Use it on Mandy.

The lense of the strange contraption doesn't look too dissimilar from that you might find on a video camera, however, unlike a typical camera, it is shaped like a flat dome, Indeed, it is almost like the eye of a fish or a frog, and it feels that way, too, as you stare directly at the business end of the weapon. Suddenly you are struck, but not by any kind of bullet or laser beam, luckily. Like a bolt of lightning your memory recalls just a smidgen more of your alien benefactors' words:

"...into the eyes for best effect."

"They will be under your control.

"Use it wisely."

Some other thoughts and feelings flutter by as you come back to the present time. Whatever this is, it's not a weapon (at least not a lethal one). You fire it to the head or the eyes, if possible. A blinder? Something like a flashbang gun? No, perhaps a gun that causes disorientation or confusion. Such victims would be considered "under your control," right? But maybe they meant something else, something more literal.

Mandy stirs again, but doesn't wake from her slumber. Something in your memory informs you that it would be safe to try out the alien pistol on her, but would it be right? Is the cause of scientific curiosity worth the risk of hurting a friend? What if you've been hallucinating? What if your recollection is wrong?

To hell with it. You're a scientist for a reason, and sometimes that means beating out other scientists who might try to snatch away your discoveries. No, this little gem is all yours for the taking, and if your subconscious is to be believed, then perhaps so is Mandy.

Standing a few feet back, you take aim at the peaceful blonde's face and fire. The dark laboratory is instantly illuminated with a colorful light show as the gun's "eye" emits a stream of ethereal and iridescent rings. As long you hold the trigger the alien artifact supplies an unending array of colors falling directly upon the hapless girl's eyes and forehead, yet she does not move or wake or otherwise show signs of being affected.

After another thirty seconds of concentrated fire, you let up on the attack, lest the device run out of power when there is no recognizable way of recharging or reloading. However it is unclear as to whether the gun has done its job, or any kind of job at all.

"Mandy?" you call, checking to see that she's not hurt after being bombarded with only-God-knows-what.

"Mmm, yes?" she replies dreamily.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you get up?"

"Okay."

With that your friend finally arises and lifts herself off the coach. Dust and ash previously trapped in her hair spill mercilessly onto her already dirtied face. You wipe the soot away from her eyes, but for some reason she does not care to open her lids and take a look at you.

"Why don't you open your eyes?" you ask.

She takes it as a command: "Okay," and she opens them. Amid the darkness and the matte of gray gunk on her mug, her eyes shine more brilliantly than ever before, but not because they've inexplicably become more of that beautiful blue she's so much adored for. Within her irises, multicolored rings dance and shimmer, as if the gun's emissions were burned right into her eyes. The rings themselves are profoundly captivating, even in such a tiny space as Mandy's irises. You could almost stare at them forever if they didn't slowly begin to fade into nonexistence. It's a good thing, too, as you stagger momentarily from the indirect effect of the light-gun.

So there are changes afterall, at least, there -were- changes. Have the effects of the gun-- whatever they might be-- already evaporated with the colorful light?

"Close your eyes," you tell Mandy.

"Okay," and she closes them.

"Open your eyes."

"Okay." Again, she does as you have told her, and most notably without asking why or doing the types of things a normal person would do, like clean herself up after going through such a mess earlier this evening. She barely even blinks. Yes, the gun does more than produce a weird light show, and the effects last longer than the brilliant colors do. Mandy just might be "under your control." What does one do with power like that?

While you ponder that you send the girl off to get herself cleaned up.

"Okay."