Stinky dark gray wisps from the tall smokestacks of the metallurgical factories envelop the lower district. They obfuscate the surrounding shacks, the railroad tracks and the filthy streets of Fumedge like a thick veil — arms of a protective mother who wishes nothing more but to aid her wayward children.
Ant-sized, unrecognizable figures emerge left and right from the slow-burn toxic fog produced by the massive factories. These brass giants work tirelessly day and night, people coming in and out in three shifts. This is where the carriages, gears and multiple metal parts are created, that are later on exported to Lighthaven.
Lighthaven. A dream come true, for some. Located just above Fumedge, and kept floating thanks to the ingenious macro turbines. For the most part, it's all any Fumedger can talk about.
Ooh, la-di-da, everyone runs their mouths about Lighthaven's precious clean air and their stupid fancy outdoorsy Solarium. Their posh chariots, their fashionable dresses, their garden-grown healthy food.
"Bah. Sister city me arse." I swear, wiping the annoyin' sweat droplets off my grimy forehead.
"What was that?" A sweet nightingale voice chirps behind me.
"Nothin', Mar." I flash a smile at my best friend. "Come on, let's jus' keep climbing." After adjusting the gasmask tighter on my nose, I peer forth at the rest of a garbage mountain.
This is the one of the tallest landfills in Fumedge. Over the years, decades or perhaps even centuries, it has decidedly grown to miraculous twenty meters in height.
On other days, all dem junkyard pewter cups, broken plates, reeking worn-out shoes riddled with holes would mean a scavenger feast — smelly goods that I could barter later on for an unfair price.
Today, they are just an obstacle.
I click the brass buttons of my knee-high raw leather Exoboots. The sparks in their heels surge with obedience, reacting to my touch. I kick off, landing spectacularly on the top of the pile in one giant, elegant leap.
"Hey!" Mariposa giggles from down below. "That's cheating, Veda."
"Not if you use all resources you have at yer disposal. Come on up, slowpoke!" I tease as I remove the blasted gas mask.
Down there, the mask serves as a solid protection from the thick, choking billows of chem exhaust and carcinogenic miasma residues of diesel soot gasworks factories. Up here —'tis just a bothersome burden.
As I inhale large, greedy gulps of unpolluted air, I marvel at the vast space above us.
The child-shaped clouds race across the blue blue sky, throwing around a blazing ball of fire in an eternal game of catch.
"Whoa." Mar whispers beside me, her gasmask in one hand, our lunch in the other. "It's quite something."
"Nice getting above it all, innit?" I tug on the suspenders covering my dirty white shirt.
"Sure is." Mariposa hugs her light blue coat, as her matching color long skirt now flows free in the wind. "Far away from the noxious fumes. Now, how about some lunch?" She pats the empty spot beside her.
"Ye bet. I'm starving."
"Oh, no." Mariposa's grass-green, kind irises widen. "I forgot the can opener." She waves the two rations of canned beans.
"Pish posh. They don't call me no Wrench Wench fer no reason." I lower my hand to my grease stained flannel breeches, and dip it into one of the oversized pockets. "Ta-da!"
Moments later, I am devouring my share of cold canned food with fingers, not even bothering to remove my fingerless, tattered leather gloves.
Mariposa, of course, brought a spoon. As she eats, the pallid blue butterfly tattoo on her left cheek makes it look as if the etched insect is flapping its wings in utter bliss. After downing the contents in under a minute, I sigh and wipe me mouth with the sleeve.
YOU ARE READING
Gaslight Trials | The Wattys2023 Shortlister ✔️
Science Fiction| 𝟳𝘅 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗗 ·|| HUNGER GAMES x CINDER || ONC 2023 Honorable Mention Amidst the escalating unrest between the windborne utopian city of Lighthaven and its seedy, oppressed underbelly Fumedge, the Grand Duke of Lighthaven, Lucius Sextus, c...
