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Authors: Alex G. Paman

Herculanium (37 page)

BOOK: Herculanium
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Chapter Twelve

 

Plumes of smoke rose in perfect cones above the street, rust-colored from the burning garbage that exhaled it, before dissipating completely. Skeletal remains sat in heaps against the hazy sunlight, dripping their rot onto stagnant canals that streamed over the crusted, uneven sidewalks. Exposed wiring spat fairies into the breeze, glittering sparks that eventually alighted on puddles and vagrants like winter snow. There were no buildings here, just towering sculptures of girders and cement, misshapen cages that were never completed. The waterfalls that gushed from every orifice healthfully moved the flotsam along the gutters, keeping the stench constantly shifting. In the palpable mist, this place was a living carnival, peopled with nameless shadows that basked in the eclipse that was progress.

In the future, Preston discovered, there was still poverty.

Each broken window they passed was a jagged welcoming smile, each dim marquee sign a body count of light bulbs. Gang graffiti took the place of billboards, advertising the continuous change of ownership every night. Potholes were predatory here, swallowing cars whole while letting their symbiotic humans feed on their unsuspecting occupants. One could only guess what was being barbecued on the street corners. Only the children running carelessly in traffic gave this playground a truly human face, a forgotten fairy tale replete of a hero or a happy ending.

Preston didn’t know whether to turn away in disgust, or stare directly at it and learn its lesson. He made sure his door and window were locked.

“Nothing’s changed,” he said in disbelief. “After all these years, there are still poor, displaced people in our city.”

“What did you expect? Utopia? Eden? Shangri-La?” Jayna kept her eyes roving from car mirror to street corner to stoplight, making sure she was attuned to everything happening around them as if in combat.

“Technology doesn’t wipe out poverty and strife,” she added, “people do. I imagine we’re still as greedy and corrupt and as power hungry as the people in your time.”

“Somebody has to do something. This is worse than any ghetto I’ve ever seen.” Preston shook his head, saddened by the sight of children milling through hills of garbage.

“They have their problems, we have ours. To each their own, I guess.”

“How can you be so numb about this, Jayna? Don’t you feel anything for these people?”

“I’ve been around these parts longer than you have, sport. Don’t you ever lecture me on empathy. You were the big sports star in your time, right? Why didn’t you donate all of your money to the needy?”

“All of it? Don’t be silly. I gave what I could, but I had to live, too, you know.”

“One game you played totaled more than an entire year’s salary for the average family of your time. You’re telling me you couldn’t donate most of it and still live comfortably?”

“I earned that money with my own blood, sweat, and tears. We live in a free country, and I can do whatever the hell I want with my money.”

“If you’re looking for someone to blame, or someone to do something about all this, look in the mirror. At least you have a choice of what to spend on. Most of these people will be dead within two years, and their children will take their place.”

In-between passing structures and blinking streetlights, Preston could see downtown San Francisco from across the Bay. It seemed to float in the darkness, an open jewel box with its contents spilled onto a mirror sea. Even in his century, Preston never grew tired of staring at The City’s mesmerizing vista, especially at night. Its glowing, checkerboard collage of buildings never failed to draw him home to Northern California.

“I don’t remember going this way on the way to the cemetery.” Preston looked around and tried to recognize any landmark they may have passed while leaving for the Necropolis.

“We didn’t. I’m taking an indirect way back to the city. We’re travelling on roads that haven’t even been listed on the maps yet. Not very many people like to travel on this part of the Bay. You can bet they’re waiting for us at all the major intersections.”

Preston turned around and leaned over into the backseat. “What’s with all the clothing? Shirts, hats, pants, jackets and shoes; there’s a whole wardrobe back here.”

“It must be the change of clothes from the agents that ambushed us. They were slick ones, they were. Even fooled me for a bit. Why don’t you switch shirts and jackets with the wardrobe? We need to be inconspicuous once we enter the city.”

Preston did as she requested, removing his top and replacing it with a new shirt and jacket. He then grabbed a hat and gently placed it on Jayna’s head, adjusting the brim and then playfully patting the top of her head. “I think you need a disguise, too.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“Since we’ve disabled the global positioning bug in this car,” she continued, “that means they’ll be tracking us visual only. The only risky part is that we have to get on a small stretch of freeway that leads to the Golden Gate Tower Bridge. Once we cross it and get off on the right exit, our chances of survival doubles.”

The rolling scenery slowly began to change the closer they came to the freeway. The chaos of the ghetto had morphed into lit businesses and residential areas that were intact, full of life, traffic and customers. The familiar hills of the Bay came into view, undulating high on the horizon and pocked with lonely house lights and street lamps. Preston was tempted to breathe a sigh of relief, but refrained when he reminded himself that this was still far from over.

They entered the main thoroughfare with little incident, just another automobile merging in and navigating through the early evening traffic. Had it not been for their encounter back at the Necropolis, this would’ve felt like just another evening in the city. People walked about with indifference, skyscrapers peddled the newest trend products on their towering billboards, and the movement of life swirled in all directions. With a city and lifestyle this complex and immense, nothing short of Armageddon could stop it in its tracks.

“We’re about two miles away from the freeway on-ramp,” said Jayna, adjusting her hat. “Don’t look around like a tourist. Just keep your attention focused forward and pretend you’ve gone through this road your whole life.”

Each red light that stopped them in traffic now became an eternity of waiting and anticipation. She kept her eyes roving from one point of the road to another, maintaining her vigilance.

But Preston was stone silent.

“Did you hear what I said, chum?” she asserted. “Just relax and pretend that this is old hat to you.”

“Jayna?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically stuttering, “what the hell is this thing outside my window? Something is looking straight at us...”

A large, circular lens floated just outside his window like a disembodied head, bobbing in place while spinning and clicking its aperture to focus. It moved along the length of the car before returning to Preston’s window, scanning the inside of the cab with a red string of light.

Preston kept his focus forward, just as Jayna had instructed earlier. He immediately jerked his head straight the moment he saw the oculus peer through the window, and he could only keep his composure by secretly gripping the cushion of his seat with his left hidden hand.

“It’s a security camera,” she said calmly, pretending to keep her eyes on the road while talking. “They run on tracks along the sides of buildings. It means Combattra’s looking for us right now. Just pretend you’ve seen it before and it’s no big deal.”

Attached to tentacles and segmented arms, other cameras descended on the forward and rear traffic, panning their lenses back and forth as if performing a medical scan. It was unlike anything Preston had ever seen before, and for the first time, he truly felt like a fugitive.

“They can’t hear through the glass, you know,” said Jayna, pretending that everything was still quite ordinary. “This is happening throughout the entire section of the city that leads from the Necropolis. Just relax and don’t make any sudden movements. It will pass.”

Preston took a deep breath and wiped his brow with his finger, trying his best not to hyperventilate and panic. The cameras resembled skeletal arms reaching from the buildings, jerking and bending as if they were independently sentient from each other. He relied on his peripheral vision to see where they were, too afraid to stare at one directly in its eye.

The traffic moved awkwardly along through the stoplights, hampered by turns and merges. The other drivers ignored the cameras peering into their windows, carrying on and minding their own business. Towering skyscraper billboards from all parts of the Bay became more visible the closer they came to the freeway on-ramp, with low-level buildings and structures giving way to more roads and congestion.

“How far do we have to travel before we get to the bridge?” asked Preston.

“Not far now. We have to pass through a toll booth, and then it’s off to our exit. I know a place where we can hide out before we decide what to do next. Whatever our choices are, I just want to make sure we don’t make the decision at gunpoint.”

The freeway slowly started to glitter in front of them, an ocean of stars travelling in opposite directions. From their vantage point of descending a steep hill, it was a breathtaking sight to behold. Flanked by skyscrapers of its own, this side of the Bay was as equally impressive as its downtown sister across the bridge. Preston and Jayna forgot their fears for a moment, awestruck by the bowl of light they were about to enter.

Shimmering skyscraper ads loomed over the firefly stream of cars travelling on the darkened highways, gigantic movie screens for all the world to see. The entire landscape was a galaxy of its own, aglow with life and giving off more light than even the stars above it. Preston slowly stared at the horizon from end to end, making sure to take in the wonder that he was seeing. Jayna cracked a smile between her ever-protective watch, her own subtle way of expressing pleasure.

The security cameras probing their cab were less impressed, loyally following their directive and observing their prey. It wasn’t until a few blocks later did Jayna realize that each building’s security camera was specifically following them, at times bunching up in groups of three or more on each side. Block after block, the cameras maintained their silent pursuit.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” asked Jayna, keeping her smile chiseled on her face. “We’re going through that, you know.”

“I can’t wait to see it from the inside-out,” said Preston with enthusiasm. “I’ve never been inside a sun before.”

“By the way, do me a favor and don’t turn around. We have company. Again.”

He instinctively whirled around anyway. “What do you mean we have compa…”

Preston froze in mid-sentence, mercury suddenly streaming down his neck. Four security cameras were flanking the cab on both sides, peering through the window and noisily whirring its lenses around to focus.

“They’re on to us,” he said, turning around and burrowing himself into his seat cushion. “They know where we are. What are we going to do?”

“We’re just going to keep driving,” she said with cold indifference. “Hold on.”

Jayna sped through the traffic as best as she could, changing lanes and speeds as much as the road would allow her. Preston closed his eyes and held on for dear life, riding the bumps and swerves as if in a carnival ride. Rolling on tracks attached to buildings, the cameras whirred as fast as they could to keep up. When one track and building ended, another camera would take its place and continue the pursuit.

Following the ocean of cars, the cab finally merged away from the street and entered the freeway on-ramp. The cameras were left stranded in their tracks, bobbing in place while continuously taking pictures. The buildings fell away, replaced by lit guard railing and towering lamp posts that became blurred at the point of acceleration. The slow congestion had broken formation, with all the cars picking up speed and getting more space to jockey and maneuver. In a span of a few seconds, Preston and Jayna went from driving through a busy street corner to the heart of a meteor shower, themselves a string of light streaking through space.

The glitter of the city expanded out in all directions, creating a horizontal spider web of light and crystal. Preston held his breath, smiling at the swirls of color around him. In all his travels, he had never felt such joy while looking something so majestic and ethereal, a painting almost too perfect to be real. Jayna remained stoic, keeping her eyes glued on the road while navigating through the staggered traffic.

Preston smiled as he saw his face on one of the skyscraper billboards looming next to the freeway, glad to see he still maintained some celebrity status. It wasn’t until Jayna’s picture appeared did he realize that they weren’t using his image to promote a product. It was a city-wide warning of two fugitives running from the law. One by one, each of the skyscraper advertisements displayed their pictures in succession, giant mug shots for all the world to see.

Preston was staring at himself as he was running away.

“I see it, partner,” said Jayna, shaking her head. “Don’t pay any attention to it. We’re just going about our business and nothing more.”

“How the hell can you be so calm?” Preston slammed his fist on the dashboard and pointed out his window. “Have you seen what’s out there? Our pictures are on every fucking billboard in town, and they’re a hundred miles tall. Where the hell can we go and not be recognized?”

“Will you please stop panicking? You’re making me lose me concentration.” She bit her lip, consciously pushing the thought of surrender out of her head. She was arguing with herself as much as she was with Preston. “Just a little while longer. We’re almost there. Just let me do what I’m trained to do.”

“But there’s nothing
left
to do. I’ve been telling you that from the beginning. Why are you fighting me so hard on this? We have to give up.”

She inhaled deeply. “Toll booth up ahead. Hang on.”

The bridge toll booths stretched astride one side of the freeway to the other, dividing the lanes into even smaller lanes. This not only made the traffic slow down and line up in rows, but it also made it easier for the unmanned booths’ sensors to scan each car’s registered credit or debt. Security cameras hung above it like hungry vultures, continuously swiveling and panning back and forth.

BOOK: Herculanium
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