A moment later, Steve tumbled to the ground among some green plants. The air felt cool but not uncomfortable. To his right, the sun was low over the horizon. Hunter, Jane, and Marcia had landed right next to him.
They were sitting up on fairly level ground in some sort of cultivated field. Steve did not recognize the tall green stalks around them, which blocked their visibility beyond a few meters. He pushed himself up to a sitting position.
“Is anyone hurt?” Hunter asked.
“I’m fine,” said Marcia.
“Me, too,” said Jane. “I’m okay.” said Steve, getting to his feet and pulling his robe straight. Now he could see over the stalks around him. “But we don’t have much daylight left. Where are we going from here, Hunter?”
Hunter stood up and pointed to the west. The glare of the sun nearly hid the sight of some high walls and towers in that direction. “That is Khanbaliq.”
“Let’s get going,” said Steve, hoisting the cloth bag. He pushed his way through some of the stalks. “ Anybody know what this stuff is?”
“Chinese sorghum,” said Marcia, glancing at it as she stood and adjusted her own robe. “It’s a common crop here, and closely related to the western variety.”
Now that Steve was standing, he could see people walking toward the city on a nearby road. “We’re lucky we landed in this field, Hunter. Otherwise, we would have landed in plain sight of those people.” A dry breeze blew dust along the ground.
“That’s true,” said Jane, brushing dust off her robe. “If they see us walking out of the sorghum field, I hope they don’t ask us what we were doing here.”
“Lodging for the night is a bigger worry,” said Hunter, pushing his way forward through the plants. “Steve is right. We must walk.”
“Is it always so dusty?” Jane asked.
“Yes,” said Marcia. “The soil is called loess, comprised of deep layers of dust brought here by prevailing easterly winds from the west.”
Rolling his eyes impatiently, Steve gestured for Jane and Marcia to follow Hunter. As usual, Steve went last. Gradually, they picked their way through the stalks and reached the dirt road.
Poorly dressed, barefoot peasants were leaving the city. Some rode empty carts pulled by ponies or donkeys. Others led their work animals on ropes at a walk because their carts still contained some unsold produce.
Other people, better dressed, walked or rode on the way into the city. Many of them stared at Hunter and Jane in astonishment. The remainder plodded past without noticing them, perhaps too weary to look up.
Steve strode up next to Jane as the team began walking on the road toward Khanbaliq. “I can see that the people leaving town are farmers. But who are all these people going into the city with us?”
“I don’t know.” Jane turned to Marcia. “Is this a normal day, do you think? Or is something special happening?”
“In this time of peace and relative prosperity, I would say this is a normal day. I believe the people heading back into the city are merchants and maybe even scholars. They either have arrived from other cities the way we will claim to have done, or else they made day trips to nearby villages.”
“Commuters, you mean.” Steve grinned.
“Well-yes,” she said stiffly.
Steve laughed, not at his little joke but at the fact that Marcia didn’t even seem to recognize it as a joke. Jane elbowed him, scowling. Steve shook his head, openly showing his amusement.
“Marcia, do you expect we will have any problem finding lodging?” Hunter asked. “If the city has many visitors, they may have filled the inns already.”
“I don’t expect a problem,” said Marcia.
Hunter turned to Jane. “Do you have any thoughts about where we should begin searching for MC 5?”
“Well, MC 5 specialized in the administration of Mojave Center. I think he will almost certainly be drawn to the heart of the government.”
“In this society, that is ultimately the Emperor himself,” said Marcia.
3
The team walked in silence as they slowly drew closer to the towering walls of Khanbaliq. The sun sank lower in the west beyond the massive walls. Steve was glad he did not have to listen to another lecture from Marcia.
As the team approached the city gate, Steve saw several guards impatiently waiting for sundown, when they could close the gate for the night. They wore full armor and sword belts, and each had a spear in one hand. As they leaned on their spears, they talked quietly to each other.
“Maybe the guards can direct us,” said Hunter.
“Possibly so,” said Marcia.
“I wouldn’t ask them,” Steve said quickly. “Guys in a job like that are trained to be suspicious of people from outside. At least, wait till we’re inside and then ask them.”
“Very well,” said Hunter. “However, I see that they are not questioning anyone. Everyone simply walks through.”
“They don’t have modem immigration problems at a city gate in this time,” said Marcia. “In times of war, they watch out for the enemy, of course, and sometimes in peace they are concerned with bandits. In this time, however, the country is really secure. The city wall is just a precaution against trouble in the future.”
No one on the team spoke as they walked through the gate. Steve avoided the eyes of the guards, who in any case were staring at Jane and Hunter. Once the team passed inside the gate without incident, Hunter stopped and turned to a short, stocky guard who had turned to watch Hunter walk past.
“We are travelers from a far land,” Hunter said in a formal tone. “Where can we find lodging in your city?”
The guard stiffened in surprise at being addressed. “Oh, uh…”
His partner, a slightly taller, slender man, stepped forward. “Many foreign visitors live near each other in one neighborhood. Is this where you would like to go?”
“We would,” said Hunter. “Where can we find this neighborhood?”
“It is near the palace,” said the guard, pointing. “Eight blocks east along this avenue, then turn to your right. I might suggest the Inn of the White Swan.” He grinned ingratiatingly. “You might tell them the guards at the west gate sent you.”
“Thank you.” Hunter turned, gesturing for his team to follow. He led the way up the avenue in silence until they were out of the hearing of the guards. “Marcia, is this information consistent with yours?”
“Yes. Many of the foreigners here live near the palace so they can attempt to get audiences with either the Emperor or important ministers.”
Steve looked up and down the streets as they walked. Despite the growing darkness people remained out everywhere. Merchants were lighting candles’ inside paper lanterns hanging from poles to light their shops.
“The shops are staying open, aren’t they?” Steve asked. “Is that normal?”
“In the summer, yes,” said Marcia. “People like being out in the evening when it’s cool, so the merchants try to attract their business then.”
“And all these streets are laid out on a right-angle grid,” said Jane. “It looks very modern. I guess I expected narrow, twisted streets going every which way.”
“Cities of that sort grew spontaneously,” said Marcia, in her formal tone. “Khanbaliq was a planned city, laid out from the beginning as Kublai Khan’s capital.”
“Was it the first?” Jane asked. “As an example of urban planning, I mean.”
“No. I don’t know which city in the world has that honor.” Marcia shook her head. “I know that in China, the Tang Dynasty capital of Changan was built during Europe’s Dark Ages on a right-angle grid.”