The Aeolian Master Book One Revival

by John Northern

  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 the run. If not, they choose the pits." He leaned back in his chair. "It makes no difference to me. Either way we get rid of a rebel."

  “The rebels, according to my reports, are increasing in number. It's been estimated that they've tripled since last year."

  Hurd’s mouth turned into a frown. "I have spies everywhere," he said. "I know all their plans before they've even finished working out the details."

  "Nevertheless," replied Thorne, "it would probably be beneficial to your cause and mine if you would tighten your hold. Perhaps step up your rate of arrests."

  Hurd glared at Thorne. "Believe me," he retorted, "we have the rebels under control. And if I ever need help you'll be the first to hear me yell."

  Thorne was sure he would.

  "How are the plans for the new air force progressing?" Thorne was wondering how much money, through black market crystals, he would have to donate to this new project.

  Hurd ignored his question and eyed him suspiciously. "It seems to me that there is something more important than the affairs of the city on your mind." He gave a nervous cough and cleared his throat.

  Thorne smiled, but not with happiness in mind. It was a fact that he had never visited Hurd in person. Their deals had always been made over the telecom or by way of couriers. He could tell Hurd was suspicious. He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and looked Hurd in the eye. This last statement by Hurd irritated him, as he wasn't quite ready to reveal his plan. First, he wanted to initiate a sense of need in Hurd. From this point he would maneuver Hurd into accepting his takeover.

  "You're too impatient, Hurd," said Thorne in a threatening tone. He stood up and walked over to the desk. "Someday that might be your downfall," he said as he leaned on the desk.

  Just then Hurd's bodyguard became alert. He shifted his stance and dropped his hand to the butt of his stunner.

  Thorne was aware of the guard's movements, but he remained calm and seemingly very still as he leaned closer toward Hurd.

  Hurd again started twirling his mustache. "I have to take care of some rebels later this week," he said. He signaled his bodyguard to relax. "And I have a council meeting in half an hour," he paused in contemplation. "But if you wish it, I can cancel all my afternoon business."

  "That won't be necessary. What I have to say won't take that long," said Thorne. He slipped the palm stunner back under the sleeve of his body suit.

  "What you have to say?" asked Hurd in mimicry.

  Thorne straightened up. "We need complete privacy," he said.

  "Yes, of course." Hurd made a gesture for his bodyguard to leave.

  "Now," said Thorne as the guard exited and the door slid shut, "for the past several years my men have been working on a plan that involves myself and the Federation. It also involves perfect timing." Thorne started pacing the El carpet and then stopped. "However, the plan will no longer work." A flash of irritation penetrated his expression. "The Galaef became so involved with that childish myth that he didn't even go home for the annual Federation reports." Thorne started calmly pacing again.

  "What is . . . or was your plan?" asked Hurd.

  "You fool," said Thorne quietly. And then a little louder, "My plan is to take over as the new Galaef of the Galactic Federation.

  Hurd became almost silent with stupefaction. "You're going to overthrow the Galaef?" he asked in a whisper. "That's not only impossible, it's unthinkable."

  "No it's not," said Thorne. "Not when I have some of the best minds in the galaxy working for me." He stopped in front of the desk and stared down at Hurd.

  "It must have been a good plan for such a high risk."

  "It was, but as I said the plan will no longer work." He smiled down at Hurd. "So it has been revised. You see, all the key personnel are in place. Now it's just a matter of location." He slowly lowered himself into a chair as he watched Hurd's face. He waited for the realization to set in.

  "I hope your plan works." He paused while twirling his mustache. "You'll be the new Galaef. I won't have to smuggle crystals anymore." The corners of his mouth turned up. "We'll both make . . . ." A look of terror suddenly dominated his face. He jumped up from behind the desk. "You're telling me because I'm part of the plan! Is that right?" He ran around the desk shaking with fright. "I'm part of the plan. Is that right?"

  "Relax Hurd. The plan won't fail. And as you were about to say we'll both be rich."

  "But I don't want to die a horrible death!" cried Hurd.

  "It won't fail," said Thorne in an irritated tone.

  "It's a horrible death," whined Hurd. "A horrible death."

  Thorne was amazed by Hurd's out pour of fear. "If you're so afraid, carry a suicide pill."

  Hurd calmed down a little. "Yeah," he gulped audibly. "I will." He leaned back against the desk and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I will," he said again. “That makes good sense.” It seemed that the idea presented by Thorne had made him feel a little easier about the situation. "Tell me about the plan," he said in a reluctant tone.

  Thorne rose from the chair. "There will be a meeting tomorrow at three o'clock in this office." Thorne glared at him. "Be here. And don't bring your body guard."

  Hurd walked around the desk and sat down. "Who else will be here?" he asked. There was a slight tremor in his voice.

  "The Galaef, myself, and Myra. Which means, if you haven't figured it out yet, the takeover is tomorrow."

  "But . . . "

  "There are lots of but's, and they've all been dealt with."

  "I don't understand how you can take over, even with the Galaef dead." For clarification of his question he added, "The Federation computers will never respond to your voice p
attern."

  "Taken care of," said Thorne. "Everything is taken care of." He knew that aboard the Commander he had the holder of the key.

  "If that's true, if all the details have been worked out . . . ." Hurd’s mouth turned into a greedy smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Five