YOUTH AND SKILL

by K. Jeffery Petersen

David stares at the white sheet of paper before him. The pencil in 
his hand hovers a few inches away, quivering back and forth 
slightly. He flicks his eyes up over the edge of the drafting 
table. The other scientists wait expectantly. Most have impassive 
expressions on their faces. Except for Robert, who’s mouth upturns 
slightly on the right side.

He knows this is not fair. He has researched extensively for his 
position. He knows he is right and Robert is wrong. The others 
should know it as well. It’s so obvious, if only they were smart 
enough to see it.

"David?" someone asks, "We’re waiting." His eyes dart from face to 
face, but they all remain impassive.

"He’s chickening out," Robert says.

Dr Moraine steps forward. "Oh, but David insisted," he says, 
placing a hand on David’s shoulder. 

It feels intrusive to David, he wants to shrug it off. He looks 
out at the scientists, a pack of wolves waiting to pick at him, 
and then over at Moraine’s claw on his shoulder. He cannot escape 
them now.

Robert waves a hand. "He’s out of it." Mutely the other scientists 
shuffle out of the room. Robert watches them go and shifts his 
gaze over towards Dr. Moraine.

Nothing happens for a moment. David, caught between the two, 
starts to gasp his breaths. He feels like a deer caught by a wolf 
on one side, with a hunter on the other.

Then Moraine’s hand pulls away. He nods once then strides out of 
the room.

Robert drags a chair around next to the drafting table, its legs 
screech across the tile floor. He straddles it backwards, one arm 
hugging the back to his chest. "Fell apart for you?"

David tries to speak, nothing beyond a shadowy whisper emerges 
from his throat.

"I knew it would."

"But... but I’m right," David forces the words out. They grate 
against his throat.

Robert nods. "I’m sure you are. So was the last guy in here before 
you, and the one before that. And so on. I’ve seen tons of boys 
here who were ‘right’."

"You’re wrong about this!" David stabs the pencil down on the 
paper. The tip shatters. Color returns to his voice with the 
conviction.

Robert puckers his lips. "That’s possible. You won’t know it, 
though, unless you can prove it." He reaches out and taps the 
paper in front of David. "But you won’t do it here alone, no 
matter what you think."

"Then what does it take?" David feels the heat rising in his 
cheeks.

Robert stands up. "That, David, is why you’re here, in this little 
boondock lab rather than on some hot shit assignment you think you 
deserve." Robert walks away. At the door he pauses. "Think on it. 
You’ll figure it out." 

With a smile, he flips the light switch, bathing David in 
darkness.