by M. T Hill
Em stares at her husband. ‘What? How can you go there—’
‘I mean… he was always a bit off. Wasn’t he?’
Em shakes her head furiously, welling up. She looks over one shoulder. ‘Dragon? Dragon! Come on. We’re getting out of here.’ And the dog pelts into the room and puts his front paws on Em’s knees.
‘Don’t wake the girls yet,’ she hisses at Ted. ‘And wash your hands. It’s the card that stinks. It’s that fucking card.’
* * *
In the back garden, towards the hardy scrub of the beach, the shale and sand, the swell. None of the neighbours are up yet, though there’s an old tent and the smouldering remains of a fire some distance around the bay.
Dissatisfied, livid with the run of things, at Ted’s indifference, Em walks for a while along the beach fringe, holding Graham’s postcard by the corner so it flaps noisily in the wind. She remembers the nights she’d bunked down with Dolly, reassuring her that Marigold and the fairies weren’t coming back, that they weren’t watching the house from the woods. All those long, long hours staring at the plastic stars covering the ceiling in Dolly’s room.
Dragon gallops ahead, chicaning in and out of the foam. It’s about degrees of plausibility, Em supposes. The greenhouse, the girls’ obsessions. The visits from the ufologists. Those damn trespassers in the bunker. But the question lingers. If they weren’t fairies, then what had the girls seen that day? Or what, at least, was Graham’s postcard driving at?
You watch, it said.
Em squats in the sand, steadies herself with one hand. A pull in her gut, like an old pregnancy pain, and the faint sound of tinkling on the water. She looks out to sea, back to the house. Maybe some ghosts can travel with you.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Certain aspects of the Vaughan family’s space elevator plans were inspired by Sir Arthur C. Clarke’s 1979 novel The Fountains of Paradise. Some of Shep’s past urbex missions, as well as Stephen and Alba’s forum profiles, were inspired by posts on 28dayslater.co.uk.
This project owes almost everything to my brother Alex, whose steeplejacking stories and photos got me started (and whose technical advice I mostly ignored).
Endless thanks to those who read drafts and shoved me along: Anne, Chris, Ed, James, Jayne, Mark, Mike, Nina, Penny and Steph.
Huge thanks also to my agent Sam Copeland, editor Gary Budden and everyone at Titan Books, especially George Sandison, Tash Qureshi, Dan Coxon, Lydia Gittins and Polly Grice. Extra special thanks to Julia Lloyd for the beautiful cover art.
All my love to Suze, Albie and Felix.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M.T. Hill grew up in Tameside, Greater Manchester, and now lives on the edge of the Peak District with his wife and sons. He is the author of Zero Bomb, The Folded Man, and 2016 Philip K. Dick Award nominee Graft.
Find him on Twitter @matthewhill
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TITAN BOOKS
ZERO BOMB
BY M.T. HILL
The near future. Following the death of his daughter Martha, Remi flees the north of England for London. Here he tries to rebuild his life as a cycle courier, delivering subversive documents under the nose of an all-seeing state.
But when a driverless car attempts to run him over, Remi soon discovers that his old life will not let him move on so easily. Someone is leaving coded messages for Remi across the city, and they seem to suggest that Martha is not dead at all.
Unsure what to believe, and increasingly unable to trust his memory, Remi is slowly drawn into the web of a dangerous radical whose ‘70s sci-fi novel is now a manifesto for direct action against automation, technology, and England itself.
The deal? Remi can see Martha again – if he joins the cause.
“Fresh, insightful and powerful.” Locus
“Arguably the finest post-singularity escapade since Matthew de Abaitua’s sci-fi novel If Then.” The New Scientist
TITANBOOKS.COM
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TITAN BOOKS
THE SILVER WIND
BY NINA ALLAN
A powerful tale of time travel, time lost, time regained and time disrupted. In this remarkable narrative, watches and clocks become time machines, vehicles to explore alternate realities, the unreliability of memory and roads not taken.
Martin and Dora Newland – sometimes siblings, sometimes lovers and sometimes friends, both subject to the tricks and turns of time and fate. Owen Andrews – watchmaker, time traveller, government agent. Their stories interlock and interweave like the perfectly honed cogs of a watch mechanism to reveal an unsettling world of missed opportunities, broken connections and personal losses.
“Unique and fascinating” Jeff Vandermeer, author of the Annihilation trilogy
“Literate, intelligent, gorgeously human” Alastair Reynolds, author of Revelation Space
“Beautifully told, absorbing and eerie in the best way” Yoon Ha Lee, author of Ninefox Gambit
“Beautifully written and deeply strange” Sunday Times
“A lyrical, moving story” The Guardian
TITANBOOKS.COM
Table of Contents
Cover
Contents
Praise for Zero Bomb
By M.T. Hill and Available From Titan Books
Title Page
Review
Copyright
Dedication
A Fire in the North The Landowner
Part I: Look, Don’t Touch The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
Sunday Rites The Landowner
Part II: Vertex Island The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
The Steeplejack
The Journalist
Home by the Sea The Landowner
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also Available from Titan Books
Guide
Cover
Start of Content
Table of Contents
