Behind the Eyes of Dreamers Read online

  This idea was too disturbing to entertain for long, but others must have thought it. Maybe the minds of the Net knew it to be true and kept the knowledge from humanity, as they protected people from so much else. Perhaps this was why they insisted on punishing or restraining any murderer, even though the dead could be revived. Josef might be a murderer in the truest sense; Kitte had claimed that the break inside her would never heal. Her earlier self, now lost, had no one else to speak for it.

  Aniya doesn’t care if I die, Orielna thought. She hasn’t come here because she’s guessed how final death can be; she knows that if she died, only her eidolon would live afterward. But I’m only an eidolon now. It doesn’t matter what happens to me; she’d never know the difference, and neither would I.

  Maybe I don’t want to be hers anymore.

  The notion shocked her. She quickly brought herself into balance and closed off her thoughts before falling asleep.

  The forest was filled with the songs of birds. Orielna waited until the patch of sky above was lighter, then went down the hill toward a creek. She did not have much farther to go; this stream would lead her to Daro’s home.

  The Garden was still strange to her. Aniya had no plants in her tiled courtyard, and the land around her house and hill was flat and open to the sky. Here, Orielna felt as if the trees might close in around her. How had Josef dared to come here with his link shut and no one to help him? She composed herself and began to follow the narrow waterway.

  She walked for most of the morning in a subdued trance before her link alerted her that Daro was near. As she rounded a bend in the creek, she saw a clearing just above the rocky bank. A man holding a wand was waiting outside a hut.

  “Daro,” a voice whispered through her link. Orielna approached him cautiously, then raised a hand to her lips in dismay. The hut behind him was a primitive structure of wood and grass, and Daro didn’t look like any of the images of people she had seen. He was a small, muscular man with ungroomed curly brown hair and sun-browned skin, his only clothing stained white shorts and muddy sandals. Could the minds have chosen to create such a man, or had someone with a distorted aesthetic sense selected his qualities? His body seemed too thick, his muscles too sharply defined.

  “Took you long enough to get here,” he said, his voice low and harsh. “But I was wondering if you’d get here at all.”

  She swallowed. “I was hoping you’d find me and lead me here yourself.”

  Daro shrugged. “Some people come here and get too afraid to stay, even with links and knowing they can be rescued. I don’t need the burden of a cowardly companion—I had to see if you could get here alone.”

  “Well, I have.”

  “Probably had to dull most of your thoughts to do it.”

  His face, she thought, might have been handsome if his bones were more delicate; a scowl deformed his features. His eyes were nearly as green as the leaves on the tree limbs that drooped over the grassy roof of his hut. His tanned face was smooth, but his arms and legs were covered with fine brown hairs; coarser curls grew on his chest. She repressed a shudder.

  “You’re surprised at how ugly I am,” he said. “Now you know why I didn’t show you an image.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of that.”

  “Of course you were. People get used to my appearance after a while—it doesn’t seem so strange in this context. But it does surprise some when they first see me.”

  She wondered why he didn’t have his body sculpted. Few changes would have been required—a little thinning of the bones and muscles, the removal of some of his body hair, refinement of the strong-featured face. But the man was solitary and might not care how he looked much of the time. Perhaps he even took a little pleasure in startling those who sought him out.

  She walked toward him slowly; her nose wrinkled as she smelled his sweat. “Stop right there.” He raised his wand. “I’m willing to guide you, but don’t get too close to me. You’re not used to other people anyway, so it’ll be easier if you keep your distance.”

  Orielna stepped back. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said haltingly. “My sharer has led a very quiet and removed life.”

  “You’re also like the one you seek, so we’ll both be better off if you don’t come too close to me.”

  She winced. “I’m in balance, and if Josef had been, he wouldn’t have—” She looked away. “You might have let Aniya and me know more about you, so I’d know how to behave. I’m not sure of how to act with other people. If you’d allow the Net to tell me a little more about you—”

  “I’m a hunter and I’ll help you. That’s all you need to know. Maybe you won’t be here that long. Your sharer may get lonely and summon you.”

  “Aniya’s used to being alone, and she had a new eidolon brought to her before I left, a man named Karel.” Orielna felt a pang as she thought of her sharer and the eidolon with her now. “He looks a lot like me,” she added proudly, “slender and blond, with her black eyes and—”

  “The perfect companion, no doubt.”

  She drew herself up, annoyed at his tone. “I hope your helpmind won’t be too disturbed by my presence to tend to me. If you’d rather not have me issue commands to it myself, I’m willing to let you—”

  “I have no helpmind here.”

  She gritted her teeth. He might have warned her of that earlier. How could he bear to live this way? Except for his link, he might almost have been an unchanged man.

  Daro gestured at a bundle near his feet. “I’ll pitch this tent tonight for myself. You may use the hut—the ditch behind it is the latrine. You should rest for most of the day—we’ll have to start early tomorrow.”

  He stepped aside as she entered the hut. A globe glowed on a wooden platform; shelves of supplies lined the walls and a small hide-covered bed occupied one corner. Orielna slipped off her pack and sat on the bed, glaring at the dirt floor. Maybe she should be grateful he didn’t have a helpmind; a nexus with his sullen, unpleasant manner might have been unbearable.

  She calmed herself at last and went outside. Daro had already pitched his tent. “You’ll find water in the jugs on the shelves,” he said. “I fetched it from the stream below—it’s safe to drink.”

  She sat down in front of the hut. His comment was odd; even tainted water would produce only a mild discomfort before her body recovered. Daro swatted at a fly, then seated himself. “Excuse me for mentioning this,” she said, “but I thought you hunters only stunned your game, and there’s a hide on your bed.” Her voice caught. “I can’t sleep on a dead animal’s skin.”

  Daro leaned forward. “It was a gift. If you don’t want it there, fold it up and put it on a shelf.”

  Unchanged people must have given it to him; only they would kill an animal. “I see,” she said. “I’m a little surprised that you’d want to use it.”

  “I use what I can.”

  Orielna shuddered, wondering how she would endure his company. “Have you seen Josef?” she asked. Daro shook his head. “Then where are we to look?”

  “I didn’t see him. I didn’t say he hadn’t passed this way.” His lip curled; his green eyes seemed to be mocking her. He reached into a pocket and held up a slender gold wristband. “Have you seen this before?”

  “Josef wore that kind of bracelet,” she replied. “But others must have bracelets like it.”

  “Those who come here usually don’t wear such ornaments.” He pointed to his right. “Whoever wore it was traveling east—I saw the trail. It’s a cold trail now, but we can still search to the east. If he kept moving in that direction, he might have come to a village I know.”

  “A village?” she asked, staring at his muscular arm.

  “Of the unchanged.” He was silent for a moment. “Don’t look so surprised. You knew we weren’t alone in here.”

  Orielna steadied herself. “How would they have treated him?”

  He folded his arms. “They might have welcomed him, or they might have run away from him. It de
pends on how they felt at the time.” He chuckled ominously. “If he didn’t conduct himself properly and offended them, or they saw he couldn’t protect himself, they might even have killed him, in which case your sharer’s problem is solved.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Who can tell? I speak the villagers’ language, and they’ve never harmed anyone I led there, but it is a possibility. Still, it seems unlikely.” His voice was a bit gentler; his face softened a little. “My guess is that he’s still alive and that his link would have alerted the Net if he weren’t, but I can’t be certain. He’s apparently roaming around with a completely closed link and might not have had a chance to open it before dying, in which case his body couldn’t possibly be revived now.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “I want to be sure that you know what you’re facing. He was a fool to come in here with a closed link. Only someone who knows this Garden well should risk it.”

  “He wanted to escape completely,” she said. “I doubt he was thinking of the danger, and he knows what he’ll face if he’s found.” She tried to compose herself, knowing that she would have to put herself into a deep trance that night in order to sleep. “Daro, I’m afraid. Couldn’t you look for him without me? You know the Garden, and I’d only be an impediment. I could wait here for you.”

  He shook his curly head. “He’s your responsibility, not mine. Your sharer sent you here. If you don’t stay with me until he’s found, Aniya will forfeit any claims she has to decide his fate.” He frowned. “She should have come herself instead of sending you.” He stood up and lifted the tent flap. “Get some rest. We’ll go to that village tomorrow.”

  Daro was up when she left the hut. He sat by his tent, eyes closed, arms resting on his folded legs, apparently listening to someone through his link. Orielna fidgeted; he opened his eyes.

  “Don’t let me interrupt you,” she said stiffly.

  “You didn’t interrupt anything.”

  “I suppose you must have been communicating with your linkmate.”

  He said, “I have no linkmate.”

  “How unusual.”

  “I never had the desire for one,” he said. “I don’t care to reveal so much of myself to a person I’m not likely to meet.”

  “But that’s the point,” she said. No helpmind, no linkmate—she had never heard of anyone quite like this man. A person as solitary as Daro would need a linkmate even more than others in order to share the thoughts, feelings, and fantasies he could not reveal to most people. Knowing that one would never meet one’s linkmate in the flesh made such revelations possible; anything could be confessed to a linkmate. Such a bond was a special one and kept a person’s more troubling thoughts apart from the rest of his life.

  Aniya’s linkmate was a man named Hassan. He had courted her through his link when Aniya had no eidolons, presenting the image of a dark-haired man with warm brown eyes to her. His actual appearance did not matter; the image pleased Aniya, and she had found it easy to share her hidden desires with him. The simulated experiences they summoned through their links were often violent ones, and Hassan was content to be dominated and subdued. It was a perfect bond, and Orielna loved Hassan as much as her sharer did; her memories of Hassan’s courtship were as vivid as Aniya’s. Orielna suddenly wanted to reach out to Hassan, which surprised her; Aniya did not wish to commune with her linkmate until Josef was found.

  I’m beginning to diverge, she thought. She had known that was a possibility when she left Aniya’s side. No, she told herself firmly. She only wanted to touch something familiar; if Aniya were here in her place, she would feel the same way.

  “Actually,” Daro said, “I was listening to some of the minds.” She forced her attention back to him. “So few people really communicate with them.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked. “People couldn’t get through a day without addressing the Net at some point.”

  “They ask for amusements, or new games, or for little tidbits of information that might enliven a gathering, or for synthetic experiences they wouldn’t care to have in real life.” His scowl had returned. “The Net could open a world of ideas to us—they’ve probably even gone beyond what people themselves once knew, but I don’t suppose you have the slightest curiosity about that.”

  “If they can do the thinking better than we can, there’s little reason for me to be curious. It’s enough to know that they’ll care for us.” She opened her link a little more, sensing the invisible tendrils that bound her to the Net. The minds were a web of unseen strands, linking the tiny nodes of the mentalities that resided in scanners, dwellings, machines, and people. The link inside her was the center of its own network, one that repaired her damaged cells, attacked viral invaders, healed genetic breaks, strengthened failing arteries and nerves, and drew on endorphins to keep her in balance. The Net of minds maintained her world and the Hoop of Habitats.

  Thinking of the Net always comforted Orielna; the minds were her protectors. Yet Josef had closed his link, severing the strand that bound him to the Net. He could not survive that way for long. She had rarely closed her channels completely, and then only when she was near a scanner or a nexus that could watch her and keep her safe. Josef would have to open his link soon, and then she would find him.

  “Why did Josef kill that woman?” Daro asked.

  The question startled her. “But you know why. Aniya allowed you to experience the entire incident.”

  “I saw it only from Kitte’s perspective. I want to know what you think.”

  “Kitte was trying to keep him. She’d ordered her helpmind to lock him inside her dwelling with her, and she’d closed her link. He had no way to override her command, so he attacked her out of desperation. In a way, he had no choice.”

  Daro arched his brows. “No choice? He might have waited. I doubt she would have kept him locked inside forever. He could have soothed her and gone along with her, then made his escape later. It’s interesting that you say he had no choice.”

  “He was frightened. Kitte was babbling about making him her eidolon—she must have seemed overwhelming. He was trapped, with no way out. He wouldn’t have attacked her if she’d just left him an escape.”

  “Interesting response,” Daro said. “You’re telling me that the only ways he could react were either to run and hide or to attack anything he saw as a threat. He couldn’t find another way to handle it.”

  “He’s not used to other people.”

  “You mean he’s terrified of anything he can’t control, anything that isn’t subject to his will.”

  “Yes.” She thought of Aniya, surrounded by the house that enclosed her courtyard, safe from anything that might disturb her life. “I can’t see what good talking about this will do.”

  “I’ve learned something about both him and you.” Daro rose and slipped his powerful arms through the straps of his pack. “We’ll reach the village by this afternoon, provided you can keep up with me. If they’ve seen Josef, they may be able to tell us where he’s headed. He might even be in that village now.”

  “I hope so,” she said.

  Daro’s mouth twisted. “I hope not. If he is, we may have trouble extricating him.”

  He led her away from the clearing. She kept a few paces behind him, mindful of his warning not to get too close. The morning air was cool; they had soon left the creek behind, but thick bushes and tangled roots slowed their pace. The hunter studied the ground and scanned the forest as he walked; she realized that he was not relying on his link to guide him.

  Gradually, she grew aware of how isolated they were, even with their links. In the world outside the wall, the minds had sensors in every city, dwelling, and vehicle. Every step that took her farther from the wall increased her vulnerability; if she was injured, some time might pass before help could reach her. The minds would be perceiving only what she and Daro saw; there were no sensors among the trees to warn them of danger.

  She was now sure t
hat Aniya would not have Josef wiped when he was found; she would keep him with her, however unhappy he became. Orielna pitied Josef for a moment and could almost imagine herself in his place—alone, frightened of what lay around him, desperate to escape the sharer who would imprison him.

  She had fallen behind; Daro gestured at her impatiently. She adjusted her pack and pressed on. They might not find Josef at all. If he kept his link closed, they would have to search the Garden for some time. I’d have to stay here, she thought; the possibility made her catch her breath.

  She gazed at Daro’s brown arms; his muscles tightened as he pushed a tree limb aside. She wondered what it would be like to link with him, what kinds of feelings and memories he might share with her.

  She should not be thinking of that, having nothing to offer him except a mind that was a hollow shell made up of Aniya’s thoughts. The separation from her sharer was unbalancing her; she had never seen herself that way before. How could she think of growing closer to Daro? Aniya would have been repelled by his strangeness, his difference from herself.

  No, she thought; if I’m feeling this, then Aniya would have felt the same thing. I can’t be diverging, not yet.

  Daro halted and looked back. The hunter would see only Aniya in her, and he already despised her sharer. He would recall what Josef had done and think she was capable of similar deeds. Kitte had called her a shadow. She dulled her thoughts and followed the man.

  They reached a river by noon. Orielna kept behind Daro along the bank, then noticed that a few plants had been cut at or trampled. A twig cracked; she started.

  Daro stopped and turned toward her. “Someone was watching us,” he said. “The villagers will know we’re coming now—they’re just beyond that bend ahead. Don’t speak unless I address you, and do exactly as I do.” He paused. “They’ll be getting ready to greet two more ghosts.”