A thin ice sheet covered the surface of Main Street, and the sodium lamps spaced alongside reflected the orange glow from the myriad ice particles that hung in the pre-dawn air. A line of four adapted cleaning droids trundled along, simultaneously cleaning and de-icing the surface. A beam of light designed to give the droids a visible warning of any obstacles in their path briefly illuminated a large heap of metal on the sidewalk. No alarm sounded, and the convoy continued its steady progress.
Sol lay supine on the wooden board of the sidewalk with his legs outstretched, his massive arms akimbo. He looked rather comical in that position, but nothing remotely funny about his predicament. It was beginning to snow, and despite his solid construction, there were numerous apertures in his body through which the snow water could enter his circuits. When Sol was active, his system would automatically repel any intrusion from outside, but he had shut down and was completely helpless. If enough snow flooded inside, his control systems would suffer irreparable damage, and there were no replacement parts in this dimension.
The snowfall intensified, and further down the sidewalk, slender beams of light from handheld flashlights scanned back and forth over the snow-covered surface as two men in hooded parka coats approached the spot where Sol lay.
"There he is!" exclaimed the front man.
" I don't know how he did it without power, but he is almost half a mile from where we left him. Give me a hand, Rogers."
The two men scraped the snow away from Sol's head, and the first man took off a glove and searched the area around the back of the robot's neck.
"Give me some light here. I can't see a thing."
Rogers brought his torch as close as he could.
"That any better, Jock?"
"Yes, hold it there. I have found the place. Just need to flip the top off. Have you got the device?"
Rogers handed Jock a cylindrical tube which he screwed into the narrow hole he had just exposed.
"Right, stand back," said Jock, and they retreated a couple of yards.
Jock took out a laser gun and sent a beam of light down the open end of the tube sticking out from Sol's neck. Sol jolted upward like an electrically resuscitated heart attack victim and then slumped back, showing no sign of life.
"That should have removed the block in his power line," said Jock. "Now, let's set the current flowing." He adjusted the dial inset into the gun's body and sent another bolt of light down the tube. Sol again jolted upward, but this time, he moved the whole of his body into a sitting position and became instantly alert, swivelling his head around to inspect the two figures standing over him. He ran the images of the men through his memory banks, taking less than a second, and rattled off:
Rogers and McCloud. Known data: Rogers was an intelligence asset controlled by agent Captain Komarov. Rogers and McCloud served with distinction under Professor Jarvis in the First War. The whereabouts of Rogers and McCloud after the defeat of their army are unknown. Ends."
"We are your allies, Sol, "said McCloud. We know you have a lot to ask, but please answer one question."
Sol interrupted him.
"Is David safe?"
"Safe and well, Sol. He is here on the base."
"When can I see him?"
"Soon, Sol. Very soon, but will you answer the question first? It is vitally important."
"Go ahead," said Sol. "I will if I am able."
"Thank you, Sol. The report you just read out, can you confirm that it came from current records?"
"Is that the question? Said Sol in surprise. "Of course it did. Records automatically update."
McCloud paused, trying to catch his breath. Rogers grimaced and looked down at the snow-covered ground. The two men were oblivious to the worsening weather and rising wind.
"Ask the records this second question, Sol, "said McCloud.
"What happened to Professor Jarvis?"
Sol replied instantly: "Professor Jarvis. Last known status: leader of the outlawed terrorist movement known as the 'Resistance.' Captured but escaped. No further information on Jarvis. Last recorded classification: 'Active Terrorist.' Location unknown. Ends."
Rogers whooped in excitement and flung his arms around McCloud.
"We did it, Jock. We changed the timeline! Jarvis escaped before the lobotomy."
Sol understood.
"Does this signify the start of the shift to an alternative future?"
"More of a reconnaissance mission to test the parameters. Our success probably means that the shift will soon get underway, but it is not our decision."
"The Tribus? asked Sol. It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes, we believe so," said Rogers.
Sol sounded surprised.
"You are not sure?"
Rogers did not reply and looked to McCloud for support, but he, too, remained silent.
The weather was worsening, and the wind was now a gale, whipping the falling snow into the faces of the two humans, who zipped up their hoods. The goggles they put on were of little use and instantly fogged over, but at least they protected their eyes from the stinging lash of the driven snow. It was difficult to stand, but Sol stepped in front of the two men, his massive bulk acting as a partial windbreak.
Rogers and McCloud were so close to Sol that in the gloom, an observer might mistake them for a single entity: a six-legged crab shuffling through the snow in search of shelter.