The gyroplane’s arrival roused all the slaves. Raising their heads above the edges of their dimple beds, they watched the aircraft’s doors open and three troopers step out.
“Is Dr. Huth here?” one of the new arrivals shouted. “Is Dr. Huth still alive? He’s been summoned back to the main camp.”
A tall, lanky man sitting on the other side of the compound jumped to his feet. “Here!” he cried. “Here I am!” With that, he hurried across the flat land, towards the troopers.
“What the blazes?” Doc said, scrambling to his feet. “The man’s a doctor?”
People began to boo and curse and shake their fists at the frantically running man.
A slave standing near Doc said, “He’s not a medic. He’s a stinking whitecoat. He’s the bastard who brought all these black suited fuckers over here.” The slave bent, grabbed a stickie head by the chin and mouth and lobbed it in Huth’s direction. “Bastard!” he cried.
Several others launched similar missiles, which landed with dull smacks on the glass.
Ryan picked up an ax from the ground and in a blur of arm motion, sent it spinning over the compound. His lead was right on target; the arc of the throw was a bit high, though. The tool cleared Huth’s head by about a foot and skittered across the glass. Seeing the merit in what Ryan had done, and the fact that the guards had exacted no penalty for the attempted murder, other slaves looked to their tools, as well. As the whitecoat zigzagged toward the gyroplane, he dodged a veritable rain of hurled pickaxes.
Covering his head with his arms, Huth moved behind the protection of the troopers battlesuits. The armor deflected the barrage of tools; it provided an invisible shield that sent the projectiles veering off at steep angles. When the troopers raised their laser rifles to fire on the mob, the downpour of axes stopped.
“Ryan, I am at a loss here. I thought the man was just another slave. What is going on?” Doc said.
“I know Huth,” the one-eyed man said. “I met him in the other reality. He was the director of the Totality Concept on the alternate Earth. He developed the trans-reality technology for FIVE and set up the first expeditionary force led by Colonel Gabhart. How he ended up at Ground Zero on this Earth is anybody’s guess.”
“Maybe he’s just lucky?” J.B. said.
Doc turned to Jak and said, “It would appear my initial induction concerning his education was correct after all. The man has obviously earned advanced degrees.”
“Told you,” the albino said. “Bad smell.”
“If not that, a sorry state of affairs to be sure. We should never have saved the miserable wretch. I can only blame myself for that. You were right, my dear Jack. We should’ve left him there to feed the rats, then his existence might have served some greater ecological good.”
Jak grunted in agreement.
It soon became apparent that the new batch of troopers hadn’t completed their mission at Ground Zero. After securing Huth in the gyro, they joined the mine guards and marched with them in formation, pulse rifles at the ready, driving a wedge into the milling slaves. It wasn’t clear until the last moment what their intentions were. At a silent signal, they charged into the mob, using their rifle butts to club back those who didn’t move out of the way fast enough. They beat a path straight toward Ryan and the others.
At a shout from Ryan, the companions pulled together into a defensive hand-to-hand formation. J.B., Ryan, and Jak took the front, Mildred and Krysty guarded the sides and Doc and Dean covered the rear. All of them stood back to back.
“Use your axes to deflect their gun butts,” Ryan said as the troopers bore down on them.
The battlesuited soldiers split ranks around the point of contact, surrounding the companions. When they attacked, they did so all at once.
Ryan dodged a rifle butt to the face, then used the curved point of his ax to hook the weapon’s trigger guard. He gave a mighty jerk and pulled the rifle out of the startled trooper’s hands. The trooper just stood there, watching as it sailed off over Ryan’s head. Instinctively, the one-eyed man fired a roundhouse left punch into the side of his helmet.