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as far as she could go on her own; Orlene would have to pursue it herself, when she was able. Jolie's task
was to enable Orlene to resume her quest; then the decision would be Orlene's.
The vehicle halted. They were in a bad section of the city of Kilvarough, where rundown tenements
were scheduled for demolition in favor of modern megabuildings. Thanatos led her to a grimy chamber
where a teenage girl lay sprawled asleep on a flimsy cot. "This is Vita," he said. "She is a harlot being
addicted to Spelled H. Her individual volition is almost gone; she responds merely to the voice of
authority supported by force."
Jolie was aghast. "Luna has need of such a one?"
The grinning bare teeth seemed to grin further. "There is a rationale. We did not feel free to ask any
other to undertake this task, for there is much discomfort in it, and you may avoid it also."
"No, I said I would do it, and I will," Jolie said. "But I can see that I won't enjoy it."
"True. I leave you, then, to your devices." He turned and walked back the way they had come, in a
moment fading from view. Jolie knew that he had not truly disappeared; rather, he was not visible or
memorable to anyone who did not have reason to see him, and her reason had passed. As a ghost she
could perceive him far more readily than living mortals could, but even so, it was only because he
permitted it.
She walked to the sleeping girl, dragging Orlene's soul. Prostitution and Spelled H-a combination for
disaster! She would have to do something about that immediately!
"Very well, Orlene," she said. "I will carry it at first, but it is for you I am doing this." She embraced the
soul and stepped into the body.
She felt the effect of the drug immediately. The girl was not in a natural sleep, but in a stupor. Jolie was
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not conversant with the cycle of Spelled H, for the drug had appeared centuries after her time, but she
understood that its effects varied with the dosage and the time following the dose. Once a person was
habituated to it, she depended on it to be functional; there was a certain euphoria followed by
depression, which could be abated by another dose. Properly managed, it could keep a person in the
pleasant in-between state during the waking hours. Too much made the addict hyper; not enough
brought an agony that was not merely of the body. Gaea had cured several musicians who had been
addicts, but short of direct intercession by the Incarnation of Nature, few broke free. This would require
iron willpower!
Orlene settled into the host and found the mood compatible: hellhound. Jolie, freed of the need to hold
on to Orlene constantly, got to work on Vita.
"Up, girl," Jolie said, using the host's sodden lips. "We're going to work off this high, or low, as the case
may be." She forced the limbs to move and the flaccid stomach muscles to contract.
The host groaned and sat up. Jolie felt the spinning of the senses and the pounding at the temples. This
was definitely a low! But she pressed on, making the host rise unsteadily to her feet and stagger to the
grubby toilet nook. She ran water and splashed it on the face. Vita had vomited recently, by the taste of
it, and there were bruises on her body: someone had been hitting her.
Jolie decided to go the whole route. She stripped off the dirty clothing, then stepped into the shower
cubicle. Cold water blasted down, shocking her body. She gritted her teeth and washed both body and
hair as thoroughly as possible without heat. The discomfort was more important than the cleanliness, at
the moment.
When she couldn't stand it anymore, she got out. The water cut off automatically. Shivering, she went to
stand before the pane of glass that served as a full-length mirror.
This host was nubile, with hips and breasts that would have been on the way to provocative fullness had
bad eating and bad living not interfered. The hair, too, could have been lustrous, but seemed to have
been hacked off at shoulder level and otherwise mistreated. Bruises showed on the arms and shoulders.
By the feel of it, the men this prostitute served had been urgent and rough and had not necessarily
confined their ardors to the genital region. There were no scars or punctures on arms or legs, but of
course that proved nothing; there were oral, nasal and optic variants of the drug.
The lethargy of incipient withdrawal remained. Jolie spread the bedsheet on the floor and tried exercises:
sit-ups, leg lifts, curls and stretches. The body protested, way out of shape for this, but again, the point
wasn't health but effort. Could exercise bum off the traces of the drug? She was going to try it.
Actually, this was helping Jolie, too, for she was not used to living flesh. She had been seventeen when
she died, and though that was considerably older then than it was today, she had been long out of body.
Gaea lent her body for special occasions involving their common interest, but the body of an Incarnation
was in stasis and invulnerable, not truly mortal. Vita's body was all too evidently mortal, with the
discomforts and weaknesses of mortality. Jolie had to accustom herself again to keeping the body
balanced when she stood, so that it would not fall over, and to the needs of ongoing processes.
That thought clarified one problem. She walked back to the toilet and used it. Ghosts had no natural
functions, but mortals had to be constantly aware of input and outgo, or their systems got into trouble.
Then she went to the food-storage section to find something to eat. That was a waste of time; there was
nothing. Evidently this girl ate outside.
Jolie checked next for money. There was none of that, either. Then she tested the door. Sure enough, it
was locked, and she had no key or admittance card. She was a prisoner.
She wished she had paid more attention to the nature of mortal life in the slum sections. As it was, she
had little notion how to proceed. How had this host come to such an involuntary situation?
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Jolie tried to contact Vita, but the girl's mind was satisfied to let someone else do it. The drug had dulled
her awareness, but that was only part of the story; Vita had little interest in facing reality. Perhaps that
was just as well, for now, because had she objected to Jolie's control, it would have done her no good.
The soul in charge of a host had command and could not be involuntarily displaced. Had Vita not been
in a stupor, Jolie could not have taken over.
She checked next on Orlene. The case was similar there. Jolie remained on her own; if she didn't do
something, neither of the others would. Still, there might be something to be gained here. Orlene, this is [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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