Upside - Book One

Book One of Upside

HIDDEN DEEP WITHIN the earth, forty-eight hundred years have passed since their voluntary internment; the descendants of the survivors of the apocalypse struggle to maintain their deteriorating under-ground city.

Is it time to reclaim the surface?

What will they find when they reach Upside?

PRELUDE

In the year AD 2053 an asteroid passed between the orbits of Pluto-Charon, a minor planet and its moon, the furthest out of Sol’s solar system, and a trillion trillion tonnes of rock crashed into Charon.

The result of which, caused Charon to be pushed into a new, and wider orbit. This triggered violent earthquakes which lasted for years on Pluto. The gravitational upheaval and the collision caused a massive crack and a change in orbit, which ultimately detached a massive chunk, calculated to be almost a third of the moon. This left Charon with a serious wobble, which threatened to tear it free from Pluto’s weakened gravitational hold.

The gigantic lump of asteroid began to drift towards the centre of the solar system. Astronomers and mathematicians on Earth calculated that within fifty or so years, its erratic path would bring it close to Earth. Because of its unpredictable progress, there was initially an uncertainty as to whether it would approach close enough to be captured by the Earth’s gravitational field or miss entirely.

Try as they might there was no way that once the leaders of the leading nations could no longer keep the approaching monster hidden. Once it became obvious, billions anticipated an impact which could wipe out life forever. The world’s populations did as expected, degeneration followed by despair and both signalled the complete fall of civilization.

Evacuate Earth, or sit and wait for the extinction of the human race was the only two possible scenarios, the first was impossible and the second seemed inevitable.

From the moment it became obvious that a collision was inevitable, clandestine preparation was begun to create massive underground cities, each capable of holding up to three million inhabitants. By the closing decades of the twenty first century, the regressed human race had an opportunity, at least its rich and influential members had, to move into the wonderful sanctuaries built deep beneath Earth’s crust.

January of the year 2088 saw the final exit portals sealed.

Author’s note:

This book contains explicit, violent and sexual scenarios, along with adult language which could be considered entirely inappropriate for younger readers.

Classified XXX  (18+)

THE ANCIENT GODDESS of creation stood regarding the wastelands. The planet was barren, nothing but desert landscapes with solid ice at the poles covered the globe. I must repair it, said Nut the creator, tears in her eyes, it was so beautiful before.  She reached into her pouch and withdrew a handful of life, raising her hand she threw it into the wind; the dust blew to every quarter of the planet...

A millennium later another pair of gods stood hand in hand on the same spot, the clandestine lovers Anubis the god of the dead, and Sekhmet the goddess of war. It is time, commanded Anubis pulling a handful of hairs from his head he threw them to the wind. Sekhmet did likewise her golden hairs flowing towards the north whilst his flew to the south.

One day soon they will meet, and then we shall again be together my love, she said as she watched their offering fly away.

SETH WATCHED THE PAIR as they fell to the grass, bodies joining in their passion.

Filthy rutting animals, he spat, I destroyed this planet once and now shall I curse it again. There will be no love amongst the living beings I shall plant on this mud-ball and your offspring, all the creatures that fly, crawl and slither will raise up against them, and they will live in fear all their lives.

He raised his hands and clapped them together, from his fingers fell all kinds of creatures, ants, spiders and diverse other insects and creatures that skittered away from him.

Ra the sun god, from the heavens above sat witnessing the scene. With a sad face he proclaimed I cannot reverse my son’s curse but I give unto the lover’s children the right to rule this world.

2099 AD – September 21st

"FET YE DEEIN WI YON quine? Tam asked hesitantly as he turned the corner in the walkway, and stumbled upon an appalling scene.

Naan frr yer ta faas yesel aboot ye ald git, wes jess haain a wee wirdie. On yer way, theres nahin here frr ye.

The speaker brought a short length of iron pipe from behind his back and made a shaking motion with it towards Tam, Naathin yer hear?

His companions; one a tall gangling youth with greasy shoulder length hair, that in some other time or place might have passed as blonde, the other shorter with dark swarthy features his head closely shaved in the current style. A long white scar snaked its way from his cheek bone up to his just visible hair line, puckering the skin around his left eye. The misty blue, unseeing orb sat at a grotesque twisted angle. Both of them looked up from where they crouched over the girl daring him to respond.

The girl he recognised as Shona McLaughlan, her mother used to be one of his dearest friends; he winced internally as the words ‘used to be’ crossed his mind. The trio must be incomers, a few had appeared in town over the last few days; from another district, from the south, their accents not local.

Shona was lying face down in the dirt of the alleyway, her back and legs were bare, he could see deep cuts and wheals which criss-crossed her fair skin, mind you there was not much of her fair skin left to expose, she gave a moan and gulped a ragged gasp of air.

Fet yer gawking at noo? gwan, I talt yer ta piss off!

‘Pipe wielder’ made another gesture with his length of pipe, the length of pipe which had most likely been the cause of most of the physical damage sustained by the girl.

Tam could do nothing but abandon his intention to continue the way he had been heading, pipe wielder blocked his way through the cutting. He had only wanted one quick walk through his old neighbourhood. As he turned about and walked hesitatingly back, retracing his steps, he heard the unmistakable ‘whack’ of yet another blow being struck; there was a short strangled scream, then silence.

Sickened, Tam looked back once; pipe wielder’s filthy pants were around his knees, his white buttocks exposed.

Tam began to run, his hands clasped across his mouth, vomit spewing from between his fingers.

The doomsayers had confirmed it; Seth was about to slay the human race. In the sky Tam could see the dragon, its tail stretching from East to West.

Two more days they said, two more days to live, or two more days before we die, take your choice.

2099 AD – September 23rd

HE SAT ON A COLD WET step on the corner of the windswept, rubbish strewn street. Once frequented by the rich and famous, Harley Street bereft of its high-priced surgeries, home to rats and a few human stragglers who crept through the dark shadows. Like the rats they too searched for food, which included rats...

His eyes turned upwards to the sky, focusing with a myriad others around the world on the wide tail that flowed across the heavens, its target the moon - sailing serenely through the cloudless night sky, unprepared and unprotected.

Trillions of tons of rock travelling at hundreds of thousands of miles per second struck the far side of the moon, but this time no glancing blow as when it hit Charon. The moon shuddered and shook. A great cloud of debris rose almost ethereally around her. Blood red, the dust flowed like a windswept veil, held only by the weak Luna gravity and refracting the reflected sunlight. The ichors of the mortally wounded moon flowed outward, surrounding her in a sickly halo.

The queen of the night began to move, slammed from her orbit she now crept imperceptibly towards her larger partner. As she moved, she began to rotate. Vistas gazed upon only by those who had travelled to and from Luna, and those who had poured over the many photographs brought back with them, became visible. Her face; known, loved, and on the lips of minstrels for thousands of years, was changing, the familiar markings began to disappear, to be hidden forever, in their place a huge piece of another moon could be seen, embedded into her.

Closer and closer Luna came, until she filled a third of the sky, but by then no-one remained to gaze in wonder upon her new face.

Floods and earthquakes, tsunamis thousands of feet high swept away all that puny man had built and laboured over. Volcanoes belched thick sulphurous smoke that darkened the sky. Huge rocks, lumps of debris, pieces of both moons captured by the earth's gravity, screamed like burning hail through the thick black clouds.

UPSIDE

by

Peter M. Emmerson

BIG SISTER FEMALE

BIG-SISTER-FEMALE’S feet are cold; they have slipped from beneath her sleeping-fur. She pulls them back under and moves closer to Father-Male, - take a little of his warmth, carefully, carefully ... mustn’t wake him; - she doesn’t want to be beaten.

Big-Sister-Female lays silent, listening to the family’s gentle breathing.

Across Father-Male’s shoulder she can see the brown velvet of the night sky, a few sharp pinpricks of red light wink and twinkle at her. What are they, she wonders, are they watching me?

Father-Male sleeps closest to the opening his precious spear in hand. She next, the sharp poke stick close by her side. Mother-Female and Little-Brother-Male furthest from the tiny entrance, less chance of the youngling being heard should he wake.

The conceal is unexceptional for nothing must be conspicuous. It is no more than a pile of flat rocks the family has burrowed beneath, tearing out a burrow in the sand with their fingers, adequate for the six of them to creep into and hide through the night, at night the Crawlers range across the frozen desert searching, searching.

The den will be safe for just one more night, then the family must move, move to another place somewhere new and safe to spend the dark hours.

They spend their days simply; hunting and searching in the early morning and just before dusk. Wrigglers are good to eat, but they are fast, wary, mean and extremely dangerous.

To be stung by a Wriggler meant death, either from the sting or from abandonment for if a family member is stung; keeping up with the others is no longer an option, death is the only certainty.

Big-Sister-Female remembers Uncle-Male. Uncle-Male was poke-stick carrier before her. They abandoned him in an old hide, his leg swollen, black and purple and unable to support him. He knew he would die soon, for a stinger bite is almost always fatal. They killed the stinger; it would have feasted on Uncle-Male had they not. Mother-Female wept, for Uncle-Male was her Brother-Male.

To remain injured too long in a hide would allow the Crawlers to follow the scent of the wound, the putrefied flesh giving off a stench that would be impossible to disguise. The Crawlers, their eight long legs belying their name for they could cover short distances at tremendous speeds if a meal were to present itself.

Big-Sister-Female would not weep for her own Brother-Male; her Brother-Male is often too swift to use his club on her, for he has a short temper.

Uncle-Male was kind; he would often share portions of Wriggler flesh or crunchy legs with her when she was hungry. All he asked in return was for her to sleep close to him, sometimes he would rub his male parts up against her, finding the groove between her buttocks, she didn’t mind, it kept her warm. Now with no one to keep her back warm, she was cold.

Soon she would be old enough to attend The Gathering, there she would be chosen to be a Mother-Female, there she would be selected by a Father-Male of her own.

Brother-Male too was intent on leaving the family, at the next gathering he would pick a Mother-Female and depart.

THE HORIZON BEGAN TO lighten, the dark brown night surrendering with a final flash of ochre, morphing through a myriad of brownish hues to a light tan as the sun rose. Gradually brightening to a searing yellow disc of fire as the mid-day sun blazed down, turning the sand into a burning, blistering griddle. The family once more would seek the shelter of their hide.

Frozen by night, seared by day.

FATHER-MALE LED, HIS spear held at waist height. Big-Sister-Female a step behind the poke-stick her weapon. Brother-Male covers the rear; a short, thick club clasped in his hands. Mother-Female carries Little-Brother-Male on her back. Little-Sister-Female walking three paces to her right.

They are hunting for Wrigglers. Wriggler holes are difficult to find, Wrigglers hide well, not for fear of the hunters but to catch the hunters unawares, Wriggler holes are fine traps. Wrigglers taste delicious.

Big-Sister-Female carries the poke-stick. Poke into the hole, if a Wriggler grabs the stick let it, then stab, keep stabbing until it stops pulling, don’t let it escape. Letting it escape will not be good, letting it out of its hole means death will be free to attack.

When it stops pulling, Father-Male and Brother-Male will dig it out. Father-Male and Brother-Male dig, their strong hands a flurry, hooking away the dry sand and earth. Big-Sister-Female must protect. Sometimes the Wriggler is waiting, not dead. Sometimes the poke stick has not killed, if that happens Brother-Male, Father-Male and Big-Sister-Female must kill it or the Wriggler will feed upon them.

If the poke-stick does not kill and the family survives, Big-Sister-Female will be beaten for her failure. Big-Sister-Female does not like being beaten nor fighting an angry, hungry Wriggler, so she pokes hard and fast into the hole hoping for a kill.

Little-Sister-Female hangs back with Mother-Female, Little-Sister-Female and Little-Brother-Male. Their task; to keep watch all around.

Stingers! Mother-Female yelps.

The three hunters drop to the ground in a triangle, facing outward. Mother-Female and Little-Sister-Female unable to assist run from the dried stream bed, neither of them look back; the hide is their destination the others will find them there; if they survive.

The Stingers came high stepping, confident in their superiority. Three of them. Black and deadly, eight legged. Six legs prancing across the harsh dry sand. Two front legs with their killer pincers held out, snapping, searching for anything