Caligula realized that beneath his imperial robes he had wet himself. Another childhood memory for him today.
Shame.
CHAPTER 21
AD 37, Amphitheatrum Statilii Tauri, Rome
Rashim could hear Stilson’s voice over the comms-channel, guffawing like a frat-boy with a hall-pass. ‘Just look at ’em!’
Dreyfuss was grinning too. Drinking in the spectacle of the arena.
The combat unit leading the platoon, Lieutenant Stern, barked some orders to his men and they dropped down from the hulls of both MCVs on to the hard sand, setting up an ordered circular perimeter, kneeling, weapons raised, around both vehicles with quick, well-practised efficiency.
‘Can we cut this wretched noise now?’ said Rashim. ‘I can’t help but think we’ve made our point!’
Forty feet away, standing on top of the weapons turret of his MCV, he saw Stilson nod slowly. ‘I guess these dumb suckers have heard enough AC/DC. Yeah, OK, you can cut it.’
Rashim ducked down inside and gestured for the unit manning the console to turn the music off. He flipped a switch… and all of a sudden they were engulfed with silence. Complete, hear-a-pin-drop silence.
Stilson’s voice quietly crackled over Rashim’s earpiece. ‘I think we got their attention, eh, Dr Anwar?’
Rashim nodded. Yes, I think you could probably say that.
‘Have we got that recording ready to go?’
Dreyfuss had worked with Stilson last night, taking the vice-president’s scribbled words and translating them into Latin then reading them aloud and recording it. He’d fussed and fretted for endless hours over the various versions of the recording, worrying about the precise pronunciation of the language. ‘No one knows for sure how some of these words were actually spoken!’ had been his repeated complaint. But he’d done it… eventually settling on one particular recording as the best he was ever going to get.
‘It’s good to go,’ said Dreyfuss over the comms-channel.
‘Then let’s play it!’ said Stilson, hopping down from the weapons turret, walking across the sloping hull of his vehicle and standing proudly on the front of it, hands on hips like some Shakespearian actor centre stage.
The complete silence was broken by the booming sound of Dreyfuss’s voice over the two vehicles’ synced PA system.
‘CITIZENS OF ROME! We come in peace!’
Rashim shook his head. Only a pompous idiot like Stilson would start with a line as cheesy as that.
‘We have come down from the heavens to be gods among mortals! We are here to show you new ways, to share our knowledge and our wisdom with you. We are here to educate this dark world, bring peace to every land and… prosperity to you!’
He looked at the crowd. The panicked stampede from the stalls had stopped and all around them, on the four sides of the Statilius Taurus, ten thousand faces stared in silence at Stilson… assuming the voice they could hear was his. The members of Project Exodus, crammed down inside the MCVs, began to emerge warily from a ramp at the rear of each vehicle.
‘We… are all gods in human form. We are all from the heavens, a place that we call… America. And we are here to bring you our way of living. The “American way”!’
CHAPTER 22
2001, Barnes amp; Noble, Union Square, New York
‘This is not the historical reference section, Liam.’
‘What? Uh…’ Liam looked up guiltily from the comicbook in his hands. ‘Oh hi, Bob, I wondered where you got to.’
‘I have been waiting in the historical reference section for twenty-nine minutes.’ Bob looked at the label at the top of the spinning carousel. ‘ Graphic novels? You will not find relevant or useful texts in this section. I have located the computer technology section at the — ’
‘You should have a look at these!’ Liam flicked through several pages. ‘I never really took any notice of the cartoons in the Cork papers. Thought they were for children, or fools who couldn’t read proper.’ He handed the comicbook to Bob. ‘But this…’ he said, grinning, ‘it’s properly amazing, so. Look at them pictures.’
Bob looked at the cover of the one Liam passed him. ‘ Judge Dredd?’
‘Aye. And the hero fella, this Dredd, he looks just like you: all muscles and chin and no bleedin’ smile. You could be his twin!’
Bob’s contemplative scowl remained as he scanned several pages. ‘You cannot see this character’s face. He is wearing a helmet.’
‘Hey, we could dress you up like that. Eh? Get you one of them big motor bicycles and you could ride round the city being all grumpy.’ Liam nudged him. ‘What do you think about that?’
Bob handed the comicbook back to him. ‘This is not relevant reading material.’
‘Well… we’re on strike, are we not? I fancy something a little bit more fun to read.’ He stuck the comicbook under his arm and flipped through a few more. ‘This stuff is all so fun… and look! This one’s got a big grumpy fella who dresses like a bat, so he does!’ Liam giggled. ‘I love it!’
‘This is not useful or relevant reading material.’
He pulled another one out and silently flipped through a dozen pages, grinning at the illustrations. ‘Ah now, will you look at this one. Right up your street, so it is.’
Bob looked at the cover. ‘ 2000AD: Robo-Hunter. ’ He shook his head disapprovingly. ‘It does not depict cybernetic technology accurately.’
‘Aw, come on, Bob. It’s just a bit of fun.’ Liam patted him. ‘I’m having this one as well.’ He looked up at Bob. ‘How much money have we got?’
‘Maddy gave us ninety dollars.’
Liam nodded. ‘Enough for another couple, do you think?’
‘Negative, Liam. You have enough money to purchase one more comicbook, if you still also wish to purchase a hot dog afterwards.’
They were out on 5th Avenue, ambling north in the general direction of Central Park. Hot dogs on the grass in the midday sun — that was the plan. A bit of ‘lads-together-time’ was Liam’s justification for blagging some petty cash from Maddy.
Liam was already eagerly leafing through the glossy coloured pages of Judge Dredd. ‘Ah, this Dredd fella’s such a cool customer, so he is.’
Bob strode along beside him thoughtfully. ‘Define cool customer.’
‘Well… he just seems so calm. See, look at his mouth. It’s always the same… not screaming or laughing or anything. Just like this.’ Liam pressed his lips together firmly into a passable approximation of humourless stoicism. ‘I wish I could be like that. Calm. Firm. You know? In charge of things. No fear.’
‘You are able to do many expressions with your face, Liam. Why would you want to limit yourself to only being able to do one?’
‘Well, I got a terrible feeling that I spent most of the last few months with me gob hangin’ open like a barn door.’
Which was probably true. It seemed if he wasn’t utterly confused by events going on around him, then he was busy being utterly terrified by them.
‘Mimicking human facial expressions is one thing I find difficult to do convincingly,’ said Bob. ‘Becks managed to be far more effective at this.’
‘Ah, but you see that’s part of your charm, Bob, being the surly ol’ lump that y’are.’
‘It is, however, one of my goals to appear more human than that.’
‘Goals?’ Liam looked up at him. ‘You actually have a personal goal?’
Bob nodded. ‘Affirmative. Between mission specifications there is the ongoing imperative to improve the efficacy of my on-board AI.’
‘Now see… when you said “goal”, you actually sounded a lot more like a human just then.’ Liam laughed. ‘Then you went and ruined it with all that mission specification nonsense.’
They walked in silence for a while. ‘May I ask you a question, Liam?’
‘Aye. Sure.’
‘Do you have… personal goals?’
He frowned. ‘Well, there’s a question and a half… hmmm.’ Since being snatched from certain death at the bottom of the Atlantic all those months ago it seemed his mind had been double-timing to catch up on events. To learn about this world of 2001; to learn about nearly a hundred years’ worth of twentieth-century history and technology. His mind had been so swamped with absorbing new information it seemed there was little time or space inside his skull for such petty things as… a personal goal, a wish, a hope. Even a comicbook.