The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival
Viella looked distressed. “They're only saying that because they don’t want people to know one of their
experimental machines has escaped.”
The old man gave her a funny look, but didn’t say anything. He walked her to the side of the house where a
guard grabbed her and bound her arms behind her back with a magnetic coupling lock. He motioned to one of
the other guards. "Put her in the cruiser," he ordered.
At that moment the android stepped through the doorway.
Viella expected him to go into a crouch at any moment making ready for the attack. But this time it would
do no good. She knew that the odds were too great, they were probably armed with magnetic android guns, and
he would be shot down in stride.
It was much to her relief that he didn't go into the crouch; instead he seemed to accept the fact that there
would be nothing now, but capture. He stood waiting for whatever would happen next.
Two guards moved cautiously toward him. One was carrying two sets of magnetic coupling locks. The
other was carrying a gun, posed for firing at any second.
As the guard put the locks in place, Viella noticed that they were made of a metal with a blue-green sheen.
She knew it was the strongest molecularly forged metal in the Universe. No man would ever be able to force
his way out of these.
As she was being led toward the cruiser it occurred to her that she still didn't know what they called this
android, probably something like, Xtx-2—she was sure it wasn't ‘M.’ "What do they call him," she asked.
"The man you just captured."
The guard, in a serious military manner, marching straight ahead and not looking at the prisoner, informed
her that he was called 'Em.' "It's short for 'Aeolian Master,'" he said.
Viella' didn’t believe the man. She knew the myth, and she knew no such thing nor person could exist.
Thorne seated himself comfortably into the form-fitting chair, letting his feet rest easily on the floor. His
eyes moved methodically back and forth taking in all the aspects of the room. He noted the finery and
eloquence which had gone into the interior decoration, the El carpet on the floor, the fine furniture, most of it
imported, the translucent walls—illuminating the room and giving it that sense of spaciousness, the original
Gek paintings, the large monitoring screens and the dual computer readout screens. In the slowly curving
corner sat a wabaw plant, shipped from half way across the galaxy. Its tantalizing aroma awakened the
olfactory senses into a depth of new perception.
"It's good to see you surrounded by comfort," said Thorne.
Across from him, and on the other side of a large oval desk, sat Hurd, the number one councilor of the
Newusa City council. Behind him and higher up on the wall was an original (probably the only one in
existence) oil painting of the ancient Earth President of the United States, Teddy Roosevelt. The first time
Thorne had seen this painting, when talking to Hurd on the viewer, he had asked about it, and Hurd explained
who he was and then commented that, "This president never took any crap from his political adversaries, and
when he was in battle he would charge full force into the enemy lines."
"How are things going in the city?" Thorne asked as he glanced at Hurd's bodyguard standing to the left and
next to the wall. He looked back at Hurd and waited for an answer. It wasn't just a trite question to start the
conversation. Thorne had an interest in the city, especially since some of it, including the tower, had been built
with his donations.
There was a pondering expression on Hurd’s face, as if he was wondering what Thorne was doing here and
what he really wanted. "The new stadium, for the run, was just completed a month ago." A smile crossed his
lips and his eyes gleamed a little. "The rebels caused a few set backs in the building of it, but we have our way
of dealing with them."
"Yes, I know," said Thorne. He gave Hurd's comment a cursory smile.
Hurd had been a second rate councilman before Thorne started making contributions toward his cause. Now
he was the ruler of Newusa with the power to do virtually anything he so desired.
“We give them a choice," continued Hurd. "The run or the pits. If they want to make it quick they choose