The Movement

Chapter Seven - Part 6

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Troy exited the cabinet complex, walking briskly to attend the six fifty train deportation. The sleek, white monorail car door slid open to allow his entry. The door slid immediately shut without a sound as soon as he sat on the gray cushioned seat. A hologram emerged on the floor mat near his feet.

“Hello, there,” welcomed the jovial fellow with a charming smile. “Welcome to CleanTrain, enjoy the quick ride!”

The holographic man disappeared as quickly as it emerged.

Troy did not feel the train moving. Only the rectangular, transparent windows to either side hinted any action as the blur of white windmills spun with immense speed and the gray tunnels zoomed with a streak of yellow lights every half-second. After several seconds, the jovial fellow reemerged.

“We hope you enjoyed your ride. Have a good day!” said the little man as Troy stepped out of the portal.

Once up the subway stairs, the walkway path was black, dotted heavily with dark gray circles. Troy did not attempt to avoid as he walked, as if they had no effect. As Troy approached the entrance to the manufacturing entrance, a personal hologram displayed his piezoelectric number:

339

As Troy passed through the rotating door, he noticed the ubiquitous transparent windows all the way up and around the ten-story building - photovoltaic cells surrounded each and every inch of window, powering the building with more than enough energy for the day. Once through the rotating door, he stood and stared inside the singular room. The room was much larger than he had anticipated. The massive room was occupied by hundreds of Youths working diligently at their craft, each assembling something before placing it on the conveyor belt. Each little conveyor belt led to a much larger one connecting to a giant funnel, seeming to go underground. High above the floor, near the ceiling a large engraving read:

RESPONSIBILITY. LOYALTY. PRODUCTIVITY.

One Youth paused for a moment to take a look at Troy. Troy approached this Youth, walking down the path, this too dotted with dark gray circles. It seemed nearly impossible to avoid stepping on one.

“Youth, what is your name?” asked Troy.

“My name is Ben. Benjamin Lincoln, sir,” he replied in a shrill voice.

“May I ask you what you are assembling?” asked Troy.

“We are assembling shoes, sir. Piezoelectric shoes,” replied Benjamin.

“What are you pasting there, on the bottom of that shoe?” he asked.

“This here, sir?” asked Benjamin, pointing to a small square in the middle of the soul. “This here is lead zirconate titanate patch, sir.”

“And why are you pasting that patch to the bottom of that shoe, Benjamin?” he asked.

“Because, sir, this patch is electric power with each step on the EnergyPath. It transfers positive energy to the battery as the friction from each step is captured,” he explained.

“That is very good, Benjamin. Keep it up, young man. You are an intelligent Youth,” said Troy as he turned and stood in front of the doorway.

The lift elevated him upwards until he arrived at the next level.

Just as before, he stood just inside the doorway, observing the scene. Again, the massive room was occupied by hundreds of Youths assembling manufactured goods. He stood by until he caught eye contact with one of them. A petite girl near the middle row of the left aisle peered up for just a moment. Troy headed her way.