“Marcus, you simply expect too much from these barbarians,” said Governor Varus.

Jane and Gene took their seats. Marcus sat down last, sighing wearily. Demetrius moved behind Governor Varus and stood patiently.

“Let’s ask our guests.” Governor Varus turned to Jane. “You saw these Germans?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did they threaten you in any way?”

“No,” Jane said hesitantly. She was aching to warn him, to convince him of the disaster he would fall into very soon. The reason was not that she had a great liking for the Romans as a group, but simply because she was uncomfortable knowing that so many Romans would soon be walking into a trap. Now that she was actually talking to two of them, they no longer seemed like mere historical figures. Of course, she knew she could not say anything that would even hint that Marcus was right. Instead, she would have to remain as neutral as possible, so as not to influence these two Romans.

“No. Were they armed?”

“They had spears,” said Jane. “That’s all I remember.” She picked up her wine goblet, as much to hide behind it as to drink from it.

“That’s often all these barbarians have,” said Governor Varus calmly. He turned to Gene. “How about you? Did you see them?”

“No, Governor. I had not joined them yet.”

“I see. Then let me ask the two of you another question entirely.”

“Of course,” said Gene.

“Perhaps I have been too hard on my tribune,” said Governor Varus. “As I understand it, you have come here from Gaul, which means you passed through much of this province.”

“Yes, sir,” said Gene, watching him carefully.

Jane was glad to let him field the questions. After all, as the historian on the team, he had the best chance to pass as a real trader. She was too nervous to feel hungry, but she forced herself to eat, in order to keep busy.

“So in your travels, how were you received?” Governor Varus asked. “You must have visited many villages of the Cherusci before you got here.”

“We were welcomed,” said Gene. “At that time, we had a few modest gifts to present to the village elders.”

“Ah, yes. They are sometimes like children with new playthings. Did they talk to you about us Romans?”

“Not particularly,” said Gene. He looked at Jane innocently. “Do you recall?”

“No.” She shook her head.

Governor Varus nodded.

“I’m afraid I’m quite ignorant of political matters,” said Jane. She was sure that Romans of this time would accept that readily from a woman.

“German hostility has never died,” said Marcus, looking up from his plate. “They like to buy our goods, but that’s all. I suppose they see you traders as their friends, where we soldiers will always be their enemies.”

“Where were you stationed before you came here?” Jane asked Marcus, hoping to turn the conversation away from the German rebellion.

“In Rome itself,” said Marcus. He caught her eye and grinned at her. “The climate is so much nicer there. Have you ever been to Rome?”

“No.” Jane suppressed a smile. She had been to Rome in her own time, but it was not the Rome Marcus knew.

“Have you seen the emperor?” Gene asked, sounding excited by the prospect.

“Oh, yes,” said Marcus. “My cohort marched past him in review several times. I saw Emperor Augustus standing and watching us from a balcony.”

“Marcus, I believe you may be making a conquest.” Amused, Governor Varus stood up and slipped a heavy cloak over his shoulders. “Please continue your meal at your leisure. I wish to take a walk. Demetrius, remain here and see to them.” He stepped out of the tent.

Jane watched Marcus, trying not to laugh at his embarrassment. To rescue him, she asked, “How about gladiators? Did you watch them fight?”

“Oh, yes,” said Marcus. “It can be quite interesting. They are often very good, though of course it is not the same as soldiering.”

“But they must be very good fighters.”

“In their specialized duels, yes. For instance, one man will have a long net and a trident. He fights a man with a sword and a small shield.” He frowned slightly. “The man with the net always seems to win. Those who assign the weapons dictate who lives and dies.”

“You don’t approve?” Gene asked cautiously.

“Soldiering is an honorable profession,” said Marcus. “We serve the Empire. It requires discipline, teamwork, and duty. The gladiators are slaves.”

Gene said nothing.

“You miss Rome, don’t you?” Jane decided to change the subject.

“Yes, that is no secret. But a tribune can’t earn the respect of his troops in Rome. For that, he has to go to the frontier and serve.”

“The name Aemilianus is old and well-known,” said Gene. “You must be well educated, I would guess.”

“Yes. I learned Greek and studied the works of Homer and the great philosophers.”

Jane remained quiet as Gene and Marcus discussed Greek philosophy. She probably knew a little more about it than most women of Gaul in this time, but the less she had to converse with Marcus, the better off she would be. When they had all finished eating, she waited for a moment when she could break into the conversation.

“I’m very tired,” she said. “I’m afraid I’m not used to so much riding. I would like to go to sleep.”

“Of course,” said Marcus. “My tent is yours again. Uh, would you…” He glanced uncertainly at Gene.

“Our party normally remains together,” said Jane.

“As you wish, of course.”

As soon as Jane and Gene were in their tent, Jane called Hunter.

“Jane here. Can you hear me, Hunter?”

“Hunter here. Where are you, Jane?”

“Gene and I are in the new Roman camp. We don’t know anything about Steve, though.”

“I lost his tracks in the darkness,” said Hunter. “I am slowly moving back toward Vicinius’s village. I shall resume my search in the morning. You two are well?”

“Yes, we’re fine.”

“I am glad. Please call me in the morning when you can. Since you are in the Roman camp, I shall not risk calling you. Hunter out.”

Ishihara spent the early evening outside the village into which MC 3 had gone. MC 3 continued to play with the children, tossing sticks and running through the village with them. He was clearly trying to establish a rapport with the villagers and the adults were simply ignoring him.

As Ishihara observed MC 3 from the forest, he also carefully watched the village dogs to see if they caught his scent. They did not. In part this was because, as a robot, he did not have a normal human scent and partly because the constant rain had driven the dogs into the huts.

He waited patiently as the villagers called their children and carried their dinners into the huts, out of the rain. Two of the children carried a bowl of food to MC 3, which he accepted, though he stayed a polite distance away from all the huts. He stood alone in the courtyard of the village, waiting patiently.

Eventually the families came out to douse their cookfires and begin chasing the children into the huts. One of the older children gestured for MC 3 to come in, too. MC 3 looked hesitantly at the father of the child, who nodded offhandedly for him to join them.

Ishihara noted which hut MC 3 entered. He was not entirely sure of what he would do, but this was his best chance yet to approach MC 3 without a crowd of humans who might protect him. Ishihara hoped to grab MC 3 somehow without risking a First Law violation by struggling with humans.

The village elders left sentries posted around the village when the rest of the villagers went inside for the night. For a while, the sentries paced about, talking and looking around under the sputtering torches they each carried.

As the night wore on, however, the sentries sat down around one small fire that remained lighted, feeding it occasionally. One of them pulled out an earthenware jug and passed it around. One by one, each sentry gradually leaned back against a tree trunk or stretched out under the overhanging thatched roof of a hut and dozed off.

Ishihara suspected that sentries were not normally posted in the village at night. He ~ad overheard some of the conversation held by Hunter’s team before they had left for this mission and he knew that trouble between the Germans and Romans was coming. That would explain the presence of the sentries. It also explained their carelessness.

When all the sentries had had time to fall into a fairly deep sleep, Ishihara slowly and patiently began moving toward the village. He was still concerned about the village dogs, too, but the constant spattering of the rain on the trees and the huts and the ground helped disguise the sound of his movements. In the darkness, with a care that few humans had the patience for, he took one step at a time toward the village.

Ishihara spent almost an hour moving thirty yards through the dense forest. Neither the sentries nor the dogs stirred.

Now that Ishihara was in the muddy clearing in the center of the village, he was more concerned about the excellent hearing of the dogs in the huts. He paused and magnified his hearing. The sentries and all the other humans he could hear were breathing deeply and evenly.

The villagers were not likely to be awakened by a slight sound. The breathing of the village dogs varied much more. Then another sound reached him, the faint crackling and cracking of wood. It was very faint and came from the back of the hut into which MC 3 had gone.

Certain that MC 3 was escaping, Ishihara abandoned his concern over making noise and ran around the hut. After the first hard, wet slap of his footsteps, the loud snap of wood breaking came from the back of the hut. Dogs began to bark all over the village and a couple of sentries called to each other in rough, surprised voices. Ishihara heard the sentries’ wet, splashing feet as they ran after him.

Behind the hut, a flash of one of the torches carried by the lead sentry allowed Ishihara to glimpse MC 3 disappearing into the forest. A quick glance at the back of the hut told him that MC 3 had simply broken through a plank in the rear of the hut to escape. Ishihara ran after MC 3, suddenly realizing that MC 3 must have turned his own robotic hearing up to maximum in order to detect the slight sounds Ishihara had made as he approached the hut.

“I am R. Ishihara, a humaniform robot,” Ishihara radioed to MC 3. “I order you to stop under a First Law emergency.” He repeated the message, but he could hear that MC 3 was still crashing through the underbrush ahead.