She focused on the simple task of following Carter. He led her past buildings she had designed. Rows and rows of houses. Machines for living in. Machines for machines to live in.

They were in the suburbs now, in places Iona had rarely visited since construction there had been completed. Iona had to keep pace with Carter but as she passed close to an apartment block she peered in the windows. Every apartment had an identical table and chairs in the center of the living room and every table had two citizens sitting at it, facing each other, unmoving. Every apartment.

* * *

As they reached the edge of the city Iona noted a street corner in the suburbs had been cordoned off. The bureau was investigating a crime here. Usually anyone passing a crime scene would look up, at least to register that it was there, but Carter continued to stare straight ahead.

They walked on, left the city behind, went into the woods. Iona had always seen the trees as raw material for the next house, office, public facility, etc. Now inside each one she saw a person waiting to be carved out. The forest seemed a vast, silent womb, its unwitting children vested with infinite patience.

Eventually Iona and Carter reached the mouth of a disused mine shaft. It had been decommissioned several years ago because of concerns it might cause subsidence under the suburbs if it was extended farther. Surrounding the shaft were the traces of foundations where the site offices had once stood—when the mine closed down they had been broken up and sent to the furnace. The city never let a building stand empty when its materials could be put to good use elsewhere.

Carter didn’t stop at the mouth of the mine shaft—he just walked inside and started to descend. Iona hesitated. Going into the old mine shaft was forbidden, although the penalties for trespassing were not explicit. The fact it was known to be unstable was enough to put most people off. But Iona had to know why Carter had come here. So she followed him down.

The air inside the mine was dank, the ground moist. Rain would run down here and take a long time to disperse. Iona was accustomed to having the hearty smell of clean-cut wood around her. Down here she could taste only decay.

More pressingly, the inside of the mine was dark and Iona had no source of light. When the mine was in use the struts that supported the roof would have had torches attached to them but these had long since been removed. Before long it would be impossible for her to see anything. She was faced with a decision and had barely any time to make it: if she turned back toward the entrance now she would lose Carter and never find out why he’d come here. Maybe there was no logic, maybe he was leading her to nowhere—but instinct told her there was a purpose.