True North
By Laura Schiller
Crossover: The Host/Les Miserables
Copyright: Stephenie Meyer/Public Domain
Seeker North Star was driving too fast.
It was unlike a soul to go over the speed limit, but he was new to this body, unused to the crowded conditions of an Earth highway as opposed to the vast plains of the Ice Planet, where he could run as fast as he pleased. Besides, his human host had been a thrill-seeker, and certain habits lingered – like walking on the edges of rooftops, for example, or getting into arguments.
His Comforter worried that becoming a Seeker would only exacerbate those tendencies. His supervisor, however, believed that they made him the perfect candidate for chasing wild humans.
He was definitely over the limit when the humans he was chasing decided to go out with a bang – literally. They swerved their car in the middle of the road, crashing into him with the force of a rampaging claw-beast.
Smoke, explosions, the smell of burned rubber and the screech of broken metal filled the air. The clouds whirled above him.
At least I'm wearing my seatbelt, he thought, nonsensically.
Then he lost consciousness.
"Your car flipped over," a young Healer told him afterwards, wide-eyed with awe, as North Star lay in a hospital bed. "You were trapped inside it. It was about to crush you. Everyone was afraid to go near, because of the fumes and sparks coming from the engine. But this one soul saved you. He held up that car all by himself, on his shoulders, long enough for the rest of us to free you from your seatbelt and pull you out. It was unbelievable."
"My targets?" North Star asked.
"Fully healed and inserted." The Healer beamed. "All because you didn't give up. You're a credit to your calling, Seeker, although I really should caution you against such dangerous tactics in the future."
North Star glowed with a pride as fierce as his last body's after a successful hunt.
"The soul who saved me … is he still there? Do you know his name?"
But he could guess. His old friend always had a habit of requesting the strongest bodies he could find.
The Healer moved aside, and North Star could see a man standing in the corner of the room. He was big and broad-shouldered, wearing a light gray windbreaker the same color as a Bear's fur. His curly salt-and-pepper hair needed a cut; it came close to falling into his eyes. He had a presence that seemed to fill up the entire room in spite, or because, of his tranquillity.
"It is you, North Star, isn't it? The Healers found your ID."
He looked like a stranger, but North Star knew him at once.
"I go by Jean Valjean here," he said, smiling, "But you knew me as - "
"Bears Heavy Burdens. You found me."
"We always find each other, remember?" Bears Heavy Burdens came over to perch on the too-small plastic chair provided by the Healer. He shook his curly head and frowned.
"In a crashed car, of all places. I've never been so scared in all my lives."
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. You're proud of yourself. You think as long as you find your target, nothing else matters."
But the way he squeezed North Star's hand tells a different story. It says, I'm so happy to see you. I never want to lose you again.
North Star agreed, and squeezed back.
/
One Year Later
Paris Catacombs
"You found me," said Jean Valjean, and his tone was defeated, as if that was the last thing he wanted.
"We always find each other," said North Star bitterly, glaring up at him from the corner of his prison cell. "You should know that by now."
When Jean disappeared, North Star's universe collapsed around him. He pictured his friend drowned in the Seine, killed and dissected by wild humans, taken over by a resistant host and dragged off to who-knows-where … he imagined anything except the truth.
The truth being that Jean betrayed him to join the humans.
"Are you here to kill me?"
"No."
"Going to leave it to that bloodthirsty little boy who calls himself your leader, then?"
Jean's shoulders slumped. He looked exhausted, as if just being near North Star were draining him. "Enjolras is a good man. And no."
"Then what? You can't keep me locked up forever. My colleagues will be searching for me."
"Your colleagues have given up on you, North Star. You were always too impulsive for them. They must have, or you'd never have come here all by yourself."
Jean's voice was compassionate as he said this. It was that very compassion, along with the truth of his words, that enraged North Star. He tore at the chain leading from his cuffed hands to the floor, a nineteent-century relic that was nonetheless solidly built.
"Why did you follow me?" Jean slid down along the wall opposite him to sit on the cold stone floor. "Why couldn't you just forget me like all the others?"
"Because I couldn't sleep until I knew what had happened to you!"
"Well." Jean let out a sardonic little laugh. "Now you know."
"And I wish I didn't! I wish you'd walked away from that car crash and let me die there. Better that than knowing one of our own kind could be a traitor."
"I'm not ashamed of what I've done." For the first time, something like anger flickered across Jean's face. "Don't you see? Honesty. Courtesy. Kindness. All those virtues our people extend only to each other, while treating every other species as livestock to be used. Don't you see how wrong that is?"
"Livestock?" North Star snarled. "They're worse than that. They're monsters! My host saw things that would give you nightmares for the rest of your lives!"
Inspector Javert had been a police officer. One of his cases had involved a married couple named Thenardier who had abused their children, forced their older daughter into being an accomplice to their crimes, and abandoned several babies on the streets. The sight of a frozen little corpse found in a Dumpster had been enough to make even an experienced officer feel sick.
North Star had been warned that adult host bodies could resist their souls, but that had never happened. If anything, he got the sense that Javert would have approved of the work he was doing: bringing order to a world in chaos.
Jean looked horrified, as well he might.
"My friend, you never told me! All those times you said you didn't sleep well - "
"I don't want your pity! You're the one living under the same roof with these creatures. You disgust me."
"They're not all alike, don't you understand? They're not uniform like us. Every human is unique and irreplaceable. I'm sure some of them really are monsters – but the ones I've met are my friends, and I won't see them harmed."
"Well, I won't allow your friends to pose a risk to our people. If you let me go, I promise you, I will come back with an army of Seekers."
North Star wondered if his own face looked half as grim and implacable as Jean's. The flickering lamp that lit the cell, connected to fraying wires and powered by an old generator, caught the many white strands in Jean's curly hair.
"Then we're at a stalemate, aren't we? Unless … " A painfully intense hope lit up Jean's silver eyes. He pulled something out of his coat pocket – a spray can of Sleep, such as Seekers or Healers used to knock their subjects out prior to insertion.
North Star felt colder than he ever had on the Ice Planet. Jean was going to leave him for the humans to dissect.
By the First Mother, he's going to kill me after all.
He lunged for the can, handcuffs and all, but Jean was quicker, and sprayed him full in the face.
/
500 Lightyears Later
The Ice Planet
North Star woke up to the light of three moons. A force field crackled, letting in the light while keeping out a blizzard of blue-white snow.
He held up his hand in front of his face, and found that he had six fingers, with ice-cutting blades on one side and soft pads on the other. He blinked, and the white walls around him began to sparkle with colors his human eyes could never have perceived.
"Easy." The deep tones, more vibration than sound, were spoken in a long-forgotten language. "Don't try to move too fast."
The speaker had gray fur, black eyes with double lids, and sharp claws like his.
It was a Bear, and so was North Star. This was the Ice Planet.
"How did I get here? Where is - " His new mouth couldn't pronounce Jean. "What is happening?"
The Healer – judging by the blue streaks dyed into its fur, it must be a Healer; color-coding by profession was a rule extended to as many planets as possible – consulted a file on the screen above North Star's bed.
"I understand that you're disoriented," it said kindly. "It appears there's been an error. Your cryopod wasn't registered for the journey here. Someone must have smuggled it onto the transport … although I have no idea why anyone would do that."
Someone smuggled my cryopod …
Now he understood.
Bears could neither laugh nor cry the way humans could, but he let out a roar that made the Healer leap back and the force field window shimmer.
That impossible soul. He saved me again, and I'll never be able to thank him.
