Virtual Mode

CHAPTER 8—PROVOS

DARIUS resumed his quest alone, having delivered Prima to his anchor Mode. His feelings were mixed. He was not glad for the delay occasioned by this encounter, yet it had enabled him to satisfy about three quarters of his commitment to Kublai: he had found Prima, and she had a lot of information about the nature of the Modes that Kublai would find most interesting. He was now about two days behind wherever he would have been, but it was possible that he would have been captive or dead by now if it had not been for her. Probably he was ahead, overall. For one thing, he was now the first in a long time to enter a Virtual Mode and return.

Prima had fashioned for him the mirror tube she had promised. It did seem to work. He experimented by setting a package of food on the ground, stepping across the boundary, looking back to see nothing, then poking the tube cautiously across. He saw the package in the mirror, when it wasn’t visible directly. So it seemed that the way the tube excluded the light of the Mode in which he stood did enable it to carry the light of the Mode beyond. Or perhaps it was just that the device was fashioned of the substance of his anchor Mode, so was able to transmit the light along the Virtual Mode.

But it was not feasible to stop to check every Mode boundary as he went. He would take ten times as long to get anywhere if he did that. So he would have to use it judiciously, when there seemed to be danger. Such as in the region of the dominant dragons.

He moved much faster this time, using magic to take himself as far along the route as it would. Magic seemed to have no difficulty taking him across Modes, in the region of the Virtual Mode where magic was operative. Beyond that he walked rapidly, with the confidence of his prior experience in two directions.

Soon he reached the lake. He had learned a lot here, from Prima. Now he became more cautious. He needed to get safely past the region of the dragons. But he didn’t depend on the tube alone. He had another sword, and also a heavy pair of shears which could cut through cord. For this he had more confidence in the shears than the sword, because they would be faster. He also had a fair coil of cord of his own, strong enough to sustain several times his weight without breaking. Experience counted.

He came to the geographic region of the dragons, which on the Virtual Mode was the same as the Mode of the dragons. This time he intended to keep the two separate! He paused to use his mirror tube before crossing each boundary. He could even see his footprints in the soft dirt, in places. To a creature watching, he would seem to appear, walk three paces, and disappear, leaving the prints.

Now he was almost at the place where he had been netted; he recognized the tree ahead from which the net had been suspended. There was no net visible, of course, because it didn’t exist in this Mode. But the dragons, or their monkey servitors, had surely restored the damaged one, ready to trap the next unwary Mode traveler.

He moved to the side, then slowly poked his forward mirror across. He turned it, so that the image in the near mirror swept across the region.

There was the net, cunningly set so that a creature who plowed into it would cause it to close and rise, completing the trap. There was no dragon in sight, but he knew how quickly one could come when a trap was sprung.

He pondered a moment. Suppose he threw something across into the net, then crossed behind the dragon when it approached the net? No, he could not move anything from one Mode to another except his own belongings, which he had no intention of risking. It would be better to avoid the issue. He knew how dangerous those dragons were, because they understood about the Modes.

He surveyed the section carefully, turning the mirror around. There seemed to be nothing to the side of the net. Yet how could the dragons be so sure of catching something at that particular place?

He became aware of an itching on one leg. He looked down. He was standing in a bed of nettles. Their spikes seemed to be actually clinging to his trousers and seeking to stab through. That was why: the path he had been following was the only place clear of the nettles. Animals in several Modes must have found the best place through, and it made sense for him too. He had followed it before without even being conscious of the nettles.

He looked beyond. The nettles extended as far as he could see. The mystery of the net’s placement was becoming less. There really was no other way through.

He could step cautiously, and cut the anchor line, disabling the trap, and go on quickly. But adjacent Modes tended to be similar. There could be another net in the following Mode, or a pit, or something worse. He did not like this region at all.

He decided to avoid the whole thing. He retreated through the Modes until he found a way through the nettles, then proceeded down the slope toward what had been the dragon’s camp in its own Mode. He came to the field, then turned and proceeded across Modes again. There had been no trap in this vicinity, so it was probably a safe crossing. Still, he slowed and tested each Mode as he came to that vicinity.

When he passed the one showing the cages in the valley, he was relieved. There were several Modes with cages; then they faded and the countryside resumed.

He considered whether to find a way back to his original path, which proceeded most directly through Modes toward wherever he was going. But there could be other traps along it, so he continued through the field, and then through the forest, until the slope changed and the hill became a plain. Only then did he return to his direct path, slowly.

Time had passed, and nightfall was approaching. He had come a long way, and his legs were tired, but he was surprised at how fast the day had passed. He had not even paused for lunch, and was only now getting hungry. Was it possible that the length of the day changed along with other things, in other Modes? Yes, that did seem possible. Too bad he did not have a time piece of the type Colene had. It was a little device she wore on her left wrist, which helped to cover the scars there. Tiny pointers moved in it, indicating the hour of the day. Superfluous in Darius’ Mode, of course, where things happened when they happened. But now that time might be changing, such a device might have enabled him to verify just how much difference there was.

Colene. She kept returning to his thoughts. On one level he recognized this quest as foolish, because he had already found the answer. He could go home and marry Prima and have an excellent career as Cyng of Hlahtar. She was older than he, but that was irrelevant; Hlahtar’s wife was neither for love nor offspring, but for a ready source of joy to spread. Prima was the best possible source. But he was intent on Colene, who offered him none of that. All she offered him was private love.

Well, that was what he wanted. He would fetch Colene, then see about Prima. It might be foolish, but it was what he wanted. At least he knew that Kublai had a good situation during his absence.

He came to a lake at dusk, or perhaps the shore of a sea. There was no such body of water within walking distance in his Mode, but he had long since recognized that though geography changed gradually, it also changed significantly, and it resembled that of his home only in the immediate vicinity of his anchor. Were he to become trapped in the Mode in which he stood at this moment, and walk back through it the way he had come until he reached the spot where his anchor was supposed to be, he would probably find a completely different geography. The Modes changed vertically as well as horizontally, as if each sliver of mica had a different pattern that matched that of its neighbor slivers only when they were close. It was possible that when he had made the first foray into Colene’s Mode, it had been to the same geographic spot in her Mode as the one he had left in his.

He searched out a tree whose larger branches spread from one Mode to another. That was ideal. Prima had shown him that a tree was a good place to spend the night, removed from nocturnal creatures of the ground. But attack could come, and the best way to deal with it was to avoid it—by stepping into the next Mode. If he could do so without leaving the tree, so much the better.

He drank from the lake, washed, and ate from his pack. He realized that this must be a lake, because the water was not salty. But he could not see across it. Then he drew out his light blanket, climbed into the tree, braced himself, wrapped himself, and settled down for sleep. He thought of Prima, who had slept in his embrace, sharing warmth. At the time he had wished it could have been Colene, but now he realized that Prima herself had been good company. She had been intelligent and practical and not finicky about niceties, an easy person to travel with despite the awkwardness of their arms being constantly bound together. She was not at all the kind of woman he had been looking for, consciously, but very much the kind he actually needed. Colene, in contrast, was young and pretty and devoted, matching his desire, but quite unsuitable for marriage to the Cyng of Hlahtar. So said his logic. So much for logic. He wanted Colene.

As he was nodding off, something occurred to him that woke him up again. If Colene was at the same spot on the globe as he, one Mode directly over the other, so that his first foray with the Chip had plunged him straight up or down—how could he reach her by traveling on the slant? He was walking horizontally, stepping down into each new infinitely thin Mode in the course of three paces. It wasn’t a physically vertical thing, or the slopes of hills would have put him into new Modes at a great rate. But he was definitely moving across the terrain. By the time he reached Colene’s Mode, he should be far from the spot on the globe he had started at, and therefore far from her. How would he be able to find her?

No, he had to be near her when he reached her Mode, because she had an anchor there. So that should be no problem. But how was it possible to travel horizontally and arrive vertically?

Then he remembered another part of the explanation the Cyng of Pwer had given, whose significance had bypassed him at the time. The Virtual Mode was like a plane cutting through the Modes at an angle, but it was not infinite. It was really a plane segment bounded by the five anchors. Like a pentagon, or roughly circular in outline. He could be walking around the edge of it. When he got halfway around, there would be Colene.

The image helped reassure him, but it did not do the whole job. This Virtual Mode was really not a simple thing, and some of its incidental aspects, such as the business of drinking the water of foreign Modes along the way, were tricky. His image might be all wrong.

At any rate, he slept.

IN the morning Darius resumed his travel. He traveled around the lake. At one point he encountered a family of otterlike animals who spooked at his appearance and swam rapidly away. At another he came across a small dragon or large lizard, similarly shy. But he became wary, because where there were small dragons there could also be large ones.

Beyond the lake was a settled region. At first it was just a planted field, but as he passed by it, successive Modes brought it to more intense cultivation and a road appeared. This looked human, but his wariness increased. Human beings would not necessarily be friendly. In fact, he felt far more at ease among the animals of the wilderness, for very few of them represented any danger to him, and those few could be fairly readily avoided. But human beings were potentially worse than the dragons. Certainly he would not walk into the center of a village and announce himself!

He walked clear of the fields and found a forested section. The trees were unlike those he knew, being yellow of trunk and blue of leaf, but a tree of any color remained reassuring and protective. This was no jungle, and there was little undergrowth, but it did provide some privacy for his passage.

Then he spied a woman. She was standing in the center of a glade as if expecting him. She wore a small hat with two very long projections like the antennae of insects, a gray woolen sweater, an ankle-length brown knit dress, and high black boots laced up the front. She had what was evidently a traveling bag beside her. She was old, perhaps sixty. What was on her mind?

He approached her cautiously, following the sideways channel of this Mode. He could have stepped into the next Mode and avoided the contact, but she had seen him and he preferred to be polite as long as it was safe to be so. “A greeting,” he said, speaking in his own language.

She said something indecipherable. Her language was not only different, it was weirdly different; he could not tell whether she had uttered a greeting, a curse, or gibberish. She picked up her bag. It had straps, and he realized that it was actually a kind of backpack, which she now donned. She was certainly prepared!

He tried again in Colene’s language. “Hi.”

She smiled and put her hand on his arm. She stepped forward, drawing him along with her.

She was evidently harmless, and of course she could not go any distance with him. Having tried to communicate, and failed, he decided simply to walk along with her, and step through to the next Mode when he reached the boundary. He would fade from her sight and touch, and she would think she had had a supernatural experience. An unkind trick to play on her, perhaps, but kinder than rejecting her gesture outright. It was evident that she expected to go somewhere with him.

They walked back to the point where he had been when he had first seen her, then turned to resume his original route. They stepped through the invisible boundary together. Darius did a doubletake. She was still there! Still walking beside him, her hand on his arm.

But Prima had been able to cross Modes with him, as long as she touched him. He had understood that this was because she was of his Mode, or very close to it, despite not being an anchor person. This woman was not close at all. Had his notion been wrong? Could a person of another Mode cross simply by maintaining contact with an anchor person on the

Virtual Mode? So it seemed to be.

But that would mean that she would be stranded in a Mode that was foreign to her. It would be wrong to leave her like that.

He turned and stepped back into the woman’s Mode, bringing her along with him. “I must go where you can not,” he told her firmly, withdrawing his arm from her hand. “I am sorry. I am unable to explain, but I must leave you here.” He stepped across, alone.

He looked back. The woman was gone, of course; she did not exist in this Mode. The glade remained, and there was a small creature in a tree that he thought had not been there in the other glade. It must have watched him appear, disappear, and reappear, with an understandable perplexity.

Then the woman reappeared. She had stepped through after him.

Darius just stared. She had done it on her own! No physical contact! But that was impossible, unless—

Then he realized what the answer had to be. She was an anchor person! There were five of them, and he did not know the identity of three. It had not occurred to him that he would meet any of them, but if he truly was walking around the edge of a figurative plate, he would indeed encounter other anchor folk.

Somehow he had not expected an old woman, despite expecting nothing. What was he to do with her? He couldn’t take her with him!

She took his arm again and urged him forward. She did want to go with him, and seemed to know the situation. It was hard for him to say no, because he couldn’t speak her language and couldn’t stop her from following him. That did not make the situation any less awkward.

He sighed inwardly and resumed walking. What was to be, was to be.

“Yes,” she said.

He was startled again. He stopped in place. “You speak my language?”

“No.”

“But you are speaking it now! You—”

She uttered a mellifluous stream of unintelligibility. Evidently she knew only a few of his words.

“How did you learn ‘yes’ and ’no‘?”

“Yes, future,” she said. “No, past.”

Now he understood the words, but could not fathom the meaning. She might not mean the same thing by those words that he did. But in case she did, it could mean that she expected to travel with him from now on, and had not done so in the past.

They resumed walking. The forest disappeared, but the cultivated fields were gone; they had gone beyond the group of Modes in which these folk operated.

“Provos,” she said.

He glanced at her. She removed her hand from his arm and tapped herself above her slight bosom.

Oh. He tapped himself. “Darius,” he said.

They stepped into another Mode. Abruptly her hand tightened on his arm. “No!” she said, trying to hold him back.

He stopped. “What’s the matter?”

She merely shook her head, unable to clarify the matter.

He looked around. There was nothing threatening in view. “I have somewhere to go,” he said. He started to step forward again.

“No!” She hauled him back again.

Could there be something in the next Mode that she knew about and he could not see? He brought out his mirror tube and extended it forward. But as he started to take a cautious step, she stopped him a third time.

He almost lost his balance. The end of the tube dipped to touch the ground.

A pointed stake shot up from the ground, right beside the end of the tube. The end of the stake was discolored.

“A poison trap!” Darius exclaimed. “If I had stepped there, it would have stabbed my leg!” Or worse.

He put away the tube, found a stick, and poked beside the stake. In a moment another stake shot up, and then another. There was a row of them slanting across this Mode segment.

“I think you just saved my health or life,” he told Provos, shaken. “How did you know?”

But she now seemed to be ignoring the situation, as if it were of no further concern.

He walked to the side, beyond the stakes, and poked some more. There was no further reaction from the ground, and Provos did not balk him. The danger seemed to be limited to that one segment.

All the same, he used the tube to check the next Mode carefully before crossing. This escape had been quite too narrow!

Nothing was in view. They crossed cautiously. He fetched a stick in this Mode and poked ahead. There was nothing. The stakes seemed to be an artifact of a single Mode, in much the way the net of the dragons had been.

They continued until the afternoon grew late. Darius didn’t know how to ask Provos about camping arrangements, so he simply went ahead and trusted her to protest if she chose.

And protest she did, after he located a suitable tree to use for the night. At first he thought it was because she was prudish about climbing or sharing warmth, but it seemed that she was becoming increasingly nervous about this whole region. He saw no reason for it, but after the experience with the stakes he took it seriously.

He offered to make the same camp in the Mode they had just crossed. To that she agreed. She opened her bag and produced what seemed to be homemade bread and a sweet spread, which she shared with him. He wasn’t sure whether he could eat it, because of the problem retaining foreign food when crossing Modes, but realized that if it had traveled with her through all the prior Modes, it was safely on the Virtual Mode and should remain with them. The substance of her Mode was as real for him as the substance of his own or of Colene’s. That was the thing about the anchors; they really were firm.

“Thank you,” he said. She did not acknowledge.

They performed their separate natural functions in different nooks of the Mode, then mounted the tree and shared his blanket. Provos seemed to be entirely at ease with the closeness, which surprised him. He was considerably more at ease than he would have been before the experience with Prima.

Prima. Provos. There was a certain similarity of names. Did it mean anything? He decided that it didn’t. It was a minor coincidence until proven otherwise.

IN the morning they got down and unkinked their bodies. Provos was old but spry; she must have had camping experience. Indeed she produced a set of stones which struck a spark that started a fire, and they were able to have a hot meal of some kind of tasty tubers she brought from her bag. She was certainly doing her part.

Then they doused the fire, got organized, and stepped back across the boundary.

Darius stared. There were footprints where there had been none before; something had come here in the night. Huge claws had dug into the ground, as if a giant bird had landed here. The bark of the tree they would have slept in was torn away in patches.

“Something came here and smelted our traces,” he said, awed. “It scratched the ground where we stood, and scratched at the tree where I had started to set up for the night. By the marks, it was huge and predatory: a dragon or carnivorous bird. I think we would have been dead.”

But Provos seemed unconcerned, hardly noticing the marks. She was just interested in going on.

He refused to settle for that. “What is it with you?” he demanded. “Twice you may have saved my life, yet you act as if it is nothing.” He pointed to the marks, making her look. “How did you know?”

“Yes, future,” she said. “No, past.”

“You said that before, but I don’t know what it means!”

She tried to explain. “I yes future. You yes past. I no past. You no future.”

He tried to make sense of this, in the context of what he had seen. She was yes future and no past. He was no future and yes past. He had no future and she did? He couldn’t accept that! And that couldn’t be it, because the corollary would be that she had no past while he did. The only thing that made remote sense was that he could not foresee the future, while she—

She could see the future? She had precognition? That did seem to be the case! And the barrier of language prevented her from telling him exactly what it was that she saw, so she was able to warn him only by crude gestures. But that could not be the whole of it. What did she mean about no past?

She could not see the past?

He walked on with her, his mind laboring. How was it possible for her not to know the past? She would have no memory! She would be completely unconcerned with yesterday.

Which was exactly the attitude she showed. Concern for the future, none for the past. It seemed unbelievable, but she was from an alien Mode, and its ordinariness in the physical aspect might mask a truly amazing difference in the mental aspect.

He reviewed specifics as they went. She had balked at one place, and there had been a deadly trap there. She had surely not been there before; she was as new to the Virtual Mode as he, and had been waiting for someone to come along it, so she would not have to go alone. She had probably been waiting for days, and acted the moment she saw him. Why had she not been afraid of the stranger? Because she had foreseen his arrival! She might not be concerned about what was past, but she knew she would be traveling with him, so she had made sure to be there at the right time.

Yet she had not seemed to foresee the poisoned stakes, exactly. She had just been very nervous. It was the same with the monster of the night. She had not been concerned about that immediately; only after camping preparations were well along had she insisted on leaving the area. It didn’t seem to be straight anticipation of future events.

She had likened her situation to his. “I yes future, you yes past.” He did not foresee the past, he remembered it, and the farther in the past it was, the foggier his memory tended to become, unless it was something important. Could she remember the future? “I no past, you no future.” She could not remember the past, though she might have a notion of it by judging from the present. If she was here with him, and remembered what they would be doing in the future, she could safely assume that they had met in the past and had some kind of understanding. Just as he could assume that he would be traveling with her for a while.

But that monster of the night—that was not a threat to be forgotten quickly! Why had it taken her a while to catch onto it?

Because it happened in a foreign Mode! He could not remember the past of Modes he had not been in; she could not remember the future of Modes she would not be in. But if he stayed in a Mode for a while, and got some experience in it, he could remember that much of it. She must have become acclimatized to it, gradually, and then realized that something terrible was about to happen there. So she had warned him.

When they moved into the adjacent Mode, that feeling did not come on her, so she relaxed.

It did seem to make sense. But if so, there would always be some problems. How could they relate, if she remembered only what they would be doing, and he remembered only what they had been doing?

He saw Provos nodding as if she had just come to understand something. Yet there was nothing unusual about the landscape of the Modes they were passing through, and they had not spoken.

But maybe they were about to speak, and she was remembering that! He was concerned with the problem of relating to a woman who could not remember their dialogue after it happened—but could remember it coming.

So maybe there was a way. “Provos,” he said—and realized that she had started turning to him before he spoke. Yes, she was remembering that he was about to say something to her! “Night, monster,” he said, making clawing motions with a hand.

She looked concerned. “Monster,” she repeated.

“You saved me,” he said. He took her hand, put it on his own arm, and acted as if he were being pulled back. “Escaped monster.”

“Monster no?” she asked.

“Monster yes,” he said. He repeated the gesture. “Then monster no. You warned me.”

“Day monster no,” she said.

Which should mean that no monster was in their immediate future. Except that her perception might be limited to the Mode they were now in. So there could be a monster in the next one. If something threatened in the next step, she might pick it up, as she had with the stakes; but if it threatened in several hours, she might take a while to attune to it.

Did that make sense? Suppose something awful had happened several hours ago in one Mode; would he forget about it in the last half hour before they left that Mode? He didn’t think so. Also, if she remembered something bad that was about to happen, and told him, and he changed it, then it wouldn’t happen. So how could she remember it? It seemed like paradox.

But maybe not. If something she remembered didn’t happen, her memory should change to what would happen. But it might be foggy, because of the change. So it could be a while before it clarified for her. The future was not a simple reversal of the past; it was mutable, so her memories could be changed or confused at times. The more distant something was, the longer it might take her to orient on it. Thus a danger in the next step she could catch immediately, but one several hours away would not clarify until she had more experience with the Mode in which it was to occur. Not just because it took her time to attune, but because the more time passed, the more chances there were for it to be changed, fogging her memory. She had to get closer to the event to be sure of it.

At any rate, he hoped he had a workable system. He had just informed her of what had recently happened, and she had informed him of what was about to happen. She had remembered what he was going to tell her, so knew something of the prior adventures despite not being able to remember them directly. She had remembered his telling her. Tomorrow he would tell her again, so she could always have a notion of what had been going on. Meanwhile she had told him that nothing bad was about to happen, and he would remember that. When she told him that there would be danger, he would be suitably warned by his memory of her words. It seemed like a feasible way to relate. If he had it straight. His mind tended to stretch out of shape as he reviewed the matter.

But if he were correct about the way the new Modes cut off her awareness of the future, she would not do him much good while they were actually traveling. Only when they camped for a time. But that was when they most needed warning of danger, so they could sleep.

His thoughts mostly settled, he resumed his awareness of the terrain. They were out of the forest and were climbing a gentle slope overgrown with waist-high plants whose leaves were pale blue. They made a faint jingling noise as the progress of the two human beings pushed them aside. At irregular intervals there were outcroppings of the underlying rock, which was red. It was a pretty enough scene.

They crested the hill and started down the other side. The plants shifted from blue to purple, and the outcrops to pink, as the Modes shifted. The sky was turning deep green.

Suddenly the two of them were falling. Darius felt a moment of panic. Then his feet struck steeply sloping pink sand. He tried to stand, but could not, so he tried to sit, and it made little difference; he continued sliding down. Provos was beside him, doing her best to maintain a decorous attitude despite being out of control. They were rapidly descending into a huge pit.

Another drop, and another rescue by a steep slope. Then they landed in a pile of pink sand. They climbed out of it and surveyed their situation.

This was evidently an artificial excavation of enormous scope. On three sides it rose so steeply that climbing it was out of the question; they had been fortunate that it had even slowed their fall. The fourth side was flat: a terrace, narrowing into a level road leading out between the towering pink sides.

So why hadn’t Provos warned him of this? Because they had stepped into it in a new Mode. Because it was artificial, there was no natural warning, nothing they could see ahead. This ground had once been whole, and now it was hollow, and they had stepped from the ground of one Mode into the emptiness of the next. He had known that she could not anticipate such a thing, yet had somehow depended on it, thinking their periodic descriptions of past and future events would suffice. Only when they remained for a time in a single Mode would that system work well.

Who had dug this monstrous hole? Probably some civilization similar to the one Colene shared. She had told him how they mined deep in the ground, sometimes leaving just such pits as this. So maybe he was getting close to her Mode. That was encouraging.

But not identical, because this was not her village with its paved streets and angular houses. So it was best to get on by this pit before those who dug it arrived. Trying to go back was hopeless; they couldn’t even stand on that slope, and could never climb to the top.

Provos evidently agreed. They dusted themselves off and started walking across the level base.

Suddenly there was a giant thing bearing down on them. It resembled one of the traveling machines Colene had described, but was much larger and fiercer.

Both of them stepped hastily back across the boundary. The machine vanished. At least it was easy to avoid, with the Modes.

Darius got out his mirror tube and poked it across the boundary. The machine had passed beyond them, and was now stopping beside another machine, one with a giant set of jaws on the end of a long neck.

They stepped across again. Now he saw that the jawed machine was gouging great mouthfuls of orange sand from the base of the pit, and spitting them into the back of the traveling machine. So that was how the pit was made. The machines must have been working at it for a long time, evidently wanting the pretty sand.

They crossed another boundary. The sand brightened a trace, now possessing more of a yellow component. The pit seemed larger, and there were several dark blue machines eating at the edge of it. All the machines of this section of the Virtual Mode were hungry for this sand!

It seemed that all they needed to do was keep walking across the pit until they reached the far side. Then—Then what? The far side looked as forbidding as the near side. They would not be able to climb out of it either.

They would have to walk down the road, which surely led out. It was not going in the direction Darius wanted, but once they were free of the pit they could recover their course.

Darius turned to follow the road, and Provos went with him. Now they were remaining longer in one Mode, because the road slanted slowly across it.

A green machine came charging out of the pit. They stepped hastily into the next Mode, and the vehicle vanished. But there was a gray machine coming from the opposite direction. If they ducked back, they could get run over by the first. So they ran on across and jumped into the next Mode before the gray machine reached them.

Here there were yellow machines. These were smaller, though still formidable, and looked like huge insects with antennae. The antennae rotated, seeming to orient on the two living folk. Then two machines started toward them.

They ran on across, to the edge of the road where the next boundary would take them away. But something alarming happened.

They bounced off the boundary.

Darius stared at Provos. She seemed as dismayed as he. This had never happened before.

The machines were closing in on them. As one, Darius and Provos turned and ran back the way they had come, barely crossing the prior boundary before the machines arrived.

Another gray machine was coming. This one slowed, seeming to see them. It too had antennae.

“I don’t like this,” Darius muttered. “These things are aware of us!”

Provos agreed. But it wasn’t safe to cross this Mode in front of the machine; it was too big and fast. They had to duck back into the Mode they had just left.

The two yellow machines were waiting. As soon as the two living folk reappeared in this Mode, the machines resumed motion, closing in.

Provos was becoming increasingly agitated. Darius knew that meant that she was starting to tune in to future trouble here. They had to get away!

Their best chance seemed to be to cross rapidly through the Mode of the gray machines, so as to be out of this squeeze. He grabbed Provos’ arm and pointed. But she demurred. She pointed down this Mode, at right angles.

If she was tuning in, she knew what she was doing. He nodded agreement, and they ran in that direction.

The yellow machines accelerated, quickly overtaking them. But they ran straight ahead, while the road curved, and the mechanical devices couldn’t follow well. There was a ditch which was treacherous for wheels on frames to navigate. They had to swerve aside, and the two living folk got clear.

But other machines were now approaching from the opposite direction. One of them had large wheels that could handle the terrain.

Provos ran on, though she was now breathing hard and holding her side. She was an old woman, and evidently not in condition for such activity. But she must remember something to make this effort worthwhile.

Darius drew close to her, matched her steps, and put his right arm around her midsection. He drew her in close and lifted, taking some of her weight off her feet. This might have seemed unduly familiar, but she would remember that he had done this without familiar intent.

So it seemed. She put her left arm around him and leaned into him. Now they ran as one, with his legs assuming much of the burden. He was used to walking and running, and could handle this for a short distance.

A building came into sight. It was large, with several metal lacework towers rising from its top. It crossed their path, and they were headed straight for it.

But if the machines were chasing them now, what would happen when they reached that building? Surely there were many more machines in there!

The machines cut them off. Now Provos urged him to the left, across the boundary. The yellow machines vanished.

The ground was now flat, without the ditches that limited the machines, and the gray machines were lurking. They were clustered in the vicinity the two living folk had left, but quickly reoriented and renewed the pursuit.

Provos kept running. As the gray machines caught up, she drew the two of them back to the Mode of the yellow machines.

They were now beyond the machines that had cut them off, and close to the building. This was not the kind of structure that creatures of flesh lived in; it was formed of a metal lattice, with spaced supports. He could see through the gaps into its center, where machines and parts of machines seemed to be clustered. Perhaps this was where the machines were bred, birthed, and trained.

Provos drew free of him, squatted, and picked up a handful of orange sand. She stuffed it in whatever pockets she possessed. Darius, bemused, did the same. He had to trust her memory of the immediate future, as she had to trust his memory of the past. Then she put her hands on the edges of the lattice, and started climbing. Darius did the same, moving to her right to climb, though the point of this exercise baffled him. The machines would only trap them on the building.

Indeed, yellow machines were moving inside the building, on a platform that was rising by itself. The machines would reach the top before the people did.

Darius tried to find better climbing by moving to his right, but his shoulder banged into the impenetrable wall that was the next Mode. He didn’t know what to make of that; surely the machines had not found a way to block it off to travelers!

Provos lost a handhold on her left and hung for a moment in doubt. He quickly steadied her with his left arm. Then she gestured with her left hand, and he saw it pass right through the metal of the wall. No wonder she had missed her hold! The building did not exist in the next Mode, though they could see it clearly from this one. On the ground it didn’t matter if they strayed across a boundary, but here it could be fatal.

This minor misadventure had cost them time, and the platform with the machines was passing them. They would surely be made captive or worse when they reached the roof.

Provos held on firmly with one hand, and with the other dug into a pocket. She brought out some sand and hurled it at the side of the platform, where toothed wheels turned. So Darius did the same. Was this a form of magic, a ritual throwing of sand? If so, it was useless, for this was obviously a nonmagical Mode. But he reminded himself again that she could remember the future, so should know what she was doing to make it memorable. He heaved another handful of sand into the works.

There was an unkind sound. The platform shuddered and slowed. Sparks flew out.

Now it was making sense. The gears did not like sand. They climbed onto the top of the building, and walked across the metal roof. They remained carefully in their three-paces-wide channel, because the Mode on one side was an impenetrable wall, and on the other was a drop-off. It was a big building, and a fall from it would be devastating.

Provos went to the tower that was in their channel. But it was near the boundary. In fact, half of it was across the boundary; they had to pass it to the right, lest they fall.

But she did not try to pass it. Instead she started climbing it, though she was evidently tired. Her backpack surely weighed her down, with all the running and climbing. Yet the tower went nowhere except up. What was her urgency?

“This thing is only half anchored!” he warned. “It will fall over with your weight!” But then he realized that this was not the case. The tower was quite firmly anchored, in this Mode. The fact that they could not touch its other side did not mean that it lacked that support. They could climb it, until it narrowed into nothing. Then what?

The yellow machines were getting their platform un-jammed. Soon they would be here.

Darius shrugged and started up the tower after her. He hoped she was remembering something that he was unable to foresee, because otherwise they were doomed.

They climbed high on the narrowing tower. Now there was scarcely room for them, even in tandem, because of the half that didn’t exist for them. A stiffening breeze tugged at them, making Darius even less comfortable about the height. What could possibly be the point of this?

Meanwhile the machines reached the roof and clustered around the base of the tower. It seemed that they could not climb it, but surely they had ways to get at those who did. Probably the only thing that had saved the two living folk so far had been the machines’ desire to capture them alive. Maybe the machines, like the dragons, were interested in learning how to cross Modes, and thought that firm persuasion would elicit the secret from the travelers.

Provos stopped. He looked up and saw that she was struggling to get something from her pack. But she was now so tired that she couldn’t twist around without being in danger of falling.

“I’ll do it!” he said. “What do you want?”

She made a gesture of throwing.

“Sand,” he said. He dug into a pocket and threw some sand down on the machines.

She shook her head no.

“Throw something else? But all we have is our supplies, and we need those.”

She nodded yes.

Darius gazed down at the machines. Now they were bringing something with a portable platform. They would be getting up here soon.

He sighed. He drew out a package of bread. He opened it and tore off one chunk with his teeth. He wanted to eat it, but this mouthful was for another purpose. What a waste! He threw it in the direction the woman had indicated.

The chunk flew out and down. It bounced against the invisible wall of the next Mode.

Provos signaled for him to throw again, higher.

He tore off another chunk, and threw it in a higher arc.

It disappeared.

“Yes!” Provos cried.

It took Darius a moment to realize the significance of what had happened. That last chunk had passed above the blank wall and entered the next Mode!

The woman made another gesture of throwing. He worked it out. They had been unable to enter that Mode because there was no deep pit there. They could not step into solid rock. But if they got above the level of the ground, they could jump onto it!

Provided they knew the exact level. Too low, and they would strike the barrier and drop way down. Too high, and they would make it, but hurt themselves landing.

He ripped off more bread and began throwing in earnest. He found the level, about a body length below him. But it was also a body length away from him. How could they reach it?

The rope! If they could tie it to the tower above, they might be able to swing across on it. He could push Provos so that she would go far enough, and then she could let go on the other Mode.

He reached over his shoulder and plunged his hand into his pack. He found the rope and brought it out. It was fine thin cord, light but strong, with plenty of length. But how was he to tie it to the tower above them? There really wasn’t room for him to climb up past Provos, and if he did, it would take time, and the machines’ capture-platform was now in place and rising toward them. There wasn’t enough time!

He gazed up. At the top, the tower had a crosspiece with hooked ends. That should be ideal to tie the rope to, had he the time and position to do it.

Provos looked down. She extended one hand. She wanted the rope?

He passed up one end. She worked the rope around her upper body and through part of the tower, tying herself to it. Then she leaned back, freeing both hands while her body was held by the rope. She formed a double loop in the cord, with an intricate knot. She fished a solid little package out of her pack and tightened the loops around it. Then she untied herself and passed the end of the rope down to him.

Darius realized that she had effectively weighted the end of the rope. Now he knew what to do. He held on firmly to the tower with his left hand, leaned out, and hurled the end straight up as hard as he could. He let the cord play out, holding tightly on to the other end.

It sailed up beyond the crosspiece, and down again, missing. He borrowed from Provos’ technique, tying himself to the tower so as to free both hands. Then he hauled up the rope, leaned way out, and threw it with a more looping motion. This time his aim was good, but not his power; it passed just under the crosspiece.

He tried a third time, and a fourth, while the machine platform slowly came up at him. The fourth time did it: the rope passed over and swung down beyond. The weighted end came down and he caught it. He drew on the two ends, working the rope out to the edge of the crosspiece, where it was caught by the hook. Now they were ready to swing, and none too soon, because the machine platform was uncomfortably close.

Provos took the rope again. She removed the package and returned it to her pack. Then she formed a harness with the two ends, and put her legs through it. She certainly knew how to do things with that rope! In a moment she was dangling free of the tower, seated in the harness.

Darius climbed up, glad to get his feet farther away from the machines. He gave her a push to start her swinging. She swung out toward the invisible wall, then back past the tower, and disappeared.

Darius stared, then realized that this was not disaster. She had passed into the Mode of the gray machines. There was no building or tower there, but she was anchored by the rope to this yellow-machine Mode. He could see the rope above, angling down and disappearing about halfway down.

Sure enough, in a moment she reappeared. First her bent knees and feet showed, then the rest of her. She swung past him, and he put out his hand and shoved her farther in the direction she was going. She went farther toward the wall Mode, but did not disappear.

In a moment she was passing him again, the other way. He gave her knees a shove, but it wasn’t straight, and it started her turning. That couldn’t be helped.

He looked down. The machines had stopped advancing. Their platform was still. Their feelers seemed to be focused on the vanished woman. They didn’t know what was happening. Well, he would be surprised too, if a machine came through his home region, climbed a tower, dangled from it, and started swinging in and out of existence.

Provos reappeared. He gave her another good shove. She swung far out—and half of her disappeared. Her feet remained in view, evidently snagging on the wall.

Then she was coming back. “I gone!” she exclaimed. She remembered what was about to happen.

Pleased, he gave her another shove back, and another forward when she reappeared. This time she lifted her legs and disappeared entirely, and the rope went slack without returning. She must have put her feet down on the ground, stopping her swing.

Then the rope swung back to him, the harness empty. He caught it and worked his way into the harness.

Now the machines resumed activity, evidently catching on that the prey was escaping. The platform rose again.

Darius shoved off from the tower. He did not swing out far enough. He swiped at the tower, trying to increase his motion, and set himself spinning.

He swung into emptiness. There a dizzying distance below him was the pit, with the gray machines waiting. Then he was back passing the tower. He shoved at it again as well as he could, slowing his spinning but not gaining much on his swinging.

Then he was back over the gray machines. One was aiming what seemed to be a metal tube at him. From the tube came a rope which narrowly missed him. They were trying to catch him in the air and haul him down to them!

He swung back into the yellow-machine Mode. The platform was almost up to the level of his feet, and a machine with big pincers was reaching up. The pincers appeared to be padded so as not to do damage; they wanted to catch him, not kill him, as he had suspected. They were coming close to succeeding, because he simply could not get himself swinging enough.

Swinging. Something clicked. The children’s game with swings—they could pump themselves up higher without touching anything else.

He started pumping, extending his feet and moving his body. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He gained momentum.

A pincer reached up to catch his passing leg. He kicked it away. That started him spinning, and he was unable to pump. Trouble! He reached out and banged a hand into the tower as he passed, trying desperately to get straightened out. He succeeded, but at the expense of momentum.

He resumed pumping—and saw the yellow pincers directly in front of him. He could not avoid them this time!

He held his breath, tucked his feet under him, then swung them out in a two-legged kick. He smashed into the pincer machine, shoving it back. The platform moved, its support tower beginning to fall.

As Darius pumped himself up, he saw the gray machines taking aim again, and the platform falling, in alternate Modes. Then he broke through and caught a glimpse of a new green world, its surface barely under him. He could not quite stop at it; he needed one more good swing. But those swings were dangerous!

Then hands caught his feet. Provos had tackled his legs, trying to hold him there. But if he dragged her back with him—

She managed to hold him long enough so that he could pitch his upper body forward and brace against the ground. He struggled out of the harness.

Provos caught the harness, quickly undid it, and let go of one rope. She pulled, and the other rope disappeared. Soon the length of it had been hauled in. They had made it, with their equipment.

LATER, several more Modes away from the pit and at a suitable camping site, they talked. Provos no longer remembered the business with the tower and rope, but he told her of it, and she told him that nothing dangerous was to occur during their stay in this particular Mode.

“Provos come why?” he asked her. Now he was sure that she was an asset to his journey, and wanted to know what she was getting from it. Was she along for the duration, or would she be deserting him when she found what she wanted?

She tried to convey a confusing concept, and it seemed that she had forgotten part of it, because it was in the past. But his memory of their meeting, and her memory of what he was to tell her in the future, enabled him finally to put it together. Her memory of future events was hazy or null, but she did have memories of him, because he was to be a constant part of her next few days.

Provos suffered from amnesia. She had been able to remember her future perfectly, in as much detail as she desired, right up until a mysterious blank. As it approached, she viewed it with increasing trepidation, until she realized that it was not necessarily the end. Perhaps it was better viewed as a great new adventure occurring after some mishap such as a blow to the head. Since she could not avoid it, she decided to approach it positively. So she had packed her things, as for a long journey, and told her friends she was going to another region. That way they were not concerned about the future absence of her presence in their lives.

Now she was in that adventure, and enjoying it. She still suffered amnesia of the future, but not as badly. She understood the reason: because she had no future experience in most of the Modes they were crossing.

She had no plans for the future. She would know the future when she remembered it, and she was content to wait for that memory. It was actually rather exciting, being unable to tell what she was doing tomorrow, in contrast to the deadly dull existence she suspected she had been having in the past. She was not concerned about Darius’ convenience, as she did not remember him telling her he disliked her company. When he preferred to move on alone, she would know it before the time came, and they would part.

Indeed, Darius realized that he did not object to her company. He was not looking for any personal complications along the way, and she presented few, which were more than compensated for by her brief insights of mischief forthcoming. She was a good companion for this treacherous journey.

“But how do you feel about your own death?” he asked. “Will you see it coming?”

She certainly hoped so! She was not at all disturbed by his question. It turned out that she feared her death no more than he feared his birth. It was merely one end of a person’s existence. But that part of her life she could not remember, which was in the past, she preferred not to think about, for it was filled with unkind mystery and foreboding, as well as with hopeful speculation. Exactly as was his future for him.

“But now you have a taste of what my perspective is like,” he told her. “Because you can not anticipate most of your future either.”

She agreed that was frightening, but she would bear up under the challenge of it, knowing that it was bound to be alleviated one way or another before too long. She put her hand on his, with pity and comfort for his misfortune to be locked always in the past.

“Thank you,” he said, moving in mixed manner. But she had already lost the dialogue, and proceeded in a businesslike manner to settling in for the night.