Not sure what this is about? Here's my introduction.
Chapter 5 is the continuation of the story of Josiah begun in chapters 1, 2 and 5. But remember Jos and Joe, as all three stories impact each other.
Josiah woke with a start, shaking and trembling. What was going on? It was too dark to see anything. He looked around in panic, eyes wide, breathing quickly. He was drenched in an icy sweat, bed sheets clinging to his body. Then he realised that he was in his room and collapsed back into the bed, shivering with cold and the remains of terror. It had all been so real, Security was everywhere. Duke had been killed, and Amber… crushed beneath falling barrels. Amber was dead.
Wasn’t she? No, it was just another stupid bad dream, Amber was fine.
But they had gone to the market, followed the small man, hadn’t they? When did reality end and the dream begin? As he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he wasn’t sure. He needed a drink. But first...
“God of Steel, watch over my soul as it drifts from my body,” he began automatically. What are you doing? There is no God of Steel, no soul to leave my body. You aren’t a Priest and you don’t believe in Steel. Why are you still praying?
After a few words he gave up. There was no comfort there.
Josiah clambered from bed, switched on the light that swung just above his head, and poured himself a glass of water. His hands were shaking and he spilt half the glass on the floor. Why was he so clumsy? Fact and fiction continued to intertwine inside his head. The blood exploding from Duke’s body, the barrels falling for eternity. He had been too far away, there was nothing he could have done. Was Amber dead? He knew that he had dreamt it but had the dream reflected reality or was it all in his mind?
A coffee would help straighten his thoughts. He pressed the button for coffee but nothing happened. A gurgling sound and a smell of burning drifted from the Provider. The steel fist emblazoned on the machine stared at him. He sneered at it and knocked the Provider to the floor. It was some sort of cosmic joke, and he had had enough.
He turned to the wall and ripped down the fist that hung there. Its sharp edges cut his finger but that only made him angrier. He threw the damned thing with furious strength. Shards of grey plaster scattered as it hit the wall.
Then the phone rang.
He switched on the monitor, aware that he was not yet dressed and was still trembling.
“Merlin!” cried Amber excitedly, “good morning.”
Confusion and relief intermingled in Josiah’s mind as he struggled to think of an appropriate thing to say.
“What time is it?” was all he could come up with.
“It’s 5:56 am precisely,” Amber answered, “I thought you might want to come for a drive.”
“Do you normally call people at six in the morning?”
“Well, you’re up aren’t you?”
Josiah had to smile, all anger evaporating. “I suppose I am,” he answered.
“Then what’s the problem?” Amber rejoined, “I’m on level 28, see you when you’re dressed.”
Before Josiah could say anything else, the screen went dark. Embarrassed, he had to laugh.
* * *
From up here, the city seemed almost beautiful, like a forest in the dawn. Silhouettes of skyscrapers became enormous trees, soaring high above the floor. It was a forest of steel, of course, metal come alive, growing and spreading its seeds in the scorched earth. The sky was clear and pure, so blue it hurt to look at it, and not a soul could be seen. Golden sunshine was spreading over the horizon, sending shafts of crystal light driving through the shadows, glittering off city dust and black frost. If only there were some birds singing, Josiah thought, that would make this moment perfect. Amber was beside him, the swift breeze playing with her hair, and they were soaring at least a kilometre above the ground - he had to smile. But it was still midwinter, and the sun’s light was pale and cold. Yet it was good to be in the open air again. Amber’s car seemed to glide over the road, with barely a whisper of the engine. It was an engineering masterpiece, a product of late twenty-first century design, and far superior to the vehicle the Circle had provided for him. It looked good too, but it was what was inside the car that really interested Josiah, the engine not the frame.
The skyway stretched ahead and behind them without an end in sight, kilometres of junctions and asphalt. They had been built to solve London’s traffic problems, Josiah knew, but found it difficult to imagine what the world must have been like back then. There must have been people everywhere to have so many cars on the roads but London just wouldn’t feel right so crowded. Every square metre parcelled out for yet another burgeoning family to set up home? It was almost unthinkable. Back then, so he had been taught by the Circle, the machines had outnumbered the humans, and not a car could move along the earth roads. Instead of realising their blasphemy, the people in charge had built the skyways, an interconnected network of roads that linked all the skyscrapers together at various levels above the ground. Naturally, the solution was a failure, and the Deep was the punishment. Hardly anyone had needed to go to ground-level any more, and so the Deep had grown like a cancer, enveloping the lowest levels of London. Of course, since the Cataclysm, London was left half-empty but still no one walked the earth if they could help it.
They were driving on the highest level, just above the skyscrapers, and the view of the sunrise took Josiah’s breath away. Lower down, the dawn was hardly visible.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Amber said, “what are you thinking about?”
Josiah paused, then quoted:“The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose. The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.”
“That Ecclesiastes,” Amber replied, “he certainly knew how to ruin a good sunrise. By the way, I think you skipped a few lines.”
“Call it poetic license,” Josiah said, smiling, “but there is something mystical about watching the sunrise. I can’t help thinking about the people who watched the sun over London before us. And those who will watch it after we’re gone.” He turned back to the view.
“I think it’s so beautiful when the light hits the buildings. The darkness dissolves and the metal glistens like a jewel.”
“Every day another sunrise, always the same and always different. It connects us all with what is to come.”
“It’s just a sun rise, can’t you appreciate it for what it is?”
“Is there really nothing new under the sun?” Josiah asked. “Do you think we are doomed to repeat our mistakes forever?”
“Are you asking if I believe in the Techno-Messiah?” Amber asked. “I gave that up when I stopped believing in the tooth fairy and evolution.”
“No, and yes,” answered Josiah, still not looking at her. “Maybe not the Techno-Messiah specifically, I don’t think I can believe in that any more, but is there redemption? Do you think that we can do better?”
“I don’t really know. I suppose I hope so. Not in this generation, maybe, but I hope so.”
“What I would give to see that future,” Josiah muttered.
“That’s the thing about the future,” Amber said, and laughed. “All of us are time travellers, moving at one second per second into the future.”
Josiah turned to look at her and found her laughter infectious.
“But how can you think about this stuff at a time like this?” Amber asked after a moment. “Doesn’t Ecclesiastes also say ‘To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to dream and a time to wake; a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to philosophise and a time to enjoy the view’?”
“I don’t remember that last bit,” Josiah said.
“Call it poetic license,” Amber replied still smiling. “I’m sure he would have said it, only it didn’t occur to him at the time.”
“But is there really a fixed time for such things? A time for us to be born and a time for us to die?” Josiah looked at the expression on Amber’s face. “Okay, okay, I get it. Enjoy the sunrise, right.” He motioned with his hands to indicate that he was giving this task his utmost concentration.
Amber laughed, and they continued driving.
* * *
“Maybe we should go back,” Josiah said, after realising where they were.
“Why?” asked Amber, “have you got somewhere else to be?”
She smiled but stopped when she saw the troubled look on Josiah’s face.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I just...” he began, “I ought to be getting home.”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
Josiah paused and sighed deeply. “We’re coming towards the Cathedral.”
“Yes,” Amber replied, “I know we are, I always think it looks beautiful in the early morning light, no matter what goes on there.”
“I don’t think I want to go any closer.” Josiah had gone quite pale.
Amber stopped the car and switched off the engine.
“What is it, Merlin? You can talk to me.”
“It brings back so many memories, so many feelings, it’s like I’m back there again. I don’t think I can face it today, not after everything that’s happened. Not when we’re having such a fun time.”
“It’s just a building.”
“No, it’s the home I was forced to leave behind.”
Amber said nothing, waiting for him to break the silence.
“When I was six years old, I was brought to the Church. I had scored one hundred and twelve on the Technobility score, an unprecedented achievement for one so young, so I was inducted into the faith. I left my family behind forever, I don’t even remember their names or their faces. The Circle became my family, my friends, my teachers. Especially Elijah. He watched out for me from the moment I arrived, welcoming me to my new home. I didn’t leave the Cathedral for fifteen years, never stepped foot beyond its walls. And now? Now I cannot go back, I am pariah.” Josiah was shivering and clenching his fists.
“A building is just a building,” Amber said, putting an arm on his, “and homes come and go. It’s people that matter, people that care about you.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever see Elijah again, not after all of this.”
“No, maybe not, but you can have a new family, new friends to watch out for you.”
Josiah squeezed her hand, glad that Amber was here with him.
“We can go back if you want,” Amber suggested.
“No,” Josiah said firmly, “you’re right. A building is just a building. Let’s take a look. Then we can go back.”
“Okay,” Amber said, and started up the car.
They drove over a rise in the road and the Cathedral suddenly loomed over the horizon, a gigantic needle of stone, glass and steel. Its four sides were decorated by syn-marble columns topped by steel icons, fists and hammers. The top of the Cathedral was a pyramid of glass windows and steel frames, the everlasting torch flashing to the devoted. It was the tallest building in London, built in ages past, now dedicated to the implacable God of Steel.
But Amber was right, and in the dawn light it did look beautiful. Though Josiah had seen it every day for the last five years on his journey into work, it was as if he was seeing it through amber eyes, eyes that saw form, structure and beauty. Somehow, he had never really looked at it before.
“You were right,” Josiah said.
“I know,” Amber replied, smiling, “and you’re welcome. Let’s head back.”
* * *
It was some time after 9 am that Amber’s car pulled up to Josiah’s block. He had become so engrossed in their conversation, they had somehow ended up discussing whether truth could be found in fiction, that Josiah hadn’t noticed that they were nearing the end of the journey.
“Your stop, I think” Amber said.
“Oh, I hadn’t thought we were so close.”
“Well, here we are.”
Neither of them moved. Josiah looked outside. Then turned back to Amber.
“Do you want to come in for a bit? Maybe I could get us some coffee...” It was horribly clichéd, he knew but somehow he had run out of words. Damn, the Provider was still broken. “…or something,” he added lamely.
He looked at her hopefully, not wanting to say good-bye just yet.
Amber smiled at him. “I was hoping you would ask.”
They took the elevator up to Josiah’s apartment on the 56th floor. Josiah fumbled for the key, and suddenly remembered the state he had left the room in, Provider lying on the floor, chips of plaster littering the ground. He winced but unlocked the door anyway.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, allowing her to go in first.
“This place really is a mess,” Amber said, sounding somewhat shocked.
Josiah was a bit puzzled by the surprise in her voice. Had he left the room that bad? He looked round the door. Everything had been turned upside down. Clothes had been strewn all over the floor, as if hurled in great haste. The mattress was lying mostly off the bed, the sheets nowhere to be seen. His wall-safe, where he had kept his gun, was open. Papers and notes were scattered across the workshop, along with tools and other bits of metal.
“This isn’t my mess,” said Josiah darkly.
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