The Prometheus Effect

by Jonathan Davison

  Joshua knew that time was a precious commodity. That morning, the government assigned team of players moved in and set up their stall in the Messenger's offices. Headed up by a tall wiry Gene Hackman look-alike named Jameson, his ominous presence signalled an end to banter in the office and introduced a new era of process and rigidity. Joshua sensed it would only be a matter of days before he was hauled in front of a panel and given his P45. Not only was he the type of journalist they did not want at the paper, he would no doubt also be on a list of potential troublemakers and quickly shown the door. If he could somehow take advantage of the turmoil in the office and discover a loop hole in the process, perhaps there was a small chance that he could take the chance of putting his own two pence in and strike whilst the iron was hot. It would be a very risky undertaking that could have dire consequences but perhaps it was worth the gamble at this point.

  Joshua leaned back and stretched his taut back muscles. He swung around on his chair and peered out of the window into the dark night sky. The television's light pulsated with the strobing effect of camera flashes and it drew his attention to the screen where it seemed that the usual dirge of nondescript and repetitive news stories had been temporarily set aside for some light relief.

  The government had seemingly surpassed themselves this time in their self adulation and propaganda. Joshua sniffed with contempt as it appeared that some kind of award ceremony was taking place to honour those who had fallen foul of the vile aliens and for those who had fought valiantly against the foe and lived to tell the tale. Joshua leaned back and grabbed the remote control. Increasing the volume, Joshua's interest was captured by the production which was being beamed live from an undisclosed location in the heart of London. In Joshua's memory, this was possibly the first live television event to be screened since the red dawn itself. Joshua surmised that live television was perhaps too unpredictable and open to error when conducting a mass cover up. The fact that the government had relaxed its own procedure for this glittering event showed its confidence and its desire to rally the public behind their 'heroes'.

  Joshua watched with interest as it's host, none other than Beck Stein, a television personality who had had a string of successful chat shows presented the occasion. His unflappable style and smarmy charm seemed to suit the cheesy, patriotic fluff that spewed forth. His manner was upbeat when required but suitably sombre when necessary. A theatre appeared well stocked with an obliging audience who clapped merrily on command and pictured for perhaps the first time since the beginning, a calm relaxed Prime Minister who sat quaffing a glass of sparkling wine in a velvet red seat.

  Joshua pulled his chair closer as the compère announced the arrival on stage of a number of brave military personnel who had been decorated for their services to their country and their planet. One by one they took to the stage to be honoured by a committee of elderly suited men of no particular designation. A warm hand shake and a medal pinned to their chest, they were not given the opportunity to speak but all seemed to accept their prize with a subdued glee. A well spoken narrator offered more details on each of the awards as Stein stepped back to applaud with his veneered teeth glimmering in the spotlights.

  Joshua was about to lose interest and resume his writing when the host began to talk about the civilians role in the war against 'terror from space' as it was dubbed. Stein began to extol the virtues of all those who had been previously marginalised and denounced as frauds but had now become vindicated in light of the new threat. Jimmy Stock sprang to Joshua's mind and he wondered if he was now watching this with mixed feelings and confusion. Joshua's question was soon answered almost as if the director had read his mind. Panning across the front row of the audience, an array of characters, old and young, wizened and fresh faced all sat nervously shuffling on their seats and blushing. As the camera panned across, Joshua's heart thumped in his chest as a man with an extraordinary likeness to Jimmy sat at the end looking pensive and psyched.

  “Oh Christ, Jimmy what are you doing?” Joshua called out to the television set.

  One by one, the civilians were all called to the stage to receive their award, a medallion on a ribbon presented to them by the Prime Minister Deacon himself. Joshua was suddenly in turmoil. He did not know what to expect next. Had Jimmy accepted the award and disregarded the reporters heartfelt efforts to enlighten him, or, had he accepted the offer of an audience with the country's leader for other less peaceful purposes. As Jimmy stepped up to the stage Joshua placed his hands to his cheeks.

  “No, no, no.” Joshua muttered expecting the worst.

  When Jimmy Stock's name was called there was an unnatural delay which had not been present with the other presentations. The narrator made light of the non appearance only for the edgy looking taxi driver to step into the camera shot and put an end to the awkward moment. Instead of walking past Stein and towards the Prime minister, Jimmy paused and stepped over to whisper something in the comedians ear. Beck Stein looked instantly stressed and glanced over to the Prime Minister who appeared disinterested as he spoke to the young female who stood beside him. Jimmy turned to the audience and the camera which was trained closely on his face and leaned over to the microphone which was fastened to an Autocue system. Holding up a hand to silence the audience, it was clear that he wanted to address the public and immediately there was a sense that something was wrong.

  “I want to say something...” He mumbled, clearly not having used a microphone before, he was almost inaudible. As a worried presenter gestured to the stage manager, Jimmy spoke again knowing his impromptu speech would easily be cut off if he were seen to be causing trouble. Looking over to the Prime Minister he held his hand up and waved.

  “Don't worry, I'm not a Conservative.” He jested causing the audience to laugh including Deacon who grinned.

  “Do you know I've had an incredible experience. An experience that I would not wish on my worst enemy...”

  Jimmy sounded agitated but the audience and director obviously felt that he was about to deliver a shot in the arm for the flagging hearts and minds of the country.

  “My whole life has changed since the day I was abducted from my home. I was tortured, molested and subjected to pain that no human should ever be allowed to...”

  Jimmy choked up just remembering the horror.

  “I sometime wonder why? Why me? Well, I came to the conclusion that it was because maybe I was special, maybe I had a purpose, maybe I had a destiny to fulfil instead of being some worthless taxi driver...”

  The camera panned to Deacon's face who looked mildly embarrassed by Jimmy's outpouring of emotion.

  “...and of course today I realise that I was just one of many who had been used and abused by the most despicable, and terrible of enemies. All of these people were picked because they were like me, just normal people who accepted what came to them and didn't know or care about the whys and the wherefores...”

  Jimmy covered his mouth, he had the irresistible feeling that Jimmy Stock was dictating his own epitaph.

  “...except I’m different.”

  The audience was clearly confused and some even applauded at Jimmy's passionate rant. There was hurried movement around the stage and Joshua watched Steins eyes which frantically looked across to the stage exit.

  “I've got something to tell you all and it's God's own truth...”

  Jimmy raised his voice and Joshua took a deep sharp inhalation of breath.

  “...The alien invasion is a fraud, I was wrong, I was tortured by humans and it's all a fucking lie!”

  Jimmy screamed out so loud that the microphone distorted and the audience drew breath in horror. Instantly several dark figures seemed to pounce on to the stage with the intention of removing Jimmy before he could utter another word but Jimmy had other ideas and his swansong would not be ended so easily or with such a anti-climatic end. Two loud cracks were suddenly heard as the director in his absolute confusion and haste managed to press any possible button in order to divert t
he outgoing feed. The camera view flashed around and the screen finally went black as screams and more shots were heard and for a heart stopping few seconds, the millions watching at home would have to make up their own minds how the affair came to a conclusion. The audio cut out and silence ensued for at least twenty seconds before some quick witted broadcast assistant pushed a button to begin one of the tired but regularly shown public safety films.

  Joshua sat still, numbed by what he had just seen. The safety film played out before him, the irony was great as the presentation seemed poorly timed after what had transpired. Joshua knew Jimmy was dead. There could have been no other conclusion. He kicked himself for allowing Jimmy to take things into his own hands but the more he thought about it, the more he should have maybe seen it coming. Jimmy's life had little meaning, if he had not tried to at least make the best of his situation then it would have been a life wasted. Despite his grief for a good and noble man, Joshua could not help but punch the air in some kind of bizarre delight. It was the first moment of realisation for the people of Britain, a small but significant hint of doubt had been implanted into their brains.

  Joshua walked over to the sideboard where he had an unopened bottle of cognac which he had been given as a gift several years ago. He had hoped to use it to celebrate a special occasion but now it seemed a fitting time to break the seal and drink to Jimmy's life and hope that in death, he had truly made a difference.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  January 3rd 2021

  Joshua awoke the next morning and had already turned on his television before the sleep was rubbed out of his eyes. He was intrigued to see how the state were going to play down the extraordinary events of the previous evening. An innocent but angry man was possibly gunned down on live television, unarmed. Somehow, Joshua knew that the shocking episode would be clouded with more lies.

  “Who is James Stock? A solitary man, a social outcast and according to psychological reports filed last year, a 'dangerously deluded individual and a potential danger to the public'. How Stock escaped the net is a matter for discussion but it is not only his mental health issues which have been unearthed in the quest to find out more about this crazed gunman and would be assassin.”

  Joshua was greeted by the expected attempt to dishonour and discredit Jimmy. What would they unearth that was so abhorrent, so repellent that it would regain the absolute trust that the government seemed to have previously engendered.

  “Sources in the Kremlin have revealed that James Stock was in fact born Konstantin Pavlov, a Russian national and former KGB agent. The Prime minister today thanked the Russian President for the 'timely response' to information requests regarding Pavlov and his transparency in the revealing of details regarding former hit-man. Speculation exists over the true meaning of the assassination attempt, but many believe Pavlov was opposed to the Prime Minister's leading role in the repelling of the alien threat and the attempted hit was purely an act of envious patriotism. Further to earlier updates on the Prime Minister's condition, it is believed that a gunshot wound, previously thought to be serious is now known to be superficial and doctors expect a full recovery. The Prime minister was unable to comment at this time and is recovering at home. An MI5 officer who has yet to be formally named was reported to be shot dead by Pavlov who himself died of his injuries later last night. The officer bravely used his body as a human shield in an attempt to save the Prime minister's life. His family have been informed.”

  Joshua shook his head in dejection as he lay in bed, the sun beginning to rise outside turning his wallpaper pink with its morning rays. He knew that the government would think of something to besmirch Jimmy's good name but to present him as a KGB hit-man was almost laughable. He supposed however, that being such a solitary man, it was not as if many others would come forward and denounce the lies. It also angered Joshua that it was very clear that the first shots were fired not by Jimmy who was at no point even seen with a weapon. He very much hoped that the public would believe what they saw with their own eyes rather than the fairytale that the government had conjured. Somehow, Joshua knew that Jimmy's last stand would live short in the memory and the alternative history of his life would no doubt be backed up by falsified records and testimony.

  Lifting his collar to put on his tie, Joshua prepared for work as if it were any other day, but somehow with the new editors in place and submissions for the first edition of the year to be put forward for scrutiny, he could feel that this was going to be no ordinary shift.

  There was an unfamiliar chime, it was Joshua's newly installed land-line telephone. Believing the call to be from the telecoms service as no-one as yet knew his number, he was preparing to give them an earful for calling at such an early hour whether he was out of bed already or not.

  “Hello Joshua, you're an easy man to track down.”

  It was clearly the voice of Coffey and the crackly line reinforced the fact.

  “How the bloody hell did you get this number?” Joshua asked, incredulous.

  “Oh, you're underestimating the powers of my friends. I knew you were moving so we just looked up the records for new subscriptions in the London area and found your details.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “Well, like I said, I have some competent friends. I also hear that there was some drama on TV last night?”

  “You're so clued up I'm surprised you haven’t figured out how to sort this whole mess out yet?”

  “Well, it's a digital world these days. We get bored with local television. Exciting though wasn't it?”

  “Before you stick your foot in it any more Roger I should tell you that I knew Jimmy Stock well and I'm devastated. It's all bullshit, you know that?”

  “Well I knew the bullshit part. Sorry for being so crass, I didn’t know. What's the link?”

  “I met him by chance but used him for my research. He was a genuinely down to earth guy who had an awful experience. I saw him at Christmas and convinced him that it was a fraud. I never expected anything like this.”

  “Don't be too hard on yourself, I know you think that your somehow to blame but in a way Stock's death has caused a tiny ripple in a large pond. The ripple gets bigger and you don't know yet how far it will go.”

  “Assuming this line is secure as it can be, any news?”

  “We're working on a number of things. We're building bridges internationally, finding out what's out there to work with. There's a fair amount of hysteria in the less developed countries. It seems the level of control across the globe isn’t that of the U.S. or the U.K. I guess the red sky really put wind up the natives. Unfortunately any country with the power to inflict change and the means to do so are thoroughly embroiled in the whole affair. International flights are still grounded as I’m sure you know so don't pack your bags yet. If things get too hot for you there I'd get hold of a boat and paddle to Spain, we hear the government are ready to collapse there.”

  “That's a comfort. I have a few avenues to explore here but they are risky. There might be someone who can help me put something in place but it would a 'Hail Mary' pass as you Yanks would say. Once it's done it's done and I'm as good as done. Anyway, don't get your hopes up, it's still a long shot and not sure if it's feasible.”

  “Sounds promising but don't take any unnecessary risks. We don't have to crack this in a day but in the light of recent events maybe a follow up revelation or two could be effective.”

  “Well in this case, it could be now or never anyway. I'll let you know the score next time you ring.”

  “OK my friend. If there's anything we can do here? I have a few leads that we are acting upon, maybe I can supply you with fresh intel before your last hurrah?”

  “Thanks, might be useful. I would say I'd call but...”

  “I'll ring you every evening at some point although I can't guarantee when. Sorry if I get you out of bed, you think it's early where you are? Would love you to take my call but if you're busy then don't stress.”
>
  “OK Roger, take care of yourself.”

  “You too, and don't take any unnecessary risks. Be patient!”

  Roger's relaxed style aided Joshua no end and he wished he could take some of that unflappable suave and use it himself. Joshua was fortunate to have such an able accomplice, if anything, the conversations reinforced Joshua's fighting spirit and eased the load from his shoulders. The coming days would be telling, Joshua might not live to see the end of the week and the possibilities were tormenting the young reporter. Joshua remembered Sarah and reminiscing brought back the fire in his belly and the will to carry on.

  Joshua pulled his tie on tight and wrapped his jacket around his shoulders. He had an important person to see that may or may not have the will to aid him in his quest. He had to play it right or he could lose his position and end up powerless to make the difference he yearned.