Herculanium (28 page)

Encircled by Biblical frescoes and murals, the St. Peregrine Dome loomed above the playing field like a giant concave saucer. It seemed almost transparent, lit only by rippling sunlight filtering through from the surface of the bay. Stretching from one end of the arena to the other, it was as if the eye of God was staring down at both fans and worshippers. Silhouettes of fish and boats quietly patterned the vista, layering the sunlight and water into a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. With the Aquathedral’s high-vaulted ceilings and multi-tiered seating, Preston almost expected angels and saints to float by and hand out programs. In his mind, he could hear Gregorian chants resonating from the hallways.

“You should see this place at sunset,” said Jayna, finally pulling Preston down the steps. “It’s quite spectacular, as if the entire ocean’s on fire.”

They wound their way through a maze of steps and balconies, before finally finding their assigned seats near floor-level. A cacophony of laughter and giggling followed them to their chairs, causing Preston to turn around and see a pleasant surprise.

An entire row of children had followed them both since they entered the dome, eager for a glimpse and an autograph.

“You’re Preston Jones, right?” asked the lead child. “The time traveler? Can I have your autograph?”

Preston smiled. “It will be my pleasure, little brother.” The other children quickly surrounded Preston and Jayna, jumping over chairs and extending their programs forward for his signature. Preston couldn’t hide the joy of finally being recognized by the truest and most sincere fans of all—children.

“Lads,” said Jayna, squeezing herself between Preston and the crowd, “this may not be the best time to do this. We’re on official business, and…”

Preston continued signing autographs, grabbing one program after another. The crowd grew larger, eventually including the parents, as well.

“I don’t know how you all recognized me," he said with a thankful grin. “I didn’t think anyone knew who I was.”

“You’re kidding, right?” said a parent. “You’re face has been all over the media the past few months. The whole world knows about you. ‘Preston Jones, time-traveling basketball star.’ Everyone was just wondering when you were going to start making appearances.”

“We’ve been traveling an awful lot,” said Jayna to the parent. “Quite honestly, we’ve been so busy touring that we had no idea how much exposure our client has been getting.”

Jayna placed her hand on Preston’s signing arm and squeezed. “Preston, I think it’s best we end this right now. It’s a security risk.”

“They’re just fans. They’re not doing anything wrong. Besides, I like this. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt good about anything.”

“You’ll get plenty of chances to sign many more autographs once this tour is over. Come along now.”

Preston continued to sign programs, scanning the fans for any outstretched hands.

“Preston,” said Jayna with uncommon authority, “I insist.”

He shook a few more hands before waving to his well-wishers goodbye. A small group of security guards promptly dispersed the crowd, creating a small perimeter around Preston and Jayna’s seats.

“That felt great,” said Preston, beaming in his chair. “I bet that’s good public relations, too. I think we should do more sessions like that. I wonder how many cameras caught all that?”

“That was very foolish,” she said, crossing her arms. “There could’ve been an incident. Someone could’ve gotten to you. What you did was a bad risk.”

“Where’s the harm? They just wanted my signature.”

“And while you’re busy signing, someone could’ve taken you out point-blank. No one here would’ve been able to get to you in time to prevent it.”

“In the months that we’ve been touring, there has not been a single attempt on my life. Not one.”

“That you know of,” she said wryly.

“I never seem to get anything right with you guys, do I? I don’t act properly, I don’t react properly; I bet I don’t even
think
properly in your eyes, do I?”

“We are simply trying to protect you.”

“But who are you really trying to protect me from? Or are you trying to protect someone
from
me? Is that it?”

“That’s nonsense and you know it. How many times are we going to have this conversation?”

“As many times as it takes. When are you people going to realize that I’m a human being? The military doesn’t own me, and I’m not government-issue. I am not property, goddamnit.”

“Preston, look at me. This is your friend Jayna you’re talking to. I am on your side, remember? Please calm down.”

“I’ll calm down only when you guys let me be me. I don’t know how to be anyone else. From the beginning, you all have been trying to mold me into some kind of poster boy for the military, and you didn’t give me a choice. The moment I show any kind of independent thought, you automatically correct me. I bet that’s why you’ve been withholding all media information from me, isn’t it? You just want to parade me around like some brainwashed trophy, saluting the flag and smiling as if it was all real.”

Jayna rolled her eyes and looked away.

“I think you’re afraid of me,” he continued. “I used to rule the world once. I think you’re afraid I might do it again.”

“Right here, right now, you and I are on a goodwill commercial tour.” She stared deep into his eyes, unflinching. “We are trying to impress upon you how far sports has come since your era. It’s true, we want you to be impressed. We want you to say, ‘Wow, you guys are a terrific lot, much better than my time.’ There, I’ve said it. Are you happy now? Does hearing that again change anything about this tour? You’ve known that from the get-go.”

Preston shook his head. “You’re missing my point.”

“We rescued you, we’ve given you food and lodging. We’ve clothed you, gave you a tour around the world for free. I think we’ve even given you a modicum of purpose of sorts. And all we ask in return is a little appreciation, a bit of flattery, and some understanding. Not much, just a bit. Yes, we are vile villains, aren’t we? Evil to the core. May we all burn in hell for all our sins against you. Father forgive us.”

“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.”

“And I don’t appreciate yours. Fine. Do as you will. If you want to sign autographs with strangers, go right ahead. Just don’t come crawling back to me if one of them draws a knife and guts you like a pig. It might be a good thing, actually. It just might do the trick of deflating that ego of yours. Go on, away with you.”

Preston thought for a moment, then stood up and walked down to the front rows. A small crowd immediately swarmed around him. Jayna casually waved off any security attempts to follow him.

The stadium began to dim into shades of its own ambient lighting. The plain green playing field remained dull and unimpressive, save the yard lines, hash marks and numbers that began to glow sharply from beneath its surface. Goal posts unfolded and erected themselves on each side of the end zone, shaped like towering fractal sculptures. With much pomp and ceremony, players and coaches from both teams were introduced onto the field, inciting a curious blend of religious fervor and fan fever. The atmosphere was almost that of a roman gladiatorial match, except held and played by the Christians themselves.

The players resembled massive gargoyles that had just climbed down from their perches above the Aquathedral rooftops. Lost beneath interconnecting layers of armor, padding and body wrap, each man’s casual movement and motion was a display of advanced hydraulics and engineering. Depending on the position they played, the athletes varied greatly in size. Linebackers, blockers and tackles were imposingly huge, as wide as they were tall, while the quarterback and his offense were slim and built for speed. The organic automatons were surprisingly agile, seemingly weightless in their battle garb.

The game got underway with the traditional coin toss and kick-off. Each down was marked on the field with a bright scrimmage line that glowed from below the turf, changing color with each possession. Every fumble and incomplete pass was indicated with a glowing spot where the ball made contact with the ground. The playing field itself measured 120 yards, but the game field was longer at 150. To compensate for this, the yard lines glowing from beneath would actually shift back and forth on the field. This allowed for punt returns and extra points to be scored by running through a gauntlet of barriers and obstacles that emerged from the ground itself.

Preston sat back in his chair and looked up at the grandeur; he had never seen an ocean sky before, and felt truly blessed for the experience. With the entire spectator seats rotating around the playing field, there was almost a tinge of divine vertigo every time one looked up. He sighed, and gently patted his bloodied lip on his left cuff. Scratch marks on his arms tore through his shirt and deep into his skin. With bruises on his shoulders and back painfully hampering his mobility, sitting still on a padded chair was just another exercise in static torture. He could feel an acute burn in his lungs, and despite his efforts to stop them, his fingers quivered uncontrollably in place.

“Are you alright?” asked Jayna with a smile, handing him an ice-filled cup of soda. “You have that crazy look in your eyes; have you even blinked in the last few minutes? I haven’t seen a face like that since I did a security stint at the Insanitarium.”

“Let’s just say I haven’t been in a street brawl in a long time.”

She smiled. “Street brawl? Those thugs are your fans! You wanted to meet your public, well there you go.”

Preston hesitantly pressed the cup against a bruise on his forehead and winced. “But I’m glad I did it. I still have fans, see?”

“About forty of your loving fans just tried to rip you apart. Next time, you listen to your bodyguard. We’re all not here for our health, you know. Apparently, we’re here for yours.”

Preston shook his head and waved his hand to dismiss the incident. “All part of the game.”

“Gratitude and ‘thank you’ just isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?”

Preston snapped his head and glared at Jayna. Where had he heard that statement uttered before?

“I think you’re getting a little weary of the tour, Preston. We’ve been gone a long while. Maybe it’s time to wrap things up.”

Preston sat quietly in his chair, still trying to recover from the mass mauling. The last thing on his mind was contemplating his future.

“Tell me,” she said with all seriousness, “have you heard of a game called…basketball?”

“You know I was the best basketball player in the world before the crash. If you’re trying to be funny, I don’t quite think you have the concept of humor down.”

“We have two passes for a game in New York City. I think we should end the tour there. What do you think?”

For the first time in months, Preston was ecstatic beyond words. His injuries instantly melted away from his battered form. With uncontrolled laughter, he turned his cup over and splashed himself on the head in celebration. He was about to throw what liquid was left in the cup at Jayna when she raised her hands in a block.

“Unless there’s something else you wanted to see, like full-contact curling or maybe concrete cliff diving?”

Preston leaned over and embraced her in a near-crushing bear hug. “Finally,” he said with a scream. “I was beginning to wonder when the hell we were going to watch a basketball game. You’re not kidding me, right? We really are going to watch a basketball game?”

“No joke, my friend. You deserve it. This has been a long time coming for you. But, as with anything in this future, it may not be what you are familiar with, or what you expect.”

“Basketball is basketball, my dear. If we can still dribble a ball and shoot it inside a hoop, it’s basketball. I’m really curious to see how my sport has evolved all these years.” Preston fell comfortably in his chair, visibly pleased with himself.

“How ironic,” she said with a sly smile. “I guess this is a homecoming of sorts for you, seeing your old profession at the end of this tour. How do you feel?”

His smile was larger and brighter than the ocean dome above them. She expected a halo of angels to appear around him, singing and rejoicing in a chorus of trumpets.

She should’ve known better than to ask the obvious.

The Celestial Bear Indian Casino Arena

New York City, New York

It felt as if he was back in space again. Millions of stars had somehow wrapped themselves around the contour form of a sprawling metropolis landscape, casting reflections and shadows against a mist that permeated the city, and kept it in a perpetual twilight. The buildings seemed almost ethereal in height and depth, textured by drizzle reflecting the indirect lighting from the bottomless streets below. Columns of light speared the skyline from all directions, creating a streaming web broken only by haloed vehicles flying overhead. From his vantage point, window-side in a 200-foot blade-span passenger helicopter, New York City was as infinitely deep as it was tall.

Preston was an astronaut again, this time flying through the heart of a man-made nebula.

Although she remained still and quiet in her seat, Preston could tell Jayna was excited to be flying over the city. It was curious to see a military security operative, who no doubt had her fair share of adventure, be enthusiastic over anything. He would catch her glancing from the corner of his eye, sneaking in a peek outside his window with coincidental opportunity, but trying her best to conceal her actions. He was tempted to blow her cover by catching her in the act, but he refrained. For the moment, her enjoyment was far and away secondary to his.

This outing was to be the grand finale of their months-long journey of discovery. He couldn’t help but have dual feelings for its conclusion; its closing not only meant the end of the tour, but the end of his immediate meaning for existing. What lay beyond it was as clear as the shimmering murk outside. Staring at the rolling lights below made him philosophize about every facet of his life, leaving him confused with questions that didn’t match his answers.