Chapter 12 - Fear

With a start, Marc Walters opened his eyes. He almost immediately winced at the radiant overhead lights shining down upon him. Squinting, he was able to cut down the glare to a manageable level. He was lying on something firm yet yielding, at a shallow incline. Trying to sit up, he quickly found that his arms and legs tightly restrained. Finding he could move his head, he rotated back and forth as he took in his surroundings. He was in a small room with blue gray colored walls. There was a distinct barren feeling to the room. There was little more than the table he lay upon and nearby empty desk. Too clean, too sterile. He shuddered as he realized he must be in a Soul Healing facility.

Lying there on what he assumed was an examination table, Marc became aware of several important facts:

One, he was not dead. In fact, he felt remarkably well. Considering his last memory before waking up here was getting shot in the chest by an armor shrouded Seeker. The Souls must have healed him while he was knocked out.

Two, he was still himself. When the hallways of their home had started to fill with the Seekers' silvery sleeping gas, Marc had known the aliens were trying to capture his people alive. But he was awake and unless the Soul in him was extremely lazy, Marc's mind and body were still his own.

His first two facts led Marc to his third realization. If he had not been disposed of or had a Soul inserted, what had happened? Why had the Seekers stopped what was clearly their goal to wipe out his little band of rebels. The fact Marc and the others had survived, indeed thrived, in a city settled by the Souls had always been a metaphorical poke in the aliens' eye. Ever since their rescue mission to the Administration Building two months ago the Seekers had been tearing through the city and the surrounding country hunting for them. The Seekers tolerance, if they ever had any, of his people existence at an end.

If had not been for the help from Long Rivers and Bright Moon they would have been inevitably caught. Marc seized on the idea, Bright Moon must have been able to get the Seekers to stop. Thinking of blonde haired Seeker brought a smile to Marc's lips. It still was a marvel to Marc how only a few months ago the two of them had been bitterest of enemies. They had been through so much, their relationship growing from hate to love. Even while others of his little family still disliked the Seeker and a few openly disapproved of his relationship, Bright Moon had sworn to protect them.

As if conjured from Marc's reminiscing the door to the examination room opened, and Bright Moon on Fallen Snow marched in from the outside hall. Flanking her were two stern looking male Seekers, both of whom were a good head taller than her honey blonde hair in it's always present ponytail. They closed the door and stood guard as she approached him.

A big sigh of relief came from Marc as she stopped before him. A cautious smile worked its way onto his face, and he said, "I'd jump up and hug you, but I'm kind of tied up at the moment."

She remained silent as she gazed at him steadily. After a few seconds when the blonde had not changed her stance Marc's smile faded. "Okay, how about we start with 'Hi, how's your day going?'"

Still she did not say anything or move. Marc was finding her stare to be a little unnerving. He had seen any number of expressions on Bright Moon's face before. Calm and peaceful, not unlike many of the other Souls. Irritated and annoyed, with the emotions usually directed at him. Happy, her smile lighting up her face in delight. Grief, her heartbreaking sobs as he held her. But now her face contained something Marc had not seen before, it was neither angry nor happy. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, her blue eyes cold and distant. Marc finally settled on the best description for this new Bright Moon…Aloof.

Yes, everything in her face and body language displayed detachment and indifference to him. As if Marc was simply a slightly noteworthy bug to be cataloged and discarded without hardly a thought. Marc broke their staring contest and glanced to the two guards in the room and then back to Bright Moon. "Alright," he said slowly, "what's going on here?"

She spoke, but not to Marc. Turning to the two large Seekers at the door she said, "This was a mistake. There is nothing for me to learn from this encounter." Her words were cold and professional

She began to turn when Marc interrupted her loudly. "Bright Moon, what the hell are you playing at!? If I'm still breathing, you must have stopped the other Seekers. Made some sort of deal, brokered a truce. Why won't you talk to me?"

With her back to him, Marc heard her speak in the same dispassionate tone. "I wanted to know what type of emotional reaction this body would have to your presence."

"What the hell?" breathed Marc as his face screwed up in confusion. An icy fear began to grip his heart. Was it all a lie? Had Bright Moon carried out the greatest of deceptions on him? Carefully manipulating Marc until he had lowered his defenses and let her get in close to him and his people. Marc had always prided himself on seeing through the Seekers' lies and manipulations. Their traps had worked by giving people what they wanted to hear. Lies orchestrated to get you to trust them and then make it easy and safe for your capture and insertion.

Anger stewed in Marc's chest and the apparent betrayal. But her apparent duplicity had a flaw. Bright Moon had many opportunities to catch them all. Safely and efficiently, without calling down an entire army. Was it to gain information about Ian's and Nate's hidden enclaves? Possibly, but the occasions to do so had come and gone without a hint of treachery. Unless Bright Moon had changed her mind, gone back on her promise. Decided the Souls were right along and Humanity must be destroyed.

"Why?" It came out of his mouth as a half-sob of despair.

Bright Moon resumed her exit out of the room without answering Marc. He followed her as she moved, a gut wrenching pain in his chest. She was almost to the entrance when he saw it. Reaching for the doorknob her hand missed as if used to having a longer range. It was subtle, her movement could be almost called clumsy as if her body was unfamiliar to her. Her walk just a little too slow, the swing of her arms slightly too stiff.

If had not been for hearing Wanda's story about her body swapping Marc likely would not have put it together. For as much as he understood Souls to be the small silver creature tied to the brain of their hosts he was human and thought the body as an absolute. Not something one could change like putting on new clothes. The reality of taking the being who was Bright Moon on Fallen Snow out of woman before him and replacing it with another was not a concept Marc's human mind so readily grasped.

The door was opening and whoever was in Bright Moon's host body was almost through the opening. Even as the realization was taking hold in Marc, his mouth was already opening. One desperate final attempt. "You're not Bright Moon on Fallen Snow. Who are you?"

The person at the door stopped. This time she did turn around to face him when she spoke. "Perceptive. You are more intelligent than you appear."

Marc was more than a little surprised his last ditched effort had worked. He mentally forced his mind into gear. "I'm flattered…I think. Where's Bright Moon?"

The stranger paused, for a split second a more familiar look was on the blonde woman's face. Uncertainty. It vanished just as fast as it appeared. His worry for himself and his people momentarily thrown off, Marc experienced a strong jab of fear for the Soul named Bright Moon on Fallen Snow. "Please," he pleaded with the unknown Seeker, "is she alright? Is she safe?"

"Strange, she asked almost the same of you. I am coming to the conclusion your feelings for each other might be genuine," said the unidentified Seeker dryly.

Marc was unable to keep the alarm out of his voice, "You didn't hurt her, did you?"

"Of course not," said the nameless Seeker. Her voice was finally gaining some of Bright Moon's more familiar exasperation when speaking with Marc. "We do not harm each other. We do not punish ones who make a transgression. When one of us makes a mistake we all endeavor to help the misguided individual."

"Okay," said Marc slowly. "But…umm…you didn't answer my question."

The Seeker frowned. "Yes, I did."

"No, you didn't."

"I explained that the Soul Bright Moon on Fallen Snow is not being harmed. Your question is answered," responded the Seeker.

"I asked if she was alright," clarified Marc. "Nothing you just said leads me to believe she is."

The blonde woman cocked her head. Another familiar body movement of Bright Moon's or was the gesture part of the Human host? Marc was not sure there was a way to know. "You did this," accused the Seeker, "all the time with Bright Moon. You would argue with her over some minor point. Running your words around in circles. I don't understand why she put up with it."

Marc felt a genuine smile form. "I know, drove Bri nuts. But then she always had a good come back. Liked that about her."

"Nor did she care for your nickname for her," said the Seeker with a growing confusion on her face. "But then why…" she trailed off as it became apparent the Soul in her body was reviewing memories.

Seemingly lost in the recollection of Bright Moon's past Marc tried another question at the unknown Seeker. "Who are you?" When she did not reply Marc tried his best to shrug in his restraints. "Better than me calling, 'Hey you.'"

The Seeker blinked and then straightened. Pulling back from the door she approached him and said directly, "I am Seeker Sage of Tides."

####

Storms had passed through Chicago the previous day and rain had soaked the city. Rainwater collected by thousands of unnoticed storm drains pooled the deluge into the hidden sewage beneath the city. The water swept away to be cleaned and processed by water treatment plans far outside the city limits. In the tunnels the water had receded, but the runoff had left the sewage systems damp and slimy.

Cold, dirty water swirled around Wanda's feet as she listlessly trudged through the tunnel. She barely felt the chilly water in her soaked shoes. Having given up hours ago of trying to keep herself clean, she was now covered head to toe with muck and grime. She assumed she must smell horrible, but her nose had been assaulted by so many unpleasant odors during her time down here it was impossible for her to tell. Not that any of her companions were any better off. Their desperate trek from the Hotel Rose had left them all exhausted and filthy.

Wanda put all her meager energy into trying to keep up with the others, not daring to think about what had happened to the others at the hotel. About what had happened to Ian…'NO!' Her mental shout forcefully pushed the thought away. If she spent even a moment think about what had become of her Ian, an all-encompassing fear would find her, and she would freeze to the spot. Instead, she again focused on those in front of her.

Kate was first in line. The young woman a tight ball of tension as she had led their little party deep into the tunnels under the city. Annie followed next, holding a lightly snoring Alexis. The little girl had cried for her mother and father so hard she eventually wore herself into exhaustion. Paul, Nancy, and Greg came after the two women and child. All of them rendered mute from the shock of the attack.

Mia walked a short distance behind the others, leading Wanda and Healer Long Rivers. Neither Soul had wanted to be a part of the front group, an unspoken agreement between the two to not further trouble the Human refugees. Having the most difficulty with navigating the barely lit and confusing maze of tunnels. Slowest and the noisiest they trailed behind the others until Mia had taken pity on the two Souls and helped them catch up with the others.

"Like this," whispered Mia to Wanda and Long Rivers as she pressed her foot down against the curved surface of the tunnel's floor. She balanced for a split second, her weight held between her new step and her previous, judging if the ground would support her weight. Very useful when almost every surface in the passageway was slick from the brackish water.

"Mia, I can't do that," responded Wanda in an utterly exhausted voice. Of all the escapees, she had experienced the most trouble. She repeated slipped and fallen in this dark labyrinth. Her hands covered with cuts and bruises.

The girl was unsympathetic. "Mia smaller than you are Wanda. If I can do it, so can you."

"Perhaps I could carry you, Wanderer," came Long Rivers' weary voice from beside the struggling little blonde woman.

At the thought of being carried along like Alexis, Wanda forced her aching body to straighten. She closed her eyes tight and pulled strength from her time with Mel in the desert. She had survived that wilderness with the baking hot sun, and she would survive this underground nightmare. The faintest of smiles crossed her lips, and she blinked her eyes open. "No," she replied to the Healer, "it is alright. I've made more difficult journeys than this. I will manage."

From the front of the line, Kate called out, "The three of you shut up. I need to listen." Everyone fell silent as Kate crouched down to the floor of the tunnel. She cocked her head, her ears primed to hear even the smallest of sounds. After a few seconds of this she pushed herself back to a standing position.

"There's someone down past the next junction point. Who knows how many." Kate's words came out in a tight, angry vent of frustration.

"Mia, can you tell if they are Souls?" asked Wanda. Hoping the girl's strange ability to detect her people at a distance could tell them if the unknown party were more escapees or Seekers.

Mia focused for a moment, her eyes going distant, but then shook her head. "Too far and you're too close. You screw up my Soul radar."

"Of course they're Souls," interrupted Kate angrily. "No one else made it out of the hotel." For more than twelve hours, the nine of them had played a nerve-wracking game of cat and mouse with the Seekers. Kate and the others knew these tunnels like the back of their hand, but the Seekers had the advantage with their greater numbers. Not risking putting themselves into the maze of passageways under the city, they had sought to blockade every exit and every major junction in hopes of pinning down the fugitives.

"What are our options?" inquired Paul as he took their impromptu stop as a chance to rest by leaning against the curved wall.

Greg's answer to his father was flat with defeat. "We can head north, try and get out down by Lake Michigan. But you just know the Seekers are going to be camped out by Lakefront Trail."

Nancy spoke up, "What about the Water Tower?" asked Nancy, referring to Chicago's century-old pumping station near the center of the city.

"That's no good," came back soft Paul's reply. "Way too many Souls around there. Someone will notice us and then call the Seeker cavalry."

Annie shifted the sleeping Alexis in her arms. She had carried the child for a long time and seemed on the brink of collapsing under the weight. Seeing her struggles, Paul pushed himself away from the wall. The older man scooped up Alexis smoothly and let Annie take a minute to rest. Drained of her responsibility to the girl, Annie's slumped to the floor of the tunnel. Oblivious to the smelling water swirling around her.

"We can't stay down here," said Annie in a near croak. "We need food, water, and a little bit of soap." She weakly laughed at her last item.

Surveying the weary Humans, Long Rivers cleared his throat and asked, "M…May I make a suggestion?"

Kate eyed the Soul for a long moment. She made her one-word answer in a near growl. "What?"

Long Rivers shrank back at Kate vehemence but quickly rallied to explain. "Can we make it to Memorial Hospital? I know you had a way into the hospital at one time. The Seekers sealed it off but if you can get us close I think I could get you into the building unseen." His words were calm and confident.

Greg shot up, his voice rising in incredulity. "You want to take us where your kind systematically inserted you little buggers into Humans? Are you crazy?"

"Please," pleaded the Healer, "I can hide you there. Give you some type of sanctuary."

"How long could you possibly do that before one of the other Healers finds out?" argued Paul. "Besides the Seekers likely know about your involvement. They will be looking for you as well as us."

Long Rivers nodded wearily but continued to make his case. "Yes, that is true. But I believe you would find some of the Healers at the hospital sympathetic to your plight. Many of them remember what you did for us during the plague."

Paul's face was still skeptical. Drawn in tight lines of worry. But there was a hint of hope in his eyes. "The Seekers would not attack?"

Wanda shook her head with light exasperation. "The Seekers would never threaten a place of healing." She liked Long Rivers' idea and wanted to sway the survivors to this course of action. But Wanda got no further when Kate suddenly rounded on her, outraged.

"I think," spat Kate as she marched towards the two Souls, "it's about time you two drop the fantasy that you Souls are all kindness and peace. That when push comes to shove, your kind are just as cruel and violent as any Human!"

Coming to a stop right in front of Wanda and Long Rivers, Kate glared wordlessly at the two Souls. Both of them cowered before the angry Human. Her accusation hung in the air for long seconds, and no one said a word. Finally, Wanda, with her head bowed, responded in a soft whisper, "You are right, Kate. We…can be cruel. In the hotel I've never seen Seekers act like that...like they desired to cause pain."

"You mean you didn't want to see it," replied Kate with a hiss of quiet fury.

Wanda's body further wilt before Kate's righteous rage. "Yes," came her barely audible one-word answer.

But Wanda's acknowledgment did little to abate Kate's anger. "We should have never trusted that bitch, Bright Moon. I bet she sold us out to her pals." She paced back in forth in the narrow tunnel, her feet splashing irritably in the murky stream of water.

There was nothing Wanda, or Long Rivers could offer to calm Kate down. But Greg unexpectedly rose to defend Seeker Bright Moon. "I don't know about that, Kate. Nancy and I would not have gotten out if wasn't for Bright Moon. She jumped right out in front of a bunch of charging Seekers." Nancy nodded silently in agreement with her boyfriend.

Kate stopped pacing and turned to the couple. She blew out a fuming breath, knocking away her floppy bangs that had begun to droop as she ranted. "It was a trick," she said with a tired sigh.

"They shot her," said Nancy in a nearly toneless voice. "I saw her fall."

"More tricks," replied Kate stubbornly.

"I don't think Bright Moon sold you out," Wanda said carefully, trying to keep her voice neutral. Kate turned her reproachful eyes to the Soul but did not say anything. Wanda glanced at the other Humans as she continued. "I know you don't like Bright Moon very much. You have a lot of reasons to hate her. But she did promise to protect you. And I know she takes that pledge very seriously."

"Because all Souls are honest and good?" asked a cynically sarcastic Kate.

"No, that's not why," replied Wanda as she ignored the young woman's mockery. "She had something very bad happen to her when she was young. It changed how she saw herself, lead her to become a Seeker. Making a promise to protect someone means everything to her."

Paul frowned as he shifted Alexis's sleeping form in his arms. "But didn't Bright Moon grow up on another planet? That ice world of yours?"

"Mist World," confirmed Wanda.

"What happened to her?" asked a suddenly curious Nancy.

Wanda wavered for a moment before replying. "It's complicated…and she told me in confidence." This took Humans and even Long Rivers by surprise, it was very uncommon for Souls to keep secrets from each other.

"We're getting off the point," interjected Kate. Her anger was slowly draining away, there was little she could do with it that would be helpful. Instead, she channeled the wrecking ball of agitated energy bashing around inside her mind into getting their small band of survivors safe. "Right now we don't have many options. We can try to wait out the Seekers down here, make for Long River's hospital, or try to come up with something else."

"There is no way we can hang on long enough for the Seekers to give up," answered Paul. "They can wait us out till we're starving to death."

"Well I don't see running off to hide in a Soul hospital as any type of improvement," put in Greg.

Lost in thought while the Humans argued what to do, Wanda tasseled some of her long blonde hair. At this point, it was so matted with dirt it had lost much of its springy bounce. She was struggling, images of Ian continued to push into her mind. The last time she was with him, their final kiss, and his wordless goodbye. He had sacrificed himself to save them, to save her. If Ian was alive, if any of them were alive, they were going to be turned into hosts for Seekers. The very idea tore into her small chest as if her heart was being ripped out.

Not until Mia lightly touched her on the arm and said softly, "Don't cry Wanda," did she feel the tears running down her cheeks. Wanda blinked several times to clear her vision. Mia stood before her looking tired and more than a little scared. The girl who had endured who-knew-what terrors from the Humans of the Facility and Seekers only sought to hurt the ones she loved. What were her people turning into when the Seekers themselves became as warlike as the Humans they insisted were cruel and dangerous.

Wanda's words came out in a whisper, she was scarcely aware she was speaking out loud, "I'm getting them back."

Mia's eyes widened, surprise mixed with a touch excitement. "Yeah?"

Certainty rose in Wanda. "Yes. I going to find them and save them."

Around her, the conversations about what to do came to an abrupt stop. "Wanda, what did you say?" asked Kate.

Wanda steeled herself. What would come would not be easy. She had only the barest of an idea of an idea on how she could rescue the Humans. But she had done it before when she saved Jamie. She would find the way.

"Kate, you and the others may do as you want," announced Wanda as her voice began to grow determined. "But I am getting our people back from the Seekers."

####

"You'll forgive me, but I've never been in a female Human before," said Seeker Sage of Tides as she walked along in Bright Moon's body. Her body moved with just a hint of stiffness from its new owner. "I had grown used to moving in a male body. It takes a little while to adjust."

Following behind Sage, Marc gave a tired shrug of his shoulders. "Yeah…I can't really relate."

The Seeker stopped and turned Bright Moon's head to face him. The Seekers guarding Marc also stopped. Marc found it impossible to see Sage's use of the body before him as anything other than a hijacking. The Seeker had insisted Bright Moon was safe in a cryotank, but would not give any more details. Now Sage of Tides was leading him to see his captured people. Marc still did not know what the Seekers wanted from him, why he was awake and remained free. A gaping hole of fear had hollowed him out and he muddled senses could feel little else.

"I suppose not," replied Sage with the faintest of smiles. She resumed walking and Marc's escort of three burly male Seekers forced him to march along.

Marc's mind sought a distraction from his ongoing fright. Even if he was in control of nothing, he was going to act like flew above it all. He cleared his throat to get Sage's attention. "So how about you tell Hardrock, Coco, and Joe here," he said indicating the three Seekers guarding him, "to give me a little slack. It's not like I'm going to run off." He underscored his point by lifting his hands still in handcuffs while grinning at the Seeker.

Sage studied him shrewdly for a moment. The look was a strange mix on Bright Moon's face. An intensity Marc had seen before with Bright Moon, but something else. Something old and ancient stared at him from the silver behind those blue eyes.

"No," said Sage quietly but firmly, "you will not do this. We are not friends. You do not fool me with your jokes or your friendly smiles. You are terrified. And right now I want the truth from you. No lies or play acting."

Marc felt the bottom drop out beneath him. He gulped as Sage of Tides stared him down. His breath came faster as his heart began to hammer in his chest. Weakly he said, "What do you want from me?"

"Bright Moon on Fallen Snow," said Sage as they again began to walk along, "has presented us with a bit of a problem. By all appearances, she was a successful and diligent Seeker. A credit to her calling. But then she was discovered defending wild Humans."

"Humans, I might add," continued the Seeker as she eyed Marc questionably, "she was tasked with tracking down and capturing. At first we thought her a counterfeit Seeker. A reclaimed Human with the real Bright Moon lobotomized. But all our tests showed the Soul Bright Moon was intact and healthy in her host. This rather stunning revelation leads us to the uncomfortable truth that Bright Moon was freely helping and supporting you."

"If you're inside her body you know why she was working with us," stated Marc.

Sage of Tides made a dismissive wave of her hand. With a growing bemusement in her voice, she answered Marc. "Inside her body? You mean the host body…You seem almost willfully ignorant of what we truly are. I could no more be in the Soul Bright Moon than I could be inside a rock. I exist in her former host body. And, yes, through this body I can see her memories, know her actions. But I am not privy to the Soul known as Bright Moon on Fallen Snow's thoughts."

Sage paused, her eyes again going distant with the look of internal contemplation. "I see the decisions Bright Moon made that led to your 'alliance.' But they are irrational. Also, I don't understand why you, Marc Walters, made peace with her. Why you…" and here Sage's voice grew unsteady with emotion "why you cared for her…"

Suddenly the Seeker pushed in close to Marc, her eyes intense, the silver in them seeming to flare with intensity. "Do you love the Soul Bright Moon on Fallen Snow or just this body? Did you deceive her, manipulate her emotions to bend her to your will?"

Feeling like he had been slapped in the face Marc fought back to scream in frustration. "Why then," he bit out, "don't you just jump in my skull and find out?"

"I very well may do just that," replied the Seeker as she pulled away from Marc with a frown. "But there are two reasons I have not," she explained. "For one, I believe you would be a very resistant host. You would fight me at every turn, not something I think either one of us would enjoy." And Marc, visibly nervously, began to tremble at the idea.

With a sigh Sage of Tides said, "Which leads me to my next reason. Bright Moon insisted that you were not our enemy. She was willing to give up everything for you. So I would understand how a Human and Soul could claim they love each other. If that is even possible."

It took long moments for Sage's words to sink in. Marc found his mouth dry, he realized he was sweating profusely. Licking his lips, he asked, "What…What am I supposed to say to you? How do I even answer that?"

"I…I don't know," admitted Sage of Tides with her gaze growing confused. For a brief moment in Marc's eyes, he was standing in front of Bright Moon on Fallen Snow. But then it was gone almost as quickly as it came and the stranger Sage of Tides was back. The Seeker shook her head strongly, as if trying to force her mind clear of troubling thoughts.

Sage twisted away from Marc and they continued with a renewed pace down the hallway. Evidently unsettled by reliving memories of Bright Moon's time with Marc. As they turned the corner, they entered a corridor with a number of plain white doors with a single small square glass window. Both the door and glass looked bulky and very solid in Marc's opinion. Reinforced to withstand a great deal of damage before breaking. All the doors had massive locks on them, complicated devices dedicated to containing whatever was in the room. Everything looked completely brand new as if they had just been installed. Marc realized it was a makeshift prison.

Unexpectedly Sage began speaking again. "Here are your people, at least the ones we were able to capture."

Marc wanted to run to the cells, to see his friends, but his escorting Seekers held him fast. He could barely get the words out. "Are they alright?"

Sage of Tides spoke calmly, almost casually. "We captured many of them without issue. But some of them resisted. They are in various states of recovery." Coming to a stop before one of the white doors Sage elaborated, "This one fought viciously. He was gravely injured before he was subdued."

With his guards letting him pull away, Marc looked the thick glass to see an unmoving figure lying on a bed. It was hard to see who it was as the person was covered in thick white fabric-like material. To Marc, it looked like the washed-out cloth was subtly moving back and forth like it was slowly kneading dough. Whatever it was, encased the body from head to toe. But there was a familiar tuft of black hair sticking out at the top of the enshrouding material.

"Ian," whispered a shocked Marc.

"Yes," confirmed Sage. "Mr. O'Shea suffered extensive burns when he ignited the natural gas line in the kitchen area of your hiding space."

Marc's legs were having trouble keeping him upright as he staggered away from the white door. One of the Seekers behind him grabbed him from behind to keep him upright. Marc barely felt it from cold numbing fear consuming his body. "Ian is going to be alright, isn't he?"

"As I said, his body was severely damaged," replied Sage dispassionately. "Even our medicine has limitations." When Sage saw the stricken expression on Marc's face, her tone softened slightly. "I believe the Healers are optimistic about his recovery."

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Marc. He dreaded the answer, but he had to know.

Sage's response was mild like she was speaking about something as mundane as the weather. "None of you would be suitable hosts. Far too dangerous to any of our kind. But the information they have on your and other Human resistant cells will be invaluable. Insertions will begin as soon as the Healers have cleared them."

"No!" cried Marc. At his shout, Marc felt the Seekers holding tighten their grip. But Marc continued to struggle. "Sage, you don't need to do this! Please! If you actually see Bright Moon's memories you know we're not a threat. We stopped the plague! We stopped Adams!"

But Sage shook her head slowly, almost sadly. "The risk is too great. Even if you speak the truth, it is far too dangerous to let you continue to run amok in the city."

Anger surged in Marc. "Why the hell does your kind have to be so damn afraid of everything that isn't you!?"

"It's not fear," snapped Sage in heated response. "We provide safety…"

"The hell it isn't!" shouted Marc cutting Sage off. "If you Souls aren't running a host body, you're terrified of it. Why must you try to control everything!"

At Marc's outburst Sage actually recoiled, momentarily intimidated. But it was short lived. Her jaw tightened in her own growing anger. "I've seen the carnage you Humans can inflict. Of course, we are terrified of your people. I am protecting my kind from a grave threat."

Marc saw the rising furor in Sage's body. Saw how her hands were balled into fists, the flush in her cheeks. Just like when he first dealt with Bright Moon. Maybe Sage was not any different from Bright Moon. Maybe the woman before him, the human, still had some sort of influence. Had not some of the Souls he had met admitted to as much from their hosts? Perhaps it was impossible to know, but Marc found his rage draining away.

"You know Bright Moon said the same thing – that she wanted to protect her people," said Marc as his voice grew calm and he stopped struggling against the Seekers holding him back. "Want to know why Bright Moon and I are together? Why she sided with us?"

Sage of Tides blinked, confused by Marc sudden change of behavior. "Why?" she asked in almost a whisper.

Marc's answer was wistful, perhaps in defeat or maybe in wild optimistic hope. "Because she stopped being afraid. Because she trusted me and I trusted her. That's why you can't comprehend what she did. Because you're scared. And you can insert yourself in me and my people all you want, but you still won't understand a damn thing until you stop being afraid."

AN: Sorry for the delay. Real life issues have soaked up my time. I'm back and let's see if I can't get a few chapters kicked out.

-Walker