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The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival


about it, thought Ben, he looks better in person.
Ben suddenly remembered what the receptionist had told him, so, he started down on one knee. Being
subservient, especially to politicians, or so-called royalty, did not please Ben, however, what could he do except
follow protocol.
"Get up!" boomed a voice from across the room. It was the Galaef speaking. "We have no need nor time for
formality around here."
Ben slowly rose from his knee. He was thinking he was already starting to like this man—in spite of the fact
that he was a politician.
"My name is Taul Winler," he said. "I am the Galaef of the Galactic Empire." He paused a moment and
looked at the man on his right. "This is Thorne, my second-in-command, and behind him is his personal
secretary, Jordan."
Looking at Thorne he saw a man of seemingly good looks with a bearing of strength as of all the other men
he had seen in the building. He stood tall, at six foot three—only an inch shorter than the Galaef, and he had the
most perfect posture Ben had ever seen, the posture every mother dreams of.
The Galaef continued with the introductions. “And this is Mordrous.” He pointed at a man standing ten feet
in front and off to the left. “He is my chief security officer.” The man was six foot three, built like a bull, had
huge, muscular arms, and was extremely handsome.
Only the best, thought Ben. He knew this man was versed in all forms of weaponry and hand to hand
combat, and could probably kill you in an instant.
"And let me not forget my personal secretary." The Galaef motioned toward his immediate left. "This is
Myra."
Ben had heard about Myra even as he had heard other rumors about G-staff. And though he had seen the
Galaef on the viewer a few times, Myra was never in the news, because the Galaef didn't allow it. So, until
now, in Ben's mind, she had only been an unknown face, involved, but behind the scenes of Galactic politics.
As Ben looked in her direction he saw a tall woman sitting serenely in a form-fitting chair. She was
manipulating some type of recording device, using a keyboard, and watching a computer screen. She sat at an
angle, in accordance to the position of the computer, exposing mostly her profile. Her long hair was flowing in
waves of reddish gold and stopped about half way down her back. She was approximately five feet ten inches
tall. Her sensuous figure fit snugly into a white suit. She had a small nose and delicate lips. But as she turned
and looked at Ben, as if studying him, he noticed that her most striking feature was her eyes. It was like looking
into the eyes of a cat. When the light hit them at a certain angle they would glow like orbs with the light
penetrating through a translucent blue. Her eyes were vacant in expression, like a vacuum pulling upon the
world. Ben had never seen such eyes—ever.
"She is very beautiful. Isn't she Professor Hillar?"
Ben had heard that the Galaef knew just how beautiful, and he was quick to take advantage of it. He used
her in political bouts. He staged her beauty in front of planetary heads of state—it didn't matter if they were
men or women.
And rumor had it that the Galaef had used her magnetic presence at the great debates of Ar. The debates
were not going well. The planetary council wanted forty percent of the Zen I mining profits. To this they had
good claim, but the Galaef was proposing five percent and trying to make it seem reasonable. He wasn't able to
persuade them, and consequently the outcome looked like a hard fought battle with a final compromise of
twenty-five percent. It was then that his personal secretary entered the room. The five members of the council
seemed dazed. When the Galaef spoke they would be attentive, but somehow their eyes always wandered back
to Myra. At this time the Galaef began his tirade on the cost of supporting an empire. He talked about the
support of the star fleet, the cost of supporting the personnel and maintaining the equipment. The cost was
staggering. He spoke of the planet Galactus VII, the home of the Galactic Empire Headquarters. He spoke of
the giant complex of the computer system and the personnel needed to run it.
He went into great detail, being long winded, he left out no particulars. Finally the councilmen could do
nothing but agree.
The outcome was ten percent.
Indeed, Myra was a great asset to the Galaef's political reign. And Ben could understand why. It seemed she
possessed an unnatural magnetism, which altered a person's concentration and drew them unwittingly into her
spell. But the eyes . . . .
The Galaef turned and picked up a notebook. "After I read your proposal on the Aeolian myth, I wanted to
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