“Great climate, huh?” Steve spread his arms expansively. “Light breeze, blue water, tropical flowers everywhere. I never see anything like this in the Mojave Desert.”
“It’s beautiful here,” Jane agreed. She was still watching Hunter, but he now seemed to be acting almost normally as he looked at and listened to their surroundings.
“Pretty carefree life-style around here, isn’t it?” Steve nodded toward a woman chasing a couple of barefoot toddlers around a fruit stand.
“Yes, it is,” Jane said, amused at thescene.
“Hey, not you, too. Come on. You can still enjoy the climate while we look for Rita.”
“I have to admit, I’m worried about her. This is a pirate town, after all.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, me, too. But do you have any ideas about how to find her?”
“No, not really.”
They continued to search for another hour without success. Even when the buccaneers who had been carousing the night before stumbled out to start their day, they were hung over. None of them were especially belligerent, but Hunter couldn’t find anyone who could tell them where to find Roland.
“I have a suggestion,” Steve said finally. “If it won’t upset your First Law.”
“Yes?” Hunter stopped to look at him.
“We really should split up and look through more of the town than the waterfront.”
“I cannot risk-”
“Separating from either of us, I know,” said Steve quickly. “Look, we aren’t going to run out on you. And now we each have communicators. Jane and I will go together; if we run into any kind of problem, at least one of us can call you.”
“I’ll stay with Hunter,” said Jane. “In case we have to discuss the First Law more.”
“Then I’ll be fine alone,” said Steve.
“Very well,” said Hunter. “You will be careful?”
“Promise,” said Steve.
7
As Steve jauntily marched away down a side street, Jane watched Hunter carefully.
“Hunter,” said Jane. “This question of your efficiency under the First Law came up during our last mission. I know that a clear, serious failure to obey the First Law can force a positronic robot to shut down. How close are you to making that decision?”
“I am not approaching that point yet.”
“For the same reason you functioned through this doubt last time, as well?”
“Yes. My responsibility to take care of you and Steve forces me to continue functioning longer than I might in our own time, where you could better take care of yourselves or find another robot to help you.”
“Good,” said Jane. “You’re right; we need you and so does the larger mission to find MC 2. Please focus on the fact that we have no one to take your place.”
“Agreed,” said Hunter.
Rita woke up with a surge of excitement at the first hints of dawn shining through the cracks around the closed wooden window. She dressed quickly and unbarred the door. Pausing to take a deep breath, she walked downstairs.
“Good morning, sweet lady,” said Roland, waving to her. He got up from the chair in which he had apparently been waiting for her. “I shall take you to breakfast.”
“I, urn, need a water pump to wash up and the private facilities.”
“Outside in the back,” said the tavernkeeper, who was wiping the bar.
When Rita had freshened up the best she could, she joined Roland again.
“I shall take you to the best stall in town,” said Roland, turning to the left. “It’s away from the waterfront about a block. On the docks, these drunken louts don’t always care what they eat.”
Rita laughed and walked with him. She liked looking around at the sights, enjoying the feeling that she was a part of the seventeenth century. Roland couldn’t tell just how much of a stranger she was to Port Royal; that was the best compliment to her expertise she had ever received.
Hunter could certainly find MC 2 without her; she had given them a lot of basic information about Port Royal’s history and culture already. She told herself that Hunter and his party didn’t really need her. Right now, she wouldn’t even mind if they went home without her.
After all, Hunter was the one who believed that almost any small action could change all of human history in the future. That sounded crazy to her, at least in this case. Suppose she spent the rest of her life in Jamaica. All she would have to do was be careful and stay out of Port Royal in 1692, when the big earthquake would drown the town forever. That would happen in twenty-four years. Certainly she wouldn’t ever do anything that would change history.
“Here we are,” Roland said cheerily, gesturing at a crowded open-air stall. “Buns, sweet cakes, meat pastries, dried fish, fresh fish, and fresh fruit. What is your pleasure?”
“Uh…I’m not sure. You know this place. Get me the best they have.”
“As you wish, of course. Are you a little hungry, or very hungry, or somewhere in between?”
“I’m very hungry.”
“Ah! I’m glad.”
Roland ordered two of nearly everything and carried it all on a couple of wide, green leaves to a plank table and bench. As Rita sat down, he went back to the proprietor and returned with two mugs of some kind of herbal tea. She bit carefully into one of the buns and found it quite good.
Rita ate quickly, being too hungry to indulge in conversation. Roland watched her with interest, pushing one item after another toward her. The dried fish was very salty, of course, as was the meat in the meat pastry. On the other hand, the bananas were exactly the same as in her own time, though a little more bruised.
“I have a bit of business,” Roland said after a while. “You will sit and wait for me here?”
“I’d like to see the sights,” said Rita. “I’ll hurry if you can wait.”
“Oh, I dare not take you with me this time.” Roland grinned and rested one hand on his sword hilt.
“Uh-oh.” She looked up at him in surprise. “You mean, uh, you might-”
“It’s probably nothing,” said Roland. “But I would not take you into such danger. Will you wait for me here, even after you’ve finished your breakfast?”
“Of course I will,” she said, flattered by his concern. “I’ll wait right here. Besides, this stuff is good. Um-am I safe here?”
“Aye, you’ve been seen with me.” With another quick grin, he rose from his seat and slipped away through the growing crowd.
She watched him go, admiring his lithe, energetic walk. He looked as though he would be a good fencer, quick and agile. She wondered if he would get into a duel with some other buccaneer. They could be fighting over money, of course, or something more complicated. She also wondered if he would live. From the viewpoint of her own time, of course, he was long dead of one cause or another. He just didn’t know what would kill him or when it would happen.
Dr. Wayne Nystrom sat in the shade of an awning which extended over the front of a tavern. It was a more expensive spot than most of the waterfront dives, catering to the wealthier customers, sometimes even nobility, who passed through Port Royal. He sipped a mug of herbal tea, waiting patiently.
Wayne had arrived two days before, estimating that MC 2 would return to his normal size about then. Since he wanted to maximize his chance of finding the fugitive robot, he did not just rely on his own personal search. He had struck up a conversation with a friendly young buccaneer and hired him to look for several individuals.
When Roland came into sight, Wayne waved to him. They had arranged to rendezvous at the tavern this morning. Roland grinned and sat down.
“I bid you good morning,” said Roland, glancing at the comfortable surroundings. “I don’t doubt your wealth, Wayne, after you paid me in hard coin a few days ago instead of bartering with me, as most buccaneers would. But you certainly don’t dress like a rich man.”
“I’m wealthy enough to dress as I please.” Wayne took another drink of his herbal tea, hiding behind the cup. “Order as you wish, as my guest.”
Wayne was still wearing the casual clothes of his own time that he had been wearing when he had arrived in Mojave Center. His journey into the past had been rushed and unplanned, leaving him no chance to prepare ahead of time. He had arrived with a backpack containing a change of clothes and some personal items. Selling a brightly colored machine-knit sweater to a drunken buccaneer had brought enough money to pay Roland and eat at a cheap booth, with some coins left over. He had only come to the tavern to drink tea in order to make an impression on Roland.