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.