Dictator

11

Wayne relaxed, deeply relieved that Leutnant Mohr had given in to their terms. Of course, Leutnant Mohr was as cold as every other soldier in the German army, and the fuel he was using belonged to the army, not to him personally. As he drove, he pulled the heavy fur cloak from Germany, almost two thousand years earlier, over his lap.

Leutnant Mohr was not taking as much of a risk as he believed. Wayne knew that Ishihara would be monitoring the Soviet radio traffic. He would know if any Soviet patrol reported by radio that they were coming this way long before they were in sight.

No one challenged them as they drove close to the most forward German lines. Wayne decided that the entire army was just as cold and discouraged as the soldiers he had seen himself. None of them wanted to take any initiative. As long as the armored car did nothing particularly offensive, he guessed they would not be stopped.

Leutnant Mohr did not immediately drive straight through the lines out into the open front.

“Will the soldiers here let us go through their lines?” Ishihara asked.

“We must not be seen heading straight for the enemy,” Leutnant Mohr said.

Wayne saw that they were gradually moving to the left, going north behind the lines.

“What is your plan?” Ishihara asked.

“Yeah-can you really get us past them?” Wayne looked out the window at the darkness, broken only by their headlights and a few small, weak fires along the lines.

“Yes,” said Leutnant Mohr. “The north flank is not far. Going out past the flank will mean that we will pass only a few sentries. They may not bother to stop us.”

When the armored car finally reached the north flank, Wayne was surprised to see that it was not really anchored in any way. He knew that armies usually wanted some feature in the terrain to protect their flanks, such as a mountain, a river, or even a slight rise in the ground. Here, the German lines simply came to a halt on the level steppe. It was another sign that weariness, cold, and exhaustion had undermined the efficiency of this army.

Suddenly the headlights struck a couple of soldiers waving their arms. Leutnant Mohr sighed and halted their vehicle in front of them. Then he rolled down the window and waited for them to approach him.

One sentry came up to the armored car. He looked at all three of them carefully and then spoke. Wayne could not understand his German, of course, but he could judge the man’s tone. The sentry spoke respectfully, aware that he was addressing an officer. Leutnant Mohr answered quietly and confidently as he handed his pass to him.

The sentry moved so that he could read the pass in the glow of the headlights. He showed it to his partner, who nodded and stepped back. The first sentry returned it to Leutnant Mohr and pointed off into the blackness ahead, saying something else. Then he, too, backed away.

Leutnant Mohr put the vehicle into gear and drove forward, beyond the flank.

“What did they say?” Wayne asked.

“They assumed I was lost,” said Leutnant Mohr. “I explained that we were on a special reconnaissance mission and showed them the pass.”

“What will you say on the way back?” Wayne asked. “When you’re alone?”

“I will circle around this spot and return to the lines farther to the rear. Major Bach’s pass will serve with other sentries, who did not see me in your company.”

“They must have seen we aren’t in uniform,” said Wayne. “Did they ask about it?”

“Yes. I told them I was not allowed to reveal your identities.”

“Hey, not bad.” Wayne grinned. “You’re a sharp guy, Leutnant.”

Instead of answering, Leutnant Mohr simply pushed the accelerator, taking them faster over the hard ground. They were now moving out into pure darkness slashed only by their own headlights. After a while, he turned to the right.

For the first time, now, they were driving east, toward Moscow and the Soviet lines protecting it. Wayne looked back over his shoulder. The last fires from the German lines were out of sight. That was how Leutnant Mohr had decided the time had come to start across the open area between the lines.

No one spoke for a long time. Wayne could not see the speedometer, if the vehicle had one. In the darkness, he had no way to judge their speed by the passing terrain, either. He did not feel that they were moving very fast, but did not want to raise the subject. At this point, he was just glad they had a ride across the cold, barren countryside.

Wayne glanced up and suddenly realized that he could see powerful beams of light stretching high into the sky in the distance ahead. They started from somewhere on the ground, over the horizon, and swept upward into the sky. He suspected that he should already know what the lights were, so he did not dare ask. Maybe they were looking for enemy aircraft over Moscow. They had probably been visible for some time before he had noticed them.

“I believe we are halfway to enemy lines,” Leutnant Mohr said quietly. He did not slow down or turn, but his voice sounded oddly tight

“We have made excellent progress,” said Ishihara. His tone was calm.

Wayne picked up the meaning of his delivery. Ishihara was monitoring the Soviet radio traffic and knew that the Red Army had not noticed them. Leutnant Mohr was getting nervous, though, knowing that they were drawing closer to the enemy than to the safety of his own lines.

They rode in silence for a while longer. Finally, however, Leutnant Mohr came to a stop. Wayne saw nothing in the darkness around them.

“What is wrong?” Ishihara asked.

“We are within five to seven kilometers of enemy lines,” said Leutnant Mohr. In the reflected light from the headlights, his face was pale and tense.

“That is still a long walk for us,” said Ishihara. “We have had no sign of the enemy.”

“This is as far as I dare go,” said Leutnant Mohr. “We are certain to attract Soviet patrols in the next few miles. And if they open up with artillery, I will not be able to go back to my own lines quietly, either. I could be blamed for starting an unplanned action.”

“But five to seven kilometers,” Wayne started. “In this cold, we could-”

“Very well,” Ishihara interrupted, speaking more loudly than usual to drown out Wayne. “Your arguments are sound, Leutnant. We thank you for your cooperation.”

“I wish you good luck,” said Leutnant Mohr.

Wayne and Ishihara got out into the cold night air. The armored car jerked and rumbled away in a large turn. In a moment, it was bouncing over the frozen ground back to the west. Wayne and Ishihara were alone.

“Why didn’t you argue a little harder?” Wayne asked, pulling his cloak snugly around him.

The now-famous prototype of the highly successful “Hunter” class robot first demonstrated his remarkable abilities in the Mojave Center Governor case. The following images are drawn from the Robot City archives of Derec Avery, the eminent historian on robotics.

HUNTER IN MOSCOW.R. Hunter’s ability to shift his shape to match local conditions proved invaluable on many of his missions. Here Hunter has adopted the disguise of a Russian citizen during World War II.

MOJAVE CENTER.In an ambitious attempt to reclaim unusable land and take advantage of readily available solar and wind power, a number of underground cities were built. The state-of-the-art facility under the Mojave Desert, known for its university and famous sculpture gardens, was perhaps the most successful.

WAYNE AND ISHIHARA PURSUED BY THE SECRET POLICE.Even in wartime the NKVD, Stalin’s secret police, were everywhere, willing to kill anyone even suspected of being a danger to the Soviet Union.

MEDICAL ROBOT.This is a view of the head of a general-purpose medical robot in R. Hunter’s time. Robots of this class staffed all of Mojave Center’s medical facilities, and performed most medical functions short of major surgery.

MEDICAL ROBOT CLOSEUP.The diagnostic equipment located on the medical robot’s face can identify symptoms of any known human disease. Among other functions, the medical robots diagnostic scanners can scan individual cells for abnormalities.

THE REFUGEE WAREHOUSE.Civilian refugees are crowded into massive empty warehouses after fleeing from the German army. These refugees are in danger from the Soviet secret police as well as the German army.

R. HUNTER FACIAL STRUCTURE.Shown here is an analysis of R. Hunter’s neural net flow after he has shifted his form to match local environmental conditions.

MC ROBOTS MERGED.Three of MC Governor’s six independent component robots are shown here. After capturing them in the remote past, R. Hunter merged and deactivated the robots temporarily.

RIDING TO THE FRONT.In the morning, Soviet war refugees are trucked to the outskirts of Moscow to dig miles of trenches in front of the advancing German army. Although the final attack on Moscow never came, the terrified civilians expected it every day.

HUNTER DISGUISED.Here is another of R. Hunter’s many disguises. As long as his mass remained constant, R. Hunter could shift is face and surface skin structure in nearly limitless ways.

“We cannot risk having Leutnant Mohr start a battle prematurely. It could change world history in a manner very destructive to our own time.”

Wayne sighed. “Freezing to death will be destructive to me, personally.”

“I cannot allow harm to come to you, either. You are already aware of that.”

“For that matter, what about you?” Wayne looked at him. “Your energy storage has a limit, too. How long can you manage out here without your cloak?”

“I can pursue normal activity without a problem until dawn, at which time even the weak winter sun will begin to recharge the solar collectors built into my skin surface. Unusually extreme activity tonight could drain me prematurely, but I do not foresee that happening.”

“So, we just start walking? I’m not sure I can make it that distance.”

“I am certain you cannot,” said Ishihara. “I have another plan to propose.”

“Good.”

“I warn you that considerable risk is involved in this suggestion, too. However, I feel it is less risky to your welfare than simply trying to walk from here would be.”

“All right, all right. Get to the point, will you? I’m freezing while we stand here.”

“I can radio ahead to the Soviets on my internal system and ask for help.”

“Uh-what would you say?”

“We will have to discuss that and come to agreement on our story, just as we did with the Germans. In this case, we should have plenty of time, since the Soviets so far remain unaware of us.”

“Well, we managed with the Germans. I guess we could come up with a better story this time.”

“If someone comes to get us, they may wonder where our radio is. Obviously, I cannot reveal that I am a robot with an internal system.”

“What do you want to tell them?”

“Since we will have no radio of this era to show them, we must be careful to explain that our radio quit working and was abandoned before they arrived. I recommend that we claim the Germans had us under fire at the time.”

“Got it. But isn’t that a little premature? First we’d better hope someone shows up at all. Then we can hope they don’t demand to see the radio.”

“With your agreement, I shall radio for help in Russian to the Red Army.”

“Go ahead,” Wayne said wryly. “Otherwise, this cold may kill me first.”

They stood in silence for a moment, as Ishihara broadcast a message.

“You get anybody?” Wayne asked.

Not yet.”

“What did you say?”

“I was deliberately vague. I said that we were bringing intelligence about the Germans back to the Soviet lines but were stranded.”

“Did you send it more than once?”

“Yes, of course. And I shall continue to transmit it at intervals.”

“Good.”

“But I must question a statement you made a moment ago about dying of the cold. Before I can allow that to happen, I would have to insist that we leave this time and place.”

“Changing to another time has to remain our last resort,” said Wayne. “That’s a Second Law imperative.”

“We discussed this matter in ancient Germany,” said Ishihara. “I understand your concern that Hunter will have assigned another robot to apprehend us back in our own time. But of course we do not have to return there. We can jump only a few hours and a few miles if you wish.”

“I know,” said Wayne. “But if we jump from here to Moscow, for instance, we don’t know where we’ll appear-maybe right in front of people. And if we move forward at too long an interval, I’m afraid Hunter will already have grabbed MC 4 before we’ve had a chance.”

“I understand,” said Ishihara. He hesitated, suddenly moving to face east.

Wayne waited eagerly, sure that he had received something from the Soviets.

“They are coming,” said Ishihara.

How far away are they?”

“I do not know yet. A Red Army unit finally responded to my message on the fourteenth repetition. I said we are civilians escaping from the Germans with military intelligence we wanted to share with the Soviets.”

“How were you able to tell them where we are? I have no idea.” Wayne looked around in the darkness.

“I could not. I told them I shall transmit to them every minute or so, just counting numbers, so that they can trace the signal as they approach us.”

“I hope they hurry. I’m getting colder by the minute.”

“They are not far.”

“Good,” said Wayne. “Do you know what will happen between these two armies here? I mean, I know which side won the war, of course, but what about right here? Do you know anything about that?”

“I have no details.”

“None at all?”

“I only know that the Germans will lose this battle outside Moscow,” said Ishihara. “They do not take the city, despite what Leutnant Mohr said about it. This is the first Soviet victory of the war.”

“Well, let’s figure out our story. We want to have it before anyone gets here.”

Hunter walked through the dark, nearly deserted streets with his team, pausing to hide in shadows or around corners on the few occasions when they saw a vehicle. They saw no other pedestrians. At the same time, Hunter monitored the radio transmissions in Moscow from the NKVD. The transmissions made reference to a couple of other public buildings that were being used to house displaced citizens.

None of the messages mentioned an exact address. However, Hunter heard references to neighborhoods and streets that helped him choose the team’s direction. After nearly an hour of walking through the cold, he approached another warehouse, from which a small amount of light escaped around the edges of a blacked-out window.

“That must be the place,” said Hunter. “I can hear the sleeping breaths of many people inside, as Jane suggested earlier.”

“What’s our story?” Steve moved up next to Hunter, moving slowly with weariness from all the walking. “Won’t they want to know what we’ve been doing out at this hour?”

“As you have occasionally recommended, I shall improvise.” Hunter knocked firmly on the front door. “The story we used when we first arrived, without you, should be sufficient.”

“What was it?” Steve asked.

Before Hunter could answer, the door opened slightly. A stout, scowling man glared at him. “Yeah, what is it?”

“We are displaced citizens from a farm west of Moscow,” said Hunter. “We have fled the Germans and seek shelter for the night.”

“The Germans have been at our gates for weeks. Where have you been since then?” The man eyed Steve suspiciously. “Where’s he from? He’s no Russian.”