Forging Truth: The Truth Saga, Book One

FORGING TRUTH

The Truth Saga, Book One

by Raymond F. Masters

Published by Pro Se Press

This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part or whole of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

Copyright © 2015 Raymond F. Masters

All rights reserved.

Contents

Chapter 1

Meeting Caduceus

Chapter 2

Sightings

Chapter 3

Coming to Terms

Chapter 4

Searches

Chapter 5

In Training

Chapter 6

Paved with Good Intentions

Chapter 7

Meeting Aesculapus

Chapter 8

Invasion

Chapter 9

Recall

Epilogue

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE:

MEETING CADUCEUS

1

Blackness. The man, who would not know he was Kade Christopher Truth for some time, raised himself on one elbow. He was on the street—what started the day as a street. There were others, moving slowly around him. He wondered if he had been drugged. Hey! he cried, Where am I? He looked down and what he saw could not be fact. Protruding from his shoulder was a shard of metal approximately a foot and a half long. Horrified, he realized just how close he had come to being decapitated.

Kade’s features, which he had always considered on the average side, were obscured with scratches, blood, and concrete dust. His sandy hair was very much living up to its designation with bits of debris and grime caught within the nap. His clothes were blackened with smoke, but also with the blood spilling from his wounded shoulder.

Shaking, he pulled at the metal on his way to standing and it reluctantly left. That seemed to take weeks. Again he tried, Where am I? Then, What’s happening? He was yelling to be heard over the collage of sirens and screams. The strain of talking so loudly was too much for his taxed body and he found himself again on the freezing concrete. Was it freezing, or was he in shock?

It no longer mattered. Kade was back in the blissful, midnight darkness.

2

Something was different. I awoke in a small room no larger than an old school pantry. How did I get here? I don’t recognize this place at all. I… Who am I? This didn’t feel like my home. What’s going on? I asked the cobwebs. I tried to calm myself.

I was on a cot in the corner of what appeared to be a linen closet. Not a pantry. Close. In the opposite corner stood the world’s oldest washing machine. Industrial. Probably weighs a ton. To my right three wooden steps led to a blanketed doorway above.

I stood, ignoring the stiffness in my neck. My knees popped. Best vacation I’ve had in years. I headed for the stairs but stopped short. What happened when I climbed them? I had no idea where I was. The space, though, was obviously my space. It might not have always been, but for the time being it was.

It seemed I wasn’t there against my will. I knew I was in rough shape, but I thought I could probably fight my way through a tattered old blanket.

I weighed my options a few more seconds and decided it couldn’t hurt to at least stick my head out. Besides, I realized, I really needed to pee. Bad.

Pushing through my door I came into a long narrow hallway that emptied into a surprisingly neat kitchen. An oak island, on which sat an emerald glass bowl piled high with fruit, bisected the kitchen. Seeing the produce my bladder became a secondary priority. I snatched a plum. Greed kicked in and I took another. How long had it been since I’d eaten?

Juice running down my chin and a hollow stomach served as a distraction, so I didn’t notice the mountain of a man swiftly moving my way until he was already on top of me. With an almost imperceptible bending at the waist he scooped me into the air in a fierce bear hug. Startled and airborne I dropped the last of my second plum on the man’s shoulder. He spun me around once and just as quickly as I was lifted I was back on terra firma.

Um, sorry for eating your food, I said feebly. And for dropping some on you.

My boy! It is truly good to see you up and about. Oh, and don’t worry about the fruit. I’m just thankful to not be shoveling soup down your gullet anymore.

I looked through him, uncomprehending. Nonplused he shrugged and said, It’ll come with time, I reckon. Then, as an afterthought, I’m Caduceus, by the by. He flashed the back of his left hand at me, showcasing a tattoo that neatly covered the area between his thumb, forefinger, and wrist. The familiar inking depicted a short herald’s staff entwined by two serpents in a double helix and finished off by a pair of wings.

Gullet? By the by? Was it possible I’d forgotten a little more than my identity? Like, I don’t know, the current use of the English language? I smiled and offered my hand in return. I’m… And that was it. It was the simplest, most honest action known to man. You met someone, you stretched out your hand, and you said, Hi, I’m John Smith. But I couldn’t complete the phrase.

I’m sorry. I don’t remember.

"Figured as much, I did. Come into the living room and sit a spell. You don’t have to remember all at once, now. My shows are coming on, and Heaven knows you ain’t got to know much of anything to watch them." With a huge bellow he left the kitchen.

Laughing as well I followed my new landlord and feeder-of-soup. It was uncanny how at ease I was with this man who was a complete stranger, so far as I knew. Can you get Stockholm syndrome in your sleep? That wasn’t exactly right, though. I had the feeling when I woke up that I wasn’t being held against my will. This man had said he had fed me while I was out. Besides, it felt good to laugh. Still, I didn’t know him from Adam. I don’t know myself from Adam, for that matter. I’d have to keep on guard.

Currently, though, I had only one thing on my agenda. Caduceus, sir, where’s your bathroom?

3

Thought I was going to overflow it for a second, I said, reentering the room. So much for intelligent small talk. When I had finally made it to the toilet I actually sat to relieve myself. This served two purposes. Foremost, I was able to empty my bladder without putting too much strain on my newly ambulatory self. It also gave me a chance to get my faculties in order and come up with something to say when I returned. In retrospect, I should’ve just stood.

Thankfully he didn’t glare or even offer any response. Instead his gaze appeared fixed to the television, or to what I presumed was the TV, though I couldn’t see it from my vantage point. As I made my way fully into the living room I snuck a peek at what was so important: It was an enormous, floor-to-ceiling entertainment center. I didn’t count them, but I’d bet there were at least seven televisions (possibly as many as ten) upon the shelves, each tuned to a different program. The noise level should have alerted me to the use of multiple consoles. No wonder he hadn’t responded. "What is this?"

What, this? he said in his naturally amplified voice. My shows. I told you they were coming on, remember? And as an afterthought, Sit.

For the first couple of minutes I did my best to be polite, but there was no way I could focus on the images before me. I just had too many questions. Despite my efforts I began to fidget like mad.

I know you’re chomping at the bit to regain your past, Caduceus said, intuiting my thoughts. I will do my best to fill any gaps I can, but let’s wait till supper.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I could hold out that long. Do your best? So, we didn’t know each other?

He shook his head. We’re newly met. Well met, too, I might add. Nodding, I kicked back and waited for my supper’s tale.

While Caduceus watched TV—or TVs, plural—while I watched Caduceus. A couple of times he caught me studying him. He must not have minded as each time he returned his attention to his monitors. I had this crazy feeling I knew him. From where, (deleted comma) I didn’t have a clue. Of course that wasn’t really that shocking considering I really couldn’t tell you from where I knew me, either. He was a big man; even sitting he was an intimidating presence. I tried to gauge him but found it difficult. He had to be over six-foot, and his biceps and neck muscles practically exploded from his plain blue tee. The shirt sculpted his rigid pecs and a stomach that was a comfortable amalgam of muscle and gut.

Finally it hit me. I’d seen him in every Monday night wrestling match, in every big-summer blockbuster, and especially within the 22-page, four-color comics I had read growing up. The man was truly the American Action Figure, complete with Kung-fu grip.

4

At 6:00 Caduceus reached for a drawer in his coffee table. Inside were enough remotes to operate all the electronics in the room and then some. After fishing around a few seconds, he finally found the one he was looking for, a VPI universal that turned off every monitor at once.

Positioning himself to address me better Caduceus said, So, what’m I gonna call you, boy? I can’t have you living here without a name, now can I?

I flashed a smile. Well, I haven’t given it much thought, to be honest. I mean, if you call me John Wayne, for instance, and then months down the road I regain my memories, will I go by my name or will I go the rest of my life referring to myself as John Wayne?

Caduceus raised an eyebrow at me. "Well, John Wayne, that’s the most you’ve said since I first laid eyes on you. You sure you haven’t given it much thought? Mayhap I should just call you Jackass. Then you can be Jackass for the rest of yer days. Would that suit you?"

Okay, okay. How about Jack for short?

Are ye serious?

What’s wrong with Jack? It’s a strong name: Jack.

Yeah, and it’s the least original name out there. Bauer, Bristow, Sawyer—

And the beanstalk, I offered.

My point is every new movie and book released has to have at least one character, normally the protagonist, named Jack. It’s an entirely overused literary device.

So is amnesia, I pointed out glumly. Besides, it’s my name. Why can’t I choose it?

You’re obviously still addled from your little nap!

How can you possibly judge a good name, anyway? I mean, Caduceus? Bit of a mouthful isn’t it? How ‘bout I call you Ducie?

Moving to the very edge of his seat he leaned his large frame over mine, locked eyes, and said, I’ve taken a lot of heat over my name, thank you very much. Aesculapus, for one, has been very jealous of it over the years. His inside joke was lost on me.

Pulling back a little from his intense gaze I replied, Sorry, Ducie, I really was just trying to get you worked up.

Heh, and here I was thinking you were truly enjoying your newly-regained consciousness. How silly of me. Wash up and meet me in the kitchen. That plum and any force-fed soup has pretty much warn off by now, I’d imagine.

5

By the time I reached the kitchen Caduceus had already gathered the bulk of ingredients needed to prepare the meal. I offered to help but received a slight grunt in response. "You can go get us some drinks from the icebox on the back porch, though. Oh, and mind your step. We’re up a bit."

We certainly were. It was amazing; the view was like something from a Thomas Kinkade painting. I went to the railing and looked out. We were on the side of a large hill—a baby mountain would probably be more accurate, but I was sure geologists would only classify it as a hill. Then again, I’d go to my grave calling Pluto a planet.

The log house itself sat squarely on the mountainside, but the back porch was a two-thirds wraparound deck supported by huge wooden pillars, each as tall as a tree. Overlooking the treetops I felt like I could jump off and soar over them. Directly below was a wide stream that snaked off through the woods. Currently a couple of deer stood with their mouths lowered to the water. Filling their gullets, I could hear Caduceus say.

Drinks! I had gotten lost in watching the deer take theirs and forgot all about getting ours. I found the icebox—no refrigerator here, this was an actual icebox—right beside the door I had just come through. I must have walked right past it, sidetracked by the view. The top shelf was full of beer from what looked like every country, and the bottom two shelves had just as wide a variety of generic colas. I grabbed a couple of cans of beer and a couple more of root beer.

Caduceus poked his head out to check on my progress. ‘Fraid you might’ve fallen overboard. What do you think? Magnificent, eh?

Yeah, there were deer and everything. I felt like I was in a Disney movie. More than that, I’d felt a connection with them. With all of it, really. It was amazing and peaceful. Watching them was the only time since I woke up that my amnesia wasn’t at the forefront of my thoughts.

He nodded, smiling. "Gregor and Leah. They prefer to drink at this end of the stream; the water’s a little special here."

Right. Well, would it be okay if we ate supper outside?

"That would be perfect. I really think you’ll love the sunset. It’s a little special in its own right."

6

Caduceus was right about the sunset. If possible, it made the view even more stunning. The reds and oranges lit up the sky and reflected back to us from the stream. The trees seemed to glow with rich amber rays. Gregor came and went a couple of times over the course of the meal, but Leah must have tired early.

The meal was fully loaded. I had no idea how Caduceus managed to pull the banquet out of thin air while I had been outside getting the drinks. There were the freshest, sweetest fruits, and a very juicy salad with Caduceus’ homemade dressing, for starters. Then he brought out a large bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy, a generous helping of fried okra, and finally a steaming tray of both round and strip steaks. The smell was enough to drive you mad if you let it.

"How did you pull this off? I wasn’t gone that long."

Ah, I’m an old pro when it comes to cooking. ‘Tis my favorite pastime. Especially when I’m able to cook for others. Well, go on, let me know what you think.

I took a bite and nearly burned my tongue and lips off. Woo, better let it cool some. When my taste buds grow back I’m sure it’ll taste great, though. Caduceus, sir, I said turning serious, I have so many questions. I was wondering if perhaps you might be able to fill in some of the blanks. I mean, how did I end up here? Why did you take me in?

He took a breath before saying, You died. In the attack. He let it hang in the air.

I was speechless. What had he said? Died? What attack?

Well, I thought you did anyway. It was a couple of weeks ago, after the attack… I was in the cleanup effort, and… I ran across you there, and I… brought you home. That’s it. That’s how you came to be here.

"Wait a minute, now. That’s it? So, you start out saying I died and scaring the cat crap out of me, and that’s it?"

"Well. There might have been a little more. I just don’t know if you are ready to hear everything just yet. And do try to watch your language. It’s way too pleasant out here for that kind of talk."

"I’m sorry, sir. But I’m ready to hear the details. I need to hear everything. I deserve to. I think it might help me get over my amnesia. So, can I trust you to give me a complete retelling of the events that led me here? I want the truth."

The truth, he said simply and began.

CHAPTER TWO:

SIGHTINGS

1

"My fellow Americans… That phrase has lost the significance it once held. September 11, 2001, we lost more than lives. We lost identity. America was shaken to the brink. The war that followed will forever fuel philosophers and smarter men than myself into heated debates over what we could have done differently. Tonight, all these years later, it’s still the same. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do? Heh. You turned on your sets to hear my words of encouragement, or to hear me promise we will seek vindication and mete out justice on these bastards, or we will throw every single man, woman, and child at them until everything is all right again.

"I’m here to tell you, you can turn your TV’s off RIGHT NOW! I’ve