New Earth City, 23 July Entry 4

Ever since we got here, we've been subjected to bizarrely hot conditions. One of the selling points of New Earth City for most tourists is the environmental simulation system--the ESS. It simulates the weather back on Earth. The one question any aware person dare not ask is: "Who remembers what the weather was like back on Earth?"

No kidding.

The unenjoyable part here is that the system is malfunctioning, dramatically. It's July, so the system is supposed to simulate a beautiful summer. Instead, it's been simulating a horribly hot summer. It's been practically nuclear--in the high thirties. Of course, you know what happens when it gets hot, everyone's energy taxes go up because we're all trying to cool our homes down. Our apartment drops down to the mid twenties only after several hours of using our air cooler. Isn't that just funny? A system designed to give us the best of the late Earth and it gives us the worst. What's next? An ice age?

I suppose I shouldn't complain too much. I stayed inside today contrary to what I said I'd do in yesterday's entry. It was just too hot out and I have a mini-sized air cooler that sits on my desk. It's perfect. Then I checked the infeed and saw reports that engineers were raising the humidity on the station to force condensation to form, then evaporate again, using up heat and then cooling the place down.

As usual, I was not sure such a plan would work.

However, there's not much for a regular person to do. Complaining to authorities would only encourage funny looks and accusations of being smart. So, I just write about it here and hope someone is reading.

Sure enough, the plan didn't go like the reports on the infeed said it would. Mostly the media doesn't leave stories like this on the servers, but I saw the report an hour ago, still claiming that no one should be alarmed by sudden wetness around the city.

Sudden wetness.

Stupidly, when I first read the report, I waited for the wetness to appear. There's a tree outside our apartment window that I kept glancing at to see if any wetness appeared, but all day long I saw nothing. I kept the windows closed as I'm pretty sure electronics don't get along well with water. Though I've never confirmed such an old wives tale.

As it turned out, I wouldn't have to.

After hours of waiting for something to happen, I got up and went for a walk. It was only slightly cooler outside according to the ESS infeed, but it felt hotter thanks to the humidity. I got about a half-kilometer from home when I stopped walking. It was late, maybe 20:30 or so and I looked up, expecting to see the stars that I normally see when I look through the dome that encloses the underside. What I saw wasn't stars--but a strange sort of smoke.

I have no idea how high up it was at first. Maybe a few thousand meters? I walked a little further past a cute little park near us and looked up again. The smoke was thicker and lower now. Understandably, I got a little nervous and started back home.

I withdrew my smartBox from my pocket. Immediately, I looked up information on "smoke in the sky". The infeed that came back was what I'd expected. I was familiar with old stories told to me by my parents about fires set back on Earth. They would create smoke and you could see it rise. This was something different.

I kept scrolling through the data. The next entry referred to clouds. No, these were not clouds. The simulated clouds we see every day are thin and white. This smoke was dark gray.

As I walked faster, I tried to keep reading, but it was just too hard to follow the information. When I reached the crosswalk, I looked at my smartBox again and saw another entry. It referred to harsh weather patterns back on Earth that were called storms. Then I remembered my grandfather showing me old picture stories from Earth that showed people with these dark clouds over their heads.

Was I looking at a storm cloud?

I looked up at the sky as I approached the building my home is in. Suddenly, my smartBox squeaked. I looked down and saw it change shape into the face of my wife.

"Honey, where are you? Do you know what's going on? What's that smoke outside?"

"I think I know, honey, I'll be inside in a moment."

I looked back at the sky and suddenly felt wetness on my face. Though it wasn't condensation--well, not as such. It was falling on my face, from the storm cloud. It was an amazing feeling. It made me want to stay outside.

Then I heard a thundering crash which was immediately followed by a flash of light (or maybe it was the other way around, I can't remember). I looked down the street and beyond the tops of my building and the buildings nearby I saw massive flashes of light.

It was the water hitting electronic components throughout the underside of the city. I wondered if the topside was experiencing this, too.

I moved inside, quickly.

"I knew this would happen," I said.

"You did? How?" my wife asked.

"Honey, everyone knows that water will harm electronics."

"Well... Is that what's happening? But where is the water falling from?"

"It's an ancient weather pattern called a storm. Like a solar storm only with the air we breathe, I think."

"Don't be aware, Jim!"

"Ande, please. I just checked the infeed on the smartBox and it told me."

She gave me an uncertain look and then turned back to the view from our window. More explosions threw light across these "clouds". Now the thunderous crashes seemed right on top of the actual explosions of light from the topfloors of the buildings.

"Are they coming toward us?" my wife asked understandably concerned. I looked out the window again and could immediately see an explosion of light that was closer than the one before it. She didn't wait for me to respond. "I think they are, Jim! What do we do?"

"I don't know, honey." I took Ande in my arms and held her to me as the explosions grew closer and closer. The water seemed to be falling harder now, as well.

"Look!" my wife said, pointing at a building we could both see through the window. All of the lights in the building were out.

"It's blocking the energy from reaching the buildings!" Ande said aloud, immediately looking embarrassed.

"It's OK, honey, you may be right." Just then I saw the next building closer to us lose its lighting, too.

"We may be next," I said immediately feeling Ande's embrace tighten. I looked down at her and said "It'll be all right."

Then, the lights went out.

One of us let out a soft yelp, but in all honesty, I don't know which of us it was.

Without thinking, I withdrew my smartBox once again and fashioned it into a light ball for the most even spread of light possible. The room was filled by a soft glow. Immediately, Ande's tense face relaxed. Soon, so had her embrace.

"Where's your smartBox?" I asked watching her move away from me toward the couch.

"I... I don't know."

"Did you lose it?"

"No, no."

"Did you check in your bag?"

"No, I didn't, but it's OK, we can see with yours," she said, adding. "But what will we do?"

I hesitated. Usually we watch the reports on the infeed at this time of night. Or maybe the picture stories--but without power, all we could do was use my wife's smartBox for media consumption. "Let's watch something on your smartBox."

"Oh, OK." She found her bag and withdrew her smartBox from it. She tried to reach the infeed tree outside, but it just sat there and bricked. "It's not working."

"No energy to the infeed trees in the area," I surmised aloud.

"What are we going to do, Jim?"

I decided that she might still be a little shaken from the "storm" that was still going on outside, so I suggested she just go to bed.

"I'll stay up in case energy authorities need any help."

"Help?"

"Yeah, I was going to go up to the topfloor to see if our building was being fixed. You know, for work. I need to report on something--you know, writing samples?"

"Oh, honey--can't you just stay inside? I'd feel safer."

"OK," I said, understanding her concerns. I wasn't sure what kind of mess I'd find on the topfloor. Those explosions seemed huge.

Ande went to bed and I sat down to write this.

As I sit here now, I'm feeling the odd urge to go up there regardless.

-Jim

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

New Earth City, 21 July Entry 2

Sorry for the delay in my second entry. Moving to a new station can be hectic, tiring and even surprising. Even when you think you've experienced enough in life, life still manages to open the airlock on you from time-to-time.

My wife and I got to NEC a few month ago--19 May, to be exact. The trip from Angels Station went amazingly smoothly, considering we were uprooting our entire life on Angels to come here. We decided to leave the west quad of the ring because my wife got job here. Of course, it helped that everything was getting more expensive in Angels. Energy taxes are through the ceiling and we couldn't afford to finance our own panels. Sure, there are still taxes when you own, but interest payments on the financing is only slightly cheaper than just paying the taxes in the first place.

Then there's the whole thing with everybody owning their own vehicle there. It's like no ever sees the old monorail tracks all around the station--evidence that Angels Station residents didn't always need total freedom in transportation. Of course, energy taxes hit car owners, too.

Energy taxes.

Just makes me wonder why the West Quad Ring Government is so keen on them. The average 'aware' comment is to point out that government always makes money. So it taxes the thing people do most. In any place but the big stations (like NEC or any of the other city-stations) energy taxes don't make a whole lot of money for the local RG. That was a big plus for us--we sold our flyrs and what we would have spent on panel maintenance, insurance, energy taxes and parking we spend on food. Of course, strangely, food prices have risen, too.

Then again, maybe it's not so strange. Energy taxes go up, so it's more expensive to get the food from the farming platforms on the Inner Ring. I don't know whose idea it was to put the inner ring so far away from where all the people live. At least some sub-stations around NEC have been repurposed into farming plats. Makes for cheap groceries once a month, but only if you get to the market early. If not, you'll miss all the fresh stuff.

You learn a lot when you move to New Earth City and you have to learn it fast if you want to survive here. It's been a hard couple of months. I should go into the details, but it's too recent and too annoying to repeat now. I need to put some distance between it and the frustration about it that I still feel.

Sometimes I think this place has already beaten me--but I've only just gotten here. Seems absurd, I know, but if all you know of NEC is what you see in media, you can't really know what I mean. Even tourists or commuters who come in from the sub-stations don't get it. NEC is an island unto itself. Unlike any other in the Ring.

OK, enough for now. More tomorrow. I may hear about a job. I'd say wish me luck, but to truth, I'm pretty sure I don't want it.

Oh yeah, haven't mentioned my name yet in this blog. It's Jim, Jim Conant. My wife is Ande, but she goes by her last name, which I'll mention only if it's important. Can't imagine why it would be.

-Jim