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The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival


two more doors. Again, one with a panel of lights and buttons and the other without.
He stepped up to the one without, put his hand on the palm switch, as the door slid open he moved into the
stairwell.
The stairs seemed endless as he raced upward. This time he hoped he would come to the out, and then he
would find safety, a place to hide from the evil.
He climbed the stairs quickly thinking about his birth—the time when he became conscious of living in this
world. There were three voices, two that seemed friendly, and one that was insidiously hostile. What was this
world all about? He felt that he was suddenly born into a hostile environment with no help coming from those
who gave him birth.
A picture flashed into Em's mind. He saw the two guards lying on the floor, unconscious with blood
trickling from their noses. He felt bad. He didn't want to hurt anybody, but he had to get away, he had to find
freedom in this strange world. What difference could it make to any of these men if he left this world of metal
walls?
His mind leapt back into the present when the stairway came to an open landing. He rushed into full view of
two more men. In back of them he could see a door, probably the final door, the door to the outside. But these
guards had seen him, and he didn't have time to jump them.
One of the guards was quicker than the other. He drew his weapon and fired.
A bright blue beam hit Em full in the chest. The force of the beam hurtled him backward, causing him to roll
violently down the steps, his flesh hitting sharp corners. When he finally came to a stop, he was lying face
down with his head, chest and arms on the landing platform between the floors and his feet pointing up the
stairs. Blood was flowing from a deep cut on his forehead and dripping onto the metal beneath him. His
muscles were paralyzed, and he had no feeling in his arms and legs.
"Who or what the hell was that?" asked the guard who hadn't fired.
"I don't know, but you better get on the com and call it in."
"Right." The guard pulled out a communicator and started talking.
Em couldn’t see them, but he could hear them, and he heard one of the guards talking as if he were talking to
a machine—he could hear the guard’s voice, but he couldn’t hear an answer from anyone.
The other one walk to the top of the stairwell.
“Keep your phasor trained on him,” said the other guard as he walked over and joined the one at the top of
the stairwell.
“Why? He’s down in a state of stun, and he won’t be feeling anything for another six hours.”
“Right. Who do you think he is?”
"I don't know. Did you call it in?"
"Yeah, they said they'd send someone down."
Em almost lost consciousness but he concentrated on the voices. He could feel a tingling sensation in the
tips of his fingers. He was slowly regaining the use of his muscles. He tried moving his hand. It was difficult,
but he managed a slight wiggle.
The guards were still at the top of the stairwell when one of them said in an astonished voice, "Look, he
moved."
The other one sounded doubtful. "He couldn't have moved. I have my stunner set on quarter power."
"No, he moved," said the guard hurriedly. "I saw him move."
“Look,” said the other guard. "Quarter power, that's enough to bring down a Chaision Lion."
"I don't care. I saw him move."
"I don't see him moving now. Let's go down and pull him up to the hallway."
"Alright, but I saw him move."
"Not possible. Right now his whole body is paralyzed, and he's stunned out of his mind. I was stunned at
one eighth power once, and it was twelve hours before I started getting any feeling back."
The two guards each grabbed an ankle and began pulling him up the stairs. By now the blood had stopped
flowing from the cut in his forehead, and the feeling in his body had nearly returned to normal.
He waited for the right moment. He continued to play limp. His body felt the pain of the metal scraping his
skin as he was pulled up the steps. His ear caught on a sharp corner and started bleeding. The pain was intense,
but the time was not right. It was too chancy. If he moved too soon, another bolt of blue would send him
sprawling down the steps again.
The guards finally got him to the hallway. They let go of his legs. Then one of them bent down and grabbed
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