Wally

It was my fault, I suppose. I picked the thing up on Stereoptikon VI. Just scooped it into a contraband jelly jar and hid it in the left armpit of my spacesuit.

And the thing is, we weren't supposed to bring anything unauthorized on the mission, and we especially weren't supposed to bring anything unauthorized back. But I really wanted a souvenir, you know? How many chances like that does a person get? And then, I couldn't find anything good. I could've taken a rock, but what good is that? You show it to someone, and they say, "It's a rock." "Yeah," you say, "but it came from a planet a bezillion light years from earth." And they say, "Sure. I got a rock like that, too."

So when I saw this thing on a rock, I figured that was my chance. Not only was it the only thing that looked a little exotic, but it was the only time no one was watching me very closely. It was a disastrous blunder of opportunity.

What it was, was a transparent gelatinous blob. So that was a sort of jelly-jar connection right there, and I thought it must be fate. Anyway, into the jelly jar it went, and I twisted the top on real good, and that was the end of it. Until I got home.

At that point, I discovered that the jar had broken in transit, and of my gelatinous souvenir, there was nary a trace. Oh, well, I thought. Must've evaporated or been absorbed by my underwear or something. Easy come, and all that. So I shrugged my shoulders, finished unpacking, and went to bed.

And woke up suffocating. The thing was on my mouth and nose.

"Now, calm down," it said. "I'm a friend, but my species has discovered through hard experience that we have to grab our friends by the throat, as it were, so that they don't kill us before they realize what good friends we are. Other sensitive areas will do as well, but I didn't want to get too personal right away. See how considerate I am?"

"Mmffmmfmmf," I said.

"Excellent," it said. "So, you want to know my name? You can call me Wally."

"Mmmmmmmmmmph!" I screamed, as best I could.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, as well," said Wally graciously. "Let me explain what a good deal I have to offer you."

I grasped it aggressively with both hands.

"Before you try anything stupid," sighed Wally, "you should know that I have sunk some pretty sophisticated little tendrils into your skin, and you won't be able to pull me off without half your face going with me. But I think I can ease up a little now, so that we can have a more in-depth discussion."

I could feel the air getting into my lungs again.

"I'm going to be your best friend and help you thrive and prosper," Wally continued. "I'll stick right with you, and all you have to do is feed me, and I don't eat much."

"Um, what do you eat?" I asked suspiciously.

"Same as you," said Wally agreeably. "Exactly the same as you, in fact. And you don't even have to set another plate. I'll just skim a little off what you eat."

"You're a parasite," I said.

"Such an ugly word," Wally replied sadly. "I prefer to think of myself as a symbiont. I'll give you back ever so much more than I take."

"For instance?" I prompted.

"Oh, like I'll help you eat and digest," said Wally cheerfully. "The food will taste better, and it will be processed more efficiently, so you won't even notice the tiny bit that's not there."

"I don't think I like this," I protested.

"Oh, you will," Wally assured me. "You will!"

Ok, so the first phase of my parasite hosting wasn't really too bad. I didn't like it, to tell the truth. I felt a bit weak and listless, and I told Wally as much.

"Oh, you'll get used to it," it said with a verbally simulated wave of the hand.

After a while, I did. I still didn't like it, but I did get used to it. I admitted to Wally that it was right.

"Woo hoo!" chortled the parasite. "Time for Phase II!"

Whoops. "That's the last time I tell you anything," I sulked.

"Aw, don't beat yourself up," said Wally sympathetically. "I was already in Phase II. But now, I'm going on to Phase III!"

The portion of dinner that I could call my own shrank rapidly. I got weaker and weaker, but ... I did kind of get used to it.

"What phase is this?" I asked Wally one day. "Just curious."

"Seventeen," it chuckled. "Hee, hee, hee!"

Shortly after that, I began to have trouble breathing. The parasite was sucking off my oxygen, too. I didn't even bother to ask what phase that was.

Then one morning, I woke up feeling ... not so bad. I couldn't figure out what was right. But I noticed that Wally seemed to have ... loosened up a bit. When it spoke to me, it didn't sound so good.

"I, um, seem to have, um, overdone it last night," it wheezed. "A bit. Just a bit! So what I need from you is ... Well, I've already gone through everything you've eaten for the past six months, plus all your fat, so ... I've got to start on the muscle and bone."

I seized it with both hands.

"It's just temporary," Wally assured me quickly. "Just till I get over this rough spot! A little ... bailout, you might call it."

I yanked with all my remaining strength. It came off with a sad little blurt.

"You can't survive without me anymore!" it snarled. "I run all your vital systems! I'm too big to fail!"

"That may be," I replied, "but I'm ready to take that chance."

I popped it into the kitchen disposal and flicked on the switch. There was a satisfying squelching sound as Wally went down the drain.

I must admit, the recovery has been brutal. But know what? I'm getting better every day.