EIGHTEEN
There is a long list of individuals who have
claimed immortality. It’s easy enough to disprove the boasts of
many simply by waiting around 40 or 50 years. However, if we are
pressed for time, a search of the historical records will have to
do. Leaving aside those who have been granted extremely long and
durable lives by supernatural means—like our good friend Mr.
Cade—there are at least nine individuals who appear to have been
around for centuries, and have been verifiably sighted by different
historians, at intervals as great as 500 years apart. Of those
nine, several may play a role in U.S. interests. There is the Comte
St. Germain, of course, who visited the White House not too long
ago. . . . But we have recently been apprised of another one of
these blessed (or cursed) beings, who is supposedly also the
inspiration for the popular novel written by Mrs. Shelley about a
scientist who discovers the secret of life through robbing graves.
He’s said to have offered his talents in the service of the German
empire.
—Letter to President Theodore Roosevelt, dated
1903, signed only “HH” (Classified)
Konrad waited a full five minutes after
Cade left, taking the time to get his breathing back under control.
Over sixty years, and the hate was still there, rushing back to the
surface.
There were times Konrad simply wanted to talk to
Cade. He remembered an absurd burst of joy when he first learned of
Cade’s existence. He’d known about vampires before that, of
course—he had been acquainted with the Other Side for a long time,
because of his studies.
But with Cade, he thought he might have finally
found someone who could understand. Other vampires abandoned the
human world almost immediately, except to feed. Cade insisted on
dressing and acting and talking like a person. He was still
tethered to humanity, as much as Konrad was, but like Konrad, was
above it.
Of course, Cade was much younger. And
disappointingly moralistic, even priggish. Konrad had to abandon
his fantasy of the two of them sitting down like civilized beings,
perhaps over cards or chess, and discussing what they had learned
in their long lives.
Cade hated him. Had from the moment he first saw
Konrad. Konrad knew why, of course. He spent enough time with
Sigmund, back in Vienna, to make a simple diagnosis. (Sigmund found
him distasteful—probably for reasons even the analyst could not
explain, or would ever care to plumb. But he was bound by the rules
of polite society, of gentility, to converse with a man of Konrad’s
wealth and stature.) In Konrad, Cade saw a parasite feeding off the
life of others. He despised that.
It was only a reflection. Konrad was just the
surface on which Cade projected his own self-loathing.
Konrad was forced to conclude that Cade was too
sentimental. He did not recognize what he was, how he was greater
than the common mass of humanity.
It also kept him from recognizing Konrad’s
position, as far above Cade as Cade was from the common herd. That
was why Cade would always fail. He did not know his place, Konrad
decided. He was incapable of recognizing his superiors.
At last, it was time to remedy that.
He picked up his phone and dialed. It took a moment
to connect; the encryption was always a bit slow.
“It’s me,” he said to the voice that picked up.
“The president’s pet bloodhound was just here.”
A slight pause. “What did he want?”
“That’s not the right answer,” Konrad said.
Another pause, longer this time. “We’ll handle it,”
the voice replied.
“Yes. I thought that was what you meant.”
“There’s no need to be snide, Doctor.” Even through
the electronic masking, Konrad could hear the wounded pride. “I
simply wondered what you’d done to attract the president’s
attention.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” Konrad said. “It doesn’t impact our
agreement. You don’t need to know.”
“You sound frightened, Doctor.” Now there was a
slightly mocking tone.
Konrad took another moment to compose himself. “Do
you really think you’re in a position to push me?”
Another pause. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t,” Konrad said. “But you will.”