"If you are ready," she said, "we will go."
Again we passed through the enveloping globe which was our home: passed along the city street. It was now deserted. We walked on its level surface; it wound and twisted its way between the globes. At times a group of them piled one upon the other—the smallest on top like a disarray of bubbles—obstructed the street. But the substance upon which we walked (it was often barely visible) turned upward; a sharp upward curve to the vertical; then straight up, again leveling off, and then downward. We trod it; with no more effort going up than upon the horizontal. It seemed, indeed, only as though the scene about us had shifted its plane.
In silence we proceeded. I wondered where the inhabitants of the place might be. Then I saw a few. Not walking openly, these few we now encountered; one I saw lurking in the curve between two adjacent globes. A man ... robed darkly ... a dark hood seemingly over his head ... like a shroud enveloping him to mingle his outline with the darkness.... Darkness? Had the twilight turned to night?... Was this the Borderland again?... I seemed to see its darkness.... I strained my vision for the familiar shadows of our own world.... Was that a tree?... A street?... Was that Will's house over there?...
Bee's agonized voice reached my consciousness. "Rob! Rob, dear, come back to us!"
My mind had wandered, and had drawn with it the tenuous wraith of a body it so easily dominated. I fought myself back. Told myself vehemently I was not in the Borderland; I was with my friends. With Will—Bee; with Ala.
I saw them, distantly; with Space I know not how much, nor Time, how long—between us. Saw them; saw Bee with horrified arms held out as though to bring me back. And felt myself whirling in Nothingness.
"Rob! Rob!"
"Yes," I called. "I'm here—coming." And at last again I was with them.
"You're careless, Rob." Concern mingled with the relief in Will's tone. "Careless—you must not wander that way."