Shadows

 

 

The sun hid its face behind the clouds, a gray layered curtain which hung close to the Earth. Defeated, the city’s inhabitants trudged along the highway, crowding the four lanes. Suzanne Molitieri could hear the droning of murmurs punctuated by an occasional wail. Don’t look back. She kept her eyes resolutely focused on the asphalt at her feet as she walked. Her hand clutched Joel’s, both palms dry. Around her, people twisted their necks as they glanced back at the empty city.

Above them silver insects hovered, humming softly and casting faint shadows over the people below. They were passing the suburbs now and more people joined the stream, trickling down the highway entrances, creating small eddies before becoming part of the river. Herded like animals. Suzanne glanced at Joel, saw his brown eyes focused on her, and grasped his hand more tightly.

Resistance had been futile. A few invaders had been slaughtered by gunfire in Buenos Aires as they left their ship, and Buenos Aires had vanished, people and all. When the same thing happened in Canton and Washington, the will to resist had subsided. Suzanne doubted that it had completely vanished.

The Earth was an anthill to the Aadae. They had descended on it from the skies, stepping on it here and there when it was necessary. Yet Suzanne had seen an Aada in the city streets weeping over the dead burned bodies of some who had resisted. Then she and the others had been herded from the city, allowed to take nothing with them but the clothes they wore and a few personal possessions. Suzanne carried more clothes in a knapsack. She had left everything else behind; the past would be of no use to her now. Joel carried a pound of marijuana and some bottles of liquor in his knapsack; he was already planning for the future.

Suzanne adjusted the burden on her back. Around her the murmuring died and she heard only the sound of feet marching, treading the pavement with soft thuds. The conquered people moved past the rows of suburban houses which were silent witnesses to the procession.

Suzanne thought of empty turtle shells. The gunmetal gray domes surrounded her, covering the countryside in uneven rows. Groups of people huddled in front of each dome, waiting passively. She thought of burial mounds.

“How they get them up so fast?” A stocky black man standing near her was looking at a dome. He began to rub his hand across its gray surface. Suzanne could hear the sound of weeping. A plump pale woman next to Joel was whimpering, clinging to a barrel-chested man who was probably her husband.

“They took her kids away,” a voice said. Suzanne found herself facing a slender black woman with hazel eyes. The woman’s hair was coiled tightly around her head in cornrow braids. “She had six of them,” the black woman went on. “They took them all to some other domes.”

Suzanne, not knowing what to say, looked down at her feet, then back at the woman. “Did you have kids too?” she asked lamely.

“No, I always wanted to, but I’m glad now I didn’t.” The woman smiled bitterly and Suzanne felt that the subject was being dismissed. The stocky black man had wandered to the dome’s triangular entrance. “I’m Felice Harrison,” the woman muttered. “That’s my husband Oscar.” She waved at the man in the entrance.

“I’m Suzanne Molitieri.” The introduction hung in the air between them. Suzanne wanted to giggle suddenly. Felice raised her eyebrows slightly.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Suzanne, almost squeaking the words. Oscar joined his wife and placed his arm gently over her shoulders.

“This is Suzanne Molitieri,” Felice said to Oscar, and Suzanne felt reassured by the steady smile on the man’s broad face.

“I’m Joel Feldstein,” Joel said quickly, and she felt his hand close around her waist. She had almost forgotten he was there. His hand seemed as heavy as a chain, binding her to him.

Joel smiled. His too-perfect teeth seemed to glitter; his brown eyes danced. With his free hand, he brushed back a lock of thick brown hair. He’s too beautiful—I had to love him. “I guess we’re going to live in these things,” Joel continued. “I can’t figure it out, I don’t understand these people. That’s quite an admission for me; I’ve studied psychology for years. In fact, I was finishing my doctoral studies.” You haven’t been near a classroom in years. “I wanted to go into research, then marry Suzanne, give her a chance to finish school; she’s been working much too hard helping me out.” He smiled down at her regretfully. Somebody had to pay the bills. “The thing I regret most is not getting the chance to help Suzie.” She winced at the nickname. The chainlike pressure on her waist tightened. “What about you two, what did you do?”

“It hardly matters now,” Felice said dryly. Her hazel eyes and Oscar’s black ones were expressionless.

“I guess you’re right,” said Joel. “You know, I even had a couple of papers published last year—I was really proud of that—but I guess that doesn’t matter now either.” Why are you lying now?

“I was a bus driver,” said Oscar coldly. Suzanne suddenly felt that she was looking at the Harrisons across an abyss. Her mind began to clutch at words in desperation.

“What’s it like inside the dome?” she said to Oscar. The black man seemed to relax slightly.

“Just a big room, with low tables and no chairs,” Oscar answered. “Then there’s these metal stairways winding around, and some rooms without doors, and the ceiling’s glowing, don’t ask me how. No lights, just this glow.”

“Hey,” Felice muttered. The people around them had formed a line. Suzanne turned. One of the Aadae stood in front of them, holding a small metal device.

Suzanne sniffed at the air. She hadn’t realized how smelly the Aadae actually were. She watched the alien and wondered again how the military must have felt when they first saw the conquerors.

The Aada appeared human, a small female not more than five feet tall and slender, with large violet eyes and pale golden skin. Her blue-black hair, uncombed and apparently unwashed, hung to her waist. She wore a dirty pair of bikini bottoms, spotted with stains. The alien scratched her stomach, and Suzanne almost snickered.

“Give nameh, go inside,” said the Aada. She waved the metal rod she held at the dome. Then she pointed it at Joel. “Give nameh, go inside.” The Aada’s violet eyes stared past them, as if perceiving something else besides the line of people.

“Joel Feldstein.” The rod was pointed at Suzanne.

“Suzanne Molitieri.”

“Oscar Harrison.”

“Felice Harrison.” They began to move toward the dome.

“Are my children all right, please tell me, are they all right?” The plump mother of six was pleading with the alien.

“Nameh,” the Aada repeated. Suzanne looked into the alien’s violet eyes and was startled to see sadness there. The Aada’s small golden hand patted the plump woman reassuringly. “Nameh,” and the word this time seemed tinged by grief.

Puzzled, Suzanne turned away and entered the dome.

 

“You tell me,” said Joel, “how a technologically advanced culture can produce such sloppy, dirty people. I can’t get within two feet of one.” He grimaced.

“Cleanliness and technological advancement aren’t necessarily related,” said Gabe Cardozo, shifting his plump body around on the floor. “Besides, from their point of view, they might be very neat. It depends on your perspective.”

Suzanne, huddled against the wall near the doorless entrance to their room, suddenly felt dizzy. They had been drinking from one of Joel’s bottles since early that evening. She tried to focus on the wall opposite the entrance.

The room was bare of furnishings except for two mats on the floor. A small closet near the door held their possessions. There was little space to move around in and she knew they were lucky to have the room to themselves. Gabe, two domes down, was sharing his room with three other people. She had asked Joel if they could have Gabe move in with them; he was, after all, Joel’s best friend. But Joel had dismissed the idea, saying he had little enough privacy as it was. No, you have to hide, Joel, that’s it, Gabe might find out what you really are.

“What do they want, anyway?” said Joel. “They took the trouble to put up these domes, I don’t know how, moved us in, and we’ve been sitting around for three days with nothing to do.” Joel suddenly laughed. “Whoever thought an alien invasion would be so goddamn boring.”

“Well, they obviously don’t need slave labor,” Gabe said. “They put up these domes with no help and they are technologically advanced. And if they’d wanted the planet for themselves, I suppose they could have executed us. They want us for something, and they probably moved us out here so they could watch us more carefully. People could hide in the city.”

“What difference does it make?” Suzanne said loudly, irritated by Gabe’s professorial manner. “We’ll find out sooner or later; what good does it do talking about it?” She stood up, wobbling a bit on weak-kneed legs. Gabe’s walruslike moustache seemed to droop slightly; Joel shrugged his shoulders.

 

She found herself outside the room on the metal stairway, leaning forward, clutching the rail. The large room below her was empty and someone had pushed the low tables closer to the walls. She began to move down the stairs, still holding the rail. When she reached the bottom, she sat down abruptly on the floor, clutching her knees. “God,” she whispered. The floor shifted under her.

A hand was on her shoulder. Startled, she looked up into Felice’s hazel eyes. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Suzanne. “I don’t know. I think I’m going to vomit.”

“You need some air, come on.” Suzanne stumbled to her feet. Holding on to Felice, she managed to get to the triangular doorway and outside.

A cool breeze bathed her face. “You better now?” asked Felice.

“I think so.” She looked at the rows of lighted doorways in front of her. “You’re up pretty late, Felice.”

“I’m up pretty early. It’s almost morning.” Suzanne sighed and leaned against the dome. “You feel like taking a walk, honey?”

“Can we?” asked Suzanne. “Will they let us?”

“They haven’t stopped me yet. No wonder you look so bad, staying inside for three days. Come on, we can walk to the highway; do you good.”

“All right.” Her head felt clearer already. She began to walk past the rows of domes with Felice. Occasionally, shadows moved across the triangular doorways they passed, transforming themselves into loose-limbed dancing scarecrows on the path in front of Suzanne.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Suzanne muttered, expecting no answer. An apathetic calm had embraced her; her feet seemed to drag her behind them.

“Who knows, Suzanne? We wait, we find out about these Aadae chicks, what their weak points are. That’s all we can do. If we tried anything now, we got no chance. But we might later.”

They reached the highway and stopped. Felice gestured at the domes across the road. “They live in those things, too,” she said to Suzanne. “I found out yesterday. I looked inside one of their doorways. Exactly like ours.”

Suzanne looked toward the city. She could barely see the tall rectangles and spires of its skyline. To the left of the city, the early morning sky was beginning to glow. Felice clutched her arm and she noticed the Aadae for the first time. They were sitting on the highway in a semicircle, soundlessly gazing east.

“Suzanne.” She swung around and saw Gabe, his face almost white. His dark frizzy hair was a cloud around his head. “Are you all right? I followed you just to be sure; you didn’t look too well.”

“I’m fine. Where’s Joel?”

“He fell asleep. Or passed out. I’m not sure which.” Gabe looked apologetic.

She shrugged, then looked uncertainly at Felice. “Oh, Gabe, this is—”

“I know Felice, she was in my evening lit class.” Gabe smiled. “She was the best student in it.”

Felice was appearing uncharacteristically shy. She grinned and looked down at her feet. “Come on,” she said. “You were a good teacher, that’s all.” Suzanne shuddered at the mention of the past. She watched Joel as he slept beside her. His slim, muscled chest rose and fell with each breath. I love you anyway, Joel; there’s been more good than bad. We just need time, that’s all; you’ll find yourself.

Suddenly she hated the Aadae. She closed her fists, hoping for an Aada’s neck around which to squeeze them. Tears stung her eyes, blurring the image of the Aadae in the road.

“What are they doing?” Gabe whispered. She ignored him and began to walk along the highway toward the aliens. A soft sigh rose from the semicircle of Aadae and drifted to her. They were swaying now, back and forth from the waist.

The sun’s edge appeared on the horizon, lighting up the road. The Aadae leaned forward. Suzanne, hearing footsteps behind her, stepped forward and turned.

Five pairs of blind violet eyes stared through her. Startled, she moved away from the five Aadae and let them pass. The five, dressed in dirty robes, stumbled onto the road, arms stretched in front of them. They wandered to the edge of the semicircle and stood there, holding their arms out toward the sun. Suzanne followed them and stood with them. They didn’t seem to realize she was there.

She waved an arm in front of the nearest Aada. The alien showed no reaction. They’re truly blind, she thought as she gazed into the empty eyes. The five Aadae continued to stare directly into the rising sun. They began to sway on their feet, burned-out retinas unable to focus. She stepped back from them, moving again to the side of the road.

Gabe and Felice were with her, pulling at her arms. “Come on,” said Gabe, “we’d better get out of here, come on.” She pulled her arms free and continued to watch the Aadae.

Something was drawing her toward the aliens, something that hovered over her, tugging at her mind. She was at peace, wanting only to join the group on the road. She found her head turning to the sun.

A shadow rose in front of her. “Suzanne!” It was Gabe, holding her by the shoulders. Suddenly she was frightened. She stumbled backward, grabbing at Gabe’s arms. The sighs of the Aadae were louder now, driving her away.

“Run!” Suzanne screamed. “Run!” Her feet, pounding along the side of the road, were carrying her back to the domes. She ran, soon losing herself among the domes. At last she stopped, exhausted, in front of one. She turned to the triangular doorway.

Two Aadae were there, one with stiff orange hair like a flame and shiny copper-colored skin. The dark-haired golden-skinned one was coming toward her. She threw up her arms, trying to ward her off.

The alien took her by the arm and tugged gently. Suzanne followed the Aada passively, led like a child along the path between the domes. Then they stopped and she realized that she was in front of her own dome.

She sighed and leaned against the doorway. Her fear had disappeared, and she was feeling a bit foolish. I must have been really drunk. The Aada released her, then bowed from the waist in an Oriental farewell before disappearing among the domes.

 

The air was heavy and the sky overcast. People were sitting or standing around aimlessly; occasionally small groups of people, scarcely speaking to each other, would pass by. Suzanne sat with her back to her dome, watching Felice mend a shirt. That morning, at breakfast, one of the men had stood up and thrown his bowl, still filled with greenish mush, at the wall. All of them had been growing tired of the food, which was always the same. But until today, they had simply gone to the slots on the wall, pushed the buttons, and passively accepted the green mush and milky blue liquid which were all the slots ever yielded besides glasses of water.

The green mush had stuck to the wall, resembling a fungoid growth. Rivulets ran from it, trickling to the floor. Then a tiny gray-haired woman hurled her bowl. Within seconds, everyone in the large room was throwing bowls and following the bowls with the glasses of blue liquid, shrieking with laughter as the liquid mingled with the mush on the walls. Several people hurried to the food slots and punched buttons wildly, pulled out more food and threw it at the walls. The orgy of food throwing had lasted almost half an hour until the walls were thickly coated and the Aadae had arrived.

The two aliens had ignored the mess. They brought a cart with them filled with oddly shaped metal objects of different sizes. One of the Aadae rummaged among the objects and removed a small cylinder. Then she held it over her head, showing it to everyone in the room. Her companion handed her a silvery block and the Aada attached it to the cylinder, then fastened a blue block to the cylinder’s other end.

“Put together,” the alien said, pointing with the object to the cart. The two Aadae turned and left the dome.

“What the hell,” Suzanne heard Oscar mutter.

“We better do it,” said the tiny old woman. “Who knows what they’ll do if we don’t.”

The room was beginning to stink. A few flies buzzed near the mush-covered walls. “I’d better get Joel his breakfast,” Suzanne said absently to Felice. She wandered over to the food slots, punched the buttons and removed a bowl and glass. People had already begun work on the objects by the time she was climbing the stairs to her room, where Joel still lay sleeping. At least it’s something to do.

It had taken only a couple of hours to put the objects together. Once again, they were left with time on their hands, long hours that were chains on their minds, minutes through which they swam, pushed underwater, unable to come up for air. Felice was mending the shirt on her lap slowly and carefully; the sewing of each stitch became an entire project.

“They’ll come back,” said Suzanne. “And give us more pointless stuff to do.”

“You know what I think,” said the small woman. “I think they’re crazy. They don’t need us to put that stuff together.” Felice hunched herself over the shirt and continued sewing. “You can’t even tell what the things are for.”

Suzanne began to poke at a loose thread on her jeans. The humid air was making her sweat and her crotch was starting to itch. She had managed to wash her underwear by using several glasses of water from the food slots, but there was nowhere she could bathe except by one of the sinks in the bathroom where the water was always cold and anyone could wander in at any time. Suzanne was afraid to go to the bathroom alone anyway. A woman in one of the nearby domes had been raped in a bathroom; although her husband had beaten the man who had done it, the fear of rape had spread among many women. Now Suzanne went to the bathroom only with Joel or Felice or some of the other women in the dome. A couple of times Gabe would accompany her, looking modestly away from her at the wall while she squatted on the floor over the hole which would suck her wastes away down a large tube. There were no partitions between the holes; squatting over them had become ritualized, with everyone courteously avoiding a look at the others present in the bathroom. Occasionally there was moisture around the holes; someone had taken a piss and missed. One fastidious young couple tried to keep the bathroom clean, mopping the floor and walls with an old undershirt, but they were not always successful.

Suzanne was growing uneasy. She was used to seeing an occasional pair of Aadae stroll along the pathway in front of her, but the aliens seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly her muscles tightened involuntarily. Something was in the air, hovering over her.

 

She heard a scream, a high-pitched, ululating sound, and then a roar, a bellowing from hundreds of throats. “Felice!” she cried, grabbing at the woman next to her. Felice dropped her shirt and they both stood up.

We should go inside. Suzanne looked down the pathway and saw a large group of men moving toward the highway. She began to run toward them with Felice close behind her. Again she heard the scream, which had taken on the cadences of a mournful song. It was closer to her now. A small group of people had gathered in front of a dome up ahead. She ran to them and pushed her way through the crowd. Then she shrank back, moaning softly, slapping a hand over her mouth.

An Aada hung in the doorway by her feet. Someone had tied a rope around her ankles. The alien had been stabbed several times; brown clots covered her body. Her long orange hair brushed the ground as she turned in the doorway, her violet eyes stared sightlessly at the crowd. They were all that was left of her face, smashed by fists. Bone fragments protruded from her jaw; her copper-colored skin was covered by greenish bruises. On the ground beneath her lay another Aada, dying from wounds which covered her body. The alien on the ground drew her black hair over her chest, lifted her head slightly, and opened her mouth, and Suzanne again heard the song-like scream. Then she turned from them and was silent.

The people around Suzanne said nothing. She heard only their breathing, the sound of a giant bellows near a flame. She turned away from the alien bodies and stumbled back to Felice.

“We have to get out of here, Suzanne,” she heard Felice whisper. Another roar reached her ears. She could see the crowd of men crossing the highway. Some of them had their arms raised. Knives glittered in their fists. An elongated shadow fell across the mob on the highway and she became conscious of a faint humming sound. An alien air vehicle was in the sky, a slender silver torpedo waiting to strike.

A bright light flashed across the highway soundlessly. She threw an arm across her eyes and staggered backward. The people in front of the dome were running past her. An arm swung out and hit her, knocking her onto the path. She climbed to her feet, looking aimlessly around. The air vehicle was moving away to the north.

“Felice!” she cried out. Her voice shook. Then she saw that there were no longer any men on the highway, only burned, blackened bodies strewn about on the asphalt. The smell of charred flesh was carried to her nostrils and she bent over, vomiting quietly, arms wrapped around her shaking body.

“The fools.” It was Felice’s voice, harsh and bitter. “Too soon.” A hand was on her shoulder, pulling at her gently. She looked over at Felice, then back at the highway.

A group of Aadae were there, looking down at the bodies. Happy, aren’t you? It wasn’t even a contest. There was no way now to tell who lay in the road, if anyone she knew was there. She would have to wait, find out who was missing, and that would take days. Any mourning would be general and unfocused. The Aadae began to circle around the bodies.

Then she heard the sobbing, deep and uncontrolled weeping. Three Aadae threw themselves down on the pavement, beating against it with their fists. The aliens were crying, not for the two Aadae who had been murdered, but for the men on the highway.

Felice was pulling her back along the pathway toward their own dome. As they retreated, Suzanne caught one last glimpse of the Aadae as they flung their arms open to the sun and heard once again their musical scream.

She heard Joel as he crept toward his mat in the darkness. She turned over and reached for him, brushing against his leg. He jumped back. “Jesus! Don’t scare me like that.”

“Joel, where have you been?”

“Where I was the night before.”

“Where?”

“None of your goddamn business, Suzanne.” He pulled off his clothes and sprawled on the mat next to hers.

“I just want to know, Joel.”

“I can tell you’re back to normal; you’re going to revive the Inquisition. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

“You haven’t gotten up one morning this week, Joel, ever since they started giving us that stuff to put together.”

“I should care. You don’t even know what the fuckers are for, you just sit there putting them together, you think it’s really important, don’t you, just like that dumb job at the warehouse you used to have.”

“It’s not that, Joel. They’re going to find out you’re not doing your share, and God knows what they’ll do then.”

“I could give a shit.” She could hear him turn over on his mat and knew the conversation was finished. Suzanne had heard rumors about a group of men and a few women who would meet late at night to discuss what to do about the Aadae. She knew nothing more and was afraid to know even that much. She remembered the burned bodies on the highway and decided it was best simply to go about her business and wait.

She was pretty sure that Oscar Harrison was in the group and that Felice knew about it, although she doubted that the protective Oscar would allow his wife to go to the meetings. It wouldn’t be hard for her to get involved if she wanted, but she preferred to wait and see if anything happened. She could act then.

“It’s a perfectly good job, Joel; why are you always putting it down?” She put down her beer and glared at him across the kitchen table.

“It’s a dead end and you know it. That’s all life is for you, getting by. You could do more and you know it, but it’s easier this way—you don’t have to think or try. It’s even easier to put up with me; it’s better than being alone. At least I know what I am; you don’t even look at yourself.”

I was practical, at least. Not that it mattered now. There had been no more money for her training in music, so she had left school and taken the job in the warehouse office, telling herself it was only temporary, she could still have her voice lessons, go to the local opera company’s rehearsals at night. But she stopped going to the rehearsals—she was usually too tired—and then she had stopped going to the voice lessons. I wouldn’t have been much good anyway. Occasionally she sang for her friends at parties, smiling when they told her she should become a professional; it’s just a hobby. Then Gabe had rushed over one day to tell her that the opera was holding auditions, they needed a new soprano, she would be perfect, the pay wasn’t much, but she could at least quit that office job. And she promised to go to the audition, but by then she was out of training, her voice roughened by cigarettes, so she didn’t go after all. There was no point to it. She had just gotten a raise; no sense in throwing it away.

It doesn’t matter. The Aadae were here and had no use for singers, nor for office workers. Her past was a meaningless memory, her possible future in that other world only a shadow of the wishes that had once crossed her mind. Better that she had had no great ambitions when the Aadae came; she would not have been able to stand it. Her dreams had already died.

It’s just as well.

 

 

The orange-haired alien was named Neir-let. Felice had mentioned that to her a couple of days before. Neir-let and her dark-haired companion were the Aadae who had instructed them in how to put together the metal objects which were now beginning to clutter the large downstairs room of the dome. Neir-let wore a blue gem on her forehead, a stone seemingly embedded in her skin, as did all the other Aadae. Suzanne hadn’t even noticed this until Oscar had pointed it out; most of the aliens’ foreheads were covered by their untidy hair. The gem was tiny, smaller than a Hindu’s caste mark; it glittered, and Suzanne shivered involuntarily.

Neir-let had become more fluent in English, although no one could be sure about how she had learned it. Her companion never said anything. Neir-let had just demonstrated how to attach a silver globe to the apparatus they had been building, then she gave them a cartful of silver globes, several of which went rolling out of the cart over the floor, stopping their travels under the food slots. The metal objects on the floor were entwined in metallic tubing; the blocks and cylinders they had started out with were already hidden. The silver globes were to be attached to some of the loose ends of tubing.

Suzanne, sitting with Felice and a red-headed woman named Asenath Berry at one of the tables, reached for her bowl of mush. She was losing weight. Suzanne had already been thin before the Aadae came. On the diet of mush, she estimated, from the looseness of her clothing, that she had lost another ten pounds. A scarecrow. Her brown hair, always unruly, stood out around her head like a nimbus; there was no way to straighten it here.

No one made any move toward the objects they were supposed to be putting together. They had all learned that Neir-let was fairly easy-going and didn’t seem to care what they did as long as the work was completed by the evening. Neir-let was sitting on the floor near the doorway, picking what looked like small insects out of her hair. Her companion leaned against the wall, scratching her crotch.

Suddenly Oscar stood up and walked over to Neir-let. Suzanne glanced at Felice. The chatter in the large room died down. No one had dared to approach an alien directly up to now. Asenath Berry poked Suzanne in the ribs. “What the hell is he up to?” the redhead asked. Suzanne shrugged. Asenath had lost little weight on the mush diet; her round, braless breasts were an edifice under her sleeveless blue top and Suzanne wondered if Asenath had used silicone. Her long tanned legs were set off by her white shorts. How she kept them shaved was a mystery. Felice had said that Asenath was a prostitute, that she had come out of the city with a closetful of clothes and cosmetics carried by three of her most faithful customers. Asenath shared her room with a lean black man named Warren, who, like Joel, usually slept late. “A mack,” Felice had told her, sneering at the word. What do I care. Suzanne had met Asenath one night in the hallway. The redhead had taken one look at her frail figure and pulled out two cans of beef stew hidden in her purse. “You need them more than me, honey.” She had hurried back to her room to share them with Joel, who opened them with his knife, and they had eaten them slowly, relishing each bite. Since then, she found it difficult not to be friendly to Asenath, although at the same time she was a bit frightened of her.

“I just want to ask a question,” Oscar said to Neir-let. The room was silent. Neir-let looked up at Oscar and smiled. “I just want to know what that blue thing in your head is.”

The alien was still smiling. “Through it I am with those above,” she replied, and shrugged as if that were self-explanatory.

“The others of your kind?” Oscar said slowly.

“No, except …” Neir-let paused. “I have no words.” She smiled at Oscar and raised her hands, palms up. Oscar nodded and returned to Felice’s side, looking thoughtful.

A few people got up and began to attach the globes to some of the metal objects strewn across the floor. “I think they still have spaceships overhead,” Oscar said to Felice, “and she means they can contact them with those blue stones. That’s all it could mean. At any sign of trouble, they could wipe us all out.” He clenched his fists. Asenath was smiling at a burly man seated at the next table. Suzanne ate her mush, licking it off her fingers, forcing herself. Asenath stood up, motioned to the burly man, and left the room with him. The Aadae were paying no attention.

Somebody should do something. She finished the mush and looked around. Everyone was devoting full attention either to the breakfast mush or to the metal objects. Neir-let and her friend had moved outside and were staring up at the sky. Suzanne’s arms seemed to freeze on the table near her empty bowl. She was unable to move, eyes fixed on her fingertips. Thoughts were chasing each other through her mind; she could grasp none of them. A heavy weight was pushing her against the table, preventing her from standing up and going to work on the metal devices.

Someone nudged her. “That ho’s lookin’ for you,” Felice drawled contemptuously. She forced herself to look up and saw Asenath on the metal stairway, motioning to her. The burly man had disappeared. “Don’t go,” Felice went on. “You don’t want to be with the likes of her.” Then Oscar put a restraining hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Don’t tell Suzanne what to do,” he said quietly. “You go ahead,” he said to Suzanne. She hesitated for a moment, then got up and walked to the stairway.

“Come on up,” she called to Suzanne. She climbed the stairs.

“What is it?”

“I got two packs of cigarettes off my friend,” Asenath whispered. She winked at Suzanne and her black eyelashes seemed to crawl over her eye like an insect. “Want a couple?”

“That was fast work,” Suzanne said, trying to smile. Asenath’s cold blue eyes showed no reaction.

“You better come to my room, or else everybody’s going to want one.” The redhead turned and Suzanne followed her past the first level of rooms and up the next flight of stairs. Asenath finally stopped in front of a doorway. “Come on in.” Suzanne entered the room. Warren was sprawled across his mat, clothed in a pink shirt and velvety purple slacks. He held a small hand mirror and was fiddling with his moustache. “Have a seat,” said Asenath, motioning to her mat. Suzanne sat, feeling uneasy.

Asenath didn’t sit down. She peered out into the hallway, then strode over to Suzanne. “There aren’t any cigarettes, kid, just some questions.”

Suzanne opened her mouth. Her vocal chords locked and nothing emerged except a sharp gasp. She swallowed and pulled her legs closer to her chest.

“What’s that man of yours been up to?” Asenath asked.

“I don’t know,” she managed to say. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice sounded weak, ineffectual.

“Stop being stupid. He’s been out every night this week, we know that, and we know where he is for some of the time. Now you tell us where he goes.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re saying that a little too often; I don’t want to hear it again. We’ve tried following him. We know he doesn’t come back here right away. You must know something, he must have hinted at what he does.”

Suzanne looked away from Asenath to Warren, who had put down his hand mirror and was staring blankly at the wall. “I don’t know where he goes,” she said, pronouncing the words carefully. “I don’t know anything about his activities. Joel tells me nothing. He rarely told me anything, even before we all came here. Our relationship is not exactly what you would call open.” She felt defeated and exposed before the red-headed woman and her dark silent partner.

“Christ,” Asenath muttered.

“Let her go,” said Warren. Suzanne stood up and began to move toward the door. A hand seized her shoulder and she found herself facing Asenath’s blue eyes again.

“If you do find out anything,” the prostitute whispered, “if he does decide to confide in you, you better let me know, I’m telling you, and right away. And you just keep quiet about this little talk.”

She retreated from the room angry and frightened, afraid to stop now in her own room to wake up Joel. I have to warn him. I have to find out. I have to talk to somebody. She paused at the top of the stairway, apprehensive about joining the people in the large room below. But they were ignoring her, busy working on their alien devices.

She continued down the steps, avoiding a glance at Felice and Oscar. She sat down in a corner and began fitting metal pieces together under the casual, almost reassuring gaze of Neir-let.

 

 

“I have to talk to you, Gabe.”

“Sure.”

“Not here.” Suzanne eyed the people sitting in front of Gabe’s dome nervously and felt that they were all watching her. She forced herself to look at them directly and realized that they were paying her little attention. “I mean, I feel like walking around.”

“Okay.” Gabe hoisted himself off the ground and brushed off his dirty rumpled trousers. Oddly enough, he seemed to be maintaining his girth on the Aadaen diet. He took her arm gently. “Back to your room?”

“Joel’s there. I mean, I think he’s still asleep.” She recognized a face in front of one of the domes and waved at it while nodding her head. “Let’s walk on the highway.”

The weather was warm but not humid. White clouds danced across the blue sky under the benevolent gaze of the sun. A group of adolescent boys had somehow gotten hold of a baseball and bat and were playing a game on the highway. Farther down the road, Suzanne could see a group of children with some Aadae. They too were playing a game, chasing what looked like cylinders on wheels across the safety islands. Suzanne and Gabe walked toward the city, past the baseball players.

“I have to talk about Joel,” she said. “I’m worried.”

“What’s the problem this time?”

“It isn’t just a personal thing, Gabe. I’m scared. Joel’s been out nights, I don’t know where he goes. Maybe it’s none of my business, I guess I should be used to it by now. But the thing is …” She lowered her voice. “A couple of other people want to know where he goes, too, Gabe; they were asking me about it this morning. They weren’t being gentle. I think they would have beaten it out of me if they thought I knew.”

Gabe scratched at his beard. In the absence of razor blades he, like most of the men, was looking shaggier than usual. “You don’t know where he goes?”

“For God’s sake, Gabe. No, I don’t. I thought you might. I thought you could tell me what’s going on.”

“I think you should tell me who wanted to know about Joel, Suzanne.”

“Asenath Berry. You’ve seen her, the good-looking redhead, the whore. She and her friend Warren wanted to know. I was dumb enough to think Asenath wanted to be my friend.”

Gabe sighed and was silent for a few seconds. She could hear the shouts of the baseball-playing boys in back of them. “I’ll talk to her,” Gabe said at last. “She won’t bother you again.”

“Then you do know something.” She stopped walking and faced him. “Tell me. What is it?”

“I shouldn’t tell you. I tried not to; I thought it was best that you stay out of it. But I guess you have a right to know. A group of us have been making some plans; that’s all I can say. Joel’s part of the group. So is Asenath. Some of us have been a little suspicious of Joel lately. It seems he doesn’t go directly home from our little get-togethers. Asenath must have taken it upon herself to find out why.”

She turned away from Gabe, bewildered. “Now I’ve just upset you,” he muttered. “It’s probably nothing. We’re all a little paranoid; we have to be. We’ll probably find out he’s just visiting a friend or something. Don’t worry, he’s not that involved with us anyway; we’ve been holding meetings without him once in a while. I don’t think he wants to get tangled up in anything too dangerous. You know Joel.”

Gabe was leaving something out. Suddenly she didn’t want to hear any more, didn’t want to know what Gabe or Joel or anyone else might be planning. “He’s seeing someone else,” she said. “He’s seeing another girl. It’s happened before.” That must be it. The thought left her empty, almost relieved.

“Why do you stay with him, Suzanne?”

“I don’t know. What difference does it make now?” She turned to the city. “Let’s just keep walking, Gabe, let’s go back to the city; they’ll never find us there, we’ll get Joel and go back and we can sit around drinking at Mojo’s like we used to.”

“You know we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll find us. We should go back, Suzanne. Come on, I’ll walk you to your dome.”

“I’d rather not go back there right now,” she said wearily. She went to the side of the road and sat down on some grass. “You can leave if you want, Gabe, I think I’d rather be alone right now anyway.”

“You’re sure, Suzanne? You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t do anything silly?”

“No.”

“Well, if you want to talk to me later or anything, feel free.” She watched him shuffle back down the highway, shoulders slumped forward.

She pulled at the grass near her foot. Things were slipping away from her again as they always had. Her relationship with Joel had always seemed fortuitous. He had drifted into her life at a party she almost didn’t attend; he could very well drift out again and there was nothing she could do about it. At worst he would get involved in some foolhardy scheme with Gabe and the others, resulting in disaster; she was convinced that the Aadae could not be defeated. At best, he would stay with her and they would continue living in the dome as they had with no purpose other than constructing alien objects for the Aadae. The thought made her shudder. It was useless to look ahead; the best thing to do was to get through each day, forfeiting any hopes. She had practice at that already.

A cloud danced in front of the sun, shadowing the road in front of her. She shivered in the cooler air.

 

Joel had disappeared again. In the morning, his mat was empty. Suzanne, awake at dawn, was outside the dome, shivering slightly in the wet air.

A heavy fog hung over the domed settlement, its gray masses almost indistinguishable from the metal domes. Its tendrils wound along the pathway and wrapped themselves around her feet. Suzanne stepped away from the doorway into the fog and was soon lost in its billowing masses, unable to see more than dim shapes. She was hidden and protected.

She was not looking for Joel. She didn’t really want to know where he was and didn’t want to risk confronting him in the presence of someone else. She tried to think about him objectively in the gray silence. It was foolish to think she could be everything to him, that she could fulfill all his needs, particularly in the present situation. He had always come back before. She demanded little sexually, content to satisfy Joel’s needs with few of her own. She thought of Paul, whom she had loved while still in school. After two months, she had finally allowed Paul to share her cot in the dormitory room, twisting against him frantically during the night. She had satisfied him, but not herself. She avoided Paul after that. There was another, a boy whose name she couldn’t remember, at a party, and with him there were only spasms and a drained, nauseous feeling afterward. With Joel she acted, going through the motions but always distant, her mind drifting off as he entered her. At times she would feel a twinge or an occasional spasm. She knew she loved him, or at least had loved him once; yet if he had remained with her, never touching her except for a kiss or a few hugs, she would have been content. I can’t expect him to be satisfied with that; no one would be. Why shouldn’t he see someone else? It’s surprising he stays with me at all. Her heart twisted at the thought. Her mind throbbed, recoiling from the image of Joel with a vague female shape, and tears stung her eyes. She hated her body, a piece of perambulating dead meat, an anesthetized machine. No, not anesthetized. She could, after all, feel pain.

She was lost in the fog. She no longer knew where her own dome was. She kept walking, thinking that if she could find the highway, she could reorient herself.

“Hey.” She turned. “Hey.” Two young black men stood in the doorway of a dome, watching her. They were smiling, and one of them gestured to her. She fled into the fog, turning down another path and almost running until she was sure the two men were far behind. Then she suddenly felt shame. They probably just wanted to ask me something. She shook off the thought. I have to be careful. But she wondered if she would have hurried away if the men had been white. Her cheeks burned.

She was more lost than before. She stopped in front of a dome and tried to figure out where she was. She should have come to the highway by now.

She peered inside the dome tentatively, then stepped back. It was guarded by two Aadae. Inside, she could see aliens sleeping on the floor in the large central room. She had not seen the inside of one of their dwellings before, afraid of approaching one. The guards looked at her inquisitively. She backed away farther, trying to smile harmlessly, then continued on the path.

She collided with someone. She opened her mouth to apologize, then threw her hands in front of her face and managed to suppress a scream. A bald, wizened figure stood there, clad only in a dirty robe. It was no more than five feet tall and its greenish-yellow skin was stretched tightly over bones. It stared at her blankly and she recognized the violet eyes of the Aadae. Its robe hung open, revealing a penis no thicker than a finger. The blue stone on its forehead seemed to wink at her.

One of the males. She felt nauseated. The figure tried to reach for her, his lips drawing back across his teeth in an imitation of a smile. She moved back, trying to ward him off with her arms.

Then another Aada was beside him, holding his arm. She recognized Neir-let. The Aada was whispering to the male in her own language. The male, still grinning, sat down.

“He frightens you?” Neir-let asked. Suzanne sighed with relief. “He is harmless.”

“I didn’t know … I haven’t seen a male Aada before.”

Neir-let looked puzzled for a second, then nodded. “Male. We have few, enough for children. We always have few. This one is old and no longer wise.” The male was drooling and picking at his toenails. “Soon his mind will join the others above. In his travels, he may see our home again.” Neir-let sat down with the male, her arm across his shoulders.

“Do you miss your home?” Suzanne said impulsively. She was suddenly curious about the Aadae, who as far as she knew rarely talked to anyone. Neir-let seemed to sigh.

“To you, Suzanne, I will talk,” said the alien. She was shocked, not realizing that Neir-let knew her name. “You have a gift, I know. You have brushed those above once in the dawn. Do you remember? You fled from us.”

Suzanne struggled with her memories, then recalled the morning she had seen the Aadae seated on the highway, staring into the sun. She nodded silently.

“Yes, I miss my home. I will not see it again as I am. But I could not stay there knowing that other minds would die. Your world is much like ours, but the small differences bring me sadness. Yet I could live here with my daughters and be pleased.” Neir-let paused. Suzanne sat down near her, for once unafraid. “But we must leave here and the home of my daughters must be the ship.”

Leave here. If we wait long enough … “Why are you here?” she asked.

“So that you will not die.”

“You’ve killed so many of us, though. Why?”

Tears glistened in the alien’s eyes. “If we had not, others would have joined them. Then all of you would die. It is a painful thing, Suzanne.” Neir-let patted the male alien on the head and trilled to him. He nestled against her. Suzanne was at peace, strangely, not wanting to leave Neir-let’s side. The fog had lifted slightly. I should get back to the dome, she thought, unwilling to move.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a shape leave the doorway of the dome where the Aadae slept. She turned to face it. Joel. The shape disappeared in the fog and she could not be sure.

Neir-let was still singing to the male Aada. Suzanne rose and began to thread her way through the maze of paths. She could see more clearly now and soon managed to find her own dome.

She hurried inside and up the stairway. In her room, Joel lay on his mat, seemingly asleep. Yet his breathing was shallow and his hair and face were dotted with small beads of moisture. She wanted to speak to him, to question him. She clamped her lips shut and curled up on her own mat, nursing her pain and her fear.

 

She had to talk to Gabe. She had to tell him what Neir-let had said.

She went looking for him as soon as she was through with her work for the day. The bright sunlight had burned away the fog of that morning and by noon the weather was hot and humid. A group of people, among them Oscar Harrison and Asenath Berry, had gathered in front of the dome when she left, speaking to each other in low, angry tones. One man reached out and grabbed her as she passed and she tried to pull away.

“Let her go,” said Oscar. The man released her. Suzanne retreated, then looked back. Everyone in the area seemed to be leaving the vicinity as if expecting trouble. Joel was still asleep upstairs and for a moment she wondered if she should go back and wake him up. Better to let him sleep; he’ll miss the trouble. She went on to Gabe’s dome.

Gabe was not in his room. One of his roommates, a frail-looking Chinese man named Soong, looked up as she entered.

“Do you know where Gabe is?” she asked him. “I have to talk to him.” She felt impatient, on edge. “It’s pretty important.”

Mr. Soong smiled. “He is being entertained by a young lady, I believe, a few domes down. He has been away all night. You can find him there, but I do not know if he wishes to be disturbed.”

The old windbag. “Which dome?”

“I am not sure. If you wish to wait here, you are welcome. Please be seated.” The man nodded toward one of the mats which crowded the floor. “Gabe was indeed overwhelmed by good fortune. He was surprised when the young lady appeared last night and invited him to share her company. Usually he is back by morning, but she was a very attractive woman.”

And he’s always complaining about his lousy luck. “Thank you,” said Suzanne, trying to be as dignified as Mr. Soong. “I’ll come back later. Please tell him Suzanne’s looking for him; he’ll know who I am.”

She went back out the door and down the stairway. She paused in the downstairs room, wondering if she should talk to Felice. Then she remembered the angry crowd in front of her dome. I can’t go back there.

For the first time, it occurred to her that Neir-let might have spoken to her in confidence. Perhaps she didn’t want Suzanne speaking to anyone else about their talk; maybe she would be angry if she found out she had. She shrugged off the idea. It couldn’t hurt to tell someone and it might prevent them from acting rashly. She remembered the burned bodies on the highway. They could afford to wait, knowing that the Aadae planned to leave.

“Suzanne.” Gabe was standing in the doorway. She hurried toward him. He was smiling contentedly. “I finally had some luck, this girl I hardly know …”

“Mr. Soong told me.” She tried to smile back.

“Don’t look so irritated. I’ll start flattering myself by thinking you’re jealous.”

“Gabe, I have to talk to you. I was talking to one of the Aadae last night and she told me they were going to leave eventually, I don’t know when, but that’s what she said.”

“Where did you see her?”

“I just happened to run into her, I was wandering around. Gabe, if we can just wait …”

“Suzanne, they won’t leave until they’ve accomplished their purpose, whatever that is. It could be pretty hideous, you know.”

“Neir-let said they want to keep us from dying.”

Gabe wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “No doubt she was speaking figuratively.”

Someone outside was shouting. Suzanne shook her head and began to move toward the doorway. “What’s going on,” she said listlessly. Something seemed to be keeping her from looking outside.

Gabe was pulling at her hand. “Don’t talk to Neir-let any more,” he muttered. “In fact, I wouldn’t advise talking to any of the Aadae unless you can’t help it. Some people don’t like it; you could get into trouble.”

She was suddenly annoyed by Gabe. She withdrew her hand and went outside. A small group of people were standing in front of her dome. She wandered toward them. Something was in the doorway of the dome. She moved closer.

She saw Joel. A shock seemed to strike her body, paralyzing her. Blood rushed to her head and face. Her skin crawled over her stiff muscles, a cold piece of iron was resting in her belly.

Joel was hanging by his neck in the doorway. He had been stabbed several times. Someone had ripped off his shirt, revealing long scratches on his chest. His feet dangled loosely from his legs. Above him, someone had posted a sign: COLLABORATOR. His eyes were closed, the long lashes shadowing his cheekbones.

She began to push people aside as she walked to the doorway. She stumbled near a knife carelessly abandoned under the slowly rotating body. She picked up the bloodstained weapon and began to hack at the rope that held Joel by the neck.

“Suzanne.” Gabe was near her. His voice seemed to reach her ears from a distance. “Come away from here.” She continued to cut the rope until the body fell at her feet, a flesh-covered sack of bones. One hand draped itself across her left ankle, then slipped away.

She stepped over the body into the large central room. No one was there. Unfinished metal devices were strewn across the floor. She heard footsteps clatter near her and turned around.

Asenath Berry crouched on the stairway. Her blue eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. The redhead had a large knapsack on her back. Suzanne moved toward her, still holding the knife.

“Wait!” shouted Asenath, holding up her arms. “He told us everything before he died—he admitted it—we made sure of that. He told them everything he knew about our group, about our plans. They promised him a reward.” Asenath continued to creep down the stairs. “He was a traitor, do you understand? He was looking out for himself.”

The redhead was only a few feet away from her. Suzanne lunged toward Asenath, knocking her on her side. She lifted the knife. Asenath’s foot hit her hand, knocking the knife across the room. The redhead tried to climb to her feet. Suzanne grabbed the curly red hair and began to pull at it silently.

Hands clawed at Suzanne’s legs. “Stop it!” Asenath was screaming. Holding the prostitute’s head with one hand, she started to punch her in the breasts.

“For God’s sake!” Gabe’s big arms were around her, pulling her away from Asenath. She sagged against him, suddenly exhausted, staring at the clump of red hair in her left hand. Asenath got up and scrambled out the door.

Gabe was shaking her by the shoulders. She managed to get free and saw the knife against the wall near the stairway. She picked it up and tucked it under her belt. Then she walked outside.

The small crowd was still there. Ignoring them, she grabbed Joel’s feet and began to drag him along the pathway behind her. The people moved away from her, receding until she could see no faces, only blurs. She dragged Joel past the gray domes until she reached the side of the highway. She collapsed next to him, one arm across his chest.

I should have been with you. She drew his head near her chest. I should have helped you. I didn’t even talk to you. I didn’t even try to find out what was wrong.

She waited, watching the body, thinking that he would start to breathe again, that he would speak and hold out his arms to her. You once told me you were a survivor, you would live forever. He would hold onto her and she would take him back to the dome and help him recover.

She waited. A few people hurried past her and on down the highway, toward the city. They were leaving, ready to make plans and take their chances away from the domed settlement.

She waited. Joel did not move, did not speak. She began to dig his grave in the dirt, scratching at the soil with her knife and hands. She continued to dig until her hands were bleeding and her shoulders were stiff and sore.

She looked up. The sun had drifted to the west. Joel was covered by evening shadows. Overhead, the silvery aircraft of the Aadae hummed past, heading for the city. She stood up, staggering a little, and watched them.

The towers of the city gleamed. Several aircraft were hovering over them, insects over a crown. The sudden flash of light almost blinded her. She stumbled backward, closing her eyes.

When she opened them, she saw only blackened ruins where the city had been. Then the charred hulks collapsed before her eyes and she saw only a burned-out pit. Nearby, she could hear the strange mourning cry of the Aadae.

She dropped to her knees and began once more to dig.

 

Suzanne lay in her room. Now and then, she heard footsteps pass the door. Bits of conversation would drift from the main room up the stairs to her. She lay on her mat, her arms and legs held down by invisible bonds. Occasionally she slept.

Time became waves washing over her gently. She floated, occasionally focusing her eyes on the ceiling. A dark shape with flaming hair leaned over her and she saw it was Neir-let. “We must finish our task,” the alien whispered. “Please help.” She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, the Aada had disappeared.

Joel was near. She could tell that he was trying to be silent so he wouldn’t disturb her. He was rummaging in the kitchen, trying to cook the blueberry waffles he had surprised her with one Sunday morning. She turned on her side and saw Gabe sitting against the wall.

“I didn’t know what they were going to do,” he said. “It was a trick, that girl taking me to her room; they knew I was his friend; they didn’t want me around.” She opened her mouth, trying to speak. Her lips were cracked and dry. Don’t worry, she wanted to say, you can stay for breakfast; Joel doesn’t mind. She closed her eyes and felt a wet cloth on her face.

When she woke up again, she was lying under a long coat. Someone had removed her clothes. “I washed you off,” said Gabe. He was holding a glass of blue liquid. He lifted her head and helped her sip some of it.

“How long have I been here?” she managed to ask.

“Days. I thought you were going to die.” He put her head back on the mat.

“No, I won’t die.” She looked at her arm on top of the coat. Her hands had become bony claws, the blue veins which covered her arm were a web. “I won’t die,” she said again, in despair.

“I’ll stay with you if you want me,” said Gabe. “I moved into the room next door, but if you want me here, I’ll stay. Just tell me.”

She shook her head, rolling it from side to side on the mat. “No.”

“Think it over, at least.” He patted her hand. She withdrew it from him slowly and placed it under the coat.

“No.” She was floating now. The room grew darker and the walls seemed to shimmer. Again she felt a wet cloth on her face.

When she woke up once more, Gabe was gone.

 

Suzanne wandered through the large downstairs room and took a seat next to the wall. She gazed at the people sitting around the tables. The tiny gray-haired woman was absent. Warren, Asenath, Oscar, and Felice were gone, as were others she had known only by sight: a big red-haired fellow, a bony middle-aged blonde, an acne-scarred Puerto Rican. She remembered the burned city, and then Joel.

She picked up one of the metal devices near her. Three cylinders, woven together with metallic tubing, were joined to three globes. The cylinders rested on golden rectangular bases. The whole apparatus was about three feet in height. She wondered absently if they would ever be finished. She put the device down and waited for the Aadae to arrive with more components.

She resumed watching the people at the tables. It was possible that some of them, even now, were planning a way to resist or defeat the 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 concentrate.”

She pulled away from him and went outside. She didn’t care about the device. She wanted to get away from Gabe and the dome, sit alone with her thoughts. She walked toward the highway and seated herself next to the mound under which Joel lay. She would keep her vigil with him.

She put the metal object down at her side and found herself distracted by the blue gem. It seemed to tug at her mind, drawing her attention to itself. She continued to stare at the stone, secure in its blue gaze. Her mind was steady, hovering over her body, able to look at the grave near her with no sadness. She was at peace.

Somehow she managed to withdraw from the object. She rose unsteadily to her feet. It was almost noon. Her feet were asleep, her back stiff. She stomped around, trying to restore her circulation.

“Suzanne.” Neir-let was standing by the mound. “You have seen?”

“What is this thing? What does it do, Neir-let?” It was the first time she had addressed the Aada by name and her tongue slid uncertainly over the words.

“It is a tool to build strength. It will aid you, but in a short time you will not need it, I think.”

Suzanne turned from the alien, and noticed that a group of boys were playing baseball on the highway, while others sat on the side of the road in conversation. She saw only one woman, outside a dome, concentrating on her device. “No one else seems to be bothering.”

“It does not matter,” Neir-let said. “One, or a few, will lead and they must follow. You will see. A few are more receptive.”

Suzanne sat down again, with her back to the device. “You will see,” Neir-let’s voice whispered.

 

Suzanne continued to concentrate, sometimes in the evenings, sometimes in the early mornings before the others were awake. Her days consisted of long periods in front of the device, punctuated only by the need to return to the dome for sleep and, less often, food.

Gabe came to her once, as she sat by the highway. He carried her and her device back to the dome and insisted upon forcing food down her throat. He hid the device in his room, saying he would give it back when she looked healthier. Suzanne shrugged at this, by now indifferent to her bony limbs and slightly swollen belly. She wondered vaguely if she was pregnant; her period had not yet arrived. She spent several days lying on her mat, passively bearing Gabe’s ministrations and wondering what Joel’s child would be like. But after a week, her womb bled once more and she knew that there was now nothing left of Joel except the decaying body under a mound.

She regained her strength and managed to steal her device from Gabe’s room while he slept. She fled from her dome and resumed her vigil farther up the highway. She ate her meals in another dome and slept in its large main room, arms draped over the metal object.

She often began her meditations while a group of Aadae sat in the road greeting the dawn. Her mind became clearer, more conscious of the things around her. She focused on a series of sharp images: the shadows of the seated, swaying Aadae, slender and elongated, rippling along the bumps and crevices of the pavement—

the blinded eyes of the robed aliens, violet irises afloat on a sea of white, with pupils that became small dark tunnels into darkness—

a strand of blue-black hair on a golden cheek, caressed by the invisible fingers of a breeze, becoming a long moustache over a lip—

a blade of grass among its fellows, its roots deep in the ground, attempting to draw moisture from the dandelion that hovered over it menacingly.

Her mind uncoiled and floated above her, drifting over the seated Aadae. The domes beneath her grew smaller, becoming overturned bowls on a table and then the tops of mushrooms. She was soaring over the burned bones of the city, strewn in a black pit, an omen to be read by a giant seer. She felt no fear as her mind traveled over the Earth and did not attempt to draw it back. She circled over the city. The highways were asphalt runes, incomplete, leading only to the pit.

Her mind came closer to the ground and returned to her, rushing through the domes where people still slept, dolls thrown on the mats by a careless child. She was staring once again at the metal apparatus in front of her.

Almost ready. It was a whisper, in her mind but not of it. The Aadae rose and began to walk back to their dome, leading their blinded sisters by the hand. Suzanne blinked. There were black spots before her eyes and she realized that she must have been staring at the sun for part of the time.

Her body was a burden which she hoisted to its feet. She would rest, and feed herself, then let her mind roam again.

An Aada near her began to wail. Suzanne opened her mouth and sang with her; her soprano was a bird flying over, then alighting on, the alien’s clear mellow contralto. She soared effortlessly, and her crystalline tones circled over the lower voice, then flew on over the clouds to the sun.

 

Suzanne sat by the highway, away from the late afternoon shadows cast on the ground by the domes. She set her device in front of her and prepared her mind for its work.

She was suddenly frightened, and remembered the morning, long ago, when she had fled from the Aadae in fear. Throw it away. She recoiled from the metal construct before her. Someone, please, tell me what to do. The world was silent, the road empty.

Once more. She watched the blue stone on the device. It began to grow larger, drawing her mind into a blue vortex. She swam in a shimmering dark sea and shafts of light, sharp as spears of glass, pierced her eyes.

She was hurtling over the Earth, following the sun to the west. She moved through the eye of a storm and danced on the pinwheel of clouds. The Earth shrank beneath her and she turned to the moon, brushing against its rocky lifeless surface. Its craters were empty, its mountain peaks sharp, its shadows cold. She fled from the moon and was lost in darkness, heavy black velvet draped over her, pressing at her.

She pushed the blackness away. Now she was falling, spiraling uncontrollably toward the sun. Its flaming surface was a battleground screaming across space, crying for death, reaching out to immolate her. Two flares erupted on the surface and became wispy appendages, the arms of a lover seeking an embrace. No. The star thundered at her. Another flare rose and flung her into the emptiness.

A whisper reached her, almost as insubstantial as the flare dissolving around her. Not yet, you are not ready. Frightened, she flew from the conflagration, moving outward until the planets were round pebbles and the sun only a distant lantern.

An invisible web surrounded her, pulling her toward a far red ruby glittering among diamonds. She passed a young world, still boiling, streaked with red and yellow streams. The red star in front of her grew larger and she drifted through its diffuse strands, to be met on the other side by a shaft of blue-white light. A tiny white sun circled the red star, a fierce sentry ready to defend its tired companion. She was pulled on, past a large gaseous world where heavy tentacled beasts fought in green seas, past a blue star around which dead rocks revolved, past a yellow sun linking flare-arms with its twin. She struggled against the web around her. Take me back. The web traveled more rapidly and she could catch only a glimpse of the worlds she passed.

Ahead of her lay clusters of suns, crowded together in the galactic hub, revolving slowly with companions or shrieking in death, murdering servant worlds around them. She whirled over them and retreated into memory:

Herds of automobiles stampeded through the streets. Their motors were an omnipresent growl, a subliminal threat. Trucks, oblivious to the smaller beasts around them, rolled by majestically; smaller cars made up for their lack in size by the use of clever tactics and, occasionally, increased belligerence. Suzanne walked the streets on a summer evening, clinging to Joel. She gazed up at his face and his eyes were momentarily two suns winking at her. She jostled a red-nosed drunk, rubbed elbows fleetingly with a young blonde woman whose cold green eyes became a green gas giant surrounded by rings. Ahead, a well-dressed silver-haired man shimmered, brushing aside luminous wisps before disappearing into a bar. Two adolescent girls flirted with three muscular boys dressed in embroidered denim jackets twinkling with constellations. She sniffed at the summer air: acrid odor of sweat, exhaust fumes, a whiff of aftershave, a charcoal-broiled steak, sulfur, ammonia, dust. Voices shrieked, babbled, murmured, roared, giggled, and bellowed, underscored by the insistent rumbling of the vehicles around them. She and the others began to retreat from the sidewalks, yielding them to the night. From her window, she could see the lighted windows in the towers around her. A dog was baying below. She heard a thunderous roar, then saw light on the street beneath her. Men on motorcycles screamed by, night creatures in search of prey.

A comet streaked past, throwing her from the starry city. She whirled through the tendrils of a nebula, spinning aimlessly into space. The intangible web which had held her disappeared. She was alone. She had no tears to cry for Joel, for her lost city, for the Earth now impossibly distant from her. She spun through the darkness, away from the pinwheels and discs of galaxies.

Something nearby was tugging at her mind. She drifted toward it, unable to resist. She did not belong here with her small fearful mind and her passive ineptitude. She could not deal with anything out here; she could not understand the processes that produced this immense spectacle, nor could she deal with it emotionally except as a series of frightening visions. Her mind seemed to contract, pushing in upon itself. You are less than nothing here.

Stellar corpses. She could not see them, but she felt their presence. Heavy chains dragged at her, drawing her on. She was a prisoner and assented to her bonds passively. It seemed somehow right that she should remain here, punished for having ventured too far.

Ahead, she saw a circle of blackness, darker even than the space around her, a deep well blotting out the nearer galaxies.

She was falling, tumbling forward into an endless pit. The black well grew wider. She cried out soundlessly and tried to crawl away with nonexistent limbs. But I should wake up now. The well surrounded her and she continued to fall.

The web was around her once more. Pull away. She tried to grasp the mind near her. The black pit was luring her on, teasing her with strands of light, whispering promises. Resist. The other mind touched her and she clung to it, struggling away from the hole in space.

Help me, she called to the other.

Help yourself. She pushed and the hole became a distant blot, then faded from sight. Streaks of blue and red light raced past her and she was ripped into a thousand pieces, beads on the thread of time. A thousand cries echoed in the vault of space and became one scream.

She was in the web, hovering over the Earth. She flew closer and rested above a pink cloud over her domed settlement. It was already morning below and she could see tiny specks huddled together on the highway.

You will grow stronger, the other mind whispered to her. You will travel with the other minds of space, streaking among the stars with tachyonic beings who have transformed their physical shapes ages ago. You will meet those who abandoned their bodies but lurk near their worlds, afraid to venture further. And if you are very strong, you may approach a star where the strongest dwell, ready to fight you if you intrude. They will try to fling you far away, but if you contend with them long enough, they will reveal their secrets and allow you to join them. Your mind will grow stronger with each journey, and when your body can no longer hold it, you will leave it behind, a garment which you have outgrown, and journey among the stars. You will learn all one can learn here and then move on to where there is only unending reflection. Do you understand?

Yes. She was sitting by the highway once again, held by the receptacle of her body. Neir-let was with her, clasping her hand.

“There is one more thing to do,” the Aada murmured. “Are you strong enough, or must you rest?”

“Now,” said Suzanne. Her mind floated up, brushed against Neir-let’s, then leapt from her across the Earth. She was a spark, a burst of lightning striking every human brain she found, leaping from one to the next. She seized a group of minds and flung them away, watching them leap to other minds. Then she gathered them all to her and wove them into her net, four billion strands, and flung them from the Earth. They cried out to her, some in fear, others in awe, still others in delight. She drew them back and wound the fabric around her, caressing each thread.

She was once more at Neir-let’s side. Exhausted, she rested her head on the Aada’s shoulder. Neir-let’s hand brushed her hair gently. Trapped in her body, Suzanne could still feel the bonds that linked her mind with all of humanity, and knew that they were now linked for all time. They would never be alone again, isolated and apart, shadows lingering in separate caves. However distant they might be, in thought or space, whatever they might do by themselves, they would all be joined as closely as lovers.

Neir-let stood up and removed the blue stone from the metal device. “You no longer need this,” she said, gesturing at the apparatus. The Aada pulled a pointed knife from the belt over her briefs, reached over and pricked Suzanne’s forehead, then pressed the stone against it. Suzanne bore the slight pain silently, wincing a bit, becoming calm as the stone pulsed between her temples. “This will help you to focus your mind, but soon you will not need it either.”

Suzanne lifted her hand to her head, touching the stone. Other aliens nearby were already at work, embedding the small stones in the foreheads of people seated by the road. She stood up. A group of boys, stones glittering on their brows, approached her, palms open in thankfulness. She reached out to them with her mind and embraced them, crying out silently in joy.

 

Suzanne, clothed only in a tattered robe, stood in the doorway of a dome. The Aadae would teach humanity all that they knew before leaving for another world. Then mankind would have to ready its own ships and prepare to save another race from the oblivion of death. She knew her body would not last long enough to undertake the journey, but she would be with the ships, helping them to locate beings that still huddled together in fear.

She looked around her. The body of Gabe Cardozo was nearby, propped up against a wall, face empty of expression. Rivulets of saliva ran down his beard and she smiled, knowing that his mind was out among the stars. Other people sat in small groups with Aadae, trying to learn what was necessary for their future voyage.

She had done her share, and knew no more would be asked of her. She left the dome and walked to the highway, wanting only to roam through space again. She joined the group of Aadae seated in the road, blind eyes staring upward. A naked child ran past her, heedless of the festering sores on his arms and belly.

She sat down next to the Aadae and lifted her eyes to the flaming disc overhead. Her mind floated up effortlessly, drifting through the clouds.

The turbulent yellow star ahead seemed to beckon her. I’ll be ready for you, I’ll take your wisdom with me before you fling me away. She unfurled her wings and flew toward the sun.