Hunter walked up to one tube, which was slightly smaller in diameter than the rest. Like the others, it was made of clear superglass; seeing inside it was no problem. While the other tubes seemed to be moving along the generic essentials of life — clothing and so on — this narrow tube was carrying something else. Hunter could just barely make out a few of the items as they went flying by, but these things were very telling. This tube was carrying very personal items, valuable things: coins, gemstones, jewelry, and even some paper currency. And turning within this swiftly moving stream of booty, Hunter saw something else: many, many mind rings.
"Hey, mook — what the hell are you doing?"
Hunter spun around to find an enormous individual had suddenly come up behind him. This man towered over him and was an especially rough-looking character. A heavy beard covered his chin, a slimy mustache adorned his upper lip. Contempt was etched in his face.
"Did you hear me?" he growled at Hunter again. "What the hell are you doing way out here?"
This man was obviously some kind of boss, a foreman, Hunter guessed. He was wearing a jet-black combat suit of an almost satin quality. There were lightning bolts splashed all over it, the first ornament Hunter had seen on anyone here.
"I'm on my break," Hunter finally managed to say. "I'm just stretching my legs…."
The foreman screwed up his face in an expression of pure bewilderment.
"Break?" he said, mouthing the word as if he'd never heard it used in this context before. "What the hell do you mean?"
Hunter tried to recover. "You know, a break… from my job? I'm taking a few minutes off."
"Taking a few minutes off?" the foreman roared. "You just came on duty!"
The foreman took three steps toward Hunter. He must have weighed at least three hundred pounds, probably more. Hunter wondered what would happen if he had to duke it out with this guy. Could you get hurt inside a mind ring? How about a mind ring that was suffering from chronic overuse?
"We've got a goddamn ship to land," the foreman spat at him, pointing to another huge space vessel that was passing over their heads. "And you're in an area off limits to mooks. So turn around and get back to the crew pit, or I'll break your back with one hand."
"OK, OK, I'll get right on it," Hunter said, pushing his way past the foreman. He made a quick U-turn and tried to go back through the perimeter gate. But two heavily armed guards were suddenly blocking his way. Both were about the same size as the foreman.
"ID…" one of them demanded.
"I'm the new guy," Hunter tried to lie.
"I said, let me see your ID, wiseass," the guard growled at him. "No one gets out without showing it."
"I lost it…" Hunter shot back.
"Lost it?" the second guard barked. "It's imprinted on the back of your head."
At this point, Hunter decided to just walk away, hoping the guards would simply fade into the swirl of the mind ring trip.
And that's what happened. But then the foreman was behind him again. This part of the program was persistent.
"Hey, wait a minute!" the foreman yelled at him. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"
Hunter turned around just as the foreman was pulling a huge ray gun from his belt.
"No ID, in an unauthorized area," the foreman was growling. "You're a security risk. Probably one of them angels in disguise, I'll bet."
Once again, Hunter just turned his back and tried to walk away, hoping the mind ring would absolve itself. But the foreman was suddenly right in front of him. And this time, he had his ray gun pointing directly between Hunter's eyes.
"Move again, and you're dust," the foreman told Hunter.
At that point, everything seemed to stand still. Hunter found himself studying the foreman's uniform. Black, shiny, with tiny double lightning bolts on the collar and on the sleeves. It was starting to look familiar….
Back in the future, there were two major branches of the Fourth Empire's military: the Space Forces, which were the Empire's far-flung Army, Navy, and Air Service, and the Inner Defense Forces, the Emperor's vast and murky personal army, which was charged with protecting the original Solar System from the Pluto Cloud in, but in reality could be found in just about every corner of the Galaxy. They were also known as the Solar Guards.
There were some very dark elements within the Solar Guards: Hunter knew this from personal experience as a hit team of Guardsmen had been dispatched from Earth to take him out just as he was leading the forces on Planet America to victory. It seemed crazy now — because the history books said the Solar Guards had only been in existence for only four hundred years or so — but this guy's uniform was starting to look like those worn by the SG.
Hunter just couldn't resist challenging him. "Who do you work for?" he asked the foreman directly. "Who's your boss?"
The foreman never replied. He just pulled his trigger. Hunter was able to dive away at the last moment; still, the blast hit him high on the left shoulder, throwing him back a good ten feet or more. He hit the ground hard, scattering those images around him. He knew in that instant that he was in big trouble. He could feel real pain in his shoulder; he was bleeding, too. This mind ring was corrupted beyond belief — and now the foreman was aiming his weapon again.
Hunter went up to one knee, his shoulder felt like it was on fire. He reached across to his side holster and instantly, his gun was out and pointing at the foreman's chest. But then Hunter hesitated. Did he really want to shoot this guy? What consequences would result? Though the foreman had just shot him, the man wasn't real. Not really real. If Hunter fired back at him, he might wind up blowing a hole right through the program.
But then the foreman fired again.
Hunter actually saw the stream of fire coming right at him. He dove off to his left. The blast of green fire went right over his head. The foreman took two giant steps forward and aimed once again. This time, Hunter didn't blink. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. The gun fizzled.
It was empty. Dead. Without a charge.
The foreman fired again. Two blasts. One hit Hunter's right arm, knocking the useless gun from his hand. The other ricocheted off his dopey helmet. He felt like someone had dropped an asteroid on his head. He literally saw stars swirling before his eyes.
The foreman aimed again. Hunter couldn't believe this was happening. He was now bleeding heavily, and it felt like life was just oozing out of him.
And this next blast would be a death blow___
But suddenly the foreman wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead, he was aiming at something — or somebody— over Hunter's right shoulder. An expression of complete shock had washed over the foreman's face.
Then came a bright flash of green light, and the foreman's head disappeared in a cloud of subatomic dust.
Everything went black after that.
"Hawk? Can you hear me?"
Hunter tried to open his eyes but couldn't. It was just too painful.
Where was he? He knew he was flat out on his back. A couple sharp rocks were poking him in the kidneys. And the smell of burnt fabric was filling his nostrils. The mind ring was no longer around his head; he knew that as well. But the taste of metal and blood was thick in his mouth.
He finally managed to open his eyes and discovered that he was back on top of the butte. Four faces were staring down at him: Tomm, Zarex, Erx, and Berx.