Steve and Marcia again bought bowls of steaming rice gruel and plates of meat and vegetables to drop into the rice. They sat down at one of the long wooden tables, away from other patrons. Steve ate hungrily.
Next to him, Hunter stood by the end of their bench and looked up and down the street over the heads of the people eating at the nearby tables. Steve glanced up from his bowl and, as before, saw people from many lands crowding the street. They reminded him that Marco Polo really was around here somewhere.
“See anything interesting?” Steve asked. He was just making conversation; he knew very well that Hunter would announce any sighting of significance.
“I recognize many of the people I saw at this hour on our first morning. I conclude they are living a regular routine, but this is irrelevant to our immediate goals.”
“Well, what about those goals?” Marcia asked, between mouthfuls. “I’d feel much more comfortable if we could rescue Jane.”
“I feel responsible for her,” said Hunter. “However, I know that Ishihara will not let her come to harm. In contrast, we are racing Wayne to locate and apprehend MC 5. That search remains more urgent.”
“We don’t have to repeat this whole line of argument again, do we?” Steve shook his head. “Waynewants us to be distracted by Jane’s kidnapping. That alone should tell us that searching for her is not in our best interest.”
“I accept your logic,” said Hunter. “If I develop the slightest reason to believe that she might be in danger, however, the First Law will alter my priorities.”
“Okay, understood,” said Steve. “And I just realized something else that’s important here-Jane’s presence will actually help us, since Ishihara is now forced by the First Law to protect two humans.”
“That’s true,” said Marcia. “She’ll either be with them both, or Wayne will have to leave her imprisoned somewhere. I wonder what Ishihara would do then.”
“My own interpretation of the First Law would require me to remain with her,” said Hunter. “I would judge Wayne more capable of taking care of himself than a human who was held against her will.”
“Wouldn’t you want to keep them together?” Steve asked. “So you could protect both humans? Come to think of it, wouldn’t you insist?”
“That’s right,” said Marcia. “You behave that way to some degree with us.”
“Ideally, we would remain together,” said Hunter. “However, I cannot guarantee exactly what interpretation of the First Law Ishihara will make.”
“I think that if we search for MC 5, we may very well come across all three of them,” said Steve. “And if we just get MC 5 first, we can save Jane after that.”
“We have already discussed the heart of this matter,” said Hunter. “I agree that our search for MC 5 should lead us to Jane.”
“Then what’s our plan of action?” Steve asked.
“Our original plan, of finding Marco Polo, is still good,” said Hunter. “We allowed ourselves to be fooled, and I share responsibility for how easily we were drawn out of Khanbaliq. Even so, our goal remains sound.”
“Well, as far as I know, he’s here at home somewhere,” said Marcia.
“Wherever that is,” said Steve. “But instead of just asking around, and letting Wayne and Ishihara sucker us again, we should think of a more reliable way of finding him.”
“We could go to the imperial palace of Kublai Khan,” said Marcia. “Someone there-probably lots of people-must know where he lives.”
“Lots of people?” Steve asked.
“Servants, mostly. Couriers who take messages back and forth-that kind of thing.”
Steve nodded. “Makes sense.”
“I prefer not to risk that,” said Hunter. “Any involvement on our part with the palace is more likely to alter the future significantly than our dealings with common citizens. I want to avoid the palace if we can accomplish our goals without going there.”
“Okay, what do you suggest?” Steve leaned back from his empty bowl.
“Perhaps some of the other foreign dignitaries or traders will know the residence of Marco Polo,” said Hunter. “We certainly have many of them to ask. Marcia, what do you think? Will they cooperate?”
“It’s possible.” Marcia shrugged. She, too, had finished her breakfast. “It’s as good as asking people on the street at random. I would suggest that you do the asking, however, in your role as a fellow foreign trader.”
“I understand,” said Hunter. “All right. I will make this attempt.”
“Let’s stay right here,” Steve said to Marcia.“After all, we belong to the conquered people. Maybe he’ll do better without us.”
“Good point,” said Marcia, with a trace of surprise in her voice.
Steve grinned. “Well, I’m learning.”
Steve and Marcia watched Hunter walk out to the street. As usual, he towered over everyone around him. Hunter let the Chinese pass him. Steve saw him stop two men with dark curly beards and speak to them briefly.
“Where are they from?” Steve asked.
“Persia, I would say by their clothes.”
Steve nodded, still watching Hunter.
The two men shook their heads and continued on their way down the street.
Hunter glanced around and approached a man in a long, colorfully embroidered robe. This man listened but did not stop walking. He merely shook his head and hurried past.
“How about that guy?” Steve asked.
“Maybe a Turk. I’m not sure.”
“Hey, what about these two?” Steve nodded toward two other men whom Hunter had stopped. Both men were tall, with black hair and long, angular faces with carefully trimmed black beards. They wore white turbans and long, flowing robes. As one stood by impatiently, the other nodded and pointed with one arm.
“Arabs,” Marcia said firmly.
“I guess they know something,” said Steve.
After a moment, Hunter nodded and the two Arabs walked on their way.
“Come on.” Steve got up and led Marcia over to Hunter. “Well? Did they know where to find him?”
“I have directions to the residence of Marco Polo. The man who pointed is a trader. In the course of his business, he has met Marco Polo and was once a guest briefly at his home. He does not know if Marco Polo is present today.”
“We obviously should have done this the first time,” said Steve.
“I had no idea it would be this easy,” said Marcia. “This is embarrassing.”
“If we had begun this way, Wayne might have also altered his plan to send us up to the Great Wall,” said Hunter. “We did not make a simple mistake before; we were deliberately misled. However, the house of Marco Polo is nearby.”
“Lead on,” said Steve.
Hunter took them at a brisk walk down the crowded street toward the center of the city. The imperial palace rose above the other buildings in this area. Hunter saw that under the hot and unrelenting morning sun, Steve and Marcia were sweating heavily. He slowed down.
After several blocks, Hunter turned right along a smaller street. Here, tall trees lined the street, shading it from the sun. High walls of painted brick hid the houses from view except for their roofs, visible through treetops within each compound. The roofs were made of glazed tile that shone in the sunlight.
“This is it,” Hunter said. He stopped at double doors set into a round archway in the wall. This wall was white; the doors were red. A small brass bell hung on the hook to one side of the doors.
“The home of Marco Polo,” Marcia said quietly, looking up at the roof beyond the treetops. “Wow.”