The Authorities™ (The Authorities, #1)

by Scott Meyer

Rutherford stood in the hallway, trying to exude authority. It was not easy. The house naturally drained the dignity from anyone who came inside. Even the mildew seemed embarrassed to be seen there.

Despite outward appearances, he hadn’t gained confidence. He’d simply become desensitized to this specific type of embarrassment. He wondered if that was all confidence was in the first place.

The alley was dark, dank, and cluttered with trash. The odor wafted out and thrust itself up Rutherford’s nose. It smelled exactly like a filthy wet alley. Rutherford appreciated the odor’s honesty.

He rose through the ranks until he was recruited to the Dutch Secret Service, the AIVD, which stood for a series of consonant sounds so discordant that Rutherford’s ears couldn’t parse them as human speech, instead leaving him with the mental impression that Max’s tongue and teeth were fighting.

“So is Sigmund Freud,” Max said. “He was actually an MI6 agent, set up with a false identity. Think about it, who better than the most prestigious psychoanalyst in all of Austria to feed useful intelligence back to Queen and country at that point in history? The cream of Germanic society was lining up to tell him their deepest secrets. All of his nonsensical sexual theories were simply a means to steer his clientele in the most compromising directions.”

Max said, “I’ve seen you in a violent situation, and that’s not true, but if it were, it might be because you have experience cringing. That’s what’s in your muscle memory.” The room fell silent as Rutherford, Albert, and Sherwood thought about the implications of what Max had just said. Everybody could think of at least one occasion on which they’d acted less brave then they might have liked. The idea that these failings were attributable to a learned response and not an inherent weakness was both empowering and depressing. Rutherford thought, Is cowardice a habit? And if it is, am I brave enough to break it?