The Code

By John R Northern

The Code
Without them all is lost; they can be changed or remade... They can be created to suit those who hold the power; Those who control, control the code.
On a future Earth, little grows due to the poor atmosphere. In this world the apostles of Xenab await a miracle. Into this industrial world Xavier grows up unwanted, harbouring deep resentment and bitterness. Through his anger he learns the benefit of spite and vengence.
Without warning Leon loses the thing his loves most, a fact that starts a chain of events that will lead to others around him being drawn into a web of intrigue and dispair. One that ultimately results in the promised land coming closer than the apostles dreamed, and in a way that none of them, or any others, could foresee.
The code will draw you in, hold you and make your heart go faster whilst you read it. Cause for thought, like any good story I suggest. J

• Language: English
• Publisher: John R Northern
• Release date: Jan 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466085183

John R Northern

if science fiction and adventure are your thing I may be what you have been looking for! My stories will take you to places that you have never been. New characters and new worlds in an expanding universe are all there to be found. So buckle up and enjoy the ride.

Book preview

THE CODE

Written by John Northern

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Published by John Northern on Smashwords 2012

The Code

Copyright 2012 by John Northern

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Table of contents

Chapter One: An unhappy beginning

Chapter Two: Saints and sinners

Chapter Three: Double Jeopardy

Chapter Four: Money is the root of all evil?

Chapter Five: Reach out and touch somebody.

Chapter Six: Outcomes, expected and unforeseen

Chapter Seven: Art for arts’ sake

Chapter One: An unhappy beginning

‘He’s a funny looking baby’ said Mrs. Peach at the door of the orphanage as she picked up the small noisy bundle that had been left out in the cold night by a poor unfortunate ‘I wonder who couldn’t cope?’ said Miss Cherry in response. ‘How many have we had this month Mary?’ Mrs. Peach asked. ‘Twenty three Mrs. P.’ miss Cherry replied. ‘That makes him the twenty fourth, so I shall call you Xavier!’

Xavier spent his first years in tears, either because he wanted something or because of what others did to him. How he hated this life how he felt trapped by his existence and the cruel way in which those children he was forced to live with made petty jibes and comments about the way in which he did not fit in. Whatever he tried to do he was pushed away by his peers in the dreary cold confines of the orphanage.

Even at meal times those he knew would crowd together to stop him from sitting near them. It was as if he was a stain on their lives that they were trying to remove. Eventually this turned him away and made his heart cold and bitter. Making it hard for him to show pity or love in any form.

As Xavier sat inside on the bright sunny day he could hear the other children playing their games on the field outside. The sound of their games made him feel hollow inside, knowing that he would never be accepted as part of their fun and games. He walked across the classroom and looked out of the window, as if through a haze.

He cried at their joy, but he knew in his heart that he would never be accepted by them, all due to reasons beyond his control. He turned away from the window and without realization his pencil was now snapped in two in the palm of his white, clenched fist. Dropping it, he put his hands over his ears to block out the noise, yet it did not stop the voices in his head.

Ones that told him things; ‘That they were wrong and they should listen to him. That they should take notice of him, that they did not understand him. They would be sorry some day, which some day they would pay.’

His heart was racing and he felt dizzy, yet Xavier knew things were meant to be like this and would change, but not just yet. He looked down at his dirty fingernails longing for someone to hold him and tell him they cared. To feel their fingers through his hair would have meant so much. But he could not remember the last time that had happened, he hardened his heart and blocked out the world around him, returning to the solitude of his room.

By 14 years old Xavier had had enough of the living hell that was the orphanage, and all