Marauder iarit-2

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Marauder iarit-2 Page 2

by William F. Wu


  “Oh, no.” Rita stared at him in horror. “I’m beginning to understand.” She hesitated. “They didn’t explode all at once?”

  “No. Apparently the component robots of MC Governor himself also have varied levels of instability. Since the others have not exploded yet, we will go to Jamaica. When we bring MC 2 back, this explosion will never have happened.” Hunter spoke stiffly, almost defensively. “If I fail to retrieve him, then I will have failed the First Law in allowing so much harm to so many people.”

  “I’m sure you can get him,” said Rita. “After all, you got MC 1. You probably won’t even need me, except for a little help here and there.”

  “I want you to understand that, for now, I have withheld the fact that the Jamaican explosion is related to MC 2 from the committee,” said Hunter. “And certainly from the public.”

  She looked up at him, waiting.

  “I expect to eliminate the problem, in which case an explanation will be unnecessary.” He stopped the vehicle in front of Debbie’s Diner. “Here we are. I will introduce you to the rest of the team.”

  2

  Debbie’s Diner was decorated in the fashion of a small Missouri town from the early twentieth century. The furniture was made of cedar, the deep red and white of the wood sealed by a clear preservative. Frilly blue and white curtains hung in all the windows. Jars of fruit preserves made by hand were for sale in the front.

  Steve Chang had already requested a comer table in the back. He and Jane Maynard were waiting there when Hunter brought in Rita and made introductions. Hunter looked around, appraising the room.

  As he did, Steve looked too. No one was seated close to them. Humans couldn’t hear them, but of course a robot could increase his aural sensitivity.

  “What’s wrong?” Jane asked.

  “We can get acquainted here,” said Hunter. “However, the area is extremely open, offering virtually no privacy. I suggest we postpone our discussion of specific plans until we move to a secure location.”

  “Aw, Hunter.” Steve grinned. “Are you kidding?”

  “Of course not,” Hunter said stiffly.

  Rita was looking back and forth between them, curiously.

  “Hunter, you hired me for my pragmatic experience, as opposed to the formal education possessed by the rest of your team. Right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, take my word for it. As long as we don’t discuss the science and technology required for our trip, then anything else we say will go completely unnoticed. Frankly, nobody believes in time travel.”

  “I think you have a point,” said Jane. “They’ll think we’re going to a costume party or making a historical movie or something.”

  “I accept your argument,” said Hunter, again glancing around warily.

  “May I ask a question, then?” Rita asked. “I would like to know in more detail exactly what is expected of me. I understand that, in general, I’m to help with information about the history and culture of Jamaica in 1668…but what do you want, exactly?”

  “While Jane and Steve were resting up from our last mission, I gathered clothing and equipment,” said Hunter. “I need Steve to look it over for practicality and you to screen it for anachronisms.”

  “I see,” said Rita.

  “It’ll be easier this time,” said Steve. “Last time, we had to take nearly everything important with us. Now we’re going back to a time and place that already has human necessities. But we’ll want vaccinations for disease.”

  “I’ll work up a list of likely ones,” said Rita. “All the microbes will have evolved some over the years, but we should take the precautions we can.”

  As the group ordered the meals from a robot wait er, Steve studied Rita. She was petite and pretty, and coolly professional. At least she hadn’t started needling him, the way the paleontologist on the last mission, Chad Mora, had done from the moment they met. Steve and Chad had parted friends but they had not started out that way. Rita’s reserve was a welcome change.

  “I’ve never heard of Port Royal, Jamaica,” said Steve. “Not that I’ve been to the Caribbean. But I’ve never seen it on the ads for tourists or heard it mentioned when hurricanes are in the news. Where is it?”

  “Under the water.” Rita smiled nicety. “Port Royal was located on the southern coast of Jamaica, to the east. It was across a bay from modern Kingston. In the seventeenth century, it was the center of Jamaican buccaneer activity, but a big earthquake hit it in 1692. Its remains have been under the water ever since.”

  “Well, that explains that.” Steve grinned at Jane. “No wonder I’ve never heard of it.”

  “No wonder,” Jane agreed.

  “We should all have weapons. I think.” said Rita. “For our own protection.”

  “I will have to protect all of you under the First Law,” said Hunter. “I am much stronger than any human my size, and much quicker. As long as we stay together. I can handle this task.”

  “We’re going to enter a very rough, violent culture,” said Rita. “Port Royal is even more violent than most areas were during the 1600s.”

  “Taking weapons is a problem for me,” said Hunter. “One of my greatest concerns is that we avoid changing history. We should take back as few items as possible. Any material we take back beyond the bare minimum increases the chance that we will alter events in the future-that is, after 1668. Our own time might not be waiting here for us when we come home. That possibility makes it a First Law concern.”

  “I don’t know how to impress upon you how dangerous Port Royal will be,” said Rita. “In particular, they will look at Jane and me in a very different way from what we are used to in our own time. You hired me for my expertise, and I believe we should all carry at least good-sized knives, if not pistols and swords.”

  “This may be too great a risk-” Hunter began.

  “I suggest a compromise,” said Steve.

  “What kind?” Jane asked. “After all, Hunter, keeping us safe is also part of your First Law requirement.”

  “We’ll take some money back with us,” said Steve. “Coins from that time, 1668 or earlier. Spanish coins, English coins, whatever Rita says is appropriate. When we get there, we’ll buy what we need, then leave it behind when we come home. That way we won’t take anything that originated after 1668 back with us.”

  “‘That would satisfy my concern,” said Rita. “But we’ll have to keep our wealth well-hidden from the buccaneers around us.”

  “A compromise,” Hunter said carefully. “Rita, are coins from that time and place readily available?”

  “Well, they exist,” said Rita. “Many of them were gold, so those are very expensive. Many are in museums and galleries now, so those aren’t available at all. But some coins from that time can be found for a reasonable price. I would try collectors and dealers in the Caribbean.”

  “I have a certain number of such coins already,” said Hunter. “I would prefer not to delay the trip while we wait for more.”

  “You know,” said Rita. “They could be faked easily and cheaply. Or would that be too risky?”

  “Fakes would increase the chance of altering history,” said Hunter. “We would increase the local money supply.”

  “How much do you have?” Rita asked.

  “One kilogram of silver coin,” said Hunter. “The denominations vary.”

  Rita thought a moment. “Exact prices fluctuated, depending on what booty the buccaneers brought back at any given time. Barter was very common. For our purposes, however, I think that should do if we are careful with it.”

  “This will be a good move for more reasons than just getting weapons,” Steve said. “We’ll want to rent lodging and buy food, too.”

  “We will take two-way radio transmitters this time too,” said Hunter.

  “Yeah! That’ll avoid some stupid problems we had last time,” said Steve.

  “They must be disguised,” said Rita. “If anyone in 1668 hears voices coming out
of the air, we might be accused of sorcery of some kind and killed on the spot. Buccaneers were very superstitious, impulsive people.”

  “I have the transmitters ready,” said Hunter. “In the form of lapel pins.”

  “We should wear them out of sight,” said Rita. “Jewelry will invite thieves.”

  “This whole arrangement sounds good to me,” said Steve. “I think this mission may be safer than the last one. Food and shelter will be waiting and we won’t have to watch for Tyrannosaurus rexes stampeding after us.”

  Jane laughed. “I’m convinced.”

  During dinner, Rita had Hunter access the city computer. In consultation with it, she gave Hunter a list of vaccinations that the human members of the team would need. He arranged to have the serums waiting at the Institute.

  After dinner, Hunter drove the team through Mojave Center to the Bohung Institute. Rita began briefing them on what to expect in Port Royal, including some of the sailing terms and other historical references they might need in the language. Hunter stored it easily, of course.

  As Hunter listened to Rita, he also eavesdropped on some of the people around them. Everyone seemed to be talking about the explosion in Jamaica. The toll of death, injuries, and destruction was still climbing. The world community was rushing to help with emergency supplies and services. Experts around the world were speculating on the cause, but only Hunter and his team knew what it was.

  Hunter’s sense of failure under the First Law for allowing so many humans to suffer and die was increasing. He wanted to go back into the past as soon as possible to prevent the disaster. He was making an unusual effort to concentrate his attention on his duties. Reviewing the moves he had already made helped to distract him.

  Before MC Governor had left, he had arranged for the city computer to coordinate the duties that were normally his. Hunter had found that the system was functioning effectively, so he had not interfered with it. Earlier that day, Hunter had also arranged, through the city computer, for the entire Bohung Institute to be closed down. He had cited emergency conditions that he had classified as “unexplained.” It was now guarded by a full detail of Security robots.

  This detail was temporarily under the authority of R. Ishihara. He was the robot who was normally assigned to Room F-12, where the experimental time travel unit was located. Originally designed for miniaturization, it had been modified by MC Governor for this second purpose. Hunter felt that leaving an Institute robot in charge was appropriate.

  After dinner, Hunter drove the team in the Security vehicle up to the Bohung Institute. By the time he pulled up at the main entrance, he had already alerted Ishihara that they were coming. Hunter had also transmitted Rita’s appearance, fingerprints, and voiceprint so that Ishihara could add them to the screening data for members of Hunter’s team. It was just a precaution. Hunter fully expected that by the time he brought Rita through the Institute again on the way out, MC 2 would have been apprehended.

  The Security detail was there partly to prevent unexpected visitors from entering, since the employees had already been notified that the Institute was closed. Charging the guards with the protection of the humans on Hunter’s team under the First Law meant that no humans could use the Second Law to countermand his instructions. However, Hunter’s main reason for assigning the detail was to capture Dr. Wayne Nystrom if at all possible. The team had last seen him in the Late Cretaceous Period, but he could be anywhere at any time by now.

  Hunter led his team into Room F-12, where Ishihara was personally stationed. The room was very large and dominated by an opaque sphere about fifteen meters in diameter. The rest of the room was lined with countertops filled with computers, monitors, a communications console, and miscellaneous office items that had been in use when Hunter had suddenly closed down the Institute.

  Inside, Ishihara passed out the oral vaccines to the humans, who took them immediately. Then he waited by the door. Everyone turned to Hunter for instructions.

  Hunter took them to a small stack of clothes and accessories on a counter.

  “Steve, Rita,” said Hunter. “These are the clothes I gathered while Steve and Jane were sleeping. If they pass inspection, we can leave soon. I hired the robot tailor from the city personnel department to design and make them based on research I did in the library. I gave him Steve’s and Jane’s sizes. Rita’s clothes may need alteration, which I can have done immediately. Since we will be in the tropics, the clothes are made of cotton, not wool. I directed that no modern synthetic materials be present in any of them. Steve and I have already agreed that we will not have to take any packs of survival gear with us.”

  Steve picked up a loose, white shirt and knee breeches, shaking them out to take a look at them. “Good enough, I’d say. I’ll try them on in a minute.”

  First he examined the other clothing, which included two long brown skirts for Rita and Jane. “These are practical enough, I think. These will help us blend in when we first arrive. That’s the important part.”

  “The clothing design is correct,” said Rita, taking items from Steve. “But this belt buckle is an anachronism.”

  “In what way?” Hunter asked.

  “The buckle is made of stainless steel, a more recent development,” said Rita, tossing the belt to him. She held the hem of one skirt up close to peer at it. “Did you tell the tailor robot to avoid synthetic thread too?”

  “No,” said Hunter. “I was thinking of fabric when I gave him instructions.”

  “Better contact him to make sure,” said Rita. She quickly glanced over all the clothes, including the shoes. “Everything else is acceptable.”

  “Take these,” said Hunter, handing each of them a communicator. They were simple, decorative, silver buttons with a tiny speaker hole in the center, a pin on the back, and a tiny button on the side. “Pin them to the underside of your lapels, out of sight. That way, they will be close enough to speak into without attracting a lot of attention.”

  While the humans took turns changing their clothes in an adjacent room, Hunter called the tailor robot about the thread. He changed his own clothes at the same time. The thread was satisfactory.

  “Fortunately,” said Hunter, “the tailor robot understood my meaning when I asked him to use only natural fibers of cotton. Steve, are the belts necessary? We can save time if we do not bother to replace the buckles.”

  “No, we can get by without them, at least at first. We can buy some there if we need them.”

  “Good,” said Hunter. “Rita, how are your clothes?”

  “How do I look?” She smiled and did a little twirl in her loose blouse and full skirt. “They’re a little big, but I think good enough. We don’t need to delay the trip to make minor alterations.” Now that she was out of her business suit, her manner seemed more casual.

  “You look fine,” said Steve. “Hunter, shall we go?”

  “I believe we are about ready to go,” said Hunter. “Everyone’s communicator is in place, I see; good. Before we go, however, I want to brief you again on the matter of altering history.”

  “I think I’ve already heard it,” Steve said wryly. ”Jane too.”

  “Rita must hear it,” said Hunter.

  “Yeah, well.” Steve rolled his eyes and sat down in a chair. “All right, let’s get it over with.”

  “I have estimated that Mojave Center 2, the robot we seek, will return to full size from his miniaturized state about the time we arrive. That is how I chose the destination in time for our trip, since we cannot possibly find him while he is still microscopic. The greatest danger in this mission is that before we can apprehend him, he will take actions that alter the time line of history from 1668 to the present day.”

  “I already know that, Hunter,” Rita said patiently.

  “I have not made my point yet.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to,” said Rita. “Hunter, as a historian, I understand the theories behind your concern, but let me give you a counterargument, all righ
t?”

  “Go ahead,” said Hunter. After all, what she had said earlier was right; he had hired her for her expertise.

  Steve pointedly faked a yawn and pretended to fall asleep.

  3

  Actually, Steve listened with amusement as Rita earnestly argued with Hunter. Jane seemed seriously interested in their difference of opinion. Hunter’s face, as usual, was calm and hard to read.

  “On the surface of it, the history in this time and place really isn’t very important,” said Rita. “You see, the depredations of the buccaneers from Jamaica in this era were a side issue to European wars. In fact, much of the booty that resulted from their raids never left the Caribbean.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Steve. “I know my history isn’t great, but I remember something about this stuff. I learned in school that the Spanish were taking huge amounts of gold back to Spain at that time. Sir Francis Drake and Walter Raleigh and the Spanish Armada-all that stuff. And that the English kept raiding Spanish ships and taking a lot of gold back to England. What about that?”

  “Your history is correct as far as it goes, but that was a century earlier, during the 1500s.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “No reason to be. That was simply a different phase of the same era. But even more to the point, Port Royal itself and three thousand of its inhabitants will be wiped out in the 1692 earthquake that I mentioned. So this town is not even going to last very long after we’re there-only one short generation after we leave.”

  “So you don’t feel that the events in Jamaica in 1668 are going to mean much to the overall direction of history?” Jane asked thoughtfully.

  “No, I don’t. I believe that history is driven by major developments in technology and economics, which in turn trigger social and political change.”

  “I am still worried about the application of chaos theory to our missions into the past,” said Hunter. “You are familiar with the theory?”

 

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