Myths of the Modern Man

MYTHS OF THE MODERN MAN

by Jacqueline T. Lynch

Kindle Edition

Copyright 2011 Jacqueline T. Lynch

All rights reserved by the author. Unauthorized copying is prohibited.

CHAPTER 1

Colonel John Moore’s newest obsession: watching the thin trickle of blood from Brian K. Yorke’s lip. Seconds ago Moore had kicked him in the face, having observed Yorke’s vulnerability. Vulnerability appealed to Moore. It was such a useful gauge for so many things.

Yorke, despite being the stronger, younger man, held no advantage over John Moore’s powers of observation. Moore knew when to plant his foot on Yorke’s sternum and when to put his thumb in Yorke’s eye. Recognizing vulnerability was sometimes secondary to causing it.

Moore thought of his rival as “Brian K. Yorke,” always by his full name, perhaps because that was how Yorke introduced himself to people, and was meticulous about putting his rank of Colonel first. Moore cared nothing for rank.

Yorke reared in pain like an animal from the thumb in his eye, and angrily flailed at Moore, pushing him against the wall of the cell, thrusting Moore’s head against it. Moore, despite his near-concussion, knew he had him then. Yorke had thrown his whole powerfully built body against Moore, allowing Moore to plant his knee in Yorke’s groin, his hands on Yorke’s neck, and his celebrity in Yorke’s face.

The personnel standing on the mezzanine above them watched, businesslike in their lack of emotion. Moore’s and Yorke’s demonstration appeared to them to be done in silence, due to the soundproofing of the cell in which they fought, separated by the clear resin ceiling from the arena-like observation deck. Dr. Eleanor Roberts watched, along with her colleagues Dr. C.C. Ford, and General Andrew English. There were others present at this demonstration who Dr. Roberts did not know, from the Committee most probably, she guessed, though they had not yet been introduced to her. The other figure she knew only by reputation and from the photo on her press kit bio.

Her first glimpse of Dr. Cheyenne L’Esperance surprised Eleanor. More than the woman’s tall, graceful, rather muscular and athletic figure, Eleanor was taken by the unexpected reactions of this newcomer. While all others watched the fight below with quiet, detached interest, and Eleanor herself felt not a little boredom over it; after all, it would not affect the ultimate decision of the Committee because that had already been made, she was assured -- Dr. L’Esperance openly wept.

The others noticed her crying as well, exchanging uncertain, embarrassed glances. They politely looked away out of what could only have been respect for Dr. L’Esperance’s reputation and abilities. Surely even a genius was capable of some faults, and this must account for such a formidable scientist making a complete ass of herself in public.

Eleanor could not help but feel secretly pleased at the discovery of her rival’s weakness. She was certainly a rival. Of that much Eleanor was sure, though nobody said anything to her about it, not yet. There had been no surprise interoffice memos or grave meetings with the Committee to officially notify her that she would be monitored by this newcomer, perhaps even be expected to share authority with her. Still, Eleanor owned up, because she liked to face facts, that Dr. L’Esperance was nothing if not a rival.

From the confines of his cage, John Moore glanced up from his opponent’s long-hoped for collapse and let his gaze wander on all the faces above, beyond the clear resin, sound-proofed ceiling. He felt momentarily like an insect that has been caught by a child and placed in a glass jar for inspection. Like a firefly that he used to catch on his father’s front lawn on summer nights as a boy. Or were he and Brian K. Yorke crickets, where one always eats the other if left alone overnight in the child’s jar, and the child inevitably wonders the next day why there is only one bug left in the jar when he distinctly remembers putting two in there.

Moore searched instinctively for Eleanor’s face. He spotted her, but she was not looking at him. He noticed her expression of incredulity approaching sarcasm, and followed her gaze over to the tall dark-skinned woman with her hand wiping tears from her eyes. Moore, like Eleanor, was also struck by the unknown woman’s evident distress, so out of place in this environment. Their eyes met, and she seemed to nod to him with something like sympathy and understanding, an action also out of place here. He put his hands on his hips, grinned and nodded back.

Soon the observation mezzanine cleared as the audience drifted away, and Moore brought his attention back down to Yorke, who sat up now, his breathing heavy, rhythmic, his face glistening with sweat and soiled with his own blood. The orbital areas around his eyes began to swell slightly. Moore extended his hand to Yorke.

“
Want to go for a beer?” He was being only slightly sarcastic.

Yorke pulled himself up, using the wall as a support. He licked the blood off his lip.

“
Let’s not make friends, Moore,” he said, not disguising his weariness. “One of us is going to die.”

Moore understood that Brian K. Yorke was not necessarily referring to which of them chosen for the mission. The man left behind in the safety of this complex was hardly safe from death, either. His career certainly would be over, at least.

“
I’ve misjudged you. You have more on the ball than I thought.”

“
Thank you.” Yorke, after a confused moment, found the door out.

***

“
D-Day minus one,” General English said as he approached Dr. Eleanor Roberts, clapping his hands together. He beamed from Eleanor to Dr. Ford and gestured with his glance over to the unknown man talking with members of the Committee, who had stood by his side at the observation deck.

“
So far, so good,” General English said.

“
General, who is that gentleman?” Eleanor asked. Ford’s eyes darted from Eleanor to General English. General English sized Eleanor up before speaking, something he inevitably did before speaking to anyone and she had long since stopped taking it personally.

“
My guest. Possibly my eventual superior,” he said, sounding ominous. “That is all I am at liberty to say. You’re aware there is a bit of shuffling going on? Well, consider his presence among us as evidence that we are attracting notice, people, important notice.” He said this with a note of pride, and brightened, and Ford smiled courteously. Eleanor did not smile. She did not like mysteries.

“
As soon as Accommodations is finished with Dr. L’Esperance, I’ll introduce you.” General English continued, “It’s about time you met, Eleanor. You’ll be working closely. You have a lot in common.”

“
Do we?”

“
Well,” he said, in awkward effort to be jovial, “you’re both women for a start.” Dr. Ford smiled with his customary unrelenting courtesy at General English again. Eleanor wondered what beyond breasts and ovaries General English thought she and Dr. L’Esperance possibly had in common. He would not elaborate, but perhaps he could not. His thinking really was rather limited and always had been. Why he had been chosen to head this fledging department she could only guess. His relative ignorance and lack of imagination for her work had thus far proven fortunate; it kept him largely out of her way. Lately, though, he was taking far too close an interest for her to be comfortable. She liked her independence.

“
Dr. L’Esperance will be staying on site, then?” Dr. Ford finally spoke up, pleasantly, as he always did everything pleasantly.

“
Yes,” General English replied, “although down the road she may have other plans. At least right now she prefers to arrange for quarters in the compound. It will certainly keep her close to things.”

“
I hope she did not find the exhibition between Colonel Moore and Colonel Yorke too distressing?” Eleanor’s pointed inflection was obvious even to General English.

The general’s expression clouded over and he cleared his throat.

“
One of course forgets the sensibilities of outsiders. She will lose some of her…sensitivity in time and become a very valued member, I’m sure.”

“
I’m sure,” said Dr. Ford.

“
I’m sure,” said Eleanor. “By the way, General, I’m not too clear myself on the purpose of the demonstration. Surely this close to mission time the candidates should not have risked injury. This didn’t have anything to do with the ultimate decision of who would be in the field? Surely, the Committee has already made that judgment based on criteria, not some silly staged fight.”

“
Let me tell you something about criteria sometime, Eleanor.” The avuncular persona reappeared.

“
It carries the day only to a point. When the chips are down, you need a man who can think fast and fight like hell. Mathematics and what all don’t count.”

“
Then if Colonel Moore was the winner of the fight, are you seriously going to place him first above Colonel Yorke, whose profile is far superior? Based on what?”

“
Criteria, Eleanor, criteria,” General English whispered like a conspirator, winked and stepped briskly away, spotting Dr. L’Esperance down the hall in the act of being about to get lost in the maze of corridors.

“
What do you think, seriously?” Eleanor said in sotto voice to Dr. Ford as General English strode over to shepherd Dr. L’Esperance.

“
Well, I can’t help but think her living here is a big mistake. The apartments here are dismal. Just being on site is like being in jail. I’m glad when I can pass through the gates every evening and get the hell out of here.”

“
Not about her living here,” Eleanor said, not bothering to disguise her irritation. “I mean about what part she plays in all this.”

“
She’s only here to observe.”

“
I don’t believe that.”

“
What do you think?”

“
I don’t know. I wondered if you knew anything more than I did.”

“
That’s not very likely.” Dr. Ford’s face lit up with his practiced pleased expression when General English escorted Dr. L’Esperance toward them.

General English stopped short in front of them, nearly with a hint of a soldierly clicking of his heels, and nodded to Dr. L’Esperance, who had evidently washed her tear-stained face in the interim, and appeared composed and cordial.

“
Dr. Eleanor Roberts, Dr. C.C. Ford, may I present Dr. Cheyenne L’Esperance?” He said, “Dr. L’Esperance, Dr. Ford is the chief coordinator of ancient studies, and Dr. Roberts is our top physicist, directing this mission.”

Dr. L’Esperance beamed at the two of them, though seemed not to notice their extended hands awaiting the inevitably required handshake. Instead, she cupped her hands on either side of Dr. Ford’s face and drew him to her, warmly kissing him on both cheeks, and then enveloping him in a gentle hug, holding him closely against her body.

“
Dr. C.C. Ford,” she said, “I am pleased to meet you.” Her voice low, soft and sounding vaguely musical.

Eleanor’s surprise at the sight kept her from realizing she was momentarily to receive a similar reception, which she woodenly withstood when Dr. L’Esperance kissed her and embraced her, fairly cooing,

“
Dr. Eleanor Ford, I am happy to meet you.”

General English glowered at the floor again, evidently not surprised at Dr. L’Esperance’s style of greeting, but clearly disapproving. Perhaps he, too, had previously received such a greeting from her.

“
Perhaps you could show her the lab, Eleanor,” he said, “and then Dr. Ford can explain the mission parameters in more detail.”

“
I read your synopsis, Dr. Ford,” Dr. L’Esperance said, “and was very much intrigued.”

“
Thank you.” Dr. Ford beamed. He was the only one who seemed quite pleased with her.

“
Should we introduce Dr. L’Esperance to the two candidates, General?” Eleanor asked the question with what all save Dr. L’Esperance perceived were wicked intentions.

“
I can ascertain if they are fit to receive visitors after their fight.”

Dr. L’Esperance lowered her eyes with an expression of pain.

“
No. You may familiarize her with their histories, if Dr. L’Esperance feels she might gain from that information. Otherwise there is no need to expose her to the operatives. Thank you.” General English strode off in a hurry, perhaps, Eleanor wondered, to avoid any emotional goodbye ritual Dr. L’Esperance might practice.