Myths of the Modern Man (32 page)

“
It is another matter that I wish to discuss with you,” Cheyenne said. “It is quite common knowledge that there are twice as many women as men in the earth’s population, isn’t it?”

“
It’s discussed in scientific circles. I don’t know how obsessed the general population is by it; they’ve got so much else to worry about. The earthquakes and tsunamis make for better news footage.”

“
But, males are more prized because of it, are they not?”

“
Prized, coveted, I don’t know. Some men enjoy a sexual freedom because of it that did not quite exist at one time, to these extremes.”

“
Dr. Ford enjoys such freedom?”

“
I don’t know. I suppose.” She sighed her irritation.

“
Yes, of course he does. Look, Cheyenne, I have no claim on the man. He and I have had a relationship of sorts, yes. But, we’re both free to find other partners. To be frank, I was more upset about your encroaching upon my lab than upon him.”

“
Finding other partners is easier for him than for you. Statistically.”

“
Statistically, yes. Perhaps I appeared jealous. I’m not.”

“
And your feelings for Colonel Moore?”

“
Why? Do you want him, too?”

“
He is the better man.”

“
Good lord. You are something. If you’re trying to sort out whether you’d be trespassing on my territory by dating my time traveler…you already have trespassed on my territory by taking over my lab and my project.”

“
It would have failed if I had…”

“
All right! I messed up. Thank you for saving the day. Now, go ahead and take your reward, whatever prize, whichever rag doll from the carnival pegboard you want. I’m beyond caring.”

“
I hope that is not the case, Eleanor. To be beyond caring is to die. And you are a survivor.”

Her eyes followed the mounds and hollows of the blanket up John Moore’s body to his placid, gray, swollen face.

“
So is Colonel Moore.”

Eleanor’s eyes also darted to John Moore’s face, then back to Cheyenne’s.

“
I think I see. This is more than sexual attraction for you,” Eleanor said. “You’ve got something else in mind. Cheyenne, what is the male to female ratio in your time?”

Cheyenne, still looking at John Moore, smiled with sadness curiously almost beatific. She looked back at Eleanor.

“
There are two males for every one hundred females.”

“
Oh, my lord.”

“
The overwhelming absence in most cases of the Y chromosome almost certainly guarantees that any child born of a union between a man and a woman will be a female.”

“
Humankind is dying out because of the absence of the Y chromosome? And here we are getting in a snit about earthquakes and wars. The joke’s on us.”

“
We augment the population as best we can. Cloning. Some artificial insemination, but that almost always produces female offspring as well. The time-trips I mentioned to you earlier, they are not only used for vacations or adventures, but for impregnation.”

“
Sex trips? I must not be beyond caring after all. I actually find that interesting. Well, some of my best vacations included seduction.”

“
However, this is has not made much of an impact. In fact, some of our sparse native male population are leaving us, taking time-trips to escape a world in which they have little male companionship or bonding. For them, in our world it is not a life of sexual freedom, but in which they are subjected to being held so precious that they are almost imprisoned by their value.”

“
Run that by me again.”

“
Excuse me? I did not understand. What is run by?”

“
Repeat.”

“
They feel they have become like property.”

“
And do you intend to bring back Colonel Moore and make him your property? Dr. Ford would be much more willing.”

Cheyenne looked thoughtful.

“
You are probably correct.”

“
I really don’t know what to make of you, Cheyenne. I never know when you’re kidding or not.”

“
Kidding?”

“
Forget it.”

“
But, you see, Colonel Moore is in the greater danger. He is a hero, not only to your time, but to the future. Heroes are always exploited for some reason.”

“
Then your intention is not to capture him to bring him to the future as a stud animal?”

“
I would protect him from that, if I could.”

“
Very noble. So, you’re just going to have sex with him here?”

Cheyenne actually looked surprised. Eleanor almost laughed, but was too tired, and knew she’d have to explain why she was laughing to this woman who had no clue about why people did anything they did.

Cheyenne looked long at the blanket-covered body before them again as she answered.

“
There is also exploitation by the Committee, and by the public, who would themselves wish to own and exploit Colonel Moore for their celebrity fascination. We must protect him, you and I. We are the only ones who can.”

“
Suppose he doesn’t want to be protected.”

“
Likely, he will not.”

“
And then how do we protect him?”

“
Send him on another mission. Send him back to the past where he may be in the companionship of other men who will force him to survive. Only there, will he be safe.”

“
The only time he wants to return to is the 1st Century AD, to be with that slave woman.”

“
You must not send him there. In his emotional state, he will deliberately lose himself in that time, we will lose him forever, and that will have a terrible impact on the future.”

“
You haven’t told me why he’s so important to the future.”

“
No. I have not.”

“
I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

“
You are already in the dark, Eleanor. Your whole culture is in the dark, but you will help change that. So will Colonel Moore. In time. You each have a very special place in determining the future.”

Eleanor thought of Cassius’ jokes about creation myths, about Eleanor in her white lab coat being the object of a future creation myth. She shuddered. She did not want to be the founder of a new civilization.

Cheyenne extended her arm across John Moore’s legs, inviting Eleanor to take her hand.

“
We must guard this man, Eleanor. We must be his protectors, but he must never know how vulnerable he is. Will you help me?”

“
Everything you’ve said, everything you are, Cheyenne, is an almost inconceivable mystery to me.”

“
You must trust me.”

“
I have trusted no one on my own private road to success, and…”

Eleanor interrupted herself choking on a weak laugh that died in her throat.

“…
particularly where women are concerned.”

“
You must learn to trust me.” Cheyenne said, sweetly adamant, and Eleanor sensed would continue to be so.

More with resignation than willingness, Eleanor touched her hand against the soft, warm skin of Cheyenne’s larger hand.

John Moore continued to sleep under sedation, dreaming of another world, of two women who were opposites in nature, while quite oblivious to the two other women, opposites in nature and appearance, who between his legs, held each other’s hands.

The End.

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