“Yeah, I know,” said Steve. “I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”
Steve prepared their day pack and they started out again on foot. He followed his landmarks back to their terminal point of the day before. They picked up the trail again, still wandering through the dense forest on a curving, crisscrossing route.
After only an hour or so, Steve stopped for a moment. “This is silly. He’s not going anywhere. Neither are we. We were in this spot twice yesterday and now today.”
Jane looked down at the tracks, which were thick here. “Is he slowing down? Are those walking tracks instead of running tracks?”
“Yeah.” Steve grinned at her. “You’re learning.”
“What I said yesterday goes double today. He really isn’t trying to escape at all.”
“No, I’d have to agree with you.” Steve studied the footprints around them. “If he wanted to lose us, he could be wading up or down that stream. Then he wouldn’t leave any trail at all. Or he might find some rocky ground somewhere.”
“Yesterday, I thought he was just circling back to watch us. But he’s not just doing that, either, or he would leave even less of a trail, don’t you think?”
“That would make sense,” said Steve. “But I’m just here to track our quarry through the forest. You’re the expert on how robots think.”
“I guess we’ll just have to keep following him,” said Jane. “But I wish I knew why he was hanging around like this.”
“This way,” said Steve.
Hunter rode for the first hour or so, giving most of his attention to his mount. The First Law had him deeply concerned about letting Chad ride with him. Finally, however, Hunter concluded that the dinosaur was truly under enough control for them to ride safely.
“I’d like to name it ‘Strut,’ “ said Chad happily, over his shoulder. “ A mount should have a name. Besides, ‘struthiomimus’ is just too long a word to say all the time.”
“Strut,” said Hunter. “Very well.”
“I thought that was kind of funny. Don’t you think that’s a good name?”
“Short, distinctive, and a mnemonic for the species,” said Hunter. “Yes, it is an appropriate name.”
“And it walks upright.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t have much sense of humor, do you?”
Hunter quickly searched his data on the subject. He recalled that humor was important to humans. However, with the urgency of finding MC Governor or his components, Hunter had never taken the time to consider the subject.
“I apologize,” said Hunter.
“No need.” Chad laughed. “Never mind.”
Puzzled, Hunter simply nodded.
Throughout midday, Hunter guided their mount quietly through the forest, looking for another struthiomimus. They could not find one. Hunter stopped at several places along the stream, where they waited again for dinosaurs to come to drink. Whenever a new species appeared, Chad quickly looked up its name and traits, but they did not see a specimen they could ride. So Hunter moved on.
Behind him, Chad ate his lunch as they rode. When he had finished, Hunter passed him the reins so that he could learn to ride Strut on his own. Hunter remained in the forward saddle, but that seemed to make no difference. Chad guided their mount without a problem.
“I’ve been looking in my belt computer for more species that might be good prospects,” said Chad. “Maybe the struthiomimus just isn’t common in this neighborhood right now.”
“What data were you checking?”
“Only a few traits.” Chad relaxed the reins so that their mount could crane its long neck forward to browse on some leaves. “Cranial capacity, for learning ability. Size and strength of leg bones, to make sure they can carry us. The structure of the pelvis and spine of bipedal dinosaurs, to judge whether or not they are likely to bend far forward and then straighten up suddenly again, throwing us.”
“What have you found?”
“Well, so far, not much-”
Hunter held up his hand for silence. His hearing had just detected movement ahead. The four footsteps he heard sounded like those of something very heavy. At the same time, he heard the faint swishing and snapping of twigs-many of them at once, suggesting massive size to match the great weight of the creature.
Hunter waved his hand forward.
Chad urged the struthiomimus to walk. At first it moved casually enough, but then it suddenly stopped and turned its head in the direction of the animal Hunter had heard. Chad had to kick its body to urge it forward again.
Then Hunter got his first glimpses of the big dinosaur’s body, though its head was still out of sight. It was roughly seven meters long and the curve of its back was nearly three meters from the ground. From the sound of its patient footsteps, he judged its weight at over four tons.
Behind Hunter, Chad drew in his breath sharply. Hunter felt a tap on his left shoulder. He looked and saw the creature raise its head.
The dinosaur had a short, thick nose horn and two long brow horns about a hundred centimeters long, curving forward. Its beak was turtlelike in shape. A smooth, solid frill covered the back and sides of its neck.
“A triceratops,” Chad whispered.
“Is it ridable?” Hunter asked softly.
“I’m not sure. It’s an herbivore and it’s fourlegged-and much too heavy to rear up.”
“Obviously strong enough,” said Hunter. “It does not look as though it can run fast.”
“Not for very long, probably,” said Chad. “But if you can ride it, you can probably chase MC 1. The real problem is that they were-are, that is-aggressive.”
“How aggressive?”
“No one really knows. It might be like trying to tame and ride a rhinoceros.”
Hunter reviewed his data. “I do not know much about those, either. Is that difficult?”
“Uh-the Third Law probably wouldn’t allow it.”
“I see.” Hunter adjusted the coil of rope on his shoulder as he watched the triceratops calmly eating the leaves from a large, full bush. “Chad, can you ride Strut alone now?”
“Alone? I suppose so.”
“I think you will be safe enough. Also, I believe we have left MC 1 alone too long. We must get on with our pursuit under the general First Law imperative. That requires that I take a chance under the Third Law.” Hunter suddenly reached up to a strong overhead branch and swung out of the saddle.
Chad gasped in surprise, but kept Strut reined.
Hunter pulled himself up into the tree. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Stay close if you can, but ride back to camp if you have to. You know the way?”
“Yeah. The stream is directly behind us and I can find the camp from there.”
Hunter nodded. Then, taking great care to move quietly and safely, he climbed higher into the tree. When he could, he moved to a branch on a nearby tree, closer to the triceratops. He was going to climb right above it, where a certain branch angled over its frill.
Hunter reached that branch and swung out below it over the big dinosaur, moving forward hand over hand. With each arm movement, his weight shook the branch, rattling the leaves. The triceratops twitched its ears curiously but otherwise did not move from the bush it was eating. Assessing its massive build and heavily armed head and neck, Hunter judged that it was simply not concerned with anything small enough to climb trees.
When Hunter was hanging directly over the back of the dinosaur’s frill, he let go with his right hand and slipped the coil of rope down his arm. Still hanging by his left hand, he shook the loop loose and tossed it downward, toward the right brow horn of the triceratops. A second later, he dropped onto the creature’s back.
The shock of Hunter’s weight landing on the triceratops made it jerk in surprise. Then it lumbered forward, crashing through bushes and flattening some of the smaller trees. Hunter leaned forward and grabbed the left brow horn in his free hand, bracing his right hand with the taut rope. He gripped the dinosaur’s broad body with his legs as hard as he could and kept his head low as he rode the triceratops through the forest.
14