Part a is here.
And then he knew what he had to do. He did not know how but he had no doubts, no doubts at all...
If he had had any doubts, he should never have begun. Now there was no choice, no choice at all. Lovecraft sank to the floor, a gaping hole in his chest. Blood splattered across the corridor, spraying all over Duke’s clean clothes and Thee’s white glove. And everything seemed to happen so slowly.
Was he doing the right thing? He knew he was right, and Amber agreed but now he had to deal with it. There was no choice - he would not let Amber die.
A ghastly smile on his face, Lovecraft crashed to the ground. And already Duke was turning, his mammoth body turning so slowly. The gun in his hands would never fire. He could not think, he had to shoot, if not for himself then for Amber.
He aimed the gun, closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. What else could he do? He had been left with no options, no options at all.
Duke’s right hand dropped the gun. His left hand moved up to his chest instinctively as Josiah’s bullet passed clean through it, and exploded out the other side in a fountain of vivid red. Duke’s lifeblood boiled away. He had no last words but his face was a picture of stunned shock.
A flash and something hot burned across Josiah’s back. Another flash.
He looked up at saw Theano fall to the floor, her brains scattered against the walls. Amber held a gun in her shaking hands.
“She…” Amber forced herself to swallow. “She was going to shoot you.”
“We’re safe. You can drop the gun.”
“We killed them,” she gasped, her eyes were wide open, staring into the middle distance, her knuckles were white from clenching the grip.
“We did what we had to do,” he answered, as gently as he could. They had not had any other choice. If only they had listened to reason.
Amber nodded somewhat doubtfully, and managed to release her hold on the gun. It clattered to the floor.
Josiah put his hand to his back. It came back red with blood. Theano’s bullet must have literally scraped across his skin.
“Come on,” Josiah said, “we have to get out of here.”
She nodded again, gulped down a breath of air and together they headed down the corridor towards the skyway.
It was unbelievable, really. How had he managed to do those things? Not long ago he hadn’t even been able to fire a gun. How was he able to keep walking, as blood trickled down his back? The human mind was truly a powerful thing. Such power…
“Lean on me,” Josiah said, seeing that Amber was still limping.
She put an arm round his shoulders and they hobbled down the corridor, the skyway just ahead of them, past the pools of blood on the concrete floor.
He held the broken picture in his hands and fell to the floor, no longer able to hold back the tears. He had failed them, had failed everyone - look at the mess he had made of his life. Just look at it! He clutched the photograph tight and sobbed.
If anyone could see me now, what would they think? I must pull myself together, there must be something I can do. Surely it can get no worse. I must think, drink my coffee and think.
Reverently he put the picture back on the mantelpiece, found a handkerchief to blow his nose, and settled down into his chair. What should I do? Forget the whole thing. I’ve done nothing to help anyone, no one believes me. I’ll just stay in the house and forget it. Maybe nothing bad will ever happen. Perhaps I can finish the machine, do something useful for once, and then I can make it all better. If only I could find a power source…
The sudden sound of the telephone interrupted his chain of thought. Eyeing the ringing device suspiciously, Josiah went over and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Hi there, this is John Johnson from the News…” but Josiah had already hung up. He couldn’t bear to even listen to such a voice, and had no intention of talking to anyone about this mess.
The phone rang again. I should let it ring. And he did. But there was something about the incessant noise that would not be ignored - I am a slave.
“Hello?”
“Josiah Smith? Hi, my name’s Lauren Lawrence and I was wondering if I could…”
He almost threw the receiver against the wall in disgust. No more questions. Out of habit he found himself putting the receiver back on the hook. Instantly, it rang again. This time he ignored it.
But it did not go away.
He lifted the receiver and put it down again. It rang instantly. This was insane. Did none of these people have better things to do?
He left it off the hook this time, and sat down in the armchair. Maybe now I’ll have a moments peace. He lifted the cup of coffee to his lips.
The phone rang again.
What!? He could have sworn he had left the receiver off the hook - but there it was. He lifted the handset.
“Damn it!” he shouted down the phone, “can’t you people give an old man a moment’s break!?”
“Josiah, is that you?”
It was Eli. He felt such a fool.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry about that, I’ve just had all sorts of people on the phone.”
“I’m sure you have,” Eli said, his voice sounding, what? sad? disappointed? It was hard to tell when it was disembodied.
“Look, I’m sorry about the paper, I…” What excuse could he give?
“We should meet up and talk about it.”
“Great idea.” Would he listen? There was slim chance of that. But maybe Josiah could smooth over some of the cracks. Somehow.
“What about Café de la Lune?”
“Suits me. What time?”
“How about seven thirty? I’ll buy you supper.”
“Thanks. Sure. Eli, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay, we’ll talk tonight.”
“Sure.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
This time, he made certain to leave the phone off the hook.
He was certain of what he was doing, this time at least. How he knew, he could not say, but this was the correct console, and these were the correct switches.
The doors made a strange crinkling sound. Someone was trying to get in but the doors were totally sealed.
He returned to the panel, and flicked the first switch. Red lights started to blink.
“Jonah! This is Security!” Major Cassandra’s voice echoed around the room. Was she on the intercom or just outside the door? Certainly someone was outside, pounding hard against the steel.
“Jonah! You must cease your activities and surrender to us.”
“I have already ceased,” said Jonah playfully, still sitting in his corner.
“But I haven’t. I’m going to save this ship even if no one else will. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Josiah, open this door right now.”
“I can’t do that major, not until I’m finished.”
There was a sudden hiss, and a section of the door began to glow.
“You hear that Josiah? That is the sound of us burning down the door. Let us in before it’s too late.”
“Too late? Too late? In fifty-six minutes we are going to crash into Luna-city. I’ve seen how thick the doors are, how long will it take you to cut through them? I’m trying to save all of our lives, stop bothering me and let me get on with it.”
The major’s voice was silent. The section of the door began to glow a dull red colour, like rust or dried blood. Josiah flicked the next switch. They were going to make it.
They were going to make it. Just ahead, Josiah could see the double doors, the doors that led to the skyway and freedom. He remembered crossing this hall as a child, while the others ran to the arms of their mothers and fathers. But his parents never came. They had been dead a long time, he barely remembered their faces. Had the Circle killed them too? Perhaps. Soon he would be free of their control forever. Just a few more metres.
Amber’s weight grew heavy as she leant on his shoulders more and more. His own leg ached as he imagined her pain.
Neither of them spoke. There was simply nothing to say. They had been captured, tortured and almost killed - they had just been forced to shoot their best friends. Even if they got out of here, neither of them would ever be the same again. But at least they would be alive.
And then they were at the doors, and Josiah pushed them open.
Brilliant light streamed through the opened doors, and Josiah was blinded. How long had they been inside? Could it be dawn already?
The night had left a parting gift of frost, that covered the tarmac of the level 28 skyway. It was almost beautiful, sparkling like silver - silver on black. But God it was cold.
They crossed the threshold and stood blinking in the sunshine. They were out. Now they just had to get away.
And then from behind them came a soul-destroying sound - the unmistakable noise of guns being drawn. Not now, not again.
They turned slowly, and there was Elisha, looking supercilious in her formal white coat. Her iron-grey hair was loose about her face, and gave her the appearance of an aura or a halo. Behind her were half a dozen Security guards, with visors down and rifles aimed.
“You have led us a fine chase, Josiah, but your time has run out.”
The time was 7:35 and Eli was late. Josiah would have paced up and down nervously but was too tired. At least he’d got rid of the hangover, that would have been terrible. He looked bad enough as it was. What should he say? There was nothing he could say, nothing that would make things better. But Eli had asked him to come, and Eli would start the talking. What was the point of planning it all out, anyway - he’d only forget. But where was Eli?
And then he arrived, looking totally calm, almost as if it was Josiah that was late, not him. Eli’s brown hair seemed immaculate, despite its wildness - was it going white? Surely Eli was not that old. But Josiah felt the weight of years.
“Josiah,” Eli beamed, with such joy that Josiah for the first time doubted its sincerity, “good of you to come. Shall we go inside?”
“Sure. Beats standing out here in the cold.”
A rather brusque waitress showed them to their table and presented them with menus.
“I recommend the fish,” said Eli, as he picked up the menu and started to browse through it.
Not wanting to seem rude, Josiah did the same, though his eyes merely scanned the words - his mind was somewhere else completely. He wished that Eli would just say whatever he had to say - if they were going to eat together, Josiah wished they could eat as friends, like old times, not like this. But he didn’t want to force anything, or embarrass himself again, and so he said nothing, and had still not read the menu when the waiter appeared.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Wine please.”
“Just water thank you.”
“Still or sparkling?”
“Look, I don’t care. Just give me some water.”
The waiter eyed him suspiciously.
“And to eat?”
“I’ll have the fish of the day,” said Eli, folding the menu neatly and handing it to him.
“Very good sir, and for you?”
“Um, the same.”
The waiter disappeared.
“Josiah, are you alright?”
“Yeah. More or less. You?”
“I’m fine.” Eli looked at him with concern.
“Have you been drinking?”
He was about to deny it but who was he fooling?
“Yeah. It was stupid, I’m sorry.”
“Is that why you called the paper?”
“Eli, I was angry, confused, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I hope this hasn’t affected your business too badly.”
“No, no. We’re doing fine. We’ll come through this. But there’s just one thing I don’t understand.”
“Yes?”
“This problem with the shields, I don’t understand why you’re making such a fuss about it - I mean, the whole system was your idea in the first place.”
He was sure his heart just skipped a beat. Had he misheard?
“What did you just say?”
“Surely you remember…”
Josiah’s face was totally blank.
“The shields - the whole shielding system - it was your idea, you designed it.”
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