The Host (The Host #1)(167)

Inside, the room-darkening curtains were drawn, and the men relaxed a little bit.

Ian lounged on the bed he and Jared would use, and flipped on the TV. Jared put the suitcase on the table, took out our dinner—cooled greasy breaded chicken strips I’d ordered from the deli in the last store—and passed it around. I sat by the window, peeking through the corner at the falling sun as I ate.

“You have to admit, Wanda, we humans had better entertainment,” Ian teased.

On the television screen, two souls were speaking their lines clearly, their bodies held with perfect posture. It wasn’t hard to pick up what was happening in the story because there wasn’t a lot of variety in the scripts souls wrote. In this one, two souls were reconnecting after a long separation. The male’s stint with the See Weeds had come between them, but he’d chosen to be human because he guessed his partner from the Mists Planet would be drawn to these warm-blooded hosts. And, miracle of miracles, he’d found her here.

They all had happy endings.

“You have to consider the intended audience.”

“True. I wish they’d run old human shows again.” He flipped through the channels and frowned. “Used to be a few of them on.”

“They were too disturbing. They had to be replaced with things that weren’t so… violent.”

“The Brady Bunch?”

I laughed. I’d seen that show in San Diego, and Melanie knew it from her childhood. “It condoned aggression. I remember one where a little male child punched a bully, and that was portrayed as being the right thing to do. There was blood.”

Ian shook his head in disbelief but returned to the show with the former See Weed. He laughed at the wrong parts, the parts that were supposed to be touching.

I stared out the window, watching something much more interesting than the predictable story on television.

Across the two-lane road from the inn was a small park, bordered on one side by a school and on the other by a field where cows grazed. There were a few young trees, and an old-fashioned playground with a sandbox, a slide, a set of monkey bars, and one of those hand-pulled merry-go-rounds. Of course there was a swing set, too, and that was the only equipment being used currently.

A little family was taking advantage of the cooler evening air. The father had some silver in his dark hair at the temples; the mother looked many years his junior. Her red brown hair was pulled back in a long ponytail that bobbed when she moved. They had a little boy, no more than a year old. The father pushed the child in the swing from behind, while the mother stood in front, leaning in to kiss his forehead when he swung her way, making him giggle so hard that his chubby little face was bright red. This had her laughing, too—I could see her body shake with it, her hair dancing.

“What are you staring at, Wanda?”

Jared’s question wasn’t anxious, because I was smiling softly at the surprising scene.

“Something I’ve never seen in all my lives. I’m staring at… hope.”

Jared came to stand behind me, peeking out over my shoulder. “What do you mean?” His eyes swept across the buildings and the road, not pausing on the playing family.

I caught his chin and pointed his face in the right direction. He didn’t so much as flinch at my unexpected touch, and that gave me a strange jolt of warmth in the pit of my stomach. “Look,” I said.

“What am I looking at?”

“The only hope for survival I’ve ever seen for a host species.”

“Where?” he demanded, bewildered.

I was aware of Ian close behind us now, listening silently.

“See?” I pointed at the laughing mother. “See how she loves her human child?”

At that moment, the woman snatched her son from the swing and squeezed him in a tight embrace, covering his face with kisses. He cooed and flailed—just a baby. Not the miniature adult he would have been if he carried one of my kind.

Jared gasped. “The baby is human? How? Why? For how long?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never seen this before—I don’t know. She has not given him up for a host. I can’t imagine that she would be… forced. Motherhood is all but worshipped among my kind. If she is unwilling…” I shook my head. “I have no idea how that will be handled. This doesn’t happen elsewhere. The emotions of these bodies are so much stronger than logic.”

I glanced up at Jared and Ian. They were both staring openmouthed at the interspecies family in the park.

“No,” I murmured to myself. “No one would force the parents if they wanted the child. And just look at them.”

The father had his arms around both the mother and the child now. He looked down at his host body’s biological son with staggering tenderness in his eyes.

“Aside from ourselves, this is the first planet we’ve discovered with live births. Yours certainly isn’t the easiest or most prolific system. I wonder if that’s the difference… or if it’s the helplessness of your young. Everywhere else, reproduction is through some form of eggs or seeds. Many parents never even meet their young. I wonder…” I trailed off, my thoughts full of speculation.

The mother lifted her face to her partner, and he kissed her lips. The human child crowed with delight.

“Hmm. Perhaps, someday, some of my kind and some of yours will live in peace. Wouldn’t that be… strange?”