By Tully Jagoe


The First book of three
Switchgear - Levianthan - Sky Hammer

Chapter One

Even as I opened the book I realised that I should not have done so. Somehow I fell into the starry expanse depicted in the small panel in the right hand page and I suddenly realised that it was no book as we write in this reality. I fell for only a few minutes before I was somehow caught in space, or perhaps I simply could not sense my own movement any longer. Although I was surrounded by stars, I decided that this place inside the book was not outer space, but a simulation of it, for there was breathable air. I came to a gentle decent, somehow my falling had been slowed by some invisible force, and eventually my feet found purchase on steady ground. Surprised I had not died from the impact, I knelt and examined the ground. It was dry, cracked mud, but I could not see its colour, for there was no light apart from the frozen points of light of the stars around me. Only now did panic really set in. I sat down and relayed the previous events in my mind.

Only 30 seconds ago, I was in my father’s old house, packing his things, when I discovered a book hidden in a small brass chest in the library. The book was quite old, and had on its unbound side an ornate combination lock. After rotating the small brass ratchets so the numbers read 1100 it clicked open. My father used 1100 for everything from his wall safe combination to his mobile telephone key. Quite unsafe in my opinion. The pages inside were quite old and yellowed, but still strong. Every single page had written on it nothing. Completely blank. The only feature in the book that would distinguish it from an unused notebook is that on every right hand page, there was a small photograph, the size of a credit card, with untidily torn edges. Every photograph was precisely identical, every tear in the same shape and placement of the previous page. It seems this time curiosity trapped the cat in outer space. Well, the scene depicted by the photographs was one of a constellation, the Southern Cross as I recall. I tried to remove one from the page to show my brother, Karrad, but the moment I touched it, the library around me simply faded into non existence. And then I was in outer space, falling.

After recalling these events, and assessing my situation, I decided not to bother with trying to explain my predicament. Such futilities only distract from the process of finding a solution. After a time, I concluded that the logical action I should take is to walk in the direction of the southern cross, for perhaps there would be a similar book to take me back to the library. After a scan of the starry expanse, I found that, much to my disappointment, the southern cross was immediately above my head. My whole body shook as I struggled not to panic. I was stuck in another world of a galaxy or perhaps another universe, with who knows what dangers poised ready to take my life, in pitch black, with no food or water, and similarly equipped with even the slightest clue as how to get home. Almost in hysteria, I lay on my back and stared up at my torment.

As I lay there, under the stars, they began to flicker, as if mocking my stupidity. At first i thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then, all of a sudden, epsilon, the normally smallest and darkest star of the constellation, flashed bright for a moment and then grew to a perfect circle of white light, about the size of a five cent coin held at arms reach. Around its shape a cross hair grew, and from the outer ends of the cross hair, a circular outline extended around and joined up to itself. The other stars of the southern cross suddenly joined in the chorus, as paths of light were drawn in the air, connecting them, drawing measures, gauges, rings of light, encompassing the constellation, until it

was no longer a collection of stars, but what resembled an orrery, or a three dimensional star chart. In the centre of this, a grainy, three dimensional image of a power symbol inside a gear flickered into life. Seeing this impressive light show snapped me back to my senses, realising that now I at least had a clue of what this place holds.

I stood up, dusted off my clothes (which were already dusty from cleaning up all my fathers books) and tried to interpret the sign above my head. Perhaps the stars corresponded to landmarks on the ground? No, I would have to walk millions of light years to reach even the closest. Perhaps I should go north? Or South, according to the constellation’s cardinal points? Hmmm, possibly not, as all the stars apart from epsilon appeared to have equal weighting. The power symbol and gear? It seemed to be the centre of attention of the arrangement. Perhaps the breaking line is indicating the direction I should take. Again, I searched the horizon, or at least the point where the stars stopped, for the ground was as dark as the space above it. Eventually I found what I was looking for. One star, only one, protruded quite a distance past where I believed the horizon was. Could there be a cliff or ravine there, and I am seeing through to the stars below the horizon? And also, to re-enforce my theory, the vertical line of the power symbol was orientated in the direction of the lone star. I made my way towards it, slowly, for I did not want to blithely run past the edge of the crevasse and fall. After fifteen minutes had passed, I noticed that the surface under my feet had changed. It was bitumen. This comforted me, reassuring me I was making progress, and that there must be intellegent life somewhere here.

I walked on, always keeping my eyes trained on the single low star. Then, when I was about a kilometre from my starting position, I realised that the star was actually a point on the ground and I was moving toward it. Realising that there was no more danger of a cliff, (not that I could see, anyway), I broke into a run, and reached the ‘star’ within five minutes. As it turned out, it was not a star at all. It was a switch. An ordinary, white, light switch, set into the ground, with a soft white light emanating from underneath and around its edges. A switch? I looked back at where I’d been, though nothing had changed as far as I could see. But what could it be a switch to? What possible outcomes would arise of its activation? From what I had already seen of this world, there were precious few things that were not possible. Whatever this place was, I didn't know if it is dangerous or safe. All that I knew was that it was very powerful. Extremely powerful. But who built the switch? Would they be friendly or hostile? Whatever the outcome, I had try the switch. Its not as if I had any better ideas.

Immediately as I did, my head seared with pain. I hid my eyes with my arm as a blindingly white light burned its way into my eyes. Little by little, my eyes adjusted from the deep blackness of space to the startling new illuminated scene. I wasn’t in outer space at all. The ‘stars’ were large stage lights, set into the roof of a colossal rock dome. I was underground, inside an immense dry grotto bigger than a football field. But even

more impressive, was that where I had entered this strange world, in the centre of the cave where the southern
cross had been, a huge reflective sphere occupied the centre of the stone amphitheatre.

It was black chrome, highly polished, and was encompassed by a blue ring. But there the wonders did not cease. As I stood up, the earth began to mildly vibrate, not like an earthquake, but like the warm humming you get from a well oiled sports car. From all around me came the sound of rotating gears, chains, ancient engines which have been lying dormant for years, awaiting orders from one tiny little white switch to start thumping into life. And then the most frightening event I have ever witnessed occurred.

From the ground underneath the chrome sphere, a colossal drill bit as wide as a house burst up through the stone, creating an earth deafening roar as huge mountains of raw stone were ripped and ground from the drills path, helplessly thrown aside, and came crashing to the ground with a thunderous explosion. At this point I gabbed for my
pocket lens and started madly taking pictures, trying as hard as I could to maintain a steady hand. Then, it retracted quickly and silently, back into the depths of its path. Amazingly, I could still hear, and the stone had not been thrown far enough to reach me, so I was safe for now. But the sound of machining had not stopped.

For from inside of the tunnel, a large platform, like an oil rig or mining platform, came slowly rising upwards, driven by colossal gears and flywheels whirling and cranking like the internal workings of an immense clock. As it raised itself into position, large pipes reached outwards from the centre and dug themselves deep into the surrounding rock, securing themselves in place. And then all was silent, apart from the last few pebbles clattering their way to the ground, making an eerie echo.

Chapter Two

When I arrived at the base of the rig, I was quite flustered, after having run all the way. I searched the structure frantically for clues about its purpose. Eventually, I turned my attention to the reflective dome in the ceiling. It sat there, dormant, making a stern effort not to be noticed. After searching the rig again, I found a small ratchet sealed box on one of the main building surfaces. Inside was an intercom. I activated it without hesitation.
“Hello? Hello? Someone answer, please!”
After 30 seconds, still no answer. “Hello? Is there anyone inside?”
I received my answer. A well spoken, male voice answered. “Subject area of inquiry?”
“I wish to know where I am, what this place is.”
“Come again?”
“May I come inside and talk to you?”
“Ok, may I have your clearance code?” Clearance code? What code?
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, I am sorry, but I can’t just let you in. You’ll have to take a number for a

clearance code so I can be sure you are who you say you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as you can see, we’re up to our ears in work at the moment, so I’m afraid we can’t fit you into our supervised schedule for another two years. Unless you have a code for a reserved position.”
“BUT I’M THE ONLY ONE HERE!!”
“That is beside the point. Everyone wants to get in. If I made an exemption for you, and you turned out to be a profiteer, I’d be in so much strife it’d make your head spin. I’m sorry, but I’ve got work to do. Good day.”
That man must be insane! Or perhaps I am, and this is all just my crazy delusion. Perhaps I’m really lying on the floor in my fathers library, deep in a madman's dream. This can’t be happening! What people? Code?
“Listen, I’m not here for your services and I’m not looking for work, I just got trapped here, and there was a switch, an-”
“Oh, so it was you? You activated the switch? I have a message here for you from the supervisor.”
“Please, read it to me!” Finally, I’m making progress.
“Three points will be deducted for improper use of the switch without authorisation.”
“YOU FOOL! DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING AT ALL ABOUT THIS PLACE?”
“Oh, we’ve decided to resort to childish name calling now, have we? Well you, sir, are a MONKEY!”
“Please, will you just let me in?”
“MONKEYMONKEYMONKEY!”
“Stop that.”
“Not listening anymore. You’ve hurt my feelings.”
“Stop it now.”
“Shut up, monkey.”
“Look, if I apologise, will you let me in?”
“Wehhhhhhl, umm... perhaps.”
“I’m sorry I called you a fool.”
“There's a service door on the leading pipe of the Ground Drilling Unit, inside is a ladder. The door only opens to a code of circle circle star. Good day!” And with that he was gone.

Just as he had said, there was a door that I had missed set in to one of the larger pipes leading up from the ground, with a combination lock consisting of shapes instead of numbers. Once inside, a ladder lead upward about five metres to where the pipe changed direction and lead horizontally, as well as downward into a seemingly endless abyss. Upward seems the better option, although you entertain the idea of discovering what leads downwards.

I climbed up towards the horizontal interchange, which lead me into a small boiler room. Well, the room was only small because of the massive bus sized boilers that made up the ceiling and walls. Everything was beautifully polished brass gears, pipes and pressure gauges. Everything hummed and hissed in perfect harmony, like a jazz percussionist. A stocky man climbed up a service ladder in the floor and greeted me with a huge, slightly drunk grin and waved. He was dressed in perfectly neat canvas overalls and polished black shoes, which contrasted with his unshaven spectacled face. In a place like this, I would have expected his overalls to be covered in motor oil and grease.

“Just don’t tell anyone I let you in, ok?”

“Um, sir, could you tell me where I am?”
“Why certainly. You are currently in exploration platform four, currently undergoing excavation in tectonic quadrant 27.”
“Tectonic? What is it you do here?”
“I should be asking you that question. What were you doing unprotected in a mantle pocket?”
“Mantle pocket?”
“Where did you say you were from?”
“I didn’t. I’m from New York.”
“New York? Where on Hel is that?”
”Umm, its not ‘where on Hell’, its ‘where in the Hell’.”
“You’re joking.”
“Or you could say, ‘where on earth’, if you like. It just depends on what you feel like at the time.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“Pardon me?”
“Are you really from topside?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Are you from Heaven?”
“Dear god, sir, I can assure you I'm not an ang-”
“YOU SAID GOD! YOU WERE GOING TO SAY ANGEL!”
“I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
“Come! Come! We have much to discuss!”

With that he grabbed my wrist and lead me back down the service ladder, into a slightly larger cylindrical room, bare apart from a control panel, several tessellating triangular windows, and an old style microphone hung from the ceiling. Out side the windows there was only rock. The man called into the microphone;
“Platform in place, ready for retraction!” All of a sudden, the room we were in started dropping, as the ladder rose up into the ceiling. “Sir, could you please now tell me where we are going?”
“My dear sir”, he exclaimed with a huge grin,” Welcome to the third city of Hel.”

Chapter Three

As we drove through the enormous third city, I asked my new friend all the questions I had for him.
“So what is it exactly you do here?”
“Well,” explained the engineer, who's name I discovered was Rim, “Since we were cut off from the life force of the sun, our city has been forced to run on steam power. Because we live so far underground, we use the heat of the magma running through magma tubes and pockets to heat the water for the generators. Using a specially hardened stone that does not melt under those heats, we tap it off, run it through the generators, and then the cooled solidified rock is also used to build our houses with.”
“Amazing”, I exclaimed, “And that platform was one of those taps?”

“Close. That was an exploration platform, looking for a pocket where magma passes through regularly. I should have found evidence of solidified rock across the walls and floor, but this time something was different. There was no evidence of magma ever being there at all, but more importantly, there was you. At first I thought I’d accidentally dug up a jail centre, but there were no guards or anything. So I thought it was safe to let you in.”
“You mean to tell me that you bury your criminals? Alive?”
“Of course. They are evil people. We don't want them, nor does Satani.”
“Ah, Satan. Your god.”
“We of Hel have no religion, and it is Satani, not Satan, and he was the greatest warrior who ever lived.”
“Warrior?”
“Ok, I’ll tell you the story.”

“Exactly 2206 years ago, our two worlds were joined. One outside and one inside. We were great, we and Topside shared knowledge of flight, solar energy, subspace projection, and other advanced technologies. The people enjoyed creating and viewing art, music and dance. We had immense splendorous homes, and loved to entertain guests while we weren’t competing in orbital exploration. We could not have been more happy to spend the rest of our days simply socialising with our counterparts on topside, by traversing the great stone latticed highways through the crust. Volcanoes were not the dangerous monstrosities they are today, they were the highways between our worlds. Lord Satani Diablo ruled the heart, Hel, and Lord God Gates ruled the head, Earth. Both leaders were mortal men, but God wrote endless propaganda about himself, completely ridiculous stuff. Oh, I live in the clouds! I shoot lightning from my hands! I created the fucking universe! The people of Heaven were forced to repeat these things over and over until they actually believed it. Satani made a record of all of his ramblings in case he may use them as court evidence later on when God was exposed as a fraud.

Then one frightful day, the scientists of Earth discovered oil. They burned the horrid stuff for light and for their cooking, they burned it for their cars, and all pursuits of music, art and science were put on standby whilst they drank the decomposing bodies of the dinosaurs in the form of the cruel black slick that was their poison. Satani saw the danger that oil would become to everyone, including the people of Earth and King God, and demanded that God to stop mining and using oil at once. God retaliated, and in his fury he sent his lawyers. God’s lawyers had a field day, telling the world at press conferences that Satani was simply jealous, because he saw that Heaven was becoming stronger than Hel. This was the beginning of the great war.”

“The war raged for two centuries. Two hundred years! Earth began to turn the tide, but by the 202nd year of fighting, Satani made the ultimate sacrifice. Not of his life, but of his peoples advancement in science. He had constructed a device which awoke a beast of fire and molten rock that lived deep within the sun. It came to Earth, destroying their universities, oil rigs and cities. It raised a cloud of dust high above the stratosphere, blocking out all light, and all but wiping out the Topsiders. Then, it sank underground into the lattice of underground highways, blocking all exits with its molten fury, cutting us off from the rest of the world.”

“Well,” I said,” This is all a bit much for me. Wow. So, now you are powering your city on the heat given off by the creature?”
“Yes, because although the beast never feeds and never starves, it still traverses the course of underground passages, occasionally surfacing out of a volcano for a look around, but always on the move to a new lair. Its fiery body still burns bright within these walls.”
“But if what your saying is true, then why do you not hate me?”
“I do not hate you, and nor do my people, for we only hated God. He died over two millennia ago. You were merely rarks being played in his deadly game, and two millennia is an awfully long time to hold a grudge.”
“Rarks?”
“A playing piece of little or no value used in a popular board game in Hel.
“I see. We have a similar saying, although we use ‘pawns’.”
“Pawns? Sounds remarkably like a vegetable we have here. But back to the story.”

“There is rumour that became tale that became legend that before the end of the Great War, God learned of Satani’s propaganda record. They say he sent a spy to recover it, so he may use it to build himself a creature, even more devastating than the magma beast. The creature was called religion. By using the book, he could invent powerful images inside his soldiers minds and make them fight at double aggression. He called the book the Bible, for who knows what reasons. Maybe it was the name of his dog or something. He declared that the profits of the oil would pay for churches built only for his worship, and a copy of the bible would be available in every school, church and hotel room. That is all we know, for then we were cut off. I never really believed it, I just thought it was some old wives tale, but now you appearing in tectonic quad 27...”
“What’s so special about Quadrant 27?”

“That is where the age of the Switchgear begins...”

To Be Continued