Hunter swam the distance half a meter under the surface of the water. If anyone happened to look in his direction, he would be no more than a shadow of the sort that a large fish or a shark might make. At the same time, he was close enough to the surface for the tropical sunlight to beat down on him as he swam, replenishing his energy through the microscopic solar collectors on his skin where his clothing left it exposed. He arrived at the waterline of the Old Laughing Lady with only a little less energy than he had possessed when he had started his swim.

When he broke the surface of the water, he heard no sound of human activity on the ship. Cautiously, he began to climb up the hull. He hesitated at the rail, looking and listening again. Some buccaneers were dozing on the deck. A few others were gazing toward the shore. None noticed him.

Moving slowly and silently, Hunter moved up on deck, always behind crates, kegs, or rolled sails in order to stay hidden.

“Rita, Hunter calling,” he radioed.

“Hunter!” She radioed back. “Is that you?”

“Yes. I am on deck, staying out of sight of crew members. Where are you?”

“I’m in one of the officer’s quarters.”

Hunter worked his way below, still alert for buccaneers, but encountered none. In the narrow hall, he saw that only one door was bolted from the outside. He unlocked it and heard another bolt move inside the door.

Rita opened it, smiling with relief. “Hunter, I can’t tell you how embarrassed I am. I had no idea I was going to cause this much trouble. When I left, I just wanted to get a feel for the times and experience some of this history.”

Hunter nodded noncommittally. “We should get away from here promptly.”

“Hunter, I’m trying to apologize.”

“I accept your apology,” Hunter said blandly. “Please help the tam from this point.”

“Of course-“

“Come on.” Hunter was not angry at her in the human sense, but he was not sure how much he could trust her. At the very least, her judgment was flawed. For now, he simply wanted to reunite his entire team.

Hunter carefully led Rita up on deck, to the side of the ship that was away from the shore. Hunter could see a few buccaneers on some f the other ships walking around on deck, but none was paying any attention to the Old Laughing Lady. The buccaneers on the Lady were still either napping or watching the shore. Over their heads, signal flags snapped in the breeze, creating enough sound to camouflage Hunter’s voice.

“Can you swim fifty meters?” Hunter whispered.

“Yes. But my clothes will weigh me down and I can’t discard anything. I’ll need them all when I get to the other ship. So I won’t be able to keep up with you.”

“I will stay right with you, of course,” said Hunter. “If you tire, I will carry you back.”

“I see a little dinghy still on board here,” said Rita. “We could row.”

“We must avoid notice if possible,” Hunter. “We will swim.”

“What about, uh, sharks?”

“I saw none. Do you trust my judgment regarding the First Law of Robotics?”

“Yes.”

“Then we should swim.”

“All right.”

Steve sat on a crate next to Jane, who was sitting on a keg. While they had been waiting, they had stacked up some empty crates to block the buccaneers’ view of the rail where Hunter would come aboard, placing them near a rope ladder attached to the side with belaying pins. Then they watched Hunter swim toward them on his back while holding Rita in the lifeguard’s across-chest carry. Some of the buccaneers on board were napping in the shade of the sails; others were still watching the shoreline from the opposite rail. None were looking toward Hunter; nor were they concerned with Steve and Jane.

When Hunter and Rita reached the ship, Steve quietly let down the rope ladder. He moved it hand over hand, making sure that the slight thumping of the ladder against the side of the ship attracted no attention. Rita came up first, breathing hard from exertion, and gave him a self-conscious smile. He nodded coolly and held up a hand for her to wait.

Jane looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then she motioned for Rita to come over the rail. Steve helped her.

“Squat down out of sight for a moment and get your breath back,” said Steve.

Rita ducked down by the pile of crates.

Hunter climbed over the rail, slowly and silently, and joined them. He kept his voice low. “Did anyone miss me?”

“No,” said Jane. “They’re all too busy waiting to see if their friends come back with fresh water and good food.”

“The sun and wind will dry our clothes quickly,” said Hunter. “Rita, we will keep you close to us and hidden from the others as much as possible.”

Rita nodded.

“Someone is going to notice her sooner or later,” said Steve. “We should say that she came back from shore on the wrong longboat. I don’t think anybody will care. These buccaneers just want everyone to take a turn at the chores and to divide the loot fairly after a raid.”

“That is reasonable,” said Hunter. “Rita, what do you think of that?”

“It sounds plausible. But they better not see me till these clinging clothes dry out and get baggy again.”

The ship captains came up on deck, holding rolled maps in their hands. They were talking and laughing among themselves. Steve stood up to watch. The napping buccaneers woke up, and those at the rail also turned.

“Gather ‘round, mates,” called Captain Morgan, waving to everyone. “We’re off for Portobelo in Panama, the richest city in New Spain!”

The buccaneers looked at each other in surprise and cheered, but Steve felt they were less than truly enthusiastic. Captain Morgan began telling them all about the wealth to be found there. Steve knelt next to Rita.

“What’s wrong with everybody? Why aren’t they more excited about all the booty in Portobelo?”

“The trouble is, Portobelo is also the most strongly fortified and defended city in the Americas right now,” said Rita.

“Really? What’s it like?”

“It’s situated on a river, a short distance inland from the river mouth. Every man in the fleet has probably heard about it.”

“Strongly fortified? In what way?”

“The harbor to Portobelo is guarded by three forts, one on each side of the entrance and one on a cliff overlooking the city. Any ships that sail within range of their cannons to attack will get smashed to pieces long before they can land;’

“Quiet,” said Jane. “They’re coming this way.”

“Have a look, mates,” called Captain Morgan, striding across the deck to the shoreward side of the ship. His captains and the buccaneers followed him. “Look down the coast to the south from here. Portobelo lies less than two days’ sail from here. When the men return from foraging this evening, we’ll have a fine supper. Then we’ll sail!”

Another chorus of cheers rose up, no stronger than before. Captain Morgan dismissed the captains, who boarded their longboats again to return to their ships. Then he saw Steve, Jane, and Hunter watching him. Rita had slipped around to the other side of the crates.

“So, Hunter,” said Captain Morgan with a challenging grin. “Are you as fainthearted as my other men?”

“I have every confidence in you,” said Hunter.

“Ah! That’s what I like to hear. Steve, what about you, then? What do you say?”

“I say that you know more about this than any other man afloat,” Steve said carefully. “But Portobelo will be tough to crack, won’t it?”

“Not so tough, mate. Well, I’ve told my captains what we’ll do, so it’s no secret now. We’re going to sail down to a creek I know of about twenty miles south of Portobelo. We’ll anchor our ships there, and sneak up on Portobelo inland.”

Steve glanced at Rita around the corner of the crates, out of Captain Morgan’s sight. She gave him a slight nod. He turned back to Captain Morgan.