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The Aeolian Master Book One Revival

Page 83

by John Northern


  Jacob pushed the invi button on the brim of his hat and the razor sharp blade shot out from inside the rim, reflecting light from its deadly edge. If he were to let go of the hat in a throwing motion, the section of blade, where his hand had been grasping the rim, would snap out, completing the deadly circled blade of Norimuinatit.

  All menservants in his country were schooled in the art of hat throwing. It was deemed that a manservant must protect his master at all costs and with any weapon available, and for this reason, among the other courses of weaponry at the University, there were three courses, which dealt specifically with the subject of "hatting." And before one could graduate as a manservant he had to complete all three courses.

  Jacob pushed the button again and the blade disappeared into the rim.

  In all the history of menservants on Altos there had only been two situations when the hat had to be used. The first one involved a burglary. The manservant, Charles, was standing on the other side of the street looking through a store window while he waited for his master to finish shopping for the day.

  He heard a scream from the maidservant who had accompanied the master into the store. When he turned he saw his master, who had just exited the store, being attacked by a would-be robber. He quickly reached for his phasor—the weapon of choice in that situation, pulled it from the holster, and aimed, but as he pulled the trigger the circuitry shorted out and the phasor became inoperable. In a desperate attempt to keep the burglar from harming his master, he quickly snatched the hat off his head, pushed the invi button, and made a throw with a quick snap of the wrist. The flight of the hat was not completely accurate, but considering the distance, it had to be considered acceptable. The hat sliced into the attacker's right buttock causing him to go down in pain. An ambulance and the police were called. And that ended the first incidence of hatting.

  Almost a hundred years later, the second incident again involved an attempted burglary, but this time it happened in the master's mansion. In the middle of the night the manservant had gotten up in his nightgown and flipped his hat on his head—out of habit, but as he left the room to go to the kitchen for a glass of milk, he forgot to take his phasor. (By doing so he violated one of the first rules of man serving). While in the kitchen he heard a noise coming from one of the family rooms on the other side of the hall. He quickly and quietly walked across the hallway to investigate. When entering the room he saw a man holding a valuable painting in his hand. And just then his master, who had gotten up earlier and was reading in the study, stepped through the door at the far end of the room. He had a fire poker in his hand.

  The burglar dropped the painting, pulled his phasor, and turned toward the manservant, but seeing he was unarmed he whirled toward the master who had raised the poker above his head. The burglar took aim and was just about to shoot the master when suddenly a hat cut through his neck nearly parting his head from his torso.

  Considering there had only been two incidences in all those years it seemed probable to Jacob that he would never need to use the hat; nevertheless, he continued to practice with it. He also kept up on his swording, cane, and phasor practice. Recently he had decided to start practicing karate again.

  He put the hat on his head. Made sure the phasor was in its shoulder holster beneath his jacket, and left the room.

  It was early morning, and he was about to make his rounds to check on the other servants when one of the warden's guards came running down the hallway. "There's something happening in the yard," he yelled as he ran by. "I just saw it on the monitor, and it looked like Roqford did something to the warden."

  Jacob turned and followed the guard down the hallway. If his master were in danger, Jacob would have to do anything necessary to save him, even if it meant putting his life on the line.

  They ran up the stairs to the entrance of the crossover tube. The guard punched in the code and as the door started to slide back they squeezed through the opening and started running down the walkway.

  When they got to the other end, the guard punched in the code and the door slid back. They stepped out of the tube and onto the prison-wall walkway. The phasors were firing at random and melting whatever they hit including the ground. The prisoners were below the rim on the embankment of the pit holding on for life. The guards on the wall were running for their lives as Roqford sauntered along behind them. The guards weren't stupid enough to try to fire on Roqford. It was known that these cats from a distance of thirty feet and sometimes further depending on their size were so fast and so maneuverable that they could have you in their jaws before you could pull the trigger. And if you did pull the trigger it wasn't likely that you would hit anything but air.

  To the left, about ten feet away, the warden was lying on the walkway with his head partly turned to the left. There was a large pool of blood forming under his neck and chest, and running over the side.

  The first thing Jacob thought as he looked at the warden was, unemployed. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think he had enough money to get back to his home planet.

  What have you done? he asked Roqford. And then he added, You've gotten yourself into a terrible mess.

  Don't worry, answered Roqford. In actuality, I have saved the warden from a long and horrible death in the Zi Pitsss. He stopped, turned, and laid down with his head hanging over the edge, facing the prisoners.

  Jacob and the guard watched the firing phasors. Jacob wondered what started the whole affair and then wondered why Roqford was so confident. And what did he mean he had saved the warden from a long and horrible death?

  And then the tower disappeared.

  The top of it, along with the men inside, was gone instantly and then the rest of it like a sandcastle beneath a wave crumbled into nothingness. And the phasors blinked out.

  "By the curse of the Zorg," whispered Jacob. He didn't normally talk with this kind of language—being a dignified manservant, but at the moment he was in the middle of a battle with phasor bolts flying everywhere. His master was dead. He had been unable to save him, and more than that a friend of his was the culprit who killed him.

  "What now?" asked the guard.

  "Yeah," answered Jacob. "What now?" He didn't know what to do. At the moment he was without a master.

  So, the two of them just stood and watched.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

 

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