500 Words a Day - Launching

This one went a little dark, I'm afraid, but I guess that's where we are right now. Stay safe!

I wake up at 06:00 like I do every day, even without any sunlight. The stars beyond the porthole look just the same, always the same. Just the cycle of the light-strips in the ceiling tell me that ‘dawn’ is on its way. Still, I can’t complain. Life on the ship is alright, you know?

I wake up the same, stretch the same and get out of bed. I put on my slippers, my bath-robe, and switch on the coffee machine. While the machine begins its morning hum, I turn on my tablet and scan through my messages. Six notifications, but most of them are from the rest of the crew. One catches my eye - it’s a video message from back home.
This one should be savoured.
I wait for the coffee to brew, add the creamer, and take a seat on my sofa. I start feeling a buzz of excitement - videos from back home were a rare treat, as normally we couldn’t spare the bandwidth. There was a strict rationing of one message a week, and only a few GB at a time. We’d been out of port for six months and I was beginning to feel it - a kind of weight pulling down at me, a black hole beginning to grow.
I took a sip, and pressed play.

The Book of Josiah - Behind the Scenes 2

The complete links for the Book of Josiah are here, organised both in the order as released and by timeline (in case you want to read them that way, no idea if that makes any sense).

2 CHRONICLES
I wrote last time about the genesis of the Book of Josiah, what the original conception of the book was, and then how I tried writing it as coordinator of a group project, which ultimately didn't work.

After I realised that this had to be my own work, I got back to writing it but the process was very slow - while my overall structure was extremely clear, the details of the plot were still vague. The next major step in my writing process was sketching out the entire novel chapter by chapter, filling in the major details of plot for each section, making sure that I coordinated all the important moments of synchronicity between the timelines.

But it wasn't until I got to university that I pushed myself to finally finish writing the novel - what was my secret? I allocated myself an hour of writing time every week day, and mostly stuck to it.

By the way, these remain my two best tips for how to get your book idea on to the page - develop a plan, and schedule your writing time.

More after the jump...

The Book of Josiah - Complete Links

Here you will find all the links to the entire Book of Josiah, as it currently stands, grouped both in chapter order and by timeline.

FULL EBOOK - Coming Soon!

Introduction

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14a
Chapter 14b
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23a
Chapter 23b
Chapter 23c
Epilogues

More links after the jump

The Book of Josiah - Epilogues

   Josiah Smith woke with a start, and looked about him in panic. Where was he? Then he saw the signs, and realised they were pulling into King’s Cross.
    Hurriedly, he gathered his belongings and moved to get off the train.
    He hated sleeping on trains - he always had such peculiar dreams, and what if he missed his stop? It was 7:35, so the train was running five minutes late. Again. It never ran on time.
    Just as he was stepping onto the platform, he realised he had left his book behind. It was too late. ‘The Time Machine’ it was. Never mind - he hadn’t been enjoying it much anyway. Altogether too fantastical.



    Josiah Smith opened his eyes and rose from his knees. Never before had the visions been as sharp as now. The chapel had grown cold and dark. All the candles had sputtered and burnt out since vespers. The night time vigil was his alone.
    The prayer had been from the heart, the true word of his soul. God had sent him this vision in answer but what did it mean? What were these sights of steel and blood, moon and darkness? It did not make sense, at least not yet. But there would be much time to consider the revelation, weigh it for meaning and truth, before he need reveal it to the Abbot.
    What did it all mean?



    He opens his eyes and is alone in the room. What is he wearing? Why can he not move his arms?
    Above his head is a single bulb, swinging to and fro, creaking like a demon.
    How long has he been here? He cannot remember.
    But he remembers the window, the faces, the men and women in their white coats, looking at him like he was crazy.
    There they are again, still noting things down on their stupid little note pads.
    One huge man with a flat round face and small dark eyes. A woman with unkempt blonde hair and a long white glove. A thin man with eyes too large for his face. And their leader is talking to them, a small middle-aged man, balding with small dark eyes and small round spectacles. What is he saying?
    He tries to read his lips, and only catches one phrase over and over again.
    ‘Patient Fifty Six’.
    He does not call for help. They will not listen.
    The voice drones on in the background.
    He barely notices it at all now.
    “And she conceived again, and bare a daughter. And God said unto Josiah, call her name Lo-Ruhamah, you are not forgiven: for I will no more have mercy upon the house of Israel; but I will utterly take them away.”
    No, he does not cry for mercy.
    Instead he closes his eyes once more and returns to the waiting arms of sleep.
    I hope I have a good dream.

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 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 23a

The Five of Cups reversed, gold on black.
    He is in a car with her, and they are driving down the road. The top is down, the wind is in her hair - God, she looks beautiful today, eyes like black on gold. And they are laughing so hard, though he can’t say why. They laugh and laugh, as though this could never end. And then he looks at his hand, and sees a trickle of blood - why does it not hurt? He stops laughing, and so does she. They stare at the trickle of blood, confused, as it traces a red path down his arm. And then the car is out of control, and they go off the bridge. For a moment they are suspended in empty space but then they fall. And somewhere distant, a girl is crying.
    The Six of Wands reversed, silver on black.
    On an ocean, rocking back and forth with the gentle waves. It is night, and the moon is full, silver on black. It is so peaceful here, with the gentle rocking of the sea. But the sky grows darker, and one of the crew is not who he seems, he is an outsider, a traitor, but which one? Perhaps they should draw lots. But the lots are not fair and he draws the short straw - no! I am not the traitor! - but no one will listen to his cries, and they prepare to throw him from the boat before all is lost. “Pray to your God,” they say, “perhaps he will hear and save your life”. But he does not believe in God and so all hope is lost. For a moment he is suspended in empty space but then he falls forever.
    The Fool.
    How should this dream go? I shall toss a coin to decide, I cannot control a dream. Heads, we shall all go home and live beautiful lives, and the dream shall end happily ever after. Tails, we shall never go home, and the dream shall end in fear and pain. He tosses the coin, watches it spin, round and round. For a moment, it hangs there, forever revolving, but then it falls. He reaches out a bloodstained hand and catches it. Tails. Best of three, he thinks, and tosses the coin again and again - and every time it comes up tails.

    The World reversed. Failure.

The Book of Josiah - Final Chapter Week

The moment has finally arrived. All this week I will be running the final chapter of the Book of Josiah, followed by its epilogues.

As this is a mammoth chapter (7000 words), I've split it into 3 sections, to be posted one per night, followed by the epilogues on Thursday.

If you've been following along, thanks for joining the ride. Please let me know what you think! I would really appreciate any and all feedback.

Next week, time permitting, I hope to have some more Behind the Scenes material, as well as a post with the complete links, and, perhaps, a version for e-readers.

Hope you enjoy the conclusion of the Book of Josiah.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 21

    At the next meeting, Josiah could barely keep still. At last he would be able to make a contribution to the project. The safety of thousands, maybe even millions, of people who would come to live on the moon would be thanks to his insight. And to find the problem in the design process before construction had even begun, would save thousands of dollars as well. The youngsters would know that he still had some life in him, that he could still hack it in the fast-paced world of technology. Yes, he would show them all.
    He longed just to get up and say everything - to prove his genius then and there. His legs kept almost standing, beyond his control. But he had too much respect for Eliphaz to show him up in front of his colleagues. He had to wait until the end of the meeting, then he could have a word with him in private. It would help Eli save face when he realised his mistake.
    But the agony of waiting, the words burning a hole inside his head. ‘I was going through the notes,’ he would say, calmly and measuredly, ‘when I came across some anomalies. I was wondering if you could explain them to me.’ But there was no explanation that could be given. The entire structure of the protective shield was dangerously unstable. There might be no problems for years - it was possible that the shield could last for decades without having any problems at all - but then again, under the wrong circumstances, the shield would suffer a catastrophic failure, followed by the collapse of all backup systems. The result would be the annihilation of Luna-city. But he had seen the flaw, it would be put right, and it would all be thanks to him.
    With these thoughts running through his mind again and again, Josiah found it nigh on impossible to listen to the meeting. Something about gardening. His fingers twitched, his legs jerked up and down, a nervous tension grew in his stomach.
    “Josiah,” said Eli, breaking off whatever conversation they had been having, “you look agitated. Do you have something to add?”
    All eyes turned his way, youthful and mocking.
    “Uh, maybe I could have a word with you after the meeting,” Josiah stuttered, totally thrown by this sudden turn of events.
    “Sure, if you want,” said Eli in his calm way. “Is it about the project?”
    “Uh, yeah, it’s about the project.”
    “Well why don’t you just tell us all now, while we’re all here.”
    “No, I’d really rather just speak to you later.”
    “We have no secrets here, what’s on your mind?”
    This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The eyes were filled with disinterest and derision. What had he planned to say?
    “There’s a flaw in the shield system,” he blurted out, “a really serious flaw, I mean, really deep-rooted, and if we don’t do something about it, we could have a really serious problem later on down the line, I mean, when we come to build it, because then we’ll have to replace all the inducers.”
    He thought he heard the Wicked Witch cackle quietly to herself. They won’t listen, he thought, and his heart plummeted. But Eli was listening and would hear what he was trying to say.
    “Why don’t you just pause a second and then start from the beginning,” Eli said sympathetically.
    Josiah took a deep breath, tried to gather his thoughts, and began at the beginning. He pulled out the now ragged bits of paper, criss-crossed in red scribbles and black arrows, referencing first one part and then another of the design specifications, gathering momentum all the time. Why was he nervous? After all, he knew he was right, and Eli would listen, even if the others were too blinded by prejudice to see the truth. He didn’t care what they thought, only Eli mattered. His mind grew wings and soared, each sentence he spoke was perfect, his argument faultless - they would all recognise the truth of what he said. This was the perfect flash of inspiration, everything came together and he understood it on a new level - this was the feeling he lived for, the sheer energy, the power of the mind.
    He was reaching his conclusion and knew it to be irresistible.
    “And so, in conclusion, you can see that the structure of the defensive shield has an inherent weakness. It can be struck by a meteor and not sustain a scratch, but if subjected to vibrations of a certain frequency, a frequency not uncommon, the plasma flow will be interrupted, causing a catastrophic failure of all systems, primary and secondary, resulting in depressurisation and total annihilation of the city.”
    There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch into an eternity. All eyes looked at him but he could not tell what they thought. He found, to his great surprise, that he was standing up, and perhaps had been for some time. They stared at him forever, pens held limply in their hands. In this moment of silence, Josiah felt Ammi’s loss more profoundly than he had for years, though he could not explain why. And then the silence ended.

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 18

    It wasn’t his fault. Not really. He was afraid of his dreams and so he fought the darkness. What had happened to his beautiful dreams? Once he had dreamt of other worlds and other times, when a man could be a hero, where he was free to live out his fantasies. But he had squandered his infinite dreams and now was left with only two.
    In one, he watched a cup of tea fall to the floor, so elegant, so graceful, and shatter into a thousand pieces like a drop of rain as it hits the ground; and an inhuman screech filled his ears as brakes burned, tires slid and a car, all too close, collided with a brick wall. It was inevitable and he was bound to watch, over and over again.
    But relatively speaking that was the good dream. In the other, he woke up in his bed to find Ammi lying beside him, worn by the passing of years but as beautiful as ever. And he would wake her up and tell her about the strange dream he had had, and how he had imagined the crash, and her funeral, and his sorrow, and she laughed and said “what a funny dream” and they both laughed together until Dinah came to find out what was going on; and she was so beautiful it ached his heart, and he told her about his strange dream, and how she had died and he had gone to her funeral and been unable to say a word, and he laughed because she was so full of life - they all laughed.
    Joe felt himself falling asleep again and drove his nails harder into his leg - he had to stay awake. it wasn’t his fault that he kept falling asleep in this meeting. How could he go to sleep at night knowing what waited for him in the shadows?
    His head jerked backwards and he knew that he couldn’t help himself. In a few minutes he would be asleep, and there was nothing he could do about it. No, he wouldn’t accept that.
    Eli was still talking but it was just a senseless drone, like an itch at the base of Joe’s mind. He did not understand a word that was being said but couldn’t ignore it. He had to seem interested but to do that he had to stay awake. Rising from his seat in what he hoped was a surreptitious manner, Joe went over to the water machine and poured himself a large cup of water.
    ‘I need something stronger than water,’ Joe thought but then was immediately angry at himself for thinking it. He did not drink any more.

The Book of Josiah - Chapter 17

    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.”

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 15

    “Are you afraid?”
    “Yes, a little. Why do you ask?”
    “You’re shivering.”
    Pausing for a moment to consider this, Jos found it was true and wondered why - this place was probably the warmest on the ship. Still, he pulled his cloak tighter and gritted his teeth.
    They walked on long-bladed grass that crunched delightfully at every step. Jos could barely remember the last time he had walked on grass - the smell was magical.
    A sudden stampede of memory threatened to overwhelm him - everything came back so clearly. He could see the swings he had played on as a child - they were red, with black seats, high enough off the ground that he had felt really grown-up to sit on them and swing into the air. He had swung and dreamt of flying, of reaching to the heavens, of becoming a pilot of a ship to the stars. He played on the slide and the roundabout, on the see-saw and the climbing frame that was shaped like an elephant’s head. He played and he smelled the grass beneath his feet, fresh with frost or dew. Ghosts of children played across his eyes, walking the paths beside him, laughing and shrieking with equal glee, climbing the tall oak trees to his left, the beech trees to the right, sitting beneath a gnarled, old willow. For a moment he could see everything. Then he was back.
    “It’s okay to be frightened,” Jonah said, in what Jos could only assume was supposed to be a comforting tone of voice - Jonah did not comfort well.
    “Thank you but I don’t really need your permission. Some deranged terrorists are trying to destroy the ship and I’m trying to stop them. Every security guard on the ship is looking for us - and will probably shoot us on sight given that their boss seems to be behind it all. And here we are, strolling through a park…”
    “An arboretum,” Jonah corrected him, almost sheepishly, “it’s an arboretum.”
    “… strolling through an arboretum as if it were a Sunday afternoon and we hadn’t a care in the world. I think I have earned the right to be a little scared.”

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 10 - JOS

    The ventilation shaft was dark and narrow, cold and dry. Crawling through the tunnels, Jos had a few bare centimetres on either side. His knuckles were raw, the muscles in his hand ached while his knees protested every movement. The ceiling was low and irregular - Jos kept banging his head. The air had a strange, metallic taste, and was far colder than Jos was used to. Back home he had never gone out much, there had been no need. He was glad to have his coat with him now, and tried to wrap it tighter around his body. The shaft was too narrow and he could not get it to work. Damn, he was too old to be crawling on his hands and knees.
    Ahead, barely visible in the darkness, was Jonah, who seemed to move through the shaft effortlessly, as if he had been born there. He made it look so easy. Had he the choice again, Jos would have chosen an alternative route. This might be safer and faster but if he hit his head one more time, he would scream some choice obscenities. There was only one thing that Jos knew for certain: these shafts had not been designed for crawling through.

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 8 - JOS

    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?

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.