Life as a New Hire Ch. 01

She also reinforced my libido driven ambiguity – essentially she encouraged me to be a man-whore because I had a voracious sexual appetite. Thus the reason I knew I could pick up a date at any bar within five minutes. Of greater relevance was that I could tell the difference between Dorian and Attic Greek, real 19th dynasty Egyptian versus a Cairo backstreet knock-off, Old Kingdom Hittite and Gaelic Celt from the Early Roman Republic period.

This one room was worth a mint. I was brought back from my ruminations by a sublime call to order. The room grew quiet, the women stood solemnly and then Ms. Hayden St. John (aka Marilynn's Grans) began a deep intonation – a chant. Each of the elder members of the board took up the song based on seniority. When all the board members had taken up the anthem, the junior women uniformly began to sing a different song at a higher pitch.

The final refrain ended with a sorrowful echo. The women sat down and the business began. Now I knew why they didn't give a damn that I was in the room. They were talking in a language less than a thousand people worldwide probably knew – except for this crowd. The main reason was the fact this language last enjoyed mass usage during the time of the Iliad.

I knew the language because the aforementioned Archeology professor had a kink for poetry in dead languages. Her reading to me while engaging in intercourse was the erotic equivalent of the equestrian arts. My passionate reciting to her in the same tongues inspired her to a bedroom rendition of bronco busting. I had a desperate desire to establish my best poker face.

Letting any of them know I could follow the conversation seemed unwise. The first two hours of the meeting were normal corporate greed and malfeasance. I handled a call from a concerned caretaker. A nanny of one of the board members had a child come home sick. I accessed her information, contacted her pediatrician and set up the appointment in as muted voice as possible.

When they adjourned for a break, I moved next to the mother and waited to be recognized. She got around to me after she impressed upon me that I was insignificant. When she was informed of the issue, she became angry and concerned. She couldn't take my word for anything, making all those calls all over again. When it turned out to be exactly as I told her, the oddest thing happened.

"You performed admirably," she smiled and patted my cheek. Well, duh! "What is your name and who controls you?" Controls me? I didn't like that at all.

"Cáel Nyilas, Ms. Beyoncé Vincennes" (the board member's name). In this 'first name' corporate culture, I wasn't sure how to address a board member and Buffy had been of no help.

"Katrina Love is my department head," I finished.

"You seem to be very polite and useful, for a man," she kept smiling. That was nice right up to the 'for a man' part. "It was a pleasure," Beyoncé added. I thought she was about to hug me – beyond strange. Instead she extended her hand for me to shake.

This time it wasn't a mistake. I placed a chaste kiss upon her knuckles on purpose because suddenly a classically romantic gesture seemed liked the career-positive thing to do. One of the other ladies standing close by casually remarked to a companion in Old Kingdom Hittite.

"Look, she didn't have to train him, or anything."

I successfully resisted flinching as I released Beyoncé's hand and backed away. Training? If I became involved with any kind of behavioral training I was demanding a serious raise to that outrageous salary I was already getting. They finished their break in short order and returned to their meeting. The second portion was worse – much worse.

They began chatting about breeding programs, harvesting mates, selective marriages and assassinations to advance their cause. Oh My God. They were a crazed female cult trying to take over the World and my internship was a 'test case' for a new male training program. I guessed that Khalid 'washed out' and not in a good way.

I was truly tempted to whisper to Buffy that I was going to the bathroom, take the elevator, exit the building and flee. No, not flee to my apartment. I'd stop by there, but after that I'd keep going. I wasn't sure where I would stop running. These chicks were global. I'd always wanted to bike my way down the Andes. Southern Argentina looked good – just me and some penguins.

Work called and I responded. Issues were dealt with and even Buffy seemed pleased by the time lunch rolled around. The two of us checked out the servings. The individual junior members collected and inspected the plates for themselves and their seniors. We were around in case anything went wrong.

"Why did you kiss Beyoncé's hand?" Buffy addressed me out of the blue. She was almost polite.

"Did I do something wrong?" I inquired.

"It isn't what I've come to expect from you," she looked me over inquisitively. "You kissed my hand, but I discerned that you felt it was a mistake."

"You are also combative with the other new hires," she grinned, "yet you are not a suck-up as evidenced yesterday. Such a submissive gesture to Beyoncé isn't like you unless you are aiming for the stars."

"How about considering it to be a spontaneous action of respect?" I regarded her.

"Besides, I don't even know what she is in charge of," I shrugged. "I felt like doing it so I did it."

"Well, I'm impressed," Buffy smiled. "Do you want to go out for a drink or two after work?"

"It's against the rules," I reminded her.

"I won't tell if you won't," she winked.

"Doing so is wrong, I know it's wrong and that's what matters," I explained.

"Does that really matter to you?" she was back to reading my intentions.

"Yes. It should matter to you too," I said.

"Interesting," and that was that. I didn't deserve answers or explanations.

Once the plates were cleared away and any trace cleaned up, the meeting lasted for two more hours. The reason they didn't want any of this getting out to the larger world was clear. They apparently engaged in murder, slavery, and illegal genetic engineering. That was on their good days. I kept a low profile and the hope that I'd make it out of the building in one piece - until the meeting ended.

As we exited into the spacious hallway, an accident of fate took over. I was sent ahead to retrieve some parcel one board member had brought for another. Four women in front of me – two seniors and two juniors – abruptly stopped to share some joke. I stopped. The two women coming up behind me didn't, pushing me into the Indian junior member.

I immediately backed off and apologized. She turned and looked pissed. Her backhand caught me flat-footed. Cursing in Hittite, she called me a bull's buttocks then hauled off to slap me again. I took a half-step back.

"Would someone please call 9-1-1?" I announced in a loud, clear voice. "This woman just assaulted me." I was praying that, with the meeting over, they would pretend to be human once more.

No one did anything at first. The conversation muted. Not even Buffy looked like she was coming to my aid. Such is life. The junior Indian chick smiled evilly and launched her slap. Recall her backhand caught me off-guard the first time out. She swung, I blocked then shot two lighting jabs to her chin. Down she went, stunned.

The only remaining noise was me moving. I wiped off my belt, rolled the little princess onto her stomach and pulled both her arms behind her back.

"What are you doing to my *****!" shouted the Indian Senior. I started lashing junior's wrists together as I tried to reason out what that term meant. I guessed it was 'apprentice', or something close to that.

"Your unwillingness to obey the laws of the land you find yourself in doesn't concern me," I glared at India Senior. "Now I'm..." was all I got out before she kicked me. I don't mean some kind of old lady stomp. No, this was a spinning kick to the shoulder. It would have been to my head, but I almost dodged in time.

The women stepped back to give us room in the hallway to fight. More accurately, they made room so she could kick my ass. I was using boxing. She was using some sort of fluid, acrobatic style of martial arts I'd never seen before. It emphasized kicks and redirecting energy. Down I went. She began to untie her companion as I got up.

I came at her, she put a foot to my gut, followed by a palm strike to my trachea and a second one to my forehead. Down I went again, then forced my way onto all fours. This time, India Senior was waiting for me. I struck at her feebly, she knocked my arm aside then slammed her heel into the back of my skull, bouncing my head off the floor. Sadly for her, I have a really thick skull.

She had half-turned to her companion when I crawled up for more punishment. She gave an annoyed grunt and launched a kick at my ribs. Boxing hadn't worked so I went for Brazilian jujitsu, my second best martial arts style. It surprised the shit out of her. Ten seconds later I was preparing to snap her damned neck when I felt the others closing in.

"Cáel!" Buffy screamed. "Stop that right now." My sixth sense kicked in. There was no way I could win this fight with my brawn. I elected for the cerebral response. I let go of the woman and rolled away – right onto the feet of the closest female group. Odds were looking good they were about to pound on me as well.

They began chattering about what they were going to do with me. Somewhere in the process, India Senior stomped over and lashed me with the belt I'd tied India Junior with. I actually heard Buffy trying to get to my side. The problems were she couldn't understand Hittite and she was overly cognizant of the power the women pushing her around possessed.

I was giving serious consideration to letting these bitches in on the secret that I knew their lingo when I heard a different voice shout out in Hittite. It was Katrina. The outrage at what I had done and the glee about what they were going to inflict on me ceased. President – really High Priestess – Hayden St. John began to chastise Katrina. Essentially, it was my 'time' and me being out of control was all Katrina's fault.

"Cáel," Katrina commanded, "come here right now."

I stood up then stopped. For a second, I think they were confused, but soon turned angry. Bizarrely, it was Indian Senior who came to my rescue.

"He can't get to her without pushing past you, my Sisters," she said in English. They parted enough for me to slip by and that I did.

"Do you trust me?" Katrina addressed me. I nodded. "Kneel and stay at my side until I tell you otherwise." Without hesitation, I went down on one knee at her side.

"Cáel," Hayden stepped into my personal space. I looked up at her. "Why do you kneel before Katrina?"

'She's my boss' was the hollow response. The social aspects of their meeting gave me a better idea.

"Katrina chose me. I honor that by following her directions," I replied.

"Why did you attack Madi and Rhada?" Hayden interrogated me.

That had to be India Junior and Senior though which was which was beyond me.

"I'm not a kiss-ass, or a lawbreaker," I told her. "If I was supposed to let them behave in a barbaric fashion, I am sure Katrina, or Buffy, would have told me."

"Barbaric!" the junior snapped. "I'll show you barbaric, you Ass."

"Rhada," Senior placed a hand on her subordinate's shoulder. That made her Madi.

"Beg their forgiveness," Hayden directed me.

"No," I replied. By the looks of the crowd, I'd blow my last shot at freedom; maybe life.

"Why not?" Katrina tapped my shoulder.

"They made you look bad in front of Hayden," I gazed up at Katrina. "I'll apologize, but only if they apologize to you first." Clearly no one knew what to make of that.

"No, Cáel," she rubbed my head but smiled warmly doing so, "you must apologize first."

"Rhada, I..." I began.

"No, you must apologize to Madi first," Katrina directed.

"Madi, I apologize for striking your companion, for hitting you and for knocking you to the floor," I looked down at the carpet. Eastern mysticism was all about 'reverence'. I needed no prodding this time to wait for my apology to be accepted or rejected.

"This one has spirit and fights well," Madi said in Hittite. "Katrina, give this one to me and there will be no accounting of this breech."

"Buffy, what happened?" Katrina turned to her worker.

"I didn't see what participated the offense," Buffy answered. I was boned.

"I pushed him into Rhada," one junior confessed. "Madi and Rhada had stopped, the male was on an errand. He stopped, but I didn't see that until too late." I tried not to look relieved because that had been said in mystic Hittite as well.

"It doesn't matter," Rhada grumbled (Hittite). "The male touched me without permission, so I slapped him."

"You hit my male?" Katrina said in a cold, threatening tone – Hittite yet again.

"He is not your property," Rhada stated – sigh; Hittite.

"He is part of the 'New Directive'," Hayden snapped. "You initiated a fight with a male partaking in the 'New Directive' without even asking why he bumped into you?" Oh, Big Momma was pissed. Too bad they were getting pissed in Hittite.

"He's just a male," Madi pointed out. Yay, me.

"Madi, you perpetuated a fight with Katrina's male, knowing it was your apprentice's fault. What is wrong with you?" Hayden lambasted her. "You owe Katrina an apology."

"No!" Madi insisted. "The male should have taken his beatings and apologized."

That was not a good thing to say and all the ladies around me knew it. Hayden was the High Priestess. Maybe not the Goddess-Queen, but she carried the most gravitas in this circle and Madi was slyly sidestepping that. This was an ugly situation.

"Cáel," Katrina returned to English. "I need you to get up, go over to those two and beat them up for me."

This was not the solution most were looking for, me included. I'd barely beaten Madi's butt when it was just me and her. Adding her little friend would make things very tough.

"Can I ask a favor first?" I looked up at Katrina. I was now being studied by many of the women in attendance intently.

"What is it?" Katrina remained sympathetic.

"I request that Hayden give me the order so this doesn't reflect poorly on you," I stated. Now all the women were looking around. It was the answer to their conundrum. This would transform the feud between Katrina and Madi into one of Madi versus Hayden, where it really belonged.

"Cáel," Hayden commanded. "Subdue Rhada then Madi. They will fight you in single combat." Now the cultural fear set in to the crowd; not my defiance, but Madi's. I was kicking off my shoes and throwing down my coat when Beyoncé called for attention in Hittite.

"Perhaps we 'burn feathers' over this incident and commit this memory to the 'nothingness'."

"Katrina and Madi should make the appropriate offerings for peace and prosperity," Beyoncé suggested. "There is no need for anger, or debt. Let this matter pass." Since this was in a language I shouldn't know, I had to keep advancing. The two Indian women were waiting on me. The Seniors began rattling off orders, threats and suggestions as I got ready to battle.

The worst part was when I realized they'd reached a peaceful consensus yet I had to get ready to take on Rhada.

"Cáel," Katrina called to me. I twitched but kept sizing up Rhada.

"Cáel," Hayden ordered. I took three steps back. "Return to Katrina's service."

I returned to Katrina's side and stood there. I was getting the hang of this now.

"Kneel," she tapped my shoulder. She said it in Old Kingdom Hittite. I looked into her eyes. "Kneel," she repeated in English. I knelt.

"How did you train him in only two days?" Beyoncé asked Katrina – in Hittite.

"It is a matter of respect," Katrina answered. "I am giving him an opportunity and he is grateful for the chance to prove himself." Not that I 'understood' her being nice to me – almost. Absently, Katrina reached out and caressed the top of my head. While not maternal, I definitely sensed this was something she might do to a favored child.

"What of his unrestrained violence? We are already working on turning the first one docile because he could not control his crude masculine instincts. Why should we diverge from the traditional treatment with this one?" A different senior, this one Egyptian maybe – spoke in Hittite.

"Oh, really," Katrina mused – same language. "Cáel, hit Buffy," in English. Huh?

"Please explain why I would do that to one of your people, Katrina," I raised my head. That caused some murmurs.

"I wish you to do it, so hit her," Katrina insisted.

"No, that would be wrong," I kept studying my mentor.

"Fine, attack that woman over there," she pointed to the senior Egyptian.

"No, it is still wrong," I was getting worried.

"If she attacked me, would you defend me?" Katrina led me along.

"Of course," I nodded.

"Even with violence?" she inquired. I nodded. "Why?"

"You are my mentor. You've given me this chance and if it means I have to fight – I fight," I explained.

"What unrestrained violence?" Katrina stared down her Egyptian opponent - Hittite. "He is perfectly capable of understanding how and when to apply violence. When told to stop, he stops. When told to behave incorrectly, he restrains himself."

"Violence is our purview," a senior from Africa (accent suggested Cameroon) said...in Hittite.

"To let men hold the reigns of conflict is to invite disaster – again." I was getting an immersion lesson in Hittite, that's for sure.

"Cáel," Katrina's voice caught me off-guard, "did you like hitting Madi and Rhada?"

"God, no," I gulped. "My Dad would be furious with me for hitting a girl, even more for hitting two."

"Is that because you see women as weak and frail?" the Cameroon Senior addressed me in French, which my resume said I did know (along with Spanish and Russian).

"Women are smaller and weaker than men," I responded. That didn't go over well.

"Do you think we are small and weak?" Hayden asked.

"No," I smiled, "I look around this room and all I see is a host of Amazons." And then it all made sense. The women all stared at me intently trying to determine if I could have possibly pierced their veil of secrecy.

"Amazons?" Hayden prodded me – in Hittite. I looked at her but didn't reply.

"Amazons?" she repeated in English.

"Yeah – Amazons," I grinned. "Like Wonder Woman." There as an infinitesimal relaxation around me. They weren't opposed to disposing of me. Their worry was that if some jack-ass from Bumfuck Nowhere had stumbled up their true identity, other, far more competent agencies could as well.

Instead, I had simply tossed a word in common usage out there, like that legion of chimps writing Shakespeare. A DC comic heroine had convinced them I knew nothing.

"We have wasted enough time on this matter," Hayden intoned with authority. The women started to disperse. Katrina had to stay behind to deal with Madi and Rhada.

"Buffy, take Cáel to my office and don't let him leave. Take care of him," Katrina commanded.