Virtual Mode

by Piers Anthony

  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.

  CHAPTER 9

  DDWNG

  THERE were more realities than Colene had dreamed of. Some were inhabited by what were probably human beings or the equivalent; most were not. They passed quickly through the inhabited ones, which tended to cluster, and lingered in the wilderness ones. Wild creatures, as a general class, were not as dangerous as civilized ones. Seqiro was able to stun any creature who threatened, or simply to change its mind. In fact, she discovered, he could generate a mental field around them that discouraged insects, so that mosquitoes and biting flies did not come close. The first time she had slapped at a mosquito he had inquired, and then sent out the no-insect thought. Just like that, no problem. He had been satisfied to use his tail to flick away pests, until then.

  She had liked him from the start. Each new thing she learned about him enhanced the feeling.

  They walked for another day and slept another night. She kept no count of the number of realities they crossed, but judged that such a day's travel should represent about five thousand of them. The calculation was simple enough: ten feet per reality, if they crossed it at right angles as they usually did. Ten miles in the day, because they walked maybe ten hours at maybe three miles an hour, taking time for eating and rest. The tens canceled out, and the number of feet in a mile—about five thousand—was the number of realities. But it didn't matter. What counted was that they were making progress toward Darius. She knew they were; she felt the strengthening rightness of the route.

  Most realities were overgrown with vegetation, but they did encounter a series of them with rocky sections, and she was able to ride her bicycle through these. Otherwise she would have been dead tired, because this was a whole lot more walking than she had done in a long time. She was lucky that her camping experience had prepared her somewhat; she knew how to conserve her strength and not push her limits.

  Seqiro, in contrast, seemed indefatigable. He had evidently made it a point to maintain his health and stamina, and it showed.

  I could carry you, he thought. It would not represent a burden to me, as you weigh little.

  "I just don't think of you as a riding horse," she said. "You're my companion."

  Granted. But a companion may walk or be carried.r />
  She smiled briefly. "If it comes to the point where we really need to get somewhere, and I'm really holding us back, then you carry me. Until then, I feel more equal afoot."

  Because in your home reality horses are beasts of burden.

  "Never to me!" she protested.

  But your mind indicates that the association is there. You are concerned with what others will think, though none are here to see.

  "Never argue cases with a mind reader!" she said ruefully. "Or with someone smarter than you."

  I am quite stupid compared to you.

  "No way! Everything I tell you, you understand right away, better than I do. So you're smarter or older or both, or just plain have more experience."

  None of these. I am your age in years: fourteen. That is mature for my kind but my experience of my reality is less than yours of yours. I depend on your mind.

  "Do you, Seqiro? Maybe you needed me to fetch your supplies and load them on you, and to open your gate. But once you got out of your reality, I became superfluous. You have just remained with me out of sympathy."

  By no means. I remain with you because I need you, and because we are compatible.

  "A girl needs a horse," she argued. "But does a horse need a girl? Wouldn't you be happier out grazing, if the grass would stay with you?"

  I would be satisfied grazing, he agreed. But I am also satisfied to be traveling with you. Since I can not safely graze, and can comfortably travel with you, this is the preferable course.

  "But you could travel just as well without me! I'm really holding you back."

  Not so. I would be unable to travel without you. This is the major reason I did not break out of my confinement and enter the Virtual Mode alone.

  "I don't believe that!" She was feeling that self-destructive urge, trying to persuade him to do without her. She didn't want to be alone; in retrospect she found her prior travel frightening. But to be a drag on this beautiful horse—that just wasn't right. "Give me one gold reason why you can't travel without me."

  My intelligence would revert to its normal level, and I would be unable to fix on a specific distant destination. I would soon be captured by any creatures who saw me as a beast of burden.

  "But you're smart! I couldn't be talking with you like this if you weren't!"

  I draw on your intelligence, which is excellent. In your absence I would retain only the memory of you, not the power of your mind. If other creatures captured me, and none shared minds with me, I would remain dull. I was dull until I made contact with your mind afar; then I became more intelligent than any of my kind.

  Colene was amazed. "You mean—it's all me? I'm really talking to myself?"

  You are talking to me, and I am as intelligent as you—because you share your mind with me. If you withheld your mind, I would indeed be just a stupid horse.

  "But your kind controls my kind, in your reality! I saw it, I felt it. Your minds make hash of our minds."

  Our leaders retain intelligent humans who provide them with good power of the mind, much as your leaders retain strong horses who provide them with rapid transportation. In your reality your riders control your horses despite the inferior strength of the humans. In mine, the horses control the humans despite the inferior intelligence of the horses. It is a matter of who is in charge, and how power is wielded.

  She was coming to accept it, reluctantly. "So you needed a smart companion, so you would understand where you were going and how to get there. And I'm that companion."

  Yes.

  "And if I'd turned out to be a bad human man, you'd still have had to go with me, because it would have been either that or stay under stall arrest."

  Yes.

  "But I turned out to be a sweet human girl, and you like that better."

  Yes.

  She turned to him. "I was joking, Seqiro."

  No.

  "I mean, about being sweet. I'm not sweet, I'm suicidal."

  Yes, you were suicidal once, and sweet. Now you are only sweet.

  "You believe that?" she demanded.

  Yes. So do you. This is why I believe it.

  She stepped into him and hugged his neck as well as she could. "I love you, Seqiro."

  Yes. I also love you.

  "But would you love me if you weren't picking it up from my mind?"

  No. That is not an emotion I would understand alone. But it is pleasant now.

  "I think I like you even better this way. You are my ideal companion."

  Yes.

  "Yes," she echoed. "We are ideal for each other. Seqiro, we must stay together!"

  Yes.

  "You keep agreeing with me, and I love it!" she exclaimed.

  Yes.

  "Yet how is it you know so much, when I don't know it?"

  A horse has good memory. I have learned much in my life, and when I am with you I am able to apply it relevantly.

  She walked on with restored attitude. Seqiro did need her, perhaps more than she needed him, and this was an enormous comfort. She had made it possible for him to escape his fate, and he would remain with her until he found what he was looking for—which he could best find only while he was with her, sharing her mind. That might be forever. That was long enough.

  THEY stepped across a boundary, and suddenly there was barrenness. As far as they could see, the forested slopes had been abruptly denuded. The air was cold and dry.

  They retreated, and the friendly trees reappeared. "What happened?" Colene asked, baffled.

  Nothing in my reality explains this. But you have thoughts of nuclear war in yours.

  "I don't think it's that," she said with a shiver. "No slag. No green glass. No deadly radiation—I hope." She glanced at him. "I don't suppose you can detect radiation with your mind?"

  Focus on it, and I will try.

  She concentrated on deadly rays, uncertain of their names or how they would feel, but sure that they would cut up the tender cells of her body and mess up her genetics. Invisible shafts of destruction, like X-rays, only worse. Would this be enough for him to fathom? She doubted it, yet she hoped, because otherwise they were at an impasse. How could they risk that barren waste, without being sure it wouldn't kill them just because they were there? They couldn't go around it, because it was evident that it extended everywhere on that planet. There had not even been any clouds. It was just so utter and final!

  I can detect such radiation, Seqiro thought. My telepathic mind is very sensitive to intrusion, and such rays would intrude. There are none.

  "Are you sure?" she asked eagerly, but knew it was a foolish question. Seqiro knew what he knew.

  Yes, I am sure. But this may be immaterial. If that waste extends across many realities, we shall not be able to cross it.

  "It can't extend forever!" she exclaimed. "My sense says that where I'm going is somewhere beyond it. Darius didn't say anything about a desert." But she realized that Darius hadn't said anything about the intervening realities, because the first time he had simply cut through directly. Only with the Virtual Mode did every reality between them become significant.

  Then we must cross.

  "But suppose it does cross many?" she asked, nipping across to the other case, as was her fashion when in doubt. "Do we have supplies to make it? I don't want to be stuck in Death Valley without water!"

  I see the bones of horses in your vision of that valley.

  "Yes! It's awful! I've never been there, but I've seen it in movies. Oh, Seqiro, what shall we do?"

  You love my company, but you would not be satisfied with it indefinitely. You must rejoin your human man. Therefore we must cross, because the alternative is not suitable.

  "Yes, we must cross," she agreed. She wished she could say it with more confidence. Where was the heroistic, die-for-her-beliefs girl she longed to be? Not here, unfortunately.

  They camped for the night, so as to be able to start early in the day. They agreed that the desert might get hot in the day, and cold at night. They might d
o best to cross it rapidly and get back into comfortable realities. But if it turned out to be more than a one-day trek, they would be better off to maintain a measured pace, resting in the heat of noon and in the cold of night, preserving their strength. They could make a three-day crossing, but not if they exhausted themselves on the first day.

  Colene fetched dry sticks of wood, and bunches of dry grass, and used one of her precious matches to light a fire. Seqiro had checked and ascertained that there were no high-powered minds in this reality, so that the fire would be safe. She was very pleased to have it, for psychological as well as physical reasons.

  While she stared into the blaze, she reviewed plans with Seqiro. He would quest ahead for minds. He could tune in to both animals and plants, but the distance depended on circumstances. A strong telepathic mind similar to his own could be contacted across a continent, while dialogue with a non-telepathic mind was limited to about half that. The Virtual Mode was similar, making the different realities seem like one; without it he would be confined to one reality. The less similar a mind was to his own, the more limited the range. Thus plants had to be fairly close for him to receive. "Plants have minds?" Colene asked, startled. Indeed they do. But not similar to yours. We find the best grazing by tuning in to the healthiest grass.

  "But doesn't the grass hurt when you bite it off? Why would it tell you where it is?"

  It does not suffer in the way you would. It is philosophical about being eaten. It accepts what is. Since grazing promotes the growth of more grass at the expense of weeds, there is a certain compatibility between us.

  Colene shook her head. "I hope so! I'd hate to have my head chewed off every week or so!"

  A plant would hate to eat through its head, or to pull its roots from the ground and walk about.

  She considered. "I see your point, maybe."

  Everything was normal, for a single reality. But Colene was unable to relax, let alone sleep, for a time. The barrenness ahead of them worried her.

  "Can we talk, Seqiro?" she asked after a bit as the darkness closed in.