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.”