New Earth City, 22 July Entry 3

No word back from the potential job. That's fine with me. While I grew up on one of the sub-stations of NEC, I only came here as a boy with my parents as tourists. Getting to know the place is a lot of fun. The monorails, the old-style birails and of course the enjoyment any footwalker can have by reaching their destination faster than any free-vehicle could. I don't know--maybe I'm meant for this city. Maybe coming back here was sort of destiny. I hated Angels for it's stupidity--freevies can get you anywhere, but they're absurdly inefficient. The "free" in "free-vehicles" was pretty damn expensive.

So, NEC's a real place for people who are fine with footing it and taking rails to get where we need to go. Still, there are streets that are clogged with traffic. With another day without work, I plan on spending some of tomorrow exploring, at least a bit. Finances are tight, but my RailPass is already paid for until the end of the month, so I have another week of unlimited travel.

Where should I go?

To the Imperial Block and see the entire topside of the station? Or maybe check out the shops at the major consuming squares in NEC? On my birthday last month my wife and I stumbled across some really interesting independently owned shops selling all sorts of neat items. I don't know how they survive--even though they charge so much for their goods, I can't imagine it's enough to cover the energy taxes they must get stuck with. After all, you can't sell what customers can't see.

No, I can't go shop-visiting for my aforementioned financial reasons. Sure, I could simply avoid buying anything, but why tease myself? This move has been hard enough. No, I'm going to check out the underside of the station. It's where I live so it'll be a short commute.

The move, by the way--the trip--from the west quad to here was pretty smooth, as I think I said. The only thing that was hard was when an unforecasted solar storm kicked up and blinded our van's sensors. We were sight-flying for about a thousand kilometers. A little nerve-wracking. If you lose your baring for even a few hundred you can get far enough off your course to find yourself without enough fuel to get to your next stop. Sure, there's always calling for a tow, but still--you don't want to get lost in some parts of the Ring waiting for your truck to show up, you kn0w?


How do I feel about living on the underside? Well, it's not the best in the world, right? I mean, sure--I was living in a pretty nice neighborhood back in Angels, but it's no surprise that the Big City wouldn't let me stay in as nice an area. We're paying more for an apartment in a worse part of the station. Still, I kind of like it. I live among people like me--no, not aspiring journalists--but real, normal people. We're not rich or powerful here. The politicians and even the business people all speak eight different dialects, despite the ban. Of course, here in NEC, the ban doing business in languages other than Standard isn't really enforced. There are so many people here from so many different quadrants that it would be impossible to function without speaking at least one other dialect.

I do feel isolated. Partly because I speak Standard so well (in a way, it's my job--or rather, it will be) and partly because I'm used to so much more comfort. Another factor is that my area just doesn't have a lot of Standard-friendly shops around that we can frequent. No chain cafes or eateries that we recognize.

Again, it's good. I'm perfecting my observational skills here. I'm not used to seeing or hearing people like my neighbors. It's a good thing, I think. Then again, if I'm going to try for anything in the mainstream, underside-aware may not be something I should list on my CV. Must consider that.

I'm doing what writers used to call "rambling," I think.

All right, let me see if I can get a bit more interesting.

Why am I in NEC? My wife got the job here, but what am I going to do here?

As I mentioned I am an aspiring journalist. The irony with that statement is that I'm fifteen years out of college and majored in nothing resembling journalism.

The added irony to that statement is that I despise the media.

I suppose I think I'll try to pretend I don't long enough to try to journalize what actually matters in this universe.

That should work fine if they don't find me out and somehow purge me from the system.

Maybe I'm just being aware of a conspiracy where there isn't one. Regardless, no one wants to seem aware. That's why I've got this blog. It will serve as my release valve. That's some more irony for you. Back in ancient times the point of the media was to investigate and journalize. You'd think I'd be worried about them finding this blog, but that would require effort. Besides, they'd have to report the truth--no one does that anymore.

Apologies. My cynicism runneth over. I admit "runneth" isn't Standardly correct, but this is NEC. No one enforces the ban.

All right, enough "babbling."

Tomorrow, I'll go somewhere.

-Jim