Nicole and I agreed to call each other immediately when we got home. Nicole's daughter was 16, old enough to look after herself, but not old enough to be trusted alone all night.
"Are you going to be okay, with ah... all this?" I said, gesturing indiscriminately in her direction.
She had cleaned up surprisingly well.
Her shirt was slightly discoloured from the evening's activities, but nothing that couldn't pass for an awkward coffee stain.
But there was no disguising the more profound changes that had occurred to her body this night. She glowed with vigour and seduction, undeniably the same girl she was before the transformation, but subtly enhanced. She had lost weight, yet every curve on her body was accentuated. Her breasts rode full and high, a counter point to the delicious curve of her ass.
Her clothes hung off her horribly, loose in places and tight in others.
"I think I can get used to it' she said, glancing down. 'It gives me an excuse to go shopping."
She was driving home, which was reassuring given how harrowing my mornings commute had been, but I declined her offer of a ride home. I needed some time to think.
It was late and I secured an empty carriage on the last train, settling into chair near the back. The air was laden with residues and smell, but I discovered I could tune it out, much like white noise.
So. I thought, directing my attention at my Guest.
Do you have a name?
"I do."
The voice felt faint, as if exhausted.
Can you tell me what it is?
"It will be largely incomprehensible to you," my Guest warned plaintively.
A watery hissing sensation washed up my spine. I imagined the sound of the ocean receding from a pebble beach after a wave.
Saaaaarraaaaaaa it sounded like.
Sara. I am Steve. Why are you here? I thought directly.
"Simply to live." she replied.
"We can not live outside of a host for long. We must live with others to survive."
Yes, but why are you here? Earth? This planet? How did you get here?
"We are in many species on many planets across the galaxy. We live in harmony. My mother and her Host were lost when exploring your solar system. I was one of a handful of eggs that were seeded to your planet in a last act of desperation. The ship had sustained damage while in orbit above you planet and with the power plaint failing my mother ejected my brethren and I into the upper atmosphere."
There are more of you? I thought in shock.
"None that I have sensed survived. We were released to high and my brothers and sisters froze. We cannot survive this. I was fortunate to be sucked into a storm cell, which eventually washed me to earth. I hatched on your roof."
So. You were marooned. I thought.
Now that you are here, what do you intend to do?
"I must live" came the faint reply.
"I must make more."
Well that was comforting.
She gave me a brief history on our journey home and answered honestly to my mental barrage of questions.
Her species had originated from parasites on some distant world eons ago. They referred to themselves simply as 'The People'. There was no way of knowing exactly when her primeval ancestors first evolved sentience, but the nature of the relationship between parasite and host changed profoundly. The first People had evolved into masters of biochemical manipulation and forged new ways of integrating themselves more completely with their host species nervous systems, until eventually, the relationship had become purely symbiotic.
It was at this time the convention of Guest and Host had become established.
A Guest could sense viral or bacterial infection in its host and martial an appropriate biochemical response. A Guest could also sense and remove cellular imperfections that may lead to cancer, as well as actively repair or even alter a hosts cell structure to a limited degree. All of these factors are highly advantageous to the host species.
Her species had actively sought homes in other sentient creatures and was through a host's first stumbling attempts at space travel that her species had eventually been passed on to the wider galaxy.
The People's desires were simple. Simply to exist and procreate. Beyond this her species took little interest in the wider affairs of the universe other than to preserve their hosts, and therefore their own, well-being.
They were not entirely benign however, as I became increasingly aware. Their overarching imperative was survival and procreation, the cornerstone of every good survival story. However, as Sara blithely explained, the urge to procreate would continue until there were no more Hosts or Guests.
What of her promise to leave if asked, I'd wondered. It was simple enough. In those rare individuals who rejected their Guest, a biochemical marker was left behind, warding the individual from any further exposure. The rejected Guest was rescued if possible and reimplanted, but it was a common tragedy for a rejected Guest to die.
Sara faced this possibility with me, I realised, soberly. It was a high stakes game she played.
I called Nicole as soon as I got home.
"So you made it home okay?" I asked.
"Yeah Tina was asleep. Everything feels so different. And the smells, oh my god!" She said breathlessly into the phone, clearly trying to muffle her excitement.
"I'm going to have to do some fast talking with her tomorrow."
I had been thinking about the parting words from Sara.
"Look, I really don't know how to say this, but we might be contagious. We might want to consider a doctor."
I gave her a quick summary of what had happened to me and what I knew.
"Yeah I've had a similar internal discussion. " Her voice sounded deflated. "But you realise just how ridiculous this would sound. Even if they believed us the best we could hope for is a quick trip to the hospital for some very invasive surgery."
A wave of anxiety washed up from my balls. I did not want anyone performing invasive surgery on my testicles that was for sure.
"You might be right." I replied pensively. "Look let's talk about this some more at work, maybe we'll come up with an alternative".
We said goodnight and I went to bed.
I woke the next morning feeling refreshed and energized. Sara had stayed silent and in the light of day my concerns seemed trivial. I went to work.
I chose discretion over valour and drove this time, shunning human contact. The car park at the office was remarkably empty. I got a call from Nicole as I called in.
"I'm running late." she said. "I've told Tina I'm sick and I had to wait for her to go to school."
"I'd consider driving if you haven't left already."
