“That’s right,” said Ned. “Quinn is sailing on the midday tide, but he has a full crew. Baldy Jim here tried to join him and they put him off.”
“All right,” Roland said quickly, tossing them both another coin. “Here’s what we’ll do. Bring a dinghy around, quick. Quinn owes me a few favors. We’re going to the rag heap, then we’ll meet you at the dock.”
“Right-o,” said Ned.
All the humans left the shed. MC 2 remained impassively on the keg. Rita couldn’t talk to him alone, and she didn’t want the buccaneers, even Roland, to know that she had special knowledge about their captive.
“I’ll watch him,” said Roland, “No need to lock it.”
While the other two men went to find a dinghy, Roland led Rita without a word to a pile of refuse on the far side of the shed. Most of it was rags, but he pulled out a couple of torn articles of clothing that were basically still whole. He tossed them to her.
“You’re much too ladylike, sweet lady. We’re going on board a ship. Look as ragged and dirty as you can, and like a cabin boy if possible.”
A thrill of excitement hit Rita all at once. She was actually going on board a pirate ship about to set sail. Anxiously, she shook out the old clothes he tossed her. Finally she found a pair of loose, baggy pants, a tattered, patched man’s shirt, and a torn leather vest that she could wear over it.
“These will fit,” said Rita, with a reluctant, wry smile.
“Change in the shed,” said Roland. “I’ll have our friend come out and stand with me.”
9
Soon Rita was dressed in filthy, baggy clothes, carrying her others in a tight bundle. She followed Roland and MC 2 to the nearest dock. Ned and Baldy Jim were waiting there with a dinghy that tossed lightly on the waves.
“Get in, Shorty,” Ned said to MC 2.
MC 2 obeyed without speaking and found a seat in the middle. Roland helped Rita climb down into the boat, then followed her. The buccaneers pushed off and began to row. Roland also took an oar and pointed to another for MC 2, who took it obediently.
Rita breathed in the sea air and let the spray hit her as it came over the side of the boat. Slowly but steadily, they drew nearer the big anchored ships. She searched her memory for the political situation in the Caribbean in 1668.
England, France, and Spain were at peace with each other. That meant the buccaneers couldn’t get legal commissions from the governor of Jamaica as privateers. So when their money ran low, they would just go out and pirate a ship on their own, as outlaws. As long as their prey was not British, however, they had some confidence that the governor would look the other way.
Soon Rita saw that they were rowing for a brigantine named the Hungry Hawk. It was a two-masted square-rigger, well-weathered. The ship had not seen fresh paint for a long time, but the sails and ropes were in good condition. Sailors on board saw them coming and began yelling to each other.
“Ahoy!” Roland cupped his hands around his mouth. “Ahoy the Hungry Hawk. Where’s Captain Quinn?”
The sailors shouted for their captain, who came striding to the rail. Rita was hoping, despite her historical knowledge, that he might be a wild-looking character with a villainous stare, but of course she knew better than to expect that much melodrama. Captain Quinn was a man of average height and medium build with a brown beard. He wore a plain linen shirt and knee breeches, like most of his buccaneer colleagues, but he also wore a broad-brimmed hat with a blue plume.
“You’re too late, Roland,” called Captain Quinn. “We have a full crew already.”
“I have some trouble,” Roland shouted back. “And a couple of friends with me.”
Captain Quinn frowned and studied the group in the dinghy. “How many altogether?”
“Three of us. We need to get out of Port Royal for a bit. Can you help?”
“Come on, then.” Captain Quinn waved for his men to throw down a rope ladder.
Rita could see that Roland’s need to leave town was the kind of argument that Captain Quinn and the other buccaneers understood easily. She waited to see what Roland wanted her to do, remembering that she was masquerading as a cabin boy if the buccaneers would buy that. If they didn’t, she would have to hope that Roland could protect her on board the ship.
Roland grabbed the rope ladder and climbed up a few rungs. Then he motioned for Rita to follow. She took hold of the rough, thick rope carefully and felt the lowest rung sag slightly under her weight. When she started climbing, though, she found it fairly easy to do.
“You next,” Roland called down to MC 2.
MC 2 obediently began to follow Rita. After what seemed like a very long, slow, clumsy climb, she finally reached the rail of the ship. Roland took her arm and helped her over the rail onto the deck, then did the same with MC 2.
“Captain, these two young fellows are Rye and Shorty,” said Roland, tapping Rita and MC 2 on the shoulder in turn. “They don’t speak much and I like it that way. But they’ll do as I say on board.”
“Fair enough.” Captain Quinn nodded to both of them. “You’ve always been a fine man to have, Roland. But tell me, now. How serious is the trouble in town?”
“It’s not the governor,” said Roland, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “A very big, brawny fellow and his mates are out to do harm to my young friends, here. We just need to give them time to cool off.”
“I understand. You see your boys pull their own weight in the work.” He glanced over the side to Ned and Baldy Jim, who were still waiting. “Them, too, I guess?”
“They’re good men, with many months on the seas,” said Roland. “They’ve hauled in plenty of Spanish gold in their time.”
“All right.” Captain Quinn turned to another man. “Help them pull that dinghy aboard.” He slapped Roland on the back and walked away.
Rita let out a quiet sigh of relief. Roland winked at her. MC 2 remained motionless.
“I’m sorry I lost Wayne, Hunter,” said Steve, looking up and down the waterfront.
“At least we known for sure he is nearby,” said Hunter. “If he has learned more about MC 2 than we have, then his presence is further evidence that MC 2 may be here too.”
“Thanks for the nice words,” said Steve. “But I still feel lousy. I shouldn’t have lost him.”
“Every moment that goes by increases the chance that MC 2 is now visible at full size,” said Jane. “Theoretically, he could be anywhere in town, or even somewhere else on the island, but I don’t take that seriously.”
“Why not?” Hunter asked, still looking over the crowd as they walked.
“Once he has reached full size, he will either have to avoid human society completely to be safe from the imperatives of the Three Laws of Robotics, or else he will have to study the local culture very carefully in order to understand the customs and language. That’s the only way he can live among humans and still obey the Laws.”
“Makes sense,” said Steve. “And you pointed out before that he’ll need clothes.”
“Since the nuclear explosion in our own time was centered in the remains of Port Royal, he obviously didn’t go hide out in the mountains to stay,” said Jane. “And if he’s in town, the waterfront is the best location for displaced humans to find their way. Strangers come and go here all the time and no one thinks much of it. Many of them are destitute, too, and that will also camouflage MC 2.”
“This is very logical,” said Hunter. “So we will continue looking for him here.”
“I wish we could do more than just walk around and look,” said Steve.