Hurd was an early riser and was known for getting to the office and starting work before the sun came up. And since he was there early, everyone was there early. If anyone showed up late, they would lose their job and would find themselves on the street begging for food. It was only right that a person put in an ‘honest day's work for an honest day's dollar,' (in this case a tal). Who wrote that? It seemed he had read it in a history book.
He walked through his secretary's outer office. "Good morning," she said as pleasantly as possible.
"Yes it is," he said as he walked on by. The door to his office slid open and there was Teddy Roosevelt looking down from behind his desk. He walked around and sat down. His most recent project of building an air force and acquiring two larger ships, probably G15's, was starting to take shape. This pleased him greatly. With the money he had acquired from the black market, selling Zen I crystals, he had purchased ten heavily armed air fighters and was now in the process of training pilots to fly them into combat.
But then he would have the problem of finding pilots or finding men to train as pilots for the destroyers.
It occurred to him Thorne could help get the pilots he needed from the Federation armada. After all Thorne was beholden to him for his help in taking the Galaefship and for putting Taul Winler in prison.
Mentally Hurd drooled. With the air force he was putting together he could easily take control and become absolute ruler of Ar. The other cities on Ar would be bowing down to his authority and paying the taxes he would demand. Soon he would have enough money to build his palace like the Galaef's palace on Galactus VII. He would build an elite army, which would give him the power to do away with the city council, then all would hail him as the supreme leader of Ar.
He knew things couldn't be better. He picked up the steaming cup of coffee from the top of his desk, took a sip, and leaned back in his chair thinking about the possibility of becoming the president of a Galactic Sector.
Just then a guard came rushing through the doorway.
Hurd looked up in anger. "How dare you interrupt me!"
"Sir," said the guard panting, "it's the rebels."
This got Hurd's attention, and he quickly forgot his anger. "What about the rebels?"
"They're attacking, sir."
"Attacking? You mean an all out attack against our forces?"
"Yes sir."
Hurd jumped up. "Call the scent room and tell them to release the scents, and tell them I'm on my way up. Then call the guard room and tell them to man the turret."
"Yes sir."
As he rushed past his secretary, he said, "Push the button. We're going on red alert. And this is not a drill!"
The red alert had been practiced a thousand times if not more. All the guards would go to their positions. The patrol craft with the mounted phasor cannons would be manned and sent into the enemy ranks, and the hidden turret on top of the tower would be brought on line with two men inside ready to fire on any flying craft attacking Hurd's tower.
Hurd hurried down the hallway toward the elevator. The scent room was three floors up, strategically located near the top of the building where it was difficult to fire on from opposing forces, but easy to release the scents. Once released from that height their plummet would reach an alarming speed before they tore into the adversary.
Hurd stepped into the elevator and punched the button. At last, he thought as the elevator started moving, the rebels have attacked. They must have been confident to finally reveal themselves, but he would crush them like a bug beneath his boot. He was ready and today was the day. And a good day it was.
Hurd entered the scent room with a smile on his face. He hurried down the aisle passing the scent racks as he went. He came to the last scent rack and turned left around the corner. Much to his chagrin the doors to the tower were still closed. The men were standing around waiting. To the right was the computer room, and again, the men were standing and waiting as if they had nothing to do. “What the hell is going on?” blurted Hurd.
The captain pointed at the autoviewer. "There's a G15 headed this way. If we open the doors they'll put a sonic bomb through the opening and the tower will become nothing but a little pile of powder.
Hurd was startled and puzzled by the news, then he became angry as he realized what had happened. "It must be one of the G15's from the prison." Now he understood why the rebels had started the attack.
Hurd smiled. "But we have a little surprise for them, don't we?"
"Yes sir," replied the captain.
"Is the turret manned?"
The captain put on a set of headphones and punched a number on the console. "Control room to turret," . . . , "Control room to turret," . . . , "Are you on line?" . . . , "Yes sir. We'll keep this line open."
"Well?" asked Hurd impatiently
"The turret is being manned by Em and Neb . . ."
"What?"
"I'm sorry sir. It just slipped out. We nick named them Em and Nebbie because they're always talking about saving the city from attacking rebels." In a pensive tone he continued, "The turret is being manned by Commander Tral and Corporeal Jymme, sir."
"Fine. Are they ready to fire?"
The captain was still listening with the headphones when a shocked look crossed his face. "What?" he yelled out. "Say that again."
"What is it?" asked Hurd in an anticipating, angry voice.
"Sir, they say they've just had a malfunction with the turret's computer. It won't respond to their commands."
"Damn," yelled Hurd. "Get our best tech up there, right now!"
The captain signaled to one of his men. "Get Turney up to the turret right away. And tell him to take his tools. They've had a malfunction with the computer."
"Yes, sir," said the man. He hurried away to the communications booth.
"Damn," said Hurd. "Of all times for the computer to break down. It had to be now!" Then he calmed down and smiled as he thought of something. "Fortunately we have another surprise for them."
"Sir?"
"The entire outside of the building is made of norimuinatit. Nothing can penetrate this building, not even a sonic bomb." Hurd became more serious. "Tell the turret not to remove the holoscape camouflage until the tech has fixed the problem, and they're ready and on line."
"Yes sir."
"Then to hell with the G15. As soon as we knock it down, the rebels will be like meat in a grinder."
Chapter Sixty-Five
The Aeolian Master Book One Revival Page 93