The Industrialist

Chapter 23: Bloomforge

Even with the smooth engine hum of the Taxicraft, hovercraft for rent, Damian’s foot tapped successively against the sophisticated material rubber floor mat. With arms spread, he seemed to be nonchalant in a new and possibly hostile territory.

Hostile, not because the streets were dangerous, but because the upper echelon class might be unreceptive to people like them, commoners.

Despite the majority of his body language being nonchalant-looking, his fidgeting leg says otherwise. Lance pleasured upon the site of it. Apparently, Damian had a nightmarish look on his face upon treading the upper territorial class, more than facing monsters beyond the walls.

He was a Specialist. He earned beyond the walls for a living thus the gore violence and annihilating colossal Abominants were way better than facing racist inlanders.

"Feeling nervous?" Lance asked as he sat comfortably in front of Damian’s.

The back seats of the Taxicraft were arranged to emulate that of a comfortable couch with an Air conditioning system adjustable to the back seaters.

Damian pulled his eyesight from the expanse of the Bloomforge scenery and back to Lance. "I am not really sure." Damian only smiled. He was a man of few words, however, during the trip, his words became almost non-existent.

"Don’t worry, Damian. It’s gonna be fine. And besides, I’ve been here a couple of times." The kid said.

"What were you doing here?" Damian seemed to have regained his relaxed nerves. It was clear upon his foot now stretched and resting.

"Trading. I have a customer here, an Electrical Tier 2."

"How did you know these customers?"

"Referrals, Damian. Scrap materials are hard to find and can only be found in our sectors. And these Scientists talk about how to get components."

"What kind of scraps are you selling here? It seems that they only use quality materials and not some worn-out garbage."

"You are right, Damian!" Lance anticipated his colleague’s inquisition. "They don’t use garbage building this place. My scrap components were used as materials for the Scientists’ inventions. For one to augment a level to another, he should be able to at least have one invention. And what I am selling are common-level components that are widely used by Scientists."

"Kid, you are full of surprises."

"If you need me to elaborate on the components, I could enumerate them for you?" Lance started to tease. Damian hated science topics. He only knew weapons and war.

"No. No. No. Let me be in peace," Damian smoothed his kimono-like clothing and straightened his Unitech shades that Lance bought him.

Lance was sure that Damian pleasured among the gigantic holographic advertisements through the Unitech shades since they set foot in one of the mid-classer sectors.

He too, was surprised that it was way more diverse than what he had experienced in Wraithport. The holographic advertisements were larger, more defined, and more populated, and the graphics were realistic. He took out his shades occasionally as he had to take respite away from this festive annoyance.

’Am I getting, old?’ Lance, a 16-year old asked himself.

Both wore smooth kimono-like clothing with no pockets and partnered with trendy Unitech Shades. Fortunately, their clothes were available in the Southern market, original imitations, and came in very cheap - 4 units each.

At least, they looked almost like middle-classers if one would not gawk at them for a long time and observe the inconsistency of the tailor’s work along the seams.

"Currency reminder, as what you instructed, Master," Jasper prompted, whispered behind his ear.

"Go on," Lance answered.

"You have 2,072 units," Jasper reported.

"State current purchases," Lance said.

"From 2230 units yesterday, 500 units earnings from the Obsidian armor. You spent 100 units for Unitech shades for Damian, 8 units for clothing, and 50 units for total transportation cost to Bloomforge."

"Copy that. Remind me again tomorrow. It’s hard to keep track of my money, nowadays."

"Don’t forget your groceries, master,"

"Yeah, I know. It’s the 3rd week of the month," Lance responded. He scheduled his grocery not in the 4th week of the month as most commoners do as he planned to prevent the heaving shoppers in the marketplace.

Such happenstance would be an utter waste of his time.

They began to ascend as the Taxicraft prevented traffic ahead. It had no driver. Lance only inputted their destination through a touchscreen pad inside the craft.

Two floors, three floors, and four floors high had their vehicle climbed up. And the holographic advertisements blew up to their faces like fireworks.

The Capital Sector held most of the neon lights. The digital screens were larger than all Sectors had and the aerial neon lights mantled the space, and its atmosphere, blinding the citizens from the horrendous scenery of black thunderous clouds.

If you flew over this blanket of various light wavelengths, it would appear the Earth’s true face - the darkness, the toxicity, the blinding gust of wind, and every bitter truth that would desolate one’s mood.

Even from below, one could not fully witness the floating MAFs.

Bloomforge was different from other sectors. Despite the tall structures that other Sectors had, Bloomforge Enclave held precarious-looking structures.

The craft passed on a tall obelisk, the tallest that one could ever witnessed. Looking from afar, the obelisk stood like a needle puncturing the heavens that would bleed black miasma similar to the blood coursing through the veins of Abominants.

Encircling its base was a park with monuments and statues. Remember, this age, this City, held no living tree. All structures were concrete, rocks, metallic, or plastic based materials were used for construction.

’Lost Engineers held the secrets of Botany," Lance thought upon the lifeless park at a monumental structure.

’It’s best that parks should at least have ornamental trees. It would contrast the dryness of everything else,’ He continued to train his thought of what ifs.

’The Lost Engineers held the secrets! If I could only talk to them and study their professions, I would be unstoppable.’

After a few turns and a numerous ascent and descent of their Taxicraft, Damian witnessed another precarious-looking structure. Instead of an Obelisk, it was a statue of a man built to an unknown persona.

A landmark bathed with forgotten glory stood amongst mundane structures, augmenting the mystery of its meaning. However, this statue, reaching 30 stories high, stood proud and indestructible. As if the man who portrayed held all the secrets of Science, was hailed as a hero of the Century, or belonged to a politician that nobility stood higher than selfishness.

The statue held a man’s form, square-faced jaw, clothed like the High Academics wore before the post-apocalyptic era, and held a book on his right hand closed to his chest.

Unfortunately, nobody knew the Statue. Upper echelons even called it the ’No Name Statue’. Lance only called it ’The Statue’.

Nobody dared to take the Statue down even though it consumed two City blocks just to support its base. It was built way before the time that the government had various governing hierarchies and among them all, stood the most authority called the President.

Without the solid formed foundations below its feet made of dense cylindrical steel that wound up to the Statue’s calves, it would fall against a strong wind.

Despite its ancient appearance, unmaintained, it defines the meaning of motivation and the pure essence of a human being.

For Lance, it signified that humans were once a moral race, free of hate, free of dark agendas, and only driven to augment themselves by cultivating, challenging, and learning the ever-mysterious depths of Science and the higher power beyond the limits of the unknown.

"Fascinating!" Damian said as they glide circularly around the Statue synchronizing the meeting traffic.

"A Statue with no name," Lance scoffed.

Damian was speechless though upon its sight. His face never left the transparent glass window, his cheek leaving fog marks on it.

"A few clicks from here, we will arrive at Changan Street," Lance said as he inspected his holographic GPS.

"Commencing descent," The AI voice in the Taxicraft loomed as their vehicle decelerated and drifted on ground level, a meter high hovering above the concrete, and amongst other Taxicrafts entering the boulevard.

Their vehicle took a sharp right turn away from the populated boulevard, Changan Street. Their craft passed by a narrow road in between the back portions of various buildings. It was as if a secret passage through a secret door, however, there was no door, only an inconspicuous corner between unsuspecting establishments.

Judging from the quietness and the absence of neon lights, the narrow passage was similar to the quiet streets of Steelpoint or any other dangerous streets of a Commoner’s sector.

"You have arrived. Your destination is on the right," The AI voice said after the Taxicraft landed.