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  Horsa walked across the courtyard in the early morning before the sun had risen with a critical report on his lips. There was a light mist lying on the grass promenade leading up the old administration building of the now defunct Belarusian University in Minsk, Belarus. The University was founded in 1920 but in 2036, the school found itself in financial trouble as many tech schools did in the thirties. Toprak was seen as the school’s financial savior when they purchased the University in the same year. However, by 2037, the University was officially closed and Toprak turned the school into a type of private research facility and used the location for its corporate operations.

  Belarus was a rather forgotten country about two-thirds the size of Poland, its immediate western neighbor. It was also surrounded by the Ukraine, Lithuania and Russia. In 2029 Russia had again exercised its military superiority in the East for the first time since the collapse of the USSR by invading several countries. The Russian Republic that was established in the early 1990’s had deteriorated to the point that it was now functioning more like the old Imperial Russia than a liberated republic. Russia had grown increasingly tired of the terrorist activities originating from the Islamic countries to the south so in a commanding and destructive march to India, Russia captured control of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Afghanistan and Pakistan, stopping at the Indian border. In the fashion of old-time warfare, Russia displaced all the peoples of the invaded countries that were not destroyed and scattered them in the interior of Mother Russia. They then relocated loyal Russians into the vacated counties and rewarded distinguished officers of the military with governorships and large tracts of land. Due to the West’s issues with Afghanistan and Pakistan during the Desert Wars in the early part of the century, they did nothing but watch, happy to have someone else do what they couldn’t or dared not do, which was destroy nuisance countries. It was the largest invasion and military enterprise since the 1940’s when Hitler marched across Europe except this time, the world just watched it evolve on the Transnet.

  Reaching the century-old building, Horsa walked across the Masonic-style checkered floor and up a white marble staircase to the office of his brother Hengist. Hengist had his living quarters attached to his office since his work was unpredictable and long and he was often found sleeping at his desk. Horsa knocked only twice and then walked in. The office was empty and quiet, and there was a half-full bottle of Bulbash Vodka on his desk with two empty glasses. It appeared Hengist had had company the night before and there was a very good chance the company was still in his bed. Horsa opened the blinds in his brother’s office, poured himself a glass of Bulbash and got comfortable on the leather sofa.

  Lying on the couch, Horsa looked across the room at his brother’s desk and read his name plate, Başkan Genel (president general). He thought back how far they had come in the past 13 years and everything that had happened to him and his brother since they left their home in Germany to try and capitalize on the Turkey boron rush. Boron had become scarce in the past decade and thus commanded very inflated prices. Then as now, boron was only found in natural form in Turkey and the United States, but the Turkey mines were being opened almost daily and were being strip-mined. While having a devastating effect on the environment it made mining safe and easy.

  The two brothers, like the 49ers in California 200 years before them quickly realized that the dreams of wealth in the mines were just a dream. However, being determined and resolute souls, they found other means of generating wealth by working for other mines and skimming a portion of the mineral for their own profit. When their operation was discovered, they killed a foreman and buried his body in the tailings and fled the country; volunteering as soldiers of fortune in Russia. Fighting seemed to be in their blood and they not only proved to be very good at it, they also loved their new profession. The Frankish and Germanic peoples had a long history of being soldiers for hire in various foreign wars throughout history, the American Revolution being one of them. The Russian expansion of 2029–2034 was unpopular with the Russian general public and therefore foreign nationals were welcomed into the military in exchange for pay and spoils for valor.

  They entered the Russian Army both as efreitors (privates) but rose quickly through the ranks in the first two years of the war due to extraordinary valor, which was just another name for raw barbarianism. The brothers were affectionately referred to on the battle field as kan kardeşler (brothers of blood) and men flocked to their regiments since they rarely lost a battle and were known for leaving few alive. On several occasions when they felt a particular conflict had ended too soon they would wade through the dead and wounded and bayonet the bodies seemingly for no other reason than to just do it all again.

  Hengist was raised to the rank of Polkovnik (Colonel) in 2031 and Horsa was his right hand at the rank of Mauop (Major). In these positions of power they burned through thousands of miles of territory leaving a trail of not just death but pure carnage in their wake. By the time their march reached Bayramaly in Turkmenistan, approximately half way to India, their reputation began to go before them. Whole cities surrendered at their approach since it was known that any opposition was met with decisive destruction of all living things whether it be man, woman, child or animal. On at least one occasion, after taking a bullet in the thigh during a battle in Uzbekistan, Horsa had a herd of 300 sheep butchered and left them to rot in the sun. The Kremlin publicly denounced the two German brothers but secretly rewarded them with promises of land and governorships after the war.

  Hengist was the brains of the partnership and Horsa was certainly the brawn. Horsa was nearly seven feet, over 300 pounds and preferred hand to hand combat when he had a choice; not just because the scale was always heavily in his favor, but he loved the intimacy of death and executing it under his own hand.

  After the war, the Kremlin couldn’t award favor upon Hengist and Horsa publicly after they had denounced them throughout the war to the world, so they held a mock war trial and had them condemned to hang for crimes against humanity. The Kremlin hung two unknown war prisoners in their stead and then helped Hengist and Horsa set up a corporation in Turkey to whom they awarded 350,000 square miles of land and cities in the new Russian territory of Turkmenistan, which included nearly all of the former country of Turkmenistan. The Kremlin used the mock corporation as a global public relations ploy to show that they encouraged peaceful Islamic settlements and that the Turkish Toprak Esir Corporation would help ensure their cultivation.

  In the following two years, Hengist and Horsa turned a territory with a gross domestic product of just over 31 billion GD into a staggering 100 billion. From there, they began a global enterprise of real estate brokering, buying, selling and strong-arming small governments; which also lead to the financial ruin and seemingly peaceful takeover of Praia. At that time they also purchased the defunct University in Belarus and moved their center of operations there.

  The Belarusian University was enclosed within high wrought iron gates which lent itself very well to a secret operation and made it easy to guard. The Belarus government granted Toprak special don’t ask, don’t tell favors at the pressure of the Russian government. Within their highly secure campus, Toprak conducted many different research projects all of which were completely unknown to the world. The Corporation itself was also very secret with an incredibly loyal human organization–ex-employees were non-existent. When someone went to work for Toprak Esir, it was understood that it would be a lifetime assignment but with excellent wages and benefits. While no ex-employees could ever be found, there was a body trail that was staggering, all of which could not be directly traced to the Corporation, of course.

  With a pleased smile on his face, Horsa’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening and followed by an exhausted groan enter the room.

  Wiping the sleep from his eyes and enjoying a full stretch, Hengist yawned, “Am I going to pleased or pissed?”

  “I guess th
at depends on how much vodka you had last night and how good she was,” laughed Horsa swinging his legs off the couch and sitting up to face Hengist.

  Shaking his head remembering his stressful late night meeting Hengist replied, “Well, I don’t think I had enough and she was terrible considering my meeting last night was with Aldegund. We were discussing the Algerian project.”

  The Algerian project seemed to be riddled with complications and Horsa thought better of it than to ask about details. Aldegund had been with Toprak since the beginning and acted as an emissary for special projects, though his job description was obscure at best to outsiders.

  “So, what brings you out of your cave at this unnatural hour?”

  “I have some news from Washington,” replied Horsa sounding somewhat anxious to share.

  “We always have news from Washington, every 24 hours we have boring news from Washington. So I’m assuming this is special, boring news?” said Hengist as he poured himself a glass of the remaining vodka and yawning again.

  “Abdul is dead,” said Horsa delivering the message proudly.

  Hengist set his glass on his desk and turned to face Horsa, “So, I am going to be pleased it appears.”

  “Very pleased, my lord,” Horsa said laughing.

  Abdul’s death could only mean one thing and that was the Minimum was finally affecting the rest of the world which meant Toprak could proceed with their plans in haste.

  Ever since his brother’s rise to Polkovnik he paid him greater respect but his word choice today was even more formal than normal. Hengist leaned on his desk and rubbed his hands to his face, thinking through the implications of the news, “Can we assume that it has happened then?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Do we have any details?” It was clear Hengist was suspect and knew there was more to the story than what his brother was telling.

  Horsa leaned back on the couch and put his hands behind his head and continued, “Abdul was interrupted during his herald on Friday night and before I lost contact I was able to discern the presence of two of the senators who were investigating Abdul. So,” Horsa paused trying to contain a large smile that was coming to his face, “I sent the pentacode.”

  Hengist started shaking his head in playful disbelief, “Damn-it Horsa, two in less than a week? You are such a liability, but—a funny one I must add,” as he broke out into laugher, “What happened next?”

  Laughing, Horsa continued, “Oh, I pounced on Matthew Hector like a hyena and took a mouthful of flesh from his right arm!” now laughing even louder like a child.

  “That’s a little sick even for you.”

  “I know, I know, but here’s the best part. That Jap Shay Naoki tried to push me off and I spit Matthew’s flesh at him.”

  Responding somewhat disgusted but humored all the same, Hengist said, “Awesome. So, I’m guessing this isn’t where Abdul got put out of his misery, I can’t imagine you let Matthew over power you?”

  Horsa stopped laughing and became more sober, got up, walked to the window and continued with his back to Hengist, “Matthew didn’t kill Abdul–I don’t know who did.” He then took a long drink of his vodka and continued. “I’m sure Matthew Hector is a corpse right now after a bite like that.”

  “Well, how did it end?”

  “I’m not sure I was dispelled,” said Horsa with contempt in his voice.

  Hengist was now very confused, “What, how?”

  Horsa sat down on the couch again, setting his glass on the floor and placing his elbows on his knees, “Leroy Guiscard.”

  Hengist thought for several moments then replied slowly, “Well, well, well, Leroy Guiscard, the old bastard. Who would have thought? Although it makes sense since he is an Englishman.”

  More sober still, Horsa responded, “There’s more. That Veronica, Leroy’s secretary that took a bullet through her head?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s alive.”

  Hengist responded very slowly, “What?”

  “Abdul was only able to get me a partial herald before he was interrupted and then subsequently beat unconscious by Matthew—but I was able to learn that Leroy performed a reanimation on her. He was very unaware of how he did it to be sure, but he did it all the same.”

  Hengist now overwhelmingly disgusted responded, “So I am to be both pleased and pissed today,” as he sat down next to Horsa on the couch. They both sat in silence as Hengist worked through the implications of the probability of having a full-blooded Anglo-Saxon in their way.

  Anglo-Saxons were an ancient and very noble race renowned for unsurpassed strength both physical and mental. Physiologists considered them one of the five original noble races of the earth. The Anglo-Saxons were the first recorded pirates in the world and were successful everywhere they landed. They invaded England in the 5th century and took possession of the entire island in time, never to loose possession of it to the present day. Their intelligence, courage, size and strength combined with their cool and calculating sagacity allowed them to be distinguished as the only unconquered race on the planet. They were also a people of unwavering and ridged moral convictions. The story is told of an Anglo-Saxon woman who violated her marriage vows was compelled to hang herself and her body was then burned in public. The accomplice to her crime was then executed over the ashes. The whole nation of Anglo-Saxons for centuries manifested an unbending will. Even their females evinced the same strength and courage demonstrating that Anglo-Saxon blood lost nothing by flowing through female veins.

  Hengist, hoping for a better outcome to the incident suggested, “Perhaps Western medicine was able to revive Veronica Paige and Leroy just thought he did it?”

  “I had thought of that. Part of the herald I got from Abdul also contained a bit about Leroy wanting Theodore Schuyler to get a scrap of the carpet that had both Veronica’s and Leroy’s blood on it analyzed for DNA for some reason. So I had the carpet intercepted, it will be here today,” Horsa said with satisfaction.

  Hengist turned to Horsa and roughly grabbing his head, kissed it, “A warrior with strategy on his mind and not just blood.” Horsa smiled inwardly grateful for the complement.

  Hengist got up and walked to his desk. There was no computer on it that might have been typical in all businesses in the world—not that it was readily recognizable with the computer turned off. The computer monitor or screen had been done away with ten years ago and replaced with a holographic workspace where all office functions were manipulated in a virtual three-dimensional space.

  Hengist opened his desk drawer and took out of piece of company stationary and began writing an official executive order. “I want you to issue another harbinger to Washington without delay. We need eyes and ears there now more than ever. Have them tail that damned Committee of Leroy’s around the clock, as far as I am concerned the rest of the goings in the U.S. Senate are meaningless now.”

  “What about the Masonic Lodge my lord?”

  Hengist looked up from his writing, “I’m not sure where the my lord is coming from you today, but I must say I like it.” He smiled at him, continued his writing and then responded to his question, “No, we can forget about the Masons I think for now. In the two years Abdul has been trailing them I’ve not heard anything remotely worthy of our attention. It only appears to be a wealthy gentleman’s club without drinking or dancers,” Shaking his head he concluded, “What a waste of an evening.”

  Hengist folded up the executive order and handed it to Horsa, “I’m glad you came by I needed to talk to you about Van and Algeria before you left on your tour.” Horsa got up to take the order from Hengist’s out-stretch hand and then sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  “According to Abdul and Abednego’s last few heralds it appears we have been very successful in our troop migration into Van. The world saw it all as a refugee migration as we had hoped.”

  Abednego was a harbinger assigned to the United Nations whose her
alds were not as frequent as Abdul’s since he was 230 miles away from the Ellipse in Washington. “With the migration nearly complete, let’s reassign the disruption forces to Algeria. You can affect the changes when you arrive in Tabriz and send an emissary to Mosul with the same reassignment.”

  Just over two years ago, Toprak had deployed a skilled military taskforce made to look like group of marauding warlords to Tabriz and Mosul to harass, pillage, and kill as necessary the local populations in an effort to cause mass migration into the seeming safety of Turkey. Toprak used its political favors in Turkey to allow the migration by supplying weapons to the government in exchange. Toprak had warehouses full of weapons left over from the Russian war and in the Middle East weapons were the most valuable currency. In the process of the refugee migration, Toprak was moving military personnel that were loyal to them from the new Russian territories across Iran and into Turkey. The ruse worked according to their design without an incident since the governments of Iran and Iraq were preoccupied with their own war plans with Western Europe. Besides, rogue warlord movement was not uncommon in either country. Over the past two years, Toprak had deployed over 160,000 troops to Turkey. What was even more humorous to Hengist and Horsa was that the United Nations had sent hundreds of tons of supplies to Van to sustain the refugees, ignorant to the true fact that they were feeding an army that was about to invade Europe. In an act of good world citizenship, Toprak Esir also sent several hundred tons of supplies to Van containing within the food stuffs, small arms and other military supplies all under the noses of an ignorant world public.

  Hengist wrote another executive order about the reassignment of the displacement forces and handed it to Horsa, “As for Algeria,” he said with a heavy sigh, “Aldegund has informed me that Algiers is withdrawing from the bargaining table.”

  “That’s odd; I’ve not heard anything remotely close to that from any harbinger in Algeria,” Horsa responded with suspicion.

  “That was what I wanted to confirm with you. Aldegund has just returned from Algiers and claims that the Décideurs Council has agreed to not move forward with our financial support. He also claims that the last three council meetings were held at a secret location where he was drugged to and from the location.”

  “I find that very suspect my lord,” said Horsa shaking his head.

  “As do I, although if that is correct, the harbinger would not have known the outcome of the meetings,” said Hengist sliding back in his chair.

  Toprak did not use any communication technologies as the rest of the world so freely did. They knew how easily it was intercepted and routinely captured by all world governments and the absence of it allowed them to expand and develop their plans completely unnoticed. The problem with not using technology was the need for trust. In situations such as these, Hengist couldn’t call Algiers to confirm Aldegund’s claims.

  Algeria accepting their financial support was a critical piece of their plan since they sought to do to Algeria what they had already done to Praia; bankrupt the currency and establish their own government as the solution to the crisis. If Aldegund’s claims were true, this would complicate things when Toprak disruption forces showed up as they were scheduled to do in a months’ time as they were reassigned from Iran and Iraq. Toprak needed Algerian participation since they desperately needed to deploy troops into Morocco under the guise of refugees just as they had done in Van.

  “Is anyone on the Council fond of Aldegund?” asked Horsa working through a strategy in his mind.

  Hengist thought for a moment, “I believe he has some supporters. He has been emissary for almost two years now—why?”

  “Based upon the heralds, if what Aldegund is telling us is true, and the opposition is coming from the Council of the Nation, we may have some reverse leverage we can use.”

  The Council of the Nation was similar to the House of Representatives in the United States except they were almost always at odds with the Décideurs Council, which was where the true power of the Algerian government resided. Nothing in the heralds from the Council meetings suggested any reservation about accepting Toprak support but The Council of the Nation secretly opposed it.

  “I’m willing to bet a life that if Aldegund were to be harmed by let’s say, the Council of the Nation, it may just secure the Décideurs Council in our favor and make them decide they need more power over the Council of the Nation in a way that only financial support can do.”

  Hengist laughed slightly and remarked, “And the life you are betting is Aldegund’s.”

  Horsa smiled.

  “Well, I’m sure you have much to do before you deploy tomorrow morning, I will look forward to your report when you return.”

  Horsa nodded in agreement and got up to leave. Hengist called out to him just as he was walking out the door and turning around, Hengist said nothing but held up a hand with all five fingers extended. Horsa nodded in agreement and left the building.

  Coming to the courtyard, Horsa saw Aldegund approaching on his way to see Hengist no doubt. As they approached one another, Horsa extended his hand in fellowship and as Aldegund was about to do the same. Horsa turned his open hand into a fist and thrust it into Aldegund’s chest, breaking every rib his large fist touched. Aldegund could not cry out since his chest cavity had collapsed and he could not draw a breath. Horsa held him close in a very tight embrace with his fist still pushing into his lungs, not allowing them to fill with air and Aldegund suffocated quickly. Horsa kissed his forehead and dropped his lifeless body in the courtyard where he stood and walked toward his living quarters to prepare for his deployment. As he walked he chuckled to himself, “Negotiation is easy.”

  Hengist watched Horsa from his office window which overlooked the courtyard as he smiled and shook his head in amazement at his brother’s morbid talent for death. Just then he heard his assistant Caleb entering the room behind him and without breaking his stare and with no emotion said, “We need a clean-up in the courtyard and a shipping box.”

  “Yes my lord,” responded Caleb who knew better than to ask for details.

  Thirty minutes later Caleb returned with the shipping documents, “Who shall be the consignee my lord?”

  “This is a special gift for the Décideurs Council in Algiers but before you seal the container, place this document inside,” he said handing him a folded letter.

  “Of course my lord, and whom shall I make the consignor?”

  “Send the container by Toprak courier to Izmir then by common carrier to Algiers consigned by The Council of the Nation of Algeria.”

  Caleb confirmed his understanding with a simple nod and began collecting his papers.

  As he did, Hengist was still thinking through his plan and remembering an important element he had forgotten said, “Oh, and one more thing,” Hengist paused, thinking through his plan one more time.

  Caleb stopped what he was doing and directed his full attention to Hengist, “My lord?”

  Responding confident that his plan would work Hengist said, “Cut off Algegund’s tongue and feed it to the dogs.”

  His assistant, while not completely surprised, responded uncomfortably, “Um, yes—Yes my lord, as you wish—of course.”

  Returning to the courtyard, Caleb affixed the proper labels to the carton and before closing the lid took out a pocketknife from his front pocket. With knife in hand, he stood looking at the corpse that was once a well-known employee of the company and nervously considered what he had to do. From the courtyard, he could see the front gates and noticed that a small parcel delivery was being made by an overnight courier. Warin, the captain of the guard had signed for the package and took it in hand, walking quickly toward him. Before Caleb knew it, Warin was passing him and the carton. Warin looked at Caleb and smiled then curiously walked over to see what was inside and perhaps discover why Caleb was looking so grey.

  Seeing Aldegund gave him a start and he gravely looked at Caleb for an explanation but dared not
ask for one. At Toprak Esir, there were many rules but perhaps the most important rule was if you didn’t know, you didn’t need to know it. This simple rule kept every level of the organization functioning with exacting order and precision. Warin then saw Caleb’s small pocketknife with the blade extended and desiring to lighten Caleb’s grey complexion he said, “I believe he is already dead young Caleb, you don’t need to worry about him getting out.”

  Caleb smiled slightly, “I—um—need to, cut off its tongue.” Referring to the corpse as an it was Caleb’s way of de-humanizing the hateful thing so that he could do his bidding.

  Warin was a warrior and was not a stranger to bloodshed and bodily desecration. He had fought alongside Horsa for about half of the Russian war, the bloodiest half, but this corpse was of one of their own and it was different than mutilating the body of your enemy. Looking again at Caleb’s vehement hesitancy to cut out a dead man’s tongue, Warin stepped forward in an act of endearment towards Caleb, took out his seven inch blade and reached into the carton. Taking the corpse by the mouth and forcing it open, he grabbed hold of the semi-dried tongue, pulled it out as far as he could and sliced it off. The corpse fell back into the carton and made a muffled choking sound as air escaped through its mouth. Caleb was stunned and stood looking at the corpse as if he were a statue. Warin laughed. He put his blade back into its sheath, grabbed Caleb’s hand, put the souvenir in it then walked away.

  Warin, upon reaching Horsa’s door, straightened his uniform and ran his dirty fingers through his unkempt hair, which had little to no effect on improvement. He then respectfully knocked. Waiting for Horsa, he looked at the package again and read the words, “IMMEDIATE PRIVATE ATTENTION: HORSA” hastily written in bold letters. As the door opened, Warin stood at attention and saluted. Horsa was not a man of formality when it came to the way he treated his inferior officers, however he demanded it from them. Upon seeing Warin at attention he said, “Relax Warin, what have we got?” Warin handed him the parcel with a simple, “Sir.” Horsa was delighted to see the carpet sample arrive on time, but he said nothing to Warin and shut the door.

  Horsa took the carpet scrap immediately down to Moran, the Progeniture Proctor in one of the many labs on the Toprak Campus. Moran’s job description at Toprak was to unravel the convoluted scribble of human genealogy; a study Hengist and Horsa became very interested in during the early years of the Russian war for reasons they never had disclosed to Moran. He spent his days researching some of the oldest documents on earth and running blood tests on ancient human fragments. His lab was housed in an old lecture hall with three story ceilings which were nearly all covered with the genealogy of the human family. The hall was sectioned off in to five main groups with thousands of strings crisscrossing and inter-connecting civilizations, groups and individuals in a dizzying progeniture of noble races. Computerization would have made Moran’s task much easier but Toprak Esir had never subscribed to the technological demands of the world, just as they did not engage in modern communications.

  Horsa had already explained to Moran about the carpet scrap and the importance of comparing the blood on it with the Anglo-Saxon blood they had on hand. Horsa, upon arriving at Moran’s lab, said nothing and just handed him the carpet. Moran looked at Horsa and nodded.

  Determining blood lines for Moran was a gift but not completely unscientific. Moran began by dissolving the dried blood on the carpet scrap with blood serum, which was blood plasma but without the clotting bodies so that the blood would revive again to a semi-liquid state. Determining a bloodline match required an existing sample of the line you wanted to compare it to. In comparing an Anglo-Saxon bloodline, Moran took a scalpel and made a small cut on his finger and squeezed out a couple of teaspoons, then wrapped it in a bandage.

  The blood samples were then placed between two pieces of thin glass and pressed very tightly and clamped so that the blood was as thin as possible. Moran then placed the glass in the freezer, cleaned up and locked up his lab for the night.

  Eight hours later, the blood samples would be compared under a microscope and the blood crystals compared. If the two samples were identical, the crystals would mirror each other in exactness. If they were close but not an exact match, they would be similar in crystal formation but differ on shape and size. Moran discovered this behavior over twenty years ago at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, but while trying to publish his results he was scorned by his peers and the scientific world, mostly because no one could discern the crystalline difference as perfectly as he could and scientific theory was rooted in replicable results.

  Hengist first heard of Professor Moran’s work while working in the Turkish boron mines and when the Russian wars ended, he found Moran destitute, released from his position at Hebrew University and living in government housing in Dagenham, England. Hengist offered him a dream job, which allowed him to continue his research and was awarded a salary of 500,000 GD annually. Moran was over joyed initially but as the years wore on, he became more and more suspect of their grander plans for his work.

  Returning to the lab the following morning, Moran took the frozen samples out of the freezer and quickly wiped the frost off both sides of the glass and studied the blood samples. Taking much longer than was usually needed, he compared the two samples again and then again, first not understanding and then not believing what he saw. The two samples were identical in crystal shape which meant they were certainly the same bloodline, but the blood crystals off the carpet sample were much larger and their shape much more distinct and chiseled. The test not only proved the blood from the carpet was pure Anglo-Saxon but that it was the most pure sample Moran had ever tested. Up until today, his blood was the purest they had ever found, but now, they had a stronger sample to test other bloodlines, which could result in massive changes to Moran’s work up to this point.

  Moran ran out of his lab to find Horsa. Running up the steps to the Administration building he passed Hengist on the front steps, “What makes you in such haste this morning professor?”

  Moran, not recognizing Hengist at first was startled but then while catching his breath said, “Pardon me my lord, I have the most amazing news. I have come looking for your brother.”

  “Horsa has left, I have returned from the gates just now seeing him depart but with such amazing news, I must hear it.”

  Moran, calmer now continued, “Do you know of the carpet sample Horsa wanted tested?”

  Hengist casually sat down on the building steps and said, “I know it.”

  Moran, not wanting to be disrespectful by standing while his lord was not, took a seat next to him on the steps. “I was to test it for Saxon purity.” Hengist looked at his bandaged finger while Moran continued, “It is pure my lord, very pure indeed. The purest we have found all these years, much purer than mine.”

  Hengist was pleased with Moran’s work but hardly pleased with the results. Thinking out loud, Hengist rubbed the beard stubble on his chin, “Well, so they are both pure Saxons are they? Horsa will be most displeased.”

  “Both my lord?” said Moran unaware that there were two samples on the carpet scrap.

  Hengist patted Moran on the back thanking him for the news and said, “Go back to your lab professor.”

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