Monstrocities

By Ethan Somerville

From the desert wastelands of Erda rises the ancient city of Monstrocity. Steel and glass towers soar above a tangled mess of railways and tunnels. Above is a paradise for the rich and successful, while below, in the stinking depths, the poor labour ceaselessly to keep from starving.

In the misty chasms of Down Below, one child looks up and for a brief moment catches a glimpse of blue sky. The boy, Kinsey, realises that all he has to do is climb.

He is never seen again.

Teenagers Tourmaline and Tyler reach out to disgraced weapons designer Dr Margot Mossberg for help. But then the doctor’s latest experiment is stolen, and the three must embark on a harrowing journey through the labyrinthine alleys of Down Below, into the lairs of mad and exiled scientists.

While some of these scientists are benevolent, others are downright evil and plotting to dominate the entire city!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Storm Publishing
• Release date: May 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463196533

Ethan Somerville

Ethan Somerville is a prolific Australian author with over 20 books published, and many more to come. These novels cover many different genres, including romance, historical, children's and young adult fiction. However Ethan's favourite genres have always been science fiction and fantasy. Ethan has also collaborated with other Australian authors and artists, including Max Kenny, Emma Daniels, Anthony Newton, Colin Forest, Tanya Nicholls and Carter Rydyr.

Book preview

Monstrocities

By

Ethan Somerville

Copyright © Ethan Somerville 2019

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PUBLISHED BY:

Storm Publishing on Smashwords

Monstrocities

Copyright © 2019 by Ethan Somerville

www.stormpublishing.net

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Prologue

Kinsey struggled up the steep, iron maintenance stairs, lungs bursting, thighs aching from effort. There was a horrible metallic taste in his mouth. He had no idea how many steps he had taken or even flights he had climbed since starting his ascent. He had tried to count for posterity’s sake, but quickly lost track. He had never really mastered his numbers beyond a hundred, anyway. Not like his best friends Tourmaline and Tyler. They were really smart. They had tried to talk him out of his mission, but he had realised, long ago, that this was the only way he would ever get to see it.

And now, when he looked up, he finally could see it, a thin line of blue above. It was so bright! Brighter than any illumination provided by the dim, erratic lamps of Down Below. He was starting to rise out of the ever-present layer of steam and heat and smog that had shrouded his world since … ever. For a moment all he could do was stop and stare. The air was cooler than he had ever experienced, and he started to shiver in his thin, ragged shirt. He couldn’t afford to stop for too long though, or he might never get started again. This far up there was nowhere to rest.

He had to reach that thin blue line. He had to stand in the sunshine.

The stairs wrapped around an elevator shaft, but it didn’t actually commence until Level 3. When Kinsey finally reached the iron box, he heaved a huge sigh of relief. Now he could ascend the rest of the way in relative comfort, able to concentrate on all the wondrous sights unfolding around him. He gripped the elevator gates to pull them open, but they refused to budge. He shook them, thinking they were stuck, but then he noticed the keyhole. They were locked! How, by Great Gods of Science, did he get a key?

When he examined the keyhole, his stomach sank in dismay. It wasn’t meant for a key after all, but a credit stick.

Kinsey was a homeless waif from Down Below. He certainly didn’t own one of those. So, with a huge sigh, he straightened up. It looked like he would have to do this the old-fashioned way. Squaring his narrow shoulders, he resumed his labour up the steep, rickety stairs that continued to wind around the shaft. His muscles resumed their screams of protest, but he forced himself on. He was young and fast – he could make it the entire way. He had run every day of his life. He had dodged grabbing hands, hungry animals, and was often the first to catch a delicious morsel falling all the way down from Up Above. He prided himself on being faster and more agile than his friends.

Soon, the elevator he had tried to take rattled past, ascending to some lofty heights still way above. He could see the shapes of people within, but the contraption moved too quickly for him to make out details.

Around him trains whined and rattled along on their suspended rails, whistles sounding, brakes screeching. He had never been on one – they cost money to ride and he didn’t have any. But he wondered what it would be like to be one of the fancily-dressed individuals he could see through those narrow glass windows with their lacy curtains. He had never seen such tall, elegant hats or quite so many bows and feathers. Not even the slumming aristocrats who ventured into Down Below for various lurid reasons dressed like that.

Eventually Kinsey climbed above the various layers of suspended railways, and the grim, dark buildings surrounding him parted to reveal more of that brilliant sky. Now above the fog and stench of Down Below it was so clear and blue! He had never seen such an intense colour. In Down Below everything was an insipid shade of grey. Skin, hair, clothing, even food. Even those who were a little better off, able to wash themselves and their clothes semi-regularly, were pale and colourless.

Kinsey himself was grey. His hair may have been brown at one stage, but now it was the same dusty shade as his skin and dangled in dreadlocks over his shoulders. His clothing, hanging on his scrawny, underfed form like a sack, was a similar faded shade.

He continued to put one bare foot in front of the other. Eventually he could make out the fantastic, steel and glass structures with their many sprouting towers. They soared high above the ground, a network of deceptively flimsy skyways connecting them so none of their inhabitants ever needed to set foot upon the ground. He was almost there! He could see the hanging gardens, suspended between the sky-scrapers and growing up the various sun-facing sides of these buildings. Here many of the delicacies for Monstrocity were grown.

He knew about these because occasionally they fell from Up Above, tumbling many, many metres to the filthy cobbles of Down Below. Usually they splattered on the hard stones, but there was always a mad scramble for the remains. Several times now Kinsey had managed to reach the squashed fruit first, and gleefully stuff the morsels into his mouth. The fruit may have been soggy, but it was always the most delicious thing he had ever tasted! So sweet and juicy, so unlike the dull mushroom bread he normally ate.

The hanging gardens were even more beautiful than he could have imagined! Veritable jungles of greenery and multi-coloured flowers draped from the platforms and hundreds of interconnecting balconies, providing homes for lots of bugs, lizards and birds. Again he found himself stopping so he could gape in awe.

And the sunshine! It was so bright he could only see if he squinted and looked through his lashes. He could finally feel its warmth on his skin, so strong and sharp, different from the dull, sweaty heat that permeated Down Below. When he looked down at his arm, he realised that his flesh wasn’t actually grey after all, but a much warmer pink.

But he couldn’t look directly at the sun itself. It was too huge and brilliant. He turned, gazing through the various support-struts that still partially blocked his view, and noticed the curve of something large and round, glittering with scales.

What was it? An enormous animal? He had some experience with wild creatures; Down Below crawled with rats, feral cats, snakes, lizards and tumorous, mutant things that had no name. There were giant cockroaches, flies, mosquitos, spiders and weird fish swimming in the sewers. Occasionally pigeons and crows came down to see what tasty morsels they could peck up before returning to their lofty perches.

If people were fast they could catch the pigeons and supplement their diets with delicious meat. But the crows always managed to fly out of reach, and sometimes delivered a nasty jab in revenge.

No, Kinsey realised the thing wasn’t something alive, but rather a vessel. An … airship. Yes, it had to be an airship. Dr Mossberg had spoken of airships, but he’d always imagined them to look like the filthy, flat-bottomed barges used by the sewer punt-men. He had never wondered what carried them aloft in the sky.

He had never thought they would look like the magnificent craft that was now floating across his field of view. It was huge, its strange scales shining like jewels in the sunlight. Long ribbed fins at its sides kept it stable, and a majestic rudder soared from the back like a sail. There were some letters on the side, and although he knew how to read a few words, they took him some effort to make out. They were all fancy and curly.

B-Byron, he managed before the thing disappeared completely.

This was truly paradise. How could it exist up here while Down Below people lived in such desperate squalor? Didn’t anyone up here know? Surely if they did, they would do something about their plight?

Kinsey had to see more. He climbed until he reached the very top of the elevator shaft. But up ahead, just before the start of the first of the skyways with their fancy scroll-worked railings, stood some sort of checkpoint. He could see two glass boxes with tall figures standing inside. Men in peaked caps and long coats. They had big guns slung over their shoulders. The only way to go appeared to be through an iron gate between them.

Kinsey knew they would never let a Down Below scruff like him pass, so before they caught sight of him coming up the maintenance stairs, he clambered over the rickety railing and slipped down underneath, using the various struts and supports to pull himself along. He was small and agile, able to clamber along quite easily. Sometimes he swung himself along by just his arms, his small bare feet dangling above hundreds of metres of nothingness.

His old home was far below now, lost in the mists. Just thinking about it caused a funny lurch in his belly, and he gripped the supports tighter. He was sure a drop like that would make just as big a mess of him as it did those falling fruits.

Kinsey made his way up under the guard towers. He was so close he could hear the men grumbling about how boring their job was, how nothing ever happened, and how they were looking forward to quitting time; the good meals they would receive, the warm beds they would later retire into.

Kinsey would have gladly endured eight hours of gate duty if it meant he could enjoy such luxury! He would have stood in that little glass box all day with a huge, dopy smile on his face!

Instead he continued to swing himself along under the walk-way, not stopping until he thought he was out of the guards’ line of sight. Only then did he pull himself up and over the railing. He flopped onto the skyway where he lay gasping like a freshly-caught sewer-fish, struggling to get his strength and breath back. He was almost done.

But he had one more thing to do first. He had to see the sky in all its wonderful entirety, without a single steel strut or cable in the way. He had to feel what it was like to be finally free of the fetid grip of Down Below.

So when he felt he was strong enough, he picked himself up, brushed down his torn, ragged tunic, and started to walk out onto the skyway.

Hey – you there! Stop!

He had underestimated the power of the men’s sight. Perhaps, living up here out in the open, they could see a lot further than he. Kinsey started to run, his bare feet pounding against the steel floor beneath.

"Stop or we shoot!" boomed one of the guards.

Surely they wouldn’t – he was just a thirteen year old kid! He continued to run. Only a few cables hung overhead now. Then something hot and white sizzled past him, missing him by mere millimetres. He shrieked and spun around with his hands in the air. He had been wrong! They would shoot a little boy like him! What kind of horrible monsters were these guards from Up Above?

With a sinking in his guts he realised they probably did know about the awful conditions his people lived in, and simply didn’t care.

The two men marched towards him, aiming their enormous rifles. They were adorned with various fancy lights and dials. Cables ran to large battery-packs, humming with power. Lightning crackled ominously around spinning orbs fitted into their large, flared muzzles.

Dr Mossberg had such a weapon, hanging on the wall of her cramped laboratory. She took it with her when she went down to the steam plant so no-one would mug her for the money she earned there, fixing various problems. But it was scratched and dented, and the capacitor was starting to come loose. Every time she powered it up and pointed it at a threat, people dived for cover, convinced it was going to explode in a spectacular ball of fire.

But these two weapons appeared sleek and new. And pointed right at him. Kinsey didn’t doubt they had the power to cook him like a mushroom steak. He gulped, keeping his hands where the cops could see them.

I’m – I’m s-sorry sirs – I just wanted to see the sun, he stuttered. If it’s alright with you, I’ll be on my way back down now. Tentatively, he took a step.

The cops stepped forward, blocking the passageway. Did I say you could move, you filthy little rat? growled one of the men, a huge bearded fellow. Stay right where you are and no more talking unless we say you can. Now, who are you?

K-Kinsey, sir.

And where are you from?

Kinsey pointed straight down. D-Down Below, sir.

Got any ID on you?

Kinsey stared at the man in confusion. Eye dee?

Identification, you stupid little squirt. I need to see a credit stick.

Kinsey gulped again. I – I don’t have one, sir. C-can’t afford one.

No-one allowed up here without a credit-stick, so that makes you a trespasser, rumbled the other guard, whose jacket had the shiniest brass buttons Kinsey had ever seen. Idly, he wondered how much they would be worth to a recycler.

Well, if you’ll just let me past, I’ll be on my way, and you won’t have to worry anymore.

Oh no. Trespassing’s a crime. You’re coming with us to the station, maybe do a little stint in the Dream Factory. While Buttons kept his gun pointed at him, Beardo shouldered his and stepped forward to grab him.

Now there was only one weapon aimed at him, Kinsey was sure he could escape. He ducked under Beardo’s thick, gloved fingers, squeezed past Buttons, and launched himself over the railing!

To his credit Buttons was faster than Kinsey had expected, and managed to get a shot off after him. But the searing, white-hot blast missed and the boy was able to swing himself back down under the walkway. He started to climb along like he had before. Surely the beasts wouldn’t blast him while he was underneath them! They would electrocute themselves!

But they were only gate guards after all, and not particularly smart. They also didn’t often get the chance to fire at something, so they were extremely trigger-happy. Shoot the slippery little sod again! No-one gets past us!

Buttons aimed his huge gun over the side and fired. He missed Kinsey once more, but his blast took out one of the support-struts the boy was hanging from. The metal started to peel away with a loud screech, and the lad found himself slipping.

He glanced up at the guards. Maybe he ought to take his chances with gaol. That Dream Factory place couldn’t possibly be worse than the filthy streets of Down Below, could it? He started to swing from the broken rail, hoping to catch another nearby. But he had dropped about a metre, and it was suddenly a horribly long way away. Help me up! he called. I’ll come with you, I promise!

The two gate-guards exchanged glances. You’re too far down to reach, said Beardo.

Not climbing down there, agreed Buttons.

They looked down at Kinsey. Their eyes were cold and dark beneath the brims of their caps, making it clear that the boy was on his own. He tried to inch his way back up the broken strut, but it creaked and groaned, coming away even more. He started to swing himself again, and each time the metal broke further. But all he had to do was fling himself up as hard as he could. He was sure he could reach the other beam.

He swung out as far as he was able, and then let go. He soared through the air. For one brief, glorious instant he was flying, certain he was going to make it. Then he started to drop. His nails screeched against the steel of the other rod. He clutched, but his fingers snapped closed around nothing. He shrieked in dismay and horror as the bar started to rise into the air above him.

Beardo and Buttons watched Kinsey disappear into the mist.

Stupid little pillock, said Beardo.

Yeah, agreed Buttons. Now we have to report that broken strut. He groaned. The repair costs will probably be docked from my pay!

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Chapter 1

Far, far beneath the guard checkpoint lay the dark, grim world known as Down Below.