“Why is Melanie so quiet now?” Jamie asked me late one night. For once, he wasn’t grilling me about Spiders and Fire-Tasters. We were both tired—it had been a long day pulling carrots. The small of my back was in knots.
“It’s hard for her to talk. It takes so much more effort than it takes you and me. She doesn’t have anything she wants to say that badly.”
“What does she do all the time?”
“She listens, I think. I guess I don’t know.”
“Can you hear her now?”
“No.”
I yawned, and he was quiet. I thought he was asleep. I drifted in that direction, too.
“Do you think she’ll go away? Really gone?” Jamie suddenly whispered. His voice caught on the last word.
I was not a liar, and I don’t think I could have lied to Jamie if I were. I tried not to think about the implications of my feelings for him. Because what did it mean if the greatest love I’d ever felt in my nine lives, the first true sense of family, of maternal instinct, was for an alien life-form? I shoved the thought away.
“I don’t know,” I told him. And then, because it was true, I added, “I hope not.”
“Do you like her like you like me? Did you used to hate her, like she hated you?”
“It’s different than how I like you. And I never really hated her, not even in the beginning. I was very afraid of her, and I was angry that because of her I couldn’t be like everyone else. But I’ve always, always admired strength, and Melanie is the strongest person I’ve ever known.”
Jamie laughed. “You were afraid of her?”
“You don’t think your sister can be scary? Remember the time you went too far up the canyon, and when you came home late she ‘threw a raging hissy fit,’ according to Jared?”
He chuckled at the memory. I was pleased, having distracted him from his painful question.
I was eager to keep the peace with all my new companions in any way I could. I thought I was willing to do anything, no matter how backbreaking or smelly, but it turned out I was wrong.
“So I was thinking,” Jeb said to me one day, maybe two weeks after everyone had “calmed down.”
I was beginning to hate those words from Jeb.
“Do you remember what I was saying about you maybe teaching a little here?”
My answer was curt. “Yes.”
“Well, how ’bout it?”
I didn’t have to think it through. “No.”
My refusal sent an unexpected pang of guilt through me. I’d never refused a Calling before. It felt like a selfish thing to do. Obviously, though, this was not the same. The souls would have never asked me to do something so suicidal.
He frowned at me, scrunching his caterpillar eyebrows together. “Why not?”
“How do you think Sharon would like that?” I asked him in an even voice. It was just one example, but perhaps the most forceful.
He nodded, still frowning, acknowledging my point.
“It’s for the greater good,” he grumbled.
I snorted. “The greater good? Wouldn’t that be shooting me?”
“Wanda, that’s shortsighted,” he said, arguing with me as if my answer had been a serious attempt at persuasion. “What we have here is a very unusual opportunity for learning. It would be wasteful to squander that.”
“I really don’t think anyone wants to learn from me. I don’t mind talking to you or Jamie —”
“Doesn’t matter what they want,” Jeb insisted. “It’s what’s good for them. Like chocolate versus broccoli. Ought to know more about the universe—not to mention the new tenants of our planet.”
“How does it help them, Jeb? Do you think I know something that could destroy the souls? Turn the tide? Jeb, it’s over.”
“It’s not over while we’re still here,” he told me, grinning so I knew he was teasing me again. “I don’t expect you to turn traitor and give us some super-weapon. I just think we should know more about the world we live in.”
I flinched at the word traitor. “I couldn’t give you a weapon if I wanted to, Jeb. We don’t have some great weakness, an Achilles’ heel. No archenemies out there in space who could come to your aid, no viruses that will wipe us out and leave you standing. Sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it.” He made a fist and tapped it playfully against my arm. “You might be surprised, though. I told you it gets boring in here. People might want your stories more than you think.”
I knew Jeb would not leave it alone. Was Jeb capable of conceding defeat? I doubted it.
At mealtimes I usually sat with Jeb and Jamie, if he was not in school or busy elsewhere. Ian always sat near, though not really with us. I could not fully accept the idea of his self-appointed role as my bodyguard. It seemed too good to be true and thus, by human philosophy, clearly false.
A few days after I’d refused Jeb’s request to teach the humans “for their own good,” Doc came to sit by me during the evening meal.
Sharon remained where she was, in the corner farthest from my usual place. She was alone today, without her mother. She didn’t turn to watch Doc walking toward me. Her vivid hair was wound into a high bun, so I could see that her neck was stiff, and her shoulders were hunched, tense and unhappy. It made me want to leave at once, before Doc could say whatever he meant to say to me, so that I could not be considered in collusion with him.
But Jamie was with me, and he took my hand when he saw the familiar panicked look come into my eyes. He was developing an uncanny ability to sense when I was turning skittish. I sighed and stayed where I was. It should probably have bothered me more that I was such a slave to this child’s wishes.
“How are things?” Doc asked in a casual voice, sliding onto the counter next to me.
Ian, a few feet down from us, turned his body so it looked like he was part of the group.
I shrugged.
“We boiled soup today,” Jamie announced. “My eyes are still stinging.”
Doc held up a pair of bright red hands. “Soap.”
Jamie laughed. “You win.”
Doc gave a mocking bow from the waist, then turned to me. “Wanda, I had a question for you.…” He let the words trail off.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Well, I was wondering.… Of all the different planets you’re familiar with, which species is physically the closest to humankind?”
I blinked. “Why?”
“Just good old-fashioned biological curiosity. I guess I’ve been thinking about your Healers.… Where do they get the knowledge to cure, rather than just treat symptoms, as you said?” Doc was speaking louder than necessary, his mild voice carrying farther than usual. Several people looked up—Trudy and Geoffrey, Lily, Walter…
I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, trying to take up less space. “Those are two different questions,” I murmured.
Doc smiled and gestured with one hand for me to proceed.
Jamie squeezed my hand.
I sighed. “The Bears on the Mists Planet, probably.”
“With the claw beasts?” Jamie whispered.
I nodded.
“How are they similar?” Doc prodded.
I rolled my eyes, feeling Jeb’s direction in this, but continued. “They’re close to mammals in many ways. Fur, warm-blooded. Their blood isn’t exactly the same as yours, but it does essentially the same job. They have similar emotions, the same need for societal interaction and creative outlets —”
“Creative?” Doc leaned forward, fascinated—or feigning fascination. “How so?”
I looked at Jamie. “You know. Why don’t you tell Doc?”
“I might get it wrong.”
“You won’t.”
He looked at Doc, who nodded.
“Well, see, they have these awesome hands.” Jamie was enthusiastic almost immediately. “Sort of double-jointed—they can curl both ways.” He flexed his own fingers, as if trying to bend them backward. “One side is soft, like my palm, but the other side is like razors! They cut the ice—ice sculpting. They make cities that are all crystal castles that never melt! It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Wanda?” He turned to me for backup.
I nodded. “They see a different range of colors—the ice is full of rainbows. Their cities are a point of pride for them. They’re always trying to make them more beautiful. I knew of one Bear who we called… well, something like Glitter Weaver, but it sounds better in that language, because of the way the ice seemed to know what he wanted and shaped itself into his dreams. I met him once and saw his creations. That’s one of my most beautiful memories.”
“They dream?” Ian asked quietly.
I smiled wryly. “Not as vividly as humans.”
“How do your Healers get their knowledge about the physiology of a new species? They came to this planet prepared. I watched it start—watched the terminal patients walk out of the hospital whole.…” A frown etched a V-shaped crease into Doc’s narrow forehead. He hated the invaders, like everyone, but unlike the others, he also envied them.