DRIFTER #14: Thirst
The entity guides the boy to the river at Galilee, where talk of a coming kingdom stirs a local crowd.
DRIFTER is a series that follows a microscopic alien entity on Earth, learning about life by inhabiting the bodies of live animals, one host at a time.
The boy rode on through the day and night. The desert changed in form, but it was still a desert. Still barren. The entity watched as civilisation began to emerge from the dust ahead.
“That’s the place,” the entity said to the boy through his thoughts.
“Why am I going there?”
“To live.”
“Why?”
“Because it…” the entity paused. It didn’t know how to answer that question.
Despite this, the boy kept riding. The river grew closer.
The river.
“The river will give you food, nourishment. You are here to live and survive. With your strength you will get your revenge,” it thought.
The boy didn’t think anything in return. The entity realised this meant he was contemplating the message. Whenever the boy did not respond, it meant he was considering what was said. The boy believed those thoughts were his own.
The boy gripped the stirrups tighter. The entity knew the journey would kill the young one if it did not end soon. They maybe had fifteen, maybe thirty minutes left, it thought. Then the boy would collapse from the animal and never get back up.
The horse was beyond thirsty. It heaved as it marched on the rocky sand, but it knew they were nearer than they had ever been. The scent of the river lingered in the air. Even the entity could sense it. The horse broke into a faster trot, driven by hope of that drink.
As it reached the bank, it lowered its head before it had even come to a full stop and began lapping at the small waves. The boy slid from the horse, landing with a splash in the knee-deep water, and began to drink, handful after handful from cups made of his palms. He could not drink fast enough. The entity felt the rejuvenation of the body with every swallow. The boy drank until his belly was full. He looked over at the horse, who would not stop.
The boy sat back on the bank, his face lifted to the sun, letting the droplets dry on his chin. He rested on his elbows and watched.
In the river, a group had gathered around a preacher. He held their attention as they stood along the banks.
The boy could not make out everything he was saying, but he leaned forward, hoping to catch a word here or there.
“Kingdom.”
“Choices.”
“Now is the time.”
Nothing concrete, nothing the boy could tie meaning to. Just fragments of a message powerful enough to hold the crowd still.
“Go over there,” the entity suggested.
But the boy pushed back.
“I don’t want to.”
He was nervous. He did not want to be among strangers. His experience in the desert, where the young soldier was killed, had left an unintended shame on his conscience. The entity sensed it.
“I don’t trust myself,” the boy thought.
He believed he did not have possession of his actions, that the murder of the soldier had been involuntary. He was correct, but the entity was not prepared to explain the nature of their relationship.
“Go over there. That preacher might be saying something important,” the entity urged again.
“No,” the boy pushed back.