Suddenly he drew the tanglegun and sprayed our legs again. We toppled heavily to the floor. I looked up angrily.
"I imagine you want to know the whole story," he said. "The others did, too."
Valerie looked at me anxiously. Her pretty face was a dead white behind her oxymask. "What others?"
"I never bothered to find out their names," Ledman said casually. "They were other Geigs I caught unawares, like you, out on the desert. That's the only sport I have left—Geig-hunting. Look out there."
He gestured through the translucent skin of the Dome, and I felt sick. There was a little heap of bones lying there, looking oddly bright against the redness of the sands. They were the dried, parched skeletons of Earthmen. Bits of cloth and plastic, once oxymasks and suits, still clung to them.
Suddenly I remembered. There had been a pattern there all the time. We didn't much talk about it; we chalked it off as occupational hazards. There had been a pattern of disappearances on the desert. I could think of six, eight names now. None of them had been particularly close friends. You don't get time to make close friends out here. But we'd vowed it wouldn't happen to us.
It had.
"You've been hunting Geigs?" I asked. "Why? What've they ever done to you?"
He smiled, as calmly as if I'd just praised his house-keeping. "Because I hate you," he said blandly. "I intend to wipe every last one of you out, one by one."