Nearly four days since the bombing, and Jos found himself glued to the News once more. They had found someone alive, buried under the remains of Canary Wharf in the London Docklands. After so long, it was something of a miracle. They had detected a faint heartbeat, somehow, and even now the emergency services were gathering to dig them out. An engineer was explaining how a falling girder could have formed a roof, a tiny pocket of air, saving the person’s life. While he spoke, the ruined skeleton of the tower, its steel structure, was bare and black - a stark silhouette against the dawn sky.
Jos looked at the time. It was five to six in the morning. After that monstrous dream, he had been unable to go back to sleep, and he no longer felt like walking, or sitting in the bar. Snakeskin shoes flashed across his eyes when he least expected them, and Jonah’s words seemed engraved on his brain. Jos was too tired to read, even to think, so he watched the News, and hoped.
It was difficult work, the engineer was saying, trying to remove the rubble without disrupting the equilibrium that kept the person alive. They couldn’t use heavy machinery and were relying on hand-tools to get the job done. He gave a demonstration, and the reporter nodded earnestly, as if she had never seen a shovel before.
Suddenly, the projected image disappeared, and Jos was left staring at the wall, in near darkness. He sent a thought command to turn the lights up, but nothing happened. The clock was still working but seemed to have frozen at 5:56. What was going on? Jos reached out an arm for the controls to try to call technical support. He did not succeed. Instead, he found himself floating out of his bed. Artificial gravity had been lost, he thought, shocked and surprised. Jos had always hated weightlessness and he felt vaguely sick. If gravity had been lost, would life-support be next? How much air did they have? This was bad - really bad. He had done this trip countless times and nothing like this had ever happened before. Had they been attacked? He tried to move towards the door but ended up spinning uselessly half a metre above his bed. His breathing was fast, his pulse accelerated - he had to get out of here.
And then he collapsed into the bed as gravity reasserted itself. He banged his head against the sideboard and was still nursing it when the lights came on to medium, as he had asked. What was going on?
“Ladies and gentleman,” came an artificial voice from the telephone, “we apologise for the sudden loss of gravity. This was due to a minor technical fault, which we have now corrected. We do not expect any further problems and are sorry for any inconvenience caused.”
It didn’t seem like a minor fault to Jos. They had lost all power for close to a minute, that kind of thing just shouldn’t happen, not on a commercial ship this big. But they said they had dealt with it. Jos shrugged his shoulders and turned on the News once more. It was someone else’s problem, someone else would deal with it.
He began to think about Ammi again. He had already decided that he should call her first thing in the morning and try to say what needed saying. But what was that? Was it better to confess, tell her about the snakeskin woman? He didn’t even really know what had happened. And wouldn’t it be better for Ammi just not to know? Or would this eat away at him, destroying whatever hope their relationship had? Was it selfish of him to tell her, or not to tell her? He wasn’t good at this stuff. How do you ask for forgiveness when you have done the unforgivable?
He switched on the display to call Ammi. It was still early but if he didn’t do it now he might never find the courage again. The blue hologram displayed in the air. He entered his password, found Ammi’s number and dialled it. How did he feel about her? Did he really love her anymore? Once he had known for sure that he did, and the knowledge had been a light by which he could navigate his life. Now the light was dim, but he thought it had not quite gone out. Was the thought enough?
Wrapped up in his mind, it took him a notice to realise that the call had failed. An error message had appeared, silver on blue. He tried again but the same error message kept appearing. After trying a few more times he gave up. Jos scrolled through the ‘Welcome Guide’ he had been given when he boarded the ship, looking for the number for Tech Support. He was delighted when he didn’t get an error message. A tired, frustrated-looking technician appeared on the screen.
“Tech support, what do you want?” he asked gruffly.
“Um, my phone connection isn’t working properly,” Josiah said, “I keep getting this error message.”
“Are you dialling off-ship?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re in the same situation as everyone else. Look, we’re having some minor technical difficulties right now with the communications system. All off-ship comms are off-line. We’ll get back to you when the situation has been rectified.”
“I see,” said Jos, “and how long do you expect these repairs to take?”
“I really can’t say.”
“Do you expect it to be fixed in the next ten minutes?”
“I doubt it.”
“The next hour then?”
“I shouldn’t think so. Look, I’ve got to go, we’re really very busy down here. We will let you know when off-ship comms are back online.”
The display went dark.
If the difficulty was so minor, Jos thought, you would think that, being technicians, they would be able to deal with it relatively promptly. There certainly were a lot of minor technical difficulties this morning, which seemed more than coincidence. But Jos could not help but feel somewhat relieved that he was unable to talk to Ammi. What would he have said, anyway? Better to talk face to face. And yet he should want to talk to her, shouldn’t he? The relief he felt tasted bitter.
He closed his eyes and dozed off for a short while. Soon, however, he was woken by the voice of Major Cassandra. Her hard face filled the display once more.
“Attention all passengers, this is Major Cassandra, Chief of Security.”
Bleary eyed, Jos thought he could detect a hint of stress or worry in her face that had not been there before.
“For your security, we regret that all non-essential personnel are to go to their cabins and remain there until further notice. This is just a precaution and there is no reason to worry. We apologise for the inconvenience to your journey.”
Something was definitely wrong. The power-cut, the loss of off-ship communications, and now everyone was confined to their rooms? What was the link and did it have something to do with Jonah? He had allegedly killed several people, perhaps some on this very ship. He had seemed odd, certainly, but not a killer. But there was a certain madness in his eyes. It wasn’t always there but sometimes... It chilled the bones to see it. Perhaps he was criminally insane, multiple personalities and all that. But that wasn’t it either. The label was easy but didn’t fit. There was something terribly sane about him, and a constancy of character beneath his behaviour. Who was he?
No answer was forthcoming.
He tried to sleep once more but a moment later the door chimed. Jos opened it with a thought.
Standing in the corridor were two heavily built figures, wearing the solid black-steel uniforms and black cloaks of Ship Security. Even with guns holstered and visors up they were a menacing sight, enough to send a chill down Jos’ spine though he had done nothing wrong. Why was he afraid? Beneath the steel, they were only human.
“Can I help you?” Jos asked.
“The major would like to see you,” said one.
“Of course, my pleasure. Straight away?”
“Straight away.”
“It is very early.”
“The major was most insistent.”
“May I ask why she wants to see me?”
“The major will explain, sir.”
“I see,” said Jos, thinking it best not to argue with men with guns.
He put on shoes and coat, being largely dressed already, and followed the guards out the door. Why send two guards after him? What did they think he would do? Fairly sure Jonah was involved in this somewhere, Jos followed the guards down the corridor.
Apart from several Security patrols, they did not meet anyone else en route. With all passengers confined to their cabins this was not unexpected, but the sheer number of guards now marching up and down the ship was intimidating and made the whole situation seem all the more dangerous.
Major Cassandra, Chief of Security, was waiting for him in her office. She did not rise as he entered, but continued reading a datapad on the desk in front of her. Jos scanned the room quickly. It was sparse and cold, bare metal walls and neither a picture nor a photograph was to be seen. The desk was uncluttered, everything arranged in neat piles or hidden in a complex of drawers. The black plastic chairs seemed to be the only concession to human comfort - they had small, hard cushions fixed to their seats. A second look revealed to Jos the hidden camera in the corner of the room, a section of wall that slid away - probably a safe - and a secret compartment in the desk. When he looked at the major, he found she had put down her pad and was scrutinising him.
“You are dismissed,” she said to the guards, who saluted and marched out the room.
“Josiah Smith, or may I call you Jos?”
“You may. And you are Major Cassandra, or may I call you Cass?”
“No. You will address me as Major.”
“Fair enough. May I sit down?”
“You may,” said the major, without a hint of a smile.
“Mr. Josiah Samuel Smith,” she continued when Jos had sat down, “married to Ammi Smith, and lecturer in higher mathematics at the University of London where you have worked for the last fifteen years.”
Jos nodded, though he noticed that Major Cassandra had not asked him a question. She was not an old woman, she seemed to be in her early forties, but there was something much older in her stare. Her face was very angular, with strong cheekbones and a pointed chin that looked almost sharp enough to cause an injury. Her lips were tightly pressed together as she continued to scrutinise this man sitting opposite her.
Jos coughed to break the silence. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes,” the major blinked and broke eye-contact. “A certain felon entered your room yesterday, correct?”
“If you mean Jonah, then yes.”
“Of course I mean Jonah, and I know that I am correct. I am always correct.” The major rose from her chair, paced a little, then stood behind her chair with her hands resting on its back. “He could have entered any room on the ship. Why yours?”
“Perhaps it was simply easiest.”
“Far from it. The felon crossed half the ship, and dodged several patrols. Moreover, though other doors nearby were unlocked, the felon bypassed the security on your door to gain entrance.”
“I see. Well, maybe he just wanted to chat.”
“This was not the first time you had met the felon?”
“No, I met him the day before. We had coffee.”
“I know. You were together when we apprehended him. What did you talk about?”
“The usual - life, death, dreams, love.”
The major raised an eyebrow. “On both occasions?” she asked sceptically.
“Yes, more or less. More about death the second time, I suppose. He told me that I should speak to my wife before it was too late.”
“And what do you think he meant by this remark?”
“I don’t know, I think he just wanted to help.”
“I see. So the felon escapes captivity, and the first thing he does is go out for coffee with a stranger in a public place where he is sure to be found and recaptured. While there, I am to believe that he discusses with you the meaning of life. The next time he escapes, he travels halfway across the ship, at great risk of discovery, to offer marital advice. Perhaps I’m crazy but that seems just a little implausible.”
“Maybe it’s Jonah who is crazy.”
The major laughed derisively, without a trace of humour.
“Him? No. Dangerous, psychopathic, delusional, but not scatterbrained. He is cold and calculating. He never does anything without a reason. Why did he come to see you?”
“I really don’t know, I’m sorry, I wish I could help you.”
“No you don’t, you have no idea who or what he is.”
“Look, I barely know Jonah,” said Jos, getting agitated by her implications. “I only met him two days ago. We hardly talked. It couldn’t have been longer than a few minutes. He seemed a little strange but I honestly had no idea he was a criminal.”
Major Cassandra leaned forward, glaring at him, before sitting back in her chair. She folded her arms.
“Let me tell you something about your new friend, Mr. Smith, so you know what kind of a man he is the next time he drops in for a ‘chat’. It was a few years ago, in a small town in the midwest. A guy named Kuranes lived there, had a big house, a wife, two small kids. He was a businessman, had brought money and jobs to the town, really built the place up. And do you know what Jonah did, this ‘friend’ of yours?
“One night he broke into the house. He killed every single one of them in cold blood. The servants, the cook, the kids. They were only five and six years old. He murdered every man, woman and child in that house, and then set it on fire. The whole mansion burned to the ground. And then he just walked away, calm as could be.”
Jos was stunned, and could say nothing. The major pressed on relentlessly.
“The police found him, of course, it was like he wanted them to. Fourteen miles away they caught up with him, still walking. The bastard killed three cops before they could bring him down.”
Major Cassandra’s face, usually hard and emotionless, erupted with anger.
“So now we’re taking him to the penal colony, and guess what? He has somehow escaped twice and callously murdered two of my guards. Killed them without warning or mercy. Now I ask you, Mr. Smith, is this the kind of man you want walking freely around the ship?”
She visibly slumped in her chair for a moment but the cold mask returned almost immediately.
“So, is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“But I’ve told you everything I know, what else can I do?” Did he really want to help her, even after everything she had said about Jonah? He didn’t know but was being as honest as possible.
“Tell me where he might be. Where could he hide? Who could he run to?”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know.”
“He said you should call your wife ‘before it was too late’. What did he mean? Was he just talking about the communications blackout?”
“I really don’t know, he said that there was something going on onboard the ship but he didn’t give me any details. I don’t know anything else about it.”
The major’s eyes narrowed as she burrowed her gaze into his eyes.
“Fine,” she said, “I’ll give you time to think about it. You remember anything that might help, you let me know.”
Major Cassandra turned back to the datapad. Jos stood to leave.
“Believe me,” Cassandra said, “Jonah is planning something. No one on this ship is safe, Josiah, believe me. Remember, I am never wrong.”
Mind awhirl, Jos turned and left.
* * *
Lying in bed, Jos was lost in thought. Exhausted from sleeping so little the last few nights, his mind flitted from subject to subject, like a moth between two naked flames. Jonah had killed many times. This was the truth, it had been written all over Major Cassandra’s face, and Jonah had not denied it. Jos had to accept that Jonah was a killer. Ammi was unreachable. He could not speak to her, and some part of him feared that he never would again. Was that what Jonah had meant? How could he have known unless he were responsible? And if he hadn’t meant that, what had he meant? No, the technicians would get the communications back online. He would speak to her soon. To kill in self-defence... that was one thing. But cold-blooded murder? With the bombing in London, what would Ammi think when he didn’t call? At home they would be just starting lectures right about now. He was trapped in a giant metal box, floating in the black of space. Women! Children! It was unthinkable, monstrous...
He stood beneath an endless blue sky, dark but getting lighter as the sun gathered its might and prepared to rise. Pale rays poured over the land, turning frost into diamonds, and the earth into gold. But there was no warmth here.
Behind him was the fire, burning fiercely. No one and nothing could stop it now. The smell of charred timbers reached his nose, which was odd. He had always been told that you cannot smell in dreams.
Then the dogs began to bark. Or perhaps they had always been barking. They were coming closer. He could hear shouts: “Over this way” “I have the trail” “Follow me!”
He tried to run, but no matter how fast he moved his legs, his feet hardly moved. Inch by inch he crawled away, the barking in his ears growing louder all the time.
He tripped, fell, and crashed to the ground. The dogs were right behind him. He turned. Jonah stood there, eyes ablaze, finger pointing accusingly.
“Jos,” he intoned.
“Jos, Jos!”
He opened his eyes and saw Jonah standing in the room, hair a dishevelled mess, calling his name.
“What is it?” Jos muttered blearily.
“We have work to do,” Jonah replied, strolling over to the bed.
“What are you talking about?” Becoming more awake every second, it occurred to Jos that, firstly, his door had been securely locked; secondly, that there were two Security guards standing outside; and thirdly, that Jonah was a convicted murderer.
“How did you get in?” He asked, somewhat alarmed.
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we get to work. We may not have much time.”
“We? I’m not going with you.”
“No?” Jonah’s eyes burned with passion. “So, Josiah Smith, you would lie here in bed, would you? Lie in bed wasting away on wasted dreams? Lie in bed while the world collapses around you? Who do you think you are? The fate of many rests in our hands. We, and we alone, can make the difference between life and death. The power-failure, the communications blackout - they were nothing! That was just the beginning.”
“What are you saying? How do you know?”
“Do you know how many people there are aboard this ship? The crew alone come to two hundred and eighty, the passengers number one thousand, five-hundred and sixty-eight. Would you let them die?”
“Are you threatening them?” Jos asked, thoroughly confused.
“Far from it. We are their only hope.”
“Who are we protecting them from?” Jos asked, his readiness to hand Jonah over to Security diminishing with every moment spent in his company.
“From Them,” Jonah said with distaste, “I do not know exactly who or why, but someone is trying to destroy this ship. Make it burn like Canary Wharf.”
“New Luddites,” said Jos with scorn.
“Possibly. They might want you to believe that, anyway. I feel that there are bigger and more powerful forces at work here than a bunch of technological philistines. But I cannot be sure just yet. There is a deep conspiracy, and anyone could be part of it. Anyone but you. Of all people on this ship, I trust you alone. You trusted me when no one else would.”
“No, stop, stop. I can’t deal with this. This is too much. Let’s leave it to Security. Major Cassandra can handle it.
“She may be part of it!” Jonah insisted. “Only we can stop this madness.”
“I’m just a lecturer, a scientist. I can’t sort out my own problems, how can I save a ship. Who am I? I’m no hero, I’m nothing.”
Jonah did not say anything for a few moments, and when he did his voice was cool like summer rain.
“There is no one who is born a hero. Who we are is measured by what we do. All we can hope for is an opportunity to try. I give you that opportunity. Let history judge who were the heroes.”
Jonah held out his hand.
“Are you with me?”
Deep inside himself, Jos found a strength he not imagined he possessed. No matter what the major had said, Jonah was sincere. Jos did not doubt that he meant well. The only question was whether or not he was right. He gripped Jonah’s hand.
“I’m with you but I accept nothing without proof. Show me there is a real danger to the ship, and you and I will work to save it. Without solid evidence, we will not act.”
Jonah smiled. “I ask for nothing more.”
“How are we going to get out? The guards are still outside, and they have cameras everywhere.”
“Don’t worry about the cameras,” Jonah replied, “they won’t see us. And I suppose we’ll have to go out the way I came in - the ventilation shaft.”
Jonah lifted a panel off the wall and crawled in the narrow tunnel beyond. Soon, he had disappeared. Jos had a moment of doubt. He was leaving behind everything he knew, following a murderer and trying to be a hero. But there was something about Jonah, and Jos found he trusted him. He pulled himself into the hole and followed Jonah into the darkness.
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