by Don Dewey
One night Elihas was arguing, as he often did, the same old argument. “Science is the future, and we can do anything with the tools science will give us.”
His father, Goyahkla, enjoyed arguing with his son. “The heart of a man is his future, and his actions, not his science, are what will improve the world, or make it worse.”
“How can you think that, father?” argued the son to the father. “Sometimes you think like an old man, and can’t see the real world around you. We must improve our machines, and build better earth-moving equipment so we can mine minerals and ores at a faster rate and build an even greater civilization.”
“Ah, my son, you’re so young. The civilization you speak of would be made up of people with the same problems they have now, and it would damage nature, perhaps irreparably. You must improve the race, not the science. We must instill morals, and compassion, not the knowledge of how to make a better mousetrap. Why you can’t see this, I don’t know.” Goyahkla sighed loudly. He loved his son, and wanted compassion to be so ingrained in him that no tragedy could remove it. His own personal tragedies had taken his compassion for many, many years. He wanted a better life for Elihas, and probably pushed too hard to accomplish that end.
“No!” Elihas slammed his hand on the dinner table in his zeal. “People are people and will never change much. History teaches us clearly that people never get better. But science can provide better lives.” He was heating up, as he often did, this six foot three Apache. Inches taller than his father, thin and muscled like an Olympic runner, he could argue for hours.
“People can change. I have changed over the years. You wouldn’t have liked me once Elihas, but today I’m a different man. People change!”
Ohma finally stepped in and calmed them both with coffee and some flatbread. “Boys, boys,” she jokingly scolded, “Be nice. I believe a better man at heart may have better science, and that science will help him do better things. What you two argue about are not mutually exclusive things.”
“Wife, you shame us, as always. You’re the wisest of us, and have both compassion and that keen intellect that can cut to the quick far better than we.” He stood and held his wife tightly and kissed her.
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 acciden
t. 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.”
“Maybe they’re making smaller changes, and learning to live in a kind of symbiosis with Normals? Perhaps they see the damage your own personal wars can inflict on so many people.”
“About what I would expect to hear from one of the blind people running the world right now. You simply don’t understand sight. You can’t know what it is to be Pure. So, I’ll do it my way, as old Blue Eyes sang it.” He flashed his brilliant smile. “‘I did it my way.’
“Now about Gheret.”
Chapter 33
Gheret in Love
Falling in love with Emma was very easy for Gheret. She was his ‘employer’ and evenin
g teacher, and they spent a lot of time together. Eventually they were married. They had children, boys of course, since boys were always the progeny produced by a male Pure, and they were a happy family. Gheret became a lumberjack, and a great one at that. He enjoyed the hard work, and the challenge of downing a giant of the forest in just the right way, at the right angle. It took great skill, far more than people thought, and he was good at it.
At the felling of one forest giant he had his right leg broken and his foot crushed. It looked as though his logging days were over. They took him back to the camp and did the best they could at straightening and dressing the damaged limb, but they had little hope for a full recovery. Three weeks later however, he was back to work in the forest, as good as new. The suspicion his recovery raised caused him some concern, but not enough to make him feel like he had to disappear.
He learned to disguise his age as his wife’s showed more. He managed to do what few people would want to do: to look older than he was physically. Chronological age meant nothing to him. It was a hard life in many ways, but not as hard as Gheret had once lived. One night after the boys were asleep, he and Emma made love, taking their time. Afterwards, laying in each other’s arms, she asked him about the lessons they had once engaged in every evening. “Did they help you adapt here?”
“Yes, love, they did. Without them, and you, I’d have had a very difficult time.”
“Where were you really from, my husband? And what is it about you that keeps you young? I can see past the lines you add to your face with my cosmetics. I can see the youthful energy you have in such abundance. Did you think to fool me, as you fool everyone else?”