Let me tell ya the story of the princess, the wall, and the diamond king.
Periphery City wasn't always like this. Just thirty years ago, there were no hovercars and no robots, and there was no such thing as a wall. The sky was huge, back then. I remember standing on the roof of the university at dawn, lookin' out across the city and across the plains, watchin' the sun come up in a blaze of bright color. Maybe you can still see it, now, if you watch from the top of the wall.
Anyway.
The travelers had just discovered diamonds at Askew Mountain, and the king wasted no time with those mines. Truckloads of shiny rocks brought with them a better life for everyone: better food, better tech, better schools, safer streets. Top it off with the birth of the new princess, and the city was the happiest it could be.
Then, word came down that the little princess wasn't gonna make it. Born with half a heart; it was a miracle she survived being born. The city threw everything it had into keeping that little girl alive -- the surgeons, the sigil engineers, the rune mages, the mechanists. We lit candles and said prayers and filled the streets with flowers and garlands. The king and queen locked themselves up in the tower, but we couldn't blame 'em.
And then, there came that famous announcement: the princess was cured. She was gonna live a full life. You never saw parties like the ones that night. You never saw joy like the smiles on everyone's faces.
Until that night, nobody'd ever heard of the Grit.
They came in swarms. Ugly things. Strange things. Things out of nightmares. Things that shouldn't exist. It was like a wave of teeth and claws and glowing eyes coming at you from every direction. The king's guard fought the Grit in the streets, eventually drove 'em back across the plains. The Grit left strange magic behind them, though; wild roots and vines tore up roads and houses. Some of those trees still stand at the city outskirts, twisted through rock and metal.
The Grit came back again, and they'd multiplied. It seemed the more we fought them, the more there were. The tougher they were. The bigger they were. No matter how many weapons our diamonds bought, nobody felt safe. Nobody could sleep, out of fear of those things in the shadows. So the king built a wall.
Things've calmed down since then. The Grit sometimes rush the city even now, but all they can do is smack that wall a few times and run off defeated. The city folk have learned to feel safe again. We cleaned up, dusted off and went back to celebrating. Sure, there was a time after the king and queen passed on that we grieved again, and nobody'll forget what the diamond king did for us -- but ever since that little princess grew up and put on her father's crown, this great city's been as bright as ever.
And sure, maybe we don't see the sunrise so much anymore in Periphery. But there's noplace else I'd rather be.
The top of the wall-to-the-sky would've been a nice place to be this time of morning: on one side the sun was shining, a sweet breeze blew over the clear flowered plains, the clouds looked like boats and rabbits scudding across a sea of blue; on the other side, the city stretched out in colorful chaos, like a vast shimmering bowlful of towers and bridges drenched in an artist's paint accident. The queen's palace stood bright and high at the center of it all, its curious curves and spirals shining white, strange and beautiful over the city, like a beacon of hope and happiness.
"Move your fat lazy asses, ladies!"
The top of the wall-to-the-sky would've been a nice place to be this time of morning, if only it weren't such a shit place to work.
Dazz popped a gum bubble, one fist on her hip and the other twitching at the trigger of a stun-gun. "The wall inspector's gonna be here any minute, and that mess from yesterday's still sittin' here. This beam's crooked! Who left this hammer on the cement mixer? If you think we're gonna skid by like last time, let me remind you that investigator's still here looking for any reason to throw the lot of you in prison. Again. Ethan, last warning, put your goddamn hard hat on! Emmitt, take out all those rivets and do it over, that's just sloppy work. Put your back into it! Look at Liam, he knows what he's doing. You got somethin' to say, Florence? What the hell kinda work is that? This is all wrong! Davis, get your head out of the clouds and keep your eye on these two -- at this rate we'll not only fail the inspection but half of you 're gonna get arrested for murder, and I'm not bailin' you out."
The little yellow service robot, named Chigger by the old foremen, whirred and dodged among the machines and piles of blocks, carrying a tray of glasses of cool water for the builders. Dazz snatched a glass as the robot passed, and for a weary moment she stared out across the plains. She hadn't slept much since Roger's death -- a freak accident, she was confident, but that damned private investigator wouldn't get off her ass about it. The wall inspection was just icing on the cake.
She took a swallow of cool water, while somewhere behind her Chigger was beeping merrily and handing out glasses to the builders. It meant they'd all put down their tools again and slack off, but she hoped Davis would take care of it while she caught her breath.
A massive cloud of startled birds flocked into the sky in the distance, out near the scar of the diamond mine. Dazz swallowed another gulp of water and held up her binoculars -- but all she saw were birds and trees, and then just trees. The birds billowed and flapped and swung toward the city in a dark glimmering wave; they skirted around the edge of the wall with an ominous noise of flapping and chirping, and dispersed into the distance.
Dazz stared at that spot by the mine for awhile, curious to see what could have spooked all the birds out of a ten-mile radius -- but eventually she put the binoculars down and forgot about it. They had an inspection to pass, and she couldn't afford to lose a single one of these dimwit builders.
Periphery City wasn't always like this. Just thirty years ago, there were no hovercars and no robots, and there was no such thing as a wall. The sky was huge, back then. I remember standing on the roof of the university at dawn, lookin' out across the city and across the plains, watchin' the sun come up in a blaze of bright color. Maybe you can still see it, now, if you watch from the top of the wall.
Anyway.
The travelers had just discovered diamonds at Askew Mountain, and the king wasted no time with those mines. Truckloads of shiny rocks brought with them a better life for everyone: better food, better tech, better schools, safer streets. Top it off with the birth of the new princess, and the city was the happiest it could be.
Then, word came down that the little princess wasn't gonna make it. Born with half a heart; it was a miracle she survived being born. The city threw everything it had into keeping that little girl alive -- the surgeons, the sigil engineers, the rune mages, the mechanists. We lit candles and said prayers and filled the streets with flowers and garlands. The king and queen locked themselves up in the tower, but we couldn't blame 'em.
And then, there came that famous announcement: the princess was cured. She was gonna live a full life. You never saw parties like the ones that night. You never saw joy like the smiles on everyone's faces.
Until that night, nobody'd ever heard of the Grit.
They came in swarms. Ugly things. Strange things. Things out of nightmares. Things that shouldn't exist. It was like a wave of teeth and claws and glowing eyes coming at you from every direction. The king's guard fought the Grit in the streets, eventually drove 'em back across the plains. The Grit left strange magic behind them, though; wild roots and vines tore up roads and houses. Some of those trees still stand at the city outskirts, twisted through rock and metal.
The Grit came back again, and they'd multiplied. It seemed the more we fought them, the more there were. The tougher they were. The bigger they were. No matter how many weapons our diamonds bought, nobody felt safe. Nobody could sleep, out of fear of those things in the shadows. So the king built a wall.
Things've calmed down since then. The Grit sometimes rush the city even now, but all they can do is smack that wall a few times and run off defeated. The city folk have learned to feel safe again. We cleaned up, dusted off and went back to celebrating. Sure, there was a time after the king and queen passed on that we grieved again, and nobody'll forget what the diamond king did for us -- but ever since that little princess grew up and put on her father's crown, this great city's been as bright as ever.
And sure, maybe we don't see the sunrise so much anymore in Periphery. But there's noplace else I'd rather be.
The top of the wall-to-the-sky would've been a nice place to be this time of morning: on one side the sun was shining, a sweet breeze blew over the clear flowered plains, the clouds looked like boats and rabbits scudding across a sea of blue; on the other side, the city stretched out in colorful chaos, like a vast shimmering bowlful of towers and bridges drenched in an artist's paint accident. The queen's palace stood bright and high at the center of it all, its curious curves and spirals shining white, strange and beautiful over the city, like a beacon of hope and happiness.
"Move your fat lazy asses, ladies!"
The top of the wall-to-the-sky would've been a nice place to be this time of morning, if only it weren't such a shit place to work.
Dazz popped a gum bubble, one fist on her hip and the other twitching at the trigger of a stun-gun. "The wall inspector's gonna be here any minute, and that mess from yesterday's still sittin' here. This beam's crooked! Who left this hammer on the cement mixer? If you think we're gonna skid by like last time, let me remind you that investigator's still here looking for any reason to throw the lot of you in prison. Again. Ethan, last warning, put your goddamn hard hat on! Emmitt, take out all those rivets and do it over, that's just sloppy work. Put your back into it! Look at Liam, he knows what he's doing. You got somethin' to say, Florence? What the hell kinda work is that? This is all wrong! Davis, get your head out of the clouds and keep your eye on these two -- at this rate we'll not only fail the inspection but half of you 're gonna get arrested for murder, and I'm not bailin' you out."
The little yellow service robot, named Chigger by the old foremen, whirred and dodged among the machines and piles of blocks, carrying a tray of glasses of cool water for the builders. Dazz snatched a glass as the robot passed, and for a weary moment she stared out across the plains. She hadn't slept much since Roger's death -- a freak accident, she was confident, but that damned private investigator wouldn't get off her ass about it. The wall inspection was just icing on the cake.
She took a swallow of cool water, while somewhere behind her Chigger was beeping merrily and handing out glasses to the builders. It meant they'd all put down their tools again and slack off, but she hoped Davis would take care of it while she caught her breath.
A massive cloud of startled birds flocked into the sky in the distance, out near the scar of the diamond mine. Dazz swallowed another gulp of water and held up her binoculars -- but all she saw were birds and trees, and then just trees. The birds billowed and flapped and swung toward the city in a dark glimmering wave; they skirted around the edge of the wall with an ominous noise of flapping and chirping, and dispersed into the distance.
Dazz stared at that spot by the mine for awhile, curious to see what could have spooked all the birds out of a ten-mile radius -- but eventually she put the binoculars down and forgot about it. They had an inspection to pass, and she couldn't afford to lose a single one of these dimwit builders.