The Technicolor Time Machine

Something clicked in Barney’s mind and he roused himself from the spectator attitude that had possessed him while he watched the two heavyweights square off and prepare for a murderous slugging match.

“Stop!” he shouted, but they ignored him completely. He tried again in Old Norse, “Nemit stadar!”[14] with the same result. “Fire a couple of shots into the air,” he called over to Dallas. “Break this thing up before it gets started.”

Tex fired at the gravel so that the mashed bullets ricocheted, screaming out over the water. The two Vikings turned, their personal differences forgotten for the moment. Barney hurried over.

“Ottar, listen to me, I think I know what this is all about.”

“I know what’s it about,” Ottar rumbled, clenching one sledgehammer-sized fist. “Nobody calls Ottar a—”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds—just a difference of opinion.” He tugged at Ottar’s arm without budging him a fraction of an inch. “Doc, take Thorhall up to the house and buy him a couple of beers while I talk to Ottar.”

Dallas fired a few more shots to keep the conversation going and eventually the two men were separated and Thorhall hurried off for a drink. “Could you sail to Vinland in your own ship?” Barney asked.

Ottar, still angry, had to blink and shake his head for a few seconds before he knew what Barney was talking about.

“Ship? What about my ship?” he finally said.

Barney patiently repeated the question and Ottar shook his head in a very positive no.

“Stupid question,” he said. “Longships for raiding, up rivers, along the shore. No good in big seas. For going across the ocean you must have a knorr. This is knorr.”

The differences were obvious now that Barney was looking for them. Where the dragon-prowed Viking ship was long and narrow, this knorr was wide and stood high out of the water—and was at least a hundred feet long. It appeared a sound vessel in every aspect.

“Could you go to Vinland in this ship?” Barney asked.

“Sure,” Ottar said, glancing up toward Thorhall and clenching his fists.

“Then why don’t you buy it from Thorhall?”

“You too!” Ottar roared at Barney.

“Wait—hold on, just listen. If I kick in part of the money, can you afford to buy this thing?”

“Cost a lot of marks.”

“Yachting is an expensive hobby. Can you buy it?”

“Could be.”

“That’s agreed then. If he says you bought it a couple of months ago then you must have—don’t hit me! I’ll give you the money and the Prof will take you back to Iceland to make the deal and things will be all okay.”

“What you talking about?”

Barney turned to Jens Lyn, who had listened to the entire conversation. “You’re following me, aren’t you, Jens? We agreed this morning that Ottar was to sail to Vinland. He tells me now he needs a different ship for the job. Thorhall says he came and bought this one two months ago. So he must have done it. So let’s arrange quick for him to do it—before this thing gets any more complicated. Take Dallas along for protection and explain the whole thing to Hewett. You better use the motorboat. Go with the whole bunch to Iceland—to Iceland a couple of months ago, buy the ship, arrange for it to get here today, then get right back. Shouldn’t take you more than a half an hour. Pick up some marks from the cashier to buy the ship with. And don’t forget to talk to Thorhall before you go and find out how much Ottar paid so you can bring the right amount.”

“What you are saying is a paradox,” Jens said. “I don’t believe this is possible—”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe. You’re on salary. Just do it. I’ll oil Thorhall up so he’ll be in a better mood when you get back.”

The jeep pulled away and Barney went to liven up the dispirited drinking party. The northmen stayed carefully in two groups, the newcomers behind their leader, and there were many black looks and very little drinking. Gino came up with a bottle he had pulled out of his lens bag.

“Like a slug of this, Barney?” he asked. “Real grappa from the old country. I can’t drink the local brew.”

“Your stuff is almost as bad,” Barney told him. “But try Thorhall, he’ll probably like it.”

Gino pulled out the corncob cork and took a long drag, then held it out to Thorhall. “Drekkit!” he said in passable Old Norse, “ok verid velkomnir til Orkneyja.”[15]

The red-bearded Viking accepted the hospitality, took a drink, coughed, looked closely at the bottle then drank again.

The jeep returned in less than the half an hour Barney had estimated, but there had still been enough time to get the party rolling, the ale flowing and most of the grappa finished. There was a marked pause in the joviality when Ottar strode over to them. Thorhall stood up quickly and put his back to the wall, but Ottar was beaming with pleasure. He pounded Thorhall on the shoulder and in a moment the difficulty was over, everyone relaxed and the party really got rolling.