Herculanium (32 page)

Arriving at the Las Vegas Infinidrome for the annual World Combattra Ares Awards was the fitting and final climax to his tour. Not only was it the most grotesque and largest structure in the city, it was almost the most historically infamous. Preston heard rumors that the mob and the military had on occasion participated on “joint ventures,” and the best way to deny—or solidify—a partnership was to have a lavish party together.

Upon leaving the limousine’s red carpeted platform, Preston and his entourage of movie stars and musicians were immediately swarmed with reporters, paparazzi, and fans eager to glimpse or threaten their idols. Velvet rope barricades couldn’t prevent the blinding nova of camera flashes from shimmering around them. Although he wasn’t a contemporary of the celebrities around him, Preston felt accepted enough, especially from the fan adoration and applause. A giant monitor flanked the entrance to the hotel, and Preston caught a glimpse of himself on it through a mobile camera.

It truly felt good to be a
somebody
again.

The Infinidrome’s McArthur Hall was an art-deco throw back from even before Preston’s time. As classic as it was garish, it was a reflection of the new military’s modern image of warfare, entertainment and competition. Ambient lighting textured the walls and ceiling from end to end, while a minimalist candle and ikebana sculpture crowned the center of each table. Running on tracks that ran the length and height of the room, cameras were busy at work, buzzing around and capturing the moment. Waiters roamed the floor serving exotic hors d’oeuvres, while two massive buffet stations were situated at opposite ends of the hall. The crowd made full use of the cocktail bars situated between the various entrances and exits that lined the room’s four corners. Flanked by two massive display screens, the central stage loomed in the room’s north quarter. It was a masterful arch, made of sculpted fabric and swirling granite.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Jones?” asked Captain Scott Barrows, Jayna’s commanding officer. At first glance, he seemed much too young to be holding his rank. His boyish haircut framed an even younger-looking face, freckled and offset by a pair of large protruding ears. Captain Barrows’ voice reminded Preston of an adult whose voice never reached puberty, uneven and doubtful.

“Yes, I am, thank you. I must say, this is a lot more than what I expected.”

“Splendid,” he said with satisfaction. “Combattra spares little when it comes to honoring one of its own. I’m glad you can join us in celebrating our greatness.”

“I’m just happy to be here, Captain. Happy to be among the living.” Preston smiled and raised his glass.

“That’s a healthy attitude. Have you ever considered joining? To be part of our team?”

“No one’s ever made me an offer, sir.” Preston could sense a sales pitch coming.

“Splendid,” repeated the captain. “After the ceremonies, why don’t you talk to one of our recruiters? He’ll go over the program with you, and help you decide if you’re Combattra material or not. With your background, I see no reason for you to be denied.”

“It’s a tempting offer,” said Preston, stalling for time. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Very good. I’m sure it’s a decision you will not regret. By the way, have you seen Corporal Rogers? She was just here a few moments ago.”

“I believe she left to change outfits. She said something about changing into something ‘more appropriate.’”

“I can never seem to leave a place and not have people talk about me behind me back.” Jayna walked up to the table, wearing a form-fitting nightgown. Preston stood up, speechless at her beauty. He couldn’t help but stare at her from top to bottom. From the style of her hair, to the curve of her body, to that dimpled smile she always flashed, it was safe to say that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Captain Barrows also stood up, but was a bit more reserved in his appreciation. His wife was mingling in the crowd, and would not take kindly to her husband ogling beautiful, if younger, women.

“Do you gentlemen like this dress? It was the last minute thing I could find.”

“You look very beautiful tonight, Jayna,” said Preston, with an almost teenage modesty. “Yes, you look quite nice.”

Jayna smiled in return. “Thank you, kind sir. And I may say so, you look quite dashing yourself. You wear that uniform well, or is it the other way around?”

Preston pulled the chair out for her and seated her like a proper gentleman. Captain Barrows raised his wine glass and acknowledged her return.

“What a grand night for a party,” she said, looking over the night’s program. “I wish we could do this every six months, instead of only annually.”

“I’m afraid it will lose its novelty,” remarked the captain, “but it is nice to be in the same room with all these movie stars and musicians. I should’ve brought my autograph book.”

“I know what you mean, sir,” she said with a giggle. “I forgot mine, too.”

General Mason Cube came up behind Captain Barrows and firmly squeezed his shoulder. Like his crewcut, his swagger was ever-present and annoying. “How are we this evening, Captain?”

“Fine, sir, thank you for asking.” Captain Barrows immediately stood up in a gestureless salute. “Can I order you a drink?”

“Thank you, but no. I’m joining the honorable Judge Thorne and the other officers up front by the stage.”

“You remember Corporal Rogers, sir? And her ward, Preston Jones?”

“Of course to both,” he said, as if he had been constantly attuned to their activities.

“Fine work you’re doing, Corporal.” Cube walked around and firmly shook her hand. “A reflection of her commanding officer.”

Captain Barrows smiled in humble acceptance.

“Mr. Jones,” he continued, “still among us, I see. Have you enjoyed our little excursion?”

“It’s been very educational, General. I’ve learned a great deal about your world. It’s been quite enlightening.” Preston stretched his smile from ear to ear, unblinking in his mock appreciation.

“Good. You’ll catch on. I’ll join you later. I must return to my table. Good evening, all. Keep up the good work.”

Preston kept his exaggerated face expression long after the general disappeared from view. Jayna slowly slid her elbow across the tablecloth and painfully jabbed him on the arm. “I get the distinct feeling you don’t like him very much.”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“I beg your pardon?” Jayna stared at Preston, certain of his sarcasm.

“A bear?” asked Captain Barrows in reflection. “Oh, yes, a carnivorous mammal; extinct for over a hundred years, along with the elephant and other large fauna. Yes, I do believe it defecates in its natural surrounds. That much is certain.”

“I don’t mean to sound anxious,” said Preston, shaking his head at the absurdity of his comment, “but I see people lining up at the buffet. Should we…?”

“I think they go by table numbers, young man,” noted the Captain. “We’ll go when it’s our turn.”

Preston stood up and grabbed Jayna by the hand. “Let’s live a little, folks. Besides, who’ll know?”

Jayna stood up and winked at her superior officer. “See you in the chow line, sir.”

“Your captain seems like a nice enough guy,” said Preston as he piled food on his plate. The buffet table was a mishmash of gourmet foods, colorful and exotic to the senses. The ornate table itself stretched to nearly a third of the room, lit by colorful heat lamps. “He’s a little stiff, though.”

“Don’t let his looks fool you, Preston. He is an expert marksman and quite deadly in hand-to-hand combat. I’m very honored to serve under him.”

Preston smiled, noting the pride in her voice. “What time does this program begin?”

“I think we’re running a wee bit behind schedule. Once we gorge ourselves, we can then just relax and enjoy the show. By the way, there’s a chance the host will ask you to give a speech when they call you up on stage to receive your honorary award.”

“That wasn’t part of rehearsals yesterday, Jayna. They told me I just had to stand there, wave to the crowd, look happy, then walk off. I don’t have a speech prepared.”

“No worry, love. The display prompter already has your speech made out. Just look at the camera and read it as it scrolls across the screen. If all else fails, I have a copy of it in me purse.”

“Hold up,” he said, trying his best to balance his stacked plate while showing agitation. “Who wrote the speech? I’m not going to say anything that I didn’t write. What if I don’t agree with what it says?”

“My God, Preston; You worry way too much. We had our professional speech writer draft the script. It’s a damn good treatise is what it is. This is all standard fare for this type of event.”

“Boy, down to the end, you guys still have me on a leash, don’t you?”

“And you’re just not going to let this die, are you? This notion that we have you on strings…”

“This is supposed to be my night. I want to celebrate it my way. I want to speak with my own voice.”

“Can you please just toe the line one more night? Tomorrow morning is a brand new day, and you can bloody do whatever the hell you want when you get up. But tonight is about Combattra, not you.”

Jayna gave him the most disgusted look he had ever seen, going deeper than her mere face expression. She took a deep breath and collected herself, carefully selecting and phrasing her words. “Just for a night—one night—please think of others above yourself. You will be recognized, and you will be praised. All I’m asking is that you work with us and accept it with dignity and honor.

“I know how you feel about all of this. I know we’ve asked a great deal of your patience. But just suffer it a night longer, and then you’re free to do as you will. Can you do it for me?”

“It seems like the only one sacrificing anything here is me. Not knowing what the future holds isn’t so bad after all, now that I think about it. It’s got to be a lot better than the circus you’ve put me through. I’ll be your clown for one more night. Tomorrow, I walk out and leave as a free man.”

Preston slammed his plate on the table as he sat down at the table, leaving Jayna to pull her own chair and seat herself. Captain Barrows looked on with irritation, then pretended he didn’t notice the commotion.

“You can keep your world,” added Preston. “You deserve each other.”

A stirring violin, piano and strings overture played softly in the darkness, accompanied by images fading in and out on the stage’s main screen. The once-raucous banquet had given way to a darkened auditorium, lit only by flickering centerpiece candles casting human shadows. The walls that made up McArthur Hall had all but vanished from view, replaced with an ethereal abyss that stretched in all directions. The stage itself seemed to float in place, with only its lone host, a supposedly well-known Shakespearean actor, speaking at the podium to give it a human form and voice.

“History has shown that, despite adversity and struggle, the human spirit continues to move forward. Whether it’s to explore the nearest star, to create the next artful masterpiece, or to express the human body to its fullest potential, humanity steps ever-closer to the divine. We realized long ago that there is no Eden or Shangri-La to keep us complacent, nor should we seek such comfort. Our potential, our very destiny, is limited only by our imagination and our desire to succeed. We must forge ahead if we are to be enlightened, and earn a wondrous future that is rightfully ours. In essence, without conflict, there can be no peace. Without conflict, there can also be no beauty. One must have vision, spirit, and strength to achieve these lofty goals, and that is why we are all here this evening.

“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we will be honoring the gallant men and women who best exemplify these ideals. Not only will we hear their tales of honor and duty, but also their courage and resolve. It is a night of celebration, an affirmation of unity, and a reflection of times past, and the future yet to be.

“Welcome to the 93rd Annual Ares Awards. Fellow soldiers, it is indeed a good day to fight.”

A tidal roar of applause resonated throughout the hall, causing Preston to stare out into the expanse behind him. Captain Barrows and Jayna clapped loudly in their seats, staring at the stage with pride and approval. If this event were any less formal, he was quite sure nearly all the guests would be streaming into the aisles and screaming in celebration. When the room was lit, Preston couldn’t separate musician from actor, politician from athlete, soldier from civilian. The crowd was just a sea of uniforms and evening gowns, pretentiously rubbing elbows and gorging themselves on free food. But in the hall’s darkness, they were nothing more than silhouettes wavering in the candlelight.

The awards show itself moved surprisingly along, flowing from one category to another, from one celebrity to another. Amidst propaganda clips and rhetoric, the most improbable and implausible achievements were recognized. Combattra naturally emphasized sports within its branch of the armed forces, but it also recognized the athlete’s accomplishments as a soldier. Along with sports statistics, kill ratios, combat hours and other field merits were also praised. Each sporting league within Combattra specialized in different areas of war, and the most horrendous acts of skill and execution within that field were glorified in detail.

Preston sat in his chair and went with the flow, mimicking the crowd when necessary in order to blend in. His face got tired as the night wore on, having to smile at everyone smiling back. At times, he even made a game of it, mockingly limiting his face expression to either being shocked, or bobbing his head up and down with exaggerated agreement.

In-between commercial breaks and other program intermissions, motorized cameras continued to whir from floor to ceiling, speeding on track grids that checkered the walls. Larger, heavier cameras patrolled the orchestra-seating level, rolling or walking along the aisles and steps.

What had been a night of extravagant speeches and musical performances suddenly dimmed to a whisper, halting as if pausing to catch its breath. The opening musical overture slowly faded back into the foreground, returning the great hall back into a dark, solemn cavern. The host returned to his podium, and exacted another tribute.