The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival HTML version

"Eolia Masteet?" asked the man as he turned and recognized the Aeolian Master. There was a look of
wonder on his face. "How is it I can see a dead man who has come to life? Is that really you?"
The Aeolian Master started to disappear.
"Wait!" yelled the man. "It's urgent that I talk to you . . . . Did you find it? It’s imperative. We must have
Em faded away.
o o o o o
Viella suddenly realized that the stranger was no longer standing beside her. She looked for him and saw
that he had crouched behind one of the counters. In the darkness she could see a strange glow coming from his
face, and then she realized it was his eyes. His muscles bulged through the body suit.
She saw him turn in his hunched-over position and stalk around the corner. He was moving down the side
aisle toward the patrollers.
A shudder traversed her body so vigorously she had to put a hand on the counter to steady herself. She
realized in her anguish that there was no hope for either of them. She admired his strength and bravado. He
seemed to have great courage when it was time to face danger, but the task before him was impossible, and she
knew it.
She squatted down until her head was out of sight of the men. She hoped they hadn't seen her. She peered
around the corner. What could she do to help the stranger? There wasn't anything nearby she could use for a
weapon. She wasn't strong enough for a man to woman combat. And her training in martial arts had only
begun a short while before in the secret halls of the underground. In essence there was nothing she could do but
watch. Or maybe I can distract them, she thought. She looked over the counter at them.
Just then one of the patrollers stepped forward and pulled an instrument from his belt.
A flesh detector, thought Viella.
The patroller had his head bent, concentrating as little lights flashed on the face of the instrument. For a
patroller he was of average height, but his shoulders were massive and his chest bulged beneath his uniform.
Around his waste was strapped a thick, black belt. Various instruments protruded from attached casings. On
his feet, instead of the usual footpads of the body suit, he wore large leather boots
Probably very good at all forms of combat. Hurd picked only the best for his police force.
He continued to study the instrument, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he located the two of them.
Then there would be much time to think about her mistakes on the way to the pits.
The patroller looked up and pointed in her direction. He had located the perpetrator. He looked again at the
instrument to double check. Abruptly his expression changed quickly from one of authority to one of surprise.
He looked to the left and grabbed for his weapon, but before he had a chance to draw and fire a man came
flying out of the dark, landing on top of him and the other patroller. The three of them crashed to the floor with
arms and legs flailing in all directions. One of the patrollers received a blow directly to the face from the
stranger’s fist. The patroller’s nose made a crunching noise from the blow and his front teeth were pushed back
rendering him unconscious before he was able to rise from the floor.
The stranger jumped up and lifted the other patroller into the air, and hurled him forty feet across the room.
When he landed, fortunately for him, it was in a pile of sample fabrics. The wind was knocked out of him, and
he lay gasping audibly for breath.
Viella rushed toward the stranger. She was stunned by his speed and strength, and how did he catapult
himself through the air like that. But this wasn't the time to stop and think about it, or to try to figure it out.
Her flesh pattern would now be on record with the central computer. There was only one thing left to do and
that was to escape from the city. The stranger would have to go with her. She bent over and picked up the
fallen phasor and the flesh detector, which was lying a few feet away, then she ran to the shelves where the
gloves were stocked and grabbed a pair for the stranger, then she ran to the back of the store where she had seen
the coats. If they were to escape into the plains, the stranger would have to have some protection against the
cold, night air. Unfortunately these weren’t the coats used to survive extended lengths of time in the harsh
plains of Ar, however they would have to do. She took the stranger by the hand and led him outside toward the
patrollers' flyer, which was hovering in front of the store. She opened the door for the stranger, and after he had
gotten in she rushed around to the driver's side, opened the door, and jumped in.
The hum of the engine increased as she stepped on the accelerator. It started forward, and she flew the craft