Urban Myth - Part One: Awakening: A Dystopian Urban Fantasy

URBAN MYTH

VOLUME ONE: AWAKENING

By

Davy Lyons

© 2017 Davy Lyons

Published by The Golden Triangle Press

With massive thanks to Sarah Watts @ YourWords

http://yourwords-proofreading.blogspot.co.uk

GET YOUR FREE COPY OF

ISSUE ONE TODAY!!

For Lenny Fry

Granddad Len

Table of Contents

GenFacts Book #17:...........................................8

The End of The Outside (excerpt)..................8

Chapter One.........................................................9

Chapter Two.......................................................22

Chapter Three....................................................42

Chapter Four......................................................48

Chapter Five.......................................................58

Chapter Six.........................................................62

Chapter Seven...................................................66

Chapter Eight.....................................................71

Chapter Nine......................................................76

Chapter Ten........................................................81

Chapter Eleven..................................................88

Chapter Twelve.................................................93

Chapter Thirteen............................................103

Chapter Fourteen...........................................111

Chapter Fifteen...............................................121

Chapter Sixteen..............................................130

Chapter Seventeen........................................137

Chapter Eighteen...........................................141

Chapter Nineteen...........................................145

Chapter Twenty..............................................158

Chapter Twenty One.....................................163

Chapter Twenty Two.....................................170

Chapter Twenty Three..................................178

Chapter Twenty Four....................................185

Chapter Twenty Five.....................................192

Chapter Twenty Six.......................................200

Chapter Twenty Seven..................................211

Chapter Twenty Eight...................................216

Chapter Twenty Nine....................................219

Chapter Thirty.................................................231

Chapter Thirty One........................................242

Chapter Thirty Two........................................253

Chapter Thirty Three....................................257

Chapter Thirty Four.......................................261

Chapter Thirty Five.......................................273

Chapter Thirty Six..........................................279

Chapter Thirty Seven....................................284

Chapter Thirty Eight.....................................296

Chapter Thirty Nine......................................304

Chapter Forty..................................................320

Chapter Forty One.........................................332

Chapter Forty Two.........................................339

Chapter Forty Three......................................344

Chapter Forty Four........................................348

Chapter Forty Five.........................................351

Chapter Forty Six...........................................353

Chapter Forty Seven.....................................361

Chapter Forty Eight.......................................367

Chapter Forty Nine........................................372

Chapter Fifty....................................................385

Chapter Fifty One...........................................393

Chapter Fifty Two..........................................398

Chapter Fifty Three.......................................400

Chapter Fifty Four.........................................403

Chapter Fifty Five..........................................405

Chapter Fifty Six............................................410

Chapter Fifty Seven.......................................411

Epilogue............................................................415

Copyright © 2017 Davy Lyons...................423

GenFacts Book #17:

The End of The Outside (excerpt)

NOW, A CENTURY IS ONE hundred years - you have probably heard your teacher say this before. Today we approach the Second Century after the end of the Resource Wars, which heralded the end of the great Outside. This means, if you calculate, it is a century and a half since the Cyberete Corporation built our Dome.

Of course, the Outside has now become uninhabitable to humans. Corporation sponsored expeditions, led by brave Science Corp men and women, have found many different remnants of the old world, but no survivors. None that a loyal Citizen of the City would recognise! Well, you might hear some of your friends tell you they have heard stories of monsters and mutants. Just be careful you never find yourself on the Outside, beyond the shell of the Dome. Not even our formidable Colossus will be able to protect you from the wild beasts and terrifying natives!

(Book 17, GenFacts History,

© Cyberete Corporation 2259. For ages 5 – 15)

Chapter One

2317 C.E.

Cyberete Corporation -

Central European Dome (North-West)

ZEON VEGA SHOULD HAVE looked the other way. He should have stared out of the window at the grey blur of the passing City zones outside. Or down at his tattered brown shoes, shuffling on the dirty floor of the Tube carriage. Instead, he looked at the girl on the end of the row of seats opposite, with her shoulder length red hair and perfect skin. She pursed her thin lips, twitching her pointed nose as she flicked a finger across a personal phone. Two big brown eyes concentrated on the small screen, never daring to venture away and glance around the tube carriage. It was the eighteen hundred home delivery service, but the phone indicated she wasn’t from the Shopfloor class. Besides, her hair was too immaculate, her face too vibrant and interesting.

Most of the Cyberete Corporation Shopfloor looked the same, all born out of twenty two similar Birthing Pools. The women had short brown hair and were of varying degrees of average attraction, while the men looked something like him. Though not exactly.

At twenty nine, he still had a way to go until he was apple shaped and balding, and he still maintained an average Shopfloor look. His brown hair was longer than most, curling down over his ears and the fringe obstructing his eye line. His thin wiry frame was supplemented by hours spent on the VR sports apps and through wasting time down the virtual sports hall with Onni and Zefi. He didn’t like to think there was anything outstanding about his features, but deep down he knew he differed enough from most of his generation from Birthing Pool Vega. People had always said it.

For a start he was the only male out of one hundred with green eyes. There were several females who shared the trait, and not much was thought of it, but he knew it was a strange oddity. His nose was larger than his contemporaries and he had freckles which faded in his twenties. His lips were a different shape. They were fuller and made his mouth bigger. More than all of that was his curiosity. It didn’t fit a Civil Corp worker, who usually accepted their monotonous existence, working all day and wasting evenings on the VR unit. Zeon was different. He was always looking for something more, something a little interesting.

That’s why he looked the wrong way.

The tube was speeding along, curving around the outer rims of the huge Dome. The girl with the red hair was still swiping her screen as the tannoy system bleeped. A calm female voice with an automated sheen began to list off the mission statements of the four corporate entities that made up the Cyberete Corporation.

"Cybernetics is greater than Robotics. Cybernetics and Robotics are greater than Man alone...The civilian duty to the Greater Corporation is a corporate duty. Corporate duty is greater than Humanism...The Media will make you understand the truth. The truth will always be understood...Justice can only be served by those who serve it. Recognise their power, appreciate their strength..."

The phrases repeated several times but Zeon wasn’t listening. He couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.

She couldn’t be Shopfloor, and the Vagrancy weren’t permitted to travel by tube. She was from the Executive, the higher class of City society. He knew she could feel his inquisitive stare boring into the side of her head, but he couldn’t look away. Her eyes flicked up and met his gaze, just for a second. Her perfect lips gave the faintest twitch of a smile then her eyes were back on the screen. A hundred thoughts raced through his mind.

It wasn’t usual for Shopfloor men and Executive women to get together, but there was always a first time. He could be a pioneer. The thought made him smile and he looked away, not wanting to push his luck. The slogans cut out as a more austere mechanical female voice buzzed across the carriage intercom.

"Sector Two, Shopfloor Civilian Zone, Exit Point Seventeen arriving in ten seconds. This route for Executive Zone access points."

The tube jolted with a pneumatic wheeze, coming to a slow crawl as it approached the stop. Zeon watched the girl as she collected her brown bag and stood up. She was wearing a grey fitted pinstripe suit jacket and a thigh length black skirt. He noticed how it emphasized her backside as she made for the door.

He should have looked away and let her leave. Sector Two was five stops up from his apartment. Getting off here would mean an hour’s walk until he got in. Work started at zero seven hundred and if he got in late he’d be too tired to bear another day of inputting useless data on civilian transactions. If he just looked away, he’d be in bed by twenty three hundred.

Curiosity seized him, hauling his body up from his seat. The train wheels screeched as the carriage shuddered to a stop. The girl turned and gave him an inquisitive look as he made his way to the door, over stepping and having to grab hold of the orange plastic seat. His aging brown suit, misshapen and scarred, was off set by a white shirt with a brown tie. It made it more than obvious he was Shopfloor, and its drabness confirmed he was Civil Corp. He could tell she gathered this from the way she looked him up and down, before twitching her dainty nose and turning to walk through the opening doors.

Zeon didn’t want to scare her, so he waited for a small, balding man with wisps of black hair and a pudgy face to leave the carriage. He was dressed in executive pinstripes, holding a glossy black briefcase that swung into Zeon’s leg as he glanced back with dark twinkling eyes and hopped onto the platform. A woman in the white overalls of the Science Corp stepped forward. She was probably in her forties, with long black hair and a mousey concern on her thin face. She smiled as Zeon gestured for her to go first and walked out in front. He followed as the doors swished closed behind them. The Tube fired up with a pneumatic scream and wailed off into the tunnel, continuing on its endless route around the City.

The beautiful girl was twenty yards ahead, walking across the platform through dotted, green tinged light. At the end automated turnstiles led to a large concrete foyer containing various exit points. She was heading to Exit Point Seventeen, where the Executive Zone could be accessed via a chip implanted in the wrist. Zeon had a Shopfloor chip and would never allow access. Once she went through, he couldn’t follow. He picked his stride up.

The girl didn’t seem aware of her new stalker. A thousand ways to stop her disappearing forever went through his mind. He tried to catch at least one. Something to say, anything to make her stop and let him into her world. He hurried his pace more, catching up with the mousey woman then barging past the small man. He tried to shout, but no words formed. Nerves annulled his courage to speak.

The girl seemed to sense something and turned. Their eyes met. She seemed concerned, uneasy at her own situation. She didn’t smile, but he felt some kind of understanding. A plea. She turned her head and carried on walking.

Two towering figures appeared from the entrance to Section Seventeen. It was a sight any inhabitant of the City dreaded. Justice Corp Bailiffs. The silent stiff arm of Cyberete, enforcers of the laws and keepers of peace. Somewhere between human and machine, they were once people but had been transformed into biomechanical beings with cybernetic implants in their brain. Feared by the population, they brought a sinister authority to law and order. Every Bailiff looked the same from a distance, a grotesque lower jaw the only preserved remnant of its human past. The rest of its features were obscured beneath a silver helmet and black visor. Two glowing spots sat on the visor were the eyes should be and the jaw was barely more than skull, so thin and emaciated that bone jutted out in an obscene skeletal leer. They couldn’t speak, but communicated in electronic clicks that were controlled by a force within the Justice Corp building. Zeon usually turned the other way if he saw one, but this time he began striding forward.

The two Bailiffs stared down at the girl, automatic rifles in hand. She was glancing around, looking for a way out. Her brown eyes met Zeon’s, wide and pleading. He tried to think of a way to help, the situation becoming urgent as he got closer.

Hey, what you doin’, lad? a man’s voice broke his line of thought, a few yards from his left ear. Zeon spun around. A blur of movement leapt from the low roof of the platform above and landed on the ground next to him.

It was a man of about thirty five, thin with shoulder length black hair. He stood up, wiping the front of his long black jacket with his hands. The black hair straggled down past his shoulder, framing a face covered in stubble and stained with patches of dirt. He gestured at the scene in front of them.

Oh, she’s in a spot of bother, eh? he said, looking around at Zeon with a grin. The guy was a Vagrant, most likely drunk and dangerous. Just the sort of person Zeon would attract, and just at the wrong time.

Aye, she is too. I wouldn’t mind betting you like her, though, eh? the man said, before Zeon could reply.

The Bailiffs were pointing their guns at the girl as she held her hands up. Zeon turned to the man, who grinned back with a mouthful of blackened teeth. He reached into his long coat and pulled out a knife, glinting in the green-tinged light. Zeon gasped, stepping away.

Look, sir... he stuttered, ...that girl, she’s in trouble, I don’t think we can just stand here, robbing and... he stopped as the man’s grin spread, ...being robbed.

The man considered Zeon, then the knife, and shrugged.

I suppose so. You best not get involved, son, he said.

What are you going to do? Zeon blurted, looking around at the girl.

You stay put, young Shopfloor. Help will come along, you’ll see.

Zeon looked back to see the Vagrant swinging back up to the roof of the platform. He took two big steps then launched off at the closest Bailiff, landing with his legs around its shoulders. He thrust his knife into the exposed neck under the head guard and the skeletal figure sizzled with electricity, expiring with an obscene mechanical screech. Zeon held his hands over his ears, and saw the girl do the same.

In front of him, the air sparkled. An unseen but formidable force threw him back onto the ground, obliterating everything from his consciousness. Blurred flashes of images ran through his vision, forming a series of events that seemed to make sense in his mind’s eye. He saw the man grabbing the girl, throwing her to the floor in a protective huddle. Another figure appeared, silhouetted against blinding light. Time slowed. It warped, bending the sound and voices as more Bailiffs appeared with their guns held aloft from beyond the light. Their skeletal jaws were locked in fierce grimaces, the red glare in their eyes vibrant and threatening. As they stepped towards the man and girl, the monstrous policemen vanished into puffs of exploding matter.

The ground was shaking. Zeon could hear voices. At first it was a few, rapidly increasing to hundreds, maybe even thousands, all gabbling at once. He could hear breathing, then heartbeats and crying.

Everything went into black silence.

A cold robotic face appeared in his mind. It was a vision that haunted his dreams. The Colossus, the huge metallic being that stood in the City Centre, sentient but always asleep. Waiting to be spurred back into life again. A formidable war machine, it guarded the City from external threat, and was the focus of the Dome’s central skyline at over two hundred metres tall. Zeon had never seen it this close before.

The vision startled him into consciousness. A hand grabbed the collar of his jacket, dragging him away from the girl. The blackened smile of the Vagrant came into view, his face glowing orange. Zeon turned his head and saw the entrance to the station was a raging fire.

See, told you. We better get away. You best get home, son, the man said, and picked Zeon up. He gestured over his shoulder to the platform roof.

Can you follow me up?

Zeon nodded, watching the man jump up and grab the roof ledge, heaving himself up in one move. He turned, offering his hand to Zeon.

Take it. I ent about to drop ya, son, he said. The fingers were rough, the palms covered by tatty leather gloves. He pulled Zeon up and turned, heading towards the taller rooftops ahead. They went several blocks, until they were well clear of Sector Seventeen, then diverted down into a deserted backstreet. The man sat down on the sidewalk.

You can make it from here, he said, admiring the tip of his nasty looking knife. Zeon rubbed his shoulder, which throbbed from the blast, and looked up at the surrounding buildings. His apartment was just a few blocks away.

What was that all about? he said, letting out a deep breath. The Vagrant shrugged.

If you want to see her again, maybe you’ll find out, he said, and smiled. Zeon frowned, not sure if he was hearing right.

Who? That girl?

No, the bloody Queen of Sheba, mate, the man said, and laughed.

Sheba? Where’s that? Zeon asked. He’d heard of a Queen before, they were mentioned in some of the Cyberete GenFacts text books, but never a place called Sheba. The man shook his head.

Forget it. The girl. You wanna see her?

Zeon was taken aback. He nodded.

Is she okay?

Okay, yeah just about. Safe, though? Is anyone?

Zeon didn’t know how to answer.

Well, then, the man said, ...take this. And keep yourself alive, until we meet again.

He offered something out of his pocket. Zeon frowned and took it. He gasped.

It can’t be, he said.

It was a small card, about the size of his palm, with a vibrant picture of a man with dark skin wearing a yellow shirt. He looked with concentration past the camera. The background was blurred green and blue. It wasn’t clear, but Zeon knew it was something to do with the world before the great destruction of the Outside and the coming of the Dome. A border lined the stimulating picture, thin and white but aged so it looked dull and brown. Zeon had a small collection of similar cards that he kept at home. He couldn’t place exactly how he found them, but they’d been a fixture of his life since he was very young. They were in a small silver box, hidden under his mattress and always kept out of sight. If found, they would be classed as Unlisted items and he’d be arrested for sure. When his colleagues were in their apartments indulging in VR games, he’d sit in the dark of his bedroom, looking at the pictures with a torch and trying to imagine the world these faces inhabited.

The collection included several characters, all defined in vibrant colours. Some were depicted with smiles, others with faces set in looks of concentration. They had strange names, sounding like Vagrancy roots. It made Zeon view the Vagrancy with curiosity, rather than the standard disgust. He knew somewhere in the City there were places that could help satiate his ponderings about the nature of his existence, but it was better kept to himself. His colleagues didn’t think like him.

Unlisted, see? the man said, snapping Zeon from his thoughts. Keep it safe and use it to find me.

Zeon looked up at the man, then back at the card.

How? he said.

Find someone who sees it and they’ll tell you where I am.

Zeon screwed his face up.

Huh? But who are you?

The Vagrant smiled, the shadows making his blackened teeth look worse.

Lucian Marque, they call me.

In a second he was gone, leaping onto a garbage container then up onto the ledge of a dilapidated apartment block. He disappeared into the shadows of the rooftops that blackened the Dome’s internal skyline.

Zeon took one last look at the picture, then stuffed it in his pocket and hurried towards home.

Chapter Two

ZEON’S APARTMENT BUILDING was a grim silhouette. It stood in a jungle of concrete beneath the towering metal bars and steel girding that stretched up into the blackness, forming the structure of the impenetrable Dome shell. The time was now close to twenty one hundred and the darkness was beginning to be enforced. Lights flickered out all across the Shopfloor Civilian zone as he hunched up the street, nursing the painful throb in his shoulder. He clutched the card in his jacket pocket every few seconds, making sure it was still there. Unlisted items could mean severe punishment. In some cases, guilty citizens had become part of the sacrifice to the Colossus at the Trade Week Festival. Month Ten was just two months before Festival Season, a bad time to get in trouble with the Justice Corp.

Zeon usually looked forward to the Festival celebrations. Objects previously unheard of were listed and then sold for a number of weeks at prices everyone could afford. The City centre was opened up and the Colossus stood proudly, dormant but powerful, legs astride the Drowning Pool. The red light that formed its one formidable eye was always dulled and lifeless. People from all classes of society could approach the giant statue and make silent wishes. Zeon loved all that tradition, it made him feel part of something. Now he was worried he might become part of the entertainment.

This coming year, number Two Thousand Three Hundred and Eighteen, was going to be different. He could feel it. The incident at Section Seventeen confirmed things weren’t quite right. An icy jab of fear struck his gut as he considered the Bailiffs, and the very obvious fact the beautiful girl was involved in sedition of some kind. Perhaps even part of the notorious Overground terrorist organisation. He looked up at the building, gazing beyond its roof and into the inky black top of the Dome. The Overground was made up of Vagrants, and legend had it they frequented the rooftops and upper regions of the City. They used them to traverse the Dome and avoid detection by the Justice Corp. The man, Lucian, could be part of the Overground. He appeared on a roof, and leapt around like something from a game inside Zeon’s VR set.

With one last glance up, Zeon pushed open the front door of the apartment building and headed inside. The foyer was fading into darkness. A flickering and buzzing bulb at the back of the staircase shed a dim light. He was careful to avoid bumping his arm against the old white banister as he started his way up the stairs to level three, where his small apartment sat in the middle of a dank unlit corridor. The faded paint on the stairs had flaked off in little clumps that settled on the bare wooden steps, and each move sent a shivering creak around the bowels of the old building. He’d never walk around without footwear. There was a good chance of being impaled with some ancient discarded piece of metal or stone.

The place was generally deserted. The only time he saw other residents was in the hour after work, eighteen to nineteen hundred, when floods of people coming from the Civil and Media Corps all collided to make the dreaded rush hour. That was the only time he saw Bailiffs patrol the streets around the tube stops. He suspected the Vagrancy were far more familiar with the bony policemen. The only person he ever saw in the apartment after hours was the ancient looking caretaker, Buzz. Sometimes he’d stop for a brief exchange of words, few of which made sense to Zeon.

Level Three appeared just as pain started nagging at his calves, a thin sweat breaking out on his face and upper body. The corridor was scabby and unkempt, with green paint crumbling and peeling from the walls. Small piles of stone that had fallen from the structure formed on the floors, accompanied by the odd puddle of stagnant water full of useless masonry and discarded food packets.

He came to his room, Number 121. His name, Zeon Vega, was printed on the outside in large black letters. Next to it was his Unique Identifying Code, 01-01-VEGA-2288-01. He held up his wrist and pointed it in the direction of the small camera above the old wooden door. A scanner, built in beneath, sent out a beam of laser light. It located the barcode chip in his wrist, pinged and changed from red to green. The apartment door clicked open. White lights flickered on as he stepped through and a soft, automated female voice echoed around the room.

Zero One Zero One Vega, you’re back at last. I was beginning to worry. Welcome home, Zeon.

Her tone was familiar and soothing. Zeon smiled, removing his jacket.

Hi, Maisy, he said, and headed straight for the small kitchen area to the right of the door. It consisted of a rusty looking metal sink and shiny black work surface, with a thick pillar in the middle which protruded up into the ceiling.

You don’t need to worry about me, he added, aware his MA-Z Sentient Servant Unit might be suspicious. He inspected the several transparent pods embedded in the pillar, bending over to get a closer look. Something green and unappetising lay inside one, obscured by a film of condensation.

What is it? he asked. Maisy let out a thoughtful sigh.

Zeon. I detect it is a derivative of the brassica oleracea, produced in a laboratory in Cyberete Science Corp some three days ago, at approximately zero nine hundred. It contains several nutrients essential to human sustenance, including an abnormally high percentage of Vitamin C.

Zeon raised his eyebrows, and pressed a yellow button next to the pod. The cover zipped open, revealing a splodge of dark green leaves, steaming and covered in a creamy looking sauce. The smell was less appealing than the look of the thing. He winced, reaching in