Random Kingdom
23-11-2005, 21:52
Cornia Eyrie sat down on the plush seat of his transport pod. Reaching for the drink cooler to his right, between the two passenger seats, he glanced outside at the adoring crowd outside. I might not have the same call to fame and power as the previous Rep, he thought, but at least my seat was won by the voice of the people, not by the actions of a liar and a mass murderer. And at least I'm not about to get murdered by my own father. He passed away five years ago. He sniffed at this wisp of sentiment, and then the familiar voice of Bryce, his usual chauffeur, commenced his journey.
He knew his destination, to confirm the blueprints for the spacedock that would be named after him, to ensure that the first pieces of the puzzle, the habitation quarters, were to the specification that the citizens of Random Kingdom were paying monolithic taxes for. But what struck him was the world outside his pod. He did not see the adoration he had seen back in Central Tower; he was astonished to see empty streets and highways. Hardly any other pods, not even articulated freighters near the Industrial District. He asked Bryce about the emptiness.
"Don't you know, sir?" he said in an accent akin to the English of two centuries and many kilometres away, "It is Acoran Smith II day, the second of Spacefare. I would have assumed that you would be inside celebrating today, not answering calls, sir?"
Cornia sighed. He had voted no on that proposal, out of jealousy and slight loathing of the late Acoran. Deserved to die, Cornia thought selfishly to himself, nothing but a paper tiger with a myth holding his feeble life together.
Outside, he saw the walls of Acoria, fifteen meters high, thick beige concrete, and the gate in front. It was locked, with a scrolling message on the marquee:
"Closed for renovations. Happy Acoran II Day!"
Cornia spat out of the window. Bryce swerved right onto the onramp for the perimeter highroad, moving into the lane for the institution. A blue pod sped down in the opposite direction, and someone threw a stone out of the window. It hit the rear window and narrowly missed Cornia.
"Jesus! What the hell?" exclaimed Cornia. He had never been attacked before in his ten-or-so years as Human Rep. He examined the rock and found it to be a human skull. The words "CORNIA EYRIE, YOU WILL DIE" were etched in the forehead. Eyrie, suspecting a joke, put it in the drinks cooler. Bryce ignored the events in the rear, the front of the pod being momentarily soundproofed akin to a 21st century black-cab. The pod entered a tunnel, where a neon sign proclaimed "To Subways, Underground Compounds and Prisons", with arrows pointing to three lanes. The pod moved into the empty middle lane, and proceeded on its journey.
It was nearly midday when the pod entered the parking lot of the institution. It entered a VIP parking system, where a set of clamps connected to the pod's specially designed sockets and fixed the pod into an elevator. Bryce reached out of his door and pressed a button on the side marked "To Laboratories". A laser shot out and read a metallic plate on the side, and confirmed Eyrie's identity. The pod began to ascend.
Eyrie paid the chauffeur his due, and a tip for the window damage, and walked over to Dr. Osman, who was surveying a model of Eyrie's spaceport - Eyria. After a few minutes, Eyrie left to call another transport, with a certificate of naming and a copy of the blueprints.
<Eyria is now in the construction phases. One of the fleet of transport ships is now nearing completion, and the crew have been selected.>
He knew his destination, to confirm the blueprints for the spacedock that would be named after him, to ensure that the first pieces of the puzzle, the habitation quarters, were to the specification that the citizens of Random Kingdom were paying monolithic taxes for. But what struck him was the world outside his pod. He did not see the adoration he had seen back in Central Tower; he was astonished to see empty streets and highways. Hardly any other pods, not even articulated freighters near the Industrial District. He asked Bryce about the emptiness.
"Don't you know, sir?" he said in an accent akin to the English of two centuries and many kilometres away, "It is Acoran Smith II day, the second of Spacefare. I would have assumed that you would be inside celebrating today, not answering calls, sir?"
Cornia sighed. He had voted no on that proposal, out of jealousy and slight loathing of the late Acoran. Deserved to die, Cornia thought selfishly to himself, nothing but a paper tiger with a myth holding his feeble life together.
Outside, he saw the walls of Acoria, fifteen meters high, thick beige concrete, and the gate in front. It was locked, with a scrolling message on the marquee:
"Closed for renovations. Happy Acoran II Day!"
Cornia spat out of the window. Bryce swerved right onto the onramp for the perimeter highroad, moving into the lane for the institution. A blue pod sped down in the opposite direction, and someone threw a stone out of the window. It hit the rear window and narrowly missed Cornia.
"Jesus! What the hell?" exclaimed Cornia. He had never been attacked before in his ten-or-so years as Human Rep. He examined the rock and found it to be a human skull. The words "CORNIA EYRIE, YOU WILL DIE" were etched in the forehead. Eyrie, suspecting a joke, put it in the drinks cooler. Bryce ignored the events in the rear, the front of the pod being momentarily soundproofed akin to a 21st century black-cab. The pod entered a tunnel, where a neon sign proclaimed "To Subways, Underground Compounds and Prisons", with arrows pointing to three lanes. The pod moved into the empty middle lane, and proceeded on its journey.
It was nearly midday when the pod entered the parking lot of the institution. It entered a VIP parking system, where a set of clamps connected to the pod's specially designed sockets and fixed the pod into an elevator. Bryce reached out of his door and pressed a button on the side marked "To Laboratories". A laser shot out and read a metallic plate on the side, and confirmed Eyrie's identity. The pod began to ascend.
Eyrie paid the chauffeur his due, and a tip for the window damage, and walked over to Dr. Osman, who was surveying a model of Eyrie's spaceport - Eyria. After a few minutes, Eyrie left to call another transport, with a certificate of naming and a copy of the blueprints.
<Eyria is now in the construction phases. One of the fleet of transport ships is now nearing completion, and the crew have been selected.>