In the late 21st century, in an unstable world wracked by climate change, brilliant scientist Sean Freeman has the answer - longevity. He knows long life breeds responsibility, for each other and the world.
Working with genius physicist Jess, Sean is convinced he’s going to secure the future of humanity – and maybe find his soulmate in the process.
But there is more to this miracle science than he knows and is being allowed to know. Not least, there are others in the shadows who would see him fail, at any cost. When the answers come, and he learns of Earth’s true purpose, it will take him on an epic voyage of discovery where he will be faced with the ultimate ethical dilemma.
A sci-fi thriller that combines non-stop twists and action with deep questions of ethics and philosophy. With revelation after revelation, it leads to a jaw-dropping finale that will leave you speechless.
In the late 21st century, in an unstable world wracked by climate change, brilliant scientist Sean Freeman has the answer - longevity. He knows long life breeds responsibility, for each other and the world.
Working with genius physicist Jess, Sean is convinced he’s going to secure the future of humanity – and maybe find his soulmate in the process.
But there is more to this miracle science than he knows and is being allowed to know. Not least, there are others in the shadows who would see him fail, at any cost. When the answers come, and he learns of Earth’s true purpose, it will take him on an epic voyage of discovery where he will be faced with the ultimate ethical dilemma.
A sci-fi thriller that combines non-stop twists and action with deep questions of ethics and philosophy. With revelation after revelation, it leads to a jaw-dropping finale that will leave you speechless.
“The questions you have of this world will endure, your faith in the inhabitants will not,” says a voice out of nowhere, close enough only I could hear amidst the gaggle of noisy customers jostling in the haphazard queue. All pushing to be served by a solitary overworked teenager dashing about behind the bar.
“Sorry, are you talking to me?” I ask, turning around to see the person attached to the voice. His appearance snatches a double take from me: he is striking, with perfectly groomed snow-white hair, a pointed waxed moustache, a pristine designer three-piece suit and unnerving eyes, black within black.
He replies with a nod and subtle blink, and I go to ask him what he means, but it never reaches my lips. A shadow arrives next to me and as I look to the giant casting it, a hammer blow to my temple takes my vision and my head erupts in agony. The lights of the room dance and the world flips as the force of it bounces me into the surrounding crowd. Somehow I stay upright, clamping either side of my head in excruciating pain, it’s like someone’s driven a huge nail into my temple. I'm sure I can feel my head swell as the agony grows; like it’s about to burst. A second later a powerful hand grabs my shoulder from behind and spins me around, it's the giant. My face is only level with his chest as I look up and see his scarred and weathered face, just as he grabs the lapels of my jacket and hoists me into the air, before launching me backwards across the room. I'm airborne for the briefest of moments and then something whacks the back of my legs hard, glass smashes as I land flat on my back and my head flicks backwards violently, hitting the stone floor hard. Then, nothing.
The growing noise of an excited crowd pulls me back to the room; blackness steadily becomes a blur of shapes and colours that slowly resolve into the world around me. I can feel the weight of him across my chest and my chin, pinning me, I can't move to make out more. There's an overpowering stench of damp leather, tinged with mould and yesterday’s beer, invading my senses, smelling salts waking me from a nightmare. Except the nightmare’s real and returns with a vengeance. Struggling to breathe with the leather jacket smothering me, I give every ounce of my strength to force the full weight of him off me. My frantic wrestle for freedom forces him to one side and I seize the moment and roll away, desperately sucking in a lung full of air.
Fuelled with adrenalin I’m instantly on my feet. Walking backwards away from him, I scan the room as quickly as I can and spot the door. But he’s up and heading at me, his head dipped with intent, his eyes fixed on mine, unblinking, saliva dribbling across his chin. I notice how huge he is: well over six feet tall with an unshaved anvil face, his biceps like footballs bulging in his leather jacket.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he mutters with the certainty of experience, teeth clenched, snarling like a rabid dog.
The blood drains from my head and my hands go cold. I’m lost, this is all wrong; the bar is spinning around me and the crowd is staring, some of them shouting. At me, or him? I can’t tell, the chaos is overwhelming.
“STOP!” I yell, holding my flat palm toward him, bent over panting, still backing away as he accelerates towards me. “STOP, why are you doing this? I don’t understand, what have I done?”
My plea only enrages him further and he ducks his head lower, his pace turning into a run. Charging straight at me, he headbutts me in the chest like a raging bull, launching me backwards. Breath explodes from my mouth, my vision flares bright yellow and then goes altogether. I land on a nearby table and more pain erupts. My whole-body screams at me, electricity spiking into my temples, the pain exploding in my chest forcing my eyes wider than they’ve ever been. My vision returns but with crackling yellows and reds flashing wildly at the side. And… I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe at all, not a single pant, nothing. I go to suck in air, forcing it, nothing. He must have ruptured something, damaged me, fuck! I stare at the ceiling: is this it, is this how I die?
People are stood around me, upside down and leaning over, all looking down at me, pulling their drinks towards their chests protectively, their mouths moving, angry faces silently shouting. I am the spectacle they’ll be telling their friends about tomorrow. I flick my head from one person to the next. Their inverted faces make it hard to tell, but I don’t think they’re going to help; people don’t help people. Bizarrely the thing that I notice out of place is that they are all attentionally present – not one of them is distracted by an AIC. Which is unusual; I spend half my teaching life trying to distract people from their ever-present personal AI devices. Instead, there’s a single shared focus: me. The cacophony of noise suddenly grows as their voices return to them, only to go quiet a second later as they look up and back away, which must mean… I look down towards my legs dangling off the end of the table and he’s there, coming back at me, his menacing smile more confident than ever.
I’m on my elbows facing him, I still can’t breathe. I try to force air in – nothing. Push air out – nothing. I try to say something to him as he leans over me – nothing. You really can’t make a sound without air moving over your larynx.
He leans over me, hands outstretched to grab me. Instinctively I roll sideways, across the carnage of spilt beer and broken glass and off the table, only to land on the stone floor knees first. There should be pain, but my panic dominates. Kneeling in the detritus on the floor, I look up at him and raise my hands in surrender, before pointing to my neck, giving the “throat cut” symbol with my flat hand, realising as I do that this might not be the message to send. But it slows him; the menacing eyes open wider, and his eyebrows raise as he stops, towering over me.
Seeing my opportunity, I jump up, both legs in sync, garnering as much power as I can, launching my whole body upright like a jack-in-a-box. My eyes are fixed on his chin as I thrust my head forwards at the last minute before making contact. There’s an excruciating hammer blow to the top of my head; I don’t care. All I can think is: direct hit. A full body uppercut to his chin.
I lift my head to see him land flat on his back. Shit, he actually left the ground with both feet. I stare at him, trying to make sense of everything, still unable to breathe, and he starts to move.
“SEAN!” somebody shouts from across the room.
What? Quickly looking around, I notice a man frantically waving his arms above his head, staring at me from the other side of the pub. He sees he has my attention and waves me over. He mouths the word “quick” – he’s stood next to the door, which is exactly where I need to go.
I dash over, efficiently threading myself through the crowd of bystanders, knowing anvil face won’t be far behind. The crowd get the message and soon part, allowing me more speed as my mystery saviour opens the door and I run into the car park and into a sea of MyCars, all perfectly lined up in the well-lit lot.
My saviour follows right behind me and I see him tap his AIC and speak. I stare at him; I have no idea who he is. I don’t care.
I still can’t breathe.
“Do your best to stay calm Sean, it will help with the breathing. Car’s coming now,” he says, pointing.
I follow his finger and a silver Jaguar glides to a halt just behind me, out of place amidst the ubiquitous MyCars. How does he know my name?
“Jump in the back,” he says, just as the door to the bar slams open behind him.
Anvil face!
I need no encouragement; I leap into the car. He follows almost as quickly.
“Home,” he says to the car. The motor clicks and we’re away.
My eyes are fixed on anvil face as he races towards us. He has no chance and gives up as the car accelerates away.
Wide eyed and with growing terror, I turn to look at my saviour. I still can’t breathe or talk. I desperately mouth “help” and point at my neck, hoping he understands and can do something. Desperation is surely written across my face. I must be close to passing out, or worse. How long has it been since I drew breath? How long can a person go? I stare at him, hands shaking, but still focused.
“I know,” he says calmly. “Just try to relax. He’s only winded you, severely I grant you, but that’s all it is. It will pass. Sit back and relax.”
I don’t think he gets my reality, but lacking options I do as he suggests. I sit back, close my eyes and try to imagine the breath leaving my body. I crunch my stomach muscles a little, forcing slightly; there’s pain from the fight. But a small amount of air also escapes my mouth… I keep pushing, more comes. Now I suck; it’s like breathing through the smallest of straws but air is coming in. I keep going, in… and out… in... and out...
I’m not going to die.
“Who are you?” I croak as I open my eyes.
“Good, you’re breathing. How’s the rest of you?” he replies.
“What was all that? Did you see it, him? It was just… I don’t know, why...? What was that all about? Who was he? Did you see?”
“I just caught the end of it,” he replies. “I didn’t see how it started, but you gave a good show with that headbutt manoeuvre. Are you hurt?”
“Not sure,” I reply, scanning my body. “My stomach feels like I’ve done a million sit-ups and my knees are painful, but amazingly I think I’m alright. Soaked in beer but no permanent damage.”
“That’s great an—”
“But, who are you?” I interrupt. “Why did you help?”
“Well…” he replies and looks straight at me with a huge grin, his eyebrows pushing to the top of his forehead.
“Well…?” I repeat back, confusion growing.
“Don’t you recognise me?”
“Err… no.”
“You are Sean Freeman?” he asks. “Went to Bradshaw Primary School in Halifax?”
“Yes…” I reply, tilting my head sideways and squinting at him, and something twigs in my mind. He is familiar.
“Do you remember a friend there called Mike Swale?”
“What? Yes. No way, Mike Swale!” I squint again, staring at him, thoughtlessly scrutinising his face. “Mike?”
“Yep, that’s me,” he replies with a beaming smile, like we’ve just bumped into one another at a party.
Of course, there he is. I see him: my mystery saviour miraculously transforms into an old friend. We were in the same class but didn’t really hang out together. He was one of the posh kids, sophisticated, without a regional accent. He wasn’t a bully or anyone to stay away from and, now that I think about it, I remember he was one of those kids who you just knew would fare well in life, destined for medicine or law or to be a serial entrepreneur or in some top job. And here he is in his own self-driving car, well-groomed, with just the right mix of smart and casual; a pale blue designer shirt that matches his eyes, khaki loose-fit trousers and brown brogues. I can make out firm muscles beneath the shirt and his posture and physical size give him a presence, which, coupled with his well-groomed appearance, oozes confidence before he says a word.
I recall the skinny kid I used to know, skidding down an ice slide with me and the other boys, during the one and only snowy winter we had. Was it Mike who fell on the slide and chipped a tooth that day, which we all got in trouble for – resulting in us being paraded outside the headteacher’s office, where we were all given a thorough dressing down about the dangers of making an ice slide? After which we all ran straight back out and continued the fun before the sun broke up our game.
“Wow, what are the chances…?” I say, still revelling in the memories. “And thank God. Gavin never turned up, so I was on my own there. Some bloke started talking to me at the bar, not the big guy, an older man with a hipster moustache. Then out of nowhere a massive punch in the side of the head and I end up flying across the bar. The big guy, who was he?”
“No idea, but you were in a pickle, he was twice your size.”
“Well, thank you Mike. You really saved me there, thanks,” I say, letting out a long breath.
“That’s alright. You would have done the same.”
“It’s nice that you think t—”
My words are taken from me by an ear-shattering crash and severe jolt that sees me fly off my seat. I’m violently shoved to one side and a cocoon of white fabric appears from nowhere, smooth and solid, pinning me against the seat. I can’t move; a massive bang is quickly overtaken by a piercing screech and I feel the car tipping over sideways. My legs, the only part of me able to move, helplessly kick around wildly in the footwell of the car.
As the realisation of the crash hits me, the airbags soften and start to deflate, releasing me. But only for a moment as the car lurches forwards again and the headrest of the front seat comes straight at me.
“… Sean, SEAN!”
The world fizzes back into reality, dulled at first, like an old photo. The muffled noise grows, outlines of shapes appear and colours fill in what was dark and grey. Someone’s calling me?
“Sean, you’re back. You K?” asks a man peering into my eyes, his face so close I can smell his breath.
It’s… Mike, yes Mike. Car crash, we were in a car crash. But car crashes don’t happen, auto drive and radar don’t allow it. Except it did, didn’t it?
“What, what happened?” I ask, blinking Mike back into focus.
“You’re conscious,” replies Mike. “You had me worried for a minute. Can you move?”
“Think so,” I reply, lifting my arms and sitting up. “My face though, my nose.” As I touch it, a spike of pain spears into my forehead. “SHIT! That hurts, shit… Have I broken my nose?”
“Don’t know, but we need to get you to hospital, get you checked out. Best stay there for now, back in a mo,” he replies, tapping his earpiece AIC and getting out of the car.
I go to open my door, but it won’t budge, I push and pull getting nowhere, and finally give it a huge shove with my shoulder. It flies open, and I go with it, only just managing to grab the doorframe and prevent another face plant. Can this day get any worse? I clamber out and lean on the back of the car, not sure which parts of me are damaged and which bits still function. My whole body is aching, I need to sit down.
I look around to see we’re at the side of a main road, but it’s quiet; no cars passing by, grey fields of corn disappearing into darkness and the silhouettes of industrial buildings on the opposite side, all dark, all quiet. Even though Mike’s car has been thrown about, it sits neatly straddling the curb and the road. You’d be forgiven for thinking it was badly parked and in need of a paint job. I look around for the other car, but there isn’t one. And there’s no one else here – how long was I unconscious? Or did Mike’s car fail and crash itself. Can that happen?
Mike’s still talking and pacing up and down the pavement, leaving me to nurse my injuries. Another car heads our way; I step to the side so it can pass easily but it slows as it approaches. They must have realised something’s wrong. The rear window slides down as they near, so I give a smile and raise my hand.
I see the shadow of someone in the rear as they pull to a stop. He leans towards the window and the streetlights bring him to life. My head jerks backwards as I recognise him: it’s the guy from the bar, the one who was talking to me when the fight broke out. Definitely him, white hair and a hipster moustache; he’s in his seventies and neatly dressed in the same blue suit, a trendy hipster grandad.
“You were in the bar just now, weren’t you?” I say.
He doesn’t reply and slowly shifts his gaze from me to Mike’s car, to Mike then back to me. “Are you injured?” he asks.
“What? No, not really. But… who are you? Have you followed us?” I ask.
He ignores my questions and I follow his gaze as once again he looks from me to Mike on the pavement talking on his AIC.
The click of the car’s motor snaps my head back around to him just as the car starts to move away. His window now sliding up, I watch as they disappear into the distance.
“K,” says Mike as he walks around to my side of the car. “Long story short, no ambulance. Even though you were unconscious for a short time, you are up and walking so not a priority. Cutbacks eh? Anyway, I’ve ordered a MyCar. It tells me it will be fifteen minutes; we can head to the hospital ourselves and get you checked out. Alright?”
“Yeah, I guess. What about you, are you alright? Were you hurt at all? Did you see what happened even? There’s no other car. And…”
“Yes, the air bags save you, but you can’t see a thing. I’m guessing a hit and run, an uninsured driver perhaps? But the diagnostic on the car will be able to tell us later and the cameras will have got them at some point or other.”
“Yeah, good point,” I say. “You know, you seem remarkably calm about it all.”
“Well, I am perplexed. But we’re both fine and that’s the main thing.”
“I guess,” I say, nodding. “Did you see the other car, a minute ago, the one who pulled up?”
“I did, were they just seeing if we were alright?
“Err, yeah… I guess so. But it was the bloke from the bar, from earlier.”
“What?” replies Mike, shocked.
“No, not him. Not the anvil face thug. The chap I was talking to before the fight happened. No idea who he was. Kinda felt like he was following us though, weird – or I’m just paranoid.”
“That would be weird,” replies Mike. “Anyway, maybe we should sit.” I hear the concern in his voice. “The MyCar will be a little while and you could be more shaken up than you realise.”
He sits on a low wall at the side of the pavement. Dutifully I follow. It’s late but dry and too warm like always. With no traffic it’s actually quite peaceful on the outskirts of town, away from the bars and suburbs. As I sit quietly, I notice the tranquil surroundings and feel my body slump, relaxed enough now for the aches and pains to return.
“How come you were at a bar on your own anyway?” asks Mike.
“Oh, that. Yes. Bad day at work, colleague says let’s go for a drink, he doesn’t turn up and big guy beats me up for no reason whatsoever. All in all, shit day.”
“Yeah, that stinks. Will you be alright for work tomorrow?”
“It’ll be fine either way. I’m into a big chunk of analysis so home or the Uni is fine.”
“Got you. Analysis?” replies Mike.
“Yeah. I’m a researcher these days, solving the problems of the world and all that.”
“Interesting. What’s your field?”
“Biology,” I reply, not in the mood to go into detail.
“K… and?”
“What? Oh yeah… longevity. I’m exploring how we can increase longevity in humans, so we live longer. If we live longer, we’ll look after the planet and each other.”
“K… Just that then. I thought you were joking when you said you were solving the problems of the world.”
“I was. It’s gonna be a long journey and, like most research, probably not fully realised in my lifetime. But worthwhile; important. At least I think so.”
“I would agree old friend, impressive.”
“Thanks. Listen, do we need to go to hospital?” I ask.
“Your choice, but if you’ve had a head injury it’s best, I think.”
“Yeah,” I reply, knowing he’s right but just wanting to be home. “Just being beaten up it’s… I don’t know.”
“Yeah, then a car crash,” replies Mike. “Shit day, sorry Sean.”
“Yeah, but not your fault Mike, not your fault.”
In a world struggling with conflict and climate change, Dr. Sean Freeman believes there is only one solution: increase the life-span of humans, so that we would care more about what happens to our planet and be more motivated to work on the advancement of our species. The story opens with an unusual night out, as Sean is accidentally involved in a bar fight and unexpectedly reconnects with a long-lost classmate, Mike, who quietly re-enters Sean's life. The surprises for Sean are far from over, as he starts facing some potentially fatal difficulties in the clinical trials of his longevity studies. His research, and possibly his entire career, might be at a dead-end, until he crosses paths with Professor Jess Hart, a brilliant physicist whose field of study seemingly has nothing to do with his own.
As Jess and Sean try to figure out how and why they were nudged in each other's direction, they realize Sean's research into human longevity might just be more related to Jess' study of quantum entanglement than they thought. Together, they might hold the key to securing the future of humanity and changing the world forever. Meanwhile, the enigmatic Mike seems more interested in Sean's work than a casual acquaintance normally would be, and it seems like someone is trying to stop Jess and Sean's scientific breakthrough from happening.
Slowly, so it doesn't break Sean's fragile human mind, he realizes there is more to the nature of reality than even his scientific career has led him to believe, and there are forces beyond his imagination that are watching his every move and trying to manipulate where his research is going. This is where the twists keep happening, as Sean learns more about the place of humans in the grand scheme of things. The story introduces some very big and thought-provoking ideas, and explores profound themes, such as the responsibility of the scientist, identity, immortality, evolution, sacrifice for the greater good, and the ethical dilemma of saving one person you care about or countless unknown people.
Writing such a lengthy story from a single character's perspective can run the risk of becoming stale, but Sean's first-person narrative evolves as he learns more about himself and the nature of reality. He is flawed, but likeable, and it's impossible not to root for the way he cares about Jess, his research, his colleagues Michelle and Anthony, and the fate of humanity that has been hoisted on his shoulders. The story is very detailed, and the juxtaposition of the mundanity of Sean's life in the beginning with the revelations that follow later in the book really works to make the narrative relatable. The twist about who Mike is and where he comes from is especially jaw-dropping, and the ideas presented are ones that linger long after finishing the last page.