Roland jerked his thumb, imitating her gesture, toward the big knife she had stuck into her sash. “You ever kill anyone?” He gave her a challenging smirk.

“Uh-well, I’m still walking and talking, too.” She smiled back.

“So you are, Rita. So you are.”

They walked in silence for a while. Every so often, Roland greeted someone he knew. Hunter was easy to follow, since he towered head and shoulders above everyone else.

While Hunter, Steve, and Jane moved ahead through the crowd, looking for MC 2, Rita considered just how lucky she was to be here.

No historians had ever before had the chance to visit the era of human history they loved most. Only Chad Mora, the paleontologist who had accompanied Hunter’s team to the age of dinosaurs, had been able to experience the time he had studied. She wondered if Roland had sailed on any ships she would remember studying.

“Roland-” She stopped suddenly, not sure what she wanted to ask. Questioning a buccaneer about his adventures might be extremely unwise, and even dangerous, no matter how charming he appeared.

“Yes, Rita?”

“Uh-well, I’m curious about your adventures. But I don’t want to pry into your affairs.”

“Ah! Curious about the buccaneering life, eh?” Roland grinned again. “Well, no need to be shy, sweet lady; you wouldn’t be the first.”

“Well…I didn’t think so.” She laughed, embarrassed. Since she couldn’t tell him why she was curious about him, she wasn’t sure what to say.

“So tell me, Rita,” Roland said lightly, with a wary glance at Hunter in front of them. “Would you like to get better acquainted, then? And learn the buccaneer life? See Port Royal as I know it?”

Rita knew in an instant that this was what she really wanted. She also realized that Hunter would object since he was so concerned about the First Law and the danger that she might change human history if she wasn’t careful. However, she simply did not share his belief that rather ordinary actions in this era of Jamaican history would ultimately matter. She reminded herself again that Port Royal would be drowned in an earthquake in just over twenty years.

She gave Roland a quick nod.

Roland waited until Steve said something to Hunter, distracting him. Rita knew, of course, that, as a robot, Hunter had multiple sensors and the ability to monitor them all with his full attention if he wished. However, he had no reason to keep track of Rita at every moment and his attention was on Steve’s comment.

Suddenly Roland grabbed her wrist and slipped sideways into the crowd, pulling her after him. She saw that he was careful not to move too fast, or jostle anyone unnecessarily; that might attract Hunter’s attention. Instead, he moved carefully and patiently, allowing them to blend into the crowd without disruption as they worked their way toward a small side street.

Rita looked back over her shoulder at Hunter, who was by then some distance away. He was still walking in the same direction as before, unaware that she was no longer right behind him. Then Roland pulled harder on her wrist and she hurried after him around a corner and out of Hunter’s sight.

“Run, Rita,” Roland called cheerily. He began to jog, still pulling her after him.

With her free hand, she reached up to switch off the communicator pinned to her collar. If Hunter called her, it would make some sort of sound, and might attract Roland’s attention. She didn’t want to wind up drowned, hanged, or burned as a witch if a buccaneer heard voices apparently coming from nowhere.

“Hunter,” said Steve. “This is fun, but maybe we should find a place to spend the night. Like you said, if MC 2 is still microscopic, we can’t possibly find him yet.”

“A good point,” said Hunter, looking toward the wooden buildings lining the waterfront. “I see a number of signs for inns. Shall we try that one?” He pointed.

Steve laughed, and caught Jane’s eye. Shaking her head, she took Hunter’s arm.

“Is this funny?” Hunter asked.

“We don’t want to stay in a waterfront inn,” said Jane.

“Too rough, Hunter,” said Steve.

“The accommodations must still be better than those in our previous trip.”

“It’s not the building, Hunter,” said Steve, glancing at Jane again with a suppressed smile. “It’s the company. We need to find a place with a nicer clientele.”

“I understand now,” said Hunter. “So we should leave the waterfront and look around.” He stopped and turned. “Rita, which way should we go?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, also turning. “There must be a better part of town…” He trailed off, looking around.

“Rita?” Jane called.

“Just lost in the crowd for a minute, I guess,” said Steve, peering at the faces of all the people who were walking past them. “Rita!”

“No,” said Hunter. He was holding his head high, standing motionless. “I do not see her anywhere nearby. I have raised the sensitivity of my hearing, as well, and I do not hear her voice or Roland’s, either.”

“You think he snatched her?” Steve asked, still looking around in the crowd. “I should have been watching them, but this never occurred to me.”

“It was my failure, not yours,” said Hunter. “I failed my First Law obligation again. However, I doubt that she went under duress. I would have noticed even the slightest scuffling or call for help originating right behind us.”

“He was a charmer, all right,” said Jane. “And Rita seemed to like him right away.”

“We will have to pick up their trail,” said Hunter. “Come on.” He started back the way they had come, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“No point yelling for them,” said Steve. “If she sneaked away deliberately, they’ll both run harder if they know we’re looking for them.”

“Maybe they aren’t really running,” said Jane. “Maybe Roland just stopped to introduce her to a friend. Or maybe she saw a booth where she wanted to look at something.”

“Maybe,” Steve said reluctantly. “But she’s a historian, not a tourist.”

“That’s true,” said Jane.

Hunter said nothing.

Steve had never before seen Hunter act with the precise mix of deliberation, sternness, and yet uncertainty that he exhibited after Rita’s disappearance. Worried, Steve leaned close to Jane. “Is Hunter okay? He’s talking in a monotone and walking like it’s a military march. Is he having another First Law attack or something?”

“He’s okay so far.” said Jane. “But his First Law interpretation places Rita’s welfare above that of the local population. He’s vary anxious to find her.”

“Yeah.” Steve straightened again. “Not to mention his fear that she’ll change history.”

“Excuse me,” Hunter said politely, to a couple of young buccaneers walking nearby. “Do you know a Roland Burke? I am searching for him.”

“So?” They both laughed and moved on without breaking stride.

“Does anyone here know a Roland Burke? Has anyone seen him just now?” Hunter shouted, and his booming voice attracted considerable attention.

No one responded, however. They looked at him warily and just kept walking.

“Let’s go over there,” said Steve suddenly. He pointed to a small knot of people. In the center, a skinny, gray-bearded man dressed only in ragged knee breeches was juggling four belaying pins. Steve led the way this time.

When the juggler had completed his performance, a few onlookers tossed coins into a scarf folded carefully at his feet. Steve stepped up quickly. Hunter and Jane stayed where they were.

“Hold it, friends,” Steve called. “We’re looking for a friend named Roland Burke, or any other friend of his. Does anyone here know him?”

Most of the audience just walked away, but a couple of young men remained.

“I’d say every third man on the waterfront knows Roland,” said one of them, a tall, burly man with curly hair. “What’s it to you?”