The First Book of the Pure (17 page)

“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.”

Gheret in Love

Falling in love with Emma was very easy for
Gheret. She was his ‘employer’ and evening 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?”

“Not forever Em, not forever. But I love our
life, and I don’t want it to end.”

“Everything ends, Gheret; nothing is forever.
We have now, and we should live it well.”

“You continue to teach me all these years
later.” He said this to her with a warm, sincere smile. “You’ve
filled me with love, and have given me the ability to extend that
love to others. You’ll never know all that you are to me.”

“But,” she said, coaxing him to continue,
“there’s more.”

“Yes, much more. Not everything ends as we
expect. Myself, for example; I’ve lived longer than you would
think. How old do you think I am, dear?”

“Hmm, it’s never come up, and because of your
Inuit tongue, and shall I say, ‘rustic’ background, I never asked.
Perhaps fifty, though you seem, under the false image you attempt,
more like thirty. And in all truth, you
must
be older than
sixty. Will you tell me?”

Gheret looked at her for a long time, and
made his decision. He had shared his life with her, but only this
period of his life. He would share it all. “Yes. I will. In the far
west and south, long ago, a man was savaged by a great bear, and
lived when he should have died. He recovered, from that and
everything that came at him. He was attacked and stabbed by his
tribe mates, and still recovered. He led that group for more years
than I can remember, and finally just didn’t want to live anymore.
He found a lonely place to die, and lay down. But years later he
woke up, like in a fairy tale, and continued to live. He sought a
change and headed for a cold climate, and eventually settled there
to live.

“He fathered sons, two of whom were alive
when he, well, kind of died. He never found out what happened to
them. I really don’t know for certain, but oh, several hundred
years ago, he went on a wolf hunt.” He hesitated and smiled at her.
“He was too stubborn to give up such dangerous pursuits. He was
flushed down a chasm by an avalanche, to remain buried for many
years. When he woke up, the ice had receded. It seemed to have been
a very long time. He then moved around just a bit and found a
wonderful woman, fathered some great children, and lived a
wonderful life. In his new home he worked as a lumberjack.
Unfortunately he got his leg caught and pretty well crushed, but it
corrected itself and healed in just weeks, so he knew his abilities
hadn’t diminished. It’s a simple story, really.”

“But incredible. If it were anyone but you, I
would not, could not believe it. But it’s true, isn’t it? I’ve
known you for only this brief portion of your long life?” There was
still a question in her voice as she stared at this man she was
afraid she didn’t
really
know.

“Yes, my love, but this has been the happiest
time I’ve ever known.”

“So, how old do you think you are? How old a
man did I marry?” There was both humor and a deep question in her
eyes, and he knew he had to answer her.

“My best guess would be that I’ve consciously
lived between twenty and thirty centuries, but I’ve been alive far
longer. I skipped periods of time often in my earlier years. I grew
bored, and life was always a struggle. I don’t really recall how
many times I did it, and I never knew for how long I was
‘
out
.’ I am convinced that I have skipped far more years
than those in which I have stayed awake.

“I don’t believe I’d have lived through being
buried by that avalanche except for the extreme cold. It must have
allowed my body to survive longer than it otherwise could have. I
believe I was frozen solid, and only used whatever ability it is
that keeps me alive after I began to thaw as the worst of the ice
receded. I was there long enough for the great crevasse to clear of
ice, and for the normally snow-packed ground to be green. It was a
long time. My first people were brute savages, with no real
language. I was with them for generations. I’ve tried to date it,
but I still have to guess. You married a very old man. But I don’t
feel a day over 400.” He smiled at her.

Emma pulled back from him a bit, and had a
look of, what? Fear, perhaps, in her eyes. That he could not bear.
“You could be what? Four, five thousand years old? Eight thousand?
Were you alive when the great pyramids were being built?”

“I don’t know, but does it matter? I live a
full life with you and the boys, and am happy to hide my lack of
aging. Do you understand that my love for you will not diminish,
and that I love you more than I ever, in all these years, believed
I could love anyone?”

She snuggled close to him, and said in almost
a whisper, “It
has
been a good life with you, love, and I’ll
take all of it I can have.

“But what of our sons? Will they share your
ability? Will they live for hundreds of years?”

“I can’t know the answer to that question. As
I told you, I don’t know what became of my past family due to the
great passage of time. Perhaps I have sons still alive, and perhaps
it’s just me, and my children will always be normal. I just don’t
know. I d
o
know that you’ve helped shape me into a better
person, and a man who can love, and learn. You’re still my
teacher.”

He drew her close and kissed her and her
tension evaporated. Time stood still for both of them in this
precious moment they shared.

Session 11

His host seemed distressed in some way and
simply walked out. Kenneth was afraid to try to go back to his
room, for fear of giving offense and bringing on some physical
reprisal again. Not knowing what to do, he simply waited. He
waited, juggled fruit, played mind games, and generally was very
bored. Hours later Bertram came and took him back to his room with
no explanation.

The next morning his Host entered the
interview area as though nothing had happened, and Kenneth wasn’t
about to ask any questions about his abrupt disappearance.

“Gheret had his moments of fleeting
happiness, as most of the Pure have had. The next two became a
couple over time, and are still together. That’s what amazes me
about them. Ruby and An’Kahar are still together.”

Intimacy and Family

Ruby and An’Kahar weren’t wicked, nor were
they solicitous of others, or even philanthropic in nature. They
were somewhat amoral, as they searched for others of their kind.
They
were
curious. They felt like curiosities, and perhaps
that’s what made them so curious in nature. An’Kahar had a driving
need to find others, while Ruby seemed more contented with life,
but was willing to help him. He was generally kind hearted, while
Ruby had a deep hurt for children she saw abused. She’d donated a
great deal of money over the years to shelters, wanting to somehow
help women and their children. She helped in that way, but didn’t
get directly involved.

They became lovers over the course of time,
which was not a surprising aspect of their long lives. They were,
after all, the only ones of their kind they had found, and they had
far less in common with Normals than with each other. It took Ruby
a long time to open up to An’Kahar, with her suspicion of men, yet
he had earned her respect and her trust. First they became friends,
then finally intimate. Even An’Kahar’s patience moved her.

Centered in a suburb of New York, they ran a
transportation business together. They had developed new kinds of
fuels, but found they were hard to implement and market. They
themselves used them, of course, and profited from it. They had
several hydrogen vehicles in their fleet, which they could refuel
anywhere. It just involved setting up a mechanism that removed
hydrogen from the air and compressed it into the storage membranes
of the vehicle. They also pioneered compressed natural gas, which
had finally gained acceptance and was being used by more commercial
fleets every year. They found that the urban myth of government and
big motors keeping such things off the market was mixed with the
difficulty of getting past mountains of red tape and making the new
tech profitable enough to mass market. The blame wasn’t on any one
group or thing.

In the course of business, An’Kahar, still
using his original name, as was Ruby, would follow up leads when he
heard rumors of people with exceptional longevity, or spectacular
recovery from an accident. On one such follow-up he went to
“interview” a man named Gheret McStieve. Rumor had it, based on a
newspaper article and a pretty spectacular YouTube video, that he’d
been partially crushed in a motorcycle accident. He was put in a
full body cast, life support, and there didn’t seem to be much hope
for his survival, let alone his recovery. Yet he did recover, and
went back to his quiet life of business and philanthropic
endeavors.

An’Kahar had tried several times to make an
appointment to see him, but was rebuffed every time. Changing
tactics, he camped out in the hills near McStieve’s home. He’d been
watching the man’s home for three days when he finally saw him. He
was in the back by the Olympic sized pool. It looked like he had
just gone out to lie in the sunshine. He had on loose shorts, a
muscle t-shirt, and flip flops. He was well muscled, and the
picture of health – hardly the portrait of a man who had been
broken and disfigured.

This was his chance. He used all of his
stealth as he crept through the grounds, avoiding people he assumed
might be more than just gardeners and landscapers.

Since it was a talk he wanted, when he got
close enough he stepped out boldly. “Hello, sir. May I have a
word?”

Gheret’s response wasn’t encouraging. Without
more than a glance at him, Gheret sternly said, “Get out! Now, or
I’ll call for security. How did you get past them, anyway?”

“I’ve had a long, long time to develop
stealth. I just came to ask your age, Mr. McStieve?”

“No, get out. Guards!” He shouted toward the
house.

“Please, I just want a moment. I’m not a
threat, but we may have…” He didn’t get to finish because the first
of the outside guards was on him. The man rushed him like they were
playing football. An’Kahar stepped aside quite nimbly and let the
man rush past, giving him a blow on his shoulder, which put him
down and out. “I just want to talk!” he pleaded with Gheret.

Three more men had arrived, and seeing their
compatriot already down, sized the intruder up and were more
cautious. One drew a sidearm and gave an ultimatum, loudly and
clearly. “On your knees and you won’t get hurt.”

An’Kahar was a determined man, so he rushed
the three. They were unprepared for one opponent, seemingly
unarmed, to try such an audacious tactic. The one with the gun was
closest, and An’Kahar got to him before he could fire. One midriff
punch and an elbow to his face bloodied the man and put him out of
the fight. The next one swung at him, but An’Kahar ducked and
knocked the wind out of him with a stomach punch. He didn’t follow
up because the third man was closing in, and when An’Kahar looked
at him, he fired the pistol An’Kahar hadn’t noticed. The bullet
struck An’Kahar in the thigh. The guard wasn’t interested in
killing anyone, but he
was
going to take this intruder down.
Unfortunately for him, An’Kahar kept coming and bowled him over,
taking his gun away in the process. He stood there, gun in hand,
bleeding profusely from his thigh, and looked at Gheret, who didn’t
seem all that concerned or impressed. Gheret watched the wounded
stranger collect his guards’ guns and toss them all in the pool.
Gheret looked at his men one at a time. “I’m glad you didn’t kill
them. They
are
pretty good guards, actually, today’s
disaster notwithstanding. What was it you wanted?”