The synthetic silk of a bow tie slipped through his musician’s fingers, refusing to hold a decent knot. He tugged and tweaked to no avail. The display case was one of twelve lining the stone walls of Saint John Cathedral’s main nave, each case placed beneath a new stained glass window. The cathedral had been without pews since cleared of rubble after the Seven-Year War, and now intimate groupings of candlelit, artfully set tables had been placed strategically throughout the chamber for the Dante Foundation’s event. Twin pillars, alike but not identical, framed a theatre-sized, Holo-projected video feed of scenes played out throughout the city. Crowds gathered in places like Times Square, Central Park, Rockefeller Center. Below, in the pulpit, the thirteenth and largest case protected what remained of the cathedral’s original altar. The roof had yet to be restored. A jagged, cavernous hole gaped open to display the night sky and its magnificent array of piercing sweet stars.
