Behind the Eyes of Dreamers

by Pamela Sargent

  “He might risk it for an instant.” Daro pulled the stakes from the ground, then folded the tent and blanket quickly. “And consider this—there’s no one around who could reach us very soon. If we had to be rescued, it would take some time for a flyer to reach us from the wall. We have to make ourselves as invisible to him as possible.”

  “But if you think we’re in danger, that’s more reason to stay linked to the Net. The minds can’t help us if we drop out now.”

  “Listen to me!” He stood up, lifted the pack to his back, and attached the straps across his bare chest. “A lot could happen to us before help gets to us. We have to rely on ourselves now.” He took her by the arm. “Come.”

  He had already thrown dirt on the fire. They hastened away from the clearing toward a wooded hill. Daro let go of her and took out his wand as they began to climb. When they were halfway up the hill, he halted and dropped the pack next to her.

  “Stay here,” he whispered. “Keep your wand ready. Don’t shoot unless you have no choice—the beam will give you away. I’ll be back for you when I’m sure it’s safe.”

  She nodded, too frightened to speak. He crept up the hill, keeping low, and was lost among the trees. Orielna crouched behind a shrub; something snarled in the distance. The wand shook in her hand; she swallowed hard. How long had Josef been tracking them? She gripped the wand tightly, ready to shoot.

  She was stiff with tension when she saw a dark form descending the hill, and recognized Daro. He hurried toward her and picked up the pack. “Follow me,” he said softly, “but stay down.”

  He climbed in a crouch, his wand out, looking like a large beetle with the hump of the pack on his back. Orielna kept low as she climbed after him. At the top of the hill, there was a gap among the sparse trees marked by a low wall made of tree trunks.

  Daro helped her over the wall, then settled her in one corner. The space inside was small, the ground matted with dead leaves and pine needles. Daro moved around the space, staying low as he peered over the wall, then came back to her.

  “We’re lucky we found this place,” he said. “I don’t think he’s near us now, but I can’t be sure—he could be anywhere below us. Still, he can’t reach us without being seen.”

  She knelt and peered over the stacked tree trunks. Anyone approaching them would have to cross the small open space that divided the wall from the trees just below it. “What is this place?” she asked.

  “It must have been a fortress of some kind. In a battle, high ground can give you an advantage.”

  “The unchanged still fight?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You’d think that, with their lives so short as it is, they wouldn’t rush to end them that way.” She rested a hand on the wall. Now that she was safe, at least temporarily, her earlier fears seemed groundless. “He may simply want to talk to us. He couldn’t mean to harm me.”

  “Are you so certain? You know what he did to Kitte, and he’ll know you’re here to see that he atones for that.” He paused. “I should have known he was following us, I should have sensed it. You have to know when something might be tracking you here. I would have felt him watching us if I hadn’t been so distracted thinking about you.”

  “I wasn’t aware that you were.”

  “You should have left the Garden when you had the chance. I could have hunted him alone and been free of you.”

  “Daro, we could ask for help now. It doesn’t matter if Josef learns where we are—we could hold out long enough for other hunters to reach us, and then—”

  “No.”

  “They could help us find him.”

  “No!” He moved away from her. “I mean to find him myself now, and you’re so sure he’ll listen to you. He might not if you ask others to join the hunt.” He sighed. “You can still leave if you’re afraid. Touch the Net and summon a flyer—I’ll wait with you until it arrives. Go back to Aniya and leave Josef to me.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. She couldn’t tell what she feared more—returning to her sharer and admitting that she had given up the search, or leaving Daro alone to hunt the eidolon. Josef might not harm him as long as Daro was with her, but alone, Daro might not be safe. She wanted to say so, but would only anger him by implying that he could not look out for himself. “Aniya’s hoping I can reach him somehow, that he’ll return to her peaceably. I can’t let her down.”

  “Of course not,” he said mockingly. “It might make it harder for you to return to being her reflection.”

  “I know why you’re so anxious to find him. It’s a challenge to you now—you can’t bear the thought that your prey might escape. You’re embarrassed that he was able to trail you and that you didn’t—”

  “Be silent.” His fingers dug into her shoulder painfully. “You and your sharer brought me into this, and I’ll see it settled. You’ll watch from this side—I’ll guard the other. I doubt he’ll come up here, if he’s still anywhere nearby, but we might as well be prepared.” He released her.

  The Moon had risen; its green orb shimmered in the east. The tiny lights of the Hoop that ringed the Earth shone steadily. She thought of all the times she had gazed at the heavens with Aniya; how strange that the sky still looked much the same when so much inside her had changed. She gripped her wand and turned her attention to the hillside below.

  Daro left the enclosure at dawn to scout the land below, then climbed back to her. “I saw his tracks,” he said. “He went south—I followed them for a bit. It’s odd—he didn’t conceal them and kept to softer ground where he was sure to leave a trail. I can’t believe he wouldn’t have learned something about covering his tracks from that unchanged girl, so he must expect us to follow them.”

  Orielna frowned. “Maybe he was just trying to get away from us. He wouldn’t have been thinking of what tracks he was leaving if he was in a hurry.”

  “The prints showed he was moving slowly. The girl might have shown him how to set a trap. I think he may want to lead us away from the lake, which is exactly why we should head there now.” A note of contempt had crept into his voice. “When he goes back, we could be waiting for him.”

  “He might have moved from that region by now,” she said.

  “But he has no reason to do so. He didn’t see Nedeeb and probably hasn’t guessed that we know he was sighted there. All he knows is that we’re out here searching for him. He’d expect us to follow the trail if we hadn’t known he was seen at the lake.”

  She tried to imagine herself inside Josef’s mind; that had been so simple for her once. Maybe it had all become a game to him by now, with his mind as unbalanced as it was. “Then let’s go,” she said.

  They descended the hill’s eastern slope; she kept her wand in her hand as she walked. Lack of sleep would not affect them for a while; even with closed links, the molecular systems implanted in their bodies would clear the physical residues of fatigue. Eventually, however, they would have to sleep; their minds required dreams to keep in balance.

  At the bottom of the hill, the trees closed in around them. Birds chirped above them, then abruptly lapsed into silence. The darkness of the woods made her uneasy; her neck prickled.

  Daro halted and said, “Don’t move.” She wondered why she could no longer hear the birds overhead. Daro suddenly pushed her to one side and aimed his wand toward the sky. A beam shot out from a bough, catching the hunter in the chest; he toppled forward slowly. Orielna raised her wand. A flash of light blinded her—

  She was lying on her back, with something cold and sharp pressed against her throat. “Don’t open your link,” a familiar voice said. “I know it’s closed—I checked before. Told the Net I was going to meet you and give myself up after I had a chance to talk to you. I’m closed now, but don’t think you can call out for help. If I even suspect you are, you can suffer quite a lot before help reaches you.”

  Orielna opened her eyes. Josef was kneeling over her, gripping her by the hair; he held up a knife in his other hand. �
�But you won’t try to touch the Net now, will you?” he said. “You don’t want to get hurt. You wouldn’t want your friend to suffer.”

  “Daro,” she gasped. Her headache was fading; she sat up. The hunter lay on his stomach, his arms and legs bound with torn pieces of blanket. His face was turned toward her, eyes closed. Blood trickled from a wound in his head. “What have you done to him?”

  “I hit him harder than I intended when he came to. He looked quite angry before I struck him. He’s still breathing.”

  She had to open her link. But Josef would know if she did; he would see it in her eyes and expression. She could not risk it, not with Daro lying there helpless. She noticed then that Josef had disarmed them; their wands were under his belt, next to his own.

  “What do you want?” she said.

  “Why, to talk to you, of course. Isn’t that why you came after me, to persuade me to go back to Aniya? If she’d wanted me wiped or destroyed, she could have sent someone else. We’ll talk, but not here. We’ll leave this man behind.”

  “You won’t leave him there like that.”

  “He’ll come to before long, and if he needs help, he can call for it. He’ll want to hold out for a while, though—how humiliating it would be for him, letting his fellow hunters know that I was able to overcome him.”

  She would summon help. There had to be a way to do it. Whatever Josef did to her, Daro would be safe.

  “You seem very concerned for him,” Josef said. “It must have been pleasant for you, having that amusement, maybe even hoping that he might become yours. You’re probably thinking that you can alert the Net when we’re away from here. I wouldn’t try that, Orielna. He may have to call for help himself, but he’ll never forgive you for it. He’ll hate you for shaming him.”

  She stretched an arm toward Daro, then let it fall.

  “I see I guessed correctly,” Josef said. “The man must have some pride. He’ll sacrifice it to save his life if necessary, but he’ll never forgive you if you humiliate him by asking the minds to rescue him. And you couldn’t bear that, losing the only one who ever saw you as yourself. Oh, what a novel experience that must have been for you.”

  “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “But I do,” he replied. “You are like me, after all. I’m a little disappointed that you walked into my trap so easily. I thought you’d follow the tracks—not that they would have led you to anything—but I was waiting in case you didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t come this way unless you knew where I was likely to be. When I saw you, I realized you’d been heading for the lake all along.” He chuckled. “I thought you might stay up on that hill. I’m sure you would have if you’d been alone, but your hunter friend wouldn’t give up the chase so easily.”

  He was babbling, sounding completely unbalanced. His black hair hung around his face, his skin was darker, his elbows grimed with dirt; his gray pants and shirt were tattered.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  Josef laughed. “Because it amuses me. Because I have nothing to lose doing whatever I want to you.” He slipped his knife under his belt, trained his wand on her, then dragged her to her feet. “Come along.”

  “Don’t leave him here without a wand.”

  “He can always ask for help.”

  “He’s unconscious—at least wait until he comes to.”

  His wand struck the side of her head. She staggered, waiting for the pain to pass. “I could have killed him,” he said. “I will if we don’t leave now. You’d wail for help from the minds then, but I’d make sure they wouldn’t find much. A brain can be crushed—that’s all I’d have to do.” His booted foot moved closer to Daro’s head. “All he’d ever be afterward is an eidolon with a new body and painful restored memories of shame he’d probably choose to erase. You’d lose him for good.”

  Orielna struggled for breath.

  “Are you coming along quietly,” Josef said in a softer voice, “or do I have to take firmer measures? I knew she’d send you, that she’d never come herself, but that’s all right. We can talk, you and I.”

  She had loved him once, had seen herself in him. He couldn’t have killed it all. “I’ll go with you,” she said. “I won’t open my link. Just don’t hurt Daro anymore.”

  He pushed her forward, prodding her with his wand. “We don’t have far to go. The land slopes just ahead—keep going downhill and we’ll reach the lake before dark.”

  She moved on shaky legs. The dizziness she had felt after he struck her was gone, but her head still ached. Her link would soon remedy that, but she could not dull her mind enough to ignore the pain without opening herself to the Net. She would have to endure the discomfort until the damage was repaired.

  Josef might be wrong about Daro. The hunter might open his link fully, if only to dampen his pain. He would summon help for her, whatever shame that might bring to him.

  “You’ll behave yourself,” Josef said behind her, “and you’ll do as I say, or you’ll learn just how much you can be hurt before you’re repaired.”

  “I thought you wanted to talk.”

  “Oh, but I do. We’ll have a nice talk, but remember that I can find other ways to amuse myself with you—that is, if you don’t behave.”

  She had lived this before, she realized, although not exactly in this way, when trapped inside one of the fantasies Aniya employed with her linkmate Hassan. But now she was cast in Hassan’s role, which she had never played before—the victim, the one to be subdued—and could not escape simply by closing a channel.

  Perhaps Josef was so unbalanced now that nothing around him had any more substance than a fantasy. He was capable of hurting her and would expect her to fear that more than anything. She would make him believe that she was completely cowed, then find a way to escape and summon help.

  The sun was low behind them when they reached the lake. Josef led her over the rocks along the shore until they came to a lean-to of hides and wooden poles in a clearing overlooking the rocky beach.

  “This is how you live?” Orielna said.

  He jabbed her with the wand, bruising a rib. “Careful, Orielna. I don’t like your tone.”

  “I’m concerned for you, Josef. You can’t go on this way.”

  “But I can. My link will heal me, and the few unchanged people near here avoid this particular spot now. They’re afraid of me, you see.”

  They climbed up to the makeshift shelter. “Sit down,” he said, then rummaged through a pack under the lean-to. He held up a leather thong and a piece of rope. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “Don’t bind me.”

  “I don’t want you tempted to run away and go looking for that friend of yours. You were thinking of doing that.” He bound her arms, then tied her legs at the ankles.

  “He’ll come after you,” she said.

  “Perhaps. I’m curious to see what he does. He’ll be a little unbalanced when he comes to himself—he may blame you for his predicament. He might think you’ve gotten just what you deserve or that you want me now. I’m sure you told him how much we once meant to each other. He may come after me, or he may decide to forget this whole unhappy episode.”

  Her eyes stung; she closed them for a moment. “You must listen to me,” she said. “Aniya wants you back. She won’t have you wiped—she only wants you to recover.”

  “You think so?” he responded. “She’d be so repulsed by me now that erasing me would be her only alternative. She’d never be able to endure my presence again, knowing that I preferred even what I have here to her. I know what I am now—I can’t be hers again. But maybe you’ve diverged so much from her yourself that you can’t see that.”

  “Why did you kill Kitte?”

  He laughed softly as he sat down next to her. “She tried to keep me, kept babbling about how I might become her eidolon. She found me in the Garden, just inside the gate. She liked to go there—she imagined that some unchanged person might follow her out and become hers com
pletely, but she didn’t have the courage to wander far from the wall.”

  “You didn’t have to—”

  “What did I kill?” he asked. “I knew what other people were then—I’d encountered enough of them after I left our sharer. They’re nothing but the thoughts others give them, or the memories the minds feed them—they’re shells of sensations with nothing inside. Kitte was like all the others—that’s what I was thinking when my hands were around her throat. There was nothing inside her to kill, nothing that was truly hers, but that wasn’t the only reason I wrung the life from her body. I knew I was doing something that was truly mine, that the minds hadn’t put inside me.”

  “You’ve gone wrong, Josef. You can’t—”

  “I’m myself for the first time. If you’d been among other people more, you would have seen what we are. We’re nothing but puppets of the minds. They probe our thoughts and soothe us so that we never know what we are, and never truly reveal themselves to us. They know we’re too limited ever to be more. Humankind built itself a trap when the minds were created—they wanted intelligence that could grasp what few human minds could encompass. Now they give us what we want so that we’ll forget we’ve been surpassed, that nothing will ever be truly ours again.”

  “The minds give us what we choose to accept.” She thought of what Daro had told her their first night together. “There might be more for us if we had the courage to reach for it.”

  “You mean they might grant us a few more gifts if we begged for them, and then we’d lose even more of ourselves. No, Orielna—I’ll stay as I am. I won’t be Aniya’s puppet, or the Net’s. I know what I am now, and I accept it—I won’t hide from it the way the rest of you do.”

  She moved her hands, straining against the thong; her wrists were bound tightly. “Come away with me, Josef. Aniya only wants you safe—she may be content to let you live in her house without communing with her.”

  “How false! You don’t believe that. Anyway, there’s someone else here to consider besides me.”

  “That unchanged girl,” she said. “I was wondering about her. I thought she might have left you.”