The Aeolian Master Book One Revival

by John Northern

  It was difficult trudging along the sandy bottom of the gorge, especially with the cold penetrating through the light jacket and with the earlier tiring, gut wrenching, energy draining events of the night—pumping adrenaline through the arteries when running from the patrollers—fighting—fighting, running and now pushing through the sand, on toward their goal, on to the mountain people. Viella was exhausted as she and the stranger finally came to the base of the mountain. The gorge started at an incline narrowing as it progressed upward until about a half mile up the mountain it became a long rockslide.

  One look and she knew they couldn’t go that way, so she climbed out of the gorge, hands and feet on loose rocks, and made for a group of trees a hundred paces ahead. They had made it across the Toral Plains an hour and a half before sunrise, but it was still another forty miles until she came to Everette’s village, and she knew she couldn’t go on without rest and sleep.

  After drinking the cold, refreshing water at one of the toral springs she found an outcropping of rock, which would hide her from the searching eyes above, and as she lay wearily beneath it, her last thoughts were of wonderment of the stranger, then she fell asleep.

  An hour later she awoke with a start, not because she felt refreshed, which she certainly didn’t, but because there was something in the back of her mind telling her it was time to get up and move on.

  In half an hour the sun would rise over the far horizon, but for now it was still semi-dark with the moons shedding a little light on the surrounding environment. She looked at the stranger who was sitting twenty paces from her. "I wish they would have given you a voice and the ability to talk," she whispered as if she didn’t want the patrollers or the toral to hear her.

  She bent down and scooped up a handful of water, watching the moonlight shimmer off the surface of the small pond. She lifted the water to her lips. In all directions the beams glimmered away. "I guess I'll have to decide what to do next," she sighed wishing she had someone to talk to.

  The stranger sat on the rock near the pond staring at her and said nothing.

  "I didn’t think you would object," she continued, "In that case, I think we had better begin our journey up the mountain. When we get far enough from the toral to be safe, we'll find a place to hide then we’ll get some more sleep before we travel on. Near the end of the day we should be able to find one of the villages of the mountain people, and from them we’ll get directions to Everette’s village."

  She took him by the hand, and they began their way up the gradual incline. Climbing, at first, was easy, but as they progressed, the incline became steeper and the climbing became more difficult. Viella and the stranger, at times, had to look for a way around large boulders, which seemed to sit vicariously on the side of the mountain waiting for a small quake to send them hurtling down the slides and onto the plains. The light of the moons was nearly gone making it more difficult to climb. The smaller moon had already set behind the Eastern horizon and the larger one was disappearing behind the taller peaks.

  It wasn't long, however, until the sun sent its dim rays across the tops of the mountains, lighting the way for the weary traveler. After awhile they stopped, and she slept for a couple of hours under a lone tree which had sprouted from the jagged landscape, then she rose, and they continued the climb.

  Viella looked up the mountain and stopped for a moment. "We have a long way to go," she said. She didn't expect an answer. "The mountain people live as far from the plains as possible."

  She brushed her hair out of her face and wiped her forehead. She was beginning to feel the strain of the past fourteen hours. As a city girl whose exercise time had always been limited, she was climbing a mountain where the air was becoming thinner and colder with every step. And, at the very least, she was on her way to a rugged life with the mountain people. She would probably never see her family again.

  I hope my part will contribute something to the cause, she thought. Then she tried to figure out what her contribution had been. Nothing, since the underground would never got the firearms, which her and her brother were supposed to hide in a secret chamber. Her perilous journey of the night had been all for naught.

  She shook her head in disgust, then took the android, at least she thought he was an android, by the hand and they began to climb. (It confused her that he had drunk water at the pond).

  They climbed for several hours until they came over a small rise and onto a rocky plateau. Viella stopped. In front of them, not more than a hundred yards, was a small wooden shack. Smoke spiraled into the sky from a tin-pipe chimney.

  What is this? she wondered in mild surprise. She hadn't expected to find any mountain people this far down the mountain. She was told, and in a proud way, by several of her mountain people friends that they lived in the high valleys where life was hard, but good. There they panned for precious metals and mined for magnetic drive crystals.

  Then who could this be?

  She felt hesitant about approaching the shack in which someone, maybe a patroller, could be waiting to apprehend them and send them back to the city and a sentence of death. Indeed, they had come too far to be caught now.

  To the left and a short distance behind the shack was a small hill. Half of it had been excavated in strip mining. She could tell it had been a long, slow process. The older trailings were becoming part of the ground again, and there were green plants growing over it.

  "A miner," she said, knowing the stranger wouldn't answer. "He must be one of the mountain people.” This gave her added courage. "Let's talk to him."

  They made their way slowly, cautiously toward the broken down shack. As they approached, they continually had to step over old tin cans, once an old rubber boot, and over or around other sorts of trash.

  "It seems whoever lives here doesn't care where he throws his refuse. I wonder if all the mountain people are like this?"

  As they came within a few feet of the shack an old man stepped onto the broken down porch. "Hello," he said.

  "Hi," said Viella in a slow drawn out syllable. The climb in the thin mountain air had taken her breath.

  "I sure am might surprised ta see you folks. Why I haven't had a visitor sin' I moved here two years ago."

  The old man had a short white beard, still brown in some spots. Viella wasn't sure whether it was dirt or a natural color. His head was mostly bald with the exception of a few white strands around his ears. The most prominent feature of his whole being, however, was his large bulbous nose. It was even more exaggerated by a small thin-lipped mouth, which was mostly hidden beneath it. His back was slightly hunched, but not too bad. His overall height was not much taller than Viella's five feet two. His clothes were in pretty bad shape, and he didn't smell too good, either.

  "Shore can git lonely out here," he continued. He looked Viella and the stranger up and down. A slightly detectable smile touched his lips. "Well, don't jes stan' there," he finally said. "Come on in an' have a sit." He opened the door and shuffled back into the shack.

  Inside there was a bed, a table and two chairs, an old pot bellied stove, a few pans, some cupboards, some boxes, a few mining tools, and a miner's two way radio.

  The old man saw her looking at the radio. "Don't work no more," he said. "Darn thing busted on me couple weeks ago."

  This last statement didn’t seem to fit the code of the mountain people. She had heard stories about the miner's radio. It was their most valued possession. It was their only link with the rest of the world. It served as a warning for coming disasters. It kept them posted on incoming supplies at the trading post. It kept them informed on the political situation. She once heard a mountain woman say she would rather trade off her husband than her radio, and she wasn't joking.

  "These people at the tradin' post tole me this radio would las' five years. Need no fixin'. An' here it up an' quit on me in less 'n two." He paused. "I don' know where I'm gonna git the money ta have it fixed." His mouth drooped and expelled a small sigh.
>
  But then his lips turned up a crooked smile. "Have a seat an' we'll talk a spell. Yes sir, it's good ta hear voices agin."

  The stranger sat on the bed. Viella and the old miner had already seated themselves at opposite ends of the small wooden table.

  "Say, I bet you two are hungry. I better get a pot a beans ta cookin' on the stove." He got up and started going through one of the cupboards. "You been havin' trouble in the city?" he asked as he pulled down a can of beans.

  "Yes," she said. "That's why we're here. We're on our way to the higher villages to seek refuge with the mountain people."

  "I been lisnen ta the radia up till the time it broke, an' I ain't heard much 'bout no political trouble."

  "It's not something they would broadcast on the radio," she said. "Our government has become a mockery of representation. Our council has yielded to a monarchy of the worst kind. And justice has been replaced by greed." She choked back a sob of anger. What had happened to her city since the discovery of crystals on their planet was appalling. It had become totally corrupt in a short time. "Most of the people in our city are nearly starving, while a few are gaining more wealth than they could ever spend in a hundred lifetimes. If somebody tries to do anything about it, he's sent to the Run, from which there is no chance for escape, or even worse to the pits for a slower death. No, I don't think they will broadcast that on the radio."

  The old man let out a soft, high-pitched chuckle. "Listen child, that seems like mighty big problems, but sometimes you young uns make more out of a sicheation than's really there." He poured the beans into the pot and put the pot on the stove. "I bet right now you could be back in the city enjoying good food an' fine clothes." He sat down.

  "Yes, but . . . "

  "Ya see! Ya see what I said," he was chortling jubilantly. "But you'd rather be stirrin' up trouble."

  "But I come from a wealthy family," she finished in an irritated tone.

  "Oh child," he said, "compared ta me all the families in that there city is rich." He paused a moment. "Ya think ya got problems, ya make yur own problems." He grasped the side of the table. His knuckles became white. His eyes began to squint. "But yurs ain't problems. Ya wanna know wha happened ta me. My people said I was too old ta help support the clan. So, they kicked me out. They didn' give me nothin'. They jest sent me inta the wilderness ta die. Thas yur precious moun'an people fer ya."

  He failed to mention that he had been caught as a thief several times — thieving among the mountain people was considered the worst of evils, even worse than murder. Their view on thieving had come about before the discovery of the crystals, during the time when life was hard in the mountains. Now, life was easier, but their conviction about stealing hadn't changed. So, they banished the old man from their village. Usually a person would have been banished on the first offense, but he was old. So, they ended up giving him two more chances. Still he wouldn't change his ways.

  "Yeah, they threw me out, but I showed 'em. I found me a crystal back there in that hill." He jerked his thumb to the right to indicate which hill. "An I been supportin' myself fine ever since."

  He continued. "Things are gittin a little low now," he mumbled. "But I expect ta find anudder one any day."

  He got up and went over to the stove. Viella didn't know what to say. She didn't want to seem persistent about city politics when they didn't have any real meaning for him. So she didn't say anything.

  "Yur man is goona have ta eat out of a cup cause I ain't got but one plate."

  "That's fine," she said. "We really appreciate your hospitality."

  "No trouble. No trouble a tal." He looked over at the stranger. "Say, yur man don' talk much does he?"

  "No he doesn't," she answered. "But he's still a good man." She looked at the stranger who had saved her life and smiled. Indeed, she thought, he is a good man, or android.

  The old miner passed her the plate of beans. "Ya can jes call me Nahum," he said. "What 's yur name?"

  "My name is Viella," she replied. She looked over at the stranger and suddenly realized she didn't know what to call him.

  "What about him?" asked the old man indicating the stranger.

  Viella considered telling him the truth, but how could she explain that the stranger, probably an android, appeared out of nowhere, like a Godsend? How could she explain that this man/android with the vacant look in his eyes had saved her life several times? She didn't understand it herself.

  "His name is Zed," she blurted out. It was her uncle's name, the only one she could think of in a moment of haste. "Well Zed," said the old man. "Here's a cup a beans. Eat hearty." The old man handed the cup to the stranger and then filled a cup for himself. Between gulps he asked Viella more questions. Occasionally he interjected with comments of his own.

  The android ate the beans, which made Viella realize he was an extremely sophisticated machine, much more human than the conventional android.

  After they finished eating, the old man got up, rinsed off the plate and the two cups in a bucket of water, and stashed them away in one of the cupboards.

  Viella could tell he was starved for conversation. They talked the rest of the day. Mostly about the old man's dreams of finding a crystal big enough that he could move into the city and live the rest of his life in comfort.

  That night he assigned Viella the bed, and he and the stranger slept on the floor.

  The next morning after they finished eating breakfast—water and flour pancakes with a little sweetener sprinkled on top, the old man proposed a plan. "I have some diggin' I wanna git done taday," he said as he looked at Viella. "So if ya stay with me taday, an' tanight, then tamarra we'll pack some things and I'll take ya up the moun'an." There was a sparkle in his eye. "I have ta go ta the tradin' post anyway. And I know all the short cuts. And I know where all the springs are, and more ‘n that, I’ll keep ya from gittin lost."

  Viella considered for a moment. She was sure the patrollers wouldn’t be able to find them now, but the part about getting lost concerned her. "That sounds good," she said. "Are you sure it won't be too much of a climb for you?"

  "There ya go," he shouted. "Ya sound jes like the people a my clan. If I couldn't make it, now would I offer? Huh, would I?"

  "No I guess not," she said apologetically.

  "An' didn't I jes say I have ta go ta the tradin' post?"

  "Yes you did."

  "Well then ya better take me up on it. It's your best bet."

  She realized it was a generous offer, and therefore decided to accept. A few minutes later she excused herself and went outside to visit the scenery. When she came back the old man was still sitting at the table with a funny look on his face, almost a guilty look, but in her naivety she didn’t think anything about it. She saw that the dishes hadn't been done so she offered to do them. The old man readily accepted, jumped up, grabbed his tools, and went off to the diggings.

  The android got up and went outside. It was the first time he had done anything on his own, except fight, since she had met him the night before. She watched to see what he was doing, but he just stood on the porch and stared into space.

  After she finished the dishes she decided to lie down and get a little more sleep. The previous day had drained her of most of her energy, both physically and mentally, and also the old man had gotten them up quite early.

  She laid on the bed and instantly fell asleep. At one point during her nap she awoke just long enough to see the stranger sitting at the table, still staring vacantly into space. That's all she remembered until the old man came shuffling into the shack.

  "Viella!" he yelled in a high-pitched tone. "Viella!"

  "What?" she asked as she sat up from a deep sleep. There was a look of bewilderment on her face. She couldn't remember where she was. "What?" she asked again. Then suddenly in nightmare torrents it all came flooding back. "What?" she asked for the third time.

  "Ya know that crystal I been talkin' 'bout?"

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p; "Yes," she said in the middle of a yawn.

  "Well, I found it."

  "You did?"

  "Yeah, I did. And now I can move ta the city an' have all those comforts I been talk'n' 'bout, good food, an' nice clothes, an' sof' beds, an' all those things."

  "That's great," she said as she stood up. "Where did you find it?"

  He looked at her with a peculiar smile on his face. A smile such as a little boy would have had after doing something naughty, but fun. "Well, really I found it yesterday," he said.

  "What?"

  "You see, I lied about the radio."

  "What!?"

  "Yeah, I knew it was you when I first saw ya. How could I miss the description, a man six feet three and a woman just over five feet. They were blabbing that description all day long. Whether ya know it or not you're the two most wanted outlaws on the planet, maybe in the whole Galaxy. The sum of money they offered fer ya is huge. I'll never be able ta spend it all."

  The horror of what he was saying struck deep. "You sold us out," she said anticipating the worst . She ran over and looked out the door. "You sold us out!"

  "I had ta," he said. "I'm down ta my last crumbs. Another month an' I'd be starvin' ta death."

  "Don't you know what you've done?" she yelled. "I'll be spending the rest of my short life in the pits. You're evil. You're a wicked old man," she said between gritted teeth.

  "Don' be callin' me evil," he screeched. "I'm not the rebel here. I'm not the one who's broken the laws. If ya don' like a gover'ment ya change it the slow way or ya leave it, but ya don' break the laws an' go aroun' killin' people."

  "Sometimes a rebellion is the only alternative," she yelled.

  "Never. Thas never the way." He stared at her for a moment. "We better go out now. They're waitin' fer us." The old man walked to the front door.

  Viella took the stranger by the hand.

  "Not him," said the old man. "They want him ta come out last. They got their stunners set on half power, which would kill any normal folk. They don' want ya in the line of fire in case they gotta use 'em."

  "What difference does it make?" she asked. "Now or later."

  "Come on, thas dumb." He took her by the arm and pulled her out the front door.

  Surrounding the shack there were between twenty-five and thirty uniformed men. It was a type of uniform she had never seen, and the insignia was different, too. No. That’s not true, she thought. She had seen them once before on the home viewer. "That's the Galaef's personal body guard," she said as more of a question.

  "Thas right," said Nahum. "That fella ya got in there is a pritty important fella. If it wasn't fer him you'd probably be on your way ta the moun'n folk right now." He pulled her in the direction of a waving guard.

  "When they’s talking about him on ta radio they called him 'M.'" said Nahum. "I ne'er heard a no ‘M,’ but they's talking as though he were someone famous."

  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. “How ridiculous.”

  Chapter Twenty-four