Return of the Ancients

He nudged Edward, who was trying to go back to his reading. ‘And hey, who doesn’t like boob monsters?’ Arn chuckled and stole a quick glance over his shoulder to the rear of the bus. Rebecca Matthews was in her usual seat, chatting animatedly with two of her friends. Make-believe girlfriend Becky and the Boob Monsters — Arn smiled at Edward’s insightful name for the group.

While Arn sat smiling, Becky caught him looking, and for the split second their eyes locked, Arn felt the usual electric tingle travel from his toes to his scalp. He knew he blushed as his face suddenly felt hot and tight. For her part, Becky’s mouth turned down in one corner, and she looked away.

So beautiful, he thought… and so unattainable.

* * *

The bus slowed to pick up more students. Arn sighed and tried to make himself more comfortable for the long trip ahead. Today was science excursion day — an entire day devoted to visiting the Fermilab particle collider at Batavia. Apparently there was to be a test firing of the new acceleration technology the company had developed — atom smashing day, Edward had called it. Their class was chosen to attend because of its grade point average prominence in the state.

He loved science, but had an idea what to expect from the lab visit — a robotic voice would count down to some sort of initiation event, lights flashed on monitor boards and screens, ignition would be called, everyone’s breath would be held… and then a technician would say, test run complete, and that’d be it. Everyone would be invited to look at rows of numbers scrolling down a computer screen. Riveting!

It was going to be a far cry from what science fiction writers had described in countless novels he had read in the past. The reality was always uneventful — and mind-numbingly boring.

More students filed past seeking seats, and as Edward flipped another page in his comic, as if by magic, it disappeared from his hands. He and Arn stared up into the comically brutish face of Steve Barkin.

Naperville High was ranked in the top five per cent of colleges nationally, but looking up into the face of Barkin made Arn wonder whether every now and then someone bubbled up through the academic cracks — just to ensure that life didn’t become too comfortable for the normal people.

‘Whatta you, six years old?’ Barkin sneered, baring his teeth.

Arn looked at Edward, who sat staring up, not saying a word. Barkin leafed quickly through the comic.

‘Are there pages stuck together in here? You know, from where you been drooling over the muscle man in his tight superhomo clothes?’ He brayed at his joke, and then started to read some of the comic’s panels. His lips moved and his eyes narrowed in concentration.

Arn shifted and tried to look out the window, but he felt the hot waves of humiliation coming off his friend. In his mind he could hear a little voice repeating over and over: Stay out of it, he hates you even more, just stay out of it… As usual he ignored it.

‘Take it slowly, Steve — a few big words in there.’

Two piggishly small eyes lifted from the page. They blinked as if their owner was taking a few seconds to register, in some deeply buried memory centre of his brain, that they were meant to be insulting.

‘You got somethin’ you want to say, Singer?’

‘Just that you should try ’em, before you rag ’em, Barkin.’ Arn kept his face serious.

‘Kiddie comics? They’re for nerds and dweebs — like you two min-or-ity creeps.’

Arn ignored the jibe, but pressed his attack anyway. ‘Not comics, Einstein; I meant reading in general.’

‘What did you say, Chief?’ Barkin’s eyes narrowed to two angry slits.

C’mon Arn, pull back before you cop it. As usual, Arn’s mouth and brain never agreed on a strategy.

‘I think you heard, redneck.’

The slits widened and Barkin’s mouth opened a little, as if about to deliver another insult or a stream of unintelligible cursing, just as the deep voice of Mr. Beescomb, their physics teacher, rolled down the aisle of the bus.

‘Seats… now.’

Barkin’s mouth snapped shut and instead returned to its familiar sneer. He ripped the comic in two and threw the halves back at Arn and Edward, hitting neither.

‘You pair of jerk-offs.’ He leaned over Arn and whispered, ‘Beats me why they ever let you in here — quotas, I reckon.’ He straightened. ‘I’ll see you later, Singer.’ He lumbered away, first towards the front of the bus, and then changed his mind and bullocked his way down the back, where he stopped in front of Becky and her friends.

Arn watched for a second, and then sighed, turning back to the front of the bus, where he noticed the eyes of Mr. Jefferson the driver momentarily fixed on him in the small overhead mirror.

Edward held up the two halves of his comic. ‘Thank you Arn; that went well.’

Arn shook his head slowly with his mouth turned down in distaste. ‘He doesn’t scare me.’

‘Does me.’ Edward stuffed the comic fragments into his bag.

Chapter 2 Fire in the Hole!

Arn was jolted from his dozing by the bus driving over speed humps. They were passing a roadblock on a side road outside of North Aurora. He yawned and craned his neck to get a better look at a group of squat, grey, fortified buildings in the distance.

Men in green fatigues stood out front in pairs — military for sure. He could just make out one of the buildings, built like a concrete-and-steel blister with a flat iron door — not a roller door, but more like a solid heavy plate and marked with a lightning bolt held in a gauntleted fist.

He nudged Edward. ‘Fire in the hole!’

Edward looked up and blinked several times like a mole coming to the surface of its burrow, and then focused on what Arn was nodding his head at. He snorted. ‘It’s an armoury. Rumour even has it they have experimental mini-nukes down there — shoulder mounted — like an RPG, but could flatten a mountain range. That structure is just a cap; it’s supposed to drop down twenty storeys below the ground to a command centre. If the big one drops, the brass can keep belting out the orders from down there.’ He sat back again.

Arn scoffed. ‘You’re making that up.’

Edward shook his head without looking up from his comic, and did his best Yoda voice: ‘Internet a wonderful place is. Try you must, travelling there some day, young Master Singer.’

Arn laughed, looked back one last time, then relaxed back into his seat. Mini-nukes, he thought. Cool.

* * *

About an hour later, and now late morning, the school bus turned into Pine Road and motored towards an enormous three-legged iron sculpture that reminded Arn of one of the Martian ships from War of the Worlds.

‘Quick, look up.’ Edward pushed Arn’s head closer to the window so he could watch as they passed below the weird sculpture. He then said, ‘It’s called Broken Symmetry; it’s sort of an illusion. From below, all three legs look exactly the same, but…’ He held up his finger as they continued under, and then past the sculpture. They looked back at it. ‘… But when you see it from the side, you can see that all three legs are different sizes.’

‘Hey yeah, you’re right — spooky.’ Arn watched the sculpture recede for a moment and then sat back.

Edward also sat back and reopened his comic book. ‘It’s actually made of the deck plates from the USS Princeton.’

‘Well, you’re a mine of information, aren’t you?’ Arn didn’t doubt for a minute that it was true.

‘I don’t always read comic books, you know.’ Edward raised his middle finger.

Arn laughed and looked forward through the window towards their destination. Mr. Beescomb had told them in their briefing that it was Fermilab’s main auditorium, and Arn could see a tall building looming up in front of them