Whose idea was it to build a city in the desert?
The dunes have been pushed out of the streets, however the flora placed to block their return has yet to reach maturity, and so every now and again, when the wind howls across the desert, they march their way back into the city.
Heather sighs as she notes the orange tide washing over the road leading to Vox on her tablet. Perhaps she should look into ways to accelerate the development of the wind breaks… certainly one exists, she thinks she even heard about an approach that might work in a recent lecture on modern agricultural engineering. There is so much to catch up on. The higher you build, the greater the weight upon the foundations, and the people of Principality have ambitions to build high indeed.
For every innovation integrated into the city’s infrastructure there comes yet loftier goals to support. All solvable problems of course, but she is only one woman, and liberated from a century of stagnation those who so cunningly worked to preserve the Underground now turn their ingenuity to raising it up.
Most of them, anyway.
Some, fortunately, still keep a watchful eye on the bones on which they build. Some have not forgotten a simple truth, easily lost amidst the glamour of the future of technological plenty they have found themselves in:
Little was ever achieved on an empty stomach.
“Kaaaaaate, give me back the receiver!”
“Excuse me! I’ve hacked your broadcast equipment! I’m installing some more modern security software, hope that’s ok!? Glad I got here first! Really, this rig has got to be over a century out of date!”
“Hey! We’ve been waiting for you folk to get connected! Are you accepting visitors? We’d love to come take a look around!”
“Hey, you folk haven’t heard like the last century of music right? Here’s my most recent album!”
“We understand that the area you inhabit is within the region we currently administer, and that you would like to assume responsibility for the administration of the area formerly known as Principality. If it is acceptable we would like to dispatch a delegation to negotiate the future of our relationship with your community.”
“You guys need any help? Your situation sounds pretty desperate from what we’re hearing! Is it true you don’t even have toilet roll?”
“Valued employee DANE LAWRENCE. You are ONE HUNDRED AND TWO YEARS, FIVE MONTHS AND THREE DAYS overdue on submitting your self assessment form. We regret to inform you that your line manager has been notified. We urge you to submit your self assessment form ASAP in order to avoid the possibility of disciplinary action being taken. This is an automated message from the Principium Corporation, “Putting the Unity in the Scientific CommUnity”, employee orbital payroll server. If you are a volunteer in the Principium Corporation long term cryogenic suspension trial, we urge you to investigate whether the Principium Corporation is still a legal entity capable of maintaining its contractual obligation to compensate you. If there is no extant legal framework under which the Principium Corporation is obligated to compensate you, for example because of global thermonuclear war, we regret to inform you that any surviving stakeholders or their descendents will consider your contract null and void. Have a pleasant day!”
“Hello, my name is Cathrine Clef, and my grandmother worked for Principium. We were told that she had been killed in a gas explosion at one of their overseas facilities. I know this might be a long shot, but it is possible that she was one of those who disappeared in the cover up, she never was allowed to share where she was working, and if so I was wondering if I had any cousins who might still be alive?”
The first transmissions received at Vox when Heather Clef reconnected it to the communications array above ground