“They were crude yet powerful. They depicted a baby; a bent, old man; a man with no legs; a man nailed to a cross; a man with no eyes: a dead man."What the hell does this mean?" Russell said."Myth," Estilo said."I don't believe in myths," Russell said, turning away. He was scanning the immediate environment, a quadrant at a time.Estilo said, ''Jorge Luis Borges, our most famous poet, wrote that myth is merely reality simplified to a point where it can be understood."Russell turned around. "And y...ou believe that?"Tori, coming up to Russell, said softly, "It's important to believe it here in the field. Especially here in the jungle we don't know. It's dangerous to assume that reality and myth are two separate entities, because out here they serve the same purpose.""Why do you always feel the need to show me how superior you are?'' Russell said."Because," Tori told him, "you're a man and I'm not.""So what?""So isn't that part of why you think I 'm unreliable?''"You're out of your mind.''"Am I ?"He looked at her for what seemed a long time.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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