The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival HTML version

Galactic Games. Damn, she's not going to believe me when I tell her. She's absolutely not going to believe it."
He paused in thought, and then said, "But when she does, I think we can help you get through this hellish
ordeal. The least we can do is to get you light duty. So, you just stay safe, okay?"
"Sure," said Ben. He was beginning to see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
"By the way, my name is corporeal Jobbe.”
“It’s good to meet you,” said Ben.
“Indeed,” said the corporeal. “Now, you go back to your cell, and I'll be getting together with you in a day
or two." The guard turned and walked toward the entrance of the cross-over tube.
Lieutenant Sharpie looked down the long dining room table at the merrymakers—drinking, eating, singing,
talking, and basically making a lot of noise. She reached out with her fork, stabbed another toral steak, and
plopped it on her plate. As she cut into it with a knife she looked across the table at her friend and long time
lover, Curt, the Captain of the Guard, and winked at him.
He winked back and gave her that look like ‘what are we doing after the party?’
She wasn't sure she was in the mood. So she smiled back and took a bite of her toral steak.
She didn't care too much for the warden and didn't know anyone who did, including Curt, Captain of the
Guard. Maybe Roqford liked him. The warden was always doting on him, giving him everything he wanted.
Even now as Roqford lay in the front left corner of the room there was a platter of toral steaks and potatoes in
front of him.
But if Roqford liked the warden there was never any indication of it.
The warden had taken over the prison pit when it first started under the direction of Hurd. And over the
years, being naturally paranoid, he was continually reading the records of the prisoners, looking for anything
which might indicate that a particular prisoner had the astuteness for escape or for organizing a riot. "He has
every room of every building on the compound and even those in the Employee City bugged," Curt had once
confided in Sharpie. They were standing in the middle of the prison yard where there were no bugs. "He
probably gets his kicks by listening in when we're making love."
The warden's light blond hair was mostly gone except around the ears. He was short at about five-nine and
was carrying about two hundred sixty pounds. Around his stomach, which bulged through his body suit, was a
wide leather belt with a holster and phasor on the right and a holster and phasor on the left.
Sharpie didn't care if he had all the rooms bugged, but if he was listening in while she was making love, that
was disgusting not to mention an invasion of privacy. She didn't think he would do such a thing, especially
since he was more interested in the prisoners, but the idea was still revolting.
No, it was a fact. She didn't like the warden.
She picked up the platter of greens and spooned a couple of heapings on her dish. She set the platter on the
table, and then held up her glass. A servant rushed over and filled it to the brim with wine. As she took a drink
she looked around at the room. She liked the wood look, the long wooden table capable of seating thirty, the
wooden floor covered with toral skins, and even the walls made of finished wood slats. On the interior wall
hung a painting of the warden and to the other side were large bay windows overlooking the lights from the
spaceport in the distance.
Along the sides of the table sat the assistant warden, the other lieutenants, nineteen in all and even a few of
the sergeants all dressed in their finest guard uniforms. It was a fact. She did like the warden's parties.
The warden raised his goblet, "Cheers, and to the good life," he said jubilantly.
The officers and the sergeants raised their glasses and echoed the warden's toast. "Cheers," they said and
gulped at their imported wine. By the end of the night the wine would have them feeling good; except the
Captain, who seldom drank, and Roqford.
The servants, under the direction of Jacob, the head servant, continued to bring in large platters of food, but
the warden noticed they were getting low on wine. "More wine!" he yelled. It made him angry when the
servants weren't paying attention to their duties.
A moment later a servant rushed in with a large silver platter of silver pitchers, set it on an empty corner of
the table, and started pouring wine.