Ishihara did not look back, feeling that his bluff would work better if he showed no concern over the commissar’s attention. He led Wayne at a brisk stride down the sidewalk in the morning light and turned at the alley. The commissar’s footsteps stopped uncertainly just outside the door.
In the alley, out of sight, Ishihara got into the driver’s side. He closed the door and quickly leaned down to pull some of the wires under the dashboard out where he could see them.
“Aren’t we going to start the car the same way?” Wayne asked. “I can steer while you push, but I can’t push as hard as you can if you’re the one who’s steering.”
“We cannot convince anyone this car is ours if they see us start the engine that way,” said Ishihara. “Get in on the passenger side.”
“Okay-but what are you doing?”
“The key to the ignition must allow some sort of electrical connection to be made that starts the engine. If I select the correct wires, then I can make the same connection. I think I have them. Please get in.”
“Yeah, okay, okay.” Wayne hurried around to the other side and slid inside, slamming the door.
Ishihara had carefully stripped the insulation from a couple of wires. He touched the bare metal together and heard the starter whine. When he gave the engine gas, it started up. He shut his own door and backed out of the alley.
“Wow, not bad,” said Wayne. “I understand how a robot works, but figuring out these primitive machines at a glance, without a design to go by-forget it.”
“Thank you,” said Ishihara, stopping in the street and shifting into first gear. “Now we must drive past the commissar so that he can see us driving away.”
Ishihara kept his head straight as he drove past the front door of the converted factory, still pretending to have no concern over the commissar and his partner. His peripheral vision, however, told him that both men were still standing there watching them. They did not react outwardly.
“What do you think?” Wayne asked. “Did we bluff them or are they suspicious?”
“I do not know,” said Ishihara. “Cars appear to be fairly rare here, so our possession of one is a powerful symbol. However, they are probably still somewhat suspicious.”
“Well-you still haven’t heard any NKVD alert for finding this car?”
“Not yet.”
“That’s great. Maybe we can close in on MC 4 before they do. Where shall we look?”
“I suggest factories and military posts. The First Law will drive him to participate with the local people in ways that might help them.”
“Okay. How do we find places like that?”
“Big smokestacks can take us to factories that are still functioning.”
“For the military, I guess we have to drive back out to the front, if we have enough fuel.”
“Yes.”
“You’re driving. Take us where you think we’ll have the best chance to find him.”
Hunter remained locked in the room in darkness. His internal clock kept him aware of the passing time. The sounds of voices and footsteps down the hall told him when the day shift arrived for work. He waited patiently, uncertain of what he wanted to do.
Just before noon, two uniformed guards came into the room. Without a word, they took his arms and escorted him out into the hall. At the end of the hall, they took him down a staircase. In the basement of the building, they placed him in a large barred cell with a crowd of other prisoners.
As the metal door clanged shut behind him, he turned to look at the other prisoners. He estimated that he was sharing space with about sixty other grown men of varying ages. Most sat on the cold floor; some had stretched out and a few remained on their feet, leaning against the walls or the bars in the front of the cell. They were dressed in ordinary street clothes. As they looked back at him cautiously, no one spoke.
Hunter knew that the NKVD was primarily concerned with security risks right now, not petty criminals. His companions down here were almost certainly political prisoners on their way to labor camps in Siberia. He felt an immediate urge from the First Law to help them, to save them somehow. Of course, he knew he could not without risking a significant change to history.
Also, he knew that enough contradictory pressure from the First Law could neutralize him completely.
Wayne noticed that Ishihara was pulling the car over to the curb. They had just spoken to their fourth factory commissar. Each one seemed to realize that their car signified government power; they had all been very cooperative. However, neither Wayne nor Ishihara had seen any sign of MC 4, nor had anyone they questioned.
“Why are we stopping?” Wayne asked.
“The car theft has finally been reported,” said Ishihara. “We must decide what to do now.”
Wayne grabbed the door handle. “Well, let’s get going! Come on!”
“Immediate flight is not necessary,” said Ishihara calmly. “The description of the car and the plate number have been announced to agents at large over the NKVD radio band, but so far no one has actually reported sighting us.”
“Let’s keep it that way,” said Wayne, grinning nervously. “I mean, why stay in this car until they do?”
“I am not suggesting we should. However, I judge that we have some time left to us. The NKVD does not seem to have reported the car theft to the regular city police.”
“Well-maybe they reported by phone. That’s why you didn’t hear it on their radio band.”
“I can monitor the city police band, as well. They still have not reported this theft.”
“Yeah, I see. What do you think-maybe the NKVD doesn’t want to admit it could happen to them?”
“I believe this is the case. They will want to maintain the image of the NKVD as all-powerful.”
“What do you suggest we do now?”
“Maybe we should approach a military installation-” Ishihara stopped suddenly.
“What’s wrong?”
Ishihara held up his hand for Wayne to wait.
Relieved that Ishihara had not malfunctioned in some way, Wayne waited, watching him.
Ishihara turned to him. “The NKVD has report ed a sighting of someone of MC 4’s description.” Ishihara pulled the car away from the curb and drove down the street.
“Oh, yeah! I forgot-Raskov and Konev are still looking for him, too. Where is he?”
“He was originally reported sleeping in a schoolhouse that had been used for housing displaced citizens. Everyone there is in a work brigade that digs ditches every day.”
“You know where?”
“Yes. I have the same directions that were just given to the other NKVD agents.”
“Raskov and Konev might be there. They’ll recognize us when we drive up.”
“As we approach, we can decide how to proceed. In the meantime, I shall continue to monitor the radio band. They will not be able to communicate over it without letting us hear the message, too.”
“We’re driving right into the lion’s den,” said Wayne. “But if that’s where MC 4 is, that’s where we have to go.”
17
Steve, Judy, and Jane joined the work brigade for the day. They rode out to the antitank ditches with everyone else and spent the morning digging together. They moved far enough from the other workers to talk among themselves privately, but Steve did not call Hunter again. He knew that Hunter would not try to contact him, and that left him undecided about what to do.
At midday, they got in line with the others for lunch. After they received hard rolls and bowls of a thin vegetable soup, they sat down to eat by themselves on the top edge of the ditch. The other workers sat with their own friends.
“Have you looked up the ditch that way at all?” Jane pointed.
“Hm?” Judy turned, her mouth full.
“There’s a guy up there who’s small enough to be MC 4. I saw him just now.”
“Really?” Steve tore off a piece of a hard roll. “There must be hundreds of people in the ditch all around us. Where is he?”
“Right now, he’s lost in the crowd,” said Jane, leaning to her right as she tried to see him again. “And he was in the distance, almost out of sight.”