Hosts

2

Kate stood in the bedroom doorway and blinked at the sight of Jeanette smiling at her from the rocker in the su

"Look who's a sleepyhead," Jeanette said pleasantly.

"Jeanette… you're…"

"Sitting and having coffee. Want some?"

Which Jeanette was this? Friendly though she seemed, it wasn't Jeanette number one, the one she loved; and it wasn't the silent and sullen number two. Could some third personality be emerging?

"No thanks. My stomach doesn't feel so hot."

In fact Kate's entire body didn't feel so hot. Chilled, rather. And achy. She'd been exhausted when she returned last night and had fallen into bed almost immediately. She still felt tired. She blamed that on the weird dreams that had haunted her all night. She couldn't recall any details beyond the fact that she'd awakened several times sweaty and unsettled.

"I thought you'd be upset about last night. I didn't mean to pry, but I'm concerned. I'm more than concerned, Jeanette. I'm worried sick."

"I know you are," Jeanette said. "I was pretty angry the other night, but now I realize you're doing it out of love. But don't worry yourself, Kate. I'm fine, really I am. And I've never been happier."

"But Jeanette, you're not… you."

Jeanette smiled warmly. "Who else could I be? I know it seems confusing now, Kate, but soon you'll understand. Soon everything will be made clear."

"By whom?" Kate said, wandering over to the kitchen area.

"It will come from within." She began to laugh—a good-natured laugh without a hint of derision.

"What's so fu

"I just made a joke."

"I don't get it."

A beatific smile. "You will, Kate. You will."

Kate noticed a jar of Sanka on the kitchen counter.

"Decaf?" she said. "Since when?"

"Since today. I think I might be drinking too much caffeine. Maybe that's what happened to me yesterday. I got a little wired."

The Jeanette Kate knew could barely move until she'd had her morning coffee.

"That was a lot more than caffeine overload."

"Kate, how many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?"

"But you're not fine. Dr. Fielding told me the vector virus mutated and you and the others may be infected with it."

She went on to explain the details of Fielding's story.

Jeanette seemed blithely indifferent. "A mutation? Is that what he thinks? How interesting."

"It's not interesting, Jeanette," Kate said, restraining herself from screaming the words. "It's potentially catastrophic! How can you just sit there? If someone told me I had a mutant virus crawling around my brain I'd be on the next plane to Atlanta and the CDC!"

"Has it occurred to you that Dr. Fielding might be wrong?"

That brought Kate up short, but only for a second. "A mutation in a recombinant vector virus is so unusual, I'm certain he wouldn't have told us if he weren't one hundred percent sure."

"But wouldn't I be sick?"

You are sick, Kate thought.

"Poor Kate." Jeanette smiled sympathetically. "Getting yourself all worked up. Why not just calm down and let Dr. Fielding worry about it?"

"Well, at least he won't be worrying alone. He's called NIH; you should be hearing from them soon. And he's already working on a way to treat the new infection."

"Kill the virus?" Jeanette said. She lost her smile.

"Of course."

"Even if I'm suffering no ill effects?"

"He infected you with the virus, so he's got to eradicate it. He can't very well leave you infected."

Jeanette sat silent, staring at the wall.

Is it finally sinking in? Kate thought. She prayed Jeanette was appreciating at last how serious this was.

Finally she looked at Kate again. "Who was that other man with Dr. Fielding last night?"

The abrupt shift of subject left Kate a little dizzy. "Man? Oh, that was my younger brother Jack."

Jeanette smiled. "Your brother… not much of a family resemblance."

How would Jeanette know? She hadn't come to the door with Hold-stock. Had she been peeking through a window?

"Will he be working with Dr. Fielding?" Jeanette said.

"I don't think so."

She don't know much about Jack's talents, but she doubted they lay in virology. He might wind up helping in other ways, though. She could see now how she might need him to come between Jeanette and Holdstock.

"I'd like to meet him," Jeanette said. "Does he know about you and me?"

Kate shook her head and felt that familiar tightening in her chest whenever she considered the prospect of coming out to anyone, especially a member of her family. She'd felt it last night when Jack had said that he thought it was about time he met this Jeanette. Kate had agreed but ducked setting a time and place.

"No. And I'd rather he didn't."

"Okay. We'll just be friends then."

More proof that Jeanette was not herself. The real Jeanette would have launched into a mini-lecture. She'd been out since her teens and fervently believed the closet should be a thing of the past. Not that Jeanette didn't appreciate the risks for someone in Kate's position, especially where child custody might be an issue. But here in this big city far away from Trenton, she'd have wanted Kate to come out to her brother, or at the very least consider it.

Okay. We'll just befriends. Uh-uh. That wasn't Jeanette. Not even close.

Jeanette added, "Why not invite him over for di

"You're sure you don't have to go out?"

To another seance with your cult?

"I'd much rather meet your brother."

This third Jeanette was certainly easier to deal with than the second… but she still wasn't the real one, and Lord how Kate missed her.

"Jack's seeing a woman," Kate said. "He might want to bring her."

"Sure. I love to meet new people."

This could make for one strange evening, Kate thought. But on the positive side, she'd get to meet—what was her name? Gia. Such a warm light in her brother's eyes when he'd mentioned her. Kate wanted to meet the woman who had captured his heart.

3

Sandy felt good as he walked the West Eighties. No, check that, he felt totally fabulous. Life was da bomb. His ship was coming in. He could sense it just over the horizon, steaming his way.

Yesterday he'd been trudging door to door, store to store, dogged by a cloud of futility and a subvocal dirge droning on and on through his head about how he was attempting the impossible. Today he was bouncing along past the brownstones on the side streets and the endless variety of restaurants and shops along the avenues, gri

"Beth," he whispered. He loved her name, the sound of it, the feel of it on his lips and tongue. "Beth-Beth-Beth-Beth-Beth."

They'd made love last night. Not just sex—love. Sweet and tender.

Not just two bodies, but two people with a co

After sitting in a coffee shop where they'd talked and talked, they'd split: Beth to a workshop and Sandy to the streets—he was still on sick leave; he just had to hope he didn't run into anyone from The Light while he was pounding the pavement.

He hated to leave her but all play and no work would very definitely make Sandy a dull boy. Very dull. But he and Beth would reunite tonight for di

As for the last forty-eight hours, Sandy could draw only one conclusion: anything was possible. And all things do come to those who wait.

That didn't make the task of finding the Savior any less daunting, but today he felt sure he'd succeed. He didn't know how long it would take but if he kept plugging he'd win the respect and renown he'd dreamed of. All he had to do was be patient. Rome wasn't built in a day.

He stopped before a bar named Julio's that sported a bunch of dead plants hanging in the window. The door stood open so Sandy stepped through. The dim interior, redolent of tobacco smoke and spilled beer, was bigger than he'd expected. The short bar curved around on his left; a sign hung over the stacked rows of liquor bottles: FREE BEER TOMORROW… He smiled; he liked that. But what was with all the dead plants?