No Way Up

The world is dying. No, actually, the world, this huge rock floating through space, is mostly fine. It is us who are writhing in agony. There is no hope anymore for life on Earth. The pollution made the air so dense people are trying to escape by taping rocket engines on their boats and the dreaded smog reach ever higher each month. People are willing to do anything, killing themselves at the last jobs that remains in the hope of gathering enough money to board one of the massive ships trying to escape the daunting gravity. Most fail and crash in the city in slow motion, razing whole districts to the ground in spectacular explosions.   Those fortunate enough to live in the high skyscrapers have a slightly better life than the others, in that they can look at the pale, sunless sky and open their windows without suffering smog poisoning. They are not necessarily wealthier than the others, mind you. Anyone with a bit of money took a rocket and flew away before the situation was beyond desperate. There is only poor and poorer. Still, the inhabitants of the Overhead are viewed as a sort of snobby elite that don't meddle much with the people downstairs.   On the ground, the most active part of the city is always the street. Millions of cars run at indecent speed to commute from their home to a far away job while losing the least time. Nobody enforces speed limits anymore anyway. Some might do this for the thrill of adrenaline, or perhaps to escape the even faster drones that share the same roads and don't care for the driver's safety.   Below the surface, the Underneath is the last place with a semblance of society. A brutal, lawless society, but beggars can't be choosers. Here, the black market sells stolen or scavenged goods, hallucinogenics and drugs to escape the grim reality, and criminal syndicate work actively to stop their rivals to take flight. They are people who gained power after everything was gone, but even they are stranded underground, unable to leave their lair in fear of their life.   In a way, it's the freedom we've always wanted. Nobody can tell you what to do, nobody will blame you for sleeping all day or mindlessly scroll through the remnants of social networks. But it should not be like this. And since there's nothing to save, we're leaving this place like the rest.   First, we must stole a ship.