The Book of Josiah - Chapter 23b

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.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 20

    And there it was: a mountain in the heart of London, a snow-capped needle of glass and steel piercing the night sky. The Cathedral of the Steel God watched the world the way an earthly lord might survey his domain. Soaring amongst the clouds, it claimed a place in heaven. The icons of the Steel God were crusted in ice and snow, white on grey metal. The everlasting torch flicked from the top of the glass pyramid, a beacon for the lost.
    But the sight brought no cheer to Josiah as he trudged along the twenty-eighth skyway. He did not feel that stirring of heart that true believers felt on approaching the cathedral, nor did he feel the thrill he had once felt on nearing his place of work, looking forward to seeing Elijah. It was bitterly cold up here. He could have taken a lower skyway but this was the most direct route - Josiah begrudged any waste of time.
    Visions of Amber filled his mind. Tortured, caged, beaten. What were they doing to her? Anxiety gnawed at his gut and ate away at his stomach. If only the skycars had been running. This damn snow. The skyways were covered in a layer of black ice, slippery and treacherous. If he had had a car, Josiah might have taken the risk, but like everything else in his life, the Circle had taken it from him. He had known nothing else, and they had thrown him to the dogs. And now they had Amber. What more did they want from him? The machine - his last act of heresy, the last corner of himself. All he had left was his life, and what was that worth?
    When he had last rode the skyways he had been with Amber, driving till dawn. Now it was 3am Central Europe Time, and dawn was out of reach. Shivering violently, Josiah gritted his teeth, pulled his cloak around him, and marched on. Not far to go now, it was almost over.
    Josiah had not thought he would look upon this place again - he had thought that he had escaped the past but he was finding that he could not. He had spent fifteen years of his life in this place, his first memories were of steel fists and full moons. The Circle had been his family, Elijah his father and teacher.
    The Cathedral loomed ever larger as he approached, filling his vision, making him feel small and insignificant - as it was intended. For the last five years he had made this journey every day, and it seemed that each day his excitement had dwindled. Now there was simply a hole inside him.
    What would he find? And more importantly, who? If he got his hands on Lovecraft... She would be alright, they would both be alright.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 16

 

Chapter 16 of the Book of Josiah is probably the one that has caused me the most difficulties over the years, and this week is no exception. This version has been censored to make it more suitable for all audiences - the original is rather more explicit and I decided not to post it on my blog. If you want to see it, to get the full story of the Book of Josiah, contact me privately. I may also put it up in a final ebook.

    “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
    “I’m sorry? I thought I was saving your life!”
    “What the hell were you doing?”
    “I saved your life - what are you talking about?”
    Amber shook her head in frustration, which just left Josiah even more confused and angry. He had risked his own life to help her reach safety and he had expected relief and maybe even some gratitude. She had just been shot in the leg - Josiah winced - but what was she so angry about?
    But what about Duke? He had been acting strangely as well - giving him the cold shoulder, if such a thing should be said of a man that had just taken a bullet in the shoulder. The pun amused him and his anger cooled. If only Amber would be more reasonable.
    “You really don’t know, do you?” Amber said, fiddling with her hands, then pushing back her hair; if she could have paced up and down the room she would have.
    Josiah kept his tone level and measured, determined to bring the conversation to a reasonable debate. “No, I don’t know. Could you tell me?”
    “Fine. Let me remind you, even if it was only a couple of hours ago,” she muttered something under her breath about short memories but Josiah decided to let the remark slide.
    “We were in the station,” she continued, speaking slowly, as one would when telling off an infant, too young to realise that what they have done is wrong, “they had shot at us, we had shot at them, and we were nearly in the clear. I was in trouble, you helped me get out. Don’t think I’m not grateful. The way out was ahead of us. There was no one in the way. Our path was clear. With me so far?”
    Josiah nodded, still no less confused - he knew what had happened next, that was when he had finally found the Plasma Inducer. He glanced down to the floor to check it was still there.
    “That’s when you decided, in your infinite wisdom, to go back into the middle of the shooting and pick up some dumb piece of metal! Duke was shot through the shoulder because of your stupidity. He could have died! Didn’t you think about what you were doing? Do you still not understand? I almost lost you.”

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 14a

    The searing heat from the explosion still tore at his face and hands, a hundred scorpions striking one after the other. Josiah could see only the afterglow, nothing else was real. But even before he fully realised what was happening, Josiah had drawn his gun and was diving for cover. A soft-drinks dispenser now served as a barricade. Someone was shouting orders but Josiah couldn’t tell who it was. As his eyes began to clear, colour returned in stark contrasts. Stuttering flashes drove spears of light across the hall. What the hell was going on?
    Somehow, Lovecraft materialised beside him, hands nervously twitching as they held a sleek pistol. He popped his head around the machine, fired twice and darted back.
    “Where’s Amber? Where’re the others?” Josiah asked, fighting to concentrate.
    “I do not know,” Lovecraft replied jerkily, “I lost them.”
    Flashes of light burst across his eyes. Josiah felt the machine behind him shudder with sudden impacts. His hands were shaking and he looked at them curiously. He was holding a gun. What should he be doing? He had to do something. The noise was too loud. Bursting volcanoes of sound. Bones quaked, teeth shook. What should he do? What could he do? More flashes of light, gut-tearing eruptions. He had to get out of here.  Where was the exit? There had to be a door, a window, a way out. He shouldn’t be here. He had to get out!
    “Breathe slower,” Lovecraft said evenly, not looking at him. “We can get out of here if you concentrate. Pick up your gun, then wait for a lull. Shoot the people shooting us.”
    For a moment Josiah did not comprehend the words. It was all noise on top of noise. His pulse beat strong and fast in his ears, throbbing. Breaths were short and shallow. But when he became aware of this Josiah could fight for control. Lovecraft was right. He tried to slow his breath and waited for a pause. Without letting himself think, he was shooting across the platform. One shot, two shots. He hardly registered the recoil before ducking back into cover. Two more. Back into cover. They came more easily now. A fifth.
    Then he caught sight of Amber, crouching behind a stack of metal barrels in the ditch that had once held the railway lines. A weight lifted from his chest - at least she was okay. And beside her was Theano, pale but seemingly uninjured.
    Josiah slipped back into cover a moment before the return fire slammed into the wall behind him - for a moment the air was full of dust and shards of concrete. When it cleared, he peeked out from behind the drinks machine, searching for a target.
    The smoke from the explosion obscured everything, all the overhead lights had gone out as well, Only the flickering glow of flames and the flashes of gunfire lit the room. The sound of shots filled Josiah’s head from ear to ear until it became nothing but background noise. Between the staccato sounds he heard someone barking orders.
    “MOVE WIDE!” someone shouted but Josiah could not tell who it was.
    There! He could see one of the Nightmares behind a metal crate. Carefully, Josiah took aim.
    Cold metal pressed against his neck.
    “Drop your gun,” the voice hissed, “your friend as well.”

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 11 - JOSIAH

    The sounds, smells, the vibrant colours, all of it was totally bewildering - like waves of nausea they assaulted his mind, far worse than usual. The crowds poured past him on all sides, threatening to drag him below the swelling tide of flesh. The whirling masses crushed against him, until he felt like a tall tree in a storm, struggling to keep upright. Even the roof seemed close and suffocating. And above it all was the stench of sweat, stale alcohol and putrid tobacco. He fought back the urge to throw up.
    Above him, from every side, strange creatures loomed menacingly, breaking out of the very walls of the buildings. A rhino was frozen, mid-charge, his horn lowered to do battle, semi-absorbed by the stone. Opposite was a white unicorn, horn of polished pearl, white wings spread to embrace the darkness. She seemed about to spring into the air and ride the thermals up to heaven. But this was the Deep, and heaven was a thick layer of cement.
    Clouds of incense wafted above the crowd, forming a thick layer of smog that blocked the fluorescent lights but did nothing to disguise the all-pervading stench. It billowed out from market stalls and the open doors of shops, curling and twisting, a madman’s dance; it caressed those who walked the streets and gently played across their clothes - the incense cloud welcomed him with open arms.
    Above the shops, and through the haze of smoke, were delicate arches, formed of finest marble, Greek style, that seemed to support the roof of the tunnel. But the paint was peeling, and revealed the pillars as a mere façade. The real roof supports were hard and straight, of red iron and blackened steel, criss-crossing at random junctures. The smoke embraced everything, sharp lines were swallowed in a vague fog.
    All around him half-seen faces lurched out of the mist, laughing madly or making obscene remarks, never quite looking in his direction. A man with a stud through his eyebrow and several across his head staggered along the road, barely keeping his feet - a low weeping sound trickling from his open mouth. A woman in black leather smoked a rolled cigarette slowly, staring into the trail of smoke as if divining the future in its strange formations.
    And above it all was a low murmur, a hum of conversation drifting through the incense cloud like wine through water, broken by hoarse shouts or stuttering laughter. And somewhere there was a shop playing music, just below the level of conscious hearing.
    Josiah swam through the crowd with Amber close behind. Camden always made him uneasy, and it was worse today than usual. With the temperature below freezing, it seemed that all the Deep had gathered to keep warm. He dodged a few drunkards and neatly side-stepped someone on a skateboard. He hoped that they would soon find their informer.
    They reached a clearing, a large cavern lit by burning braziers. A crowd had gathered and were toasting bread over the ethereal flames.
    “The end!” a voice shouted, loud and clear, breaking over the hum of conversation and silencing it in an instant.
    “The end is coming! It is already here!”

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 9 - JOSIAH

    The chaos was unbelievable.
    Three times Josiah looked around the room, never quite seeing its full extent. It was as if his eyes refused to take in the information, or that his brain rejected the images as obviously false. Such things did not happen to real people. This simply could not have happened.
    Josiah closed his eyes, half-expecting that everything would return to normality when he reopened them but nothing changed. It was the stuff of fiction but somehow it had invaded his world. His room had been ransacked, his papers and possessions lay strewn everywhere. Why would anyone steal from him? He had nothing. It was incomprehensible.
    It took Josiah a few moments to remember that Amber was beside him, and had an arm around his shoulders. Somehow, he was on the floor amongst the mess, though he had no memory of getting there.
    “I just can’t believe this. I don’t have anything worth taking!”
    “Calm down,” soothed Amber, “it can’t be that bad.”
    Amber was right, of course. It was only stuff, only material things, nothing of any lasting value. His most precious possession he carried with him, anyway. Josiah took a deep breath and fought to still his whirling mind. This was his room, it had been invaded, and he was going to get some answers.
    Amber waded into the mess, found an unbroken glass and filled it with water.
    “Fancy a drink?” she asked with a smile, as she offered the cup to Josiah.
    “Shouldn’t I be offering you?” he retorted, “but thanks, I could do with some water. Then I’d better start tidying up - I always think better when I’m busy.” He smiled devilishly, burying his worry as he downed the water.
    “Can I help?” asked Amber.
    “Sure, I’ll start with the papers.”
    “Then I’ll start with the clothes. Where do the trousers go?”
    “Top drawer,” Josiah answered, picking up the black chest and fitting the shelves back in their proper places. “I appreciate the help.”
    “Don’t mention it, my pleasure.”
    Josiah began to gather the scattered pieces of paper that were lying all over the room. Most of them were filled with strange-looking equations and complicated diagrams of his time machine. The rest were shopping lists, to-do lists, old diaries, odd doodles, vague sketches of designs that had never come to fruition, snatches of sermons and theology, snippets of the Great Machine code and other mundane items. Josiah didn’t like to throw away anything he wrote. Every scrap of paper was saved for possible use in the future. Whoever had taken the room apart seemed to have taken special interest in the papers. Paper clips and staples had been ripped out, as if they had made sure to read every page. Carefully, Josiah piled the papers back inside the wall-safe. One of these days he really ought to sort them out more thoroughly, he thought.
    “What do I do with the shirts?” Amber asked, folding the clothes more neatly than Josiah ever had.
    “Bottom drawer,” replied Josiah distractedly, watching Amber move as she bent down to pick up clothes from the floor.
    Amber suddenly looked up, saw him watching her, and smiled. Embarrassed, Josiah turned away and made a show of gathering up the mattress and sorting out the bedclothes. As he did so, a logic broke into his mind - it was really quite simple.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 7 - JOSIAH

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.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 5 - JOSIAH

Not sure what this is about? Here's my introduction.

Chapter 5 is the continuation of the story of Josiah begun in chapters 1 and 2. But you might meet some characters you recognise from Jos' storyline...

What is the Square?
    A geometrical object. Neat and precise, two-dimensional and utterly regular. Existing nowhere, if not in the mind.
    Josiah had come to realise that it was also a place, a group of people, an ideal. And more than that - for many souls who had lost their faith it was home.
    For Josiah however, it was an opportunity, a door opening before him. He could almost taste the success of his time machine, as he sipped on a black coffee and relaxed in a chair of real brown leather. The smell of cured animal skins was a real pleasure, as was the feeling of the chair beneath his fingers. Without a doubt, this was the most comfortable chair in the room - and there had been no shortage of choice.
    Josiah had to admit that the Square was both exactly what he had hoped for and more, but also very, very different. The lounge of the Elegant Head summed it up completely.
    The first thing you noticed upon entering the Elegant Head, as Josiah had noticed not a week earlier, was the sheer number of chairs - chairs of all varieties. There were sofas and armchairs, rocking-chairs and stools, fold-out chairs and inflatable chairs. Chairs made of wood and iron, of green plastic and animal fur, a chair made entirely out of human bones. The only thing there wasn’t, was a chair made of steel.
    And that was the second thing that Josiah had noticed. He had been so accustomed to seeing them, he felt their absence as something palpable - there were no fists of steel on the wall, no boxes for Church offerings. Even the Provider was free from iconography - the sheer blasphemy still thrilled him as he drank his unblessed coffee.
    After that, the details of the room came thick and fast, broke across his mind like waves across a boat, too much for your mind to quite take everything in.
    The sheer vastness of the chamber, open to the sky above, with the bright light of the sun shining down upon you like summer. But between the Square and the sky were many metres of concrete. This was a false sky, reading off the ambient emotion of the room and setting itself accordingly.
    Set into the regular walls, at irregular intervals, were small shaded alcoves, capable of being curtained and soundproofed off for private conferences and meetings. And other forms of experimentation. Sound could not escape but odours lingered in the red, velvet curtains.
    The cooling remnants of coffee, cups of tea and smashed liquor glasses dwelt on some of the tables scattered about the room, alongside well-worn books on higher mathematics, spectral physics and biochemistry. There were books everywhere. They seemed to grow organically from the walls and were spreading towards the rather plain Provider in a menacing fashion.
    And no matter the time of day or night, you would find the scientists. Some sat silently, reading huge volumes, sipping from whiskey glasses. Others smoked long brown sticks and paraded on the chairs, weeping softly. Josiah had even seen a grown woman dance into the room naked, screaming ‘Eureka’. No one batted an eyelid, and Josiah was trying to learn not to respond to anything he saw.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 2 - JOSIAH

 One moment he was scurrying along the city bottom, the next he was lying face down on the concrete. A taste of copper told him that his lip had been cut in the fall. A sharp kick in his left side knocked the rest of the air out of him.
    Dazed, Josiah found himself being lifted off the ground. A huge, leathery hand held him firmly  by the scruff of his neck. He wasn’t going anywhere.
    “Give us your money, and we might not have to hurt you,” growled the man who held him. He was very tall -  well over two metres - with mismatched eyes, a chin covered in bristles and a stud through his lower lip. His nose was reddened by too much drink, his teeth burnt from too much smoke.
    “I don’t have any money,” Josiah protested, struggling vainly.
    “We think you is a liar but it’s more fun this way. We think we start with an ear or two. You ain’t using them, right?”
    He chuckled to himself - empty and cold - and leered at Josiah, revealing blackened gums. A knife flashed in his hand.
    And then he crumpled to the floor, part of his torso obliterated. Blood spray hit the walls - a sombre red against the psychedelic spray paint.
    Josiah put his gun away and hurried off down the tunnel.  He glanced from side to side. There was no one else around. That made his life a lot easier. He wanted to get off these streets as fast as possible and into the Lock. He quickened his step; kept his eyes fixed on the ground.
    Then it hit him hard, like a blow to the chest. He had killed a man. Shot him with the gun he held in his hands. He had never used it before today. There had been no time to think, no choice. Him or me. Josiah’s guts twisted themselves into painful knots, the smell of blood still clung to his nostrils like a stain, the dying man’s eyes, suddenly and paradoxically alive with shock, filled his mind. I had no choice, he thought furiously, fighting down the urge to panic. I have to focus on my objectives. Where am I going?