The Prometheus Effect

by Jonathan Davison

  “Joshua, as I said to you yesterday, I don't have a lot of time, I know it's harsh on you to leave you so cold and I promise I will contact you again and explain everything, but firstly I have to find a secure method of communication and that's gonna be hard. Just one more thing. What's the name of the poetry book?”

  Joshua was intensely frustrated with the callers game. He could sense something was terribly wrong but he did believe the American when he said he would put him straight. Trust was something in short supply in the current climate.

  “OK. I accept that things are difficult for you. Let me help though, maybe there is something I can do from here, I have contacts.”

  “That's a kind offer and I'm going to take you up on that.”

  “Oh, by the way, this number is about to expire, you'll need to call me on a new one, my office number is best. 02083 569003.”

  “Thanks, I got that...zero, zero three. Joshua...”

  “Yeah?”

  “The name of the book?”

  “Oh yes, sorry. It's by Percy Shelley and it's called... Prometheus Unbound. Is that of any relevance?”

  The line went quiet for a few seconds before an erring caller mumbled a reply.

  “Yeah, err...it's relevant. I'll be in touch.”

  The American hung up and Joshua was probably none the wiser for his conversation. He laid back, his arms and legs sprawling over the barren tan carpet and looked up to the ceiling and the single bulb that swung without lampshade from the centre. If Paul Niemechek was trying to tell Joshua something, he had gone down a pretty convoluted road to do it. Choosing a text written in 1818 was a bizarre move. Joshua wondered why Paul had chosen that particular book. Perhaps there was something in the title itself which told a greater story? The more Joshua recapped the conversation, the more fearful he got for Paul and his sister Jill. If this was some kind of warning or cryptic 'last words', then why send it to such a loose relative, one that he barely knew? He could only conclude that it was his role in the media that warranted such an action. Paul was asking Joshua for something, something profound. If indeed he had planned on sending the book on or before the second of November, days before the 'red dawn' and the ensuing crisis, then it stood to reason that he had prior knowledge of the event (if that is what the book pertained to).

  Joshua stood up and brushed himself down. He had just been given a marvellous mystery to solve, one which tied in beautifully with his current objectives. By the time his mysterious American colleague contacted him next, he hoped to be much more clued up. Perhaps he could even find out who this caller was that was so evidently in mortal danger. Clutching the book tightly he went to the window and looked up to the skies. It was a bright day. Was it just Joshua or was the red hue fading?

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  December 21th 2020

  Fozzies Sandwich Stall, The Strand, London

  “Can I have a Tuna Sandwich on white and a latte please mate?”

  Joshua sat at the bar on a cold hard stool. The December winds lashed at his red raw ear lobes. His attaché case tucked underneath his arm, he looked every bit the part in his role, his long dark overcoat seemed to suit the journalist perfectly.

  “You lot back up and running soon or what?” The server asked as he pulled a tub of pre prepared tuna mayonnaise from the fridge.

  “After Christmas we think.” Joshua replied knowing full well the sandwich guy had probably asked the same question to every other hack in the street.

  “Bloody hell, we wanna know what’s goin' on!” The big fellow exclaimed in an East London twang.

  “I know, it's really very frustrating. There is good news though, we think the Internet will be back tomorrow and then we'll start to publish our online edition.

  “That's no fackin' good to me mate. I aven't got a computer. A paper in me 'and that’s what I want!”

  “Can't please them all.” Joshua muttered knowing his host well enough to have a little banter.

  “Anyway, what I eard' is the Internet's gonna be totally censored anyway. It was only ever good for a bit o' porn and I don't suppose we'll be even given that privilege. What are they afraid of, alien tits n' fanny?”

  Joshua laughed at the sandwich maker as he slopped a knife full of spread upon his bread.

  “Well, I don't know about how much it's going to be censored but I know that users will only be able to access it will some kind of device that integrates with your citizen-chip. I guess that way, they'll be able to keep tabs on us. Bang goes our right to privacy, it's a joke if you ask me. It's all wrong.”

  “Well like I said guv, I’ll just have to get me fanny elsewhere, and before you say it, I haven’t seen my wife’s in years so don’t go there. Full of fackin' cobwebs that is.”

  Joshua laughed as he was handed his lunch and then gulped as he realised that a simple sandwich cost nearly ten pounds.

  “I got no choice but to put up me prices, I can't even make that sandwich for less than six or seven pound.” The big balding cockney was apologetic and Joshua understood. Times were changing.

  Joshua took a seat at one of the round tables arrange closely around the wagon. Despite the chilly weather, it was good to escape the air conditioning for an hour and get some fresh London smog filled air instead. It was not long after he sat down when an interesting event took place. Something that had not happened in some time. A woman pulled up a nearby chair at his table and bid him a good afternoon.

  The woman was in her later thirties, mousey blonde hair, fairly attractive by any standard. She was immaculately dressed and carried an umbrella despite the lack of rain.

  “Hello. Do you mind if I join you?”

  Joshua had a large mouthful of sandwich and brushing his notes back into his case he cleared some space at his table.

  “No. No not at all.” He replied with some surprise.

  “So do you work around here?” She said starting the conversation with a question that seemed quite easy to answer.

  “Yup. Work on Fleet Street.”

  “I guess your all busy kicking your heels at the moment aren’t you?” Her tone was warm but curiously inquisitive.

  “Well, not really. It's difficult as you can imagine. You can't start poking around the best stories through fear of getting arrested. How about you? Are you press?” Joshua looked the woman up and down, she was slim and quite tall. Most certainly a catch in anyone's book.

  “No. I'm a civil servant.”

  Joshua nodded and then realised that the woman did not have any items from the stall. What did she want?

  “Can I buy you a coffee?” He asked politely although in hindsight it did sound a little forward.

  “No it's alright thank you. I'm giving it up. To be honest, and I’m a little embarrassed to say this, I was just passing by and I just...took a fancy to you.”

  Joshua was stunned into silence, a large bolus of sandwich lodged briefly in his gullet and an exaggerate swallow demonstrated his astonishment at the woman’s brazen approach.

  “Blimey...well that doesn’t happen every day. What's your name?”

  The woman laughed.

  “Rachel. What's yours?”

  “Joshua.”

  Rachel pulled her chair a little closer to Joshua's so close in fact that he could feel the heat of her body emanate across the ever decreasing gap.

  “I'd hate for you to think I was forward in any way. I don't usually proposition guys in the street. Maybe it's the whole red sky thing, sending me crazy.” Rachel laughed again as she flicked her hair. It was clear to Joshua that this lady meant business. Joshua was no stranger to women but it had been a while, he had been so busy with his work, he had little time for anything else.

  “Can I tell you something?” Rachel inquired tantalising Joshua's imagination.

  “I'd love you to take me somewhere right now, somewhere quiet. I don't care where.” Rachel looked straight into Joshua's eyes, his mouth was agape and his blood pressure increasing.


  “Bloody hell, you don't mess around do you?” He said nervously chuckling.

  “Life's way too short for hesitation.” Rachel turned towards Joshua, her short skirt riding up her thighs as she shuffled even closer.

  “There's got to be a catch here. Has someone put you up to this?” Joshua refused to believe that his powers of attraction were sufficient to invite this kind of response.

  “Do you know, you're very inquisitive. Do you always ask so many questions?” Rachel clutched Joshua's inside thigh and slowly pushed her hand closer to his crotch.

  “Well, that's my job, I'm a journalist, I get paid to get to the bottom of things.” Joshua's voice began to wobble all over the place as it was clear that he was under a significant amount of physical pressure altering his ability to think straight.

  “Well that's all I’m asking for you to do. Aren’t you a little bit curious to see what colour panties I have on?” Joshua laughed out loud, almost with a hint of blind panic. He inhaled deeply and tried to compose himself. He looked around the street almost as if to see if anyone were watching.

  “Where do you propose we go?” He asked, trying to resume his cool masculinity.

  “Follow me.”

  Rachel stood up straight and pulled Joshua upright by his tie. It was only then he realised just how tall she was, maybe 6 feet two inches even. He grasped his case and skipped along to keep up with her as she strode off to destination unknown, her high heels clip clopping like a prancing horse upon the pavement. Joshua looked at her again from foot to head and shook his head at his incredible fortune. Where the hell was he going and how would he possibly cope when he got there?

  The couple walked for several hundred yards, Rachel tugging him along by his hand. She did not seem at all sure where her destination was and as she cocked her head down each alley and junction, it became more clear that there was no particular place in Rachel's mind. This was going to be an experience which involved a sense of helplessness and danger and although the thought titillated Joshua, it was not his style.

  Spying a possible target, Rachel hurried her pace until the couple were almost jogging. Joshua was reeling when he realised that they were heading for a burger restaurant and on entry, it was apparent that they were going to tie up the facilities for some time. Joshua continued to shake his head in disbelief as she pulled him inside the disabled lavatory and closed the door firmly behind him.

  Barely having a chance to gulp in a lungful of air, Rachel's mouth was firmly planted over the young journalists lips who grasped her by the waist in an attempt to keep his balance. It was only a matter of seconds before Rachel's wandering hands discovered Joshua's excitement and tugged at him forcefully. It was evident that Rachel was in a hurry for satisfaction and her clothes were quickly removed as Joshua faltered attempting to kick of his shiny black shoes.

  Feeling that Joshua was ready to pleasure her, Rachel turned away from him, hitched up her skirt and invited him forward. Once again Joshua felt that it was all moving too quickly but the pace of the engagement only served to heighten the expectation and it was with a great relief and an intensely arousing experience when Joshua, for once refusing to think about the possible consequences, took his prize.

  Rachel's breath could be heard over the din of diners in the adjacent room as Joshua finished. He mentally brutalised himself for such a poor display. The spontaneous nature of the proceedings did little to help him prepare for the carnal gratification that followed. Disappointed that he may have not completed Rachel's quest for satisfaction, he felt compelled to utter an apology. The tall, slender woman turned to face him. She looked at him with a curious glance and began hurriedly to clothe herself once more.

  Joshua's face was red, his breath rapid. The opium-like stupor sent him to a strange place. Ecstasy met head on with sorrow and shame. Rachel, wearing a white blouse stooped to pick up her suit jacket and umbrella and in a fleeting departure, she gave Joshua a peck on the cheek for his efforts. She said nothing as she unlocked the door and made off into the street. Joshua, still standing against the lavatory wall with his trousers around his ankles looked out to see a couple and a small child in a wheelchair awaiting the facility. The look of utter disdain on their faces was enough to make Joshua frantically pull his trousers up and stumble from the stall. His horror written upon his face, his apologies could not have been more sincere. It was only when he had collected himself in the street that he realised he no longer had his attaché case full of notes. He recalled the past moments with regret as he concluded that Rachel must have taken it when she picked up her jacket. Much to Joshua's shame, he was forced to go back and perform a search of the lavatory but it was to no avail. Rachel had stolen his work of almost two weeks. The nature of his investigation now clear to anyone who read the documents. For the first time, Joshua realised that he was in far deeper than he could ever have possibly imagined.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  December 24th 2020

  The Messenger, Fleet Street, London

  The office was empty bar Joshua. Despite the Christmas period usually being as busy as any other time, the ailing newspaper which had yet to go to print was in a static state of inaction. Fernandes had let the whole staff take the Christmas holiday in a rare offering of generosity. Perhaps his loss really had changed the way he thought about others. Despite now having moved into a small apartment in Bethnal Green, the move was only a temporary one. Right now, he needed to be close to the office. He was expecting a call of some importance and could not bear to miss it by sitting at home being fed the festive cheer and propaganda that he had come to loathe and disrespect.

  Joshua had received a very brief call from the American, it was only long enough to give him a time to be by his phone for a longer more vital call. Joshua had realised that the American's intrusion into his life may have been one of the causal factors behind his seduction and subsequent theft of his hard work. Anything seemed possible of late. Since the Rachel incident, Joshua had barely set foot outside the building without looking over his shoulder. Every phone call was carefully considered and he did not talk openly to anyone about his research. It was time that the American came clean with him and let him know precisely what he had got himself embroiled in.

  It was late, almost 2am but Joshua had promised to be there ready for the call. The American was not always on time but he was reliable none the less. Joshua could not imagine what his situation was but if his imagination shed any possible light on it, then the American was a brave man to be riding the storm and swimming against the tide.

  At 02:12, the phone rang. Joshua took a few moments to compose himself before answering.

  “Hello friend.”

  “Good morning Joshua.”

  “I think it's time for total truth between us.”

  “Absolutely, I agree. Unfortunately until now I have not had the pleasure of a secure line but I have met a few friends which have helped out a little. I must impress on you however, that despite my best efforts, this conversation may be recorded. Before I continue, I need to know that you are willing to take the risk of being traced. I have little doubt that if this call is picked up, the mentioning of keywords will trigger an automated alert and if the guys at the FBI are awake, then we could be at extreme risk. I have of course taken every possible measure to reduce this risk however.”

  “Yeah, I thinks it's a bit late for that mate. I'm fairly sure I’m being watched and have been for a while.”

  “OK. That's not good but it's workable. You are chipped right?”

  “Yes, although the whole process was totally flawed. My colleague was arrested. Alien infiltrator, what a pile of shit.”

  “I do love the way you British guys say that. I’m grieved for your loss my friend, I too have lost very good people, innocent people.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that. Now I think it's time for you to tell me what's happened to Jill?”

  “OK. To be honest, I can't say if Jill is alive or dead. I hope e
veryday that she is well and just one of many who have been arrested for knowing too much. I am afraid to inform you however that Paul has passed away. Well, I believe he was murdered.”

  “Oh my God. Can you tell me why?”

  “I will try and explain. My name is Roger Coffey, formerly of the United States Air Force and more recently of NASA. I'm a shuttle navigator, I flew my last mission the day before the 'red dawn'. I was a replacement for my best friend, Paul who had 'committed suicide' earlier in the week. I knew Jill for years, we were formerly partners, both she and her daughters I believe have been abducted or maybe worse.”

  “Wow. That's incredible. I mean, I’m stunned.”

  “Since my return, I have escaped a potentially nasty accident and a more overt attempt to take my life by US soldiers. I took refuge with an old acquaintance who I now believe to have been murdered also. I'm a fugitive, un-chipped and on the run. Enemy of the state, suspected alien infiltrator and many other things. Go figure.”