It’s a Queen’s game

LONDON ( Chapter 3)

Johnny’s phone alarm rang; it was still pitch black outside. Sleepy and aching, he sat up in the bed, looking at the clock — 4:05. He had over an hour before his training session with the “feisty Gazelle” and grabbed a book from the top of the pile and began to read:

“In the older view, the goddess Universe was alive, herself organically the Earth, the horizon, and the heavens. Now she is dead, and the universe is not an organism, but a building, with gods at rest in it in luxury: not as personifications of the energies in their manners of operation, but as luxury tenants, requiring service. And Man, accordingly, is not as a child born to flower in the knowledge of his own eternal portion but as a robot fashioned to serve.”

Already parts of his cerebellum were reawakening with the new sights, sounds, and experiences. Like any new job, there is always a learning curve, but this seemed more like a reconditioning, and it invigorated him. He was trying to concentrate on the literature, yet visions of Miss. A kept flashing into the mind’s eye. She was alluring and captivating in a way he couldn’t pinpoint. Above the apparent beauty and charisma, she expounded undisputable control over those nearby that he could not quite conjecture.