Emperor iarit-5 Page 3

  “Thank you.” Hunter turned, gesturing for his team to follow. He led the way up the avenue in silence until they were out of the hearing of the guards. “Marcia, is this information consistent with yours?”

  “Yes. Many of the foreigners here live near the palace so they can attempt to get audiences with either the Emperor or important ministers.”

  Steve looked up and down the streets as they walked. Despite the growing darkness people remained out everywhere. Merchants were lighting candles’ inside paper lanterns hanging from poles to light their shops.

  “The shops are staying open, aren’t they?” Steve asked. “Is that normal?”

  “In the summer, yes,” said Marcia. “People like being out in the evening when it’s cool, so the merchants try to attract their business then.”

  “And all these streets are laid out on a right-angle grid,” said Jane. “It looks very modern. I guess I expected narrow, twisted streets going every which way.”

  “Cities of that sort grew spontaneously,” said Marcia, in her formal tone. “Khanbaliq was a planned city, laid out from the beginning as Kublai Khan’s capital.”

  “Was it the first?” Jane asked. “As an example of urban planning, I mean.”

  “No. I don’t know which city in the world has that honor.” Marcia shook her head. “I know that in China, the Tang Dynasty capital of Changan was built during Europe’s Dark Ages on a right-angle grid.”

  The team walked in silence for a while, looking at the sights. Other people continued to stare at Hunter in particular, whose height remained visible by his silhouette even as the shadows deepened. In the growing darkness, Jane’s facial features and brown hair were no longer obvious.

  “It looks…well…normal,” said Steve, after a while. “We haven’t been to a place like this before.”

  “That is true,” said Hunter. “The buccaneers dominated the docks of Port Royal. Moscow in 1941 faced a foreign invasion. Our other missions did not take us to cities at all. This city has a normal, functioning society at this time.”

  “Most of Asia was-is, rather-at peace now,” said Marcia. “The Mongols ruled only part of the Indian subcontinent, and did not rule Japan or the jungles of southeast Asia, but khans ruled the rest of Asia. Nominally, they all recognized Kublai Khan as their overlord.”

  “Wow,” said Jane.

  Steve clenched his teeth. He could hear another lecture from Marcia starting.

  “Kublai Khan attempted two invasions of Japan, both of which failed,” Marcia added. “One fleet was destroyed by the divine wind the Japanese call the original ‘kamikaze.’ And Mongols did conquer and rule part of northern India.”

  “They did?” Jane looked at her.

  “The word ‘Mogul’ is a corruption of ‘Mongol,’ “ said Marcia, “from India.”

  “Hunter, we must be getting close to the area,” said Steve. He was hoping to stop Marcia by changing the subject. “We have only passed four blocks,” said Hunter. “That is not far enough.”

  “Well, tell me, where are we going to stay? Another inn, I suppose? You want to look for the one the guard mentioned?”

  “That would be acceptable,” said Hunter. “As you have said to me at certain times, we must improvise.”

  “It looks safe,” said Jane. “In Port Royal, I always felt that any buccaneer could be a thief or a cutthroat. Here I see lots of young women walking around casually by themselves.”

  “It’s a prosperous, peaceful country,” said Marcia. “One that is ruled by an Emperor with absolute power. In fact, a historian once said that in Kublai Khan’s time, a young woman could travel alone from Palestine to Korea with a sack of gold and not be bothered by anyone.”

  “Hard to believe,” Steve muttered. “That is, without robots around.”

  “The death penalty was used freely,” said Marcia.

  “We must all remember that,” said Hunter.

  “But I wonder what MC 5 will try to do in a society that is fundamentally safe for humans,” said Steve.

  “I would not characterize it as safe,” said Hunter, “not when the death penalty is utilized frequently.”

  “I think that kind of concern might provide our answer,” said Jane. “That is, MC 5 may try to change government values and policy. I suppose that would mean influencing Kublai Khan himself. Marcia, what do you think?”

  “Well, you’re the roboticist, of course,” Marcia said carefully. “I don’t know how this robot thinks. But in terms of the way this society operates, your idea makes sense. At the very least, someone who wants to influence policy would try to become involved with the circle of advisors around the Emperor, maybe by working for one of them.”

  “How would MC 5-or anyone else-go about accomplishing that?” Hunter asked.

  “Through connections,” said Marcia. “Introductions are very important here.”

  “We know he doesn’t know anyone here,” Steve said impatiently. “He’s going to show up naked, like the other component robots have. Long before he gets a job with the Emperor, he’ll have to find a pair of pants.”

  Jane laughed. “That’s true, but the others all managed. MC 5 will too, I’m sure.”

  Steve shrugged. “I think we’ll find him out on the street somewhere, not in the halls of government.” He looked up the street. “We must be getting close to this neighborhood by now, Hunter.”

  “We will turn right at the next block,” said Hunter. “Marcia, how would MC 5 create the kind of network he needs in this society when he arrives here without contacts of any kind?”

  “Well…what kind of education does he have?”

  “Education?” Steve snickered. “What does that have to do with what a fleeing robot does?”

  “Has he heard of Marco Polo?” Marcia asked pointedly. “If so, he might begin with him.”

  “I do not know exactly what data the component robots have,” said Hunter. “However, I think MC 5 could very likely have at least a passing knowledge of Marco Polo. How would MC 5 make use of this information?”

  Marcia glanced at Jane. “Is that a robotics question? Or a historical one?”

  Jane shrugged, smiling. “Hard to say. You start.”

  “Well, during this time, Marco Polo-as opposed to his father and uncle, who were advanced in years now-has been a traveling envoy of the Emperor, visiting various Chinese provinces and returning to report to Kublai Khan. Right now, he is back in Khanbaliq.”

  “So he could be found,” said Jane.

  “Yes. And he’s respected at court, a familiar name and face to many people. I think MC 5 could track him down without great difficulty.”

  “Then so can we,” said Hunter. “We shall begin tomorrow.”

  Hunter led them around a corner and up a smaller street. By this time, night had fallen completely, but the moon was nearly full. It shed a great deal of light out of the cloudless sky. Around them, hanging paper lanterns lit all the little shops lining the street.

  “This isn’t a residential block, Hunter,” said Steve. “Maybe we should ask for directions again.”

  “Steve should do it,” said Marcia. “Ask one of these merchants. But I don’t recommend that Inn of the White Swan. The guards probably get a kickback for mentioning it, and we’ll have to pay a higher rate to cover it.”

  That was a principle Steve understood. Wearily moving the cloth bag to his opposite shoulder, Steve walked up to a shop that had no customers. A young man behind the wooden counter was wiping it off perfunctorily with a damp cloth. A woman sat on a stool, yawning, with a sleeping baby in one arm. Two older children were scrubbing out a large iron pot.

  “Good evening,” Steve said politely. “We are travelers from outside the city. Can you tell me where we might find lodging for the night?”

  The man’s face tightened with annoyance. “You don’t want anything to eat?”

  Steve pulled a couple of small coins out and laid them on the counter. “We may be here for some time, friend. Tom
orrow, we’ll be hungry allover again.”

  The other man forced an affected smile. “Of course, of course.” He scooped up the coins without looking down at them. “I am Liu Guan, at your service. May I suggest the Prosperity Inn, two blocks south on your left?”

  “Thank you.” Steve returned to the others and pointed down the street. They all started walking again.

  “You had to bribe him,” Jane asked, “just to answer a question?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that label is a little harsh,” said Marcia. “Call it a tip.”

  Steve said nothing, afraid he would start Marcia on another boring lecture. Instead, he walked faster, looking into the shadows ahead for the Prosperity Inn. The others did not speak, either. He hoped Jane and Hunter were also learning that inviting Marcia to talk was a bad idea.

  Soon a large, single-story building came into view with a long, vertical sign running down the left side of the entrance. In the yellowish light from the lanterns hanging from the eaves, Steve could read, PROSPERITY INN. Similar light illuminated the shades on the windows.

  “Which one of us should make the arrangements?” Hunter asked Marcia.

  “Steve,” said Marcia. “You and Jane are masquerading as foreigners, and in this society-and as Steve’s wife-I would not take that kind of initiative while he’s here. But we’ll all go in together.”

  “Okay,” said Steve. He led them inside.

  Small flames burned in brass oil lamps resting on wooden tables, lighting the room. A portly man with gray hair hurried forward to greet them. He wore a light blue robe similar to Steve’s.

  “Welcome, friends. Welcome.” He bowed at the waist.

  Remembering Marcia’s briefing on the subject earlier, Steve imitated the man’s bow.

  “You are together? Two families?” The innkeeper looked in surprise at Jane and Hunter but said nothing else.

  “Yes,” said Steve. “My wife and I are hosting two guests from another country. I am a scholar seeking an appointment.”

  “Ah!” The innkeeper nodded eagerly. “Perhaps you would like a private bungalow, then? We have several in the courtyard behind the main building for special guests. I can offer you a bungalow with two bedrooms.”

  Steve glanced back at Hunter, who nodded.

  “How much?”

  “One silver per night.”

  Steve had no idea if that was a fair price or not, but he suspected the innkeeper assumed he would bargain. Casually, he glanced back at Marcia, who shook her head slightly. She stroked her hair with two fingers and wiggled them a little.

  “Too high,” Steve said firmly to the innkeeper. “Two.” He had no idea what this meant, but it was the best he could do without revealing his ignorance.

  “Two-coppers?” The innkeeper folded his arms. “No. Six coppers.”

  Now Steve knew where he stood. “Two coppers,” he said confidently.

  “Hm, well, maybe five. This is an entire private bungalow, you know.”

  “Two.”

  The innkeeper hesitated, glancing at all of them. “Four coppers.”

  “Two.”

  “No. Four.”

  Steve turned and walked back toward the door, grinning when he had his back to the innkeeper. “Come on.” Without looking behind him, Steve opened the door and walked back outside. The sound of footsteps told him that the rest of the team was following him without speaking. Then, as he expected, another set of footsteps ran after them.

  “Fine, fine. Two coppers a night for my special guests,” the innkeeper called.

  Steve stopped and looked back. The innkeeper smiled eagerly, gesturing for them to return. The team members waited for Steve’s reaction.

  “Two coppers,” the innkeeper repeated.

  “Fine,” Steve echoed. “We will stay.”

  The innkeeper led them through the main building and out a rear door. It opened on a courtyard enclosed on all four sides by a high masonry wall. Several bungalows stood lined up in the courtyard; in the shadows, Steve could not see how many. Carrying a small brass oil lamp, the innkeeper led them to the first bungalow. He lit the hanging lamps over the door and then two more small brass lamps inside.

  Steve glanced around inside. It was clean and nicely furnished. The tables and chairs were made of plain but highly polished wood, intricately carved in patterns with tight curls. The innkeeper led them to both bedrooms; the heavy bed frames were made of the same kind of wood, and quilted cotton comforters covered them. A small fireplace, which they would not need, warmed the bungalow in winter.

  “It is adequate.” Steve tried to sound unenthusiastic, to maintain his bargaining position in the future.

  Hunter paid the innkeeper without speaking.

  The innkeeper walked backward out of the door, bowing to them repeatedly, and closed it behind him.

  4

  Steve let out a breath of relief and grinned at the others. “I’m glad my bargaining worked out. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  “You got my signal,” said Marcia. “Very good. When we know the proper price of goods and services, bargaining is easy enough.”

  “We aren’t cheating him, are we?” Jane asked. “We’re only paying a small fraction of what he wanted.”

  “No,” said Marcia. “He wouldn’t have accepted if he could get a better price from someone else. It’s late now and this bungalow would probably go empty tonight without us. Besides, the economy isn’t strong here right now.”

  “Huh?” Steve was surprised. “I thought Kublai Khan was some kind of great benevolent dictator.”

  “For his time, he was very enlightened,” said Marcia. “But the Mongol emperors were not good rulers economically. The first issue of paper money from Kublai Khan, made in 1260, was recalled three years ago in 1287, on a one-to-five basis-your money was only worth twenty percent of its face value. Another depreciation of the same magnitude will happen again in less than twenty years-”

  “So money is tight for ordinary people,” Steve interrupted quickly. “Okay, I get it.”

  “I’m tired after that walk,” said Jane, just as fast. “I’m ready for bed, I think.” She glanced at Marcia warily. “How about you?”

  “Well, yes, I am, too. It’s rather late by our schedule, isn’t it?”

  I suggest you two take the larger bedroom,” said Hunter. “Steve can have the smaller one. I shall spend the night here in the front room.”

  “Always on the lookout for the unforeseen danger.” Steve grinned. He took his change of clothes for the morning out of the bag, then handed the bag to Jane. “Well, I’m ready for a good night’s sleep, too. Good night.”

  Dr. Wayne Nystrom landed flat on his back at dusk on the edge of some plowed field. The ground and air temperature were warm; this felt like a summer evening, which was what he expected. Next to him, he could see R. Ishihara sitting up. They both wore the tunics, leggings, and boots that Ishihara had originally designed for their trip to Roman Germany in A.D. 9. Wayne also still wore a long fur cloak that he had acquired, though Ishihara had traded his cloak away on their most recent trip to the area around Moscow in December 1941.

  Wayne pushed himself up into a sitting position and saw a group of ten or twelve people standing about ten meters away, staring at them in shock. They wore thin shirts and trousers, and carried hoes, rakes, and scythes over their shoulders. Their faces were shadowed by basketlike hats made of woven grass.

  With a sudden chorus of frightened shouts, the entire group turned and ran.

  Wayne glanced around in other directions. Only a few meters away, an unpaved road led to a city that was visible in the distance. Many people were on it, going both to and from the city. “What do we do now? They saw us appear like magic.”

  “I do not know,” said Ishihara, as he stood up. “Have we arrived in the right location? If not, we can simply move in time again and hope that seeing us arrive will have no serious effect on them.”

  “This looks li
ke the right place,” said Wayne, getting to his feet. “At least, I’d say that group is a bunch of Chinese peasants. And the weather feels right.”

  “I agree.”

  “The measurements I took from the console on the time travel sphere indicated that I should set the controls for the outskirts of Beijing in 1290,” said Wayne. “If that city’s Beijing, then this is where we want to be.”

  “The system has always worked correctly before,” said Ishihara. “Apparently it is still reliable.”

  Wayne looked down the road. The peasants had stopped running. Now they were talking excitedly among themselves, while still watching Wayne and Ishihara suspiciously. “I don’t know what kind of explanation we can give them. Maybe we better start walking.”

  “Set the belt unit for another time,” said Ishihara. “If we have to use it in hurry, it will be ready.”

  “Yeah.” Wayne paused and set the unit for the same location three hours later, after dark. Most likely, no one would be out here then. He glanced back at the group of peasants and froze.

  They were coming closer, slowly. The men who held long-handled farm implements advanced in the front, holding their tools forward as weapons. Other men and women, holding smaller tools, followed them. Some were shouting angrily.

  “Be prepared to trigger the belt unit,” said Ishihara. “It is too late to run from them.”

  “All right. But maybe we can communicate somehow. I don’t suppose you know any medieval Chinese, though, huh?”

  “No, I do not.”

  Wayne forced a smile and held up a hand in greeting. “Hello,” he called out. More softly, he added, “I’m hoping they can understand a friendly tone of voice.”

  The peasants stopped, still speaking excitedly among themselves. They kept their tools high, however. None of them looked away.

  “I strongly recommend you trigger the belt unit,” said Ishihara.

  “They keep saying something like‘guei’ or‘kuai’- something like that,” said Wayne. “Any idea what it means?”