“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.