A warm breeze blew across the land, and the tall grasses moved rhythmically to the gentle sounds of an unknown melody. Since time began, it had danced to the same tune and covered the land with a golden glow that stretched to the distant horizon. It was a peaceful land. It had stood the ravages of the bitter winter winds that came from the north to cover the earth with a glistening blanket of snow. It had thrived in the scorching blaze of the summer sun until the cooling breezes of fall brought change. When the winter came again, it transformed the land into a world where only the strong could survive.

To the west, the land rose abruptly from the plains, giving way to the sagebrush and pinion that covered the foothills. With the gain of elevation, the slopes were covered with a wide diversity of flowers and plants that blanketed the hills with a kaleidoscope of color. Finally, the pine and spruce forests mantled the hills in a majestic display of mystery and intrigue as they rose to the heights where few plants could survive the blasts of the bitter winter winds. In the far distance, rock and snow covered the peaks of the high mountains, reigning over a world of beauty that was repeated in range after range of mountains stretching as far as the eye could see.

For thousands of years, the land had risen, driven by the powerful tectonic forces that thrust an underlying vein of coal to the surface. In those ancient days, the change in the land was slow. Millenniums passed by with little change. Year after year, the land was assaulted with winds and rains that wore down the banks of the streams until finally, small ledges of coal appeared in some of the canyons along the Front Range. These veins lay undisturbed until 1867 when William Jackson Palmer discovered the coal and recognized the value it would be to the railroads that were making their way west. It was his time to shine. He was not going to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity. Soon, a small canyon on the edge of the prairie was bustling with a mining operation that gave birth to the settlement of Ludlow. As the mines developed, the peace and serenity of the land gave way to the demands that the new industry placed upon it. Now, it was the mine operators that called the tune, forcing the people of the new town into a world of feudal lords and serfs.

Over the years, the situation worsened. Fueled by the greed and avarice of the mine owners, there was little hope that the situation would improve. Conditions in the mines became more dangerous until they became a prison that offered no escape. There was a constant danger of explosions from the ever-present coal dust and gas that filled the mines. Roof collapse was a constant threat to the miners, who were expected to timber the unstable rock at their own expense. Their pay came in the form of company script that could only be redeemed in the company stores.

For years, the unions had tried to get a toe hold in the mines, but all of their efforts were rejected by the mine owners. By 1913, the situation had become so unbearable the miners went on strike. The company's response was to hire "scab" labor to replace them. Those that went on strike were evicted from their company owned homes. With the help of the union, tent villages were set up. To keep an eye on the village, an armored car was built. Mounted with a search light and machine gun, it kept constant surveillance over the families that were now forced to endure this new invasion of privacy. This `Death Special' was soon patrolling the perimeters of the villages, shining the lights into the tents, and firing indiscriminately into the small colony. In desperation, the miners dug pits under the tent platforms where they could protect their families.

As the situation worsened, stronger measures were needed. Governor Ammons called in the National Guard to bring peace to the settlement. When one of the scabs was found murdered along the railroad tracks, the order was given to destroy the colony. The situation was ripe for disaster.

April 20, 1914

To the east of town, the prairie remained undisturbed. The tall grass and brush that was scattered across the land had remained untouched since the days the buffalo had roamed the land. It was a place of peace and seclusion that had escaped the developments of the mining operation.

Suddenly, a low whine broke the silence, causing the air to vibrate with a sound that rose to a high pitch. As the sound died away, the image of a strange machine began to appear. Quickly, the image stabilized several feet above the ground. Slowly, it settled quietly into the tall grass and was still. The strange machine seemed out of place in this pristine landscape. For a few minutes, it sat in silence as if it were a living thing studying its new surroundings. Finally, a large panel slid back and a man stepped out.

A tall man, he appeared to be in his early 50's with a full head of long white hair. His face was thin, with a strong jaw that spoke of a determination that could take on whatever lay before him. The eyes revealed a wisdom and gentleness that could only come from years of seeking the honorable path through life. The cracked leather jacket and faded Levis were old but adequate to cover his thin frame. The tennis shoes seemed out of place with the world he had entered.

The machine looked much like a large bath tub with large doughnut-shaped structures on each end. Between them was a seat divided by a consol that would accommodate two people. Protruding from it were several short levers with LED lights that indicated different positions. The instrument panel had an array of large digital displays and indicators. There was a computer monitor positioned in front of each seat that displayed maps of the surrounding landscape. Below the panel was a tiller bar that could steer the front wheel. Below that were notches that could be used to lock it in any position. The wheels appeared to have come from a car that would have been quite at home in the twenty first century.

For a moment, the man stood quietly surveying the land before him. At a distance, there was a small herd of antelope. Taking turns, they watched the new arrival but did not seem disturbed by his presence. Between the small hills, he spotted a building that appeared to be a railroad station. His eyes took in every detail of the land as he started toward it. A flock of prairie chickens flew up and glided a safe distance before they settled to earth. The man watched in silence but did not break stride as he neared the station. The boards of the platform clattered beneath his feet, waking the station agent from his nap.

"Train's running late today, Mister. They had a little trouble in Denver taking on water, but they made up most of the time they had lost. Where are you headed?"

"I don't need a ticket today. I have my own ride."

A puzzled look appeared on the man's face as he looked about for a horse. He cocked his head as he gave the man a quick appraisal. "Are you one of them fellers from the detective agency? You don't look like a miner to me."

Hans smiled. "Quite the contrary. I have come here to warn the people of the coming danger. Has there been any shooting today?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. The National Guard has been on the move, and I suspect there is something afoot. Why do you ask?"

"That's good news. It means I am not too late."

"Too late...