Chapter 15

Donna could hear the rattling of the train wheels passing over the joins in the tracks. She opened her eyes and looked out of the window. It was dark outside. It took a minute for her to regain her bearings. She'd been travelling to a protest, but not at night. Will and Steph were still snoozing on the seat opposite and she could hear a few yawns coming from the other young passengers in the carriage as they came to. They must be in a tunnel.

She stared into the darkness as the orange glow of streetlights along residential roads began to appear. Then a dual carriageway came into view with a steadily moving line of bright car headlights drifting past. They weren't in a tunnel - night had fallen, so what had happened to the day? Donna's logical mind deduced that perhaps she had suffered a bout of amnesia and forgotten all about the protest while she was asleep on the journey coming home.

The train went over a bump in the track and Will awoke with a jerk. 'What's going on?' he spluttered, stirring Steph from her slumber next to him. Steph merely turned to face the window without opening her eyes and rested her head in the corner against a jumper she'd been snoozing on, hoping to get back to sleep. The announcement then came over the tannoy, 'We are now approaching Chatford East. Chatford East is the next station stop.'

'I dunno,' replied Donna lazily, 'We are coming home from the protest I guess.'

The train was certainly on its way back to Brenchley, but what were they doing east of Chatford city centre? And as Donna cast her mind back she couldn't remember anything after the suburbs of Chatford on the way to the protest. 'I think I may have had some kind of a stroke,' she ventured, 'I can't remember a thing.'

The sound of voices was beginning to rise throughout the carriage as its occupants woke up.

'Did the protest go well?' added Donna.

Will screwed up his face in deep thought before letting out a single word, 'Fascists!'

Steph opened her eyes, 'Can't you keep it down you two? I'm shattered.'

Donna leaned over and shook Steph by the knee, 'You've got to wake up, Steph. I think I may have had a stroke.'

'You haven't had a stroke,' Will chipped in, 'It's these flaming chips in our heads.'

'I'm too tired for politics, Will,' yawned Steph.

Donna looked puzzled, 'What are you saying? The chip made me forget the protest?'

'There was no protest,' asserted Will, 'Those pigs in government sent us all to sleep. Look around you. Everyone is waking up. One minute it was day, now it's night. It's obvious, Don.'

'How can they send us all to sleep?' asked Donna with a confused expression, 'Do you reckon they pumped gas into the carriage or something?'

'Wise up, Don,' said Will, 'It's the chips. Who knows what they can do with this technology? They are controlling us like robots. If they don't like what we're doing they can just shut us down for a bit.'

'Give it a rest, Will,' said Steph, suddenly finding some energy.

'How else would you explain it then?' Will fired back.

'Hang on a minute, let me think,' said Donna, stalling for time, 'So neither of you remember the protest?'

'There was no protest,' stabbed in Will. Steph just shook her head.

'But why choose us?' questioned Donna, 'There are protests going on all over the country.'

Will pulled his smartphone from his jacket pocket as the train pulled out of Chatford East Station, 'Let's see what the news says, shall we?'

Donna gazed out of the window as the buildings got larger and the lights got brighter as they neared the city centre again, this time from the opposite side.

'Ha! There it is in black and white: Government unleashes the Nightshade Project to prevent national unrest.' Will held up the screen to the two girls to show them the headline.

'The what project?' queried Stephanie.

'God knows!' said Will, 'That must be what they're calling this fascism.'

 

GOVERNMENT UNLEASHES THE NIGHTSHADE PROJECT TO PREVENT NATIONAL UNREST

Prime Minister Anthony Rayner announced today that the government has made use of technology in a one-off measure to prevent chaos in Britain's administrative centres. A nationwide protest was scheduled today at county halls across the country against the controversial policy of inserting silicon chips into the minds of eighteen-year-olds in the name of crime prevention.

The Prime Minister made the following statement: 'We felt that it was necessary to be upfront about the use of this technology so that the parents of those intending to attend protests would not be worried. We do possess technology that can show the whereabouts of those who have the chips, but we will only use this in situations where a breach of the peace risking imminent danger is likely.

'The technology known as the Nightshade Project simulates the effect that natural sleep hormones have on the brain, inducing a completely harmless state of rest. Your sons and daughters who were travelling to protests on public transport will be blissfully unaware of the passing of the day and will awaken naturally when the Nightshade Project is turned off at 8pm this evening. There is no cause for concern and the deployment of this measure was deemed necessary purely because the numbers intending to attend the protests were far in excess of what our police forces could manage.

'Those heading to the protests by car will of course remain conscious for safety reasons, but it is anticipated that this deployment of the technology on public transport will reduce numbers significantly so that the majority of the population can remain safe. We will also be providing an address for all those who have bought tickets to the administrative centres today to be refunded by the government so that nobody will be out of pocket. I hope this will clarify our paramount concern for the young people affected.'

Opposition leader Jeffrey Gainsborough vehemently attacked the government's activity saying, 'Have no doubts, we are living in Orwell's “1984.” The classic novel was set just a few decades too early. You can't simply send everybody to sleep just because they disagree with your policies. This is a gross breach of human rights which I intend to take to the international court. Opposition MPs and indeed many members of Anthony Rayner's own party were completely unaware that the microchipping technology had the capability to do this. I hope that these members of Parliament will join with me in opposing the Prime Minister's approach and we can restore our nation to a situation where the sanctity of the human mind is respected.'

 

After reading the article Will passed the phone first to Steph and then to Donna. The train had just left Chatford West and Donna stared longingly at the blackness of the sea which seemed like a surreal void behind the houses and the fun-fair which was dotted with red lights and closed for the night. The buildings gradually dwindled away and then the line left the coast behind as the trail of headlights on the main coast road became more distant.

And then, there was just darkness. Fields and trees were blanketed in the uniformity of night which could be viewed as both comforting or unsettling, depending on your persuasion. Every now and again there was the faint glimmer of a light at a farm or a dimly lit living room window, but houses were sparse as the train streaked its way towards the next little oasis of light at Leafy Street Station.

When Will's phone came around to her, Donna was reluctant to break away from her serene window-gazing, even though when the tunnels and trees returned she was essentially staring at nothing. The voices all around them were rising in tone as the young adults learned that they had effectively been robbed of a day. Exchanges peppered with expletives mingled throughout the carriage as the train plunged relentlessly onward into the dark forest around Thomford, with all the secrets that the tangled trees at night-time could hide, and then into the tunnel, where the occupants were shut away from the world outside, buried beneath the ground like moles in a tube while the world carried on above their heads.

The rushing of the tunnel walls brushing past the train ended abruptly as the journey continued.

'I'm just going to the loo,' announced Donna to her friends.

'Thanks for that,' said Will with a grin.

Walking against the direction of the train, Donna tried to keep her balance as the carriage rattled onward towards Littleville. She washed her hands thoroughly as though trying to cleanse herself of the events of the last twelve hours. The hum of the drier lowered in pitch as she pulled her hands away and pulled the door towards her, stumbling back out.

Donna let out a sudden gasp as standing in front of her was a strangely familiar presence. It was the grey-haired old man from her party, wearing the same wax jacket as before. 'Is this his uniform?' she thought to herself.

'What happened today is wrong,' said the old man gravely, 'It will be tempting to try harder to make the politicians change their minds, but it would still be wise to wait and see how things unfold first.'

Donna nodded thoughtfully before responding calmly, 'I will,' unsure whether she really meant it or if she had just said it to appease the old man who she found just a little bit scary.

'I'm glad you can be patient,' added the old man, 'You're doing the right thing. Just a little while longer and you'll see why this is important.' And with that he walked away up the carriage.

Donna hurried back to her seat and excitedly broke into Steph and Will's conversation, 'You'll never guess who I just saw, Steph?'

'I dunno, the Pope?' was the default sarcastic response, 'Or how about that comedian you like? What's his name?'

'No, it was that weird old man from my birthday party.' Stephanie looked puzzled. 'You know, the bloke in the wax jacket. He said we should to be patient with the chips. I don't think he supports the protest.'

'Be patient? You're having a laugh,' said Will indignantly, 'We can't give up on this. We've got to fight back even harder now.'

Donna agreed, 'We know it's wrong and deep down all those numpties who voted for it know it's wrong. They're just easily scared into supporting anything if they think it will stop crime. We need to educate them and get this lot out of government.'

Steph looked surprised, 'Since when did you become the political activist? Do you fancy Will or something?'

Will smiled as Donna scolded her friend, 'This is serious, Steph. Maybe this old man is a government spy or something, trying to get us to knuckle under. Will is right.'

'He hardly sounds like James Bond,' scoffed Stephanie.

'I've been thinking,' said Will, 'We fell asleep at about 10am this morning. We woke up at 8pm. Just how many times have we ridden up and down this line do you think? There must have been several changes of driver and where were the guards? Did no one think to wake us?'

'Obviously not, Sherlock,' jibed Steph.

'What I'm saying is that the railway staff must have been in on it. They must have been told to “leave them kids alone” by the government.'

Donna smiled at the Pink Floyd lyric Will had shoe-horned into the conversation. 'All in all you're just another brick in the wall,' she responded.

'Hark at you two,' laughed Steph, 'What do you listen to all that old stuff for?'

'Nah, they were clued up in those days,' Will retaliated, 'Your X Factor rubbish won't tell you nothing about this world. They're trying to stop you from thinking. “I love you, you love me, I hate you, you hate me, get up and dance, woo-hoo what a party” – that's about all they think we can cope with these days.'

'That old man's music hasn't taught you much about grammar clearly,' said Steph picking up on Will's double-negative, 'She's got a ticket to ride and she don't care? Don't you mean “she doesn't care,” Mr Lennon?'

'Hey, knock it off Steph, that's a classic,' defended Will, 'And since when did you become the grammar expert?'

Donna knew full well that Steph was just reciting what Donna had told her about the grammatical mistakes in popular songs, but she wasn't particularly fussed about her friend taking credit for this. 'At least we'll get refunds on our tickets,' she chipped in.

'Yeah, some silver lining,' added Will with a touch of sarcasm, 'We deserve a refund on our brains!'

Just then the tannoy kicked in again, 'The next station is Brenchley where this train will terminate. Brenchley is the next station stop.'

The three friends walked out of the station and the crowd of young people gradually dispersed into the night. The air was cool and the orange streetlamps lit the quiet suburban roads, as though keeping watch through the long empty hours of the night. Nothing had changed in Brenchley. People snoozed obliviously as the threesome walked down the straight avenue from the station, passing the semi-detached properties, each with the obligatory 'family car' parked on the drive. The town was just the same as when they'd left it, yet for everybody who'd been on that train the whole world had changed.