“You have the ship and the crew and I have the information.” Wayne jerked his thumb toward the sea. “The Hungry Hawk is under sail even as we speak.”
Tomann grinned suddenly, slammed his fist down on the table, and leaped to his feet. “Aye! Let’s go. The Old Laughing Lady is a schooner that can outsail that fat old brig on any sea, in any weather!”
Wayne smiled with relief and stood up. The barkeeper came forward.
“Captain,” said the barkeeper. “Since I brought you two together, I believe a consideration for your humble servant is in order here.”
Tomann whirled on him, drawing his cutlass in a wild, sweeping motion. The barkeeper jumped back.
“We shall see, my humble friend. If the pigeon is found heavy in the water, I shall bring a trinket back home for you. Until then, back away.”
The barkeeper did so.
“Come on, friend,” Tomann added to Wayne. “We have a crew to gather.” He sheathed his cutlass and strode out.
Wayne hurried after him.
Steve grinned as he trotted after Hunter. The big robot was carrying a massive armload of lumber on one shoulder, under the front end of the planks. He was easily able to carry the load, but Steve was hustling along under the rear end of the lumber, pretending to help so that passersby wouldn’t notice just how impossibly strong Hunter was. In addition, Hunter was carrying a bunch of woodworking tools in his other arm.
Jane walked alongside Steve, amused by the masquerade.
Hunter kept walking after the docks ended. The trio wove their way through a variety of other work areas and warehouses along the water before they finally left the occupied areas behind. Then Hunter stopped and turned to look back over his shoulder, carefully checking to see that he did not strike Steve or Jane as he lowered his load to the sand.
“I have devised a plan to work from,” said Hunter. “Partly from my stored data and partly from observing the ships in the bay. With these manual tools, I will be able to work much faster than either of you.”
“I can still do whatever you say,” said Steve. “Even a few minutes saved will help in the long run.”
“Agreed,” said Hunter. “I will give you specific tasks, since I have no way to convey the complete plan.”
“You could draw it in the sand,” said Jane.
“I dare not leave any record, even in sand,” said Hunter. “If anyone seems to take particular notice of our actions, please inform me.”
“I can help, too,” said Jane. “I think.”
“I do not doubt it,” said Hunter. “But I fear that a woman doing such work with us might attract attention in this time, and that would be unwise.”
“I suppose.” Jane shrugged. “Then I’ll stand around and supervise.”
“You cannot supervise without knowing the plan,” said Hunter.
“That’s another joke, Hunter,” said Steve.
“Ah. Was it funny?”
“No,” said Steve. “Now, then. How do we start?”
Hunter worked through the afternoon, doing most of the labor. He was not only faster than Steve, but also more precise in his work. Jane watched for company, but few people came so far from the center of the waterfront. Those who did walk by on the beach took no notice. Steve could see that among the buccaneers, minding one’s own business was a survival trait, and woodworking was common along the docks anyway.
“There’s another one,” said Steve, standing up from a newly sawed board to wipe sweat from his face. “This climate is great for you, Hunter, because the sun beats down constantly on your solar collectors. But I need a break.”
“Of course,” said Hunter, without looking up from his chisel and hammer. “Suit your own need, as you wish.”
“I want to dunk myself in the water,” said Steve, turning to Jane. “Walk with me?”
“Sure.”
Steve wanted to talk to Jane alone for a moment. He led her to the edge of the water and they waded along the surf, away from Hunter. Steve knew that if Hunter wanted to monitor their conversation, he could turn up his hearing to do so; the robot could probably even filter out the sound of the breakers. However, Hunter probably wouldn’t bother.
Steve put his arm around Jane and leaned close to her ear. “Any idea what our chances are now?”
“Of catching MC 2, you mean?”
“Yeah. I mean, snagging MC 1 was a lot simpler in the dinosaur age. No other humans lived in that time to complicate the search. Now we have all these pirates to worry about.”
“That’s true, but this world isn’t as complex as ours. I think if we can catch that ship, we’ll still have a reasonable chance of finding MC 2.”
“Even with all those pirates around?” He glanced back over his shoulder. Hunter was working hard, but of course he could be listening without appearing to be.
“Well, it all depends on Hunter right now.” Jane stopped and watched the surf splash around her legs, holding her skirt up with one hand. “Without his robotic abilities, we wouldn’t be able to get this little sailboat made. If I can keep Hunter focused on action, instead of on frustration over the First Law, then he’ll be worth any number of buccaneers.”
“I don’t doubt that part.”
“What really makes me angry is Rita’s lack of professionalism, running off like that.” Her tone was hard.
“I know,” Steve let himself fall into the cool water on his back, then spat out water and regained his footing. “I have to say, this life-style seems pretty carefree. Fruit and fish everywhere, the sea and the beaches, and a feeling of adventure.”
“Not you, too.”
“No, not really. Let’s start back.”
By the time the sun was low in the west and the fishing boats were coming in, Hunter had cut and shaped all the wood. Steve had done what little he could. Most of all, he was glad to feel the cool air of evening.
“Dinnertime,” said Steve. “Tonight I wish Jane and I could just get what we need from the sunlight, but it won’t work for us.”
Hunter looked up at both of them.
“We can leave you here to keep working,” said Jane.
“No,” said Hunter. “The waterfront is too violent at night. I will come with you.”
“I had a hunch you would,” said Steve.
Rita stretched out on the deck of the Hungry Hawk after dark like the rest of the buccaneers, except for those on duty. The masts and sails rose high above her, their tops now beyond the reach of the torchlight on deck. Dinner had been fairly good, a sort of stew. On their first night out of port, the fresh meat and produce were still good. She knew that in such a warm climate, the fare would quickly turn to salted fish and pork, and hard biscuits.
Roland had picked out a spot in a corner of the deck toward the stern for the three of them. They were right under the rail, wadding up some empty burlap bags he had brought to use as pillows. MC 2 lay down near Rita, still imitating the behavior of the humans around him. Roland sat down on her other side.
“Faring well, sweet lady?” Roland whispered.
“Well enough.” She looked out over the water, where the moon was rising.
“A fair night.”
“Yes, it is.” She decided to ask him some of the questions she had been considering, hoping that this would be a good time. Still looking away from him, she spoke casually. “Tell me about your travels.”
“My travels?” He sounded surprised.
“That’s right.”
“Well, I was born to a London waterfront family. Nothing to speak of there, except the ships were always coming and going. So I grew up wanting to get out, and the sea was the way to go.” He shrugged.
“How old were you?”
“I was an eleven-year-old cabin boy on a trader to Holland and back first. Later, I came out this way.”
“When did you, uh…”
“Join the buccaneers?” He grinned. “I jumped ship off a brig in Tortuga a few years ago. Liked the climate and the freedom. Then I came to Port Royal with some shipmates just last year. It was too crowded in Tortuga.” He shrugged. “It’s a better life than I ever had in Old England.”