The Habitats

Chapter 3

It began as a whisper, a rumour slipping through the cracks in the skyscrapers that pierced the grey skies of the Earth's wealthiest cities. The planet was changing. Resources were dwindling, extreme weather swept across continents, and overcrowding had grown into a crisis no one could ignore. For years, the rich and powerful claimed it was under control, the planet still habitable for "all who wished to call it home." But behind the glass towers and fortified walls, the elite knew the truth: Earth was breaking, and it could no longer sustain everyone.

They gathered in the Council Hall, a gleaming bastion of wealth perched on a mountain as though it was Mount Olymus. Inside, rows of delegates in tailored suits and embroidered robes sat in sombre silence, watching as holographic projections filled the room with images of Earth's rapid decline. The Council—the world's ruling class, its richest families and corporate overlords—had convened to discuss the fate of billions.

Dr. Imari Lennox, head of Environmental and Strategic Planning, approached the centre podium. Her face was etched with exhaustion and something else—reluctant urgency. "Honoured councillors," she began, her voice echoing off the pristine walls, "our environmental forecasts show a devastating pattern of resource exhaustion. Food, water, clean air—all are vanishing faster than we can replenish. If we continue at this rate, Earth will be inhospitable within the decade."

A murmur rose, rippling through the assembly. They'd known things were bad, but Dr. Lennox's projections left no room for doubt. Earth's collapse was not just a possibility; it was a mathematical certainty.

She continued, "Our cities' resource reserves are expected to last just long enough for our own survival, if we act quickly. But our current population is...unsustainable." She let the word hang heavy in the air, knowing its implications.

A councillor from the European League raised his hand, brow furrowed. "Surely there are measures we can take to curb consumption. Rationing, strict regulations—"

"We've already tried all that," Dr. Lennox interjected, her voice tense. "We're far past incremental solutions. It's time for decisive action."

The room fell silent, anticipation thick in the air. And then, General Marcus Holt—known for his strategic ruthlessness—spoke up. "We've been planning for this, haven't we? We need to focus our resources on those who truly matter to the future of Earth: our leaders, scientists, and investors. Those whose work will protect us, guide us. The only path forward is separation."

"Separation?" asked Councilor Young, a tech magnate from the Eastern Coalition, leaning forward. "Are you suggesting we...displace billions of people?"

"Precisely," General Holt replied, his tone icy and calculated. "We've already developed the orbital habitats. They were initially intended as luxury retreats for off-world mining, but they can be adapted to accommodate a substantial population. They're already outfitted to recycle air and water, support life indefinitely...for those who can manage a more 'self-sustaining' existence."

A hush fell over the council. The habitats—towering, rotating structures designed to float safely in Earth's orbit—had been hailed as humanity's next grand achievement, symbols of prosperity and scientific marvel. But the general's implication was clear: they wouldn't just be for exploration or leisure. They would become Earth's dumping ground, where the less fortunate could be "relocated."

Dr. Lennox looked from face to face, her gaze piercing. "You're suggesting we send billions of people into orbit—to live in habitats with limited resources, outside of Earth's protections. Are you prepared to manage the consequences? The inevitable uprisings? This isn't a decision we can simply...hide away."

General Holt smirked. "On the contrary, doctor, it's precisely the kind of solution we can hide. The poor will accept any chance to survive, even if it's far from Earth. We'll present this as an opportunity, a salvation from the devastation on the ground. A 'new beginning' away from the chaos here."

Councilor Young raised an eyebrow. "And what happens when they realise it's not a paradise?"

"By then," Holt replied, "we'll be safe within our fortified cities, with more than enough to sustain those who remain. Their voices will be out of earshot."

The council exchanged glances, some hesitating, others clearly moved by Holt's plan. They knew the planet's dwindling resources could not support everyone. Earth had to be preserved for the few who could afford to sustain it.

Another councillor spoke, her voice soft but filled with resolve. "If we proceed, we need to control the message. Frame it as a necessary transition—a chance for them to contribute to the long-term survival of humanity. Offer incentives. Give them hope."

Dr. Lennox turned away, struggling to hide her disgust. She knew what it would mean for those left behind in the habitats. It wouldn't be the first time society's most vulnerable were sacrificed to preserve those in power. But the decision was inevitable now; she could feel the council's resolve solidifying.

"This is Immoral!" She spoke, her voice cracking through the murmurs. "To decide the fate of millions without their say, without telling them the truth? It's disgusting!"

"Our people do not need the stress, they do not need to know about any of this!" Holt slammed his hand on the table in front of him. "Those who are useful to our cause, are the ones we have to prioritise. Be glad we are giving the less fortunate a chance to survive elsewhere and that we don't just kill them on the spot."

This caused the room to erupt into discourse. The majority was for it, agreeing with Holt. Very few were against it, arguing that they could figure out another way.

The head councillor, a man known simply as Magnus, raised his hand, silencing the room. "Let it be done," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "Send the message to every remaining nation, every city and township. Present this as a voluntary program. A means of survival, even prosperity, for those willing to contribute from above."

One by one, the council members nodded, each committing their vote to a future where the skies would divide the privileged from the abandoned.

"What happens when the people down here find out about your lies?" Dr. Lennox spoke up, "Surely they would not agree with your decisions." She held the side of the podium.

Magnus stood up, buttoning his blazer. "This decision is not for them to make. As Holt said, they do not need to know."

"You cannot banish billions! These are people, with futures, with goals and dreams!" Dr. Lennox argued.

"Enough, this decision is hard enough." Magnus' voice boomed. He looked at the guards by the door before nodding towards Dr Lennox. "Their futures may continue on the habitats. As for their dream, well they will have to remain dreams."

The two guards grabbed Dr Lennox dragging her away from the centre podium as she struggled against their hold.

"See that Dr Lennox be one of the first, put on the habitat. We cannot afford any liabilities," Magnus instructed as the doors slammed shut, the last thing being heard was the screams of protest from Dr. Lennox.

Magnus looked around the room,. "Anyone else have any objections?" The room was silent with fear. "Very well." Magnus fixed his sleeves. "Mark this day, November 27th 2783, The day of Separation. Send out the message, present this as voluntary."

Magnus walked towards the door before he looked back at the council. "But use force if necessary."