The Host (The Host 1)

"Kinda suits her, doncha think?" Jeb was so proud of himself, I was surprised he didn't pat himself on the back, just for effect.

"Kinda, I guess," Jamie said. "Were you guys talking about dragons?"

"Yeah," Jeb told him enthusiastically, "but not the lizardy kind. They're all made up of jelly. They can fly, though. . . sort of. The air's thicker, sort of jelly, too. So it's almost like swimming. And they can breathe acid-that's about as good as fire, wouldn't you say?"

I let Jeb fill Jamie in on the details while I ate more than my share of food and drained a water bottle. When my mouth was free, Jeb started in with the questions again.

"Now, this acid. . . "

Jamie didn't ask questions the way Jeb did, and I was more careful about what I said with him there. However, this time Jeb never asked anything that might lead to a touchy subject, whether by coincidence or design, so my caution wasn't necessary.

The light slowly faded until the hallway was black. Then it was silver, a tiny, dim reflection from the moon that was just enough, as my eyes adjusted, to see the man and the boy beside me.

Jamie edged closer to me as the night wore on. I didn't realize that I was combing my fingers through his hair as I talked until I noticed Jeb staring at my hand.

I folded my arms across my body.

Finally, Jeb yawned a huge yawn that had me and Jamie doing the same.

"You tell a good story, Wanda," Jeb said when we were all done stretching.

"It's what I did. . . before. I was a teacher, at the university in San Diego. I taught history. "

"A teacher!" Jeb repeated, excited. "Well, ain't that amazin'? There's something we could use around here. Mag's girl Sharon does the teaching for the three kids, but there's a lot she can't help with. She's most comfortable with math and the like. History, now -"

"I only taught our history," I interrupted. Waiting for him to take a breath wasn't going to work, it seemed. "I wouldn't be much help as a teacher here. I don't have any training. "

"Your history is better than nothing. Things we human folks ought to know, seeing as we live in a more populated universe than we were aware of. "

"But I wasn't a real teacher," I told him, desperate. Did he honestly think anyone wanted to hear my voice, let alone listen to my stories? "I was sort of an honorary professor, almost a guest lecturer. They only wanted me because. . . well, because of the story that goes along with my name. "

"That's the next one I was going to ask for," Jeb said complacently. "We can talk about your teaching experience later. Now-why did they call you Wanderer? I've heard a bunch of odd ones, Dry Water, Fingers in the Sky, Falling Upward-all mixed in, of course, with the Pams and the Jims. I tell you, it's the kind of thing that can drive a man crazy with curiosity. "

I waited till I was sure he was done to begin. "Well, the way it usually works is that a soul will try out a planet or two-two's the average-and then they'll settle in their favorite place. They just move to new hosts in the same species on the same planet when their body gets close to death. It's very disorienting moving from one kind of body to the next. Most souls really hate that. Some never move from the planet they are born on. Occasionally, someone has a hard time finding a good fit. They may try three planets. I met a soul once who'd been to five before he'd settled with the Bats. I liked it there-I suppose that's the closest I've ever come to choosing a planet. If it hadn't been for the blindness. . . "

"How many planets have you lived on?" Jamie asked in a hushed voice. Somehow, while I'd been talking, his hand had found its way into mine.

"This is my ninth," I told him, squeezing his fingers gently.

"Wow, nine!" he breathed.

"That's why they wanted me to teach. Anybody can tell them our statistics, but I have personal experience from most of the planets we've. . . taken. " I hesitated at that word, but it didn't seem to bother Jamie. "There are only three I've never been to-well, now four. They just opened a new world. "

I expected Jeb to jump in with questions about the new world, or the ones I'd skipped, but he just played absently with the ends of his beard.

"Why did you never stay anywhere?" Jamie asked.

"I never found a place I liked enough to stay. "

"What about Earth? Do you think you'll stay here?"

I wanted to smile at his child's confidence-as if I were going to get the chance to ever move on to another host. As if I were going to get the chance to live out even another month in the one I had.

"Earth is. . . very interesting," I murmured. "It's harder than any place I've been before. "

"Harder than the place with the frozen air and the claw beasts?" he asked.

"In its own way, yes. " How could I explain that the Mists Planet only came at you from the outside-it was much more difficult to be attacked from within.

Attacked, Melanie scoffed.

I yawned. I wasn't actually thinking of you, I told her. I was thinking of these unstable emotions, always betraying me. But you did attack me. Pushing your memories on me that way.

I learned my lesson, she assured me dryly. I could feel how intensely aware she was of the hand in mine. There was an emotion slowly building in her that I didn't recognize. Something on the edge of anger, with a hint of desire and a portion of despair.

Jealousy, she enlightened me.

Jeb yawned again. "I'm being downright rude, I guess. You must be bushed-walking all over today and then me keepin' you up half the night talking. Ought to be a better host. C'mon, Jamie, let's go and let Wanda get some sleep. "

I was exhausted. It felt as if it had been a very long day, and, from Jeb's words, perhaps that wasn't in my imagination.

"Okay, Uncle Jeb. " Jamie jumped lightly to his feet and then offered his hand to the old man.

"Thanks, kid. " Jeb groaned as he got up. "And thanks to you, too," he added in my direction. "Most interesting conversation I've had in. . . well, probably forever. Rest your voice up, Wanda, because my curiosity is a powerful thing. Ah, there he is! 'Bout time. "

Only then did I hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Automatically, I shrank against the wall and scooted farther back into the cave-room, and then felt more exposed because the moonlight was brighter inside.

I was surprised that this was the first person to turn in for the night; the corridor appeared to house many.

"Sorry, Jeb. I got to talking with Sharon, and then I sort of dozed off. "

It was impossible not to recognize this easy, gentle voice. My stomach rolled, unstable, and I wished it were empty.

"We didn't even notice, Doc," Jeb said. "We were having the time of our lives here. Someday you'll h

ave to get her to tell you some of her stories-great stuff. Not tonight, though. She's got to be pretty worn out, I'd bet. We'll see you in the morning. "

The doctor was spreading a mat out in front of the cave entrance, just as Jared had.

"Keep an eye on this," Jeb said, laying the gun beside the mat.

"Are you okay, Wanda?" Jamie asked. "You're shaking. "

I hadn't realized it, but my whole body was quivering. I didn't answer him-my throat felt swollen shut.

"Now, now," Jeb said in a soothing voice. "I asked Doc if he minded taking a shift. You don't need to worry about anything. Doc's an honorable man. "

The doctor smiled a sleepy smile. "I'm not going to hurt you. . . Wanda, is it? I promise. I'll just keep watch while you sleep. "

I bit my lip, and the quivering didn't stop.

Jeb seemed to think everything was settled, though. "Night, Wanda. Night, Doc," he said as he started back down the hall.

Jamie hesitated, looking at me with a worried expression. "Doc's okay," he promised in a whisper.

"C'mon, boy, it's late!"

Jamie hurried off after Jeb.

I watched the doctor when they were gone, waiting for some change. Doc's relaxed expression didn't waver, though, and he didn't touch the gun. He stretched his long frame out on the mat, his calves and feet hanging off the end. Lying down, he looked much smaller, he was so rail thin.

"Good night," he murmured drowsily.

Of course I didn't answer. I watched him in the dull moonlight, timing the rise and fall of his chest by the sound of the pulse thudding in my ears. His breathing slowed and got deeper, and then he began to quietly snore.

It could have been an act, but even if it was, there wasn't much I could do about it. Silently, I crept deeper into the room, till I felt the edge of the mattress against my back. I'd promised myself that I would not disturb this place, but it probably wouldn't hurt anything if I just curled up on the foot of the bed. The floor was rough and so hard.

The sound of the doctor's soft snoring was comforting; even if it was put on to calm me, at least I knew exactly where he was in the darkness.

Live or die, I figured I might as well go ahead and sleep. I was dog tired, as Melanie would say. I let my eyes close. The mattress was softer than anything I'd touched since coming here. I relaxed, sinking in. . .

There was a low shuffling sound-it was inside the room with me. My eyes popped open, and I could see a shadow between the moonlit ceiling and me. Outside, the doctor's snores continued uninterrupted.