Inside was Hunter's spacecraft.
He nearly passed out. It didn't seem possible. But here it was, not only fixed but looking better than ever. The paint job alone was superb. The ship was now bright white, with bright red and blue stripes and a scattering of white stars here and there. It was dazzling.
Hunter staggered forward, numbly climbing the access ladder that had been placed up against the open canopy. The interior of the cockpit was completely repaired; even his seat was refurbished.
Everything looked die same as before, only newer and better.
He reached in and pushed his flight control panel to Me. He was soon looking at a diagnostics holograph of his power pack, the mysterious combination of Time Shifter components that he'd had put together so long ago on Fools 6—it was the reason the F-Machine could go as fast as it did. The power system looked as new as everything else on the craft.
He turned back to the mechanic, who was waiting at the bottom of the ladder.
"How?" was all Hunter could think to ask him.
The old guy just shrugged and chomped down on his cigar again.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been working on these things?" he asked Hunter. "Believe me, I've seen some wrecks in my day. But this one was a peach."
Hunter slid back down the ladder and shook the man's dirty hand. He was so ecstatic, he was missing the big picture — at least for the moment.
But then it dawned on him. "What's the catch?" he asked the mechanic.
The old guy just shuffled his feet. "No catch," he said. "Consider it a favor."
"For a favor in return, you mean?" Hunter asked.
The old guy walked him back outside. "Let's just say I'm a curious guy," he said.
"About what exactly?"
"Who are you here to see?" the old guy asked him, suddenly dropping the aw-shucks act.
Hunter just shrugged. "I don't know," he replied truthfully.
The old guy nodded. "OK, that was a tough one," he said. "Why not just tell me why you came here?"
Hunter hesitated, but only for a second. "I was told not to talk about that," he said finally.
The old guy just shrugged again. "OK by me," he said. "After all, I just work here."
With that, he closed the hangar door and began to walk away.
Hunter stopped him.
"Wait a minute," he said. "What about my airplane?"
The old guy just looked at him and shrugged.
"What airplane?" he asked.
He disappeared around the corner of the building. Hunter walked over to the big door and slid it open.
The hangar was empty.
The old guy had vanished as well.
Though Hunter searched all around the barn for him, he was nowhere to be found. He searched inside the hangar, too. But there was absolutely no evidence to indicate his aircraft was ever there.
With little else to do, he walked back down the dusty path to the main road. Here, he found another vehicle waiting for him.
It was a sports car. It was painted deep blue and had flame decals plastered all over it. Hunter had seen a similar vehicle back on Planet America — and probably many times in his previous lives.
It was called a Corvette.
Another young kid was behind the wheel. He was about the same age as the limo driver, but he was not so dressed up. And his hair was as greasy as the mechanic's rag.
"Need a ride, mister?" he asked Hunter.
Hunter looked in all directions. There was nothing out here by the dunes and the road.
"I guess I do," he finally replied.
Seconds later, they were screaming down the winding, hilly road. Hunter was holding on for his life as the young kid wordlessly went through all five gears in about as many seconds. Hunter hadn't experienced these kind of g-forces when he was dashing across the Galaxy. And he wasn't sure, but he didn't think these Corvettes came equipped with ejection seats. He was glad he was still wearing his crash helmet.
It turned out to be a short but very fast ride. They soon found themselves driving through a more wooded area, leaving the dunes and sand behind. The temperature changed rapidly; suddenly it was cool and raw, with some mist in the air. They began climbing a hill. Hunter would have thought a downshift was in order, but his tight-lipped driver did not concur. They went right over the top of the hill, all four wheels leaving the pavement before slamming back down again.
Around one more bend, and then the kid stood on the brakes. The car came to a screaming halt.
When the dust and rubber vapor cleared, Hunter found himself looking up a steep hill. At the top was a ramshackle house with a distinct lean to the left.
Hunter looked over at the driver, who just looked back at him. It was obvious this was the end of the line.
"Keep in touch," Hunter said, climbing out of the car.
He walked up the hill toward the house. It looked more familiar to him with every step. He reached the porch to find an elderly woman coming out the front door. Hunter stopped in his tracks. She not only looked familiar, she looked like him — that is, there seemed to be a strong family resemblance.
"We've been waiting for you, Hawk!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. There was a familiar scent of chocolate and flour on her hands.
Before he could say a word, an elderly gentleman came out onto the porch as well. The man had tears in his eyes. He could have passed as Hunter himself, if Hunter was about three times his present age.
He embraced Hunter in a bear hug.
"Great to see you again, Hawk," he said.
Hunter pulled away from him.
"Who are you people?" he asked, not really sure he wanted to know.
They both laughed sweetly, but they completely avoided the question.
"Come with me," the man said instead. "I want to show you something."
Hunter followed him into the house, walked across the ancient-looking living room and into the kitchen. The man moved a false panel on the other side of the kitchen cupboard. Behind it was an elevator. It looked very cramped, and there was no light inside. Just a dull red glow from the elevator controls. The man indicated Hunter should climb in, and he did.
They rode the lift down together, not talking, Hunter barely breathing. The elevator moved very slowly and took a long time to reach its stopping point. When the door finally opened, they stepped out into an underground chamber. There was a guard post outside a huge door, but it was unmanned at the moment.
The man opened this huge door by hand, and they walked down a long corridor. Hunter imagined that they must be at least a mile underground. They reached another thick steel door. The man punched in some kind of code, and the door opened with a great whoosh.
Beyond was a blue-hued chamber that looked like something from a viz-screen movie set. All crackling pipes and wires and machines and test tubes, it was a madman's vision of a laboratory. The man directed Hunter inside, and they walked past many electrical devices, gizmos, and doodads. They reached another massive door. Another code, another twist of the lock, and now they were inside a very small vestibule and facing yet another door. They both stepped inside, and the man locked them in.
Hunter looked around the small metal chamber and saw some strange things. There were straps fastened securely to the sides of the walls. Why would they be here? he thought. What could their purpose be? There was also an ordinary bucket filled to the brim with rocks.
Rocks? Why?
But even odder, in one corner of the vault was a box of parachutes.
Parachutes?
The man strapped Hunter into one of the harnesses and then did the same to himself. Then he punched another code into the lock of this fourth door. The lock spun and clicked and then sprang open.