I see faces both new and old. Like the usual group of quirky student passersby that always talks about this guy who’s good at sports in their class, this oddball couple wearing their usual couple attire that have prints of both their faces on each other’s shirts, even that old man who usually sits by this broken appliance mechanic’s shop across the street from where I usually set up and play. I don’t know any of them personally, but it feels like they’re family.
The summer afternoon was burning through my blazer and my performance today lacked its usual kick of enthusiasm. There was something amiss. Maybe the tone or a key I got wrong. I thought I had etched my heart into this song I’m singing, but it lacks in something, conviction, or something even more, something I can’t find right now.
“I’ll call it a day,” I thought to myself.
I gathered my belongings and put my guitar back in its case. Then suddenly I felt someone standing behind me while I was collecting my things.
“Hey,
Riza. You seem out of it today,” A raspy voice told me.
I turn around and see Mrs. Miyawaki with her usual delightful smile carrying her cat Hiko. Sandra Miyawaki is a 67-year-old lady who sells fruits by the wet market. Her husband is an old seaman from Ironite City but later moved here to Ironhart when they got married.
“Hi, Mrs. Miyawaki, it’s this heat. It’s a real killer.” I said to her.
“Yes, the heat has been scorching as of late. Be sure to drink lots of fluids.” She thoughtfully replied.
“Yes, will do! You take care as well!”
“Better rush home, it's getting late. Say hi to Mrs. Inara for me!”
I waved goodbye to the good Missus as it was getting darker. I can see the sky turning red blushed with orange. The wind was slowly cooling down the now busier street. People start to pile up the sidewalk and the air starts to fill with the smell of food infused with cigarette smoke as Fifth Avenue slowly turns into a food festival.
I look around and become amazed by the transformation of my surroundings. Everything was getting livelier by the minute and everyone’s busy and angry demeanors turn into smiling and giggling faces. Fifth Avenue is highly regarded around the city by all the Sevenites, also known as the Food Palace at Nightfall, located in Sector 7. When the clock strikes six, it turns into a festival of food and music. I’ve never seen it before; I only heard the stories from our neighbors who work and stay out late.
They say that every kind of delicacy you can think of that Sevenites can afford are available here; from pork skewers to your measly cheesy fries, it has everything you can buy for under 100 Swarfs. People ranging from shopkeepers to desk clerks around the city gather here every night to hang out and grab a drink or have dinner before heading home. It’s a norm, one of which people look forward to doing every day.
As calm as it seems, Ironhart City is one of the busiest cities in Fraction Seven. The city boasts a record breaking 120,000 Unites per capita, equal to 1.85 million Swarfs which is almost half of the GDP the whole Fraction receives. Unites is basically the Gilded Region's united currency while Swarfs are Ironhart City's local currency.
This resulted in the deployment of the Regal Guard of Iron, the colony's strongest military, to guard the ins and outs of the city. This was followed by the proclamation of Republic Act 328 by the country’s former president, Juan Lopez-Bard under the guidance of the Social Advisors from Extol; “An act that establishes the safety of business and higher learning to continue the propagation of abundant output within Ironhart City.” The proclamation specifically states that:
“Ironhart City, its wealth and its people are to be guided by the firm hands of this nation’s leaders. To assure the highest quality of livelihood and its businesses, there will be a creative, legislative, and informational barrier that of which secures the people from any form of malice or ill-intent endangering the quality of living and business output within the perimeters of the city. All subsequent orders by the national government to assure the safety of the city are to be considered true and just unless stated otherwise by the court of law.”
It’s been over 50 years since the bill was passed, and this city has been forever transformed. In this city, everyone is required to be diligent and to uphold a high standard of quality and performance required by the government. Be it the test scores or work performance, everyone is expected to perform well in their respective roles in society. If you don’t perform well enough within the standardized rating scale, you’ll be sent to The Forgery, a highly secured facility dedicated to Realigning individuals that lost their path in leading a proper and productive life.
It all seems like hard work for sure but rumors are that, once you reach the top, when all is said and done, the government chooses the best of the best in the six major fields and gives them the opportunity to live in the lap of luxury. The six fields being, Arts & Literature, Business & Economics, Mass Media and telecommunications, Science and Technology, The Service Corps, and Education. Each one is a necessity to a society that needs skilled individuals that have the highest form of knowledge and intellect as to ensure that the city has a strong and productive society.
The goal is Illustrado Heights, the land of tomorrow. It boasts top notch security and amenities ranging from 5-star restaurants to state-of-the-art facilities for healthcare and wellness. The place is surrounded by a wall of marble that spans 10 kilometers. Its sidewalks garnished with limestone and houses so massive it makes our house looks like a bathroom. It is the pinnacle, the gem of the city, basically, heaven on earth.
This goal creates pressure that builds up in everyone and takes a hard toll on their work performance, so small events like the Food Palace, even just for a couple of hours, bring utmost joy to everyone. It’s basically a little side-tracking from the tough journey every day on the road to Illustrado. But ironically, the place that people find most peace in is one of the poorest places in the city. The government has treated Fifth Avenue as a small neutral ground to let people blow off steam. They do not support this neighborhood financially and only does maintenance whenever needed. The security here is far less structured and to a point, too lenient than other places around the city.
As I stroll along the lively environment, the sights and sounds fill my head with ideas. The cool night breeze overlapping the aroma of fresh food, the noisy barbaric laughter along with the smooth sounds of ambient music from different food stalls, this feeling, this atmosphere, this beautiful scenery that fills my heart with peace. I want to share it, this experience.
All the stress and anxiety from work and school slowly glides away from the bliss that everyone around me spreads. My heart slowly fills with emotions that want to burst out. This is the first time I was out this late. The first time I saw the dirty street turn into a living, breathing, beautiful monster that it is. With all the excitement I feel, I hear my watch sound.
I dash through the crowd as fast as I can. I almost forgot about the student curfew. I can’t reach home by 8PM if I don’t leave right now. I felt the sudden burst of sadness build up inside me as I wanted to experience this beautiful atmosphere even more.
As I reach the train station, the sounds from the night market grow fainter. I fall in line and look around. The lights have become plain white unlike the dancing and flashing lights in the Food Palace. The sounds from people tapping around on their phones fill the surroundings, the beeping sounds of the toll machines as Transport Passes are being swiped, the voice of the public announcer urging the people to stay in line while waiting for the next train. All these sounds are uninspired, uninspired like my daily routine.
The train stops in front of me, everyone was appropriately lined. The line guards were stationed by each doorway to assure that we’re all neatly filed by the door. I stand by the sidebars near the doorway so I can easily get out. For a short person like me, a train ride home in this tight crowd is an everyday battle of pushing and shoving my way out of the train cart. People start piling up behind me and everyone was chest to chest; the train filled with all sorts of odors ranging from disgusting to horrifying.
The train starts moving and I feel more at ease. I close my eyes for a minute and felt time slip by. I look out the window and see the towering walls of iron. The night sky was cut in half as we enter the tunnel of the terminal and the moonlight slowly disappears as we reached the Settlement platforms.
The Settlement is the place where all Sevenites live. It’s a huge suburban complex that’s surrounded by a large iron wall that barricades it from the outskirts of the city alongside sector’s ten and eleven’s outer perimeter. In its center is a long flowing river that separates the northern perimeter and the southern perimeter of the Settlement.
The locations inside the Settlement are divided into 10 sub-frames that separate each household’s social hierarchy. The families that live in each sub-frame correspond to the Household Rank attained by each member of that specific household. Each frame is accessible by gates; guarded by Gate Arbiters and frame-guards that secure each checkpoint.
Household Rank is determined by the Labor Power Output Meter. The LPOM is designed by the government to urge each household to become better at their tasks. Each age group have designated tasks that they have to accomplish on a monthly basis. The task criteria’s differentiate from children age groups of four to seven years old, eight to 12 years old. 13-18 pre-adolescent age groups, and 19 and above adolescent age groups. Each task is specifically catered to one’s skillset; be it arts or sciences or music or the like, each task is assigned to help further the development of each individual living in Ironhart City.
Upon reaching a certain criterion provided by the Local Assessment Bureau, they grant each individual to have the opportunity to enhance their ranks or grant them a specific wish to help them in the further development of their skills.
I feel the train speed reduce as we slowly reach the transport terminal. As we reach the platform, I see a crowd of people rowdily pushing and shoving on the waiting lines. It seems that a fight broke out. People had their hands on other people's throats while others had their clothes torn and tattered; bruises filled their arms and faces. The train halts before the platform, but the doors remain closed. We then hear a public service announcement that alarmed everyone.
“Attention, passengers. Currently, there is a small commotion happening at waiting lines three to five. We will be having an emergency stoppage while we wait for the Ward Smiths to arrive and take a handle of the situation at hand. With these in mind, our operations will have a ten-minute delay from our usual schedule.”
Everyone starts murmuring around me. The delays are causing a panic because of the time constraints. The Settlement gates close at 12 midnight. The walk path leading from the second to the fifth gate takes about 15 to 20 minutes by foot depending on how many people are waiting in line in each gate checkpoint. Current time is 7:17 PM I'm starting to feel the pressure myself as I need to get home by 8 PM, everyone is getting worked up, some even saying that they would risk getting hurt rather than being held up by the Gate Arbiters.
Panic is starting to take over my mind as well. I remember my mother having told a story once, she had been held up by these two thugs from the back alleyway before she reached the fifth gate checkpoint. She fought them and got half of her face beaten.
Upon reaching the checkpoint, she was held in detention for about 15 hours. She defended herself and pleaded her situation but to no avail.
“Discipline is key. If you have left on time or become aware of your surroundings you would not have been mugged and beaten,” The head arbiter said to her.
Tap…tap…tap…
Sweat starts flowing down my cheeks as I remembered this story. I keep tapping my heels out of anxiety. My nose starts to moisten, my lips turning redder each minute that passes by as I keep biting on them in my panic. Thoughts spiral through my head as I think about all the possible outcomes of me being held up for questioning. I clutch the straps of my bags tighter as my whole body shakes in fear of being held up by the Gate Arbiter for Time Negligence. This would be my first time ever and I’m not sure how to act when that happens.
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