Behind the Eyes of Dreamers by Pamela Sargent

aliens, but she doubted it. The city was still too vivid an example in their minds, most likely. Most of the resisters, the determined and forceful ones, had probably died there. This crowd’s like me, she thought bitterly. We’ll get by. She noticed that some of the people appeared uneasy and realized that she was glaring at them. She looked away.
    Gabe’s heavy denimed legs were in front of her. She waved him away, but he sat down in front of her anyway.
    “You had any breakfast, Suzanne?”
    “No.”
    “You should eat. If you want, I’ll get you some.”
    “I ate last night; I don’t want anything now.” She didn’t tell him she had vomited the meal in the bathroom, kneeling on the floor and holding her hair off her face with one hand. “Thanks anyway, Gabe,” she said tonelessly. He seemed to expand visibly at that, as if taking her words as encouragement. He hovered over her like a beast of prey, his brown beard making her think of a grizzly bear. She hated him at that moment. Always sniffing around; you wanted Joel to die, you son of a bitch. She was quickly ashamed of herself. He’s just trying to help. She grew conscious of the hairy legs concealed by her dungarees, and her halitosis; one of her teeth, with no dental care, was slowly, painfully, and aromatically rotting away. She almost chuckled at the thought of Gabe, or anyone else, desiring her sexually. She folded her arms across her breasts, knobby little things, and again thought of Joel and all the ways in which she had failed him. Yet part of her still knew that regret was her justification, enjoyable for those who were seasoned to it, a way of believing that things could have been different. Give me a thousand chances, and I would be the same. That thought too had its comforting aspects. Her mind curled up inside her and continued its self-flagellation with the willows of guilt, leaving its peculiarly painful and pleasurable scars.
    Gabe jostled her elbow. Neir-let and her companion were at the doorway, but this time they brought no components, only two small leatherlike pouches. Neir-let surveyed the room, apparently waiting for everyone’s full attention; then she began to speak in her musical voice.
    “We have almost finished assembly of these tools,” she said. Suzanne straightened her back at the words. “Only one thing remains.” The alien leaned over and picked up one of the metal objects. “Each of you should select one now, and keep it with you at all times.” Suzanne reached over for the one she had handled before and watched as everyone scrambled about. No one appeared angry or relieved; they clutched the objects passively and silently, then retreated to the walls, seating themselves on the floor.
    Neir-let opened her pouch and took out a small blue gem. It winked in the light and was seemingly answered by the blue stone embedded in Neir-let’s forehead. “You will place this in the small dent you will find in one of the globes. It will adhere to the surface by itself.” Neir-let and the other Aada began to move around the room, handing a blue stone to each person. Suzanne accepted hers from Neir-let and soon found the dented globe. She pressed the stone into the dent and waited.
    The task was completed by everyone in a few minutes. Neir-let walked back to the doorway and held up her arms. “What I tell you now will be the hardest thing to do,” she said. “You must sit with these tools and wait, concentrating on them as much as you are able. You may go outside if you wish, or sit by the road. If you grow weary, rest, then try again.”
    The two Aadae left the dome. Suzanne got up and began to follow them with her device. Gabe caught her by the arm.
    “Where are you going?”
    “Outside to concentrate,” she replied. “What else can I do?”
    “Don’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were trying to turn us into a group of zombies. Forget it. Let them try to force us; there’s no way you can compel a person to