"How will we know?"
"We'll have to take more looks. It's the only way to find out."
Ryan selected the year 2051.
In 2051 the first claws had begun to appear. The Soviets had almost won the war. The UN was beginning to bring out the claws in the last desperate attempt to turn the tide of the war.
Ryan landed the time ship at the top of a ridge. Below them a level plain stretched out, criss-crossed with ruins and barbed wire and the remains of weapons.
Kastner unscrewed the hatch and stepped gingerly out onto the ground.
"Be careful," Ryan said. "Remember the claws."
Kastner drew his blast gun. "I'll remember."
"At this stage they were small. About a foot long. Metal. They hid down in the ash. The humanoid types hadn't come into existence, yet."
The sun was high in the sky. It was about noon. The air was warm and thick. Clouds of ash rolled across the ground, blown by the wind.
Suddenly Kastner tensed. "Look. What's that? Coming along the road."
A truck bumped slowly toward them, a heavy brown truck, loaded with soldiers. The truck made its way along the road to i the base of the ridge. Ryan drew his blast gun. He and Kastner stood ready.
The truck stopped. Some of the soldiers leaped down and started up the side of the ridge, striding through the ash.
"Get set," Ryan murmured.
The soldiers reached them, halted a few feet away. Ryan and Kastner stood silently, their blast guns up.
One of the soldiers laughed. "Put them away. Don't you know the war's over?"
"Over?"
The soldiers relaxed. Their leader, a big man with a red face, wiped sweat from his dirty forehead and pushed his way up to Ryan. His uniform was ragged and dirty. He wore boots, split and caked with ash. "That war's been over for a week. Come on! There's a lot to do. We'll take you on back."
"Back?"
"We're rounding up all the outposts. You were cut off? No communications?"
"No," Ryan said.
"Be months before everyone knows the war's over. Come along. No time to stand here jawing."
Ryan shifted. "Tell me. You say the war is really over? But --"
"Good thing, too. We couldn't have lasted much longer." The officer tapped his belt. "You don't by any chance have a cigarette, do you?"
Ryan brought out his pack slowly. He took the cigarettes from it and handed them to the officer, crumpling the pack carefully and restoring it to his pocket.
"Thanks." The officer passed the cigarettes around to his men. They lit up. "Yes, it's a good thing. We were almost finished."
Kastner's mouth opened. "The claws. What about the claws?"
The officer scowled. "What?"
"Why did the war end so -- so suddenly?"
"Counter-revolution in the Soviet Union. We had been dropping agents and material for months. Never thought anything would come of it, though. They were a lot weaker than anyone realized."
"Then the war's really ended?"
"Then the war's really ended?"
"Planted? Crops?"
"Of course. What would you plant?"
Ryan pulled away. "Let me get this straight. The war is over. No more fighting. And you know nothing about any claws? Any kind of weapon called claws?"
The officer's face wrinkled. "What do you mean?"
"Mechanical killers. Robots. As a weapon."
The circle of soldiers drew back a little. "What the hell is he talking about?"
"You better explain," the officer said, his face suddenly hard. "What's this about claws?"
"No weapon was ever developed along those lines?" Kastner asked.
There was silence. Finally one of the soldiers grunted. "I think I know what he means. He means Dowling's mine."
Ryan turned. "What?"
"An English physicist. He's been experimenting with artificial mines, self-governing. Robot mines. But the mines couldn't repair themselves. So the Government abandoned the project and increased its propaganda work instead."
"That's why the war's over," the officer said. He started off. "Let's go."
The soldiers trailed after him, down the side of the ridge.
"Coming?" The officer halted, looking back at Ryan and Kastner.
"We'll be along later," Ryan said. "We have to get our equipment together."
"All right. The camp is down the road about half a mile. There's a settlement there. People coming back from the Moon."
"From the Moon?"
"We had started moving units to Luna, but now there isn't any need. Maybe it's a good thing. Who the hell wants to leave Terra?"
"Thanks for the cigarettes," one the soldiers called back. The soldiers piled in the back of the truck. The officer slid behind the wheel. The truck started up and continued on its way, rumbling along the road.
Ryan and Kastner watched it go.
"Then Schonerman's death was never balanced," Ryan murmured. "A whole new past --"
"I wonder how far the change carries. I wonder if it carries up to our own time."
"There's only one way to find out."
Kastner nodded. "I want to know right away. The sooner the better. Let's get started."
Ryan nodded, deep in thought. "The sooner the better."
They entered the time ship. Kastner sat down with his briefcase. Ryan adjusted the controls. Outside the port the scene winked out of existence. They were in the time flow again, moving toward the present.
Ryan's face was grim. "I can't believe it. The whole structure of the past changed. An entire new chain set in motion. Expanding through every continuum. Altering more and more of our stream."
"Then it won't be our present, when we get back. There's no telling how different it will be. All stemming from Schonerman's death. A whole new history set in motion from one incident."
"Not from Schonerman's death," Ryan corrected.
"What do you mean?"
"Not from his death but from the loss of his papers. Because Schonerman died the Government didn't obtain a successful methodology by which they could build an artificial brain. Therefore the claws never came into existence."
"It's the same thing."
"Is it?"
Kastner looked up quickly. "Explain."
"Schonerman's death is of no importance. The loss of his papers to the Government is the determining factor." Ryan pointed at Kastner's briefcase. "Where are the papers? In there. We have them."
"Schonerman's death is of no importance. The loss of his papers to the Government is the determining factor." Ryan pointed at Kastner's briefcase. "Where are the papers? In there. We have them."
"We can restore the situation by moving back into the past and delivering the papers to some agency of the Government. Schonerman is unimportant. It's his papers that matter."
Ryan's hand moved toward the power switch.
"Wait!" Kastner said. "Don't we want to see the present? We should see what changes carry down to our own time."
Ryan hesitated. "True."
"Then we can decide what we want to do. Whether we want to restore the papers."
"All right. We'll continue to the present and then make up our minds."
The fingers crossing the time map had returned almost to their original position. Ryan studied them for a long time, his hand on the power switch. Kastner held on tightly to the briefcase, his arms wrapped around it, the heavy leather bundle resting in his lap.
"We're almost there," Ryan said.
"To our own time?"
"In another few moments." Ryan stood up, gripping the switch. "I wonder what we'll see."
"Probably very little we'll recognize."
Ryan took a deep breath, feeling the cold metal under his fingers. How different would their world be? Would they recognize anything? Had they swept everything familiar out of existence?
A vast chain had been started in motion. A tidal wave moving through time, altering each continuum, echoing down through all the ages to come. The second part of the war had never happened. Before the claws could be invented the war had ended. The concept of the artificial brain had never been transformed into workable practice. The most potent engine off war had never come into existence. Human energies had turned from war to rebuilding of the planet.