The First Book of the Pure

by Don Dewey

  All those thoughts, while still whirling about in his mind, were summarily dismissed. Robert had always fought him, and had nearly killed him, which had forced him into a hidden dungeon to skip many years as his body healed. In a way Robert had cost him England, although, how long could he have kept the struggling place together? He’d lost all patience with being a king by then, so best not to dwell on that event. But Robert, he would be a problem until well and truly dead. His decision was made. His newly found Pure son must die. And the man with him, Max something or other, would die too. He had prepared for this contingency for decades. This new, techie world was his kind of place; he wouldn’t give it up for anyone or anything. It’s all right. I’ve another Pure son, and one who’ll do anything I ask.

  It was time he hit the field again. He hadn’t done much in the way of personal combat or “field work” as he thought of it, for many years. These opponents were worthy of him in one sense: they were Pures, they had memories as long as their lives, and they had the experience necessary to significantly modify plans in the heat of battle. They could not, however, have his ability with current technology, nor his overpowering need to win. I doubt any of them have been kings.

  He called up his Director of Security, Bosh. “Get a strike team ready. Tomorrow night we’re going out to do some serious work. Your best men, unquestioningly loyal.”

  “Sir! We?”

  “Yes, I’m going too. In fact, you’ll be second in command. I’ll be in charge, directly. Understood?”

  “Yes sir. We’ll be ready. A team of eight?”

  “That will do. Have a backup team, same size, ready to go also. Six o’clock sharp.”

  ***

  While Karl was making his decisions and arrangements, Max and Robert were doing the same. Max was a “head on” kind of guy, doubtless from his beginnings as a Roman soldier. Max knew Karl was going to keep it up until they were dead and broke, and he wasn’t sure which was worse, “your money or your life.” Robert was angry, but not as confrontational, and certainly not as physical. Max had their Security Chief, Manuel, get a team ready too. He wanted a bomb built that would take out Karl’s home.

  “Max, we can’t. That guy is nuts. He won’t stop if we escalate this with him. Let’s send a message that we can go our separate ways and, you know, live and let live. Let’s try and negotiate.”

  “Sometimes you’re weak, Rob. That won’t work. He’d say yes, and that would make us easier targets for him later. This is war, and we have to be all in. That man has to die.”

  “But he can’t die! He’s a Pure! You saw that; he can’t die anymore than we can. We need to stop all this before we destroy everything we’ve worked for over the centuries, please.”

  “He can die. Make no mistake, we aren’t immortal. We just have a highly evolved regenerative system. If we could manufacture it and market it we really could rule the world, absolutely and completely. Nobody wants to die. But we can’t duplicate whatever this ability is; I’ve tried. We do know that our bodies regenerate tissue incredibly fast. Mine does it faster than yours, but both of us can survive heart punctures, deadly physical trauma, and even brain injury. Poison hasn’t killed me, but I’m sure not all of them have been tried. My poisoners were never in good enough condition after I found them to tell me what they used. I told you about my amnesia, right?”

  “What? You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. I took an arrow once that penetrated my skull. It hit my brain, and it was just accepted by my compatriots that I’d die. But I began to heal, and talk, and they waited to see what would happen. Mu’dar was my friend and teacher at the time, and he knew my story, and so he had reason to believe I might recover. After a while I could function as well as ever, but there were gaps in my memory. Those gaps were never filled in.”

  “Wow. I had no idea. When was all this, Max?”

  “Well, it was while I was still Mu’dar’s student, so it was several hundred years ago. Both a mentor and friend, he was the gentlest man I ever knew. He wasn’t weak, just more concerned for others than for himself. He’d die before hurting someone else. Several times during our relationship I had to fight to keep him alive.” Max went silent, staring at nothing.

  “I remember you talking about Mu’dar from time to time. How did you get hurt?”

  “Mu’dar and I were traveling with some others, a couple of teachers and their students, and four guards hired by one of them. Bandits came out of nowhere. I was told they were very skilled.”

  “You were told?”

  “Yes, I have no memory of the event itself, nor of the two years prior to it with Mu’dar. Fortunately I’d been with Mu’dar long enough to have a history I did remember, so I knew him as my friend and teacher, but that gap…

  “I took an arrow to the brain. I can’t tell you how or exactly where it hit, because I’ve no scars now, and no memory of it. But I do know this: if enough of my brain had been injured, I would’ve died. Your body can’t live without your autonomic system functioning. You just die. Bad enough I lost some memory, but it could have been much worse.”

  “Hmm, I suppose certain things would insure death, even for one of us. Getting one’s head chopped off would work, I suppose. Or burning up in a good hot fire, or being bombed with a big enough explosion. I see your point about Karl, and us.”

  “We need to completely destroy him. If he survives, he’ll keep fighting. You saw him in Toronto. He was shot, took a knife, spraying blood like crazy, and kept fighting. He’s one of us. We have to be extreme to kill him, as he’ll try to be with us. If we don’t, he’ll pursue us and more people will die like the forty in our main office.” For a warrior such as himself Max was surprised at how upset he was about the loss of those people. “This isn’t about revenge. It’s about retribution. What goes around really should come around. He can’t be allowed to keep devastating people’s lives like this. Forty of our people, plus the ones in Toronto. That’s a lot of families with tragic losses. He’s got to be stopped.”

  “So we’re going to blow up his house? Good plan. I’ve always loved explosions. When?”

  “I think we have to move quickly. He was already prepared. Look at what Karl’s done to us already. He’s killed an entire shift at our office, excluding Shirley, bless her, who called to warn us, and you know he’s coming after us next. We should have been ready for this kind of attack. We should have planned for more than just making money.”

  “I’m with you, Max. Set it up. We’ll go together.”

  Chapter 46

  Blood Is Thicker than Water

  An’Kahar had told Ruby everything about his father. They talked for long hours about the ramifications of finding another Pure, alive and related. He was excited, she was leery.

  “Slow and careful, An’Kahar. You don’t know this man, just his story.”

  “Of course, Ruby, but I remember him well, now that I’ve connected his current persona with the father I knew so long ago. He was a rock. He was strong and demanding, but I believe he loved us. I wonder what life would have been like if he had survived, or rather, if he’d been able to stay with us. Hundreds of years is too long a time to keep a memory fresh.”

  “I’m sorry, but you don’t actually know the truth of his story. Maybe he just left you. Maybe he has no feelings.”

  An’Kahar stared at Ruby, silent in his musings. He started to speak, but stopped himself. He sat across from her in their solarium. It was a favorite place for them, enjoying the sun and warmth with an open feeling to it. “He’s my father.”

  Ruby stared back. “I never knew parents. My earliest childhood memory is of stealing bread in the streets.”

  “He asked if we had children,” An’Kahar said quietly.

  “He must have offspring around somewhere, don’t you think?”

  “He does, and he keeps track of them. He visited until they aged and he didn’t, and he realized he needed to disappear from their lives. If we had a child, he’d have a gran
dchild he could keep in touch with. Our son would know about us, so it should be okay if he knew about his granddad too!” An’Kahar was getting quite enthusiastic as he talked about them having a baby.

  “Son? I’ve always had girls.”

  “And I’ve always fathered sons!” An’Kahar grinned at his mate. “I guess I don’t know what we’d have together.” His mood turned more serious. “Gheret suggested to me that maybe that’s why we haven’t been able to conceive yet. Each of our bodies is trying to produce what the other can’t.”

  Ruby looked stricken. “Maybe,” she said in a shaky voice. “What if that’s true An’K? Maybe we’ll never have children.” A tear slid down to the corner of her mouth.

  An’Kahar held her for a long time, giving her silent reassurance. Finally he said softly, “We will have children. Maybe twins, a boy and a girl. And you’ll be the best mother ever!” His love for her radiated from his eyes as he drank her in, believing every word he said to her.

  She looked up into his face. Slowly a smile spread across her damp face, replacing the tears. “I’d like that.” She caressed his face with her hand.

  “Let’s try now,” suggested An’Kahar, lifting her in his arms and carrying her toward their bedroom.

  “Oh, let’s!” She snuggled her head into his shoulder.

  Later that evening, after they were both spent, they sat talking about the things uppermost on their minds. Finally Ruby asked him about Gheret. “What will you do about your father?”

  “Just what I said. We’ll live our lives, and he can visit, or we can, and we’ll become friends. At least that, Ruby, I need at least that. You know you’re my family. I sought you out because I needed to have people in my life who are like me, and will live as long as I will, and then I found myself in love with you. Water seeks its own level, and it seems that I do too. He also told me about some people to look into, thinking they may be Pures. I’ll go see one of them, and I wondered if you would approach the other, or maybe, just check him out from a safe distance? Gheret says he’s a Pure, and a very bad one at that.”

  “Of course, An’Kahar. No problem. I’ll be as cautious as ever, though, and not at all trusting, no matter what your father thinks. I trust you, not him yet. That may come with time, but not yet. Are you all right with that?”

  “Oh, he didn’t endorse anyone, he just pointed out potential flaws in their cover, if it is cover. He has quite an extensive network, I think, and while he doesn’t investigate people as I do, he is curious. I have to go see a woman named Rose, Rose Stewart, in Connecticut. If you’re willing, I want you to go meet Karl Schmidt, a financier and business mogul. In his case there may be an advantage to your being a woman. You may want to gain intel from a distance at first, because this guy sounds like he gets unhinged often and easily. Gheret in no way endorsed this man. From what I got from him, you should keep your throwing stars handy. He’s dealt with him before and considers Karl very dangerous. Be careful.”

  Chapter 47

  Pures Are Getting as

  Thick as Fleas

  Ruby made her way to Karl’s estate, using her considerable skills to get very close without detection. She was dressed in such a way that she blended in with her surroundings – not camouflage, but earth toned, snug garments that wouldn’t get caught on anything and blended in with trees and foliage. She had a great deal of experience in the art of sneaking. Unfortunately one guard did notice her, but was unable to give an alarm, what with the razor-tipped throwing star in his throat. Well, that’s unfortunate. Ruby looked down at his body. It won’t endear me to this Karl Schmidt any, if I actually meet him. She picked up her star, walked further on and another guard appeared out of nowhere, directly in front of her. He seemed as startled as her, and wasn’t particularly eloquent. He said something like, “Uh, what, uh..” Then she took him out. She was wearing steel tipped boots, small of course, as she was, but deadly. She kicked the man so hard as he stuttered at her that he went immediately to his knees, vomiting profusely. As he knelt there, throwing his innards up, she clocked him on the back of the head with the steel baton she’d extended. She trussed him up instead of killing him and continued on her way.

  She wondered if he might choke to death, being left like that. Ah well, serve the devil, get your reward. Still, she rolled him on to his side, then found a fairly secure location from which to observe the grounds and some of the great room. It was really a great room, too, with walls of windows looking into a room twice the size of most homes.

  As she watched with nearly infinite patience, developed over centuries, she finally was rewarded by the appearance of Karl and someone else. She was sure it was him because of the bio she had managed to dig up with pictures. Seems normal enough. She was startled as Karl sucker punched the man he was with, and then proceeded to give him what must have been a life-threatening beating. He pummeled him with his fists, kicked him viciously again and again while he was down, and seemed to be yelling something the entire time. Ruby lifted the listening device she carried, turned it on, pointed it, and caught the words, “Fool! They should be dead, dead! You worthless short-lived …”

  Ruby turned her listening device off. I don’t need to hear this.

  Karl finished beating the unfortunate man, looked at the perhaps now dead body on the floor, walked to a desk near a window wall and touched a button. He spoke for a moment and shortly afterwards two men came in and hauled the body out. Not going in for a visit, that’s for sure. Using her high powered monocular camera she looked the room over carefully. She was very observant from countless years of necessity, and she quickly realized the wall décor seemed to be from various periods of history. The odd thing was that they weren’t just displayed; they were displayed in a way that put them all in context, in a chronology. That sword had to be an eleventh century two-handed English broadsword. The ax next to it seemed to be more recent, perhaps thirteenth century Asia. The weapons display continued to the present, all with various plaques under them. Got’cha. Those are your own personal weapons from your own personal history – you are a Pure. And apparently not a very nice one. With that she snapped some high definition pictures of the displays and began her exit. As she crept away from the main house she knew she did not, nor very likely ever would, like the man she’d been spying on.

  ***

  As she headed toward her rendezvous with An’Kahar, she wondered what he would make of all this. Pures seem to be as thick as fleas on a dog. I wonder just how many there really are of us?

  She and An’Kahar met at a five star hotel in Arlington, not too far from Karl’s estate. She had an extra day to relax and enjoy the spa while she waited for An’Kahar to get back from Connecticut. She luxuriated with a manicure, pedicure, chocolate massage, facial and the odd looking but wonderful cucumber slices on her eyes. Claude, the spa owner, completed the day with a full hair makeover.

  When An’Kahar arrived, they spent the early evening in a lust-filled few hours of intimacy, followed by a lovely meal at one of the in-house restaurants.

  “So An’K, how was Rose, or rather, who was Rose?” Ruby’s eyebrows lifted, anticipating an interesting answer.

  He smiled at her with genuine love and affection, and explained what he’d found out. “It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it. She lives in a modest fifteen room estate with just a few servants. There were horses all over the place, and I had to do some riding to fit in. She was cordial, and seemed interested in my questions.”

  “You poor man, no fun at all.” She gave him a wry smile.

  “Oh, just because you weren’t there. It was a fabulous place really, and she was very nice. She thought I was crazy, I think.”

  “What did you admit to her?”

  “Well, I kind of admitted what I am, although by the time we were done she didn’t believe I was serious. I’ve told people before, years ago, and unless they have reason to believe it, as Gheret did, they dismiss it as a joke or some kind of mental instability. I th
ink she may have opted for the second category.

  “She showed me her family treasures, which included some wonderful historic items, but…”

  “What?” Ruby prompted.

  “She knew all of her ancestors, had them researched. Her grandparents were minor nobility in France, and she’s living off the proceeds of a business they built. Too much of everything. You and I could never point to someone and say, ‘Those are my parents, and my grandpa was such and such.’ She just seemed too rooted in this time and place to be a Pure.”

  Ruby thought about it for a moment. “Maybe she just has a very good, deep cover?”

  “Maybe, but doubtful. You can’t very well have a family adopt you when you’re an adult, so none of us would likely have that deep a cover.”

  Ruby paused after he stopped talking, lost in thought. “Unless, of course, she is a Pure, but young, and still in her first identity.”

  “I suppose that’s a possibility. I’ll do a bit more checking, but I think it will turn up zilch. What about your visit with this Mr. Schmidt?”

  “Ah, well, I had to disable some guards, one of whom won’t recover. The other one might have lived, but I didn’t check as I left. I didn’t meet the man himself, but I watched as he beat a man nearly to death, or maybe he killed him. I couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t a contest; he was just angry. I know we play fast and loose at times with the lives of Normals when we feel we have to, but this guy …he was just callous. He called the man he was beating, ‘worthless and short-lived.’ And his décor! My, what a gorgeous assortment of antiquities: all weapons, displayed in a kind of chronological sequence. Here, I have pictures.” With that she took her pad and touched the screen. He picked his up and looked at the detailed pictures she had taken.