Punk Faction

Daedalus (I)

I've always had a greater mind than intended for me. Always had a desire for a greater purpose than to just keep a city running.

I never wanted to drown in the street. I didn't want to end up like my mother. My mother whose lungs filled with water from the vapor in the air. My mother who drowned because she happened to be above a steam vent at the wrong time. My mother who had died like so many others.

I never understood why we couldn't pump the air out of the city. Supposedly it was against city ordinance. That all the air had to be kept to the city, specifically that district for each air pollution. Though I'm pretty sure the wind caused it to spread throughout the city.

The steam district had the worst of it though. You couldn't go a day without seeing someone drown because of a vapor cloud.

Supposedly we were supposed to leave problems like these up to the Atom and Cyber district. That way it could be discussed, then taken care of creatively.

The Steam District has been having this problems for too many generations. Nothing has been done about it.

"How's the plans coming?" Adam asked looking over from his desk.

My train of thought derailed, and I looked at the blueprints in front of me. The piping was wrong. Even though it might lead the steam out of the city, it was wrong. It'd explode from too much pressure. It'd need to be bigger. Maybe have exhausts that lead into houses providing heat.

"Awful," I responded looking over at his.

He would pipe it underground, exhausts leaking into the dirt. Though before I could look into it much more he crumpled up his paper and tossed it.

"Mine too," he admitted standing up to get another piece.

I did the same and began working again, piping exhausts into houses, and having escapes through the roof. I was about finished when the brass whistle blew for a shift change.

I rolled the blueprint up and stuffed it carefully in my leather bag, setting that in my cubby, and exchanging it for my tool belt. I walked down the hallway with Adam, carefully timing the billows of steam.

"See you after work," Adam called dispersing towards his area.

I nodded in agreement, heading towards the lower level of the factory. I glanced at all the gears twisting and turning, powered by the steam. All of them seemed to be working just fine.

A worker passed by me, his prosthetic arm ticking, blowing puffs of steam as he released pressure. I vaguely remember pulling bits of his arm out of the gear he'd caught it in. It was a marvel that he'd been able to afford the arm.

We had no insurance to compensate for injuries, which were almost unavoidable in this line of work. In fact I was missing a finger due to my wrench slipping and my pinky flying in between two gears.

I was about to start patrolling the area looking for minor fixes to take care of when a sudden gurgle of workers filled the hallway. Mean looks in their eyes. Some of them holding tools. I was fortunate to be shoved onto a gear, and not in between two of them.

I waited till the mass had dispersed before following. I had no idea what they were doing, but it looked like they were heading into trouble. Though I didn't expect I could do anything.

They passed the break room, so I slipped in and grabbed my bag and cane.

An intricate contraption indeed. Not one meant for walking support. Rather to be seen as a fashion statement, however not completely useless. I'd modified it to have a few extra capabilities. The brass pipe had the ability to extend with a click of a button residing on the bottom of an intricately designed skull of gears constantly ticking. Steam propelled in order to pack a punch if so needed. Originally three feet tall, it extends to a bow staff of six feet in order to match my height.

I slid on my leather tail coat and headed back out carefully catching up with the group, as to leave enough space between me and them. Not that it mattered once I made it on to the streets.

The stone lined paths were filled with people. Angry at one thing or another. The lack of insurance, the poverty left among the two lower districts, the common cases of drowning that our City officials would do nothing about.

Even now people were dropping as vents exploded with steam.

I made my way towards the front in order to keep a good eye for what was to come. It came with a growing discomfort of being in vicinity of so many people. Bodies pressed together as we pushed through the Diesel District.

A slight shiver as I thought of someone running a knife through my spine. It would be so easy to do so too. Not that anyone would have any reason to kill me.

I noticed the differentiation of houses between the two districts. Instead of copper and bronze structural support meant to withstand water like the Steam district, I saw brick structures. Held together by steel beams. They all were uniform and boring. At least you could customize your house in the steam district.

I imagined the insides as grey and bleak. It actually hurt my eyes to see this place. I guess that's how a military faction was supposed to look.  Uniform.

We'd almost made it to the Ray district when a cyber cop pulled up in the front of the group. His hover bike acting as a barrier between us and the next district. The two hover cars coming down the hill would be though.

They're lights were blazing. Switching back and forth between the red and the blue. Like raspberries and blueberries.

I decided that the center of the crowd was no longer the best place for me to be. I made my way to the sidewalk which was grey, bleak, and flat.

The police cars stopped in front of the crowd, resting on the ground. Cracks formed underneath. Had the cars locked into place.

I'd never seen the Cyber faction's cars up close before. I'd only caught glimpses of the police cars zooming through our streets.

They were flat, seemingly meant to fly through the air with ease. Like a futuristic bullet. The way the body contoured. It was very bricky design.

From the vehicle an officer, who appeared to be half-rats, stumbled out.

The suits the police wore were riddled with tech I probably couldn't understand. Their faces we covered by a tight helmet that almost made them seem robotic.

The bike cop had stepped off of his bike and was seemingly using it for cover. There stood five guards between us and the next district. Though their numbers were small, I had no real desire to go against them. Not armed with just a cane anyway.