"... and that is about all." Ten days later Ashe, a on his leg and a of the pain lines from his face, sat on a in the time post nursing a of coffee in his hands and smiling, a little crookedly, at Nelson Millaird.
Millaird, Kelgarries, Dr. Webb, all the top of the project had not only come through the transfer point to meet the three from Britain but were now into the room, nearly pushing Ross and McNeil through the wall. Because this was it! What they had for months—years—now almost their grasp.
Only Millaird, the director, did not so confident. A big man with a of and a heavy, face, he did not look like a brain. Yet Ross had been on the long to know that it was Millaird's thick and hands that together all the of Operation Retrograde and them into a pattern. Now the in a chair which was too small for his bulk, on a toothpick.
"So we have the of a trail," he without elation.
"A lead!" Kelgarries in. Too to still, the major with his against the door, as as if he were about to turn and the enemy. "The Reds wouldn't have moved against Gog if they did not it a to them. Their big must be in this time sector!"
"A big base," Millaird corrected. "The one we are after, no. And right now they may be times. Do you think they will here and wait for us to up in force?" But Millaird's tone, to deflate, had no on the major.
"And just how long would it take them to a big base?" that officer countered. "At least a month. If we shoot a team in there in a hurry—"
Millaird his hands over his barrel-shaped and laughed, without a of humor. "Just where do we send that team, Kelgarries? Northeast of a point in Britain is a direction, to say the least. Not," he spoke 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 when Sandy he had every possible line tapped, every safeguard working. I don't know how they on to us, unless they our to this post. If so, they must have been us for some time, we only used the as scheduled——"
"The Reds have patience and and some more of their 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 third of his committee.
The man his on the of his nose, a nose which did not support them very well. "Just another point to add to our surmises. I would say that they are near the Baltic Sea. There are old there, and in our own time it is a closed to us. We did know too much about that of Europe. Their may be close to the Finnish border. They their modern station under a dozen covers; that is country."
Millaird's hands and he produced a notebook and pen from a shirt pocket. "Won't to up some of the present-day 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 routes. In the Beaker period they are well marked. The major one into that was for the trade. The country is forested, but not so as it was in an period. The native are mostly hunters, and along the coast. But they have had with traders." He his into place with a gesture. "The Reds may into trouble themselves there at this time——"
"How?" Kelgarries demanded.
"Invasion of the ax people. If they have not yet arrived, they are very soon. They one of the big of people, who the country, settled there. Eventually they the Norse or Celtic stock. We don't know they out the native they there or them."
"That might be a point to have settled more definitely," McNeil commented. "It the your and to breathe."
"I don't think they would with the traders. Evidence today that the Beaker on about their in of a in customers," Webb returned.
"Unless they were pushed into violence." Ashe his empty to Ross. "Don't Lurgha's Wrath. From now on our might take a very view of any Beaker near their property."
Webb his slowly. "A attack on Beaker would a shift in history. The Reds won't that, not just on suspicion. Remember, they are not any more to with history than we are. No, they will watch for us. We will have to stop by radio——"
"We can't!" Millaird vehemently. "We can cut it down, but I won't send the boys out without some means of quick communication. You boys put your to work and see what you can turn out in the way of talk boxes that they can't snoop. Time!" He on his with his thick fingers. "It all comes to a question of time."
"Which we do not have," Ashe in his voice. "If the Reds are they have been spotted, they must be their post right now, around the clock. We'll again have such a good to them. We must move now."
Millaird's almost shut; he might have been napping. Kelgarries by the door, and Webb's had settled into what looked like permanent lines of disapproval.
"Doc," Millaird spoke over his to the fourth man of his following, "what is your report?"
"Ashe must be under for at least five days. McNeil's aren't too bad, and Murdock's is almost healed."
"Five days—" Millaird droned, and then a at the major. "Personnel. We're without any useful personnel. Who in be without them up entirely?"
"No one. I can Jansen and Van Wyke. These ax people might be a good for them." The light in Kelgarries' faded. "No, we have no proper and can't it until the appear on the map. I won't send any men in cold. Their would not only them but might the whole project."
"So that us with you three," Millaird said. "We'll what men we can and 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 the region closer than just the Baltic?"
"We can do this much," the other answered him slowly, and with reluctance. "We can send the there for the next five days. If there is any radio activity—any communication—we should be able to the beams. It all upon the Reds have any parties from their post. Flimsy——"
"But something!" Kelgarries upon it with the of one who needed action.
"And they will be waiting for just such a move on our part," Webb deliberately.
"All right, so they'll be watching!" the major said, about to his temper, "but it is about the only move we can make to up the boys when they do go in."
He around the door and was gone. Webb got up slowly. "I will work over the again," he told Ashe. "We haven't that area, and we don't send a photo-plane over it now. Any in will be a in the dark."
"When you have only one road, you take it," Ashe replied. "I'll be to see anything you can me, Miles."
If Ross had that his pre-trial-run had been a business, he was soon to laugh at that estimation. Since the of the next jump would on only three of them—Ashe, McNeil, and himself—they were into a of instruction, until Ross, and too to sleep on the third night, that he was more than indoctrinated. He said as much to McNeil.
"Base has three other teams," McNeil replied. "But the men have to go to again, and they won't be to come on for maybe three, four weeks. To means as well as learning it——"
"What about new men?"
"Don't think Kelgarries isn't out now the for some! Only, we have to be to the physical type we are to represent. For instance, set a small, dark-headed among your Norse sea rovers, and he's going to be noticed—maybe too well. We can't to take that chance. So Kelgarries had to men who not only look the part but are also for this job. You can't plant a who thinks as a seaman—not a seaman, you understand, but one mind in that pattern—among a of herders. The protection for the man and the project in his being into the right spot at the right time."
Ross had of that point before. Now he that he and Ashe and McNeil were of a common mold. All about the same height, they and light eyes—Ashe's blue, his own gray, and McNeil's hazel—and they were of build, small-boned, lean, and quick-moving. He had not any of the true Beakermen on the films. But now, those, he see that the three time were of the same physical type as the far-roving people they used as a cover.
It was on the of the day while the three were studying a map Webb had produced that Kelgarries, at his own by Millaird, in upon them.
"We have it! This time we have the luck! The Reds slipped. Oh, how they slipped!"
Webb the major, a thin little at his mouth. "Miracles sometimes do happen," he remarked. "I the has a for us."
Kelgarries passed over the of paper he had been as a banner of triumph. Webb read the on it and over the map, making a mark with one of those needle-sharp which to in his pocket, for use. Then he a second mark.
"Well, it it a bit," he conceded. Ashe looked in turn and laughed.
"I would like to your of 'narrow' sometime, Miles. Remember we have to this on foot, and a of twenty miles can a lot."
"That mark is a in from the sea." McNeil offered his own when he saw the marking. "We don't know that country—"
Webb his for the hundredth time that morning. "I we this critical, condition red," he said in such a that he might have been someone to his statement. But no one did. Millaird was with the map.
"I think we do, Miles!" He looked to Ashe. "You'll in. The with which you will be are special stuff. Once you have them off them with a Miles will provide and in ten minutes there won't be of them left for anyone to identify. We haven't but a dozen of these, and we can't them away in a crisis. Find the and up the detector. Your in this time will be easy—but it is the other end of the line we must have. Until you that, to the job. Don't with us until you have it!"
"There is the possibility," Ashe pointed out, "the Reds may have more than one post. They have played it and set up a series of them to a direct trace, as each would lead only to another in time——"
"All right. If that proves true, just us the next one back," Millaird returned. "From that we can them along if we must send in some of the boys skins later. We have to their base, and if that goes the hard way, well, we do it the hard way."
"How did you the fix?" McNeil asked.
"One of their parties ran into trouble and for help."
"Did they it?"
The major grinned. "What do you think? You know the rules—and the ones the Reds play by are twice as on their own men."
"What of trouble?" Ashe wanted to know.
"Some of a local religious dispute. We do our best with their code, but we're not a hundred perfect in reading it. I they were playing with a local god and got their burned."
"Lurgha again, eh?" Ashe smiled.
"Foolish," Webb said impatiently. "That is a thing to do. You were almost over the of yourself, Gordon, with that Lurgha business. To use the Great Mother was a thing to try, and you were lucky to out of it so easily."
"Once was enough," Ashe agreed. "Though using it may have saved our lives. But I you I am not starting a or setting up as a prophet."
Ross had been something of map reading, but he not make what he saw on paper the countryside. A landmarks, if there were any ones, were all he to upon his memory until he was actually on the ground.
Landing there according to Millaird's was another he would not have of his own accord. To jump was a of timing, and in the dark with a measure of rain in, the action was anything but pleasant. Leaving the plane in a blind, follow-the-leader fashion, Ross the into one of the he had yet faced. But he did not make too a landing in the small they had for their target.
Ross his and chute, them to what he to be the center of the clearing. Hearing a from the air, he as one of the two sent to join them and to at its trappings. The animals they had were the most available and they had been the jump so that now, Ross's hands, the while Ross it of its straps.
"Rossa—" The of his Beaker name called through the dark Ross in the other direction.
"Here, and I have one of the donkeys."
"And I the other!" That was McNeil.
Their to a which was not as thick as it would be in the and they fast. Then they the together in a heap. The rain would, Webb had them, add to the by the chemical he had provided. Ashe it over the pile, and there was a glow. Then they moved away to the and for the of the night.
So much of their whole upon luck, and this small part had been successful. Unless some agent had been to watch for their Ross they not be spotted.
The of their plan was elastic. Posing as who had come to open a new station, they were to near a river which a and then to the sea. They this was only settled by small tribes, larger than family clans. These people were the level of the of Britain—roving who the of game north or south with the seasons.
Along the the had more permanent which were slowly towns. There were a farmers on the southern of the district, but the came to this region was to and furs. The Beaker people in both.
Now as the three under the wide of a Ashe with a pack and out the "beaker" which was the mark of his people. He into it a of the sour, drink which the they went. The cup passed from hand to hand, its taste on the tongue, but warm to one's middle.
They took the watch until the of false the light of morning. After on of meal, they packed the donkeys, using the same and which were the mark of Beaker traders. Their protected from under their cloaks, they set out to the river and their path southward.
Ashe led, Ross the donkeys, and McNeil up the rear. In the of a path they had to set a course, to the of the until they saw the end of the lake.
"Woodsmoke," Ashe when they had two of their journey. Ross and was able to it too. Nodding to Ashe, McNeil into the trees with an Murdock envied. As they waited for him to return, Ross of another life about them, one with its own concerns, which were in no way those of beings, that food and were to be among them.
In Britain, Ross had there were others of his about, but this was different. Here, he have it if he had been told he was the man to walk this way.
A ran out on a tree and the two men with eyes, then on the tree to see them better. One of the its head, and the was gone with a of its tail. Although it was quiet, there was a the surface which Ross to analyze, to identify the many small which into its making.
Perhaps he was trying so hard, he noted the noise. His hand touched Ashe's arm and a movement of his the direction of the sound. Then, as as he had melted into the woods, McNeil returned. "Company," he said in a soft voice.
"What kind?"
"Tribesmen, but than any I've seen, on the tapes. We are out on the now. These people look about level. I don't think they've 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 by the look of them."
"Maybe their luck and ours are going to turn together," Ashe said, Ross with the donkeys. "We will circle about them to the river and then try later. But I do want to contact."
