In a moment, Hunter had set the timer in the console. After Jane and Judy were safely inside the big sphere with the duffel bag, he climbed inside and shut the door. As always, the interior was dark and crowded. Then the sphere vanished.
All three of them tumbled onto cold, hard ground in near darkness. The barest hint of sunset was still visible in the west. The sky was clear and the moon threw a gentle light. Their breath frosted in the icy air.
Hunter turned up his hearing and infrared vision to scan the immediate area for danger. They were in open, barren land a short distance from the edge of Moscow. No one was near them. “We are safe for the moment.”
“Where are we?” Judy got to her feet, brushing off her coat. “My ears are cold already.” She untied her scarf from her neck and moved it over her head, knotting it under her chin.
Jane imitated her.
“We are on the outskirts of Moscow,” said Hunter. “I brought us here to avoid appearing right in front of the local people.” He pointed. “The city is blacked out because of the war, but if you look that way, you can see some light leaking out of the shades of windows here and there.”
“I see them,” said Judy.
“Are you warm enough?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah. And walking will help,” said Judy.
“I’m okay,” said Jane. “But I wish Steve had come.”
“The walk will not be as long as it looks,” said Hunter. He shouldered the duffel bag and they started.
“Hunter, have you discussed the chaos theory of history with Judy?”
“Not yet,” said Hunter.
“I’m familiar with it,” said Judy, in a derisive tone. “But I just don’t buy it. Not every little, tiny event is going to change the sweep of major historical trends.”
“In our experience, that has proved to be true of the most insignificant events,” said Hunter.
“I don’t want to hear about any rigid rules,” said Judy. “Now, obviously, we won’t assassinate Stalin or Hitler; we probably couldn’t do it if we tried. Anything less than that is not likely to change the course of World War II from where we stand.”
“You sound like Steve on this subject,” said Jane. “Except that you know your history.”
“Only large-scale changes can alter the flow of history,” said Judy. “I see nothing wrong with an aggressive involvement with events while we’re here.”
“I admit that the most extreme chaos theory of history has not been supported by our actions,” said Hunter. “In our first three missions into the past, we clearly caused certain changes by our very presence and behavior, even though the changes were all very minor. No identifiable changes occurred in our own time.”
“Exactly my point,” said Judy.
“Our remaining problem is this,” Hunter added. “None of us knows exactly when the threshold of change will be crossed. At some point, the sheer weight of the small changes may precipitate a major one. So we must remain very concerned about this principle.”
“I just don’t see how the three of us alone can bring about that much change,” said Judy. “The threshold is pretty high, if you ask me.”
“I shall point out an example pertaining to Egypt,” said Hunter. “During the Napoleonic Wars, a battle was fought in Egypt between the British and French. The French defeat was significant but not ultimately decisive. However, a French soldier digging a trench unearthed the Rosetta stone, which led to the later translation of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. That translation in turn gave archaeologists the ability to read important writings, illuminating many centuries of history.”
“Yeah, I know about that,” said Judy.
“I didn’t,” said Jane. “What you’re saying is that the chaotic result of the French campaign was extremely important in ways that had nothing to do with the war.”
“Yes,” said Hunter.
“We might argue that the Rosetta stone, or something similar, would have been found within a few decades anyway,” said Judy. “Or that making these translations of hieroglyphics did not, after all, make a real difference in the development of society and industry in our own time at all.”
“Isn’t that an odd argument for a historian?” Jane asked. “To suggest that learning about history isn’t important?”
“Wait a minute.” Judy laughed. “I’m just saying that importance is relative.”
“I submit the following,” said Hunter. “Many young people who will enter positions of importance in the Cold War that follows World War II were present in the Battle of Moscow. Altering which of them live or die could change the course of the Cold War, theoretically bringing about the global nuclear war that was in fact just barely avoided during the second half of the twentieth century.”
“Well, I can see that argument. But maybe the individuals wouldn’t matter that much. Maybe the situation dictated decisions, not the individuals. Sometimes that happens.”
“Our immediate concern is MC 4,” said Jane.
“Yes,” said Hunter. “I believe that when MC 4 returns to full size, the First Law will drive him to interfere with the war if he can.”
Jane nodded. “With MC 4’s background in ethics and morality, his interpretation of the First Law will probably have him focus on individuals who make decisions.”
“Judy, where would that take him?” Hunter asked.
“You’re saying he will attempt to interfere with those who give the orders and carry out the mass destruction,” Judy said slowly. “That could take him almost anywhere. Immense suffering takes place on both sides, on all levels. These two regimes both operated on fear and power emanating from the top. Decisions to cooperate and obey orders had to be made all the way down the command structure to the bottom.”
“Sounds horrible,” said Jane.
“It was,” said Judy. “Or, I should say, it is. ”
They walked in silence for a while. As they drew closer, Hunter observed the buildings of Moscow. Clearly, the city was not under attack tonight.
“We must find shelter for the night,” he said. “Judy, where would this be most likely?”
“Well, let me think a minute. We’re in the first week of December 1941. By this time, the German advance has been close to Moscow for several months. It has stalled right now, but Moscow has been bombarded. Many people have fled the city and others have been displaced by the destruction.”
“Are you saying that shelter will be difficult to find?” Hunter asked.
“No. Actually, thousands of people are living in schools and empty warehouses. Soviet factories have been moved east across the Ural mountains to get them away from the Germans, so lots of big buildings are empty. We should be able to join a crowd of people in one of them. After all, it’s only early evening. Everyone will still be awake.”
“Good.”
By the time the team had entered the city streets, Hunter could see that the city was still active in its relative darkness. Crowds of people were trudging home on the sidewalks from their daily responsibilities, a few laughing and talking but most quiet and exhausted. From behind all the drapes and shades in the windows, hints of light revealed that people were inside.
Jane wrinkled her nose. “What’s the smell? Something’s burning?”
“Coal,” said Judy. “They burn it to heat buildings. The smoke always smells like that.”
“Yuck.”
Judy nudged Hunter and pointed down one block, where a big truck with an open back had stopped. A large group of people, mostly women, were climbing down and going into the entrance of a building. Hunter changed direction and led his companions down to the entrance.
Two dour men of average height but substantial girth stood by the doors in heavy overcoats and scarves, watching the crowd stream inside.
“We should pose as a family,” said Judy quietly. “They will view us better that way.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Given our looks, let’s present you and Jane as brother and sister; I’ll be a cousin. And you must have some reason for not being in the army.”
“What reason will work?”
“Can you affect an exaggerated limp?”
“Yes, I understand.” Hunter nodded and began to limp on his left leg. “This will fit perfectly with our possession of the military duffel bag. And it is time for us to switch to speaking Russian.”