The Industrialist

Chapter 17: Inland

A commoner would instantly know the distinction of sectors of Axe Central city if it’s within the boundaries of the low-lifers, or in the Mid-classers or high-classers, Cat feckers as some would say, categories of citizens. The low-lifer sectors had only a few solar street lights equally spaced on roads and highways.

However, the reach of these streetlights never actually provided sufficient illumination. One would still rely on body-embedded or clothed-installed flashlights walking these streets.

Every corner was dark, as if to be construed always as dangerous. The crime rate was high, as expectedly. But the majority were petty crimes – individual robbery, murder, rape, and abductions.

Which made the streets more dangerous.

On the other hand, the inland sectors also had crimes too, lots of them. However, major crimes had filled the police force database instead of petty crimes - money laundering, digital hacking, jewel, and food heists in warehouses, organized crimes by syndicates, etc.

Which made the streets a lot safer.

Lance felt out of harm’s way as he sat on a crowded bullet train. Rumors floated that the bullet trains felt like riding airplanes. Unfortunately, airplanes were a lost technology not because the current brains of the Corporation did not grasp the designs and the concepts of flying.

It’s just that it was not practical to fly against the worst atmospheric conditions - zero visibility, heaving dust particles, and a lot of signal interference.

Not to mention the Abominated birds.

The bullet train felt like it was floating in mid-air. Zero friction against the tracks. It was fast. He glanced upon the windows and all he saw were a blur of multi-colored lights inside the tunnels, almost incomprehensible. But as they reached beyond the tunnels, as the track flitted in the air overhead the highways and between the towering structures, he saw the vastness of the City.

He was never used to the picturesque beauty of the Science-filled technology that runs the city. It was always changing. The dominant city lights were changed depending on the day of the week.

He knew Monday was a Blue day. It depicted a bluish mood after a weekend. Lance smiled at the thought. He only made up the analogy for him to easily memorize the color assignments.

The vast digital advertisements were also changed, providing different hues of colors that reached various city blocks depending on what was shown.

The dark skies, beyond the floating MAFs, held crimson ochre reflections from the explosions of strobe lights below.

It was disco every time, especially when the sun sets and the dim daylight became dark.

’A total waste of energy,’ Lance thought.

Beyond the sprawling unkempt city, beyond the city lights diminished to the Commoner’s sectors, the walls were majestic to look at. Upon glancing at them, it felt like home for Lance. His father’s greatness emanated from the walls.

That’s why people in the religion of Science venerated the walls like descendants of the gods.

Unfortunately, Erik’s name was forgotten by the majority of the citizens. The media and the preachers told the people of Axe that the designs were amended countless times just to arrive at a harmonious perpetual exchange of energies between the walls, and the windmills that turned the turbines.

Hence, diminishing his father’s name as the actual project head for the walls’ construction and intricate schematic design. Instead, the media gave credit to the Electronic Tier Scientists, a group of them, who falsely made possible for the walls’ operation.

The windmills’ blades, seemed to be a kilometer each, turned harmoniously harnessing the strong winds above the tips of the tallest towers. The MAFs contributed to the air circulation in the sky’s atmosphere that greatly factored the increased wind acceleration towards the windmills.

The windmills powered the City. Hence, the wall pumps blood to the heart (Capital) and all the organs (secondary sectors) that support life. Without the walls, there was no life.

"Attention. Approaching Scorchgate sector in a few seconds," A female voice AI loomed inside the train.

In a few more minutes, Lance would disembark at the Wraithport sector where Grebert works. He disregarded the onlookers of some hostile-looking, back-stabbing-type commuters that sat in front of him.

Their fashion scents differ in vast and obvious proportions from the Commoners. Lance only wore jeans and a shirt underneath his pocketed jacket. He had his luminous and elongated backpack where he brought his Tyllrium.

The Inlanders almost had no pockets on their clothes. The garments they used for their shirts and pants were smooth-like silk, luminous in the dark, and others had neon lights along their seams.

They wore shades, almost all of them. A trend that Lance was not happy to indulge in. Lance never liked to acquire luxury trends of the Inlanders as it would cost him significant currency. It was not a necessity.

But having these accessories, the holographic watches, the oversized headphones, and the multi-lighted knapsacks, would mask a Commoner’s identity and superficially become one of the Inlanders.

"We have arrived, Wraithport Sector Terminal 3," The AI announced once again. It gave Lance a deep and satisfying sigh.

Lance could feel the coolness of tiled floors as he sauntered to the sufficiently spaced walkways after a few minutes of train travel. Public transport was never a nuisance in the Inland sectors. The Governor made sure of that.

Efficient system transportations were designed and built by the Electronic Tiers and all projects would course through Levi Menks’ review.

Wraithport Terminal was attached to a 30-story Transportation Terminal Tower and beyond the transparent glass walls; one can view half of the City. A few sectors from Wraithport, after Scorchgate, were the Steamhaven District Sector, a center where all manufacturing plants and factories were located.

The smoke of vague pollution filled the overview expanse of the sector discernible to the viewers at the transparent glass deck.

On the East side, opposite Steamhaven, a few sectors from Wraithport, one could see the Capital Sector, Bloomforge Enclave. It was where the highest echelon of citizens were housed, including Levi Menks.

Lance could see below the floating train track, just as he passed by recently, were a series of sinuous intertwined highways and other train tracks that seemed to be chaotic wires with their junction boxes and the structures attached to them were the electronic components.

Axe Central City was like a massive Electronic schematic board or an Integrated Circuit board that was kept alive by blood instead of electric current. A gore analogy as Lance would think about, equivocal to what really the City was operating were darker agendas fueling the bottomless pockets of politicians and making the rich richer schemes.

"Go back to Steeltrash, you commoner!" A lady in high heels and a gleaming dress mocked him as she passed by Lance while he was queuing for the elevators.

Steelpoint District where Lance came from was changed by the mid-classers to Steeltrash. An Eastern part of neighboring Commoners’ sectors. A product of a boorish-filled community.

"What’s that smell? Rats?" Another passerby teased with her friends. They chuckled as they exchanged verbal attacks towards Lance.

Expectedly, the Inlanders especially the Bloomforgers were boorish and racist.

Lance pressed the elevator button again. It was busy, on the 30th level, and the center for transportation, unfortunately for him that elevators would take a minute to arrive on the desired floors.

In the past, he received a lot of ill-mannered verbal attacks from the Inlanders every time he set foot in the inland sectors and he was used to them.

’They don’t know that they are living a lie. I am here to expose the truth,’ Lance thought somehow encouraging himself that all of them were just mere nuisance from a large plot in progress.

The elevator hummed smoothly as it slid open the door. He went in and a couple of the Inlanders too, two of them. Despite the disgusted stares upon the kid, fortunately, the inlanders did not utter any verbal bullying unto him.

"Have you heard the murders in Blooms?" The female inlander said to her companion as they were inside the elevator.

"Rebel rats, news said," the other one replied.

"Why not poison all of them in Steeltrash? Let’s see if rebels will still have a faction after," the first one laughed and traded a judgemental stare towards Lance.

"Who died, by the way?" the second one asked.

"It was the vice-gov," the first answered in a whisper.

"A bad deal gone wrong, says the headlines,"

"Vice-gov, dealing with rebels? Well, that’s expected," she laughed harder this time.

"Here, I’ll let you have the article," The first female touched with her palm the second female’s wrist. Holographic patterns emerged around the joined arms right after.

"Transferred," the first female said after a few seconds.

Vice Governor Valentyne was actually the preacher of truth. He was the lone politician who turned himself as the rebels do about how the City was managed. He led a few sectoral projects that were sound and fair and would benefit not only the mid and high-classers but also the low-lifers.

Rumors flitted that Vice Gov Valentyne dealt with the Rebels to expose the sinister agenda of the Corporation. Lance knew the rumors were true.

But the media never supported Valentyne’s drive. They attacked him instead with false news.

Expectedly but vaguely, the Corporation controlled the media and the news.

Whatever Lance’s plans may be, he should tread carefully. One wrong move would scatter news against him like wildfire and in one instant; all of the citizens would rise against him.