by Isaac Asimov
“You are saying what?” Hunter asked.
“I’m saying that the Russians don’t feel they have much of a choice about whether to fight. So MC 4 can’t go to Stalin, or the Soviet generals, and talk them out of the violence. And if he tries to persuade the NKVD to be more reasonable, they’ll throw him in prison or blow his electronic brains out.”
“The German army is the aggressor on the military front, then,” said Jane. “Maybe he’ll try to stop them.”
“He doesn’t really need to,” said Judy. “Since the Soviets are going to drive them back anyhow. By this time, the German army is almost frozen in place.”
“What happened to them?” Hunter asked. “How could they get this far and then fail without being defeated?”
“They were handled with tremendous incompetence by Hitler. And one of the top German generals refused to issue winter clothing to his troops. He was afraid they would lose confidence in his personal guarantee that they would take shelter in Moscow before the winter turned cold.”
“That’s crazy,” said Jane.
“That’s right,” said Judy grimly. “If it weren’t for the suffering of all the ordinary people caught in the middle, I’d say these two regimes — Hitler’s and Stalin’s — simply deserved each other.”
“Suppose MC 4 convinced the Germans to turn away from Moscow,” said Hunter.
“I don’t see how,” said Judy. “Hitler’s not at the front, and he makes the ultimate strategic decisions.”
“Please consider the supposition.”
“Well — if the battle doesn’t take place, that would be a change of some magnitude,” she said slowly. “But I can’t see it reversing the course of the war. The Soviets will still have the initiative on this front.”
“Perhaps the German command should not be our first priority,” said Hunter. “I brought us here because the data in the sphere console told me that Moscow, not the German lines to the west, was MC 4’s destination. The site of the nuclear explosion confirmed it.”
“MC 4 may move quickly once he returns to full size,” said Jane. “We don’t know if he would choose to stay in Moscow or not.”
“The center of the recent explosion in our own time was in Moscow,” Hunter added. “Of course, MC 4 could have moved around a great deal between now and our own time, once he had the advantages of normal human size. For now, we will remain in Moscow and try to learn if anyone of MC 4’s description has been noticed.”
Judy nodded.
“Do we have a plan of action?” Jane asked.
“I do not want to separate the team,” said Hunter. “As you know, we have had reason to regret doing so in each of the previous missions.”
“And without Steve, one of us would be alone,” Jane added, shaking her head.
“Dinnertime,” said Judy, nodding toward the front.
Much of the crowd had lined up to receive meager rations of bread, boiled potatoes, and water from the long table. The remainder were still arranging their personal belongings at various places around the floor. Only a few had already been served.
Hunter stood up. “We must join the line.”
“Time to switch back to Russian,” said Jane.
Hunter led them to the rear of the line, where they waited patiently. They passed through the line, receiving their dinner of thin soup and a hard roll in an odd assortment of dishes. Then they returned to their corner to eat.
Jane and Judy sat in the corner itself. Hunter placed himself where his body would block the view of them from the other occupants of the room. Then he slipped some of their dried meat out of the duffel bag for Jane and Judy to eat while no one else could see them.
Hunter observed that the Russians were still wide awake after dinner. His team’s first two missions had taken place in summer and the most recent in early fall. This was the first one to take place in winter, with early nightfall. Bedtime would not arrive for a few hours yet. Of his team members, Jane had recently completed a full night’s sleep, though Judy had risen very early to make the trip to Mojave Center.
As Jane finished her dinner, chewing on her hard roll, she saw Judy lean to her right to see past Hunter.
“You know,” Judy said quietly. “After years of studying this era, I finally have a chance to see the people of this time for myself. Since most of the people here are women, I’m sure that I can approach them comfortably for a little conversation.”
“Please be careful,” said Hunter.
“I’ll return our dishes when we’re all finished,” said Judy. “Then I’ll see if I can strike up a conversation on my way back through the crowd. Maybe I can learn something.”
“You want to talk to people?” Jane asked, glancing at Hunter.
“Please be very careful,” Hunter repeated.
Judy smiled. “Don’t worry. I have as much fear of the NKVD as anyone here.”
“We do not want to change anyone’s behavior unnecessarily,” Hunter added.
“I don’t think anything I can say here will change the outcome of the battle.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Jane.
They collected their empty dishes and worked their way back to the front of the warehouse. Jane knew that Judy believed Hunter had an exaggerated fear of how much influence any of the team could possibly have on historical events. So Jane wanted to keep tabs on how Judy handled herself.
Judy took her time on the return trip, looking around for someone to approach. Many people were obviously as comfortable as they could get, having grown accustomed to life in these conditions. Others tended babies or small children and were too occupied to make small talk. Jane followed her, also surveying the crowd.
“How about her?” Jane asked quietly, pointing to one side of the room.
A tired, bent, elderly woman fumbled with her blanket, trying to shake it out with stiff, gnarled fingers. She shuffled to one side, still stooped over, and shook it again. No one paid any attention to her.
Judy worked her way toward her in the crowd. The old woman was obviously alone, though others sat nearby with their own families. By the time Judy reached her, the old woman was on her hands and knees, patiently smoothing and straightening the blanket on the hard floor.
Judy squatted down and tugged the wrinkles out of the last corner. The old woman looked up at her, startled. She looked scared.
“I’m only helping,” Judy said gently. “I’m sorry if I surprised you.”
The old woman nodded, still watching Judy cautiously. Then she glanced up at Jane, who had come to stand behind Judy. The woman’s face was sharp-featured and deeply lined. After a moment, she relaxed a little and sat down on the blanket.
“I’m Judy Taub. What’s your name?”
“Ivana Voronov,” she said quietly. She smiled, though, for the first time. “Please sit down.” She patted the blanket and looked up at Jane again. “And your friend, too.”
Judy squatted down on the blanket, keeping her boots off of it. Jane joined her. The old woman looked back and forth between them, waiting for someone to say something.
“We’re new in this shelter,” said Judy.
“Oh? Where have you been?”
“Well … on the move. We’ve been displaced by the war.” Judy shrugged. “We saw everyone getting off the buses. Where were you? In a work brigade?”
“Oh, yes. We’re digging the big ditches to the west.”
“Ditches?” Jane asked, turning to Judy.
“Antitank ditches,” said Judy quietly. “A quarter million Muscovites are digging them with hand shovels. Three-quarters of the workers are women, since the men are either in the army or working in heavy industry. The ditches are to block the advance of German tanks from the west of the city.”
“By hand?” Jane shook her head, impressed. “Hard work. Especially in this weather.”
Ivana grimaced, rubbing her hands. “I can’t do very much at my age. My hands hurt all the time. So does my back. These young girls, now, the
y work very hard.”
“Thousands of people abandoned their jobs and homes during the past few months to get away from Moscow,” said Judy. “Fleeing the Germans long before the battle. Ivana, why didn’t you go then?”
“Yes, yes, those with money or companions or relatives to see all hurried away to the east. I had no means to travel and nowhere to go.”
“What about your family?” Judy asked gently. “Do you have family members in the army?”
“My sons are in the Red Army,” she said quietly, lowering her gaze to the blanket. “I have heard nothing from them for over a year.”
“Where’s your husband?” Jane asked.
“He was taken.” Ivana’s voice was almost a whisper. She lowered her head, hiding her face.
“You don’t mean by the Germans, do you?” Judy whispered slowly.
Ivana shook her head, wiping away tears.
Even Jane understood that the NKVD had taken her husband.
Judy leaned closer to her, still whispering. “Do you know why?”
“No. It was two years ago, when so many were taken. They gave no reason and I have heard nothing.”
Judy nodded.
Jane glanced at the people around them. If they were listening, they were pretending otherwise. However, Ivana had become a liability to them. With her husband arrested, she herself might be under the watch of the secret police. Her neighbors would not befriend her for fear that they, too, would come under the scrutiny of the NKVD.
“Have you been in this work brigade long?” Jane asked. “Staying here?”
“Oh, yes.” Ivana nodded, apparently glad to change the subject. “I’ve been in it for a couple of months. My own building was destroyed by shelling, so I had to come here. But it’s not a bad place. The shelter is good and they always have food here.”
“Do you know most of the people? At least by sight?” Jane leaned closer, too.
“I suppose. I don’t talk to very many people.” She shrugged, embarrassed.
“How about the other work brigades? Do you work alongside others?”
“Sometimes, yes. Not always. Our location each day is different. So long as we dig the ditches, no one cares which brigade we are next to or where we dug the day before.”
Jane turned to Judy. “I want to get Hunter. She might be able to help us locate … our friend.”
“All right,” said Judy. “Good idea. I’ll stay here with Ivana.”
Jane stood up and patiently worked her way over to Hunter. Now that the crowd had finished dinner and had taken their positions for the night, with some of them stretched out to relax, the way was more difficult. It took her a minute or a little more to reach him. He protectively watched her progress.
“Come and meet someone,” she said quickly. “I think she can help us.” She turned to point to Judy and Ivana.
They were gone.
4
HUNTER LOOKED WHERE Jane pointed. He saw the empty blanket neatly arranged on the floor. Then he scanned the room quickly for Judy and saw her by the door.
Two men in long, black wool overcoats were escorting Jane and an elderly woman out the front door of the warehouse. In the front, where others could see them, the crowd in the warehouse had fallen silent. Yet they also looked away, at each other or at their belongings, pretending not to notice as they kept their hands busy with little tasks.
“Who are they?” Jane whispered.
“Perhaps they are NKVD agents,” Hunter whispered back. “I would guess that they must be.”
“Oh, no.” Jane clutched his arm. “I’m sure they are. Ivana’s husband — that’s the old woman’s name — was taken by them a couple of years ago.”
“I have to get Judy back,” said Hunter, feeling a surge of tension from the First Law. “You will be much safer here than chasing the NKVD with me. Do you agree?”
“Yes. I’m sure I’ll be fine right here. I’ll stay here in the crowd and lie low. And I have my lapel pin to call you if I need to.”
“Good.” Hunter had no doubt that he could trust Jane’s judgment; unlike Steve, she had never caused trouble by improvising her moves. “In this crowd, of course, you will be in danger of being overheard if I call you, so I cannot.”
Jane nodded. “Get going.”
Hunter did not want to be seen leaving the warehouse. While Judy and Jane had returned the dishes and had spoken to Ivana, he had studied the layout of the building itself. Moving casually with his overcoat bundled under one arm, he worked his way to the rest room and went inside.
As he had surmised, its outside wall had one long, vertical window in a wooden casement. He turned on the water in the sink to create noise and pulled the window open with a creak and a low rumble. Then he turned off the water, slipped outside, and slowly pulled the window down again. It made more noise, but now he knew it would not be too loud. Once it was closed, he shook out his overcoat and put it on.
In the cold, clear winter night, Hunter turned and jogged toward the front of the warehouse.
Judy was scared as the men took her and Ivana out the front door. They were not rough, but held their prisoners’ arms firmly. Outside, they pushed Judy forward against a large, black car without a word and frisked her.
She and Ivana were put into the back of the car. The men had not spoken at all. They got in, slammed the doors, started the engine, and pulled away from the warehouse.
Ivana was quivering in terror, speechless and beyond tears. Judy reached over and held her hand. Ivana did not seem to notice.
Judy’s studies had taught her that Stalin was responsible for the deaths of more people than any other individual in history. She knew about the labor camps in the Gulag where people were tortured, starved, and worked to death, and about the mass murders committed by his agents here at the front. These people were beyond rational argument.
Truth and accuracy were not valued by this government. Just a few months before this time, the NKVD had threatened to arrest Red Air Force pilots as “panic mongers” when they had honestly reported the German advance toward Moscow. The values of the NKVD were so unpredictable that dealing with them was extremely dangerous.
Judy did not dare speak. Remembering her lapel communicator, however, she reached up and switched it on. The agents had not bothered with a thorough search yet; they might take it from her later. Now, however, Hunter might pick up some sounds through it, such as the engine noise from the car. She knew that the agents had ignored the modest pin as a danger because, in this time, no radio transmitter could be made that small.
The agents had come for Ivana without explanation. Apparently they had taken Judy because she had been with Ivana. That was all Judy knew about them.
She looked out the car window into the darkened city. Searchlights swept the cold, clear sky for enemy planes, but no attack was occurring. Even artillery shells were not falling. She knew that at this time, the German army was virtually immobile with the cold and was running out of both supplies and human energy as winter deepened.
Even with her knowledge of this period, she could not recall exactly when the aerial attacks took place, and when they had been discontinued. Tonight, apparently, Moscow was spared. Hoping that the ride would last a long time, she wondered if the lapel pin was actually transmitting.
When Hunter came around the comer of the warehouse, he found the streets deserted. He saw a single car driving away from the front of the warehouse. He stopped and shifted to his infrared vision, which made visible the silhouettes of Judy and Ivana in the backseat.
Hunter watched for a moment, unsure of what to do. Though he had more physical stamina than a human, even he could not keep up with a car for long, so when it was out of sight and hearing he would lose it.
Suddenly Hunter began to receive the static and engine noise from Judy’s transmitter. He understood that she had switched on her lapel pin. Now he had a chance to follow the car even after it left the range of his aural and visual sensors.
; Before following the car, however, he decided to make himself less conspicuous by altering his appearance. His height was his most obvious feature, so he reduced it to six feet. Naturally, he could not change his total mass, so he remained just as heavy, but he now possessed a very solid, stocky build. He made his face broader to remain consistent with his new body. However, because he wanted Judy to be able to recognize him, he did not change his face very much. On their second mission he had done this, and when Jane had thought he was a buccaneer, she had clubbed him over the head with a belaying pin.
His clothes were now a problem. The bulky overcoat and shirt were still adequate, but his thicker waist threatened to pop the buttons on the waistband of his pants. He slimmed his waist again slightly, putting more mass into his legs. Then he paused to fold under his sleeves and cuffs, since they were now too long for his shorter limbs.
The red taillights of the car were nearly out of sight by now. Hunter could still hear the engine noise through Judy’s transmitter, however. He took off at a run.
The car turned a corner to the right and vanished. Hunter maintained his pace at first. Then, when he heard another vehicle coming up the street behind him, he ducked into the shadow of a doorway.
He lost more time as he waited, but he could not afford to be stopped by military police, or more NKVD agents, or anyone else in authority. At least the streets had very few people out who would notice him or report him. When the way was clear again, he ran as fast as he could, and soon made the same turn himself.
Ahead of him, the red taillights were already vanishing over a slight rise in the street. The black car had now joined a couple of other vehicles going in the same direction. However, with the radio signal to follow, Hunter could still identify the one he followed.
No pedestrians were on this street, either. Though the city was very dark, the clear sky gave Hunter enough moonlight to maneuver. He could hear the radio signal from Judy slowly and inexorably fading as the car drove away from him. Now he hoped that they would stop or at least be delayed before he lost the signal entirely.