Millaird, Kelgarries, Dr. Webb, all the top brass4 of the project had not only come through the transfer point to meet the three from Britain but were now crammed5 into the room, nearly pushing Ross and McNeil through the wall. Because this was it! What they had hunted for months—years—now lay almost within their grasp.
Only Millaird, the director, did not seem so confident. A big man with a bushy thatch6 of coarse graying hair and a heavy, fleshy face, he did not look like a brain. Yet Ross had been on the roster7 long enough to know that it was Millaird's thick and hairy hands that gathered together all the loose threads of Operation Retrograde and deftly8 wove them into a workable pattern. Now the director leaned back in a chair which was too small for his bulk, chewing thoughtfully on a toothpick.
"So we have the first whiff of a trail," he commented without elation9.
"A pretty strong lead!" Kelgarries broke in. Too excited to sit still, the major stood with his back against the door, as alert as if he were about to turn and face the enemy. "The Reds wouldn't have moved against Gog if they did not consider it a menace to them. Their big base must be in this time sector10!"
"A big base," Millaird corrected. "The one we are after, no. And right now they may be switching times. Do you think they will sit here and wait for us to show up in force?" But Millaird's tone, intended to deflate, had no effect on the major.
"And just how long would it take them to dismantle11 a big base?" that officer countered. "At least a month. If we shoot a team in there in a hurry—"
Millaird folded his huge hands over his barrel-shaped body and laughed, without a trace of humor. "Just where do we send that team, Kelgarries? Northeast of a coastal12 point in Britain is a rather vague direction, to say the least. Not," he spoke13 to Ashe now, "that you didn't do all you could, Ashe. And you, McNeil, nothing to add?"
"No, sir. They jumped us out of the blue when Sandy thought he had every possible line tapped, every safeguard working. I don't know how they caught on to us, unless they located our beam to this post. If so, they must have been deliberately14 hunting us for some time, because we only used the beam as scheduled——"
"The Reds have patience and brains and probably some more of their surprise gadgets15 to help them. We have the patience and the brains, but not the gadgets. And time is against us. Get anything out of this, Webb?" Millaird asked the hitherto silent third member of his ruling committee.
The quiet man adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, a flattish nose which did not support them very well. "Just another point to add to our surmises17. I would say that they are located somewhere near the Baltic Sea. There are old trade routes there, and in our own time it is a territory closed to us. We never did know too much about that section of Europe. Their installation may be close to the Finnish border. They could disguise their modern station under half a dozen covers; that is strange country."
Millaird's hands unfolded and he produced a notebook and pen from a shirt pocket. "Won't hurt to stir up some of the present-day agents of the M.I. and the rest. They might just come up with a useful hint. So you'd say the Baltic. But that is a big slice of country."
Webb nodded. "We have one advantage—the old trade routes. In the Beaker period they are pretty well marked. The major one into that section was established for the amber18 trade. The country is forested, but not so heavily as it was in an earlier period. The native tribes are mostly roving hunters, and fishermen along the coast. But they have had contact with traders." He shoved his glasses back into place with a nervous gesture. "The Reds may run into trouble themselves there at this time——"
"How?" Kelgarries demanded.
"Invasion of the ax people. If they have not yet arrived, they are due very soon. They formed one of the big waves of migratory19 people, who flooded the country, settled there. Eventually they became the Norse or Celtic stock. We don't know whether they stamped out the native tribes they found there or assimilated them."
"That might be a nice point to have settled more definitely," McNeil commented. "It could mean the difference between getting your skull20 split and continuing to breathe."
"I don't think they would tangle21 with the traders. Evidence found today suggests that the Beaker folk simply went on about their business in spite of a change in customers," Webb returned.
"Unless they were pushed into violence." Ashe handed his empty mug to Ross. "Don't forget Lurgha's Wrath22. From now on our enemies might take a very dim view of any Beaker trade posts near their property."
Webb shook his head slowly. "A wholesale23 attack on Beaker establishments would constitute a shift in history. The Reds won't dare that, not just on general suspicion. Remember, they are not any more eager to tinker with history than we are. No, they will watch for us. We will have to stop communication by radio——"
"We can't!" snapped Millaird vehemently24. "We can cut it down, but I won't send the boys out without some means of quick communication. You lab boys put your brains to work and see what you can turn out in the way of talk boxes that they can't snoop. Time!" He drummed on his knee with his thick fingers. "It all comes back to a question of time."
"Which we do not have," Ashe observed in his usual quiet voice. "If the Reds are afraid they have been spotted25, they must be dismantling26 their post right now, working around the clock. We'll never again have such a good chance to nail them. We must move now."
Millaird's lids drooped27 almost shut; he might have been napping. Kelgarries stirred restlessly by the door, and Webb's round face had settled into what looked like permanent lines of disapproval28.
"Doc," Millaird spoke over his shoulder to the fourth man of his following, "what is your report?"
"Ashe must be under treatment for at least five days. McNeil's burns aren't too bad, and Murdock's slash29 is almost healed."
"Five days—" Millaird droned, and then flashed a glance at the major. "Personnel. We're tied down without any useful personnel. Who in processing could be switched without tangling30 them up entirely31?"
"No one. I can recall Jansen and Van Wyke. These ax people might be a good cover for them." The momentary32 light in Kelgarries' eyes faded. "No, we have no proper briefing and can't get it until the tribe does appear on the map. I won't send any men in cold. Their blunders would not only endanger them but might menace the whole project."
"So that leaves us with you three," Millaird said. "We'll recall what men we can and brief them again as fast as possible. But you know how long that will take. In the meantime——"
Ashe spoke directly to Webb. "You can't pinpoint33 the region closer than just the Baltic?"
"We can do this much," the other answered him slowly, and with obvious reluctance34. "We can send the sub cruising offshore35 there for the next five days. If there is any radio activity—any communication—we should be able to trace the beams. It all depends upon whether the Reds have any parties operating from their post. Flimsy——"
"But something!" Kelgarries seized upon it with the relief of one who needed action.
"And they will be waiting for just such a move on our part," Webb continued deliberately.
"All right, so they'll be watching!" the major said, about to lose his temper, "but it is about the only move we can make to back up the boys when they do go in."
He whipped around the door and was gone. Webb got up slowly. "I will work over the maps again," he told Ashe. "We haven't scouted36 that area, and we don't dare send a photo-plane over it now. Any trip in will be a stab in the dark."
"When you have only one road, you take it," Ashe replied. "I'll be glad to see anything you can show me, Miles."
If Ross had believed that his pre-trial-run cramming37 had been a rigorous business, he was soon to laugh at that estimation. Since the burden of the next jump would rest on only three of them—Ashe, McNeil, and himself—they were plunged38 into a whirlwind of instruction, until Ross, dazed and too tired to sleep on the third night, believed that he was more completely bewildered than indoctrinated. He said as much sourly to McNeil.
"Base has pulled back three other teams," McNeil replied. "But the men have to go to school again, and they won't be ready to come on for maybe three, four weeks. To change runs means unlearning stuff as well as learning it——"
"What about new men?"
"Don't think Kelgarries isn't out now beating the bushes for some! Only, we have to be fitted to the physical type we are supposed to represent. For instance, set a small, dark-headed pugnose among your Norse sea rovers, and he's going to be noticed—maybe remembered too well. We can't afford to take that chance. So Kelgarries had to discover men who not only look the part but are also temperamentally fitted for this job. You can't plant a fellow who thinks as a seaman39—not a seaman, you understand, but one whose mind works in that pattern—among a wandering tribe of cattle herders. The protection for the man and the project lies in his being fitted into the right spot at the right time."
Ross had never really thought of that point before. Now he realized that he and Ashe and McNeil were of a common mold. All about the same height, they shared brown hair and light eyes—Ashe's blue, his own gray, and McNeil's hazel—and they were of similar build, small-boned, lean, and quick-moving. He had not seen any of the true Beakermen except on the films. But now, recalling those, he could see that the three time traders were of the same general physical type as the far-roving people they used as a cover.
It was on the morning of the fifth day while the three were studying a map Webb had produced that Kelgarries, followed at his own weighty pace by Millaird, burst in upon them.
"We have it! This time we have the luck! The Reds slipped. Oh, how they slipped!"
Webb watched the major, a thin little smile pulling at his pursed mouth. "Miracles sometimes do happen," he remarked. "I suppose the sub has a fix for us."
Kelgarries passed over the flimsy strip of paper he had been waving as a banner of triumph. Webb read the notation40 on it and bent41 over the map, making a mark with one of those needle-sharp pencils which seemed to grow in his breast pocket, ready for use. Then he made a second mark.
"Well, it narrows it a bit," he conceded. Ashe looked in turn and laughed.
"I would like to hear your definition of 'narrow' sometime, Miles. Remember we have to cover this on foot, and a difference of twenty miles can mean a lot."
"That mark is quite a bit in from the sea." McNeil offered his own protest when he saw the marking. "We don't know that country—"
Webb shoved his glasses back for the hundredth time that morning. "I suppose we could consider this critical, condition red," he said in such a dubious42 tone that he might have been begging someone to protest his statement. But no one did. Millaird was busy with the map.
"I think we do, Miles!" He looked to Ashe. "You'll parachute in. The packs with which you will be equipped are special stuff. Once you have them off sprinkle them with a powder Miles will provide and in ten minutes there won't be enough of them left for anyone to identify. We haven't but a dozen of these, and we can't throw them away except in a crisis. Find the base and rig up the detector43. Your fix in this time will be easy—but it is the other end of the line we must have. Until you locate that, stick to the job. Don't communicate with us until you have it!"
"There is the possibility," Ashe pointed44 out, "the Reds may have more than one intermediate post. They probably have played it smart and set up a series of them to spoil a direct trace, as each would lead only to another farther back in time——"
"All right. If that proves true, just get us the next one back," Millaird returned. "From that we can trace them along if we must send in some of the boys wearing dinosaur45 skins later. We have to find their primary base, and if that hunt goes the hard way, well, we do it the hard way."
"How did you get the fix?" McNeil asked.
"One of their field parties ran into trouble and yelled for help."
"Did they get it?"
The major grinned. "What do you think? You know the rules—and the ones the Reds play by are twice as tough on their own men."
"What kind of trouble?" Ashe wanted to know.
"Some kind of a local religious dispute. We do our best with their code, but we're not a hundred per cent perfect in reading it. I gather they were playing with a local god and got their fingers burned."
"Lurgha again, eh?" Ashe smiled.
"Foolish," Webb said impatiently. "That is a silly thing to do. You were almost over the edge of prudence46 yourself, Gordon, with that Lurgha business. To use the Great Mother was a ticklish47 thing to try, and you were lucky to get out of it so easily."
"Once was enough," Ashe agreed. "Though using it may have saved our lives. But I assure you I am not starting a holy war or setting up as a prophet."
Ross had been taught something of map reading, but mentally he could not make what he saw on paper resemble the countryside. A few landmarks48, if there were any outstanding ones, were all he could hope to impress upon his memory until he was actually on the ground.
Landing there according to Millaird's instruction was another experience he would not have chosen of his own accord. To jump was a matter of timing49, and in the dark with a measure of rain thrown in, the action was anything but pleasant. Leaving the plane in a blind, follow-the-leader fashion, Ross found the descent into darkness one of the worst trials he had yet faced. But he did not make too bad a landing in the small parklike expanse they had chosen for their target.
Ross pulled loose his harness and chute, dragging them to what he judged to be the center of the clearing. Hearing a plaintive50 bray51 from the air, he dodged52 as one of the two burden asses16 sent to join them landed and began to kick at its trappings. The animals they had chosen were the most docile53 available and they had been given sedation before the jump so that now, feeling Ross's hands, the donkey stood quietly while Ross stripped it of its hanging straps54.
"Rossa—" The sound of his Beaker name called through the dark brought Ross facing in the other direction.
"Here, and I have one of the donkeys."
"And I the other!" That was McNeil.
Their eyes adjusted to a gloom which was not as thick as it would be in the forest and they worked fast. Then they dragged the parachutes together in a heap. The rain would, Webb had assured them, add to the rapid destruction wrought56 by the chemical he had provided. Ashe shook it over the pile, and there was a faint greenish glow. Then they moved away to the woodland and made camp for the balance of the night.
So much of their whole exploit depended upon luck, and this small part had been successful. Unless some agent had been stationed to watch for their arrival Ross believed they could not be spotted.
The rest of their plan was elastic57. Posing as traders who had come to open a new station, they were to stay near a river which drained a lake and then angled southward to the distant sea. They knew this section was only sparsely58 settled by small tribes, hardly larger than family clans59. These people were generations behind the civilized60 level of the villagers of Britain—roving hunters who followed the sweep of game north or south with the seasons.
Along the seashore the fishermen had established more permanent holdings which were slowly becoming towns. There were perhaps a few hardy61 pioneer farmers on the southern fringes of the district, but the principle reason traders came to this region was to get amber and furs. The Beaker people dealt in both.
Now as the three sheltered under the wide branches of a towering pine Ashe fumbled62 with a pack and brought out the "beaker" which was the identifying mark of his adopted people. He measured into it a portion of the sour, stimulating63 drink which the traders introduced wherever they went. The cup passed from hand to hand, its taste unpleasant on the tongue, but comfortingly warm to one's middle.
They took turns keeping the watch until the gray of false dawn became the clearer light of morning. After breakfasting on flat cakes of meal, they packed the donkeys, using the same knots and cross lashing64 which were the mark of real Beaker traders. Their bows protected from dampness under their cloaks, they set out to find the river and their path southward.
Ashe led, Ross towed the donkeys, and McNeil brought up the rear. In the absence of a path they had to set a ragged55 course, keeping to the edge of the clearing until they saw the end of the lake.
"Woodsmoke," Ashe commented when they had completed two thirds of their journey. Ross sniffed65 and was able to smell it too. Nodding to Ashe, McNeil oozed66 into nothingness between the trees with an ease Murdock envied. As they waited for him to return, Ross became conscious of another life about them, one busy with its own concerns, which were in no way those of human beings, except that food and perhaps shelter were to be reckoned among them.
In Britain, Ross had known there were others of his kind about, but this was different. Here, he could have believed it if he had been told he was the first man to walk this way.
A squirrel ran out on a tree limb and surveyed the two men with curious beady eyes, then clung head down on the tree trunk to see them better. One of the donkeys tossed its head, and the squirrel was gone with a flirt67 of its tail. Although it was quiet, there was a hum underneath68 the surface which Ross tried to analyze69, to identify the many small sounds which went into its making.
Perhaps because he was trying so hard, he noted70 the faint noise. His hand touched Ashe's arm and a slight movement of his head indicated the direction of the sound. Then, as fluidly as he had melted into the woods, McNeil returned. "Company," he said in a soft voice.
"What kind?"
"Tribesmen, but wilder than any I've seen, even on the tapes. We are certainly out on the fringes now. These people look about cave level. I don't think they've ever heard of traders."
"How many?"
"Three, maybe four families. Most of the males must be out hunting, but there're about ten children and six or seven women. I don't think they've had good luck lately by the look of them."
"Maybe their luck and ours are going to turn together," Ashe said, motioning Ross forward with the donkeys. "We will circle about them to the river and then try bartering71 later. But I do want to establish contact."
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1
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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crookedly
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| adv. 弯曲地，不诚实地 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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roster
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| n.值勤表，花名册 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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dismantle
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| vt.拆开，拆卸；废除，取消 | |
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coastal
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| adj.海岸的，沿海的，沿岸的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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gadgets
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| n.小机械，小器具（ gadget的名词复数 ） | |
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asses
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| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
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surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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migratory
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| n.候鸟，迁移 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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wholesale
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vehemently
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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dismantling
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| （枪支）分解 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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tangling
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| （使）缠结， （使）乱作一团( tangle的现在分词 ) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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pinpoint
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| vt.准确地确定；用针标出…的精确位置 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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offshore
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| adj.海面的，吹向海面的；adv.向海面 | |
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scouted
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| 寻找，侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 )； 物色（优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等） | |
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cramming
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| n.塞满，填鸭式的用功v.塞入( cram的现在分词 )；填塞；塞满；（为考试而）死记硬背功课 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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notation
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| n.记号法，表示法，注释；[计算机]记法 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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detector
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| n.发觉者，探测器 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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dinosaur
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| n.恐龙 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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48
landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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49
timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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50
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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51
bray
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| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
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52
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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54
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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55
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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56
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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58
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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59
clans
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| 宗族( clan的名词复数 )； 氏族； 庞大的家族； 宗派 | |
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60
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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61
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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62
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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63
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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64
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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65
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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66
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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67
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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68
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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69
analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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70
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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71
bartering
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| v.作物物交换，以货换货( barter的现在分词 ) | |
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