“Once I have made this device, I can estimate how risky it is,” said Ishihara. “If you are agreeable, I will begin gathering further data and materials at once.”
“Yes, of course. If you have a problem gathering equipment, contact me directly. I have been given unusual authority with the city computer, and I can requisition materials with emergency priority. I am going to visit MC Governor’s office.”
Hunter checked his internal map of Mojave Center again to find MC Governor’s office. Once he had started on his way, he used his radio link with the city computer to access a nationwide list of professionals in various fields. Planetwide and interplanetary lists were also available, but time was important, so the closer he could find willing experts, the sooner they were likely to arrive.
First Hunter had the computer combine the lists, then identify candidates by their fields, availability, and conditions of employment. His first choice was a roboticist at the University of Michigan. She was a young woman named Jane Maynard, who was looking for field research regarding robots. The second was Chad Mora, a young paleontologist whose recent degree had not yet led to any work. Hunter had made these selections by the time he arrived at the office.
When he reached MC Governor’s office, he found the door locked, but ordered the city computer to open it. Inside, he immediately realized that the office had never been intended for regular use. The walls were bare and the only furniture was a chair and a desk with nothing on it. Still, a quick look at the city computer’s architectural image of the office identified all the functional areas. By this time, Hunter was eager to hire his team as soon as possible.
“Computer,” Hunter ordered. “Reach any member of the Governor Robot Oversight Committee. Give that member this request for employment in my project.” He sat down in the chair to wait, aware that humans were sometimes out of touch, unlike those robots who carried their communication devices as part of their design.
“Hunter? R. Ishihara here.” He was radioing directly.
“Yes, Ishihara.”
“I have a list of highly sophisticated technical parts that I need to build the device that will bring you back from the past. The city computer reports that all the parts are present in the city, but a number of them are already in use.”
“Are they in crucial areas involving the First Law?”
“I believe that all of them can be successfully substituted or temporarily discontinued without creating a First Law problem,” said Ishihara. “However, I am not certain.”
“Give me the list.”
Ishihara did so.
“I will contact the city computer. If there is a further problem, I will have it locate and purchase the parts elsewhere.” Hunter broke that connection and contacted the city computer again.
“Please give top priority transfer to R. Ishihara of the following list of parts. If necessary, remove them from current operating locations.” Hunter transferred the list. “Verify that none of these is in irreplaceable positions under the First Law.”
“Verified,” said the computer. “All parts can be provided. Many are in inventory. Of the remainder, substitution and removal from current operating locations can begin immediately.”
“Begin transfer of the parts to R. Ishihara as soon as possible.”
6
While Hunter waited, he studied the Late Cretaceous Period in what was now Alberta, Canada, the place where MC Governor had gone. He also reviewed his data on MC Governor’s disappearance. During this review he noticed that Dr. Nystrom, the inventor of the Governor robots, had spoken to the committee from Mojave Center shortly after MC Governor’s disappearance; apparently he had lost his temper and discontinued the call abruptly. The committee had already judged that Dr. Nystrom knew nothing of value about the mystery. Still, Hunter ordered the city computer to page Dr. Nystrom.
Then, having nothing else to do, he shut down most of his system to save energy. He left open only his communication links. Just under three hours later, the city computer contacted him again.
“R. Hunter, you have a call from Dr. Redfield.”
“Accepted.” Hunter instantly returned to normal operating level. “Hello, Dr. Redfield.”
“Hi! Good news, Hunter.” She smiled brightly. “Our funding was good enough to hire the two people you wanted. They’re on their way.”
“Very good. I have made some limited progress here. Can you give me an expected time of arrival?”
“The city computer has their charter information. If I remember right, they’re due on the same flight tomorrow morning. You can call them at home or in flight if you need earlier contact.”
“I doubt that will be necessary.”
She smiled wryly. “Both of them were willing to join the project, but we had to pay a number of unusual expenses for them to leave home that soon. They will also need briefing when they arrive.”
“That will not take long. The information they will need is minimal.”
“Hunter…” Dr. Redfield hesitated. “The committee assigned you to the job in all confidence, and we still have that. And we all realize that a roboticist might be necessary in your work. But I’ve been wondering-”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure you need a paleontologist?”
Hunter, with his robotic speed, considered his answer carefully. He could see that this was a reasonable question, but he did not want to report any more details of his search for MC Governor than necessary. Setting a precedent of that sort could become a distraction in the future.
“Yes,” he said simply.
Steve Chang sat on a rock in front of his four-meter-square shack on the slope of an unnamed mountain. It was one of a ridge of mountains that ran across the southern edge of the valley in the high desert below him. In the distance the waning red rays of twilight glinted off the solar collectors and water pipes that led down into the new underground city.
With mild curiosity, he had watched it under construction. Robots driving large machinery had dug out a huge hole and then built a big cube inside it with patient but inexorable energy. As long as they didn’t bother him up here, he didn’t care what they did.
This evening he was sorting some new rocks he had gathered during the last few days in a big yellow bucket. He tossed the white quartz into one large pile on his left. The blue-green rocks went to his right. Someday, when he got around to it, he would sit down at the computer inside his shack and access a library to find out what kind of rock the blue-green ones were. They probably bore copper, but he didn’t really care. He collected them because he liked them.
For the last several minutes, however, he had also been watching a small helicopter down on the pad next to the underground city. Flights came and went occasionally, but this one was now flying toward the bluff where he sat. That was very rare.
Steve went on sorting rocks as the helicopter buzzed up the slope, skimming the tops of the occasional joshua trees, grease plants, and outcroppings of bare rock. Finally he stopped to watch in astonishment. Now roaring in his ears, the helicopter slowed and came to a gentle landing in a spot of open sand only fifteen meters away.
“They must be lost,” Steve muttered to himself. “Or had a mechanical failure.” He remained seated.
The engine shut off and three figures climbed out of the helicopter. The leader was a tall, brawny, blond, blue-eyed guy with heroic leading man looks. A pretty young woman walked behind him, holding her long brown hair out of her face as it was blown by the still-spinning propeller. Another young man of average height and weight came last.
All three of them wore new, stylish clothes. Steve was wearing his usual short sleeved western shirt, worn blue jeans, and beat-up cowboy boots. Up on this bluff, though, they were the ones who looked out of place.