The First Book of the Pure (16 page)

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Authors: Don Dewey

Tags: #time travel, #longevity, #inuit, #geronimo, #salem witch trials, #apache indian, #ancient artifacts, #cultural background, #power and corruption, #don dewey

BOOK: The First Book of the Pure
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Goyahkla then turned to his grown son and
flashed him a brilliant smile. “Be a better man, my son, and use
better science with greater compassion. See how simple it is? Your
mother has it figured out. She has brains, beauty, and great
emotional stability. We could do far worse than emulate your
mother.” Goyahkla realized right then that he’d never felt so
satisfied, so fulfilled, as at this moment with his beloved wife
and son. While his loss from long ago still sometimes haunted him,
he loved his family now, in this time and in this place.

Elihas had been laughing as his father
addressed his mother, and laughed louder as the two embraced and
kissed. He continued smiling as Goyahkla turned back to him. “How
could I not learn love and compassion in this home, with you two
doting on each other?”

He had no idea what was to come that very
night.

Chapter
30

 

Session 9

 

 

Kenneth had been captive for nearly two weeks
now, and was more than a little concerned. His host’s story seemed
to be the stuff of science fiction, and he only typed out additions
to it at night for lack of anything else to do. He knew his guard,
Bertram, was keeping an eye on him, and he wasn’t willing to try to
sneak out with him on guard. He had, more than once, decided that
an unexpected blow might take Bertram out, and after that he could
leave from the wide glass doors in the room they used daily. If he
could make it into the woods behind the house he might be safe.
But for how long
?
Surely there are other people in this
man’s employ. They could track me down. I couldn’t hide
forever.

He had a real concern that this madman would
kill him when this was over, or lose his temper and hurt him badly.
He had come to breakfast as usual, but that was all that happened
that passed for “normal” here. His host was nowhere to be seen, yet
again, and Scarface, as he had mentally been calling the man who
had kidnapped him at gunpoint, was waiting for him. He had no
liking or admiration for this man, so all he gave him was a
“What?”

Bertram turned his cold smile on Kenneth. “We
get to spend the day together, here, just the two of us. Ain’t that
grand?”

“Why? Where is, uh, you know?”

“Don’t know, don’t care, ain’t none of my
business. My orders are to keep you in here till he’s ready to see
you. Sooo, that’s exactly what we’ll do. Might as well get
comfortable, ‘cause you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Kenneth had run out of patience. “How about
if I just go back to my room and you can come get me when he’s
ready, how about that?”

“Don’t think so, Bud. I do what
he
wants, not you. Sit, stay.” He laughed at his crude attempt at
veterinarian humor.

Kenneth got up, unwilling to sit here with
this idiot, and started back to his room. Scarface jumped up,
slammed his fist into Kenneth’s gut, doubling him over, gagging as
he tried to get his breath. As he slowly righted himself, Scarface
smiled his ugly smile at him. “Guess you need more training: sit,
stay!”

He sat back down, dropping heavily into the
chair, and decided the punch was strong enough to make him worry
about eating and keeping anything down. It also caused him great
concern that his host wasn’t particularly interested in his health
and welfare. This really could get very, very ugly.

They sat in silence for a long while. Finally
Kenneth picked at some of the artistically displayed breakfast
items, casting occasional stares at Bertram, who did about the
same, seemingly content to let his mind focus on nothing at all.
Kenneth stared at his scarred captor, and thought that if he were a
cartoon, the “think bubble” above his head would always be empty.
At least
he isn’t in danger of wearing out his
brain.

He was allowed to use the restroom just off
the Three Season room used daily as the site for his host’s
monologue, and to walk the perimeter of the room. That was all.
Time dragged by very slowly.

Suddenly his host was there, nodding to
Bertram, who promptly walked out of the room. That left Kenneth
alone with this strange man, both captor and entertainer, as he
told this wild tale to him in bits and pieces. Kenneth immediately
protested the treatment he had received that morning, which was met
by a raised hand to stop his tirade.

As if it were a normal morning meeting, his
host began. “Today we’ll continue the story of Ruby and An’Kahar.”
As he spoke he seemed to ignore his frustrated captive.

Chapter
31

 

Ruby and An’Kahar

 

 

After she stabbed him, Ruby had dosed
An’Kahar with a tea that assured several hours of a deep sleep. She
admitted to herself that she was curious about this one. He could
indeed have her abilities.
And if he did? What then?
Do I
want a man about who will live even longer than the ones who
treated me so badly?

When he woke up several hours later he was
sore but clearly better than when he’d been stabbed. She sat
looking at him, and said, “Sorry for the pain.”

“I would have done the same to you. There was
no other way for you to be sure. I’ll heal by tomorrow or the next
day, none the worse for wear.”

“And then? Do you have plans, aspirations?
Why are you here?”

An’Kahar answered slowly. “I’m lonely. Do you
not find it so, as you outlive those you’ve come to know? To have
nothing but an illusory relationship with others? It’s not good. I
desire to know others with whom I can build friendships,
partnerships, and expect that they may be around in ninety years,
as I expect to be. My mother and my brother died from age and
illness. Wives have died. It’s not enough.” He neglected to mention
his older brother, whom he had killed in a pique of anger.

Ruby thought about it. “How did you find
me?”

He smiled. “It wasn’t you that I sought, only
someone like me. Although, in spite of being stabbed, I think I’m
glad it was you I found. The point being that I found someone like
me. I left my home in the far north long ago, after my father died
in a hunting accident. I became a prospector, and could put in far
longer days and much more energy than others trying the same thing.
I’m stronger, require less rest, and generally can do the work of
two or three men without a problem. I managed to find and claim a
gold mine, and from there developed my fortune. I’ve had
investigators following the slim leads of people whose history
seems questionable. Yours, for instance, shows that you arrived
here grown, and that someone with a similar name disappeared
shortly before that within fifty miles of here. I don’t believe in
coincidences.” He smiled at her. “And here you are, confirming my
hopes with this conversation, and with your actions.” He glanced at
his bandaged arm. “You
are
a Pure.”

“Pure?”

“It’s what I call us, now that I know that
it’s not just me, and that we’re ‘us.’”

“As good a label as any,” Ruby conceded.
“Often have I wondered about the reasons for this long life and
health.” She gave him a blatant stare. “I, too, have felt the need
for some more lasting form of friendship through the years. I’ve
had friends, lovers and husbands, and even children, but it’s all
so fleeting. It seems futile. As Solomon said, ‘There’s nothing new
under the sun.’ You knew Solomon was still around, right?”

Ruby looked shocked, and started to
answer.

“Just kidding!” An’Kahar laughed, long and
hard. “Maybe, but I sincerely doubt it. At least, I don’t have any
knowledge of him being around today.”

An’Kahar said in his most sincere tones, “I’m
not looking for something as self-serving as sex, or even as stable
as marriage. I want to know some people who will still be there
later, and again, later.”

“Stay here and heal then, and we’ll try to be
friends. Let’s share our histories and our lives, and in the future
perhaps we’ll build more on it.”

So An’Kahar shared his history, from his
snowy beginnings in northern Alaska, his trek south to leave his
Inuit heritage and become part of the white man’s culture, to his
time as a prospector, seeking gold. He finished off his story by
explaining how he had developed into an entrepreneur, and now had
resources to help him in his search for other Pures.

Ruby, in turn, shared her life: the times
when she was property, the times when she struck out on her own and
found it so hard in a man’s world. She finished by sharing that
she, too, had accumulated some fair amount of wealth, derived from
her various relationships and from her own insightful buying and
selling.

An’Kahar spent several months with Ruby,
developing true friendship and camaraderie. A messenger would
appear regularly, so that An’Kahar could take care of his business
through him. So far as they knew, they were unique unto themselves.
But they hoped not.

They agreed that the world would continue to
change, and that they needed to be ahead of the curve. To that end
they pooled some resources, and made a joint venture into mining,
and better ways to see it done.

An’Kahar left to return to New York, a
growing town that held a great deal of promise. Ruby told him she
would consider moving closer to him, so they might see each other
more often. Their last conversation before parting was noteworthy.
An’Kahar asked Ruby, “Why do you think we are as we are?”

“I’ve given it much thought. I’ve a small
laboratory behind my own bedroom, and I’ve worked long to figure it
out.” She saw his look, and continued. “I know, you didn’t see it,
but you can if you wish. It’s hidden behind a wall that recesses to
give entrance. No one is supposed to see it. Best to not excite the
feeble minded with something they couldn’t understand. I was
killed, well not exactly, for being a witch once. I would just as
soon not have that kind of nonsense and suspicion plague me again.
While I’m ahead of what passes for science in this current world of
ours, I still can’t isolate anything that would explain this
phenomenon. There’s something different in our blood, but not
something I’ve figured out as of yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll keep at it,” encouraged
An’Kahar. “After all, we seem to have plenty of time.”

After some final discussion about it, they
raised their glasses in a toast, and went their separate ways.

Chapter
32

 

Session 10

 

 

Kenneth sat alone in his room. It was a nice
room, but still a cage. He pictured his precious children; TJ, just
three years old, and the most open hearted person Kenneth had ever
known. Jesse, his four-year-old red headed firebrand, was a bundle
of enthusiasm, and a joy to him.

He wanted so much to hug them both right now.
I’d even hug Evelyn
. Truth be told, he even missed her, and
the give and take they’d fallen into since their breakup two years
ago.

He looked out the window and saw nothing but
his family, tears flowing down his face. He was startled when
Bertram banged on his door with his fist, yelling at him. “Let’s
go. The boss will be ready for you soon.”

 

***

 

His host seemed distracted. “The Pures I’m
telling you about aren’t all friends. Actually, none of them are
what I would call a friend. Some, like Ruby and An’Kahar, are
enviable though. They seem to enjoy their partnership, and life
itself.” His eyes narrowed and fixed on Kenneth. “They’re a bit too
much like Normals, I think.

“Some of them are far too caught up in
emotion and other people. I’ve learned that wisdom doesn’t allow
for that. One must be strong, and to be truly strong, one must rely
on one’s self, and that alone. You’ll find this next
couple
,
interesting. Gheret fell in love.”

“So you don’t get along with others of your
kind, huh?” It was more a comment than a question.

“Not very well, I’m afraid, young man. None
of them seem to be able to grasp the reality of our stature, the
superiority of our race. I understand it very clearly. It’s the
driving force in my life. It disgusts me that they’re so
blind.”

“Have you ever considered that they may have
a perspective you should look at more openly? I ask as a reporter,
not an antagonist. I always have to look at every side of
everything before I report on it. But I imagine you’ve done that
over the, uh, centuries?”

“Of course I have. Consider this Kenneth:
you’re the only man with sight on the planet. Everyone else,
everyone mind you, is blind from birth. They have
never
seen, and they don’t know what sight is. Their culture has
developed along sightless lines, evolving much differently than
ours has. Picture that?”

“Okay, I’m with you so far, sir.”

“Now imagine that you come along with full,
wonderful sight. How would you affect their culture? Would you just
fit in and do nothing different? Would you live as though you were
as blind as they?”

“Of course not. I don’t think we should deny
what we are, and what talents we have, but...”

“But what, Kenneth? But what? Just how would
your input be received? Would they appreciate it? Would you improve
their world against their will? I think you would be compelled to
do so. We aren’t speaking of a man seeing full color in the land of
the color blind who only see in shades of gray. We’re talking about
a total change in perceptions. I believe
that
is the
position I’m in, that
we
are in, as Pures.

“We are the sighted in a world of the blind.
Remember the old proverb, ‘In the land of the blind, the one eyed
man is king?’ We’re so much more than that. We, or rather, I, will
rule, because the others are worthless. They’re the sighted trying
to live as though they’re blind. I abhor them, as any thinking man
would.”

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