Herculanium (22 page)

The two walked nearly the full length of the hall before stopping at an open door on the left. Brass poles draped with a thick velvet rope kept these doors propped open, giving the room an almost dignitary poise. Preston walked ahead of Jayna the moment he saw the seemingly official entrance, smiling that this might be his room.

“I guess someone was expecting me.” He ran his finger down the length of the velvet rope, a ritual he often did at big social functions.

“Who put that there?” said Jayna in outward irritation. “Damned janitors; I swear you can’t get good help nowadays. What is the world coming to?” She quickly unhinged the rope and picked up the poles, resting them against the wall just outside the door. With playful exaggeration, she bowed her head and stretched her arms to her side.

“Your castle awaits.”

Preston entered the room, half-expecting the furniture to be futuristic constructs he had dreamt about as a boy. Surely if they were acclimating him to his future, it stood to reason that it would begin at home—his home.

But there were no hover-chairs, 3-D televisions, or robotic helpers in this new place. A couch, a loveseat, and a small television set greeted him with mute applause. The living room, complete with potted plants and a fireplace, felt really cozy—if one lived on a farm in the mid-1970’s. A single window cast a second shadow besides the torch-lamp lighting, and two entryways led to what he presumed were the bedroom, kitchen and bath.

It was a disappointingly comfortable and ordinary apartment unit.

“Well?” asked Jayna with enthusiasm. “What do you think? Impressive, yes? Our team went all out in recreating a flop from your time. I bet it feels just like home.”

“Yes,” said Preston with a hesitant, almost robotic, tone. “Like home.” He didn’t have the heart to spoil her demeanor and hurt her feelings.

“I think it’s grand. I told you you’d like it!” She followed Preston closely as he entered the living room. He paused at the room’s center, slowly panning his glance from one end of the room to the other. Without looking at her directly, he could tell she was examining and anticipating his reaction.

“Your luggage is inside the bedroom.”

“But I didn’t bring any with me.”

“We’ve already provided a wardrobe for you. Towels, toiletries, everything you need is inside their proper compartments.”

“I’m asking again, what’s gonna happen next? I’m just supposed to wait here until you people tell me where to go?”

“Late lunch will be served downstairs in half an hour. I’ll explain everything to you then.” Jayna stared unmoving at Preston’s eyes.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve heard that. I hope I wouldn’t have to call you another liar.”

“Preston, I’d like to think you and I are becoming fast friends. You are in a complicated situation, and I am here to help. You’ve had mixed company prior to my being assigned to you, and I am very sorry for that. But I’m here now. The best I can give you is the best I can be. I will do my best to help you. I can’t go beyond that.”

Preston nodded his head in pensive acceptance. Jayna smiled in relief.

“Excellent,” she said. “One of the stewards will escort you down to the dining area when the food is ready.”

“Nope. I want to eat here, with you. I don’t want to be eating while surrounded by bodyguards. I just want you and me on that dining room table, talking our hearts out.”

“But I don’t think…!”

“There’s no discussion. If we don’t eat up here, I’m not going to go down there. In a few days, you guys will just have another corpse to parade around.”

“Very well,” she said with a loud exhalation. “I’ll see what I can arrange. This is completely out of the norm. My, you’re a demanding lot, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a puppet, I’m a man. And I’ve sure as hell have given you more respect that you all have given me.”

“Dinner will be served in 45 minutes, then. I’ll have to make special arrangements.” Jayna exited the door without glancing back.

“I’m sure you will,” Preston said as he followed her out. “And thank you.”

Time passed quickly from the time of her leaving to the arrival of the food. Preston took the short moment to explore each of the rooms of his new domicile, opening drawers and closets, even running the water and flushing the toilet to make sure they all worked. His new wardrobe caused him to wince; all of his shirts and trousers were banded with corporate logos and slogans. In one form or another, he thought to himself, he was still a commercial figure.

The food was wheeled in on rattling silver push trays a short time later. As Preston and Jayna took their respective seats across from each other, stewards carefully arranged the food on the dining table. In a heartbeat, the tabletop was a landscape of rainbow salads, sodas, pastas and meats, prepared and cooked using the latest innovations in molecular gastronomy. Preston waited for the stewards to leave before attempting to taste the new foods. Jayna sat back with a smile, amused at the sight of him cautiously going from one dish to another. Throughout his experimenting, Preston maintained an air of dignity about him, not willing to embarrass himself in front of his host.

The first half of the meal was spent in silence, a combination of tasting new foods and the awkwardness of initiating casual conversation. At times, Preston would loudly smack his lips as he chewed his food, his own feeble attempt to break the thick silence in-between gulps.

“I like the shrimp,” he said. “They’re really plump and scrumptious.”

“That’s not shrimp you’re eating,” she said with a smile. “It’s fresh locust. And yes, they are quite lovely. If you like that, I’m sure you’d love rhinoceros beetle sashimi. It’s all the rave.”

“This tastes like chicken,” he said with a quivering voice. “Oh, who am I kidding? This tastes like shit.”

Jayna’s laughter erupted like a volcano. Preston casually covered his mouth with a napkin and spewed the food under cover of palm and cloth. There were very few places to hide discarded food on such a small table.

The awkward moment was the perfect transition to breaking the silence and speaking their peace. The coyness of the waiting game had run its course.

“I’m all ears,” said Preston, staring at her unblinkingly.

“Where should I begin?” responded Jayna.

“From the beginning?”

“The beginning of the world, or the beginning from your death?” If anything, she had a rapier wit.

“Why don’t you start from where I left off, where I literally fell off the page? Finish the sentence, ‘After Preston died, the world’…did what?”

“History doesn’t begin nor end. It simply moves on. No singular event stands by itself; it’s a culmination or bi-product of supporting and interlacing incidents that continue to resonate forward, in infinite directions.”

Preston rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me; you were a history major, right? That’s why you were assigned to me?”

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.”

“I see. Why don’t you give me a condensed version of history? Nothing too deep, but something I can easily digest. I don’t want to hear long explanations or theories about obscure events or references. Bullet-list it for me, quick and easy.”

“You’re not being fair, you know.” Jayna placed her utensils down, bracing and folding her hands beneath her chin. She took a few seconds to find the right words for her opening statement.

“Since your…passing, we’ve had two police actions, a near world war, multiple epidemics, continental drift, as well as three severe bouts of cannibalism. The population has nearly tripled since your lifetime. And—oh, yes—there are still assholes like General Cube around.”

“That sounds like world history I can relate to. What happened here in America?”

“By your definition, we’re not the ‘America’ you’re familiar with. In your absence, we’ve included 70 states, annexing parts of both old Canada and Central and South America. There are a few renegade states, but they’re few and far-between.”

Preston sat quietly in his chair, taking his time to absorb the supposed truth that Jayna was explaining to him.

“So many things have been invented,” she continued. “There are just too many to mention. You’ll have to see them in turn as you encounter them personally.”

“I can’t wait. I imagine you guys wouldn’t be keeping me in the dark for much longer.”

“Tell me,” she said after quietly sipping her glass, “have you ever wondered why people have been calling you ‘soldier’ all this time? And why everything around you is so…military?”

“That’s exactly the explanation I’ve been waiting for. People have continuously labeled me ‘soldier.’ But I’m not a soldier, I’m an athlete.”

“Actually, in this world, they’re not too far off.”

“They’re the same?”

Jayna’s demeanor quickly changed, going from one of playfulness to that of a college professor. Although her gaze was fixed squarely on Preston, it seemed as if she could see the very events she was explaining unfolding before her eyes. She appeared to be almost travelling through time.

“About eighty years ago, the American Military did something quite unprecedented. There was a massive build-up of both domestic and international terrorism. A hundred-plus years of peace left a scaled-back military nearly defenseless. Men, women, and children were dying by the thousands. To re-ignite the flames of patriotism and a more powerful military, the Armed Forces initiated the most logical—if controversial—recruiting program in history. Thus, Combattra was born.

“In an effort to recruit more soldiers to enlarge the military and protect the nation’s interests, a sports branch of the military—Combattra—was created. You can play your favorite sport and protect your country simultaneously. In time, Combattra either wiped out or annexed all existing amateur and professional sports. Other nations adopted the idea, so now we have worldwide competition all year long. There is still crime and violence, but for the most part, everything is settled on some playing field or competition.”

“That’s why they assumed I was a soldier? Because I’m a basketball player?”

“The only athletes not associated with the military are with the Prison Leagues. While there is inter-penitentiary competition, it’s mostly underground and unsanctioned.”

“That’s great news,” Preston said with a smile. “Sports is dominating the world. Finally, athletes are getting the recognition we deserve.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge, my friend. The sports in this era is markedly different than what you played in yours.”

“I really don’t care, just as long as people are resolving their differences through peaceful means.”

Jayna paused before continuing, trying to read Preston’s thoughts behind his words. It was clear they were from two different worlds and mindsets.

“It is a violent place we live in,” she asserted. “There’s an old historical term that fits today’s competitions. I believe it was…‘blood sport’? Rules banned or considered illegal were reinstated. The violence and mayhem that the military wanted to eliminate from the world turned about and corrupted the military itself.

“Genetic selection, performance enhancing drugs, cross-cloning organs and limbs, have all been legalized. At times, I can’t even tell where the line for the person ends and the augmentation begins. We’re more monster than athlete.”

“You’re being too harsh.”

“And maybe you haven’t been around enough to know any better?” Jayna felt insulted at Preston’s judgment of her conclusion.

“Something must’ve triggered all this,” he said, trying to introduce a neutral viewpoint. “Why the slant towards violence?”

“It all began with this.” Jayna reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a pliable ball of putty. “Everything, all the violence you see around you, is because of this compound.”

Preston took it from her hand and examined it closely, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. “It looks like a big ball of snot. ‘This’ caused all the violence in this world?”

“That wad you’re holding is pure Herculanium. You should be familiar with it; it was developed from the space station you crashed from.”

“What makes it so special?”

“It’s the most dense artificial substance ever developed in history. It’s lightweight, flameproof, virtually resistant to all forms of impact. That piece you’re holding can stop a bazooka shell, and it has a life span of half a million years.”

She could tell from Preston’s face expression that he still wasn’t getting her point.

“It was dubbed the ‘wonder alloy,’” she continued. “It replaced all forms of rubbers and plastics and glass. It first came in toys and board games. One day, just for the hell of it, a man named Norman McCord fabricated a football uniform made of ‘H’. The rest is history. Once corporations discovered how dense the material was, and how much impact the human body could take simply by wearing it, people wanted to push it to its limit. That brought out the carnal side in all of us.”

Preston shook his head. “I can’t imagine what you’re saying. I guess I’ll have to see it all for myself. How does General Cube fit into all of this?”

“General Mason Cube is the Armed Forces liaison to the World Sports Tribunal, the ruling body of all competition. Judge, jury and jailer, everything goes through them. They try all the cases, rule over all victories and losses, create and delete teams, even market merchandise to the world. It’s almost a bloody secret society of suits, led by a Judge Silas Thorne.”

“How do
I
fit in this world?” asked Preston with concern. “What am I to you guys?”

“It’s your world also, my friend. And to answer your question, I honestly don’t know. You’re an anomaly, a throwback, maybe a lost gem, a messiah, even a threat. I know the Judge is aware that a man from another period is here. It’s just a matter of time before you meet him.”

Jayna continued to eat her meal, seemingly taking time to recover from her own explanation before returning her gaze to Preston. Preston couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“What’s your story? A British accent in an American uniform? How did you end up on our side of the pond?”

“No great mystery. I signed up for the exchange program early on in my career. I thought life outside the UK and the European Union would be more interesting. I can go back anytime I want, but all the action seems to be here of late.”