He stood there, a dark and shabby man, rotten teeth and wild hair.
Clothed in dirty rags, surrounded by dozens of shabby commoners.
Roman soldiers watched them all.
“That’s Jesus?” I said. “For real?”
“Kinda puts things in perspective, eh?” said Dr. Marks, holding his camera steady.
We were posing as merchants, and tracked the group for a few days.
And when it was over, we went back to our boat, threw the time circuits, and appeared back in the Institute.
We both took a big breath of fresh air.
“Man, I need a shower,” Dr. Marks said, and laughed.