Racing Song at first—it was a loose translation of his name on… the Singing World。 But he soon opted
to take the name of his host； Kevin。 Though he was slated for a Calling in Musical Performance； given his
background； he said he felt more fortable continuing in the host’s previous line of work； which was
mechanical。
“These signs were somewhat worrisome to his assigned forter； but they were well within normal
bounds。
“Then Kevin started to plain that he was blacking out for periods of time。 They brought him back to
me； and we ran extensive tests to make sure there was no hidden flaw in the host’s brain。 During the
testing； several Healers noted marked differences in his behavior and personality。 When we questioned
him about this； he claimed to have no memory of certain statements and actions。 We continued to
observe him； along with his forter； and eventually discovered that the host was periodically taking
control of Kevin’s body。”
“Taking control？” My eyes strained wide。 “With the soul unaware？ The host took the body back？”
Not strong enough。
Would they think me weak as well？Was I weak； that I could not force this mind to answer my
questions？ Weaker still； because her living thoughts had existed in my head where there should be
nothing but memory？ I’d always thought of myself as strong。 This idea of weakness made me flinch。
Made me feel shame。
The Healer continued。 “Certain events occurred； and it was decided —”
“What events？”
The Healer looked down without answering。
“What events？”I demanded again。 “I believe I have a right to know。”
The Healer sighed。 “You do。 Kevin… physically attacked a Healer while not… himself。” He winced。
“He knocked the Healer unconscious with a blow from his fist and then found a scalpel on her person。
We found him insensible。 The host had tried to cut the soul out of his body。”
It took me a moment before I could speak。 Even then； my voice was just a breath。 “What happened to
them？”
“Luckily； the host was unable to stay conscious long enough to inflict real damage。 Kevin was relocated；
into an immature host this time。 The troublesome host was in poor repair； and it was decided there
wasn’t much point in saving him。
“Kevin is seven human years old now and perfectly normal… aside from the fact that he kept the name
Kevin； that is。 His guardians are taking great care that he is heavily exposed to music； and that is ing
along well。…” The last was added as if it were good news—news that could somehow cancel out the
rest。
“Why？” I cleared my throat so that my voice could gain some volume。 “Why have these risks not been
shared？”
“Actually；” the Seeker broke in； “it is very clearly stated in all recruitment propaganda that assimilating
the remaining adult human hosts is much more challenging than assimilating a child。 An immature host is
highly remended。”
“The wordchallenging does not quite cover Kevin’s story；” I whispered。
“Yes； well； you preferred to ignore the remendation。” She held up her hands in a peacemaking
gesture when my body tensed； causing the stiff fabric on the narrow bed to crackle softly。 “Not that I
blame you。 Childhood is extraordinarily tedious。 And you are clearly not the average soul。 I have every
confidence that this is well within your abilities to handle。 This is just another host。 I’m sure you will have
full access and control shortly。”
By this point in my observations of the Seeker； I was surprised that she’d had the patience to wait for
any delay； even my personal acclimatization。 I sensed her disappointment in my lack of information； and it
brought back some of the unfamiliar feelings of anger。
She stiffened。 “I’m no skipper。”
My eyebrows pulled up automatically。
“Another nickname；” the Healer explained。 “For those who do not plete a life term in their host。”
I nodded in understanding。 We’d had a name for it on my other worlds。 On no world was it smiled
upon。 So I quit quizzing the Seeker and gave her what I could。
“Her name was Melanie Stryder。 She was born in Albuquerque； New Mexico。 She was in Los Angeles
when the occupation became known to her； and she hid in the wilderness for a few years before
finding… Hmmm。 Sorry； I’ll try that one again later。 The body has seen twenty years。 She drove to
Chicago from…” I shook my head。 “There were several stages； not all of them alone。 The vehicle was
stolen。 She was searching for a cousin named Sharon； whom she had reason to hope was still human。
She neither found nor contacted anyone before she was spotted。 But…” I struggled； fighting against
another blank wall。 “I think… I can’t be sure… I think she left a note… somewhere。”
“So she expected someone would look for her？” the Seeker asked eagerly。
“Yes。 She will be… missed。 If she does not rendezvous with…” I gritted my teeth； truly fighting now。
The wall was black； and I could not tell how thick it was。 I battered against it； sweat beading on my
forehead。 The Seeker and the Healer were very quiet； allowing me to concentrate。
I tried thinking of something else—the loud； unfamiliar noises the engine of the car had made； the jittery
rush of adrenaline every time the lights of another vehicle drew near on the road。 I already had this； and
nothing fought me。 I let the memory carry me along； let it skip over the cold hike through the city under
the sheltering darkness of night； let it wind its way to the building where they’d found me。
Not me；her。 My body shuddered。
“Don’t overextend —” the Healer began。
The Seeker shushed him。
I let my mind dwell on the horror of discovery； the burning hatred of the Seekers that overpowered
almost everything else。 The hatred was evil； it was pain。 I could hardly bear to feel it。 But I let it run its
course； hoping it would distract the resistance； weaken the defenses。
I watched carefully as she tried to hide and then knew she could not。 A note； scratched on a piece of
debris with a broken pencil。 Shoved hastily under a door。 Not just any door。
“The pattern is the fifth door along the fifth hall on the fifth floor。 Her munication is there。”
The Seeker had a small phone in her hand； she murmured rapidly into it。
“The building was supposed to be safe；” I continued。 “They knew it was condemned。 She doesn’t know
how she was discovered。 Did they find Sharon？”
The question was not mine。
The question wasn’t mine； but it flowed naturally through my lips as if it were。 The Seeker did not notice
anything amiss。
“The cousin？ No； they found no other human；” she answered； and my body relaxed in response。 “This
host was spotted entering the building。 Since the building was known to be condemned； the citizen who
observed her was concerned。 He called us； and we watched the building to see if we could catch more
than one； and then moved in when that seemed unlikely。 Can you find the rendezvous point？”
I tried。
So many memories； all of them so colorful and sharp。 I saw a hundred places I’d never been； heard their
names for the first time。 A house in Los Angeles； lined with tall fronded trees。 A meadow in a forest； with
a tent and a fire； outside Winslow； Arizona。 A deserted rocky beach in Mexico。 A cave； the entrance
guarded by sheeting rain； somewhere in Oregon。 Tents； huts； rude shelters。 As time went on； the names
grew less specific。 She did not know where she was； nor did she care。
My name was now Wanderer； yet her memories fit it just as well as my own。 Except that my wandering
was by choice。 These flashes of memory were always tinged with the fear of the hunted。 Not wandering；
but running。
I tried not to feel pity。 Instead； I worked to focus the memories。 I didn’t need to see where she’d been；
only where she was going。 I sorted through the pictures that tied to the wordChicago； but none seemed
to be anything more than random images。 I widened my net。 What was outside Chicago？ Cold； I thought。
It was cold； and there was some worry about that。
Where？ I pushed； and the wall came back。
I exhaled in a gust。 “Outside the city—in the wilderness… a state park； away from any habitations。 It’s
not somewhere she’d been before； but she knew how to get there。”
“How soon？” the Seeker asked。
“Soon。” The answer came automatically。 “How long have I been here？”
“We let the host heal for nine days； just to be absolutely sure she was recovered；” the Healer told me。
“Insertion was today； the tenth day。”
Ten days。 My body felt a staggering wave of relief。
“Too late；” I said。 “For the rendezvous point… or even the note。” I could feel the host’s reaction to
this—could feel it much too strongly。 The host was almost…smug。 I allowed the words she thought to
be spoken； so that I could learn from them。 “He won’t be there。”
“He？” The Seeker pounced on the pronoun。 “Who？”
The black wall slammed down with more force than she’d used before。 She was the tiniest fraction of a
Again； the face filled my mind。 The beautiful face with the golden tan skin and the light…flecked eyes。 The
face that stirred a strange； deep pleasure within me while I viewed it so clearly in my mind。
Though the wall slapped into place with an acpanying sensation of vicious resentment； it was not fast
enough。
“Jared；” I answered。 As quickly as if it had e from me； the thought that was not mine followed the
name through my lips。 “Jared is safe。”
CHAPTER 4
Dreamed
It is too dark to be so hot； or maybe too hot to be so dark。 One of the two is out of place。
I crouch in the darkness behind the weak protection of a scrubby creosote bush； sweating out all the
water left in my body。 It’s been fifteen minutes since the car left the garage。 No lights have e on。 The
arcadia door is open two inches； letting the swamp cooler do its job。 I can imagine the feel of the moist；
cool air blowing through the screen。 I wish it could reach me here。
My stomach gurgles； and I clench my abdominal muscles to stifle the sound。 It is quiet enough that the
murmur carries。
I am so hungry。
There is another need that is stronger—another hungry stomach hidden safely far away in the darkness；
waiting alone in the rough cave that is our temporary home。 A cramped place； jagged with volcanic rock。
What will he do if I don’t e back？ All the pressure of motherhood with none of the knowledge or
experience。 I feel so hideously helpless。 Jamie is hungry。
There are no other houses close to this one。 I’ve been watching since the sun was still white hot in the
sky； and I don’t think there is a dog； either。
I ease up from my crouch； my calves screaming in protest； but keep hunched at the waist； trying to be
smaller than the bush。 The way up the wash is smooth sand； a pale pathway in the light of the stars。 There
are no sounds of cars on the road。
I know what they will realize when they return； the monsters who look like a nice couple in their early
fifties。 They will know exactly what I am； and the search will begin at once。 I need to b