James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

Krysty pointed an accusing finger at him. “You seem a good man, Mashashige. Got some problems from the way you have to live. But it feels like your heart’s in the right place. You care some about your people.”

“I do. I do care.”

“Then open up this park.”

There was coil upon coil of razor wire all around the perimeter of the hunting land, which lay to the east of the fortress. There were white porcelain conductors every fifty yards, and death’s-head signs warning of high-voltage electric current powering through the lethal fence.

Mashashige stamped his bare foot in the dust. “I care much and I have plans that will give my people more land than they dream of in their in their dreams.”

“How?” Ryan asked, sensing that the shogun was about to spill some interesting beans.

But Hideyoshi touched his master on the arm, whispering something out of the corner of his mouth.

The shogun regained control of himself, biting his lip, nodding to his third-in-command. “Thanks to you,” he said quietly, “I had operated my mouth without first engaging the gears of my mind. Stupe of me.”

“Go on,” Ryan prompted, though he knew the moment had passed. “How you going to help your people get more land? Wouldn’t be by using the gateways, would it?”

“Of course it would not.” The mask was back in place again. “Now, let us get to hunting.”

THE HUNT WAS TO BE carried out on foot.

Ryan and all his companions had risen shortly after dawn and breakfasted on coffee sub and sugary doughnuts, served with bowls of cream laced with nutmeg and cinnamon.

“What kind animals we going to hunt?” Jak asked.

Yashimoto was sitting farther down the long table with three or four of the other samurai. He looked up at the albino teenager’s question.

“Since skydark there have not been many creatures left living alive here,” he replied. “We have farms in factories for chickens and cattle. Very intensive. Some fish in sea, but some have growths and cancers and warts and cysts and weeping ulcers all over their flesh.”

“We had noticed that all was not well with the denizens of Neptune’s deeps,” Doc said.

“So, if there’s this shortage of animals, what are we going to be hunting?” J.B. asked.

Yashimoto laughed. “It will not be a hunt like you have ever seen.”

IN ADDITION TO the samurai and the shogun, they were accompanied by eighteen of the older surviving sec men, all carrying both rifles and pistols.

The outlanders had their weapons with them, including the Armorer’s scattergun and Ryan’s Steyr rifle.

Mashashige was, as usual, barefoot and clad in the simple black kimono, carrying just the unornamented sword. His samurai had mostly elected to wear their full armor. It was a scorchingly hot day, and they had all chosen to leave their helmets behind.

Hideyoshi was wearing a red-and-white baseball cap tipped back on his head, which he handled as though it were a religious relic. It carried the slogan “San Francisco 49ersSuperbowl Champions 2000.”

They entered the hunting domain through a tall gate of barbed wire, guarded by half a dozen sec men. As soon as the hunting party was inside, the gate clanged shut.

“This is called Jurassic Park,” Mashashige said.

“Why?” Ryan asked.

The shogun hesitated. “I do not know, Cawdor-san. I think it was once a famous place in old America.” He looked at the rest of the foreigners. “Does any person know?”

Mildred put up a hand. “Movie,” she said.

“BE A HELP if we had some idea what kind of prey we’re after,” Ryan said.

Hideyoshi smiled his crooked smile. “You will see what you will see.”

“But are we looking in the trees or in the streams or the valleys? Big or little?”

The samurai patted him on the arm. “Yes to every of those. Up and down and around about.”

“We seek it here, we seek it there,” Doc intoned. “We seek our quarry everywhere. Is it in Heaven or is it in Hell, that demned elusive” His eyes narrowed and he scratched his head. “I fear that I have forgotten what it was that was so demned elusive.”