Behind the Eyes of Dreamers (10 page)

“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 that 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.”

“Ghosts?”

“Ghosts who come here in human bodies—that’s how they see us.”

Orielna shook her head. “What a strange idea.”

“I don’t find it so.”

“If they see us that way, then surely they couldn’t have harmed Josef.” She smiled a little. “After all, if he’s seen as a ghost, then they—”

“They think our bodies house spirits. If the spirit offends them, they’re capable of striking at it, since killing the body would only send the spirit back to the realm of the dead. Keep that in mind when we meet them.”

As they rounded the bend, she heard voices. Five huts stood in a clearing a few paces from the river; three lean-tos made of hides and wood sat near the huts. Six children were playing on the bank; they looked up as she and Daro approached. She thought of the way those children must have entered life—the chance combinations of genes, the gestation inside the bodies of women, the bloody and hazardous process of birth beyond the safety of an ectogenetic chamber and the guidance of the Net.

“Smile,” Daro said, “and keep your hands at your sides.”

The children ran toward the huts as Orielna and Daro entered the clearing. Five women were seated around a fire; they rose and quickly followed the children into the huts. Eight men lingered near the flames; their hands clutched spears.

“Something’s wrong,” Daro said softly. “Usually they all run out to greet me.”

“Maybe we should leave.”

“Do you want to risk a spear in your ribs? Smile. They’re more likely to strike out if they see fear.”

Two men stepped forward, still holding their spears. They wore loincloths; one had a body as stocky and hard as Daro’s, the other a tangled beard heavily streaked with gray. Daro bowed toward the gray-bearded man, and Orielna did the same, averting her eyes from his slightly withered arms and flabby belly. A woman peered out from a hut, her mouth in a grimace, and Orielna saw that she had no front teeth. The village stank with the odors of roasted meat, sweat, and a sickly-sweet smell she did not recognize. Her gorge rose; her jaw tightened, locking her smile into place.

The gray-bearded man uttered a stream of words, then sat down; his companions quickly took up positions around him. “He’ll speak to me now,” Daro said as he seated himself; Orielna settled next to him.

The men reeked of fish. Something tugged at Orielna’s hair; she tensed. A child had crept up to her and was pulling at her blond locks with one filthy hand. The boy grinned at her, then disappeared into a hut. These people had no links, no way to bring themselves into balance; they were capable of anything.

Daro spoke to the men in what sounded like a series of grunts and cries. The gray-bearded man responded, punctuating his words with wails as he shook his fist at the sky. Daro stopped smiling; the unchanged man fell silent at last.

Daro glanced at Orielna; his pupils were pinpoints in his green eyes. “It seems the eidolon was here,” he murmured. “He says the body had black hair and your dark eyes. He says Josef—the cursed specter is what he calls him—is a thief.”

Daro said more words in the villagers’ tongue, then turned toward her again. “I’ve told him that the spirit will suffer punishment, but I don’t know if he believes me. He says he doesn’t want our kind haunting his people. If he hadn’t recognized me, we would probably have been driven away. I’ll have to warn other hunters, tell them to avoid this village for a while.”

Daro reached into his pocket and took out a few jeweled trinkets; the men clawed at them greedily. The graybeard let them gather up the jewels, growled out more words, then spat.

“He’s saying,” Daro whispered, “that I can’t pay him for what he’s lost.” He stood up, helped Orielna to her feet, and led her away by the arm; her knees shook. “Don’t look back.”