The Red Light

By Ian Parker

It was called the world treaty. A document forged from the fires of the final war, ensuring the horrors of the past would never again have the power to stain the conscience of earth's future. It was a promise of peace that still remained unbroken. An agreement that saw an all powerful world government rise from the ashes of the old sovereign nations.

Of course some liberties had been taken, but the continued peace surely made up for that? Maurice Williams certainly believed so, a child of the new age he'd been raised in that new world. Feeling safe and secure within the arms of the World Party, the benevolent watch dog forever watching over its people.

In fact the only thing that worried him were the ambers. The ever present human thorns in his otherwise enjoyable existence. Moving through life with invisible blinkers he forcefully ignores them, yet fate has other ideas and soon Maurice must face that which he fears the most.

The Red Light is the first book in the The Chronicles Of Truth series. Accompany Maurice Williams as he uncovers a dark conspiracy, a conspiracy that stretches back to the dawn of time. Witness his horror as he loses his home, his love and quite possibly his life. With nothing left to lose can he find the strength to carry on?

Aprox 88500 words 355 pages

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian Parker
• Release date: Sep 3, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476193618

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The stench was unbearable, a sickly odour that filled the frigid air with a pervading rottenness. Maurice endured the stink as best he could, his nostrils flaring and twitching in disgust. He didn’t know how long it had been; only that he had to get out soon. With his resolve failing he began to rock rhythmically, his despair twisting and mutating into something much worse. Sanity was a word he no longer dared consider, the cold fear that he was losing his own barely kept at bay.

The boredom and constant discomfort were the worst things. There was nothing to provide relief, the cold damp walls of his cell bleak and unforgiving. If there had been a decent light then maybe he would have carried his punishment easier, but the hole was just that; a dark dank pit dug into the cold earth. Fear, anger and despair were his only companions here, torrid emotions that fought for dominance over his aching soul. As the hot anger took him again he began to shout in defiance, screaming wild threats as he pounded the earthen walls, his fists protesting in bursts of fire. There was no response, his threats and desperate pleas ignored and unheeded. As time trickled by he felt his isolation grow, slowly drowning in the suffocating silence.

Respite was a dream in the hole; the simple yet cruelly effective design ensuring the prisoners continued suffering. He’d experimented with crouching, standing and leaning but nothing helped. The mud walls were just too narrow and the grill above his head far too low, the only option an enforced hunch. The cell if you could call it that was an almost maintenance free torture device. The unfortunate inhabitant made to squat in an unnatural crouch, their spine and limbs bunched up at painful angles.

Maurice screamed again as his voice broke into a despairing weep, the hopelessness of his situation insurmountable. Straining his aching body he attempted to twist, seeking a comfort he would never find in the hole. He grimaced as his feet squelched wetly on the boggy floor, his toes sinking deeply into the urine soaked faeces that layered his cell. Since his incarceration he’d dry heaved numerous times, only the enforced starvation staying his stomach's revolt.

Minutes stretched into hours and hours into days, the semi darkness of the prison confounding his senses. Survival was a daily struggle, what little sustenance he received was tossed unceremoniously through the covering grill. Humiliated, but not willing to die Maurice was forced to wait with gaping mouth, desperate for a drop of the life giving gruel. It was a show that the guards loved to watch, laughing at his humiliation while they took bets on when he would break.

Not a day passed without enduring their death threats, the overzealous guards taking great pleasure from stamping on his grill, while they shouted and jeered into his pit. Maurice could feel himself crumbling, his mind slowly snapping as constant terror forced ever closer to the edge. Even the short respite of sleep was stolen by the sadistic guards, laughing as they dowsed his wretched frame with icy water. Fighting desperately he tried to cling on, only the thought of her face bolstering him.

Over the last few days he’d grown delirious, coughing and shivering while his body remained feverishly hot. Exhausted he couldn’t even hold a crouch anymore, reduced to squatting with his feet bent in awkwardly against his bare behind. The boggy earth beneath him and the overpowering stink were constant afflictions, he tried his best to endure them knowing there could be no escape. He didn’t even have the strength to imagine freedom anymore, the hole slowly destroying him from the inside. It felt as though the very core of his being was been eaten away, consumed piece by piece in the cold wet darkness.

Yet even in his darkest deluges of self-pity there remained a small spark of hope, a spark that grew dimmer but still managed to smoulder. Maurice clung desperately to that hope; willing the long days until his release to pass quicker. He cried a lot. It wasn’t something he could control, as powerful torrents of despair overcame him. It was during the throes of fever that he first saw her again, a breath of beauty that filled the ugly cell. Her soft eyes peered at him with understanding and love as she moved closer to him.

With tears of happiness he reached out, stroking her gossamer soft hair. She smiled a perfect smile at his touch but then she froze. Her eyes narrowing as her smile twisted into a grotesque leer. Her soft white skin darkened as splotches of disease grew on her flesh. Ugly welts of infection erupted on her sweet lips, the boils red and puss laden. Screaming he faced the nightmare, powerless to withdraw his hand that still reached out to her. There was nothing there; only cold earthen walls greeted his numb fingers. Screaming in fresh despair he began to weep, the fever born hallucination harrowing and hurtful. More and more he thought of her as he suffered, unable to stop the unwanted memories.

That previous life seemed like a dream now, his only reality the hole. Yet he knew he’d once held her, smelled her perfume and kissed her sweet lips. No matter what they did to him they couldn’t take that from him. Reaching as a drowning man he pictured her face, this time her likeness was true, nothing soiling her innocent beauty. If only he could hold her again, the desire was so strong it hurt. Never before had Maurice craved anything so badly, but desire alone wasn't enough. If only they hadn’t taken the test they could have still had each other. Of course it wouldn’t have been legal, but it would have been something. Anything would have been better than this.

Living further and further in the past, his fever addled brain played his memory’s projector. The life he’d had presented before him; it hadn’t been a bad one. All his worries and daily irks, trivial and insubstantial from his current perspective. He now completely understood the happiness he’d once held, a pity his enlightenment came with such a heavy cost. Sure his working hours had been long, but the rewards of his job had more than compensated him. Working as a paramedic had always felt like a calling to Maurice, the sense of wellbeing he'd felt as he saved someone’s life a reward in itself. Maurice distinctly remembered one morning; it was one of the last few days he’d had with Rachel before everything had changed.

CHAPTER 2

Slowly Maurice swam to consciousness, regarding the bedside alarm with building frustration. It was 6:00 AM and time to start a new day. Bearing more resemblance to Neolithic man than his modern day ancestor he clobbered the off button, clambering tiredly out of his pit. Yawning deeply he stood up, unable to shake the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t slept. A quick shower went some way to restoring his humanity and a gulped cup of coffee did the rest.

Leaving his H class domicile with seconds to spare, he headed towards the Southbound Interlink Speedway. Unfortunately the streets of New Leeds were busy this morning, a constant throng of commuters jostling for position. Maurice hated commuting and today was no exception, cursing inwardly he fought against the morning’s workforce rush. The streets were full of amber lights today, their pitiful eyes and fearful looks filling him with a quiet unease. Shaking his head he continued to walk, pointedly ignoring them as he fixed his eyes on the station entrance.

He made the platform just as the speeder was getting ready to leave, only just managing to squeeze onto the packed vehicle. As usual there wasn’t a seat to be seen, the carriages fit too burst with their cargo of human sardines. Pushing his way through the crowds he managed to secure a precarious hand hold; penned in between a large halitosis wielding woman and a morose man in a threadbare suit. Staring out of the window he resigned himself to his fate, the fifteen minute journey suddenly seeming much longer. With an electronic hum the speeder slowly rose in the air, the anti-gravity engine cycling then rumbling as optimum output was attained. With an impressive whoosh the tubular vehicle departed the station, careering down the speeder lanes.

As Maurice glanced around the carriage an unexpected sight caught his eye, a few booths back there seemed to be an unoccupied seat. Surprised, but feeling very smug he began to struggle through the uncooperative crush. A few more steps and it was his, the unlikely find unoccupied and inviting. Unfortunately his internal celebration was cut short as the reason for the vacant seat became clear. Occupying the neighbouring space was an amber, the women’s wrist light burning with a sickly pallor.

Coming to a sudden stop he tried to retreat, gripped with an awful repugnance at his social faux pas. It was no use; the jostling wall of people had thickened behind him removing his escape route. The amber turned slowly as she noticed the commotion, her dark ringed eyes finding his. Within their depths he witnessed an agonising despair, her gaunt face burning a guilty hole inside him. Like a moth to a flame he was transfixed, her desperate eyes capturing and holding his own. With a great mental effort he finally managed to pull away, spending the rest of the journey in an uncomfortable limbo. Was it his imagination or could he feel her eyes burning into his back? Unfortunately he didn’t have the gall to turn around and check.

As soon as the Speeder docked he darted forward, quickly immersing himself in the departing passengers. The stream of people swallowed him as he left, washing away the journey’s discomfort as he regained his anonymity. It was a short walk from the station to the City’s South Side Hospital and he made the journey in good time. Climbing the steps to the entrance he shook his head, still unable to fully shake the feelings of guilt the amber had stirred in his social conscious.

Maurice considered himself an avoider; surviving life’s trials by ignoring what he didn’t like or understand. That was his way of dealing with the ambers, a sustained denial of their existence. He’d often pass by them as if they weren't there, ignoring their pleading looks, staying safe within his bubble. It was a coping tactic he’d invented in his youth, using it to ward against the street walkers and tramps left over from the war years. At least he didn’t have to deal with that particular annoyance anymore, the governments Clean Start programme had seen to that.

Unfortunately the morning’s events had forced him to acknowledge an amber, her suffering rudely piercing his many layers of carefully manufactured protection. Grunting in exasperation he reached the hospital door, forcing the woman’s image from his mind. Angelo the security guard nodded to him as he passed the first security gate. The inner door was manned by Bill; a friendly old Yorkshire man.

Ey up Maurice, called Bill, as he released the gate. Wasn’t sure I’d see you in today with all the shifts you’ve been pulling, you’re going to give yourself stress lad. Maurice smiled as he passed through the gate; Bill’s bluntness always had a cheering effect on him.

Well you know me Bill, I just can’t get enough of this place. I’d sleep here if I could.

Same here my old mate, only way I’m leaving is in a box! Bill quipped. Maurice left him still chuckling and made his way to the paramedics changing room. Climbing inside his protective suit, he made sure to cover all his vulnerable spots and headed to the ambulance pods. Tiredness seemed to be his long term companion of late and he yawned deeply as he walked.

His ride was waiting in Bay A, piloted by Rachel his long term team crew mate.

Morning Rach, sorry I’m a late, the speed way was murder this morning, how you doing? Rachel smiled as he entered the vehicle, her long eye lashes flickering demurely.

I’m good thanks, just wish the administration would give us our old shifts, I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. She yawned as she spoke and Maurice couldn’t help but notice the dark bags beneath her eyes. The observation brought an unwanted memory of the amber which he quickly banished.

I know it’s not fair Rach, he said sighing, But I guess it could be worse and unfortunately ours is not to question why. She sighed as he spoke, reaching out and stroking his thick black arms.

You know Mau, I don’t know what I’d do without you. They both smiled at each other, his gentle brown eyes communing with hers as they hugged.

As long as I’ve got breath in my body I’ll be there for you. He whispered into her ear.

I know you will Maurice, that’s why I love you. They had been an item for almost eight months now and it was going really well. It was so serious in fact that they’d decided to go for green light status, wanting the chance to take their relationship to the next level.

Well I guess we better get on, we don’t want Harper breathing down our necks.

Aye, Aye boss! she joked, scanning her ID card to fire the generator. With practiced grace she pulled the hover ambulance into flight, heading towards the hanger doors. Contacting control Maurice gained clearance, as the double clad Tungstenite doors slowly rumbled open, releasing the vehicle into the busy skyways. Floating anti-grav buoys painted carriageways in the sky which Rachel navigated with the ease of an experienced pilot. Upon clearing the hangar the communication panel lit up with incoming calls.

Looks like it’s going to be one of those days, Maurice grimaced. He punched up the first call; there had been a fire in a Domicile Z building, burns victims and smoke inhalation the order of the day. Rachel Hit the siren and pulled away from the public lanes, exiting the skyways into open air. They reached their destination in minutes, a testament to their individual skills as pilot and navigator. Even before their romantic relationship they’d made a great team, the next step had just seemed like a natural progression.

Spread below, the Z towered block was being consumed by a raging fire, teams of emergency vehicles sprayed retardants in a bitter attempt to control the blaze.

Looks like they’ve got their work cut out for them, Maurice observed. He quickly located a clear area a few metres away from the building. Set her down there, just in front of the police line. Rachel complied with professional ease, coaxing gentle blasts from her landing jets she expertly brought the ambulance down into a text book landing. By now there was quite a crowd behind the police barricade, passers-by pushing and shoving to get a better look. This was the cities lower class and events like this were seen as cheap entertainment by the majority of the residents.

Leaving the ambulance they rushed over to the police sergeant who was manning the barricade.

What’s the story? asked Maurice, Any injured made it out? The officer turned to them, his bearded face grim and hard.

Not yet, the fire teams struggling with two fires, a small one up on the second and that beast up there. He pointed skyward. The first ones nearly under control now, so hopefully they should be able to get to the people trapped above. As he spoke the crowd suddenly surged forward, push um back lads, hold the line he bellowed. The human barrier bent but held, as the plexi-shields pushed hard against the rowdy crowd. He turned back to Maurice, I really don’t get these people, why anyone in their right mind would want to get closer to that is beyond me.

Minutes later the first casualties were freed, their limp bodies deposited on the concrete floor as the firemen rushed back to the building. Initial assessment was poor; two of the casualties had suffered more than seventy percent burns and were struggling to breathe. The third was less serious; a few nasty burns but nothing that a rehydrating cream and dressing wouldn’t fix. Working as a team they secured the two critical patients first, strapping them both to medi-boards and loading them into the ambulance. Maurice immediately began emergency treatment, providing pain relief and much needed oxygen. After helping the less injured woman aboard, Rachel quickly returned to the cockpit.

With a full load Rachel powered up the engines, tearing back into the air. Maurice remained in the back monitoring the patients and fighting to keep them stable. He inserted life monitors into their arms and began to gell-pack their burns. The two criticals were really struggling, their heartbeats erratic accompanied by critically low respiration levels.

Rach, we got two code oranges what’s our eta.

Nearly there Mau, should be hitting home base in under a minute. Rachel’s voice sounded strained, all her attention focussed upon navigating the busy hospital skyways. Setting the craft down in the emergency bay she hit the landing siren, on cue four blue coated med assistants appeared. Maurice quickly informed them of the patient’s condition, as they hurriedly carried them into the hospital.

The fire set a trend for the rest of their day, the unusually hot autumn turning New Leeds into a pyromaniac’s playground. It was approaching seven before control finally gave the word, the relief staff ready to take over for the nightshift.

Well that’s another twelve hour shift under the belt, said Rachel, I honestly don’t think I can cope with many more. Maurice stroked her soft hair, looking affectionately at her pretty face.

I know it’s hard but what can we do? With the funding cuts recruitments frozen, were just going to have to sit it out. Rachel laid her face on Maurice’s large hands, drawing much needed comfort from him.

I know your right Maurice, I’m just so tired, she yawned. And these shifts are killing me, I need a holiday.

Maurice chuckled, me and you both love. They smiled tiredly as she navigated into the open hanger, no matter what happened they still had each other.

Fancy coming over to mine tonight? Rachel asked. I can cook if you want, I’ll do us chicken surprise. Maurice was undecided, he was dog tired but the promise of her signature dish was very tempting. Looking down at her expectant face was too much, how could he ever say no to her?

He grinned, I’d love that gal, you know I can’t resist your home cooking.

Great, she smiled back at him. It’s a date. They used the hospital showers and then Rachel drove them back to her apartment. Rachel’s block was on the other side of the city but the construction was identical, both being the standard H class domicile. Placing her palm on the print lock she opened her apartment, the magnetron door sliding apart noisily.

Although the room’s layout matched Maurice’s, the interior couldn’t have been more different. The main living area was awash in a sea of pinks and purples, punctuated by crazy spotted cushions and bean bags strewn across the thickly carpeted floor. Multi coloured crystal lightshades adding to the rainbow effect, immersing her visitors in a symphony of light and colour. The living room was an incredibly busy area yet everything gelled, creating a perfectly functional work of art.

Sinking gratefully onto her purple suite she grabbed Maurice eagerly, pulling him down on top of her. They embraced, caressing each other passionately, their hands delving beneath their clothes. Maurice pulled off his t-shirt revealing chiselled abs as he hungrily fondled her soft flesh. She gasped with excitement at his figure; perfect chocolate flesh moulded into gladiatorial muscles. Pouncing forward he pushed her down, her lithe body spread before him. Straddling her he tore off her top, her soft bosoms covered by a red lacy bra. With strong hands he cupped her warm breasts, Rachel’s breath coming in short passionate gasps. She peered up at him with adoring eyes; here was the man she’d gladly spend her life with. They stroked and held each other for a while, until eventually Maurice pulled back.

I’m sorry Rach, I’ve got to stop, any more and I’ll lose control. He looked at his girlfriend with unveiled lust, reluctantly pulling on his shirt. Rachel met his gaze sadly, her eyes filled with longing and unfulfilled desires.

I love you Maurice, we’ve got our tests in a few days, she bit her bottom lip, we’ve just got to be strong. Maurice lowered his head, rubbing his tight knit hair in frustration.

I know, it’s just so hard. She embraced him as he spoke, trying to soothe his pent up emotion.

You just sit there Mau, I’m going to make you a dinner that will make you forget everything, she winked as she left, her perfect ass shaking sexily. Sighing loudly he leaned back on her sofa, his member an iron bar beneath his pants. Resigned to his frustration he turned on her holo-set, the machine starting with a hiss of static and an electronic pop. The Gov-info channel immediately jumped into life as Lord Earnest Smyth appeared in the living room, the intruder composed entirely of light. The man was halfway through a party political broadcast preaching the World Parties rhetoric, just the light sort of viewing that Maurice needed. Sighing again he watched Smyth spout his dogma of strength and unity, ever the perfect orator and ideal world leader.

Maurice wasn't politically orientated; he preferred to leave politics to its own devices in the hope that the courtesy would be returned. His outlook had served him well during his life, keeping him from trouble and avoiding unnecessary confrontation. It wasn't that he harboured any strong opposition to the world party, it was just he didn't care very much about it. As long as their policies didn’t interfere too much in his own life, then he was happy, what more could he want.

Of course he’d known people who were openly anti-government, especially during his student years. Accusing them of wild unthinkable things; population control, orchestrated terrorist threats, contrived diseases and many other half-baked conspiracies. Maurice had listened to their theories as was only polite, but never once had he crossed the line of actually believing. To think that a number of the so called academia could be so misled was distressing.

In his own mind he preferred to think of the party as a benevolent watch dog, giving a guiding hand and a set of life rules. If you lived by the laws then you were rewarded with a good life, it didn’t take a genius to see the alternative’s folly. You only had to look into the eyes of an amber to see that, their dejected anguish enough to keep Maurice from ever straying from the path.

At thirty years of age Maurice was a child of the new world; the emerging beacon of civilisation forged in the aftermath of world war III. The Final war, as it was termed had ended in 2022, with the subsequent world treaty ensuring a lasting worldwide peace. He’d entered the world a year after this monumental event, the child of historian Patrick Williams and loving mother Martha. His childhood had been a relatively pleasant affair; raised under the watchful eye of his pacifist parents, they’d taught him the values of peace and non-violence. They weren't exactly wealthy, but neither were they poor, able to provide Maurice with a good schooling from an early age.

He’d grown up in a time of great upheaval; the shadow of war, famine and violence still ever present. Even after the treaty was signed, hatred burned strong between the opposing nations, atrocities on both sides keeping it smouldering for years to come. The war had officially ended when the allied nations of Europe, USA and Russia dropped the first Alpha Bomb, (or ‘Country Killer’ as it was later termed) on what was China. The event ended the ten years of long war, as years before the 2012 London Olympics had sparked it.

An unconditional surrender of the Eastern Alliance immediately followed the option preferable to complete annihilation. Eventually the defeated nations joined sides with the Allied Countries creating the now fabled World Treaty, a treaty that had ensured that wars were a spectre of the past. Gradually over the ensuing years this had evolved into the world Maurice knew today, a world where borders and boundaries no longer existed. A one world state reigned over by the supreme leader and the elected council. Lord Earnest Smyth had held this position for the last five years, a great honour which very few could claim.

Under the current system Supreme Leaders were elected every ten years by democratic process, if the current leader hasn’t decided to step down. Of course there were no opposing parties to choose from; only the leader changed not the government itself. In Maurice’s opinion that choice was a small thing to relinquish, especially if it meant the current peace could endure.

Maurice tiredly watched Smyth gesticulate as he professed the values of the unified world, praising and quoting the world treaty to the letter. He wished he could change the channel, his mood seeking distraction of a much lighter fare. He glanced at the wall clock hopefully; surely the compulsory viewing was nearly up. Thankfully he wasn't wrong, as the set’s doleful chime indicated that other channels were now available. Quickly he switched to the music channels, locating the latest album from the semi synch band Primal High. Electro synth music never failed to relax him; the impossible melodies washing over him as he closed his eyes. A noise close by made him start, looking up he found Rachel’s alluring blue eyes hovering in front of his face.

It’s ready hun, I almost didn't want to wake you, you look so innocent when you’re sleeping. Maurice smiled.

What you trying to say girl, that I aren’t innocent all the time. He grinned cheekily, stroking her baby soft cheeks. Abruptly he grew serious, staring deep into her eyes. I love you Rachel Smith.

She giggled, "Gosh, you scared me then babe, I love you