Now, this is strange, Hunter thought — and not just because of the dichotomy before him. Back on Earth, he'd been told the legend of a man living somewhere out in the Galaxy who could not die.
Someone who was hanging on to life without the benefit of Holy Blood, the fuel that kept the Fourth Empire going. But the story of the eternal man was just that: one of millions of tall tales that floated around the Milky Way like so much Stardust. Or so he had assumed. Could this be the man in that legend?
More important, was this the person Hunter was here to see?
He stepped into the room and realized there were two women sitting near the end of the bed, hidden behind the door. They were both wearing short white dresses and strange white caps on their heads.
They both had large, outrageous hairdos but were very pretty in other ways. They were both reading magazines and chewing gum.
Nurses, Hunter thought.
They barely looked up at him as he walked in.
The astronaut, on the other hand, acknowledged Hunter right away. He let out a long breath and moved up a bit on his pillows.
"Well, I see you made it through all of our security rings," he said, his voice sounding very mechanical coming from behind his helmet's front visor. Hunter could not see his eyes or face.
"Are you the one I'm supposed to talk to?" he asked him.
"I am," the astronaut replied confidently.
"How do I know for sure?" Hunter asked.
"Because we have a mutual friend," the astronaut replied. "Pater Tomm sent you — and he and I have been amigos for longer than I can tell you. We haven't seen each other in centuries, though. Is he well, I hope?"
"Last time I saw him, he was," Hunter replied.
The astronaut indicated that Hunter should sit in the chair next to the bed.
"It must be something very important for you to come here," he said. "And to go through what you did."
"I can't disagree with you there…"
"OK, then," the astronaut said. 'Tell me everything. Start at the beginning."
But Hunter hesitated. This was probably the guy Tomm wanted him to see. Either that, or he was a hell of an actor. And God only knew how he'd wound up here, in the old spacesuit, in a house right out of ancient America, ticking off the years like other people ticked off seconds. It must be a hell of a story, Hunter was sure. But there was a huge battle looming on the horizon. And the campaign to restore Earth and the Empire to its rightful owners was at stake, as were hundreds of thousands of lives. Weird planet or not, how could this man do him any good? And why should he tell him anything at all?
Then again, what other choice did he have? Here he was, stranded at the end of the Galaxy, with no way to get back to where he had to be. There was actually a good chance he'd be stuck out here forever. So why be coy now? Why not let it all out? And even if this was another test to gauge his ability to keep a secret, if he flunked it, at least something would happen. And something was always better than nothing.
So he told the ancient man his story. Waking up on Fools 6, being rescued and brought to Earth, winning the Earth Race, the search for Planet America, the invasion of the Two Arm. While he was speaking, one of the nurses retrieved an ancient martini shaker, mixed a huge potion of gin with a bright orange powder from a jar labeled Tang, and gave it to the astronaut, running a straw from the shaker under his helmet to his mouth.
Hunter concluded his tale with the most recent chapter, how he and the others had escaped to Paradise and then felt compelled to return to the other side again.
At the end of this part, the astronaut laughed.
"So you and your friends really think you were in Heaven?" he asked.
Hunter nodded, but with uncertainty. "You mean, we weren't?"
The astronaut sipped his Tang martini but did not reply. He changed the subject instead.
"I can see why Tomm sent you above others, Major Hunter," he said. "You've certainly lived an interesting life so far. After all these adventures, do you have any idea why you are here, in the seventy-third century? Have you figured it out yet?"
Hunter just shrugged. "Not completely."
"And why not?"
Hunter shrugged again. "I guess I've been busy with other things."
The astronaut laughed. So did the nurses.
"But don't you see?" the astronaut asked him. "Those 'other things' are exactly the reason you are here. I think it's fair enough for me to tell you that."
Hunter was puzzled, and it showed. "Please explain," he said.
The astronaut sat up a little. The other nurse adjusted his pillows.
"Well, let me guess: you've been too busy to think about yourself because you've been doing these 'other things,' like saving all the unfortunates of the Milky Way?"
"Well, trying to," Hunter replied. "I mean, it's been a full-time job."
The astronaut laughed again. "I'm sure it is, and that's precisely why you are here. You weren't just dropped out of the sky, out of time, for no reason, or as a fluke, my friend. This was no small thing, your coming to the seventy-third century. It took very powerful forces on many astral planes to pull off such a feat. It might have seemed like a random event, and it was intended that way. But don't disparage it as such. Nothing is random in this universe, and certainly not in this little speck of a Galaxy."
The astronaut raised his primary visor and, for the first time, Hunter could see his eyes. They looked old but they were twinkling. And Hunter could tell he was smiling.
"Simply put, you are a savior, Major Hunter," he said. "One of several chosen over the ages. You are here to save us. Save us all — from them. From evil. From tyranny. From the Fourth Empire. Hell, when they write the book on this, it might be titled Hawk Hunter Saves the Universel Hunter just stared back at him. Was he kidding? On one hand, the ancient man seemed so cool, so calm. And so American. And he really gave the impression that he knew what he was talking about — and that in a strange way, he couldn't be wrong. About anything. But on the other hand, there was no getting around it. He was an old guy in an old astronaut suit. He could be a maccus, a clown, for all Hunter knew.
"But how do you know this?" Hunter finally asked him. "How would you know that I was brought here to do these things?"
The smile left the astronaut's eyes. He was quiet for a long time.
"Because," he said finally, "Five thousand years ago, I was brought here for the same reason."
A long silence. The nurses were paying close attention to the conversation now.
The astronaut sipped his drink.
"And I will let you in on my whole story some other time," he said. "But at the moment, the reason you came here is more important. So, tell me again about this REF. There's something that really frightens me about them."
Hunter did as asked. He explained how at the height of the battle that never was, the United Planets fleet managed to disappear, only to find out that shortly afterward, the REF had disappeared as well.
Later on, the REF ships began showing up again, now painted red and apparently operating with little regard for SG headquarters or the Imperial Court back on Earth. Judging by their actions, their desire to create havoc and commit the utmost in cruelty seemed apparent.
The astronaut listened intently, becoming visibly upset when he heard further details about the REF's actions on Doomsday 212 following Bonz's murder. He slumped farther into his pillows, pushing the drink away from him. The nurses were becoming uneasy, too. They didn't like seeing him this way.