The Industrialist

Chapter 33: Sidetrack: Lost

Arcanium, borders of Oroz Continent, 500 miles East of Terrabitha

***

The man’s legs hung from a deep deathly chasm as he sat on the edge of a mountain cliff. The edge was a perfectly cut rock that would enable one to sit properly without sliding one’s thighs.

It was a perfect spot for him.

Half a mile below his feet was a sea of dark clouds. He could not even see beyond the expanse of the land, as dust particles prohibited him from seeing. However, his vision flew towards the horizon where blue skies above met the dark skies below.

He felt the cold air, fresh and clean without the mercy of filtration. Without the reach of MAF. All he could say was the sun was magnificent.

His comrades said that the polluted and radiated air seemed to have physical limits failing its reach beyond a certain level, hence, clean air above the dark cloud skies.

Probably the dust particles and the radiation they carried were heavy enough. Hence, density was the culprit.

Even after a few years of experiencing direct sunlight, still, the sight of it seems to be his first time. Even the sunrays hurt his eyes, they felt like a blessing from a supernatural omnipotent being.

The thought of darkness still haunts him and gives him nightmares as his thoughts linger longer.

’Damn you!’ He cursed inwardly. He cursed every day upon the sight of the dark sea of clouds. His curses were meant to no one in particular. He had forgotten why he cursed so much.

But it seemed right, felt right, the cursing. He should air out whatever that accumulates heavily in his chest, constantly, persistently, endlessly.

Hate. He knew it was hate. Or cancer. He was not sure.

He coughed. His throat experienced a slight sore. He was not used to the cold breeze. He inhaled and exhaled deeply every day like a lifeline. Without the fresh air, he would die. His body told him so.

Faint footfalls of soles against pebbles were nearing him.

’Hmpf,’ He sighed. ’It’s her again.’

"Doctor. Asexual propagation is a success!" The woman spoke with delight.

He did not answer at that. She knew that her statement was expected by the Doctor. He knew that she knew that.

’She is smart,’ The man smiled.

He revered the minds of the people of achieving positive results of the first Asexual propagation of a fruit-bearing tree. It was done before the Nuclear World War, however, not after that.

They tested a Mango tree seedling. Asexually propagating it would accelerate its fruit production.

He shook his head. But he had to leave.

"Let’s take a look shall we," He said as he finally turned his back from the sunset.

After a few steps, pressing deeper into the plateau, a large dome sat precariously at the center. He dragged his feet, like a child, against the Bermuda grass that heaved the mountain bed.

"Are you ok, Doctor?" The woman asked watching his childish behavior.

He smiled at the young woman.

’She grew so fast, the same age as him,’ He thought pondering the woman’s height.

"You seemed so quiet lately," The woman asked again.

"I am always quiet when I’m outside," He finally answered her. He had a heavy heart every time he strolled outside. Heavier every time the sun kissed the dark clouds.

"You never share why," she said again.

He shrugged at the statement.

’I know he is making a difference now. Sadly, he is always in danger. He should be here, with me,’ He thought as they continued to approach the dome.

Two large reinforced doors started to open, unpressurized. He almost missed what it felt like pressurized doors as they had in the surviving city. On the peak of Arcanium Mountain, there was no need. The air was uncontaminated.

His buddy, Greg, a geologist, explained the phenomenon to him why that particular peak had no contamination.

He admired the Geologist, too. They say he was the one who started the establishment of the camp. And everyone, including him, joined. But he was late.

He knew it was late. They were late.

The planet was beyond saving anymore. His project should have been the key to everything. But the thought of it clasped fear unto his soul.

"Thank you, Nina," The man mused and the woman smiled back.

As he entered with Nina, a burst of applause surprised him. His comrades were wearing their lab coats, all were facing him. Their smiles were authentic unlike what he had in the Corporation.

The scenery reminded him of home. In Bay City. When he was still a lowly Scrapper Scientist Tier 4. The warm applause grew louder, his tears were welling up his eyelids.

He smiled at them in return. He wanted to say something; however, he could burst into tears uncontrollably, embarrassing himself in front of many. They cheered for him. Secretly, the man was cheering for every one of them, as his gratitude towards his comrades was endless, invaluable.

"Project Nightfall is a success, Doctor. Thanks to you!

Hope?