Mid-Atlantic region, New World, Lenape Territory, 1581 C.E.

4, 17 year old boys walked across the rolling plains of what would become Virginia carrying muskets. They had been out hunting for food when they came upon a group of young natives and white women camping together. Naturally, they assumed the women were captives and decided to rescue them.

Lorcan, the eldest by a few months took command as always, “Benjamin, you and Jabez circle around the hillside to the right. Stay low, don’t let them see you, Jeremiah and I will stay here. Wait for me to fire first. Then you fire, Benjamin. Be careful of the women. Ben and I will charge down the hill with our knives, and you 2 will fire off the next round to give us cover. Then follow with your knives drawn. We’ll grab the women and run back to the camp. Got it?”

Jebez looked at the others nervously. As usual he was the only one willing to speak up to Lorcan. He pushed back the lock of chestnut hair that was always falling in front of his round face with a calloused hand, “Umm, I’m not sure. These are grown Injun warriors and we’re just children, and they outnumber us 7 to 4. Maybe we should head back…”

Lorcan reached out with one massive hand and grabbed Jebez by the shoulder. Even kneeling down, the imposing size advantage he held over the other boys could be felt. “Head back to camp, Jabez? And suppose they’ve already eaten the women by the time help gets back? What then?” Lorcan’s green eyes burned into Jebez….

“Eaten? Lorcan, they are wearing Injun clothes, they might be captives, but…” Jebez tugged at his own English garb to stress the point that the women had clearly spent some time with the natives.

“Look, I’m going to save those womenfolk from these red-skinned barbarians, are you going to help me or run back to camp like a coward?”

The boys looked at each and knew, they were going to give in as always, “Alright Lorcan, lets do it.”
Lorcan smiled, excited by the thought of battle and heroic deeds. “Good, get into position.”

The ‘battle’ started according to plan. All 4 musket shots hit their targets, which is rather impressive if you know anything about muskets. Then they were on them. Only 3 of the natives had been killed by the musket balls, the other 1 was just irritated and still in fighting condition. A 4 on 4 melee ensued. Jeremiah and Benjamin traded fatal wounds with their opponents, Lorcan and Jebez overwhelmed their opponents and killed them quickly.

The 3 women did not react the way Lorcan had anticipated. Turning to them and smiling, Lorcan spoke “It’s okay Ladies, you’re safe now. Our camp is just half a day from here, you can come and find shelter there.”

They began to wail like banshee, “Safe?” one screamed, “You think you saved us? Those were our husbands you just murdered you sons of devils!” They then picked up their dead husbands’ hatchets and charged.

Lorcan became enraged and killed 2 of them before they had even delivered their blow, Jebez knocked the third women, the 1 who had screamed at them, to the ground with the back of his hand. Weeping, she wiped the blood off her mouth and glared. She looked around at the carnage and spoke soft and harsh, “Your stupid, ignorant hatred of those different than you has caused the meaningless deaths of my family and your friends. I curse you. My name is Idony Gizos, bride of the Lenape, and I invoke Mani‘to with my life’s blood to curse you both. You shall not die as long as there is strife among the tribes of man.” And then she took her husband’s stone hatchet and fell upon it. She did not make a sound as the blade split her chest open and her blood poured out onto the cold earth. A cold wind blew across the rolling plain. Not a sound was heard from human or animal. Lorcan and Jebez picked up the bodies of their friends wordlessly and carried them back to camp.

Of course they didn’t believe the curse at first. Good Christians don’t believe in pagan curses. When 10 years had passed and they hadn’t aged a day, Jebez began to believe but Lorcan dismissed it as coincidence and chalked it up to healthy living. When Jebez pointed out that he was a drunk, he just laughed and told him to stop being superstitious. After 20 years had passed he too believed in the curse.

Mid-Atlantic region, New World, Jamestown Colony, 1610
The small shack served as a makeshift tavern for the 200 plus settlers of the colony. They sat on upturned barrels drinking corn-whisky served in deer-skins mourning the loss of their family to the rampant disease.

“It’s been 20 years Lorcan, and nothing has changed for us, while all those around us suffer the ravages of time.”

“I know, I know, Jabez.” He stared at his whisky, and then smiled and looked up at me, “but really, is it so bad? I mean what kind of curse is this? Immortality? Are you really going to complain? We don’t get sick, our injuries heal immediately, and we are forever good looking. What’s the downside?”

“I know it seems that way Lorcan, but its unnatural, there has to be a price.”

“You worry to much Jabez! That crazy witch tried to curse us, and instead she blessed us.” He laughed and took another drink.

“Forever is a very long time Lorcan.”

“It’s not forever, Jabez, just until mankind learns to live together in peace.” More laughter, “Okay, maybe it is forever.”

“I wonder if you will still be laughing 100 years from now.”

He was. 100 years, 150 years, he continued to enjoy himself, as did Jabez. He took a wife more than once. Built houses and businesses. Became the mayor of a few towns. Coloring his hair and marking his face to give the appearance of aging, and then faking his death every so often. Lorcan though, he reveled in it. Traveling the world to remote places and setting himself up as warlord or petty tyrant, playing god to ignorant tribes, he basked in the power that experience and immortality gave him.
After 200 years, the novelty began to wear off for them both. Lorcan found Jabez in a gold rush town in northern California. He had taken on the role of a Catholic Priest. They expected him to be somewhat aloof and to demonstrate some wisdom, so it worked out well for concealing the truth of his identity.

Placerville, California, 1849

“Father Jebez, is it now? A little ironic don’t you think?” Jebez was sitting at a table in the alehouse, He half turned and looked over his left shoulder to see Lorcan standing there, smiling at him.

“Hello, Lorcan. What brings you back to the New World?”

“The New World? It hasn’t been the new world for 100 years Jebez, you’ll blow your cover.”

“Are you going to stand there acting the ass, or will you sit?”

“Such language from a man of the cloth?” He circled the table and sat across from me. “How are you?”

“I’m still alive.”

“Ha! Yes, I suppose we are. Not much chance of that changing in the near future is it? I think I have discovered the sheer brilliance of this curse, Jebez.”  People began to look, these were not the type of things gold panners like to hear bandied about casually.

“You want to keep your voice down old friend? You’re upsetting the natives.”

“And what will they do? Stone us? Shoot us? Burn us? Let them do their worst, I will survive. Unfortunately, I will survive.”

“It still hurts. I would like to avoid waiting for my burned flesh to grow back if you don’t mind.”

“Very well, for you my friend, I suppose I owe you that much.”

“You owe me more than that.”

“Meaning?’

“Meaning? I mean, this interminable torture is your fault.”

“My fault? How is it my fault that evil witch rewarded us rescuing her with a curse?”

“We didn’t rescue her, you ass. She wasn’t in any danger. And if you had listened to me, we never would have attacked them, and there never would have been a curse. Nor would our families have taken revenge for the death of Jeremiah and Benjamin by slaughtering the entire Lenape village. All of that suffering is on your head and I have to carry the burden with you.”

“So what do you want me to do? Should I confess my sins, father? How many Hail Maries and Our Fathers should I say to receive absolution from Jesus? Please, you were there, you killed those men, you beat that women down, I didn’t hold a gun to your head. In fact, I gave you the chance to take your morals and go. So don’t lay your sins at my feet, Father Jebez!”

“Why are you here, Lorcan?”

“I’m bored. I thought perhaps I would enjoy the company of a fellow sufferer. I guess I was wrong.” Lorcan got up to leave.

“Wait, I’m sorry, of course it isn’t all your fault. I guess I’m just feeling particularly frustrated today. Please, sit, stay, have a drink.”

Lorcan gave a half smile and sat back down. “I know what you mean about the frustration. Every day, just like the last, for 3 centuries now, with no end in sight. Not even a glimmer of hope. What possibility is there for an end to strife among the tribes of man?”

“I do not see any.”

“You know a war is shaping up in this country… back east?”

“What? With who?”

“Themselves. Oh, its at least 30 to 50 years off but you can see the sides forming. One side is arguing rights of man to be free while the other argues the rights of states to govern themselves. As if any of them cared about any sort of rights. Look at this place, its squalor and degradation defined, and no one cares at all. The same people who are arguing for and end to slavery don’t think Negroes will get into heaven because they bear the mark of Cain. And the self-government types have no trouble running petty tyrannies inside their states. It’s all just a smokescreen for economic advantages. But their will be bloodshed, I guarantee you that.”

“It’s always over the same things isn’t it? Control. Control of land or resources or treasure or trade routes and all the rest is just for public consumption so they will fight.”

“True enough. So what?”

“Well, if we are going to end warfare, we should probably figure out its causes, don’t you think?”
Lorcan spit his liquor across the table, “End warfare! Us? Are you drunk or have you gone insane from age? What makes you think we could possibly do that?”

“What other choice do we have? If it doesn’t end, we will drag on through the countless ages without end. I think I really will go insane.”

“I think you already have Jebez. Even if I agreed with this ridiculous idea, and even if we figured out the cause that needs to eliminated, how would we possibly make that happen? I may have played at being a deity on occasion, but I’m not. Nor are you. Can you think of any mortal position which would have the authority necessary to make something like that happen?”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“Of course I am. About what?”

“The problem is that no single organization is in control of the world. We need a world government.”

“A what?”

“A world government. One central body to organize all the governments so that they can debate their problems instead of killing each other over them?”

“I don’t think I said that.”

“You did identify the problem as nobody had the power to stop nations form warring.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I said that, but… You did just hear me tell you that there is going to be a civil war in this country soon in which one side is arguing the national government can’t interfere with the state government, right? What makes you think you can get nations to accept a higher political authority?”

“It will take some time, I grant you, but we have plenty.”

“We?”

“Do you have something better to do?”

“Okay, so what’s your plan. Are you going bring back Jesus?”

“We’ll call that plan B. For now let us start with getting ourselves government jobs.”

“Jobs? I was a god in South America not 2 months ago!”

“Well now you’re going to be a civil servant. At least you won’t need to learn humility.”
Present Day, New York City, United Nations Plaza
“Mr. Assitant Secretary-General?”

“Nadya, I realize you have only been in this office a few weeks, but I really am going to need you to call me Jabez, or Mr. Garvey if you require the formal. My title takes entirely too long to say and sounds far more important than it really is.”

“You advise and administrate policy for the Secretary-General of the United Nations, I would say that’s fairly important sir. But I will call you Mr. Garvey if you prefer.”

“I do. Now, what can I do for you?”

“You have a meeting with the United States Ambassador at 8 about counterterrorism initiatives in central Asia. At 9 you are with the Russian ambassador about counterterrorism initiatives in Chechnya, and at 10 you have the representative from OPEC about the counter-piracy initiatives off the coast of east Africa.”

“What’s at 11? Am I meeting with Al Queda about counter-infidel issues in the middle east?”

“No, Sir. You are meeting with something called a Personal Investigative Committee.”

“Right, right.”

“Sir, I haven’t seen a personal investigative committee on any budgets or administrative plans.”

“Your point, Nadiya?”

“Well, I was just wondering what it was. I mean, I need to coordinate your events and answer questions, I should really know what’s going on. Shouldn’t I?”

“It’s a secure matter, Nadiya. I’m sorry but you don’t have clearance.”

“It’s listed as personal, sir. That doesn’t sound like a secure matter.”

“Will there be anything else, Nadiya?”

“No, Sir. You’re flight to Austria leaves at 1. I will brief you on your in flight schedule en route.”

“Thank you.”

Nadiya walked out and shut the door behind her. Jebez sat back and sighed. This situation had turned into something other than he had intended. To much time was wasted on paperwork and bureaucracy instead of doing the work of peacemaking. Still he had made some headway. It would have been easier if not for always having a force working against him. Hopefully he would be able to do something about that soon.
***************************************************************
“Sir, your 11:00 is here.”

“Thank you, Nadiya. Show them in.”

3 men entered the room dressed in identical grey suits with blue ties, shaved heads and no jewelry of any kind. If not for the ethnic differences, 1 each Caucasian, African, and Indian, they would be indistinguishable. They walked in a straight line and stopped in front of his desk.

“Gentlemen, what news?”

Masozi, the African agent, stepped forward. Jebez could never remember if he was from Nigeria or Uganda. “Sir, the target has not been reacquired since the American’s invaded Afghanistan.”

“Do you think he is still in Afghanistan?”

Rafi, the Indian agent stepped forward as Masozi stepped back, “It seems unlikely sir. The American’s have been scouring the country in search of his boss for some time now. If he were there they would have found him. They seem to think he is in Pakistan.”

“You disagree?”

“The lack of evidence of any sort of movement makes me believe he is dead sir.”

“I guarantee you he is not dead.”

Terrance, the Caucasian agent stepped forward, Rafi stepped back, “Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“You seem so sure he is not dead, Sir. We have no evidence either way. Why are you so sure?”

“I know him. Let’s just leave it at that. Do the American’s have any leads in Pakistan?”

“No sir, they have just deduced that their man is there through a process of elimination and an unwillingness to admit the possibility he may have slipped past them.”

Jebez let out a long slow breath, “Great.”

“Sir, it is obvious there is more about this man you haven’t told us. I don’t care why that is, but there may be information that you are withholding that could help us catch him. Perhaps without you realizing it.”

“You have everything you need.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have anything else to report?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well then get back to it. Let me know when something changes.”

The three men turned and walked out of the room in a single file line.