Chapter VII

Rick could not shake off a chill sense of foreboding as the mass of the city was left behind. It did not seem possible they could so easily escape a monster whose tentacles encircled the earth. Might it not even now be watching them through unseen eyes in the walls of the great buildings? When they had gone far enough would it not jerk them back, willing to play a cat-and-mouse game with them until they no longer had energies enough left to continue the fight?

He told himself that he was taking too despairing a view. Deva had lived all her life here, and had been trained as a technical designer of circuits such as those employed by the Machine. She understood its workings, and knew that it could be misled and deceived.

He hoped, too, that someday men would do more than just run away from the Machine. A vague but burning desire had been kindled to activity within him. He would have given his life to be an instrument, no matter how small, in its destruction. But he knew that in his lifetime such a rebellion by the many might well remain only a dream.

He turned his attention to the road as they cleared the advancing edges of the residential section and moved out onto the express highway, heading south.

Deva slowed the car. “We’ll be checked at the first automatic station,” she said. “The scanners will note that this is a car from the city and record our basic identification. We’ll have to abandon the car before then. But that won’t be safe, either--until after dark.”

His spirits rose as darkness descended and the countryside became more open. The sense of confinement, which had been with him ever since he entered the city, dropped away and he began to feel as free as he had felt during all the years of his childhood in the open country of Lonestar.

“We’ll have to turn off soon,” said Deva. “Keep on the alert for some kind of trail that might lead down to the river. We’ll run the car into the water if we can get it safely down the bank.”

A few minutes later, in the glow of the car’s headlights, Rick called attention to a sharp turn-off directly ahead. Deva took the controls and in another moment they had come to a halt by the bank of the river.

She directed Rick to get out, and then set the car in motion again. He held his breath as it descended the steep bank. He thought for a moment she had stayed with it too long, but her running figure stumbled to the ground an instant before it struck the water with a resounding splash, and vanished from sight in the swirling dark current.

“Are you hurt?” he called, hastening down the bank.

“My wrist--” she answered in momentary agony. Then, as he reached her side: “I’ll be all right. We’ve got to keep moving as fast as we can.”

Her speed and endurance astonished him as they moved through the sheltering brush in the darkness. He wondered how her city life could have endowed her with such stamina. But there was little time for questions.

“There’s the check station,” she said, a few minutes later. “That red light over on the highway about a half mile down. Our best bet would be to get in the water and float past it. They might have detectors out if our absence has been broadcast.”

“Can you swim that far in the dark?” he asked.

“We’ll find a driftlog--if we can,” she said.

They found a suitable log in the next few minutes. They made bundles of their clothes, so that they could be held out of the water and kept dry as long as possible. Then they slipped soundlessly into the cold, muddy waters, pushing the log forward laboriously between them.

They kept silent, paddling slowly through what seemed an eternity of cold and darkness, letting the current do most of the work. Rick tried to estimate the distance they had traveled, but the light of the inspection station was invisible from the level of the water’s surface.

At last Deva spoke, her voice thin with cold and anxiety. “This is far enough. I’m sure we must be well past the station.”

They climbed out on the bank once more and saw the signal light a satisfying distance behind them. They dried themselves hastily against the chill of the night and donned their clothes, which had remained fairly dry.

“Don’t you want to rest for a while?” Rick asked.

“No time for that,” Deva said. “We’ve got to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and that station before daylight. We can find a place to rest and hide all day tomorrow.”

As dawn approached, Deva could no longer conceal her fatigue. They had not slowed during the night, but now they began searching for adequate shelter to protect them from observation during the day. They found it at last in a thick cluster of foliage by the river bank. So dense was its canopy of leaves that even the sky was hidden from their sight when they were at rest in its center.

They ate a small quantity of the food concentrate which they had smuggled out, and almost immediately afterwards Deva fell into a deep sleep.

Rick remained awake until the sun was high overhead, keeping an alert lookout for possible pursuit. There was no sign of a hue and cry from any direction. He began to let himself think that they were no longer in any immediate danger. Possibly the Machine and the Watch Police were not even very much concerned about an escape such as theirs. Citizens who wanted to run away were probably considered of very little value to society.

He allowed drowsiness to creep upon him as he contemplated his future plans. His first and major obligation was to see Deva to the nearest settlement of the Outlanders at which she wished to stay. Then he’d drift on. No place in particular. Eventually, he supposed, he’d have to throw in with the Outlanders somewhere. But until that day arrived--well, he’d always wanted to see as much of the land as possible.

He thought, too, of Deva. She had remarkable courage and an amazing spirit of independence, he admitted in admiration. He might even find himself missing that fiery mop of hair and equally burning temper. In any event, he owed her a debt of gratitude he could never repay.

He was aware next of darkness and of hands tugging at him in ungentle persistence. Deva’s voice whispered impatiently in his ear. “Come on, it’s time we were on our way!”

He struggled awake, and snatched up a food concentrate. He munched on it as they made their way cautiously out of the shelter.

“How much farther must we go before we start hitting Outlander settlements?” he asked.

“It’s hard to tell,” she replied. “They move around. But we should be on the edge of their country by morning.”

They moved rapidly through the wilderness again, following the course of the river, but Deva tired more quickly now. She was willing to stop for rest occasionally but not for long. It was approaching dawn when they heard the first faint thread of unfamiliar sound in the air. Deva paused in alarm and glanced up to the sky, listening.

“What is it?” Rick asked.

“I don’t know. Wait--yes, I do. They’re after us! That’s a helicopter, and it’s heading straight this way.”

Frantically, she raced toward the heavy foliage on the shore. The sound increased and seemed to arrow toward them. They settled in a crouch under the densest cover they could find. But still the sound came on.

Suddenly Deva gasped. “I should have remembered--!”

“Remembered what?”

“Quick!” she urged, grasping his arm. “Into the water!”

Not understanding, Rick stumbled riverward through the brush. “What for?” he asked.

“Infra-red detectors. They’re certain to have them. They may be trained on us already. The water may not mask us. But it’s our only chance.”

* * * * *

They were out of the underbrush now and descending the sloping bank. The sound of the beating vanes was so loud in their ears that it seemed almost upon them. Suddenly a tiny spurt of light snapped out of the sky. Momentarily it cast a ball of flaming brilliance about Deva. Then she cried out and fell to the ground.

“I’m hit! Go on, Rick. Into the water. Forget about me--”