Hisako Onoda dreamed of a lake full of blood and a sky full of fire. She watched from the depths of space and saw a great lever strike the world; it rang false and shattered, disintegrating into all the separate states and creeds, beliefs and prejudices that had riven it over the years, blowing like seeds from a flower. She kept waking up, thinking she'd heard steps, or voices. Or maybe she only thought she kept waking up, she thought later. Blood and fire, the dreams were always there waiting for her when she drifted off again. When she did awake, properly, finally, the rain was gone, the first light of dawn was trying to burrow under the dark lid of the sky, the deck still trembled beneath her, the air smelled thick and the lake was full of blood. (Iain Banks, Canal Dreams)