Chapter 7 Chapter 5 No Consolation

"Hi, hello, Rover! Please sit down and relax!" I hesitated at the door of the consultant's office, stepped in with one foot, and stayed outside with the other. She smiled, but moved the corners of her mouth quietly.Reading facial expressions is much easier now, and months of exposure have familiarized me with small muscle twitches and shifts.I could see that the counselor was amused by my reluctance, and at the same time, I could sense her frustration that I was still not willing to come to her for counseling. With a soft sigh of resignation, I entered the brightly colored room and took my usual seat—the floppy red chair furthest from where she sat.

She pouted. To avoid her gaze, I looked out of the open window and watched the clouds move swiftly across the sun.The smell of salty sea water is faintly felt, blowing in gently with the wind. "So, Wanderer, it's been a while since you last visited me." I met her eyes with guilt: "I did leave a message about the last appointment. I have a student who took up some of my time." "Yes, I know." She smiled slightly again, "I received your message." For an older woman, she was attractive, and that fits human judgement.She keeps her hair a natural gray—soft, closer to white than silver—and she has it long, pulled back in a ponytail.Her eyes are a funny green, the color I've never seen anyone else have.

"I'm sorry," I said, as she seemed to be waiting for my answer. "It's okay, I understand, it's been difficult for you to be here, how much you wish it was redundant. It's never been necessary before this, and it scares you." I stared down at the wooden floor: "Yes, consultant." "I remember I told you to call me Cathy." "Yes Cathy." She laughed easily. "You're not used to human names, are you, Wanderer?" "It's not fitting in, and to be honest, it's kind of like a surrender." I looked up and saw her nodding slowly and said, "Well, I can understand why you feel that way."

I swallowed loudly when she said that, and stared at the ground again. "Let's talk about something lighter for a while," Cathy suggested. "Do you still like your job?" "I like it." It's really lighthearted, "I've started a new term. I don't know if it's going to be tiresome, repeating the same material, but so far it hasn't, and having a new audience makes the story fresh again Woke up." "I heard from Curt that he spoke very highly of you. He said that your class is one of the most sought after in the university."

My cheeks burned a little at this comment: "It's a pleasure to hear him say that, how is your partner?" "Curt is great, thank you. Our hosts are in good shape for their age. We'll have many more years like this, I think." I'm curious if she'll stay in this world, if she'll stay in another host when the time comes, or if she'll choose to leave, but I don't want to ask anything that might turn our conversation into a more difficult topic The problem. "I like teaching," I said instead, "and it's somehow related to my career on Eyegrass, so it makes it a little easier than other things I'm not familiar with. Invite me and owe him a favor."

"They were very lucky to invite you." Cathy smiled enthusiastically. "Do you know how rare it is for a history professor to experience even two planets in all courses? However, you are almost have lived their primordial lifespans on the planets, and on the Progenitor Planet, from the very beginning! There is no school on this planet that doesn't want to poach you from us. Curt tries to keep you busy so that You don’t have time to think about changing places.” "Professor emeritus," I corrected. Cathy smiled, then took a deep breath, and her smile disappeared: "You haven't been here for so long, I've been wondering if your problem solved itself. But at that moment , it suddenly occurred to me that maybe the reason you didn't come was just because the situation got worse."

I stared at my hands and said nothing. My hands are light brown - a sun tan that doesn't go away whether I'm in the sun or not, and I have a dark spot just above my left wrist.My nails are cut short and I don't like the look of long nails.When they accidentally scratch the skin, it feels very uncomfortable.And my fingers are thin and long - the extra length of the long nails makes them look weird, even to humans. After a while, she cleared her throat: "I guess my instinct is right." "Cathy," I prevaricate, saying her name slowly, "why do you keep your human name? Does it make you feel more one? I mean so you can relate to yours." The host is more tacit?" I also hope to know Curt's choice, but this is such a personal question.It would be wrong to ask the answer to that question of anyone but Curt himself, not even his partner.I worried that I had been too rude, but she laughed.

"Thank goodness, no, Wanderer, didn't I tell you? Well maybe not, because my job is not to talk, but to listen. Most souls I talk to don't need as much encouragement as you do. You You know? I came to Earth before humans knew we were here, one of the first few implants. I had human neighbors on both sides, and Kurt and I had to pretend to be our hosts for a few years. Even if we settle in the immediate area, you never know when humans might show up nearby, so Cathy has completely become who I am. Also, the translation of my previous name was fourteen words long, And shortening it doesn't sound good." She smiled sweetly.The sunlight that fell through the window hit her eyes, causing silver-green light to bounce back and dance on the walls.For a moment, the emerald green pupils shone like rainbows.

I didn't know that this gentle, cozy woman was part of the front line, and it took me a while to figure it out.I stared at her, surprised, with a feeling of greater respect.I've never taken counselors seriously—never before, never had to.They are for people who are struggling, people who are wimpy, shame on me here.Knowing Cathy's history made it less awkward for me to be with her, she understands toughness. "Does it bother you?" I asked, "Pretending to be one of them?" "No, it's not. You see, there's a lot to get used to with this host—so many new things. Sensory overload, at first all I could cope with was conformity."

"And Curt, you choose to live with your host's spouse? After this is over?" The question was more straightforward, and Cathy caught the implication immediately.She changed her position in the seat, pulled her legs up, and sat down on her knees.She stared thoughtfully at a dot above my head, and at the same time replied: "Yes, I chose Curt - and he chose me. At first, of course, it was just random, it was the task. We naturally We are closely connected because of spending so much time together and sharing the dangers of our mission. As university president, Curt has many contacts, you know. Our house is an implanted institution, and we often host entertainment It just needs to be very quick, very quiet—you know how violent these hosts are. Every day, we know we could die at any moment. There's constant excitement, and frequent fear."

"These are good reasons why Curt and I may have developed an attachment to each other, why we decided to live together after we no longer needed to hide our identities. And I can lie to you and assuage your fears, Tell you that's the real reason, but" She shook her head, and then seemed to sit more casually in her seat, her eyes fixed on me, "For so long in history, human beings have never figured out love. How much is related to the body, how much is related to the soul? How much is accident and how much is fate? Why do seemingly perfect couples separate from each other, while couples who are impossible to combine grow old together? I don’t know the answers to these questions like them. Love is always Where it is, my host, the host of Lovecot, that love does not die when the owner of the mind changes." She looked at me, frowning slightly as I slumped back in the chair. "Melanie still grieves for Jared," she said. I feel like I'm nodding my head, even though I didn't mean to. "You grieve for him too." I close my eyes. "Still having those dreams?" "Every night," I said vaguely. "Tell me about it." Her voice was gentle and convincing. "I don't want to think about that." "I know. Try it, it might help." "So what? How does it help to tell you that I see his face every time I close my eyes? When I wake up and cry when he's not there? Those memories are so strong I can no longer tell which ones." Which are hers and which are mine?" I stopped suddenly and gritted my teeth. Cathy pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to me.I didn't move and she got up and walked over to me and put it on my lap.She sat on the arm of my chair and waited. I persisted tenaciously for half a minute, then angrily grabbed the small square and wiped my eyes. "I hate this." "Everybody cries in the first year and it's very impossible to control those emotions completely. We're all a little bit like kids, whether we want to or not. I used to cry every time I saw a beautiful sunset, try The smell of peanut butter will have the same effect." She patted my forehead, then gently twirled her fingers around the lock of hair that I usually tuck behind my ear. "Such beautiful, shiny hair," she emphasized. "Every time I see you, your hair is a little shorter. Why do you always have short hair?" Tears were already welling up in my eyes, and I didn't want to defend my dignity.As reserved as usual?Isn't it easier to accept the care of others?After all, I'm here to talk and get help -- and I might as well keep doing it. "It annoys her, she likes to have long hair." She wasn't taken aback, which I didn't expect, Kathy is good at what she does.Her reaction was a little late and a little incoherent. "You, her, her consciousness still exist?" The frightening truth came slowly from my lips: "Our history bores her when she wants to exist. When I'm at work, she'll be less active, but she's always there, okay , sometimes I feel like she exists just like me." My voice broke into a whisper before I could finish. "Rover!" Cathy exclaimed in horror, "why didn't you tell me it was that bad? How long has it been going on?" "It's getting worse, not only isn't it subsiding, she seems to be getting stronger. It's not as bad as the case the therapist said it was - we talked about Kevin, do you remember? She's not in control yet I, she won't, I won't let that happen!" My voice rose. "Of course, things like this don't happen," she reassured me. "Of course not, but if you were this unhappy, you should have told me earlier and we'd have to send you to a therapist." I was so distracted it took me a while to catch what she meant. "Therapist? You want me to run away?" "No one would despise that choice, Wanderer, and it would be understood if the Overlord was flawed." "Flawed? She's not flawed, I am, I'm too vulnerable for this world!" As the humiliation overwhelms me, I hold my head and cry, tears welling up in my eyes. Cathy put her arms around my shoulders.I held my frenzied emotions in check so tenaciously that I didn't pull away, even though the feeling was too intimate. It also upset Melanie, who didn't like being hugged by strangers. Of course Melanie's presence was more obvious at the moment, and when I finally surrendered to her power, she was unbearably smug, she was elated.It was always harder to control her when I was distracted by feelings like this. I try to calm myself down so I can put her back where she should be. You took my place, and her mind was weak but clear, and the situation had deteriorated to such an extent that now she was strong enough to speak to me at will, which was as bad as it was in the first minute of regaining consciousness. Go away, this is my place now. never. "Wanderer, dear. No, you're not cowardly, we all know that." "Humph." "Listen to me, you are strong. Surprisingly strong. Our race has always been the same, but you go above and beyond. I am astounded by how brave you are, and your many lives have been the best proof." My previous life might have been, but what about this life?Where is my power now? "But humans are more individual than we are," Cathy continued, "and varied, and some are far more powerful than others. I really think that if anyone else were implanted in this host, Melanie It only takes a few days to completely defeat it. Maybe it's just a coincidence, maybe it's fate, but it seems to me that the strongest of our species resides in the strongest of human beings." "That's not a good word for our kind, is it?" She heard something in my words: "She didn't win, Wanderer, you are the lovely person next to me now, she is just a distant shadow in the corner of your mind." "She talks to me, Cathy, and she still has her own mind, and she still keeps her secrets." "But she didn't speak for you, did she? If I were in your shoes, I doubt I could be like you." I didn't answer, I felt too bad. "I think you should consider retransplantation." "Cathy, you just said that she might completely defeat other souls. I don't know if I really believe that--you might just be trying to do your part, comfort me. If she's so strong, because I can't conquer It would be unfair for her to turn her over to someone else, who would choose to inhabit her?" "I don't say this to comfort you, dear." "Then why?" "I don't think this host would be considered for reuse." "Oh!" I shuddered all over, and I wasn't the only one who was taken aback by the notion. I was immediately disgusted, and I'm not one to give up. Having lived through the long revolution of the surrounding stars on my last planet—Eyegrass World, familiar to them here—I've been waiting.Although the implanted permanence lasted long before I thought it would, and although life on the eyegrass planet is measured in centuries on this planet, I never escaped the life cycle of my host.To do so is wasteful, wrong, and ungrateful.This is precisely what makes a mockery of who we are as souls.It is absolutely necessary that we make our world a better place, otherwise we do not deserve it. But we don't waste it.We have indeed made all that we occupy better, more peaceful, more beautiful, while man was once savage and unruly.They kill each other so often that murder becomes a fait accompli of life.The variety of tortures they have orchestrated over the millennia of history they have endured is simply intolerable to me; I cannot even bear the raw official overview.The smoke of war rages on the surface of nearly every continent, murder is sanctioned, and harm is still legal.Those who live in peaceful countries watch their fellow citizens starve to death on their doorsteps, and they do nothing.The abundance of resources on this planet is not evenly distributed.Most shameful, however, is that their offspring—the next generation, my race almost worships the hope that the next generation brings—have often fallen victim to horrific crimes, and not just at the hands of strangers. , and died at the hands of the caretakers to whom they were entrusted.This vast and immensity planet is also in jeopardy through the mistakes of their sloppiness, negligence and greed.Nobody compares the past with the present without admitting that the earth is a better place now thanks to us. You murdered the entire species and then sang the praises of yourself. My hands clenched into fists. I could have let you be disposed of.I remind her. Just do it and make me officially and legally murdered. I'm bluffing, but so is Melanie. Oh, she thought she wanted to die, after all she had jumped into the elevator shaft herself, but that was when she was panicked and scared.Sitting in a comfortable chair and thinking about it calmly will be a completely different feeling.I could feel the adrenaline rushing through her fear — rushing through my limbs as I contemplated a better-adapted body. It would be nice to be alone again, with a mind of my own, a very pleasant world, full of novelty in many ways; and how nice to be able to appreciate it without the distraction of this insignificant fellow.Furious and forced to leave, she should have been more sensible than this unwelcome delay. As I struggled to think rationally about this, Melanie writhed helplessly in the back of my brain that maybe I should just drop the words themselves terrified me.I, the wanderer, will give up?Quit halfway?Admit failure and try a cowardly and spineless host who won't cause me trouble? I shook my head, I could barely bear the thought. And it's my body, I'm used to the feeling, I love the way the muscles move over the bones, the joints flex, the tendons stretch.I knew the reflection in the mirror—the tanned skin, the high cheekbones, the auburn silky-smooth crew cut, the cloudy green-brown eyes—was me. I want to be myself, and I won't let what's mine be destroyed.