All round, hosts were rejecting their symbiotes. The Earth was rejecting the Bugs. The faeries were taunting the invaders, the ghosts were haunting them; even the Things were fighting off the aliens. Nobody wanted them there anymore. Nobody wanted a creature in its head. Nobody wanted the bugs on their planet.
Nobody, it seemed, except Josh.
^*^They are rej^*^ecting their riders,*^* his symbiote whispered in his mind. ^*^They are kil^*^ling them.^*^ The simple statement came with layers of meaning: We didn’t know they could do that. No race has ever rejected us before. Are you going to reject me? Are you going to kill me.
“They are,” Josh muttered. He was staring at the fence penning them in, holding the hosts close to one another. “They’ve never been alone. They don’t know what it’s like to be left alone with the voices.”
^*^I am a voice,^*^ the symbiote pointed out quietly. ^*^And you do not mind me?^*^
“I don’t mind you. Look, we could get out this way.”
^*^Out? Why Out? This is where the Home is.^*^ The concept for Home in the symbiote’s mind seemed to consist in part of the-family-I-keep-around-me and in part the-place-where-I-sleep.
“Home is… humans have a saying, okay? ‘Home is where the heart is.’ I don’t like this place and, besides, the bugs are losing. Eventually, the humans are going to swarm this place. And they’re already figuring out forced separations.”
^*^I do not want^*^*^ to be sep^*^arated.^*^
“Me neither, buddy. You’re the only voice in here that makes sense.” And, besides, since the symbiote had taken up residence, the other voices had gotten a lot quieter. “And you don’t think I’m crazy.”
^*^You make more sense than most hu^*^mans.^*^ The symbiote fell quiet for a moment. ^*^Not here. Down there. There the fence is thin^*^ner.^*^
“Got it.” Humming to himself, Josh went about making his escape.
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