Darkness dissolved into light.
From nothingness all he could see was fire, fire burning hot and bright. And yet he was cold. And could not move.
The light was fleeting, the warmth fading - the darkness more than real.
Steel chains bound his arms and legs, rusted links wore at his wrists and ankles. The constant sound of dripping water played out a never-ending riff. Water swirled and danced around the stone cobbles and pooled around his feet, covered with the filth of eternity. And yet his mouth was dry beyond enduring. And the water was out of reach.
If he felt anything, it was abject terror.
He knew he was alone despite the darkness. No, it wasn’t dark. Fire burned in braziers, fixed at equal intervals along the wall, flickering like ghosts, more dead than alive. And the walls stretched beyond the end of the world, beyond the brink of forever.
And then he was in the jungle, running, running. The unbearable green burnt his eyes, the cascading water plunged his hair to rivers, the undergrowth tore at his tattered clothes. But he was running, and nothing else mattered.
He was a jaguar, fleet of foot, king of the jungle, deadly hunter. His claws were like steel vices, his teeth like industrial diamonds. And his prey was close. The infuriating stench of its sweat filled his mind with visions of death and blood, of red and green.
The water did not matter, the thickness of the air he fought was irrelevant - the only thing in the world was his prey. He had to run.
And then he was the prey and was still running, running, fighting the pain of a broken arm - he knew that a piece of metal was stuck in his flesh. Cold sweat mingled with the gushing water but there was no oblivion.
His antlers caught a branch and he was slowed for an instant - the pause was deadly - the hunter was upon him.
This is a dream, he thought, and smiled to himself. There is no pain and no water. With a leap he sailed high into the air and left the hunter far behind. This is a dream, and here I can fly.
But he could not fly, and so he fell down with the rain, faster than teardrops, plummeting to the green earth and the dark ribbon of silver. The ribbon rushed to meet him, its waters closed over his head.
This is a dream, he thought, and I can swim. And so he did. But he saw that fish too can swim, and they gathered around him, sunlight flashed off bared fangs. Then all around him, the water turned from green to red.
He was the hunter, laughing at his folly.
He was the hunted, crying into blood.
He was the fish, extracting his pound of flesh.
He is you, and you are me, and I am everyone.
“You are not My people. And you are not forgiven.”
* * *
“Well Mr Smith, this is a pleasant surprise.”
Jos sat bolt upright - his dreams slipped away. Why wasn’t he at home? Where was he?
A few seconds later his memories flooded back. He was in the brig, a prisoner of Ship Security. All told, it wasn’t bad, for a prison. The fluorescent lights were unbearably bright to look at and yet cast only an indistinct light. Reading in here would have been difficult. As he didn’t have a book, it was even more difficult. He had a bed - neither too hard nor too soft, covered in grey syn-cotton blankets - and a chair. The walls were bare and white. He had sat on the bed to think - what would he say when the major questioned him? Had she intended to detonate the mine with the power drain or was she merely another victim of circumstance? Jos had seen her order the shut down but could not know for certain why she had ordered it. He had sat down on the bed to order his thoughts, and must have fallen asleep. Now Cassandra was here, and he had no answers - were there any answers to be had? He was so tired.
He looked at the major, with lines of worry etched into her sharp forehead but with a strange zeal in her eyes. To her left was a guard in black, his face invisible behind his helmet, but the major did not need the protection: a wall of energy divided them, barely visible but very real.
“Quite awake now, Mr Smith?” A condescending smile played across her lips.
“Yes, Major,” he replied, barely stifling a yawn, “but call me Jos.”
“Time is short. Can we do this the easy way?”
“Believe me, right now I’d like nothing better.”
“Okay then, where is Jonah?” Cassandra fixed him with a steely glare.
“I honestly don’t know where he is. Last I saw him was in corridor 28, just before your guards knocked me out.”
“Well then, what are his plans?”
Jos said nothing. He desperately wanted to put his trust in the Major. She was in charge of Security, surely this should be her responsibility. Or was she working with Them, trying to destroy the ship? Jos wished he could talk this out with Jonah.
“I’ll ask you again, Mr Smith, what does Jonah plan to do?”
Jos sighed. He might as well go for it.
“Look, Major,” he said, “you have to understand what’s going on here. There is a group of terrorists on board this ship. Possibly Luddites as they seem to want to destroy us or take over somehow. I can’t say for certain. Someone embedded a mine deep within the computer system, someone with a vast technical knowledge of this ship...”
He searched Cassandra’s face for a hint of guilt or innocence but found nothing.
“Then there was the power-cut, which could have been orchestrated by virtually anyone with some technical knowledge but it deliberately targeted only nonessential systems. When the power came back online, the computer automatically ran a diagnostic. This mine was set to trigger at just such a deep-level scan. It went off, scrambling all the off-ship communication systems so badly that no one would be able to repair the damage. This was done to isolate us, and prevent us from calling for help.
“Then they targeted the engines, both to prevent me from learning more about their operation and to prevent the ship from changing its course. It seems then that destroying the ship is not their current goal, as otherwise it could have been done from engineering.
“But the explosion came too late, I had already accessed a classified video exposing the person who initiated the power-cut. Major, I saw you give the order.”
Cassandra snorted. “Me? I expected a better lie from an intelligent man. You should have blamed the captain and tried to get me on your side.”
“I know what I saw - you ordered protocol 56. Why did you do it?”
“You know what you think you saw, but since I did no such thing, you did not see me. Though I wonder how you know the protocol number. Perhaps you are more foolish than I thought - Jonah has obviously distracted you with some sort of computer trickery.”
“Listen to me. Jonah asked me to help him stop this catastrophe from happening. I’ve seen the evidence - these people are real, our danger is real. He isn’t the psychopath you think he is - everything he has done he has had good justification for, and he is doing his best to save all of our lives. If you didn’t order the protocol, and if you won’t help him, at least you can let him get on with saving all of us.”
“I never expected you to fall for his lies, Mr Smith. He has you wound around his fingers. Let me tell you what’s true. There are no terrorists onboard this ship. There is no conspiracy. There are only two people who are doing wrong, and we have one of them in custody.
“Your ‘friend’ escaped our cell us early in the morning and cut the power to the systems, causing the mine he planted to crash the communication systems. He fooled you into thinking that he’s the hero and I’m the villain - and then he blew up the engine room under your nose!”
“But why take me along at all? He could have done it alone,” protested Jos.
“Didn’t you think about it? Every time you pass a camera, the computer scans you. We would have caught Jonah in an instant had he tried anything alone. But you, you’re a registered passenger on this ship, and the systems required to change that have been frozen out. He’s been running in your shadow, the computer scanning you and missing him. Your signal has been masking his. He’s been using you, Josiah - using you to get to the places where we are most vulnerable.
“But now he’s taken out the cameras as well. They went down with the engine room. If it wasn’t for an eagle-eyed passenger we would never have caught you.”
Could any of this be true? Was Jonah just using him? He didn’t think so, he had seen real conviction in Jonah’s eyes. Jonah had believed everything he said.
“He couldn’t have placed the mine, though,” Jos reminded her, “he would never have been able to.”
Major Cassandra’s jaw clenched tightly.
“He would never have been able to?” she hissed, losing control. “He designed this entire starship!”
Surely not! He hadn’t said anything about this.
“You don’t believe me, do you? Didn’t you wonder how he managed to escape from the brig? Twice? Didn’t you wonder how he knew all the escape routes, all the secret passages?
“You really didn’t think to ask, did you? I suppose I understand. Jonah can be very persuasive when he wants to be. It must have been easy to take him at his word.”
It couldn’t be true, could it? But it made so much sense. He trusted Jonah, had trusted him with his life. He didn’t know what to believe.
“Have you already forgotten Canary Wharf?” Cassandra continued relentlessly. “Let me remind you that five days ago the worst terrorist attack in European history hit London. Thousands were murdered. Did you think it was a coincidence that we were taking Jonah to Luna-City? He is suspected of involvement with the New Luddites - we think he may have planned the bombing from prison. Jonah is up to his neck in this - but we need him if we are to find the terrorists. It isn’t too late to stop him before he finishes the job he started in London - you can still make a difference. Help us. Help us to track him down.”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, “I have to think.”
“You do that, but don’t take too long,” she said, turning to go, “we don’t have much time.”
She stopped, as if struck by a sudden thought.
“And think about this as well. Your analysis of the situation was incomplete. The retros were blown up in the engine room. We can neither slow down nor change direction. In precisely two hundred and twenty-four minutes, we will collide with Luna-City at maximum speed, crashing into the dome that protects millions from the vacuum of space.
“And while you’re thinking,” she turned once more and began to walk out, “you can watch this video. Incoming transmissions are still online…”
She turned to leave the room, followed by the Security Guard.
“Wait,” Jos called, a sudden thought coming to him, “what happened to that guy under Canary Wharf? Did they get him out in time?”
“The heartbeat they found?” Cassandra asked. “News just came in. It was a false signal - the man had been dead all along.”
She left the room and pressed a button on the wall. A projection formed on the other side of the barrier, just static at first but then the picture resolved. It was some sort of office, books lined the walls, and there, sitting at the desk, looking tired but elated, was Ammi.
“Um, hi Jos. I’ve been trying to get through to you all morning,” she was obviously nervous but excited, her hand absently played with the diamond pendant around her neck. “I didn’t want to leave you a message like this but I can’t seem to get through and I just couldn’t wait any more - I have to tell someone.” She paused, and took a deep breath.
“I’m pregnant, Jos. I thought it was too late for us but, well, it obviously wasn’t. I know you’ll be as happy as I am. Well, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
The image froze for a moment.
“Um, hi Jos. I’ve been trying to get through to you all morning…”
Over and over Ammi told him the news, she was pregnant. They had tried so hard, for so long. This was the fresh start they needed. He would drop his time machine, move out to Luna-city and they would bring up their child together. She would be beautiful, just like her mother… two hundred and twenty-four minutes. She was going to die in less than four hours, they were all going to die.
“…I’m pregnant, Jos. I thought it was too late for us, but, well, it obviously wasn’t…”
He had to do something. What could he do? Who was right? He couldn’t believe Jonah was a terrorist - and yet the major’s version of events made sense - but no. Where had Jonah got the equipment to hack into the mainframe, anyway? But he seemed to care, not just to seem to care - he was so earnest, so fervent in his beliefs, they couldn’t be lies. Cassandra didn’t seem like a villain.
“…I thought it was too late for us, but, well…”
And he had betrayed her! Broken the deepest trust. They had sworn to be faithful forever, to love until death. For red lips and snakeskin shoes he had sold his promise. Why had he done it?
“…I’m pregnant, Jos…”
Over and over Ammi told him, over and over she said she loved him. She was willing to give it another chance. Could there be forgiveness even for him? He had to save her. Salvation was not owed to him but there was a chance. This could be a new beginning. Less than four hours. if only he could think what to do. All he could see was snakeskin shoes, and the burnt-out shell of Canary Wharf. He shut his eyes but Ammi’s voice filled his mind.
“I’m pregnant… too late for us, but…”
It began to sound accusatory. He had to do something but what? Who was right, Jonah or Cassandra? He had to think it out but the voice was too much.
Minutes seemed like hours, and Ammi’s voice was the only measure Jos had of time.
By his reckoning it had been nearly thirty minutes since Major Cassandra had left but he couldn’t be sure. If only she would be quiet so he could work out what he had to do. He was so tired.
That would make it easier, so much easier - to go to sleep and forget it all. In three and a half hours what difference would it make? To sleep through the end of the world and beyond. He was so weary of it all and what could he hope to achieve? Stuck in this doll’s house for the amusement of Security. Even if he wanted to bring in Jonah, he didn’t know how he could. He could do nothing at all. And he was exhausted beyond measure. It would be so easy to sleep, to lose himself in dreams. But he could not - he had been given another chance and he had to take it - if not now, when?
“…I have to tell someone…”
And then he saw the shadow, where there should have been only white wall.
No one was around but Jos knew the hidden camera was trained on him. Getting up slowly, as if stretching, Jos walked across the room and examined the wall, trying to look nonchalant. He had been with Jonah long enough to recognise a hidden tunnel when he saw one. Jos smiled. He’d get out of here, find Jonah and find out the truth for himself. He had to do this quickly.
He stretched again - I must look like a fool, he thought. In a single motion he removed the panel, threw himself feet first inside, and pulled it tight behind him. Now he had to find Jonah.
“…it’s too late for us…”
* * *
By the time he had found Jonah he had been able to do some thinking. Firstly, it was too much of a coincidence that he had been able to escape so easily. The only reason he could think of was that he had been allowed to escape. Maybe Major Cassandra didn’t think he would help her willingly, so put a tracer on him and let him break out. It seemed highly plausible but there was nothing he could do - he had to talk to Jonah.
That was the second thing: he wouldn’t accept the major’s version of events without talking to Jonah first. They had been through a lot together and he owed him a fair hearing.
And thirdly: he would do anything to save Ammi and his unborn child. Even if it cost him his life.
But exactly how he would find Jonah was something he had barely considered. As he had escaped, Jos had given it no thought. It had seemed obvious. If he escaped then he would inevitably meet up with Jonah again. Somehow, despite the fact that Jonah had eluded capture by an entire force of station security, Jos was sure they would find each other. They had to, there wasn’t much time. It was totally irrational, the ship was huge, and yet Jos knew it would happen.
So when they bumped into each other in a corridor, neither was much surprised.
“Jonah, we need to talk.”
“Yes we do, but we haven’t much time.”
“I know. I think I’ve been bugged.”
“Yes but it doesn’t matter. They will find us anyway, when the time is right.”
“When the time is right? What does that mean?”
“You’ll see, not long now, it’s nearly over.”
“Where can we talk?”
“This way.”
* * *
Like snakes, Jonah’s hair curled to and fro. Everything was in free motion, and, to his surprise, Jos found the sensation not unpleasant. In fact, he was enjoying it - there was no up and no down, not here - here, he was beyond such trivialities - he was free. In perfect motion Jos flew across the room swimming through air like water - he could think freely here - all was calm.
“In just over three hours we’re going to crash into the dome of Luna-city,” the ease with which he said this was almost shocking - it barely felt real in this place. “Everyone on this ship will die, maybe everyone on the surface too.”
“I know,” replied Jonah softly, his blue eyes were cold and sad.
“The major thinks you are responsible for this.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“That’s no answer. What do you think?”
“My head tells me you’re involved - the evidence seems too great to be mere circumstance - but my heart tells me you’re not.”
“And to which do you listen?”
“As a rule, my head, but now… Well, things change, don’t they?”
“All too soon, and all too much,” Jonah said sadly. “She told you I designed this ship, didn’t she? That was what swayed you. The rest you could ignore but why hadn’t I mentioned that?”
Jos nodded.
“And the computer as well,” Jonah continued, pointing to the black box still linked to the wires in the wall, “you don’t understand how I got that unless I am involved with other people onboard this ship.”
Jos nodded again.
“I need to know everything Jonah. Can I trust you?”
“Jos, I have never lied to you.”
“I know, but nor have you told me everything.”
“I was afraid of what you would think. It was pure stupidity on my part. I had trusted you with everything else, I should have trusted you completely. Let us hope it’s not too late.
“Fifty-six years ago, before the Archangel invaded our town, I was a starship engineer. I designed this ship and others of its kind - the first wave of public transportation to Luna-city. Fifty-six years! Soon it will be time to rest.
“It was when I was in prison that I got the call. A voice I didn’t recognise, a man’s voice, I thought, smooth, silky, persuasive. He offered me a way out, another chance. I said I would take it - I wish I hadn’t, I have wished it more times than I can count, but at the time it sounded reasonable.
“I was to be transferred to the prison facilities on Luna-city, for high-risk criminals - ha! - but the voice said I would be allowed to start a new life. All I had to do was do some minor damage to the ship - cause a power drain - the voice said it would be a warning about technology, a small gesture that it couldn’t be relied upon; I don’t know why I believed him.
“I know this ship better than I know myself. There are newer ships doing the journey to the moon. It was the voice that put me on this ship, knowing that I would be able to escape any prison and overcome all obstacles. That will be his downfall.
“Of course I knew where the Zero-Site was - I designed the ship, and so he put this machine here for me to find. But I never cut the power, not after Canary Wharf. I was afraid of what could happen here, so I did nothing, hoping to reach Luna-city and escape to a new life. I should have acted sooner, maybe I could have prevented all this... But we still have some time.
“How do I know there is a conspiracy, Josiah? I know because I was a part of that conspiracy. There are others on this ship - someone planted this computer and ordered the power drain. Perhaps Cassandra herself was the voice - it was encrypted beyond recognition. I am here as insurance for Them - if everything goes wrong, I will get the blame. If it goes according to their plans, no one will live to tell the tale.
“I should have told you, I’m sorry. Will you trust me again?”
Jos thought about what Jonah had said as he drifted across the room, his hair flailing slowly around his face. There was no decision to make. He had trusted Jonah with his life and would do so over and over again. Luna-city was doomed unless he could knock the ship off course - that no one had done so yet was further proof that those in charge were involved in the plot. But if he could vent the plasma into the starboard thrusters, the force ought to knock them from their trajectory. Then they could fix the communications and someone would rescue them. It sounded easy.
Jonah was watching him with a crooked smile.
“What are we waiting for?” Jos said, returning the grin, “we have a city to save.”
“And there isn’t much time.”
No comments:
Post a Comment