walky3
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| Joined: 26 Nov 2008 |
| Total Posts: 1415 |
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| 31 Aug 2012 03:19 PM |
# The Year 3000 **Introduction** Silversand Bay may sound like some beautiful seaside location, but it wasnt, atleast not anymore. Bright blue waves which would once have gushed up onto the sand now violently cracked against a filthy, scratched stone platform like a whip. The dirty water which had once-upon a time reflected a cloudless blue sky, now reflected the new gloomy grey sky spattered with polluted black clouds which always seemed to be there. Moving up over the miserable waves a dark, heavyily industrialised city lay, surrounded by tall, evil looking, black metal walls. The 'city' had a much greater resemblace to a collection of giant, deadly machines, slowly pumping and pounding the pitch black smoke up into the stormy sky.
A closer look to the machines would reveal workers, thousands of them each wearing a flurecant orange vest while they buzzed round the smoking metal monsters like busy bees. Silversand Bay was divided into four square districts, making up one big square. Each district is seperated by a cruel looking barbed wire fence stretching up over 50m high with solid electronic gates dotted about it. The districts were: Housing, Factory, Storage and the Trading Station. Housing was not the proper word to describe the Housing district, sky high, grotty apartment buildings would have been a more realistic description. Tall and thin buildings reached up into the sky, almost touching the endless black clouds. Each tiny square floor would be home to up to six workers who slept in bunkbeds, furniture varied but was always cheap and well worn. The only exception from these tacky apartments were the five cabins owned by the citys Overlord and his four Generals. The Factory district was even more monsterous than the Housing district, massive, long steel buildings which constantly echoed the grinding and hiss of powerful machines, drilling down into the ground, and turning valuable ore into power which was burnt and used or conpressed into a liquid form and sent away. The Storage district contains serveral metal boxes and structures holding a large selection of cargo from factory repair parts to food and water storage and even weaponry. Access to the area is rare and when someone did have access theyd be strictly monitored, a blink wouldnt go unspotted by countless CCTV cameras and Law troopers. The final Trading Station district is the only way out of this dark city, yet leaving through it is not allowed unless granted by the Overlord. The station is used to connect Silversand Bay to other towns and citys spread across the wastelands of the current day and present future however, the only Silversand Bay residents to regularly see these sights were the train crew and its guards. It was like a prison, a prison your born into and never leave where your only achievment is to survive.
**Chapter 1** Kione 89975SB fiddled hurriedly with the water pump on one of the machines, cold water must be pumped into the drill to stop it from overheating however, this was quite a tricky job considering the room was as hot as an oven. Each metal surface was scolding to touch like a black car which had been out in the sun too long. Steam poured of every factory drill, the room stank of the sweat of the many workers struggling to keep going in the unbearable, scorching temperature. Ore was sorted from excess rock inside the metal drills and then loaded into green, corroded handcarts which were wheeled to the only other type of machine in the factorys. The compressor would crush the rough dark blue ore to liquid and pour it out into tanks the size of large dustbins. These were places on more handcarts and rolled away by the slaves that were called workers.
Kione was a quite common name in the current time. Residents of Silversand Bay were not allowed a surname and were instead issued with a working number, therefore they could easily be identified in the many computer databases. Each unique working number was tatooed on the forarm of every factory employee aswel. 89975SB meant that Kione was the 89975th human of Silversand Bay to be born into work after the new database and ID rules had been inforced. It was roughly 200 years ago that the law was inforced. The SB on the end of Kiones work number stated that he was from Silversand Bay meaning he could be identified by anyone as a machine worker from Silversand Bay.
Water gushed through the water cooling pipe as Kione sighed with relief, if one didn't do their job quickly enough a beating was certain. Due to the massive amount of workers the system could easily tollerate deaths for lax employees. Most of the men in the Bay had factory jobs, yet about a tenth of them would be employed into the Law Order, a strict police-like force who would keep everyone inline. Law troopers were brutal and merciless, if they werent theyd be simply exchanged for an eager factory labourer. Troopers were ordered to regularly perform beatings and punishments to any, underperforming individual, meaning it was in your best interests to try your hardest at the factory. Unlike the luminous orange jacket the slaves or the factory wore, law troopers were dressed in a smart white and red uniform, which visably consealed body armour underneath. Glinting at the hip of every law trooper was a horrific looking knife which curved up at the end into a very pointy spike, because of this the blade was often nicknamed Sabertooth. Guns and other more advanced weaponry was around but it was not carried by everyday troopers, whos role was to inflict pain and terror but not to kill (unless they got carried away of course).
After another two hours rushing around, shifting carts and repairing pumps and gauges Kione trooped out with all the other men as the night shift rushed in to continue the work. As the evening shift, which included Kione, exited the main factory room they shifted into a single file line and passed by the reward hatch on their way out. Silversand Bay had no shops or money system atall therefore, the only way to get any kind of goods was through a job. Poor supplys were packed into a transparent plastic bag and given to each factory employee after his six-hour shift. The contents of the bags were always of low quality nevertheless, it was the only way to get supplys so what else could the tired and used men do? Each bag would contain food such as; bread, beans, dried fruit and if you were lucky some canned meat. They would also hold two small bottles of water that had to be used for washing and drinking. Some plastic bags would have torn clothes and other misc items, the best of which so far had been soap.
At last Kione reached the booth and the trooper behind the window scanned him with a lazy glance, before handing over a bag. Kione rushed out hurriedly and started to make his way towards the district border to his appartment, passing by other exhausted workers criticly describing work and rumaging through their bags. Looking through his own Kione saw two bottles of water, a crispy bread bun, a discustingly mouldy slice of cheese and, to his delight, a tiny bar of soap. It may not seem much but the miniscule golden bar was diamonds to a sweaty drill labourer. Suddenly Kione felt a hand grip his shoulder, twisting round he made out the round, red bearded face of another man. The guy had a great height yet was not lanky like alot of the starved souls living here. His eyes were black and beady and bored into Kione like the drills they spent so much time with. He resembled a fat, ginger bear. After the initial shock of the strong mans looks, his stench hit Kione like a freight train, knocking him back. It was uncommon for anyone to not stink after twelve hours of solid work and basicly no higene, but this large sod was something different.
Taking a step back Kione stared at the ugly, ginger man and scowled. "What do you want?" The bearded man grinned to reveal several black and several missing teeth, he pointed at the soap. "Yeah I can see you need it," Kione laughed cockily, "but unfortunatly for you, this came in my bag, not yours." Growling like the bear he was the redhead took a step forward, baring his rotten teeth. Kione took a step back, thrusting the bar of soap deep into the carrier bag. "Don't like to talk? Whats your name?" The bear glared at his prey with those fearsome black eyes. When he did speak, it was more of an angry growl. "I am called Bruvio." "Well, Bruvio," smirked Kione, "I think I'd like to keep this, if youd scoot away now." There was a reason for Kione's confidence against the bully, and they both knew it. They were still within the fenced area of the Factory district and while on a work zone they were always being watched over by law troopers. If Bruvio attacked Kione here the stern troopers would cut off his head and parade it all round the city. Once they had crossed the border to the Housing district the law didn't give a crap what went on between citizens. Bruvio was big and heavy, Kione noticed, although he would obviously hold the advantage in a fight, a dash from the borderline didn't suit his physique nonetheless. Turning away Kione tossed the decayed cheese away and, once again, started the small hike to the border, mildly aware of the bears thudding paws along behind.
The trip went by alot quicker than usual, probably due the beast stalking him. Upon approaching the gate, Kione turned to see Bruvio still standing there with his stupid, rotten leer. Tutting Kione glanced at the guard tower over looking the gate, turned round and briskly started walking into the shadows of a hundred appartment buildings, once he'd turned behind one he started a sprint. His place was only quater of a mile away then again, he had spent six hours non-stop labouring. Looking back Kione saw the ginger bear had also started to run, many of the other factorh Y employees laughing at them as they sped down another murky street. Kiones feet ached, his thighs burned, equally did his lungs. The human race had evolved alot tougher over a thousand work years nevertheless, it was not immortal. Panting Kione shot down winding street after winding street battling on against his own mental strength to keep going. Each street was dark and gloomy, a depressing fog seemed to swish around his ankles like tentacles. Puddles of urine and sometimes even blood littered the pathways, often accompanied by decaying food that even the starving locals could not eat and occasionly ripped garments and a body. Rats and flys were even more overpopulated than people in this dark, forboding part of the city. Wheezing, he reached his own apartment building, it was slightly smaller than the average height containing only five floors, Kione was the top one. Dashing up all the stairs Kione crashed through the room door and slammed it shut, bolting it with the rustly silver bolt along side it. Opening his eyes he saw the whole room gawping at him. |
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