by Sara King
“Thanks,” Stuart said. “For not shooting me.”
Rabbit was watching him carefully. “Was it you?”
“No,” Stuart said immediately, horrified.
“Would you tell me if it was?”
Stuart winced. “Uh. Probably not, no.”
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Rabbit hopped up, then, giving Stuart one last appraising look, turned toward the door. “I’m going to go see what I can do about getting Athenais’s location. Wait here until Giggles brings in your clothes before you…do your thing.” At that, he wrenched the door open and left Stuart alone in the room.
Giggles came in with a wad of smelly rags, gave Stuart a suspicious glance, and went back to the bar. Stuart dressed in the rags, wrinkling his nose at the smell of urine. He wadded up the remnants of the Utopian uniform and tossed it in the recycler. When he was done, he took a steadying breath, then pulled open the door to the back room and stepped into the bar.
The man Rabbit had pointed out was hunched by himself in a corner, glowering at the tabletop, nursing a beer. He didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.
Stuart was wondering how he was going to get the bandana-wearing man alone when someone suddenly jumped up from the table in front of him and socked him, the heavy blow reaching Stuart even through his host’s skull.
Rabbit had set him up. In despair, Stuart stumbled backwards across a chair, trying to catch himself on the tabletop, but failing. As he hit the chair, Stuart heard a loud popping sound as something broke in his side, and a blast of pain surged up his tendrils before he could retract them. He cried out, despite himself.
The man who had punched Stuart spat on him and laughed. “Utopian scum, is what you are. Well, Rabbit ain’t here to protect you no more. Ain’t you gonna get up, Utopi? Ain’t you gonna call in your troops, have us all arrested?”
Stuart groaned and rolled over onto his side. He was pretty sure several of his host’s ribs were broken. He could feel them piercing into Koff’s side as he breathed.
Someone grabbed him by the collar of his filthy coat.
“Hey, now!” Giggles shouted. “Leave him alone, Darley.” His voice was muffled by the wall of glass.
“You just mind your own business, Giggles,” Darley said. Yanking Stuart back onto his feet by his collar, he twisted him around and slammed him down, face-first on the tabletop. The motion raked Stuart’s innards against his broken ribs and he screamed.
“Fine, but you’re gonna hear it from Rabbit,” Giggles shouted.
“Rabbit ain’t gonna do nothin’ to us for gettin’ rid of Utopi trash. You saw him. He was gonna shoot the bastard.”
“You’re a damn hothead, Darley,” Giggles shouted. “Rabbit had me get ‘im some clothes. He wouldn’t do that for no Utopi.”
“Yeah, well, maybe this one’s got a silver tongue.” Darley grinned at Stuart. “That it, boy? You got a silver tongue?” Suddenly a dirty finger was prying his mouth open, to the very edges of its capacity. Stuart gagged, and Darley released him, laughing. “Guess not.” He rammed Stuart’s face into the chair he had just vacated. Stuart felt bones break in his host’s nose.
Stuart was finding it hard to breathe. His phobia of having his host die while still implanted began to tear at his mind, ravaging his good sense. Sheer animal panic was beginning to set in. He had to stop himself from reaching out and shocking Darley right there in front of everyone.
“Don’t feel like talking, boy?” Darley grabbed Stuart and shoved him over another table, spilling drinks with his face, making Stuart’s host’s shattered side scream in agony. The entire room roared with laughter.
“I knew some Utopis once,” Darley continued, kicking Stuart toward the front door. “Back when I lived on Roth. Starved me wife of the Potion once they found out she had colonist blood. Put me in jail when I tried to buy it for her on the black market. Had me workin’ the mines on Erriat for two centuries ‘fore they let me go. By then, she was dead.” He kicked Stuart again, sending him stumbling out into the cold night.
Stuart stumbled to his knees on the sidewalk.
“Goddamn it, that’s enough, Darley.” Rabbit’s voice was like an oasis in the desert. He came walking up out of the darkness of the alley behind The Shop, looking irritated. For such a small man, he had a commanding presence that rivaled even Athenais’s.
“But…”
“This man isn’t a Utopi,” Rabbit growled. “Why the hell do you think he’d come to The Shop, you knuckle-dragging moron?”
“Because he—”
“Go get Earl to carry him back to my room.”
“Why Earl?” Darley blabbered. He looked absolutely terrified of the lean little man.
“Because Earl’s bigger than you are, not a blind idiot, and he doesn’t give a shit about Utopis.”
“But I can—”
“No, you can’t. Get Earl, unless you never wanna use my place again.”
Stuart rolled over and looked up at Darley. His tormentor’s face was pale. “Earl’s crazy. He’s not gonna help you carry this piece of shit anywhere.”
“He will, or he can stop patronizing my establishment. Same for you.”
Darley’s bloodshot eyes went round. Like a terrified rat, he scuttled backwards into the bar and disappeared. A few minutes later, the hulking man with the blue bandanna came to the door and glowered at Rabbit, then down at Stuart.
“What you want?” he grunted, looking more than a little tweaked at being interrupted.
“I want you to help me carry this man to my room,” Rabbit said, gesturing at Stuart. “Darley just beat the crap outta him. He’s injured, probably broken ribs.”
Earl frowned down at Stuart. “So?”
“So, I thought of you first,” Rabbit said. “Thought you might want a free beer or two. Grab his feet.”
Earl scowled at Rabbit, then at Stuart, but bent down and did as he was asked.
“We’ll take him around back,” Rabbit said. “Don’t want to make any more of a scene with Darley if I can help it.”
Earl grunted, lifting Stuart’s host’s legs off of the ground. Rabbit grabbed Stuart’s hands and tugged, struggling with the weight. Earl gave him and irritated look, but said nothing as the small man grunted and cursed, waddling with Stuart’s weight. The process took much longer than it should have, and by the end of it, Earl looked like he was ready to throw down Stuart’s legs and stalk off in frustration.
They carried Stuart around to the back door and set him down while Rabbit fumbled with his keys. Earl leaned against the wall of The Shop and waited impatiently, scowling alternately at Rabbit and Stuart.
As Rabbit continued to fumble, Earl pushed off the wall and growled, “Just give me the damn—”
Something sprang from the darkness of the alley so suddenly that the man didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before two separate entities slammed into him, plowing him into the ground. As he cursed and struggled, they wrenched his hands behind his back and tied them in place. Then they bound his legs together, stopping only to kick their victim when he bit one of them.
Stuart’s mouth fell open when he realized it was Darley and Giggles.
Rabbit stopped fumbling and put his keys back into his pocket. He twisted the handle and pushed the door open. Holding it wide for them, he said, “Tape his mouth shut—I don’t want him disturbing my clients. And get him inside before he pisses on my doorstep. I just had that mat cleaned.”
“What the—” Earl began, but it was cut off as Darley applied the tape. Then he and Giggles grabbed the struggling man and roughly dragged him through the open door.
“Put him over there, on the plastic.”
At the mention of plastic, Earl started screaming behind the tape, kicking and twisting like a wild thing. Giggles hit him over the head with the butt of his gun to quiet him.
“Good,” Rabbit said. “Now the Utopi.”
Much more gently, this time, Giggles and Darley helped St
uart to his feet. “You okay, bud?” Darley said. His eyes caught on his bloody nose. “Sorry, man. Wasn’t tryin’ to break shit.”
“You two get out of here,” Rabbit ordered. “Darley, you’ll have to get your drinks somewhere else the rest of the night.” Rabbit reached into his shirt and removed a credit coin from a hidden pocket inside. “Use this. It’s got a hundred-some credits on it. Should be good for a night if you don’t go off gambling.”
Darley grinned. “I should get booted out of The Shop more often.” He tucked the credit coin away in a breast pocket and sauntered off.
“Go make sure he doesn’t try to get back in,” Rabbit muttered.
“You two got this?” Giggles eyed the struggling shape on the floor.
“Yeah,” Rabbit said, eying Stuart. “He’ll be a different man by the time we’re done with him.”
“I’m not so sure,” Giggles said dubiously. “He’s liable to just be pissed off. He’s a crazy bastard.”
Rabbit grinned, and his smile made Stuart go cold. “Give us a few hours and he’ll be singing a different tune.”
Giggles shrugged and glanced at Stuart. “How bad you hurt? I saw Darley give you a couple good ‘uns, the prick.”
“He’s fine,” Rabbit said. “See no one disturbs us, all right?”
“You got it.” Giggles turned and went back out into the alley, closing the door behind him.
Rabbit let out an explosive sigh. “Well, he’s all yours.” He looked up at Stuart, grimaced, then nudged the struggling man in the back with the soft leather of a loafered toe. “Can’t say I envy you the next few years, pisswad, but you earned every minute of it.” He squatted to ruffle the man’s hair, which made Earl howl obscenities through the gag. Then, grunting, the wiry little man stood and went to the back door. Hand on the latch, he paused at the threshold to look back at Stuart. Nodding at the man on the floor, Rabbit said, “I don’t think anyone will really miss him, if you know what I mean. Pretty much been a self-serving terror around T-9 since he was outta diapers.”
“You’re not staying?” Stuart asked, nervous.
Rabbit gave Stuart a long, hard look. “I got stuff to do.” Then he jerked the door open and disappeared into the night, slamming the door behind him.
Stuart flinched at the reverberating thud. Swallowing, he looked down at his new host. Bound hand and foot, his mouth taped shut… He’d be helpless until Rabbit came back. Was that what the wily little man wanted? After pulling the stunt with Darley, he wouldn’t put it past him.
Stuart tried to think of a way to avoid another transfer. He didn’t want to take another life. What he wanted to do was wake up and find that everything after running into the shifters was just a really bad dream. Knowing that wasn’t going to happen, however, every millimeter of him yearned for the alluring alternative of crawling in a hole and hiding, and letting everything—the shifters, the Millennium Potion, the struggles on Penoi—go on without him. He was good at that. Part of how he stayed alive so long.
Coward, his conscience snapped. While you were safely keeping your head down and living a happy human life, your people were being slaughtered.
Stuart didn’t want to do another transfer. While the man definitely fit the type of host Stuart preferred—a hardened criminal that society would be better without—he was still a man. Not a harra. It wouldn’t be a bond, a symbiosis between two creatures, a blissful give and take. It would be completely one-sided, Stuart forcibly seizing what he wanted, the human a helpless, unwilling participant.
A parasite and its host.
Stuart’s stomach churned. He knew his survival depended on it. He knew he had no other choice. With his escape from the Utopian ship, where every hall was monitored, every room under video surveillance, the S.O. knew exactly what he looked like, and would throw everything they had at tracking him down. If he didn’t change hosts, now, all that time he’d spent hiding in a hole would have been for naught.
Reluctantly, he made his decision.
His victim stiffened as Stuart approached.
“Just try to stay calm,” Stuart whispered, though the all-too-familiar shame was settling like a rancid pool in his gut. “I’ll be quick.” He tried to touch the man’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, but Earl jerked away, snarling something behind the tape. Torn inside by the rebuff, wishing to the depths of his soul that it didn’t have to be this way, Stuart nonetheless lay down beside the man and propped his head to the side so that his ear was facing him.
Confusion flashed across Earl’s face, followed by cold disgust. Stuart heard him bite out a rebuff behind the tape. He thinks I’m going to sexually assault him, Stuart realized, anguish tugging at his soul.
Instead, Stuart was going to do something far worse. He was going to take his entire body—not just his sexual organs—and use them for his own whims, for as long as he wanted. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, a dying part of Stuart whimpered. It’s supposed to be a bond, a link between friends… That instinctive urge of the suzait to seek out a sympathetic host and create a mutually beneficial symbiosis was the same one that was now making him detest his very existence.
“I’m sorry,” Stuart whispered, taking the man’s struggling head and holding it steady. “I wish I didn’t…” Didn’t what? his conscience demanded. Didn’t have to do this? Stuart knew better than anyone that he didn’t have to burrow into this man’s brain. He didn’t have to ruin this man’s life, too. All he had to do was have the courage to resign himself to a bone saw and a little glass jar.
Shame hot in his awareness, Stuart leaned down, until they were almost mouth-to-mouth. Beneath him, the man began to curse and attempted to twist away. Holding him steady, Stuart gave him a weak jolt, just enough to startle him, then gathered himself up and lunged out of his host.
Sudden, skin-cracking dryness assailed his senses. That, and light. It was everywhere and nowhere, and once again, Stuart was blind and deaf to everything except the horrible reverberations as his new host stiffened, then began to thrash. He climbed deeper into what he hoped was the sinuses, seeking refuge in the man’s head. As he did, he felt the man begin to scream through his taped lips.
Reaching his insertion point, Stuart flexed his teeth and began to burrow, making sure to avoid as much damage as possible. He had the leisure, this time, since his host could neither call for help nor try to remove him, and he did everything he could to ease into a host that was never meant to accommodate a suzait’s thin form. Earl continued to scream until Stuart finally reached his objective and shut off his vocal cords.
As Stuart installed himself, his host’s struggles slowed until they finally stopped with Stuart’s appropriation of his motor skills. Like a caged animal, his new host began to thrash at the insides of his own mind, a feral rage completely devoid of panic. Rabbit had made a good choice, then, Stuart realized, relieved. The psychotic rage was typical of a good number of the truly evil men that Stuart had inhabited—not at all like the terrified panic of the innocent Utopian soldier. Stuart sent a mental apology to his last host, wishing that transfer hadn’t been necessary.
At least it had been quick.
Successfully embedded, Stuart took a moment to forcibly calm himself. Never before had he switched hosts in such rapid succession, and his anxiety levels were such that he was having trouble controlling the beast he now rode.
You’re fine, Stuart thought. An easy transfer. Won’t have to do that again for—
Stuart froze when he realized that his discarded host was getting to his feet.
With only a day under Stuart’s control, Corporal Koff was almost fully in command of his body once more. He wavered a little as he stood there, but there was no mistaking the look of hate on his face.
“So you’re in his body now, is that it?” Koff’s voice was a little slurry, probably from the damage Stuart had done on entry.
Panic began to claw at Stuart’s chest. Ever since having his host die on him because of his own ca
relessness, Stuart had taken great pains to make sure his hosts sustained as little damage as possible. Now, confronted with his angry former host, Stuart was beginning to realize his mistake. He tried to force his host’s arms free, fighting the bonds that had kept Earl helpless not moments before.
Koff walked up to Stuart and pushed his new host’s head to the floor with a booted foot. Blood ran out of his nose onto the plastic.
“That’s what I thought.” He squatted in front of Stuart and peered into his eyes. “What, did you think I’d die after what you did? You thought I’d be some lifeless blob? No-sir. Not Pete Koff. I was fightin’ you the whole time. I was awake and fightin’ it. Finally forced you out, didn’t I?” He reached forward and ripped the duct tape off of Stuart’s mouth, taking beard hair with it.
“Please,” Stuart said. “I never wanted to hurt you.” It came out as a slurry of half-formed words, but somehow Pete Koff understood it.
“You burrowed into my brain. You got me blacklisted with the Utopia. And I was about to make sergeant.” Koff groaned and sat back onto his haunches, wincing and holding his side. “Oh God. I think something’s broken.”
Never before had Stuart been forced to confront those he had taken to host, and as he looked into Koff’s disgusted eyes, self-loathing embedded itself deeper into his soul. “They’ve got vid, back on the ship,” Stuart babbled. “They know it wasn’t you. You won’t be held responsible.”
Pete scrunched his face in pained disgust. “Then you don’t know the Utopia.”
In his cowardice, Stuart bit his lip, praying Rabbit would return.
Koff seemed to read his mind. “Your friend should be back here soon.” He languidly leaned forward and tugged the combat knife from its sheath on Earl’s belt and held it in his hands, frowning at the blade.
Stuart swallowed hard.
“How many people’s lives have you wrecked in your existence?” Pete Koff asked thoughtfully. He twisted the blade so that its honed silver edge caught the light. When Stuart didn’t answer, Koff shoved the knife against his host’s throat and waited.