The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival HTML version
he had spent with her, going out on the town, he had found her to be a vibrant, wonderful woman. She was
outgoing with a touch-of-class. She had warmth and generosity, and people liked her. She had lots of friends—
almost to the point of annoyance. Everywhere they went, to dinner or even walking along the sidewalk, people
stopped to talk to her. It was almost impossible to have a conversation without being interrupted, and the only
time they could truly be together, one on one, was when they were alone in her apartment.
The funny thing was, Ben didn't want to get involved with anyone at this time in his life, anyway. He had
his swording, which took up a lot of his time, and then there was his research, and now an expedition to Ar. If
they found a computer complex, it would take several years of researching, cataloging and documenting in
order to create a history from the archeological discoveries. And then there was . . . It seemed there was always
something, which kept him from getting involved with a woman. When he was in school, while his friends
were out finding romance, he was practicing on the swording mats. And when he went to the Cyton School of
Higher Learning he spent most of his time studying for his PhD in archaehistory, and at the same time he was
preparing for the Galactic Games. His romantic life got off to a slow start, which was the reason for his shyness
around women. Oh sure, he was confident on the swording mat, or in the classroom, or around people in
general, but when it came to one particular woman with whom there was a possible relationship, he always
backed off a little, waiting to see if there would be anything more than just a friendship.
A casual relationship was convenient, and that was all he had ever had with a woman. His fame as a
swordsman had brought a lot of women into his life, but he had never met one with whom he thought he could
have a permanent relationship.
He had only known her for a few days, but there was something about Lyil, which made him think, for the
first time in his life, he had met someone with whom he could be serious. It occurred to him, you can’t always
determine why you’re attracted to someone, but with Lyil it could have been because she had a quality, which
most beautiful women didn’t have. She had heart. She had a genuine concern for the needs of other people.
She had . . . .
He decided he liked her for many reasons, but it didn’t matter. She made it clear that she didn't want a
romantic relationship with him.
During another time or place he may have tried to overcome her indifference toward him, and to get her to
view him in a romantic light, however, as it was, with everything that was going on, . . .
Ben looked around the room. By his standards not only was the location of the apartment, with its bay
window overlooking the Galaef's grand park, well chosen, but also the construction of the building was,
especially the walls with a hue of three-dimensional radiation, most pleasing to look upon. On his professor's
salary he would never be able to afford such an apartment.
Lyil had done a great job of choosing furniture and decorating—a talent in which Ben was severely lacking.
In the middle of the spacious living room there were two form-fitting chairs, one in which he was sitting, and
both of which faced opposite a form-fitting couch. Recessed into the wall, with easy viewing from the couch,
was a very expensive, dual capability viewer screen (it could be used for entertainment or for contacting another
party). There was also a wet bar, a soft pile carpet, and various pieces of artwork which sat on small tables or
hung on the walls. The room was lighted with several adjustable vitalites, which were on stands in different
corners and with one hanging from the ceiling.
Ben hadn't seen any of the other rooms, but considering what he had seen here, he was sure they were just as
Lyil unstrapped her phasor and set it on a small table. "I'm sorry about this," she said, indicating the weapon.
"It's in my job description. I have to wear it at all times," she paused, "except in my home, and even then the
rules of the job recommend we keep it close at hand."
He looked at the phasor. "It doesn't bother me," he said. "Actually, for some reason, which I hope isn't
twisted, I kind of like it." He admired a woman with authority, a woman with confidence, a woman who wasn't
afraid to move forward with the moment. Maybe her gun personified this in his subconscious mind.
Lyil smiled. She walked over to the wet bar. "Same as before?" She guessed his answer and poured a non-
alcoholic drink into a glass and then she poured herself one.
"That'll be fine," he answered.
She handed him the drink and sat down on the couch across from him. Using an oblong object she swirled
the drink in her glass. "Rumor has it, if they find what you're looking for, you'll be leaving in about four