Alex’s grandfather spotted the new machine. The old man stood muzzily shaking his head, trying to focus. The robot moved cautiously, circling to head him off whenever he tried to move. It was gradually closing in, cutting down any options for escape—and steadily forcing him backward, toward the thrashing arms of the salt-crazed machine behind.

Above, von Sudenfeld stepped closer to the edge, directing the action. He yelped in delight. “See what I can do now?” He sounded both amazed and triumphant. “See?”

The tubby man was fully caught up in it, Alex realized, too focused on his machine to notice anything else. Alex studied the rock face. “Move,” he ordered himself.

He circled right, fast, keeping under cover of the trees until he was pressed against the cliff base, out of sight of the man above. His grandfather’s bag lay on its side a little ahead. One of the heavy spring-heels had fallen out. Scattered on the ground, Alex saw the things that had spilled from the old man’s pockets. His old black wallet, a few cards that had come loose. Half-consciously, he scooped the wallet up, tucking cards back inside. One caught his eye: a small, plain white rectangle bearing a single word.

DEATH

Frowning, he turned another.

DEATH

Half a dozen, all the same.

The clatter of the old man’s cane snapped him back to attention. His grandfather ducked woozily away from the life-sizer’s blows, dazed, yet somehow fighting on instinct. Still, he was being gradually forced back toward the other machine lashing lethally behind him.

Alex stowed the wallet away and searched the sheer rock face for a step, a handhold. He looked up, considering the task. It was impossible. He started climbing anyway.

Rain showered down. The granite was slippery. His arms and legs tightened and burned. Twice in quick succession, he missed his grip and knew he was going to fall. Each time, he saved himself with an instinctive grab and kick, forced himself on.

The cliff was pockmarked with places to grip. As he neared the top, Alex told himself it was easy after all. He had almost managed to stop picturing the fall beneath, the ragged rocks. Looking up, he could see von Sudenfeld now, a few feet to his left, rocking with excitement at the cliff edge as he steered his machine in on Alex’s grandfather, some twenty-five feet below.

Alex worked along until he was directly beneath him. There, he paused, arms trembling, forehead pressed to the rock. He watched a single raindrop run down there as he thought over what he planned to do, testing actions in his head, feeling the motion. Then he stopped thinking, hauled up fast, grabbed von Sudenfeld’s ankle, and pulled down hard, putting all his weight into it.

Von Sudenfeld had time to say “Huh?” before he fell.