Chapter 1: The next step

The domed city of Argon is a marvel of engineering created in the dying days of the old regimes. Uninterrupted wars; the plundering of rapidly diminishing resources; and extreme weather events, had reduced most of the planet’s population to little more than scavengers and refugees, dependent on the largesse of the privileged few who controlled most of the Earth’s remaining wealth and resources. The ideas of democracy and freedom had been swept away by the unstoppable return of the medieval concept of feudalism. The wealthy elite became the new aristocracy, while the bulk of the population were reduced to modern day serfs; indentured to their local overlord from cradle to grave.

History doesn’t record exactly when the planet’s ruling elites decided to create huge domed cities like Argon. Possibly the domed cities simply evolved as the ravages of war, and the uncontrollable elements, destroyed wide swathes of land. Floods and wild fires herded those with the wealth and ability to move into defensible towns and cities. Those who lacked the means were abandoned to their fate. Hundreds of millions died. Taxes were directed solely towards protecting the new centres of population. Many old and famous towns and cities were left to the elements, or to the marauding armies who lived off the misery of others. Within a few decades, there was little trace of the old world. Even the rogue armies finally disbanded when it became too difficult to find food and supplies to service their rapacious needs.

We’re told that Argon is typical of the domed cities scattered around what is left of the inhabited world. Argon’s large central city houses about eighty thousand people. Access to the domed part of the city is strictly controlled, and no serf is allowed into the central city without a special permit. To live inside the domed centre requires wealth far beyond most people’s imagination. No city citizen ever dirties their hands doing menial tasks. Consequently, in order to service the needs of the new elite, nearly two hundred thousand people commute daily into the city from one of sixteen outer settlements. Most of the commuters are serfs who have purchased short term freedom from their settlement overlord. The commuting workforce provide all the essential services that keep the city operating from day to day. Labourers and house servants are in great demand, along with those who provide personal services ranging from hairdressing to sexual services.

Despite the strict rules that control our lives, we are generally a happy population, or so I am lead to believe. Our rulers constantly remind us that these days we have a steady supply of food, and that most settlements now boast their own medical centre, albeit with unqualified medics and very few drugs or medicines. New laws limiting a serf’s work hours to only sixty hours a week mean that we have more leisure time. None of this existed until as recently as eight years ago. I can remember the days when my family went without meals, and my parents’ reliance on dubious folklore remedies for dealing with ailments.