Herculanium Read Online Free Page B

entrance doors were sealed shut. The crystal chandeliers dimmed to half-light, while microphones and speakers squealed painfully to life.
    Darienne stood in one corner of the room, just to the right of the stage and beneath a spotlight. She decided to give Micky a wide berth. The last thing she wanted was to get in the way of her best friend’s most important assignment. Micky had downplayed the importance of this event all evening, but Darienne knew better. In this crowd, she had to keep visual contact with Micky. If she lost her for even a few seconds, she would not be seeing her for the next two days.
    Richard Peryson could count the exact number of steps from where he was standing backstage all the way to the podium. He spent days rehearsing the steps, molding it into a routine he didn’t have to think twice about. He gently groped his suit pocket to make sure his announcement was secure and ready for its reveal. He also was not alone now, for his corporate partners had finally joined his entourage. There was one American, two Russians, one East Indian, and a Japanese. He looked at each of them and gave a warm, reassuring smile.
    This event was years in the making, and was about to crescendo.
    A stagehand parted the curtain to their area and motioned everyone to come forward to the stage.
    “Let’s go, people,” Peryson commanded with routine authority. “Welcome to hell.”
    The lone podium microphone was not a device anymore, but a cosmic bullhorn, a monolith of thunder. It jutted out like a missile from a silo, black as obsidian and as cold as an ice cube. He really couldn’t see anyone or anything in front of him, because the harsh spotlights bleached out any discernable shape or color.
    “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said with resolute calmness. “I would like to thank all of you for attending tonight’s press conference. My name is Richard Peryson, CEO of McGinnis Promotions. I am joined on stage tonight by representatives from our scientific and corporate partners, without whom this endeavor would not have been possible.”
    Peryson pulled out detailed index cards from one pocket and fanned them out in his palm.
    “There has been much speculation about the Olympus project now for well over a year, and the time has come for its unveiling. Our goal, from the very beginning, is to promote space exploration, but not only for scientists, but for the layperson as well. Besides housing laboratories and other technical facilities, the Olympus Space Station is also a fully functional resort. Civilians can now fly to space and vacation in orbit above our very planet. You can view a sunrise and a sunset from a window never before possible, and for the first time in human history, we can rise above our world, much like the gods this station was named after.”
    He constantly shifted his gaze from the index cards to the crowd, giving the illusion of an impromptu speech. He hated reading from teleprompters; he was robotic enough as it was.
    “We’ve invested in a small fleet of commercial space shuttles to ferry people back and forth. Like the old maritime voyages, when seafarers finally overcame the challenge of crossing the vast ocean, we now can traverse the void of space and inch closer to colonizing other moons and planets. Simply put, this is just the first step to our destiny in the stars.
    “However, our work is not yet complete. That’s why we are all here tonight. We’ve embarked on a search for the perfect ambassador to launch humanity into a new Space Age, someone who represents the ideals and achievements of the human condition. We’ve developed different lotteries and contests to choose this one person, and I am here to tell you that it was not an easy task. We had everyone from scientists, musicians, politicians, athletes, poets and artists apply, to average citizens like you and me. While all of us will eventually make it to space, there can only be one person who can officially