In a world of steamships and Progress, no one who sails due south across the Wild Sea ever returns.
No one knows why.
Dale Mortensen intends to solve the mystery. With the help of an old sailor and a reformed playboy searching for his missing sweetheart, he locates a captain and crew ambitious—not to mention crazy—enough to undertake the journey across the Wild Sea.
The Infinity and her crew sail south, but the truth of what really lies on the other side of the horizon is more amazing—and terrifying—than anything they can imagine.
It’s the adventure of a lifetime—and it may just get Dale and his friends killed.
Find out how this Young Adult steampunk adventure unfolds chapter-by-chapter every Thursday! Click here to start from the beginning. Or if you want to read it at your own pace, buy the ebook for $6.99 from Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords or Sony, or get it as a trade paperback from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Book Depository.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HORIZON
E. R. PASKEY
TWENTY-TWO
WEST LOWERSEDGE. DALE MULLED THOSE WORDS OVER in his mind as Banger drove them away from the Square and deeper into Rift City. Did that mean there was also an East Lowersedge? He said as much to Riley, who smiled.
“Yes, though it’s difficult to explain.” He shrugged. “You’ll understand when you see it.”
Dale only nodded. He glanced over his shoulder, back in the direction of the Hospital, which was no longer visible. He thought of Belly, and the old codger’s inability to get past Mrs. Weatherby’s formidable nurses. Will that happen to me too?
Riley seemed to know the direction of his thoughts. “Don’t worry. You’ll be able to visit the Hospital. It’s only New Arrivals who haven’t met the Committee yet that are generally prohibited from having visitors.”
Well. Dale had expected as much. That explains that.
The sky flared with a brilliant streak of lightning—Dale was not sure where—and a moment later an ominous rumble of thunder rolled through the air. Over the familiar, comforting bustle of the city, Dale could not tell if it was still raining, but a glance out the window told him not a single raindrop had hit the ground. “How far does that glass dome extend?” he asked in interest.
“The dome itself only extends over the Square and its immediate surroundings, but all the open spaces here inside the city have been covered over.” Riley shook his head, looking glum. “It rains so much, you see. Veritable deluge every day. Had to do something or we’d all be dripping wet every time we set foot outside.”
“Really?” Dale’s hazel eyes widened, despite himself. No matter how you cut it, that was a lot of glass. And what an ingenious idea.
“Oh, yes.” Riley pointed out the window beside Dale. “See those stone pillars lining the Square? They hold the weight of the dome. Other places, they cut shelves into the trees to support glitterglass roofs.”
“In trees?” Dale looked back at Riley in surprise, trying to imagine trees large enough to support something like that.
In front of them, Banger snickered. “You’ll understand when you see them.”
“They’re huge,” said Riley quietly. “Biggest trees I’ve ever seen anywhere. I’m not even sure there’s anything comparable on the Other Side.”
Bewildered, Dale latched onto the other part of his statement. “What’s glitterglass?”
Riley waved a hand. “Unique to Rift City. I’ll explain later.” He glanced out the window. “Stop here, please, Mr. Banger.”
“Are you certain?” Banger sounded surprised.
“Yes.” Riley straightened his shoulders, a rather determined look on his face. “I think I’ll introduce Mr. Mortensen to the Rail. It’ll be faster.”
“All right, sir.” The automobile veered over to the side of the street and slowed.
Riley got out and Dale followed. “Thank you, Mr. Banger,” said Riley crisply. “That will be all for today, I think.”
Banger tilted his head. “You’ll get yourself back to the Square, I suppose?”
“Yes.”
With a shrug, Banger nodded once to Dale. “Mr. Mortensen.”
“Mr. Banger.”
And with that, Banger put the automobile in gear and chugged off down the street.
“Finally,” said Riley with relief. He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief produced from a pocket and pushed his spectacles up higher on the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Dale, still determined, though a tinge of apology bled through his expression. “I was beginning to think I would never be rid of him.”
“You don’t like him?”
“Not particularly.” Riley set off down the sidewalk. “Nice enough chap, I suppose, but they’ve got their hooks into him.” He trailed off when he realized Dale was no longer following him. “Mr. Mortensen?”
Dale had not heard a single word beyond “hooks”. He stood rooted to the pavement, staring at the scene around and above him with unabashed wonder. From the inside of the automobile, he had not grasped the full measure of Rift City’s differences from the cities he knew on the Other Side. Now, however, he could see everything.
They had been traveling on a wide boulevard lined with six-story buildings jammed together shoulder-to-shoulder. Colorful awnings covered the ground-level entrances to many of the shops and residences along either side of the boulevard. He had expected as much. He did not expect to see a network of walkways and hanging bridges stretched above them.
Dale’s breath caught in his throat. This is incredible! Each floor of every building opened out on a railed walkway, creating a six-story lattice of human traffic. The bridges spanned the boulevard on each level at regular intervals to provide throughway access.
People streamed past Dale and Riley, jostling both of them irritably when neither moved, but Dale barely noticed. After a moment, he turned to Riley with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“It does have its unique aspects, I suppose.” Riley waved Dale forward. “Come along. There’s more.”
More? Dale could not imagine anything beyond this.
“If you like this, I think you’ll like the Rail even more.”
Riley led the way across the boulevard to a shining brass Lift with a latticed gate, where they joined a queue of people waiting to take it up to higher levels. “Had to build up, you see,” he explained. “Can’t expand beyond this little continent.”
“Is the whole city like this?”
“Most of it.”
Dale frowned in remembrance. “Not the Square.”
Riley pursed his lips together. “No. Not the Square. It is…special.”
Rapidly overcoming his awe, Dale shot him a considering look. “Politics.”
“Exactly.”
The line of people moved forward quickly; they were next to take their places on the lift, which was operated by an old man in a deep emerald coat with shining brass buttons. “Level 3,” Riley told him.
With a barely audible groan and jerk, the Lift ascended. It stopped on the second Level and the doors slid open to let a few people off and accept a few more to take their place. It then ascended up to the third Level and the doors opened again.
Riley moved out of the Lift. Dale followed him, but strayed near the railing to peer down at the boulevard two levels below. With the exception of their strange mechanics and somewhat outdated clothing, the scene below them could have occurred in any city Dale had ever visited. It was only until one saw the walkways and bridges that the truth smacked them in the face. Absolutely fascinating. Shaking his head, he took a few long steps to catch up to Riley.
As they walked, Dale found himself, as always, with an unencumbered view. Barring the occasional tall gentlemen or workman out on an errand, he was the tallest person in the crowd. It meant he had to duck the edge of an awning every so often, but he was used to that.
“Here we are,” said Riley.
The plank-covered street abruptly widened to the right as a small, covered plaza appeared. It was sectioned off into queue lines with emerald velvet ropes strung between posts. A group of people stood in these. Some clutched baskets, bags, and small children; others were empty-handed.
Dale was not entirely sure what they were waiting for, but then he remembered what Riley had told Banger. The Rail. That sounded an awful lot like a railroad. Can’t be, though, he thought with a frown. We’re three stories up.
Bemused, he followed his guide over to what looked remarkably like a ticket counter and watched Riley pay for a pass with a strange-looking gold coin he produced from his pocket. This pass Riley handed to Dale. “Good for two weeks. Should see you through to your first payday.”
Dale took the stiff piece of paper and turned it over in his fingers. Official-looking script in four languages proclaimed it to be a Rift City Rail Pass. “Does it work like a railroad ticket?”
“Not quite. These are a bit more expensive to start out with, but they’re worth it in the end. Has a slot for every day, you see.” Riley indicated these markings with his forefinger. “Every day, the ticket counter uses a different stamp. You buy a day pass, a two week pass, or pay every time you use the Rail.” He smiled. “You’ll see.”
They joined the queue. Standing this close to the citizens of Rift City, Dale was suddenly uncomfortably aware of his ill-fitting clothes. He successfully resisted the urge to fidget with his too-short sleeves, but felt a dull flush creep up the back of his neck when he caught an older woman staring disapprovingly at his bare wrists. He felt like the clock had been turned back and he was back in the stage of outgrowing everything on a daily rate. The last few years had been better; he had been able to afford clothing that fit properly.
He glanced away, missing the look of understanding that now suffused the old woman’s face as she caught sight of Riley. A tug on his aforementioned sleeve, however, had him looking down at the old woman.
“You’re a survivor, aren’t you?” she asked without preamble. She ignored the horrified gasps from the people around them at this apparent breach of etiquette and shook her head. “They could at least made sure you had clothing that fits properly.” She cast a baleful look at Riley, who had the grace to look abashed. “You know as well as I do how much that helps, Mr. Riley.”
“Wasn’t up to me, Mrs. Pinning.”
“It never is,” she said tartly.
A flash of emerald green and brass appeared, resolving itself into a series of what looked like small versions of rail cars on the other side of the queue lines. The group of people began to move forward but the old woman craned her neck to look up at Dale again. “Look up a woman named Yuriko, in East Middlesedge when you get the chance. Tell her Alma sent you.” She smiled and patted his elbow, which was about as high as she could reach. “Welcome to Rift City.” She flashed a ticket at the liveried man standing to one side of the queue and disappeared into one of the cars.
Still bemused, but no longer embarrassed, Dale kept pace with Riley as they moved toward a rail car. Riley showed him how to slide his ticket into a punch machine to have it stamped, and then the two of them took their place in a rail car. Riley flashed a badge at a couple that tried to join them. “Sorry. Official Committee business.”
He pulled the door shut with a satisfied sigh. “Sometimes, the position does come in handy.”
Dale was too busy looking around without moving to reply. Within the first five seconds of stepping aboard the rail car, he realized two things. First, just like practically everything else he had ever encountered in life, this car, with its leather seats, hazy glass windows, and shiny fixtures, had not been designed with someone of his size in mind. Had anyone been occupying the seat beside him, they would have found themselves in very close quarters. As it was, he had to hunch his shoulders to keep from banging his head against the ceiling.
Second, their car did not sit on the rails. It hung from them.
He cast a betrayed look at Riley. “The Rail is up in the air?”
“Of course it is.” Riley blinked at him. “We had to travel up three Levels—where did you think it would be?” He shook his head slightly. “There isn’t room on the ground for the Rail.”
Something in Dale’s face must have indicated how unhappy he was with this arrangement, because Riley hastened on to say, “It’s safe, my boy. Very safe. And it’s fast. There’s no reason not to use it.”
Dale just swallowed and nodded tightly. He did not quite trust himself to speak.
With a tiny jerk, their rail car began to move. It rocked back and forth a little before settling into one position. Riley leaned forward abruptly and Dale tensed as the car shifted again.
“Actually,” began Riley seriously, “there’s a reason I’ve brought you up here, Mr. Mortensen. It hasn’t been safe to speak freely anywhere else you’ve been so far.” He pushed his spectacles up on his nose again.
“What do you mean?”
Riley waved the question away. “I can’t get into that just yet—the story is too long. We must use the time we have remaining wisely.” He pinned Dale with a very earnest stare. “When I first met you at the Hospital, you mentioned a man named Peabody and his flying machine. What can you tell me about him?”
“Peabody and his dirigible?” Dale felt his mouth twist into a scowl. “I don’t know anything.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing beyond the fact that the man invented a flying machine and disappeared on her maiden voyage.”
“I see.” Riley sat back, looking disappointed. “And you’re not curious?”
“No,” said Dale sullenly. “I don’t want to know.”
That surprised the other man. “Why ever not? You’re young, Mr. Mortensen—I would have thought you’d be interested in such new technology.”
“I’m a sailor,” said Dale mulishly. When Riley showed no comprehension of what this entailed, he added, “If flying machines do away with the shipping industry, where does that leave me?”
Now Riley just looked confused. “My dear boy, if the railroads couldn’t destroy the shipping industry, what makes you think a flying machine could?” He shook his head. “It is the nature of industry to change as technology advances.”
Dale said nothing; he merely looked out the window. Indeed, the sights flying past were nearly enough to distract him from Riley’s question entirely. They passed through stretches of buildings before crossing another boulevard and arching around what looked suspiciously like a massive tree branch.
After a moment, however, he dragged himself back to the present as a thought niggled in the back of his mind. “How do you know about Peabody, anyway? Did he make it through the Rift?” If he had, it hardly seemed fair that his harebrained venture to cross the Wild Sea had ended better than Ruben and the ill-fated Infinity.
A shutter dropped over Riley’s face. “No matter.”
Dale stared at him. “You had to have heard about him somehow.”
Riley waved a hand. “Rumors, Mr. Mortensen. Rift City has scads of them.” His face had taken on a pinched look, however, and his eyes were serious.
A worm of guilt began to nibble away at Dale’s insides; Riley had been helpful and friendly since the moment he first appeared in the Hospital ward. Clearing his throat, he offered gruffly, “You might talk to Raphael. He knows more about the dirigible than I do. Thinks it’s a grand idea.”
“Thank you.” Riley started to say something else, stopped, frowned, and tried again. “As you seem to dislike the subject of dirigibles, this will likely not pose an issue, but I believe it would be wise if you did not…mention it to anyone.” He fixed Dale with an earnest look. “Anyone at all.”
That’s an odd request, thought Dale, but he only shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Riley’s stiffness immediately evaporated. He glanced out the window, and then at his pocket watch. “We’ll be in West Lowersedge momentarily. As I may have mentioned earlier, a large number of sailors live here. I think you’ll find it the closest to home.”
Dale hoped so. He missed the ocean already. Knowing how dangerous it was only made it worse.
Their rail car began to slow as it eased into the next station. When it came to a stop, Riley opened the door and they disembarked in an entirely different section of the city. The first thing Dale noticed was the air. It smelled fresher here, mixed with a different sort of wet smell than the perpetual scent of rain he was beginning to recognize elsewhere. That new scent stirred memories from Falconcrest. Add to that the name of this part of Rift City and he was fairly certain he knew why sailors congregated here.
“Can you actually see the river from here?”
Riley looked surprised again. “What?”
Dale tapped his nose. “I can smell it.” He shrugged. “And there’s the name.”
“Ah.” Riley cracked a small smile. “I’ve grown so used to the names here I forget what they mean.” He nodded to the station. “This one is not far from the river.”
The people populating West Lowersedge were not dressed quite as well as those near the Square, but Dale still felt out of place.
“Most of the men who live here are at work,” explained Riley. “The ones that are not work the night shift.”
They traveled up another Lift—this one not quite as shiny as the last—to Level 6. Dale looked down at Riley and raised his eyebrows. “The rich don’t live up this high?”
Riley snorted. “The higher up you live, the more you have to worry about damage from storms, birds, and the rain constantly gushing off the glitterglass and into the gutters. Level 1 has to worry about what might happen if the Streamers find a way to make it onto dry land.” He shook his head. “No, no, those who can afford it live somewhere between Levels 2 and 4. And they don’t live near water.”
He led Dale down the walkway and turned right down another walkway before crossing a hanging bridge to the other side. The bridge gave a few creaks of protest as Dale stepped onto it, but it was solid enough beneath his feet. They eventually stopped in front of a door bearing a sign that read, Mrs. Yunker’s Home for Sailors.
“I reserved a set of rooms for you here,” said Riley as he opened the door and stepped inside. “They’re small, but there’s enough room for you to take on a roommate when Mrs. Weatherby and Doctor Carthage release him.” He glanced over his shoulder at Dale. “This will be in range of Mr. Avarez’s place of work as well.”
Dale nodded, humbled by the other man’s thoughtfulness. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. I remember what it’s like, you know.” Riley smiled and bowed as a thin, bony woman in a navy blue dress rounded the corner. “Mrs. Yunker.”
“Mr. Riley.” She had a weak, quavering voice, but there was a surprising amount of strength in her grip as she shook Dale’s hand after Riley introduced them.
Riley smiled at Dale and extended his own hand. “I leave you in Mrs. Yunker’s capable hands, Mr. Mortensen.” Reaching a hand into his coat pocket, he withdrew a letter. “Here are the terms and conditions of your new workplace, as well as salient details—such as directions how to get there. You start tomorrow. There is also a small amount of money to get you started. Should you need to reach me for any reason, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Riley.”
After the smaller man departed, Mrs. Yunker stood back and looked Dale up and down. “Well, you are a strapping lad, aren’t ya?” Her face looked as though it had seen rather more hardship than laughter in her time, but a glint of humor surfaced in her flinty eyes. “I serve breakfast and supper here; you’ll have to get your lunch elsewhere. Whatever’s on the table is the going thing. I give new arrivals a break on the first two weeks, but after that, I expect your rent paid sharpish. You’re free to have visitors, but,” she raised a bony finger, “there will be no female overnight guests. I don’t run that sort of establishment. Tell your friend when he gets here.” She shrugged. “Don’t like it, you’re free to find another place.”
“Yes, Mrs. Yunker.”
She nodded briskly and handed over a key. “Well, now, the first thing I suggest after I show you to your room is that you go out and find yourself some clothes and whatever else you may need.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “There are small shops along here, but if I were you I’d go to Middlesedge instead.”
Dale nodded dutifully.
Mrs. Yunker then led him to his room, imparting other bits of advice, but Dale could only partially take them in. He gathered enough to learn she had a soft spot for sailors because she had married one. When he saw his rooms, however, he lost the thread of her conversation entirely.
He—well, and Raphael, when he got here—had a small sitting room with a door leading into a washroom and a small bedroom with two narrow beds. The bedroom was windowless, save for a large skylight made of wavy glass, but the sitting room had one small window.
Dale’s feet took him to the window of their own accord and he peered outside. Excitement trickled through him—he could actually see rain streaking through the air. There’s no glitterglass roof here, he realized with delight.
Six levels below, a stormy-looking river wended its way between two steep banks.
On the opposite bank, the ground floor of the buildings stretching along the water’s edge had been boarded up and heavily fortified, but a deck ran along the second level. A few fishing lines—They’d have to be long, Dale thought—dangled over the side to trail in the water.
The sight of the river stirred up the restlessness Dale had experienced since he woke in the Hospital. He expanded his chest in a deep breath; it suddenly felt as though the walls were closing in on him. I have to get out of here.
It took him a few seconds to realize Mrs. Yunker had ceased chatting and was instead regarding him with a knowing expression. She flapped a hand at him. “Go along, lad. You’ve got that look about ye. Get outside and clear your head.”
Sending her a grateful look, Dale escaped the house. He emerged on the walkway outside, and drew in great lungfuls of city air, but it did not help. For the first time, he realized there was no wind in Rift City. With the glitterglass roof stretching overhead and the veritable warren of streets and walkways connecting buildings at every level, he felt remarkably like a bug trapped in a glass jar.
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. I have to get out of here, he thought hazily, leaning up against the outside wall of his new lodgings. But how? Where in this place could he find a scrap of relief?
The river. Of course. It was, after all, the only body of water he had seen since he collapsed on the beach. Ignoring the alarmed and concerned looks a few of the people passing by were shooting him, Dale straightened and lurched out onto the walkway.
Find out how this Young Adult steampunk adventure unfolds chapter-by-chapter every Thursday! Or if you want to keep reading right now, buy the ebook for $6.99 from Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords or Sony, or get it as a trade paperback from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Book Depository.
Copyright © 2013 E. R. Paskey