William Wu - Emperor

“Yeah. Well, I’ll go look for the latrine.” Stretching, Steve left the bungalow.

A moment later, Hunter heard Jane and Marcia talking to each other. He waited patiently while all three humans rose, dressed, used the latrine, and washed at the water pump out in the courtyard. Then he joined them. The early morning sunlight angled across the courtyard. The sky was clear and bright, though the air was still cool at this hour.

“Good morning,” said Hunter. “You are all ready for breakfast?”

“I’m starved,” said Steve, tugging his robe here and there. “I just hope I can get used to wearing this thing.”

“I need a shower,” said Marcia. “But I don’t think they’ve been invented yet. We can arrange baths later in the day, though.”

“I’m ready to get breakfast,” said Jane. “And if this is the neighborhood where foreign visitors are common, then we can start looking for MC 5 at the same time.”

“Let’s go back to the same place where I asked for directions,” said Steve. “I kind of promised we’d come back there to eat.”

“All right.” Hunter turned and led his team out of the courtyard through a gate to one side of the main building. “This is a logical beginning.”

Out on the street, Hunter found shops already open. The aroma of various foods cooking reached him. People filled the street, walking among pony carts and pushcarts.

Steve fell into step next to Hunter. “This is a regular city, isn’t it? On an ordinary day. Where would MC 5 go around here to find clothes?”

“As always, I have only approximated the time when he will return to his full size,” said Hunter. “I believe yesterday was the earliest; he may not appear for another day or two. I suppose, like the other component robots, he will have to steal clothing when he first arrives, either from someone’s trash or maybe from a line of laundry hung up to dry in the sunlight.”

A line of people waited at the stall where Steve had asked for information the night before. Long wooden tables and benches had been placed out in front. Hunter could see a big pot of rice gruel simmering over an open fire burning in a brick hearth. Customers bought bowls of the gruel and small plates of pork and chicken strips and fresh vegetables to stir into it.

Hunter and Steve took places in line and bought three breakfasts. At the same time, Marcia and Jane sat down at one of the tables and reserved seats for them. While the humans ate, Hunter patiently observed their surroundings.

Most of the people Hunter could see were Chinese, either tending small shops, pushing vending carts, or walking briskly. They wore light, pajamalike loose jackets and trousers. A smaller number, dressed in embroidered silk gowns, were clearly more wealthy. A very few people he could see, however, were not Chinese at all, though they were wearing Chinese gowns.

“Marcia, of what origin are the two men walking toward us on the far side of the street?” Hunter asked. “In our own time, I would guess they were from the Middle East.”

She looked up from her bowl. “That’s a good guess. In this era, I’d say they are Central Asian Turks. Starting a couple of centuries ago, several waves of migrating Turks moved westward from Central Asia into the Middle East, which is one reason that many people of this appearance live there in our own time. The Mongol conquest of the entire region has facilitated travel in all directions and, as I said, Kublai Khan has hired many foreigners to work in his government. In fact, these Turks probably arrived by the Old Silk Road, just as the Polo family~”

“That’s interesting,” Steve said quickly. “But what about them?” He pointed to two men of East Asian ancestry whose gowns were similar to their own, but whose hair was tightly drawn up into a knot on top of their heads. “Nobody else has that hairstyle.”

“They’re Koreans,” said Marcia. “Korea has long been a part of the Mongol empire by this year.”

“I think I see some Arabs,” said Jane. “They’re right across the street.”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Marcia. “The Arabs conquered the Turks some centuries ago and introduced them to Islam. They had some reason to regret it; some of the Turks revolted and overthrew them all the way back to Palestine.”

“I’m glad no one’s fighting here,” said Jane. “I guess Kublai Khan pacified them all, huh?”

“For the time being.” Marcia nodded. “But in only a few hundred years-”

“Hunter,” Steve said earnestly, interrupting her again. “What are we going to do after breakfast? To find MC 5, I mean? What’s our plan of action?”

“This is a good place to begin,” said Hunter. “We will start today by becoming familiar with the neighborhood and simply looking for MC 5.”

“No reason to stop with that,” said Steve. “We can also ask around-maybe offer a small reward to people for giving us a lead on him.”

“Marcia, will that be acceptable in this society?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, it will.”

“Good,” said Steve. “And I guess, based on past experience, we have to keep an eye out for Wayne Nystrom and Ishihara, too. Maybe we should offer a reward for them.”

“I agree,” said Hunter.

“They haven’t stopped you before,” said Marcia.

“They have come close,” said Hunter. “We must remain alert for them.”

The night before, Wayne and Ishihara had shared a modest dinner of white rice and steamed fish in the village. They had slept on pallets in a bedroom in one of the small houses. Though modest, the room was clearly a place of honor; Wayne noticed that the elderly man and his slight, stooped, gray-haired wife vacated it for them and went out to sleep in the main room with seven other people who seemed, by their mutual resemblance, to represent two more generations of the same family. Unable to communicate, Wayne could not protest. In any case, he wanted to maintain the pose that he and Ishihara were good spirits, and he was sure the peasants assumed good spirits would expect hospitality of this sort.

Wayne had fallen asleep quickly, and had slept soundly. When he finally awoke to the sound of roosters crowing outside and people speaking in the main room of the house, he felt well rested but hungry again.

He found Ishihara sitting against the closed door of the room, watching him.

“Morning,” Wayne said quietly. “Did you observe anything interesting during the night?”

“No. However, I can announce some minimal progress in learning the local language.”

“Really? How?”

“During the night, I have repeatedly reviewed my memory of all our contact with the villagers to this point. At the time we first met them, the First Law required that I focus my attention entirely on the potential danger to you. After I was satisfied that you were safe, I began reviewing the gestures and conversation of the villagers; also, of course, I was able to observe more of their conversation and gestures during dinner last night. When they rose early this morning, I was able to hear some of their speech through the door of our room.”

“Wait a minute. I’m no linguist. What’s the point of studying their gestures?”

“It was the only way I could begin to pick up vocabulary. For instance, every time someone passed or received a bowl of rice, the word fan was used in conversation.”

“So you’re sure it means rice? What if it means, hungry, or more of the same? ”

“You have identified the problem exactly,” said Ishihara. “Right now, I am making educated guesses. However, I will begin speaking some of these words and see how our hosts respond. I gave you only one example.”