19

“Hunter! Hunter!” Jane ran toward him, shouting and waving.

Caught by surprise, Steve got up and followed her. Up ahead, the tall buccaneer had instantly turned at the sound of Jane’s voice. Then he waved back and moved to meet her.

“Hunter! So it is you.” Jane smiled with relief as she caught up to him.

“Yes, of course,” said Hunter stiffly, in a flat monotone. “I have tried to reach you both through the communicators I gave you.”

“We lost them,” said Steve. “We’ll tell you about it later.”

“I have an urgent question to ask Jane,” said Hunter. “What did I do wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you strike me?”

“On shipboard, you mean?” Jane’s eyes widened in surprise. “Hunter, I didn’t recognize you!”

Hunter’s hesitation was barely perceptible to Steve, but that meant it was very long by robotic standards.

“I made a careless mistake,” said Hunter. “I altered my appearance so that I would not alert Wayne Nystrom or Rita that I was nearby on board ship.”

“And then you forgot?” Jane looked at him skeptically. “Robots don’t just forget. What happened?”

“My efficiency had dropped below normal even before that moment,” said Hunter. His voice was no longer a monotone, though he still spoke in a tentative, stilted fashion. “When the fighting began, I was focused tightly on sorting out which First Law imperatives to pursue, such as protecting you, and which ones I had to ignore, such as allowing buccaneers to fight each other so that I would not alter the course of history.”

“You came up to help me fight that Spaniard,” Steve said suddenly. “I thought you were coming after me.”

“So did I,” said Jane. “That’s why I clobbered you.”

“I have no excuse,” said Hunter. “If my efficiency had been at a normal level, I would have remembered at all times that humans recognize each other primarily by appearance.”

“Don’t you?” Steve asked.

“Not necessarily. I can make a positive identification by voice pattern as well. Other traits, such as footsteps and heartbeat, can be equally definitive in some cases.”

“I made the same kind of mistake,” said Jane. “If I had seen you just walking down the street the first time, I might have guessed it was you, just like I did a few minutes ago. But in the excitement of the fighting, I got careless too.” She studied him for a moment. “So you thought I was punishing you for something you did?”

“Not punishing me,” said Hunter. “I thought I was making a serious mistake that you had to prevent, one so urgent that you did not have time to discuss it. I nearly shut myself down because of it.”

“Your misinterpretation was a minor mistake,” Jane said quickly. “No harm has been done. Don’t let it raise your doubts about your adequacy for this mission again.”

“Understood,” said Hunter. “But I think I will change my appearance back to the way it was.”

Steve glanced at the crowd of men working around them, even though the sun had begun to sink below the horizon. “Better duck out of sight first. otherwise; these guys are going to see you and think it’s witchcraft or something.”

“Let’s all move over to a side street,” said Jane quickly. “Come on.”

As soon as they left the waterfront, the streets were much less crowded. Hunter simply turned toward a tree trunk and bent low to hide his face from any passersby. He remained motionless for less than a minute. When he turned around again, he had returned to his original appearance.

“Wow,” said Steve.

“Have you made any progress on our search?” Hunter asked. His voice was almost normal now.

“Not really,” said Steve. “I went overboard during the fight on board ship. Jane lowered a boat and jumped in the water too.” He grinned at her.

“We lost our communicators in the water,” said Jane. “But we rowed back to shore safely. We’ll tell you about Captain Morgan later.”

“I communicated briefly with MC 2, but he got away,” said Hunter. “He and Roland are in the area again, however.”

“I have this feeling that maybe Rita and Roland are just hiding out somewhere,” said Steve. “Suppose they really fell for each other. They could stay out of sight for a long time.”

“That is not the impression I got,” said Hunter. “I spoke to him too.”

“We need to brief each other,” said Steve. “And I’m hungry. Let’s do it over dinner.”

“I’m all for that,” said Jane.

Hunter was deeply relieved to learn that he had not made a mistake serious enough to force Jane to hit him. He did note that in the maze of First Law questions which arose on board the ship, he had failed to communicate his new appearance to his team; that was clearly a serious failure. Since Jane had shared the responsibility for the confusion, however, he was able to allay some of his doubts.

Steve found a small tavern out by the end of the waterfront where they had built the Jamaica Jane. It was nearly deserted. Hunter, Steve, and Jane sat at a corner table and recounted their actions since they had split up, completing the stories as they set aside their dishes at the end of the meal.

“And so,” Hunter finished, “I have continued to radio MC 2 occasionally, but he has not responded again. He clearly has decided that my interpretation of the First Law imperative regarding the future is too uncertain to override his Third Law imperative to keep himself away from us.”

“Have you radioed any details about the application of chaos theory to history?” Jane asked. “Maybe he would have to take the argument more seriously if it was developed.”

“Yes, I tried that this afternoon from time to time,” said Hunter. “I suspect he shut off his receiver again as soon as he fled, to avoid that kind of argument.”

“This place is still empty,” said Steve, looking around the tavern. “When we first came in, I thought we had just beaten the dinner rush. But no one’s coming in at all.”

“I guess the loading is still going on,” said Jane. “But’s it’s dark now.”

Steve nodded. “I can see men carrying torches pass by from time to time. And there is some moonlight.”

“I suppose we need a new plan of action,” said Jane. “Maybe we can discuss what to do tonight, get some rest, and put it into practice tomorrow.”

“Sure,” said Steve, with forced cheer. “Well-at least we don’t have to worry about being run down by a dinosaur stampede.”

Jane laughed.

Hunter suddenly received a call on his internal receiver.

“Rita calling Hunter. Are you there?” Her voice was low and hurried.

“Hunter here,” he radioed back. “Where are you?”

“I’m a prisoner on a ship called the Old Laughing Lady. I need help. Wayne Nystrom has this Captain Tomann guy working with him. They’re keeping me here.”

“I saw the ship in the harbor today. You are in Port Royal. We are not far.”

“But we’re leaving.”

“You are?”

“Wayne just told me we’re about to set sail. I’m in one of the officer’s quarters.”

“Are you in danger of immediate harm?”

“Uh-no, except for being taken out of port. I would have called earlier today, but I was sure they would take me ashore again.”

“I want to remain in radio contact with you. How often are you alone?”

“Well, I was alone most of today, but we were anchored. I don’t know what will happen now.”

“All right. As you know, I cannot risk exposing Captain Tomann or other buccaneers to radio. Please contact me every hour if you can. I will not call you. We will follow you, however, if we can.”

“Hunter?”

“Yes.”

“I…apologize. I made a big mistake.”

“Accepted. Hunter out.”

“What is it, Hunter?” Jane was looking closely at him. “For a minute there, I thought you were freezing up or something.”

“Rita just contacted me by radio,” said Hunter, rising from his chair. “She is Wayne Nystrom’s prisoner on board the Old Laughing Lady- and the fleet is setting sail.”