Built upon an asteroid, these mighty habitation towers are the final stronghold of humanity in a star system ravaged by a long-ago war. Now, centuries after the apocalyptic conflict, the city thrives — a utopia for the rich who live at the top, built on the labours of the poor stuck below…

Joah was already relaxing in soothing bubbles when a mostly naked Heila slipped into the room and slid, mermaid-like, into the tub. If Joah had not been so worried about Zarshay, she would have had more time to appreciate that.
“You were right,” she told Heila, “this is very relax— ”
“Never mind that,” the other woman almost snapped at her. “Please tell me you do know you have been monitored since the whole ‘curse’ thing took off, and that someone bugged your apartment yesterday — and may have managed to get something in your clothing.”
Joah thought of the nice police officer and grimaced.
“I thought it might come to that before we were through. But how did you know?”
“How do you think? Zarshay told me, of course.”
Joah sat suddenly upright in the bath.
“Where is she? Is she all right? Why didn’t she tell me she was going to do something?”
“For goodness sake, sit down. I do not want an eyeful of Zarshay’s privilege, thank you very much.” Joah sank back and Heila waved a hand in mock relief as she went on talking. “I don’t know where she is, she said something about taking the opportunity to go visit her family. I am very sure she is all right and will be home sometime today or tomorrow. And she didn’t tell you because we all know you can’t act to save your life. And she didn’t tell Dog because he would have told you the moment you asked him.”
“What?”
The intense relief was shifting into anger. Heila gripped her wrist, hard.
“Now stop that. You were the one who told us all to remember this was not a game. We needed this to clinch our case.” She made an impatient huffing noise. “Besides, Zarshay insisted you be told first thing this morning. Can you imagine how horrible it has been for me to have to be up so early? I told her it would be so much better for you not to know and do a public appeal for her safe return. Tears and baggy eyes, and back shots of Zarshay looking cute and vulnerable.” She sighed and released Joah’s wrist to clasp her hands together under her chin and sigh wistfully. “It would have been such a perfect romantic scene.”

It was the following day Joah found the new paper bird pinned to the board in her booth, just like in the old days. With careful fingers she released it and cupped it in her hands as if it were a living thing. Then she reached out to re-pin it gently, flying with the rest. She was almost smiling as she sat down and started work. Trust and hope carried her through that day, and the next, and the next; she even weathered the suspicion, and the second police interview, without cracking, but it was hard to be alone with the mounting pressure of doubt and fear. Surprisingly, it was Heila’s unobtrusive support that pulled her through. The actress knew precisely when to be silent and when to put in an acidic comment that stiffened Joah’s spine.

She was working in the sound booth, adding some Zarshay words synthed by her modulator to go with the virtual Science Officer Xexe Chay. She didn’t hear any footsteps, but she knew without hearing. Maybe it was the slight trace of a scent or maybe it was something deeper and inexplicable. But she was already turning her chair and getting to her feet when Zarshay came into the booth.
For a moment her intense anger and anxiety reared up between them and Joah felt frozen to the spot. Then Zarshay closed all the distance that created the division and Joah’s arms opened by an instinct so much deeper than those emotions that they no longer mattered. Nothing did, except that they were there, together. They clung to each other for what seemed forever.
“I’m sorry,” Zarshay whispered “I had to wait for it to be safe. If I had even tried to contact you—”
With an effort of will Joah released her and stood back. She knuckled a wayward tear and wondered what had changed, what to say, but was saved as the studio door burst open.
“Did you get to hear the news?” Dog called out sounding excited.
Joah gripped Zarshay’s hand and the two turned to face him. “Hear what? I’ve been setting up here so not checked my feed in a while.”
“Oh hello Zarshay, glad you’re back. It’s all over the media that the last big business backer pulled out and the President’s office has said the project is being ‘postponed indefinitely’.”
Zarshay was grinning. “That’s political speak for ‘cancelled’, Dog.”
Heila’s sharp tapping footwear could be heard on the studio floor approaching the booth, just ahead of her voice.
“It’s the most dreadful news isn’t it, darlings?” she said as she joined them. “That stupid curse thing — and all those idiots believing it too. And of course, no one will back the project; who wants to have their brand linked with something everyone is calling unlucky?” Her expression was serene and smiling in direct contrast to the fretful sound of her voice. “But the good news is our ratings are rocketing with the free publicity. Starways Pathfinders is even getting viewers from the mainstream demographics now, and I have been asked to do a round of chat shows to talk about it.”
Dog made a sound suspiciously like a growl.
“Bastards just want to watch to see one of us have something bad happen.”
“Don’t be silly,” Heila said, taking his arm almost possessively. “We are not a live show.”
“You try telling them that.”
“Not our problem, darling. Besides, now Zarshay is back I think the curse may have just run its course,” Heila said, drawing him away towards the studio door. “She is our lucky charm. But what is our problem is all this publicity. You need to come with me so I can talk you through what you and I will be doing for the next few weeks. We have chat show couches to decorate, darling.”
She paused on the threshold to glance back and drop a conspiratorial wink at Joah and Zarshay, before herding Dog through the door and letting it close behind her, leaving them alone together.

Star Dust by E.M. Swift-Hook, originally appeared in The Last City, a shared-universe anthology. This version is the ‘Author’s Cut’ and differs, very slightly, from that original.

Next week we start a new Sunday Serial and introduce the adventures of Piglock Homes and his sidekick Doctor Bearson in ‘The Affair of the Dartymuir Dog‘.

Don’t buy flowers
Or paper vows
Don’t buy chocolate kisses
We’ve had too many hours
Together now
For foolishness like this is
We don’t need a day
To be set aside
On which love is renewed
We don’t need to play
The groom and the bride
To remember the thing that is true
Yours is the hand
Yours is the mind
From which I will never part
My wedding band
Is the lasting kind
And so is the love in my heart

©️jj 2021

Lupercalia MDCCLXXVIII Anno Diocletiani

It was Lupercalia, the day when everyone celebrated romance – and it’s close friend fertility. The shops were full of silly cards and chocolate wolves, and the flower sellers all had sudden hikes in their prices. Dai Llewellyn sat opposite his diminutive wife at the breakfast table and inwardly debated whether she had truly forgotten the date, or she was playing a deep game of her own. Whichever way Julia went on this one, he was convinced he had the situation covered and he carefully camouflaged an inner smile.
He finished his porridge and leaned over to kiss Julia’s pink mouth. She responded with her usual flattering ardour and he put up a hand to ruffle her dark curls.
“Work calls. I won’t be back until supper time. Is there anything you want from Viriconium?”
“I don’t think so. See you later.”
He kissed her again and went out to where his personal all-wheel awaited him. To his surprise, Julia’s bodyguard, Edbert, was leaning casually against the vehicle. The great wolfhounds Canis and Lupo stood with him, waiting for their morning walk.
“You haven’t forgotten what day it is, I hope.”
“No. You’re all right. I have it covered.”
The huge northerner mimed mopping his brow and sloped off. Dai got into the driving seat and allowed himself a smug grin.

He pulled up outside Bryn’s square stone-walled house and tooted cheerily. His friend and second-in-command ambled out with a grin from ear to ear, greying hair tied back and a doorstep of bread and honey in one hand. He climbed aboard and favoured Dai with a straight look.
“I hope you have remembered what day it is?”
“Why does everybody think I need reminding of an over-commercialised randomly-chosen date? Surely my wife knows I love her without some sort of overpriced gift?”
Bryn eyed him narrowly.
“I hope for your sake you’re winding me up, Bard.”
“I am. Here. Look.”
Dai took a red velvet pouch out of his tunic pocket and spilled the contents onto the palm of his hand. Bryn barely looked, instead he stuck his head out of the vehicle window and whistled shrilly. His wife opened the front door and trotted out.
“Show it to Gwen. I was told if it was jewellery she needed to make sure you got it right.”
Dai laughed and leaned out to display a silver chain bracelet from which there hung three charms.
“See,” he said, “there’s a golden ball for when I asked her to come and be my love, the disk has the date of our marriage, and there’s a wolf for Lupercalia. I can add more charms as the years go by.”
“That’s perfect,” Gwen stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before returning to her house.
Dai put the bracelet back in its pouch and the pouch in his pocket before starting the engine and engaging drive.

They were about halfway to Viriconium when both men’s wristphones bleeped simultaneously. Bryn answered.
“SI Cartivel. What’s the panic?”
“Missing child. Cadell Glaw. The kid’s up in the hills somewhere. Parents are sheep farmers and he must have slipped out during the night. He’s three years old and the temperature is well below freezing.”
“You don’t need to ask me, man, get the tracker dogs out!”
“No can do. They are on their way back from Eboracum where there was that big jailbreak. Won’t be here until tomorrow morning. We can’t wait that long.”
“No. We can’t.” Bryn looked at Dai questioningly.
“Alright. Get the address and then call Edbert. Canis and Lupo would appear to be our only chance. Julia will lend them gladly in these circumstances.”

Some two hours later, and it was perishingly cold out on the hill. The farming couple were small dark-haired folk, who quickly understood what Dai had in mind. The man shut his own dogs in the barn and his wife went for a favourite toy to give Canis and Lupo the child’s scent.
“We tried our sheepdogs,” the man said quietly, “but they couldn’t grasp what we wanted.”
“I don’t suppose they could, but these boys are trained to seek.”
Edbert was bundled up, looking for all the world to Dai’s eyes like a multicoloured version of one of the bears that hunted his native forests. Clad in a thick plaid winter coat, with a fur hood pulled close over his head, Edbert seemed oblivious to the cold as he put long leather leashes on the wolfhounds. When they had sniffed the stuffed sheep he snapped his fingers.
“Seek,” he said firmly. “Seek.”
The dogs cast about the farmyard quartering the ground with care, but for a tense few minutes, they could find nothing. Then Lupo’s tail went up and he gave an excited whimper. Seconds later Canis caught the same scent. Then they were off, all but dragging Edbert in their wake. Dai and Bryn got in the all-wheel and followed, leaving the farmer and his wife to wait and hope.

It was an uphill trek, and even Edbert’s formidable fitness was being tried by the rough terrain. After nearly three quarters of an hour of sinew-stretching running and careful driving,  Dai was about to call a rest halt when the dogs lost the scent in the bottom of a rocky valley. Bryn looked stricken, but Dai had more faith in the dogs who cast carefully about the scree-covered valley bottom before drawing a blank. The dogs whined and Edbert encouraged them up to the slope to where they obediently ran around seeking the elusive trail. Dai was beginning to think his faith in the hounds might have been misplaced when Canis lifted his head and gave an excited whine.
“They’ve only found it,” Bryn whispered, “they’ve only gone and found it”.
Before Dai could think of a suitable response the dogs and Edbert had breasted the rise and the hunt was on again.

They seemed to have reached the apex of the hills and the trail led across the tops now where the wind whistled unforgivingly around the stunted trees. Bryn looked increasingly grim, and Dai himself wondered how a small child dressed only in his nightshirt and dressing gown would cope with such cold or indeed, could have travelled so far on his own. Before his imagination could go any further the dogs stopped again, but this time they stood stock still pointing, with their tongues lolling and their eyes sparkling. Edbert beckoned, and Dai stopped the all-wheeler. He and Bryn jumped down.

Once they were out, it was obvious why Edbert wouldn’t take Canis and Lupo any closer. The small sleeping figure was curled up between the woolly bodies of two sheep, with his booted feet sticking out, and a lamb clutched to his chest. Bryn looked at Dai and his eyes were suspiciously bright.
“I really thought we might be looking for a body,” he said.
“Me too,” Edbert admitted in his slow, deep voice.
Dai didn’t waste time talking, he crossed to the sleeping child and put a gentle hand on the head of rough, dark curls.
“Cadell,” he said quietly, “time to go home”.
The little boy sat up and studied Dai through round black eyes.
“Ewythr,” he said and held up his arms.

It was hours later when the medicus had examined Cadell and declared him none the worse for his ordeal, and Edbert and the dogs had made their own way home, that Dai and Bryn climbed back into their transport.
“No point in heading for Viriconium, now,” Dai said genially. “We may as well knock off a bit early and go home to our wives.”
He put his hand into the pocket where his Lupercalia gift for Julia lay, only to find the pocket empty. For a moment the cold of the mountains reached in to touch his soul. He searched with increasing desperation, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Bryn,” he said in a tense thread of a voice. “I’ve lost Julia’s present. It must have fallen out of my pocket somewhere.”
Bryn smiled wryly.
“It did, Bard. Out on the hill. When you bent to pick up young Cadell.”
“What? Did you pick it up?”
“No. I didn’t even see it fall…”
Dai was sure he looked as puzzled and irritated as he felt. “What are you telling me you spado? Is it still up there on the hillside?”
“No.” Bryn put a hand in his own pocket and grinned. “It’s here. Lupo must have seen you drop it and he retrieved. He fetched it to Edbert, who gave it to me because you were busy.”
Dai took the pouch and dusted it off with a trembling hand.
“I owe that dog a great big bone.”

Glossary of Non-English Terms
Please note these are not always accurate translations, they are how these terms are used in Dai and Julia’s world.
Eboracum – we would call it York.
Ewythr – uncle
Lupercalia – once celebrated with raucous rabbles running through the street, by Dai and Julia’s day it is much more like our own Valentine’s Day.
Spado – literally ‘eunuch’, metaphorically ‘stupid fool’.
Viriconium – we would call it Wroxeter.

You can collect the Dai and Julia Mysteries as individual novellas or snag The First Dai and Julia Omnibus and The Second Dai and Julia Omnibus by E.M. Swift-Hook and Jane Jago.

Will I see next winter
Next winter, or this spring?
Shall I walk amongst the flowers
That sheltered summer brings?
Will I watch the harvest,
Or e’en the wheat turn gold?
Or will I fade and melt away
As winter’s snow grows old?

Will I wake tomorrow
To find another day?
Will I rise and go and do
The ordinary way?
Shall I see the sun again
After a normal night?
Or will the dark embrace too close
And take me from all sight?

I want to see this winter
Turn once again to spring,
To walk amongst the fields of flowers
As summer’s coming in.
I want to wake tomorrow
To an ordinary day
But I grow old and surely know
I soon must go away.

E.M. Swift-Hook

The Working Title crew bring you the exclusive opportunity to enjoy again the mysteriously enigmatic Madam Pendulica…

Aries

The cuddly lambs of the zodiac. Scratch an Arian between the ears and gambol about in the grass with them and you will have a lover for on whom you can depend.

Never show an Aries any harsh behaviour. They will run away.

Taurus

The laziest of lovers a Taurus will always be torn between making love and having a nice rest. Be gentle in your expectations and a Tauren will be faithful for life.

Never get between a Taurus and a bed, you will be crushed.

Gemini 

This sign never knows what it wants in a relationship. One face is absorbed in the relationship of the moment while the other is looking about for something new. Unsettling.

Never leave your Gemini lover alone with your best friend.

Cancer

Cancerians have a propensity towards the less gentle pleasures of the bedroom and are prone to pinching. Keep the upper hand and your love life will never be boring.

Never allow a Cancerian anything sharp.

Leo

The lion likes to roar and loves to be admired, but is mostly only interested in his or her own gratification. Purr a bit and they will know how to treat you.

Never have a mirror in the bedroom with a Leo or you won’t stop them admiring themselves for long enough to enjoy any physical closeness.

Virgo

The conundrum of the zodiac. Virgo lovers pretend disinterest and even dislike although in truth they are virtually insatiable. Keep fit if you want to stay in a relationship with a Virgo.

Never believe a Virgo headache, it’s just a ploy to make you work harder at convincing them.

Libra

While your Libra lover is weighing the consequences of each and every action and embrace, you will be able to get in plenty of nice naps. If you are not bothered by speed or continuity a Libra will get there in the end.

Never offer a Libra any choices or you will lose the will to live while they consider.

Scorpio

If you want affection avoid Scorpios like the plague. Ditto if you want fidelity or kindliness. However, if you want your bottom spanked… Experimentation is meat and drink to Scorpios so expect the unexpected.

Never let your Scorpio handcuff you to the bed. They may just find it amusing to leave you there.

Sagittarius 

The lover with the truest aim. Sagittarians are true bedroom athletes and satisfaction is guaranteed. Enjoy.

Never expect a good night’s sleep 

Aquarius 

The workaholics of the zodiac. Love is just another burden to this lot. But if you can wrest the water pot away from them they make charming lovers.

Never allow an Aquarius to bring their work into the bedroom.

Pisces

Cheerfully amoral, Pisceans are extremely able lovers and very good company. Open a bottle of something expensive and prepare to enjoy the ride.

Never let a Pisces see you care. It frightens them off. 

Madame Pendulica predicts she will return…

The blobs sang, though it got on their nerves. The humans moved knobs and made what they laughingly called ‘tunes’, although most were, at best, uninspired.

At worst, the blobs hurt their own ears as they strained and squealed, and burped and groaned to make the awful noises their masters demanded.

It was awful. Demeaning, disturbing, disgusting, and it made them dreadfully unhappy.

However, they carried on.

Until.

Then one man went too far, tuning the bass to high c and the tenors to somewhere approaching a faraway thunderstorm.

When the blobs sucked off his head, the silence was bliss…

©️jj 2021

The railroad formed the first leg of the great trek to the rich lands beyond the desert, and it was rumoured that, long ago, the tracks ran from coast to coast. Nowadays, however, the railroad came to an abrupt end in a place of cattle yards, whorehouses, and bars. Hard-eyed women, and conscienceless men, preyed on the stream of humanity that poured out of the cross-continental trains as they puffed and wheezed to a halt alongside the ramshackle platform.
A dispirited-looking Church Army Band played hymns and waved collecting tins, more in hope than expectation. Behind them, a twice life size head of General Stonejaw Johnson, with his piercing eyes and pointing finger, adjured ‘upstanding young men’ and ‘modest females’ to join the Army in its fight against Shaitan and all his works. Which might have been ironic if any of the denizens of Trail End were of a mind to enjoy irony.
The Friday train came all the away from south-eastern ‘civilisation’, and its passengers had endured the swaying, clanking ride for the best part of ten days. Those who were in the first half dozen carriages fared better than their less affluent cousins in the rest of the train – whose accommodation more resembled cattle trucks than anything else.
When the train shuddered to a halt, the doors of the rear carriages burst open and a stream of humanity walked, crawled, or fell into the merciless light of the midday sun. They were converged upon by the whoremasters, slave drivers, and purveyors of dubious modes of transport who found it worth their while to endure the discomfort of a rail-end town in the name of profit.
The unsatisfactory daughters, disappointing sons, and con artists just ahead of the law, who occupied the front carriages exited the train in a rather more leisurely fashion, and most were met by family members, pre-appointed guides, or the representatives of the wagon masters retained to carry them west. There was a good deal of hand shaking and back slapping at this end of the platform, and while the sharks of every kidney circled each other a figure slipped quietly out of the train on the opposite side.
It was a slight scarlet-haired woman, dressed in functional leather boots and a khaki frock coat. She jumped lightly to the ground and reached back inside for a sturdy leather back pack. Adjusting the straps of the pack she pulled a pair of smoked goggles over her eyes and walked purposefully away from the crowds.
She crossed the goods yard and squatted down in the shadow of a ramshackle warehouse. Pulling the hood of her coat up to cover her flaming red hair she composed herself to wait. In time, the train was pulled away from the platform while its engine was laboriously turned around on an iron turntable powered by indentured labourers – humans being cheaper and more expendable than horses.
The woman sat, barely breathing and becoming less and less visible as the hours crawled past.  As far as she was able to ascertain only one person noticed her: a tall muscular stevedore with brown skin and eyes the colour of the desert sky. He nodded just once, before dropping an eyelid in a swift wink. She wondered if he might be her contact, but as thinking about it required more effort than she was prepared to expend with a long night ahead of her, she simply withdrew her mind from the surrounding area and sat motionless.

You can keep reading The Redhead, the Rogue and the Railroad by Jane Jago for only 0.99 between 11 and 15 February. Immerse yourself in a Wild West that never was…

Writing inspired by the art of Ian Bristow

Kanu lay down in the sacred place in the Dreaming Room and closed his eyes. The rolling chants of the priests in the god’s sanctuary reached in through the doorway lifting his inner self free.
Then he was standing on the shore beneath a dark star-filled sky on the shores of a blood-red sea.
“Look!”
The voice was that of the High Priest and yet also that of the god. Kanu looked into the water and saw his reflection. Talons. Wings. Horns. A towering body with primal strength.
It was true.
The prophecy was true.
He was indeed the Destroyer.

E.M. Swift-Hook

Ian is an awesome artist and cover designer, you can find his work at Bristow Design or watch him in action creating this piece on ART with IAN

In Viriconium there was something of a surprise awaiting them. They arrived at the barracks where they were to sleep overnight, only to find the city abuzz with gossip. Lucius Ambrosius Caudinus had petitioned Rome and obtained a conubium, which enabled him to marry his British mistress.
“Is that who I think it is?”
Dai shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. If she hasn’t fallen out with him since my mother last phoned. She’s perfectly capable. Water is too wet for my dear sister.” He stopped speaking and his handsome face twisted wryly. “I wonder if it is because she is now acceptable as the sister of a full Citizen? Would figure,” he added, now sounding angry, “not good enough on her own merits, but soon as she is related to someone his precious Empire has named a ‘hero’ she suddenly becomes ‘marriage material’ instead of ‘bed-warmer’.He shook his head and made to turn away from Julia. She grabbed him by the sleeve.
“Stay right where you are, and listen to me, spado. A conubium is a very difficult and expensive document to procure, it is only granted in very special circumstances and will have taken at least a half year. Now. Will you please stop acting like this.”
“Like what?”
Julia attempted to shake him and finding him immovable kicked him sharply on one shin.
“Like a bloody prejudiced cunnus who can’t see any good in anybody or anything Roman. I’m a Roman in case it has escaped your notice and your unbending attitude is like scraping my nerves with a blunt knife.”
She turned her back so he shouldn’t see how close to tears she was, but she heard his breath catch and he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Oh Julia, I’m so sorry.”
She spun around to face him knuckling her eyes like a hurt child.
“So you should be. Now go away before I say something regrettable.”
He didn’t move so she turned on her own heel, but he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, just holding her gently. When she was quiet he loosened his hold.
“I truly am sorry, love. I know I need to start thinking more about my prejudices. And I specially need to be aware of how my saying things about Rome affects you.”
“If you could. It would help. I’m already in the unenviable position of a plain woman who loves a handsome man. Please don’t heap coals of racial disdain on my head as well.” Then she relented and smiled up at him. “Just remember that I love you, so you can hurt me in ways nobody has ever been able to hurt me before.”

From Dying for a Poppy by E.M. Swift-Hook and Jane Jago

Tammi hated Zoom meetings, and how her colleagues sneered at her humble home. But she squared her shoulders and survived the winter.

When spring came, a skinny geek arrived with a laptop. She gave him a cup of tea and  chocolate chip cookie

“This one has smellivision,” he whispered, “but I ain’t supposed to tell you.”

Tammi’s house smelled sweetly of lavender and home baking.  The chief among her tormentors, however, was a less particular housekeeper and her high-rise apartment smelled of old ashtrays and feet. 

Tammi said nothing, simply watching as the pack turned on its former alpha.

©️jj 2021