Near Future , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers - Malcolm Lomas Andrew Hewett

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90 pages

English

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Description

The Near Future is a dystopian thriller set in a fictional United Kingdom where global warming has left the country ravaged. Migrants to this country are forced to live in squalor as the scapegoats of a corrupt media-savvy government. The protagonist is an unwilling government worker torn between these worlds.He navigates through heat waves, informants, poverty and squalid decadence. This is a country where families camp out on vanishing beaches and people seek solace in synthetic gurus. His only means of survival is to track down and eliminate an old friend. This former ally lives in a youthful freedom he can only dream of.

Sujets

Science fiction

Thriller

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	31 mars 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781528959087
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Near Future
Andrew Hewett Malcolm Lomas
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-03-31
The Near Future About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Part One Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Part Two Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39
About the Author
Andrew Hewett Malcolm Lomas was born in Doncaster in 1978. He studied Sociology at the University of Leicester and has been a successful teacher of Sociology since 2002. For a number of years, he was a successful athlete, but now enjoys walking, swimming and foreign travel. After spending over a decade in Manchester, he has now settled in Salisbury. The Near Future is Andrew’s first novel.
Dedication
For Mum and Dad
Copyright Information ©
Andrew Hewett Malcolm Lomas (2020)
The right of Andrew Hewett Malcolm Lomas to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528908917 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528908924 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781528959087 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Part One
Chapter 1
Here you are again staring at your whiskey-struck eyes with knowing distain. They’re a little yellow, not so you’d know once you’ve showered and got those neatly pressed clothes on, which you half remember preparing last night. You even manage a grin after applying some aftershave over two days’ worth of stubble. Obviously, this hangover won’t last long, and you know any inevitable dark mood will pass before you arrive. The start early, finish early rule you adhere to, usually works.
When you are ushered in at 8.30am he’s sat behind his desk, in his crisp navy suit, eyes down, roaming through paper with his distinctive red pen.
“Take a seat, Sergeant,” he instructs; the eyes still down.
“I hear you are currently observing one of the Government’s more colourful characters?” he continues.
“Yes Sir, three weeks now,” you reply noticing that the grey eyes are now up, keenly observing you directly. You have only been assigned to the department for a handful of months, but the look is familiar and you know how to respond.
“He’s very predictable at present sir. Just seems to be the drink and drugs at the moment. No signs of women, or men for that matter. The Administrator for Environmental Reproduction appears to have an addiction to high-level stimulants and is consuming up two bottles of 75% proof alcohol a day. Clearly if this continues, the Administrator’s ability to serve His Majesty’s reformed Government becomes hindered.” A fairly standard response you feel, as the office humidity causes a cold sweat to pour down your forehead.
“Well, that’s all very interesting, but I feel your abundant talents may be better served elsewhere. You will report to Immigration at 9.15.” You feign a perplexed frown, which has no impact.
“Well?” he enquires.
That’s all it takes and you don’t question these ambiguous orders because there isn’t any point. It doesn’t take much to fall. The destitute are there to be seen on the crammed trams you ride on daily, and you’re clever enough to know how unfair it is, but smart enough to realise not to think on it too much.
It’s a ten-minute wait before you’re ushered into the Minister for Immigration and Environment’s Office, by a slim awkward young man. Once in the room you immediately notice there are three people situated next to each other in an arch, like they’re preparing for an interview post they’ve already decided on.
On the left you notice a serious looking middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard. The man to the right you deduce to be a government recorder, in front of him is a wafer thin laptop, documenting your short walk to an adjacent seat, obviously intended for you.
Your attention is drawn towards the man in the centre, who is wearing what you immediately recognise as an expensive lightweight suit, neatly made to measure round his stocky frame. The multi coloured linen tie signifies to you that this man is under the media microscope, and a sickly smile confirm that this is the Department Minister. He makes a warm hand gesture for you to take a seat.
“Please take a seat, sorry for the delay, we’ve had numerous reports from Iceland indicating that sea levels will significantly rise over the next month. Well Sergeant, as you can imagine.”
After taking your seat, you cast your eye round the room, noticing the unnecessary size of the place. Behind all the obligatory government propaganda is a large Chesterfield sofa needlessly pushed towards the back wall, next to a cabinet containing an assortment of different alcohols.
You are offered a drink of whiskey, which despite the hour you accept, and having taken a small sip of the most expensive blend you’ve tasted in years, you allow the Minister’s Secretary, sitting on the left to begin.
“You are here because we believe you can neutralise a rather tricky situation for our Minister. It won’t strike you as news that the country is undergoing drastic but necessary changes; we can no longer ignore the obvious political and social problems that have come about since what we’ll call environmental developments. The public and more importantly the media can’t be oblivious when whole communities and towns are decimated.”
“What do you want?” You reply curtly. The bearded man looks slightly annoyed, but before he can issue a response, the Minister puts his hand onto his aid’s arm, ushering his silence and then takes over.
“What I want as a Minister and want my Government desires, is for you to observe a rather troublesome group of individuals. There has been, for a number of months a disgruntled group of militants disrupting the relative peace of our city. Government offices ransacked, trams derailed, government marketing defaced.”
“Where do I come into this?” You enquire somewhat more politely than your previous question.
“The explosion of the newly built capsule flats in the worker’s sector has meant this problem can’t be ignored by us or the media anymore. We would like you to find, observe and eliminate this problem before it gets out of hand.”
The Minister having noticed, he has your full attention, stops and then watches the filer place a closed document in your lap, which you open to see the picture of a face you recognise. You reach for your whiskey and drink the remaining contents, before looking up at the Minister.
“So we can assume that you are familiar with the subject of this enquiry?” The Minister asks, following a long pause. After nodding, you stare back coldly at all three men, waiting for the next question.
“The subject’s name, as you’re obviously aware is William Dudek, a third generation immigrant Pole. He is responsible or at least suspected of the recent destruction of four capsule apartments, violent civil unrest incidents and numerous digital acts of fraud, which can’t be calculated.”
“We estimate in the region of two million Euros,” interrupts the bearded man who has a distinctly intense look on his face. The Minister continues, “You are in an excellent position to find this man and his associates, and then obliterate this problem. Sergeant, our society is in a constant flux, we live on a balance between stability and chaos. This kind of behaviour will not be tolerated.”
“Why not get the police to deal with this? I’m a government official. This is not my jurisdiction.” You say in a jaded attempt to be diplomatic. The bearded man now leaps from his chair, like an attack dog.
“You’re not in a position to debate; you are also fortunate not to be in prison. The past can sometimes catch up with you Sergeant, very quickly. The unique talents, which you possess and old friendship with this man will be utilised to neutralise this situation, unless of course you wish to relinquish your duties,” he barks, whilst his face reddens. The Minister feigns a sympathetic look at you, and you nod back acknowledging your predicament. An aggressive response would be gratifying but not self-serving. They are obviously fully prepared to any negative response with a further counter threat. In light of this you remain silent and listen.
The Minister turns and looks awkwardly at his two assistants.
“I’d like a quiet word alone with the Sergeant, gentlemen please,” he sternly commands.
The recorder speedily closes his laptop and assembles his equipment, leaving the room hurriedly. The bearded man makes a more grandiose display of being disgruntled, but departs the room no less subserviently.
In a slow deliberate manner the Minister takes your glass and pours you both another large measure of whiskey. He then slides his chair closer to where you sit, undoing the top button of his pale blue linen shirt.
“I must apologise for Mr Poe’s behaviour, he’s an efficient but slightly blunt man.” You nod, knowing he wishes to continue.
“I wouldn’t want you to think we are threatening you into this assignment Sergeant. Your intimate knowledge of the subject simply makes you a suitable candidate. You do see don’t you?” You nod a second time, and attempt to loo