking at him.

“Just wondering what you're doing,” Jamie answered, his voice striving for nonchalance and only just failing.

Jeb stopped when he got to me and turned to look at Jamie. “Takin' her for a tour of the place.

Just like I do for any newcomer.”

There was another low grumble.

“Can I come?” Jamie asked.

I saw Sharon shake her head feverishly, her expression outraged. Jeb ignored her.

“Doesn't bother me… if you can mind your manners.”

Jamie shrugged. “No problem.”

I had to move then–to knot my fingers together in front of me. I wanted so badly to push Jamie's untidy hair out of his eyes and then leave my arm around his neck. Something that would not go over well, I was sure.

“Let's go,” Jeb said to us both. He took us back out the way we had come. Jeb walked on one side of me, Jamie on the other. Jamie seemed to be trying to stare at the floor, but he kept glancing up at my face–just like I couldn't help glancing down at his. Whenever our eyes met, we looked away again quickly.

We were about halfway down the big hall when I heard the quiet footsteps behind us. My reaction was instantaneous and unthinking. I skittered to one side of the tunnel, sweeping Jamie along with one arm so that I was between him and whatever was coming for me.

“Hey!” he protested, but he did not knock my arm away.

Jeb was just as quick. The gun twirled out of its strap with blinding speed.

Ian and the doctor both raised their hands above their heads.

“We can mind our manners, too,” the doctor said. It was hard to believe that this soft-spoken man with the friendly expression was the resident torturer; he was all the more terrifying to me because his exterior was so benign. A person would be on her guard on a dark and ominous night, a person would be ready. But on a clear, sunny day? How would she know to flee when she couldn't see any place for danger to hide?

Jeb squinted at Ian, the barrel of the gun shifting to follow his gaze.

“I don't mean any trouble, Jeb. I'll be just as mannerly as Doc.”

“Fine,” Jeb said curtly, stowing his gun. “Just don't test me. I haven't shot anybody in a real long time, and I sort of miss the thrill of it.”

I gasped. Everyone heard that and turned to see my horrified expression. The doctor was the first one to laugh, but even Jamie joined in briefly.

“It's a joke,” Jamie whispered to me. His hand strayed from his side, almost as if he was reaching for mine, but he quickly shoved it into the pocket of his shorts. I let my arm–still stretched protectively in front of his body–drop, too.

“Well, the day's wasting,” Jeb said, still a little surly. “You'll all have to keep up, 'cause I'm not waiting on you.” He stalked forward before he was done speaking.

Ikept tight to Jeb's side, a little in front of him. I wanted to be as far as possible from the two men following us. Jamie walked somewhere in the middle, not sure of where he wanted to be.

I wasn't able to concentrate much on the rest of Jeb's tour. My attention was not focused on the second set of gardens he led me through–one with corn growing waist-high in the blistering heat of the brilliant mirrors–or the wide but low-ceilinged cavern he called the “rec room.” That one was pitch-black and deep underground, but he told me they brought in lights when they wanted to play. The word
play
didn't make sense to me, not here in this group of tense, angry survivors, but I didn't ask him to explain. There was more water here, a tiny, noxiously sulfurous spring that Jeb said they sometimes used as a second latrine because it was no good for drinking.

My attention was divided between the men walking behind us and the boy at my side.

Ian and the doctor did mind their manners surprisingly well. No one attacked me from behind–though I thought my eyes might get lodged in the back of my head from trying to see if they were about to. They just followed quietly, sometimes talking to each other in low voices.

Their comments revolved around names I didn't know and nicknames for places and things that might or might not have been inside these caves. I couldn't understand any of it.

Jamie said nothing, but he looked at me a lot. When I wasn't trying to keep an eye on the others, I was often peeking at him, too. This left little time to admire the things Jeb showed me, but he didn't seem to notice my preoccupations.

Some of the tunnels were very long–the distances hidden beneath the ground here were mind-boggling. Often they were pitch-black, but Jeb and the others never so much as paused, clearly familiar with their whereabouts and long since accustomed to traveling in darkness. It was harder for me than it was when Jeb and I were alone. In the dark, every noise sounded like an attack. Even the doctor's and Ian's casual chatter seemed like a cover for some nefarious move.

Paranoid,
Melanie commented.

If that's what it takes to keep us alive, so be it.

I wish you would pay more attention to Uncle Jeb. This is fascinating.

Do what you want with your time.

I can only hear and see what you hear and see, Wanderer,
she told me. Then she changed the subject.
Jamie looks okay, don't you think? Not too unhappy.

He looks… wary.

We were just coming into some light after the longest trek so far in the humid blackness.

“This here is the southernmost spur of the tube system,” Jeb explained as we walked. “Not super convenient, but it gets good light all day long. That's why we made it the hospital wing.

This is where Doc does his thing.”

The moment Jeb announced where we were, my body froze and my joints locked; I skidded to a halt, my feet planted against the rock floor. My eyes, wide with terror, flickered between Jeb's face and the face of the doctor.

Had this all been a ruse, then? Wait for stubborn Jared to be out of the picture and then lure me back here? I couldn't believe I'd walked to this place under my own power. How stupid I was!

Melanie was just as aghast.
We might as well have gift-wrapped ourselves for them!

They stared back at me, Jeb expressionless, the doctor looking as surprised as I felt–though not as horrified.

I would have flinched, ripped myself away from the touch of a hand on my arm, if the hand had not been so familiar.

“No,” Jamie said, his hand hesitantly resting just below my elbow. “No, it's okay. Really. Right, Uncle Jeb?” Jamie looked trustingly at the old man. “It's okay, right?”

“Sure it is.” Jeb's faded blue eyes were calm and clear. “Just showing you my place, kid, that's all.”

“What are you talking about?” Ian grumbled from behind us, sounding annoyed that he didn't understand.

“Did you think we brought you here on purpose, for Doc?” Jamie said to me instead of answering Ian. “Because we wouldn't do that. We promised Jared.” I stared at his earnest face, trying to believe.

“Oh!” Ian said as he understood, and then he laughed. “That wasn't a bad plan. I'm surprised I didn't think of it.”

Jamie scowled at the big man and patted my arm before removing his hand. “Don't be scared,” he said.

Jeb took up where he'd left off. “So this big room here is fitted up with a few cots in case anyone gets sick or hurt. We've been pretty lucky on that count. Doc doesn't have much to work with in an emergency.” Jeb grinned at me. “Your folks threw out all
our
medicines when they took over things. Hard to get our hands on what we need.”

I nodded slightly; the movement was absentminded. I was still reeling, trying to get my bearings. This room looked innocent enough, as if it were only used for healing, but it made my stomach twist and contract.

“What do you know about alien medicine?” the doctor asked suddenly, his head cocked to the side. He watched my face with expectant curiosity.

I stared at him wordlessly.

“Oh, you can talk to Doc,” Jeb encouraged me. “He's a pretty decent guy, all things considered.”

I shook my head once. I meant to answer the doctor's question, to tell them that I knew nothing, but they misunderstood.

“She's not giving away any trade secrets,” Ian said sourly. “Are you, sweetheart?”

“Manners, Ian,” Jeb barked.

“Is it a secret?” Jamie asked, guarded but clearly curious.

I shook my head again. They all stared at me in confusion. Doc shook his head, too, slowly, baffled.

I took a deep breath, then whispered, “I'm not a Healer. I don't know how they–the medications–work. Only that they
do
work– they heal, rather than merely treating symptoms. No trial and error. Of course the human medicines were discarded.” All four of them stared with blank expressions. First they were surprised when I didn't answer, and now they were surprised when I did. Humans were impossible to please.

“Your kind didn't change too much of what we left behind,” Jeb said thoughtfully after a moment. “Just the medical stuff, and the spaceships instead of planes. Other than that, life seems to go on just the same as ever… on the surface.”

“We come to experience, not to change,” I whispered. “Health takes priority over that philosophy, though.”

I shut my mouth with an audible snap. I had to be more careful. The humans hardly wanted a lecture on soul philosophy. Who knew what would anger them? Or what would snap their fragile patience?

Jeb nodded, still thoughtful, and then ushered us onward. He wasn't as enthusiastic as he continued my tour through the few connecting caves here in the medical wing, not as involved in the presentation. When we turned around and headed back into the black corridor, he lapsed into silence. It was a long, quiet walk. I thought through what I'd said, looking for something that might have offended. Jeb was too strange for me to guess if that was the case. The other humans, hostile and suspicious as they were, at least made sense. How could I hope to make sense of Jeb?

The tour ended abruptly when we reentered the huge garden cavern where the carrot sprouts made a bright green carpet across the dark floor.

“Show's over,” Jeb said gruffly, looking at Ian and the doctor. “Go do something useful.” Ian rolled his eyes at the doctor, but they both turned good-naturedly enough and made their way toward the biggest exit–the one that led to the kitchen, I remembered. Jamie hesitated, looking after them but not moving.

“You come with me,” Jeb told him, slightly less gruff this time. “I've got a job for you.”

“Okay,” Jamie said. I could see that he was pleased to have been chosen.

Jamie walked beside me again as we headed back toward the sleeping-quarters section of the caves. I was surprised, as we chose the third passageway from the left, that Jamie seemed to know exactly where we were going. Jeb was slightly behind us, but Jamie stopped at once when we reached the green screen that covered the seventh apartment. He moved the screen aside for me but stayed in the hall.

“You okay to sit tight for a while?” Jeb asked me.

I nodded, grateful at the thought of hiding again. I ducked through the opening and then stood a few feet in, not sure what to do with myself. Melanie remembered that there were books here, but I reminded her of my vow to not touch anything.

“I got things to do, kid,” Jeb said to Jamie. “Food ain't gonna fix itself, you know. You up to guard duty?”

“Sure,” Jamie said with a bright smile. His thin chest swelled with a deep breath.

My eyes widened in disbelief as I watched Jeb place the rifle in Jamie's eager hands.

“Are you
crazy?
” I shouted. My voice was so loud that I didn't recognize it at first. It felt like I'd been whispering forever.

Jeb and Jamie looked up at me, shocked. I was out in the hallway with them in a second.

I almost reached for the hard metal of the barrel, almost ripped it from the boy's hands. What stopped me wasn't the knowledge that a move like that would surely get me killed. What stopped me was the fact that I was weaker than the humans in this way; even to save the boy, I could not make myself touch the weapon.

I turned on Jeb instead.

“What are you thinking? Giving the weapon to a child? He could kill himself!”

“Jamie's been through enough to be called a man, I think. He knows how to handle himself around a gun.”

Jamie's shoulders straightened at Jeb's praise, and he gripped the gun tighter to his chest.

I gaped at Jeb's stupidity. “What if they come for me with him here? Did you think of what could happen? This isn't a joke! They'll hurt him to get to me!” Jeb remained calm, his face placid. “Don't think there'll be any trouble today. I'd bet on it.”

“Well, I wouldn't!” I was yelling again. My voice echoed off the tunnel walls–someone was sure to hear, but I didn't care. Better they come while Jeb was still here. “If you're so sure, then leave me here alone. Let what happens happen. But don't put Jamie in danger!”

“Is it the kid you're worried about, or are you just afraid that he'll turn the gun on you?” Jeb asked, his voice almost languid.

I blinked, my anger derailed. That thought had not even occurred to me. I glanced blankly at Jamie, met his surprised gaze, and saw that the idea was shocking to him, too.

It took me a minute to recover my side of the argument, and by the time I did, Jeb's expression had changed. His eyes were intent, his mouth pursed–as if he were about to fit the last piece into a frustrating puzzle.

“Give the gun to Ian or any of the others. I don't care,” I said, my voice slow and even. “Just leave the boy out of this.”

Jeb's sudden face-wide grin reminded me, strangely, of a pouncing cat.

“It's my house, kid, and I'll do what I want. I always do.” Jeb turned his back and ambled away down the hall, whistling as he went. I watched him go, my mouth hanging open. When he disappeared, I turned to Jamie, who was watching me with a sullen expression.

“I'm not a child,” he muttered in a deeper tone than usual, his chin jutting out belligerently.

“Now, you should… you should go in your room.”

The order was less than severe, but there was nothing else I could do. I'd lost this disagreement by a large margin.

I sat down with my back against the rock that formed one side of the cave opening–the side where I could hide behind the half-opened screen but still watch Jamie. I wrapped my arms around my legs and began doing what I knew I would be doing as long as this insane situation continued: I worried.

I also strained my eyes and ears for some sound of approach, to be ready. No matter what Jeb said, I would prevent anyone from challenging Jamie's guard. I would give myself up before they asked.

Yes,
Melanie agreed succinctly.

Jamie stood in the hallway for a few minutes, the gun tight in his hands, unsure as to how to do his job. He started pacing after that, back and forth in front of the screen, but he seemed to feel silly after a couple of passes. Then he sat down on the floor beside the open end of the screen.

The gun eventually settled on his folded legs, and his chin into his cupped hands. After a long time, he sighed. Guard duty was not as exciting as he'd been expecting.

I did not get bored watching him.

After maybe an hour or two, he started looking at me again, flickering glances. His lips opened a few times, and then he thought better of whatever he was going to say.

I laid my chin on my knees and waited as he struggled. My patience was rewarded.

“That planet you were coming from before you were in Melanie,” he finally said. “What was it like there? Was it like here?”

The direction of his thoughts caught me off guard. “No,” I said. With only Jamie here, it felt right to speak normally instead of whispering. “No, it was very different.”

“Will you tell me what it was like?” he asked, cocking his head to one side the way he used to when he was really interested in one of Melanie's bedtime stories.

So I told him.

I told him all about the See Weeds' waterlogged planet. I told him about the two suns, the elliptical orbit, the gray waters, the unmoving permanence of roots, the stunning vistas of a thousand eyes, the endless conversations of a million soundless voices that all could hear.

He listened with wide eyes and a fascinated smile.

“Is that the only other place?” he asked when I fell silent, trying to think of anything I'd missed.

“Are the
See
Weeds”–he laughed once at the pun–“the only other aliens?” I laughed, too. “Hardly. No more than I'm the only alien on this world.”

“Tell me.”

So I told him about the Bats on the Singing World–how it was to live in musical blindness, how it was to fly. I told him about the Mists Planet–how it felt to have thick white fur and four hearts to keep warm, how to give claw beasts a wide berth.

I started to tell him about the Planet of the Flowers, about the color and the light, but he interrupted me with a new question.