“Yes. You have further instructions, I assume?” Ishihara slipped the long thong of the leather bag from his shoulder and lowered it gently to the ground.

“I sure do,” said Wayne. “On the way, look for any sign of MC 3. If you don’t see any, wait for Hunter to go by. See if MC 3 is with him. If he is, follow them back this way. If not, then look for MC 3’s trail. Track him and apprehend him if you can. Remember, he’s probably the biggest danger to the future under the First Law.”

“Agreed.”

“And don’t call me, or some of the locals might hear you. When I’m ready, I’ll call you. But do monitor both Hunter’s frequency and ours. All right?”

“Yes.”

“Then get going.”

Ishihara quietly crept away through the underbrush.

Steve was standing next to his mount at the bank, gazing out across the gray river. His horse seemed to be thirsty; it was still drinking. Steve glanced at the animal, shifted his weight, and idly gave it a pat on the shoulder.

Wayne pulled open the drawstring on the leather bag and took out a small coil of rope. It was rough, narrow hemp, one centimeter in diameter. He had to wait until Ishihara was out of earshot, because what he planned to do would not pass Ishihara’s interpretation of the First Law.

While he waited, he unwound the five meters of rope. He tied a large loop in one end of the rope with a slipknot and carefully coiled the remainder. Then he watched Steve in silence.

When the horse had finally had enough river water, it turned toward the trees. Still holding the reins, Steve let it walk from the bank to the edge of the forest, a short distance from where Wayne squatted in the underbrush. The horse reached up to munch on some leaves.

Steve leaned forward, his back toward Wayne, to tie the reins to the trunk of a sapling.

Wayne took a good look at him. Steve was considerably younger and certainly in better condition, but he was shorter, lighter, and totally unprepared for Wayne. This was the best chance Wayne was likely to get. His heart pounding, Wayne stretched the loop behind his hands and suddenly rose up. In a half-crouch, he ran toward Steve through the underbrush. He dodged a couple of trees, ducked under a branch, and raised his arms as Steve whirled around in surprise.

Before Steve could dodge away, Wayne yanked the loop down over his head and shoulders, pinning his arms against his torso, inside his fur cloak. Steve threw himself to the ground in the direction of the river, pulling away from Wayne and wriggling to loosen the loop.

Wayne grabbed the long end of the rope and jerked on it, tightening the loop. Then, skipping out of the way of Steve’s kicking legs, he moved down and quickly wound the rope around his booted ankles. Steve kept thrashing, but Wayne pulled the rope tight and quickly looped it around a small tree trunk. Then, with the rope braced there, he tied a half hitch in the rope and leaned against the tree, catching his breath.