by Isaac Asimov
“How did he escape that village by simply vanishing?”
“He’s a trickster,” said Gene. Hunter turned in surprise.
“A trickster?” Vicinius asked.
“To amuse people around a campfire. Someone who can make jokes and tie knots that come undone again.”
“This is all?” Vicinius still sounded skeptical.
“He was no demon, Vicinius,” said Hunter. “But Julius seems to think you have more pressing business than hunting today. Do you wish to return to your village?”
“No,” said Vicinius slowly. “Julius met me by chance. They will have sent any message that must reach my village by another messenger already. I will not let Julius ruin our hunt.”
“Even concerning Roman business?” Hunter asked, keeping his tone casual.
“Prince Arminius will tend to that,” said Vicinius. Then he glanced around again for the trail of MC 3.
Wayne dozed fitfully until he heard the sound of the door opening. Nervously, he jerked awake and found Ishihara returning with a very large, bulging backpack on his back and two sealed containers in his hands. Wayne pushed himself up on the couch and took a couple of deep breaths.
“I have what you wish,” said Ishihara, setting the containers down on the couch next to him. “This is your meal. But I have been thinking about the extent of my cooperation with you and the fact that Hunter’s instructions and yours are in contradiction.” He slipped off the backpack and carefully placed it on the floor by the couch.
“Yeah? What of it?” Wayne picked up one of the containers and started to open it.
“I am no longer accepting Hunter’s argument without question, but I cannot accept yours fully, either.”
Wayne tensed, watching him carefully. “Then where do you stand?”
“I shall offer a compromise.”
“All right, what is it?”
“You will take me with you.”
“What?” Wayne was shocked. This was one possibility he had not considered.
“You have raised reasonable doubts about Hunter’s arguments concerning you, but I am not entirely convinced that your judgment is sound. In return for my aiding your journey, you will take me with you into the past so that I can see the situation for myself.”
Wayne tried to think of an objection, but none came to him. Maybe he was just too tired. Then again, maybe no reasonable objection existed.
“All right,” Wayne said slowly. “With a couple of concessions on your part. I instruct you to cooperate with me and not to contact Hunter for any reason unless I specifically order you to. As I understand it, your concern is about the First Law challenge of changing history, either by Hunter or me.”
“Or MC 3.”
“Yeah. Him, too. But if Hunter’s instructions carry no First Law weight with you, then the Second Law requires that you obey me, instead. Tell me if you accept this.”
“At present, yes.”
“What will change it?”
“If, upon observation in the past, I come to believe you are making changes in the course of history, then the First Law will override your instructions, of course.”
“Of course.” Wayne sighed. “All right. I need more sleep before we go. I’ll set up the hypnosis courses in Latin and ancient German to run while I take a real nap. While I’m doing that, you access the same language information and arrange clothes for yourself — what did you bring me, anyway?”
“Long woolen tunics and cloaks of the same sort Hunter used. Also leather boots and leggings. The lapel pin communicator I mentioned.”
“Good. Come to think of it, Ishihara …”
“Yes?”
“While you’re accessing data, pick up a number of other major languages — all you can manage efficiently in your memory. We may want some others in the future.”
“Agreed.”
“And leave that sphere and the console shut off while I’m sleeping.” He turned his attention to the food containers again. “What did you bring me? I’m starved.”
By midday, Marcus had reached the bank of the river with his guest and her slave. He had explained to her that a man wandering lost in the forest would seek water. Jane had agreed and so they had ridden to the river. Damp from the light but steady downpour from the gray skies, they had huddled under some trees for a cold noonday meal before riding on.
While they moved down the river, the Roman legions were marching deeper into the forest on the governor’s business. Marcus knew their route and roughly how far the legions would go in one day through the rugged mountains. Late in the day, he planned to locate their camp in order to rejoin them.
Marcus led Jane and her slave downstream, keeping a close lookout for footprints near the water. He also kept sneaking glances at Jane, whom he found extremely attractive, though the hood of her cloak hid her face unless she turned to look directly at him. If he could find her lost friend, she might be grateful; at the very least, it would make a good impression on her. He had never known a woman from Gaul, however, and conversation with her was difficult. She was polite, but reluctant to answer questions about her life in Gaul.
In the middle of the afternoon, Marcus reined in by the bank. “I have a number of footprints here,” he said, pointing to the ground. “One set is quite large. Another is very small and barefoot, and two more are of average size. One is wearing the leather boots of a German warrior.” The edges of the tracks had been blunted and blurred by the rain, but the outlines were still complete.
Jane rode up to look. Then she looked back over her shoulder at her slave. “What do you think?”
Her slave rode up to join them and examined the footprints. Then he pointed to the trail the tracks made back into the forest. “I think the small ones are MC 3, all right.”
“So some people are with him,” said Marcus. “At least one German is among them.”
“Or he’s being followed,” said Jane, looking pointedly at Steve.
Marcus did not understand the meaning of that look.
“Or it’s a coincidence,” said Steve. “Maybe they all just wanted some water.”
“In any case, we have his trail,” said Marcus. “We can follow him from here.”
“Good,” said Jane. “How old do you think the tracks are?”
“No older than yesterday,” said Marcus. “Otherwise the rain would have washed them out completely by now.”
She glanced at her slave again, who nodded agreement.
“The horses need a rest and a drink of water. We’ll rest here before we leave the river.” Marcus dismounted and dropped his reins to the ground. His mount moved to the river and began to drink
“All right.” Jane brought her mount to a jerky halt. “I could use another break.”
“May I?” Marcus moved to her side and held out his arms.
“Yes, thank you.”
As she dismounted, he caught her gently and eased her to the ground, as he done on their earlier stops.
“We have company,” said her slave, remaining on horseback. He nodded toward the forest.
Marcus turned to look. A party of young German warriors was emerging from the trees, led by a young blond man with a barrel chest and short arms and legs, wearing the usual furs of his people. Marcus realized suddenly that he had not been paying adequate attention to the birds in the forest; they would have revealed the presence of people moving toward the river from another direction. Anxiously, he watched the Germans approach.
The strangers were merely walking toward them, neither running nor fanning out to trap them against the river. Still, as a precaution, he offered a leg up to Jane again, who mounted without a word. Then he took the reins of his own horse again and mounted.
“Hail, Roman,” called the leader of the Germans in Latin. He stopped, holding up his free hand, and his companions stopped also.
“Hail, friend,” said Marcus. “I am called Julius in your language. We are of the Cherusci tribe. Who are you?”
; “I am Tribune Marcus Gaius Aemilianus.”
“You are a long way from the Roman legions here, Tribune,” said Julius.
“Yes, we are,” said Marcus. “Are you out on a hunt today? How has your luck run so far?”
“We are not hunting so hard today,” said Julius, with a crooked smile. “We have been visiting with friends in other villages. Maybe tomorrow we shall go hunting in earnest. But how about yourself? This is a poor, wet day to go for a ride along the river with a lady.”
“We are searching for a lost stranger,” said Marcus. “A small fellow, touched by the gods.”
Julius frowned. “Apparently this is a good day for such a search.” He raised his hand in farewell. “Good day, Roman.” He turned and led his men back toward the trees.
“Farewell, Julius.” Marcus watched them go, puzzled by their visit.
“What do you think they wanted?” Jane rode up next to him. “They didn’t really say anything.”
“I don’t know for certain,” said Marcus. “However, the Cherusci do not just go out for long walks without a reason. If I had to guess, I would say they are watching to see if I am carrying some sort of message. I think we had better rejoin the legions. I apologize, but it’s important for your own safety.”
“Of course.”
Marcus turned his mount to go back the way they had come. Then he reined up in surprise. Steve was nowhere in sight.
10
STEVE HAD FELT a surge of alarm at the sight of the armed German warriors. When they had appeared, he had not yet dismounted and had dutifully remained behind Marcus and Jane. Even though the Germans had not advanced in a threatening manner, he knew that the German rebellion against the Romans would be starting at any time.
Steve had decided to contact Hunter immediately. That required moving away from Marcus and the Germans. While Marcus and Jane had concentrated all their attention on the strangers, Steve had quietly turned his horse on the soft, damp earth and ridden at a walk into the trees. Then he had switched on his lapel communicator.
“Steve calling Hunter,” he said quietly, as Marcus spoke to the German leader out by the riverbank. “You within hearing, Hunter?”
“I hear you, Steve,” said Hunter immediately. “Are you in trouble?”
“Not yet,” said Steve, keeping his voice low. “But some German warriors are wandering around here. I think the rebellion is moving right along. We probably should rejoin you, but we have a Roman tribune with us. I think he may want to go find the rest of the Roman army.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re at the riverbank, right where it looks like you and Gene and Vicinius found MC 3’s tracks. Those are your tracks, aren’t they?”
“Yes. We are on his trail with Vicinius.”
“You getting close?”
“Yes. His trail is very fresh. From his course, Vicinius believes he has already smelled the woodsmoke from another village of the Cherusci, the one where Prince Arminius lives. I hope to catch him there.”
“What do you want to do, Hunter?”
“I know where to look for MC 3 now. To reduce risk, we must reunite the team so that I can protect all of you. If you three follow MC 3’s tracks away from the river, I can intercept you.”
“I see Jane and Marcus mounting up. I’m sure we’re going to find the Roman legions.”
“Vicinius will not go there,” said Hunter. “Nor can I tell him that Gene and I are going there. We must maintain our good relations with Vicinius. However, we shall move toward the river now and come closer to you. Leave the Roman and meet us if you can do so without harming your relationship with him. We should also maintain a good rapport with the Romans.”
“Well … I’ll try,” said Steve.
“Hunter out.”
Steve rode back out of the trees to rejoin Jane and Marcus. She looked relieved, but Marcus scowled at him with disgust. Steve understood. The tribune assumed that he had been hiding from the Germans out of cowardice.
“We’re going to join the governor again,” said Jane, looking at Steve with a puzzled expression.
He tapped his lapel communicator unobtrusively and she nodded slightly.
“It’s not safe to stay out here alone among the Cherusci,” said Marcus sternly. “We must ride away immediately.”
Steve was not sure exactly how a slave would speak to his owner in this time. He just spoke naturally, picking his words to disguise his meaning from Marcus. “Other members of our original party are coming this way. We should rejoin them, especially if danger is coming.”
“How do you know?” Marcus glanced at him, then looked into the forest. “I see no sign of anyone.”
“I, uh, heard them.”
Marcus studied his face, obviously unconvinced. “Perhaps you heard more Germans.”
“I am willing to wait for them here,” said Steve, looking at Jane pointedly. “If you wish to go on, we can follow your tracks to the camp later.”
“I strongly recommend that your slave come with us,” said Marcus.
“Well …” Jane hesitated.
“I suggest that I stay here,” said Steve, fingering his lapel pin again.
“All right.” Jane turned to Marcus. “He will be fine. Let’s go.”
Marcus nodded and kicked his mount into a trot. Jane did the same. Watching them go, Steve hoped he had made the right move.
Hunter stopped on the trail of MC 3. “Vicinius.”
“Huh?” In the lead, Vicinius turned to look back over his shoulder.
“I would like to head back toward the river.”
“You would? Why?” He grinned. “If you are thirsty, open your mouth and look up. The rain is light, but it keeps falling.” He laughed. “Or we could return to the small stream that flows near the village.”
Hunter smiled politely at the joke. “Perhaps we should not just keep following the track of MC 3. He will need water again. Maybe we can intercept him.” He looked at Gene, unable to explain his conversation with Steve in front of Vicinius.
“Omens,” said Gene. “The omens suggest it.” He started to grin, but turned away so Vicinius would not see him.
Hunter knew Gene must have guessed that Hunter had received a message on his internal receiver.
“I see no omens,” said Vicinius, looking around at the trees. “But I see a very clear, recent track from this man called MC 3. Why not just stay on his track?”
“The omens I have read suggest that we return to the river,” said Gene. “Would you indulge us, Vicinius?”
Vicinius hesitated, looking around. He was clearly confused, but of course this search was their concern, not his. Finally he shrugged. “As you wish, Hunter. Maybe I will find another boar down by the river again. Since MC 3 has been wandering aimlessly.”
“Thank you.” Hunter waited while Vicinius changed direction and took the lead once again.
Wayne and Ishihara arrived well away from the location of the German village where he had been held captive. Both were well bundled in woolen tunics, leggings, and cloaks, their feet in padded leather boots. Ishihara had left the backpack behind in their own time, however, because it was made of synthetic material that did not exist in this time. Instead, he had prepared a leather bag with a shoulder thong in which to carry the supplies Wayne had told him to gather. Each of them was prepared to speak in Latin and Wayne was finally well rested and fed.
“Monitor all the frequencies on your internal receiver,” Wayne said to Ishihara, looking around at the dense forest. “I don’t have my bearings yet, but we might pick something up between Hunter and his team members.”
Ishihara nodded.
“I’m almost back where I started,” said Wayne, looking around in the forest. “When I first got here I was lost, and now I’m lost again. The only difference is that I’m not freezing to death and I have your company.”
“Which way do you want to go?”
“I don’t know.” Wayne picked a direction at random an
d started walking. “Let’s try this way.”
“I have a signal,” said Ishihara suddenly.
“What? Already?”
“Hunter and Steve are communicating by radio.”
“What are they saying?” Wayne felt a surge of excitement. “Come on!”
“They have not finished yet,” Ishihara said blandly. He turned slowly in a circle.
“Well?” Wayne demanded anxiously.
“Hunter is that way.” Ishihara extended one arm. “Steve is that way.” Pointing with his other hand, he made an angle roughly ninety degrees.
“Which one is closer?”
“Steve.”
“How do you know?”
“Hunter’s communication link is powered by the same solar converters on his skin that drive the rest of his body. That energy source is far more powerful than the tiny solar collector on Steve’s lapel pin. However, the signal I am receiving from Steve is much stronger.”
“I see. What else have you learned?”
“From the content of their conversation, he is apparently near a river.”
“All right,” said Wayne, forcing his tone to be light and casual. “Can you adjust my lapel communicator to the frequency Hunter is using?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Show me.” He unpinned it and handed it to Ishihara.
The robot opened the back and made a slow, careful movement with a fingernail. “Did you see?”
“Yes. But when you and I communicate, we should use a different frequency, so they don’t intercept us by chance. How do we do that?”
“I suggest one full revolution of this little dial. That will be sufficiently different to eliminate any accidental reception. Of course, if he suspects the presence of our communicators, he can monitor the full bandwidth, as I did.”
“Right.”
“Here you are.”
Wayne took his pin back and closed it again. “Thanks. Let’s go see Steve.”
“This way, then.” Ishihara lowered his arms and began picking his way through the trees and underbrush.
Wayne followed him, deeply relieved to have the resources and company of a robot now. During the first two trips back in time, he had been alone, competing with a team of humans led by a robot. This time the odds were more balanced.
