The Book of Josiah - Chapter 23c

Part a is here.
Part b is here.

“The shields - the whole shielding system - it was your idea, you designed it.”

    “You designed it, is it going to work?”
    “What do you want me to tell you?”
    “I want you to tell me that we’ll do it, that we’ll save Luna-city, and ourselves. Ammi will have our child and we will all live happily ever after.”
    Jonah looked down sadly.
    “I wish I could tell you that, but deep down in my heart I know that is not how this story ends.”
    “Yeah, I know. The whole ‘IN THREE HOURS’ business. What was that about?”
    “It’s called prophecy, Josiah.”
    “You’ll excuse me if I don’t immediately accept that as an answer.”
    “I will,” said Jonah, smiling devilishly, “but for the purpose of this conversation let’s just take it as read.”
    “Okay, fine. So how do you get into this whole prophecy gig?”
    “You are chosen, and believe me, it is as much a curse as a blessing. I have been walking the earth for many lifetimes now, but soon it will be time to rest.”
    “If you can’t be more cheerful I might become more sceptical.”
    Jonah laughed again. Somehow, despite the growing patch of red and orange, that signalled the approach of Security, despite the growing image of Luna-city projected at the front of the bridge, somehow they had found calmness. But Josiah knew it was just the eye of the storm.
    “I shall endeavour to be optimistic, at least in conversation.”
    “That’s all I ask.”
    “So Josiah, what do you dream about?”
    “Haven’t we had this discussion before? I have the strangest feeling of déjà vu.”
    “Yes we have but times change and so do dreams.”
    “And is there nothing else to talk about?”
    “Nothing else worth saying - the world is run by dreams, the world is changed by dreamers. One should never cheapen the power of dreams.”
    The power of dreams. Yes, the phrase itself struck a chord within his soul but he could not say why. Power…
    He flicked the third switch. It was a delicate balance - too much plasma all at once and the whole engine could blow, ruining any chance they had of saving the city. Too little and they would not change course in time.
    The first rumblings pulsed through the ship as the starboard thrusters filled with plasma. Everything shook, first gently and then with increasing ferocity until Josiah had to cling to his chair, and was half afraid his teeth would fall out.
    Then the shaking subsided.
    “Well that was exciting,” Jonah said, sitting up and brushing dust from his clothes.
    “Yes but it wasn’t enough, we’ll need more to push us off course.”
    He looked up at the display - Luna-city seemed so close now, he could make out all the different buildings, the roofs, the domes, the towers. Was that Ammi’s hospital? It was hard to say. But this was what he was fighting for, and he would not let it go.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 19

 

The end is nearly upon us - just five more chapters until the end of the Book of Josiah! Enjoy.

    “I thought they would have found us by now,” Jos said as he and Jonah hurried down the twisting passageways, “it’s not exactly like we’re hiding from them.”
    “I told you,” replied Jonah, smiling enigmatically, “they won’t find us until the time is right.”
    “Jonah, I’m not sure about this, I’m frightened.”
    “I know. Look at it this way. The ship is going to crash into the city unless something happens. Even if I am completely insane and having paranoid delusions about some conspiracy, nothing we can possibly do now could make the situation any worse.”
    Jos had to admit that Jonah had a point. He felt a new resolve fill him. Despite the impossible odds, he and Jonah would manage to save the city. Together, there was nothing they could not do. They would get to the bridge and somehow they would turn the ship around. There wasn’t long to go now.
    But Jonah suddenly toppled over like a tree blown down in a hurricane. It was all Jos could do to avoid being knocked to the floor.
    Violent tremors began to course through Jonah’s body - he began to shake uncontrollably. Jos started to panic - was he having a fit? what should he do? Jonah’s arms and legs jerked spasmodically but without force, like a mad puppet. He had to do something!

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!”

Tales of the Dreamscape - The Dinner Party - Part 2

The Dreamscape - a shared dream, a world of escape from the brutalities of the London of the future. Part 1 is here.
 

   Edward was expounding scripture to the Lady Lucy-Emma, whose sarcastic comments went completely over his head. Lord Charles and Clarice were engaged in a fierce debate over politics and the latest batch of election results. Joseph saw his chance and turned to his right to speak to Anne-Mary, who was moving food around her plate with a fork.
    “My dear, you haven’t spoken to me at all since that night.”
    Anne pretended not to hear him.
    “You were a real asset to the team, Anne - we need people like you.”
    “Mr Worthy,” replied Anne-Mary, still focussed on her near-empty plate, “this is not a subject I choose to discuss.”
    “We struck a decisive blow for animal rights, Anne, a blow they will not soon recover from. You and I made a difference.”
    “I regret few choices I have made in my life, but that night is one of them.” She looked up and faced Joseph. “Mr. Worthy, please do not press the matter further.”
    “But don’t you see? We need you! You and others like you. These bastards need to be stopped, we need to send them a message. There’s another lab. They cut up monkey brains while they’re still alive! Anne, come on another job, I promise it will be different.”
    He reached out and grasped her hand. Firmly, she removed it.
    “Joseph, for two weeks I have seen his face every time I close my eyes. The bulging eyes, the sweat on his brow, the blood erupting from his broken lungs. I see everything, all the time. What he was doing to those creatures was wrong, I know that but... I can’t do it. Now, please drop it.”
    She turned away once more.
    “It all comes down to those dirty under-dwellers,” said Clarice, becoming the centre of attention instantly. “They are a scourge, a blight on our fair city.”
    “There at least, we can both agree,” said Lord Wytherington. “They have no place in London. Quite frankly, the culls are the best thing for them.”
    “I’m so glad to hear you say that, my Lord. I have volunteered to join a cull Sunday next, after tea,” said Joseph. “Would you care to join me?”
    “Perhaps,” answered Charles, “I may be busy”.
    “Are the culls really necessary?” said Lucy-Emma. “They seem a bit, um, harsh.”
    “Reverend, what have you to say on the subject?” asked Charles.
    “Well,” Edward coughed, “scripture is somewhat vague on the subject. There are many interpretations but there are those who say we must purge the unclean from our midst.”
    “Well, that certainly settles it then,” said Lady Wytherington.
    “They are sub-human,” declared Clarice. “All they do is take their drugs and sleep in filth. Without them, London could soar like an eagle.”
    “I couldn’t agree more, my dear,” said Joseph. “And I think there may be at least one other who shares your passion. Lord Wytherington, do you know much about your under butler?”
    “He seems to be adequate at his job.”
    “I saw him at a cull a month ago,” continued Joseph, “he seemed - keen. Anyway, I’m all in favour of it. The only good rat is a dead rat.”
    Emily shuffled out of the dining room to refill the wine. She did not look at anyone.
    “Please excuse me,” said Lord Wytherington, “but nature calls.”