The End of Athens
by Anthony Karakai
Genre: Dystopian
Thriller/Urban Fantasy
ASIN: B00CLXM6WY
Number of pages:
320
Word Count: 70,000
Cover Artist:
Anthony Karakai
Book Description:
In the year 2091, humans have lost the
ability to dream. After decades of financial and social depression, dreams and
aspirations have become a recessive gene—an impossibility of the modern
mind.
Greece is one of the worst social and economic
disaster zones, and all hope of a better future has been lost. One young man,
Nikos, discovers that he is not like everybody else—there is something
different about him.
Believing that he
may be going crazy, he soon discovers that he is the only person in Greece who
has inherited the ability to dream. Time is running out as the government
continues its tirade of corruption and suppression against the people, and
Nikos must find a way to teach others how to dream so that once more society
can free itself from the shackles of mental slavery.
This book was really good. Starts off with a very intriguing
subject. Had me wondering with each turn of the page, what was going to happen
next. The author goes into great detail with his characters and makes it very
easy for you to imagine you are right there with them. Loved how they
interacted with one another throughout this story. This book was not an intense
book but it does keep you on the edge of your seat a few times. This book was a
very powerful tale and I really enjoyed the ending. I would recommend this book
to anyone that is into futuristic possibilities during their reading
adventures!
I give this book 4 stars!!
Chapter 1
I looked into the face of death, and took his mask
off. What was it that I was seeing? Stringent blue lights, creeping black
shadows, and an entity as tall as myself. This wasn’t evil personified, this
thing, this man, this sometimes boy, had a message. He mirrored my actions as I
leant against the dark bluestone walls, in what would’ve been an alley if it
were not for the enclosed, claustrophobic cube. His face was bare underneath
the flowing black hood. We stared at each other, somewhat intently but more so
with recognition. As he raised his right hand up towards my face, I found mine
momentarily doing the same. Just as we were about to touch, as our hands were
to feel the complexity of warm life and cold death, did this mirage disappear.
I find myself instantly in my bedroom, tired but
awake, starting another day off the back of what I suspect is the beginning of
the end.
As I make myself to work, I think constantly about
these apparitional mirages and what it is I’m experiencing. I have no idea, I
think I’m going crazy, and I wonder if I should tell somebody. This type of
behaviour isn’t normal, as far as normalcy is concerned. I pay the young girl
for my coffee- a long black, and saunter towards the entry of building Zero
before walking the staircase. The staircase is long, it’s difficult to walk but
I do this each morning under the misguided assumption that it will somehow keep
me fit. As far as I know, since a desk job was invented the human body periled
into a frivolous state of sugar, fat and general regression to what it was
designed for in all those history books. We live longer, but for what, I’m not
so sure.
After completing the ceremonious “hellos” and “good
mornings”, I sit down in what can only be described as a pod and turn on the
computer. The year is 2091, and I reside in Athens- the birthplace of
democracy, the cradle of free thought and the place on Earth where the
potential for civilisation to be civil all began. My name is Nikos, and I am 27
years old.
Contrary to belief all those decades ago, we are not
driving hybrid car-aeroplanes and teleporting ourselves across the planet.
Based on my grandfather’s journal, life is much the same but at a more
efficient pace. Technology is the way of the past, present and future, but to
say we have been taking quantum leaps is an unjustifiable hyperbolic lie.
Things have changed, but they always do. Change is the only constant across
time, so it should come as little surprise that the world we live in today is
something inconceivable to my grandfather.
My grandfather was an important man in his time, at
least according to me, but from what I read in history texts this was not so
apparent. He kept a journal of his life, of the events he witnessed and passed
it onto my father. My father passed it onto me, as I am interested in learning
about the man I never knew through the only means available. It can be strange
growing up with limited family, your whole life can seem like a mystery. So
many questions beg to be answered, some may even weep if it were possible, and
since the answers are devoid of a definitive solution, I find myself clinging
to this journal as though it were the bible. To me, it is the bible. It’s my
way of understanding one of many descendants who made my very existence
possible. I’m intrigued by who he was, what he saw but more importantly, what
he thought. These scriptures are a reflection of the times, which to me leave
more questions than answers in my quest to understanding who I am in the world.
My day begins like everybody else’s. I catch public
transport to work, I sit in a cubicle and for the better part of eight hours a
day, I stare at a computer screen and exercise my fingertips. This is about as
much exercise as anybody around here gets, and by the day’s end, we are exhausted.
My life’s input exists inside this hard drive; I chat to colleagues on here,
close business deals via a head set and generally have no need, nor desire, to
come face-to-face with anybody I deal with. Technology has excelled and made
our life simpler, faster, and more efficient. It has made business more
effective, and productivity optimised. Essentially, I am a contactless human
being inside a concrete sky rise who is paid to make certain people more money,
in exchange for less than I make them. That hardly seems fair, but I guess it’s
survival of the fittest in these tough times. The only real thing I have learnt
about business to date is, if you want to swim with the sharks you better be
ready to bite. It takes a certain individual to succeed at this level, and I
refuse to take kindly to some of their false exteriors. Behind the media hounds
and million-dollar smiles is a Great white shark in disguise. They know no
limits, and funnily enough I respect them for not giving a damn.
Athens is a beautiful place with a historic presence
throughout the ages. Thales of Miletus, Plato and Aristotle birthed a global
school of thought in my own home city. If together, these three men could
change the existence of life of Earth by simply thinking about it, then what
was I capable of? What was the coffee girl capable of aside from mixing hot
water with coffee beans? What was the man’s potential in the cubicle beside me,
after he kicked the drinking habit? I believe that we are stuck in an era
without purpose, a time capsule without significance and a period without
cause. We are stuck, clogs in the machine that we call “living in society”. But
this isn’t what I am concerned about, as much as my grandfather was. My main
cause of concern is my psyche and these visions that appear every time I fall
asleep. I don’t want to tell anyone for fear of being exiled, ridiculed or
locked up. My days become harder having to deal with this, and I sincerely
doubt anyone can truly understand what it is I’m going through.
I have a friend named David who I should probably
confide in, but I’m hesitant even against the greatest of confidence. We play
chess together on a fortnightly basis and drink tea. Our conversations are deep
and meaningful, and not without merit. We are each trying to find our place in
the world through a series of trial and error, but the more we try, the more
error comes our way. In terms of our occupations, we are brilliant at what we
do, but since when did that ever suffice for understanding life? There’s a reason
we are here, and I plan on getting to the bottom of it.
As I exit building Zero each night, I can’t help but
take note of the cold wind roaring through the city. These bright lights do
little to illuminate the heart when the freezing chill penetrates the chest.
It’s so cold nowadays, I’m surprised we don’t have the adequate clothing
required to sustain a comfortable state. I pace the busy streets as cars pass
by, as shadows canvas the city blocks and as music chases the direction of the
midnight run. The streets are black, the atmosphere hectic and all in all it’s
as chaotic out here as it is in my visions. I strangely feel a similar emotion
from the moment I awake from these parallel worlds to what it is I feel when
I’m walking the streets at night. The hottest day in the past forty years was
twenty degrees, if that tells you anything about the climate. The world is a
much colder place than it was during my grandfather’s time. It is darker, it is
more sinister. If there is hope for anything, it is for all but nothing. The
people do not smile, and strangers do not engage. At the bar, we drink in
virtual silence minus the occasional exception where two people actually can
strike up a worthwhile conversation. As professionals, we’re all exhausted and
alcohol provides a remedial nightcap before tomorrow begins. This is life as we
know it, devoid of all hopes, aspirations, and prayers for a better world.
Anthony Michael
Karakai was born in Melbourne, Australia, and is a dual citizen of Hungary.
Holding an International Business degree, he is also a qualified percussionist
and music producer, having studied music extensively since the age of seven.
Working in journalism, his work has been published in various magazines and
websites. With an insatiable appetite for travel and an eagerness to explore
off the beaten path, Karakai travels at every opportunity- his travels and
ongoing commitment to exploring the world are what inspires him to write.
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