Chapter 2: A Storm Approaching

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Most of the time the whistle blows to alert everyone to duty.  Today was different.  The rain tapping on the yellow glass enclosure managed to wake Nathan up earlier than normal.  Something seemed different today.  He couldn't understand what, but he knew that it wasn't going to be an ordinary day.  Raindrops covered the yellow glass dome that surrounded his lodgings.  This had been his home ever since he could remember.  Pod 132A, situated just two stories above the ocean, with another two layers above his.  On the inside of his Pod stood a small stove and furnace. A bed just slightly too small for his body occupied the back corner, near the door. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, while a small wardrobe stood right in front of his bed. A cluttered table was situated at the front of his Pod, with a clear view of the ocean just beyond.  On the table lay small mechanical contraptions, none of which were in working order, but what can one expect when nonstop work prevents you from doing anything else beyond sleeping and eating?

The pod living quarters were stacked on a central stem, just as if they were small leaves growing from a flowering plant.  There were several pod towers on this floating island located in the middle of the ocean.  From a distance it looked like small skyscrapers rising from the surface of the water.  This, of course, was the housing for the workers, for only the lowest of classes resided on the surface.  Why did they deserve the same lodgings as the upper class people?  If anyone's home was to be destroyed by the elements, it may as well be the poor workers.  Not like they have much to live anyways.  This was the usual thought of Nathan during the stormy season.

While putting on his shirt, the whistle went off just like clockwork.  This scheduled the beginning of the first shift.  He finished putting on his boots, grabbed a small bagel, and walked over to the door and opened it.

"Well, today's gonna'  be another great day."  The sarcasm in his voice was blatantly obvious. "At least it's raining today.  I would hate to have a beautiful day for work.  And what better way to start off the day than with a half stale bagel ."  Nathan Axle opened the door and descend the spiral staircase to the bottom floor, all while stuffing his face with the week old bagel.

Walking outside the housing stem, Nathan looked toward the horizon.  He saw nothing but different shades of blue, gradually changing from that of the ocean, to darker, menacing blue clouds above.  It was obvious that a massive storm front was on the way.

"Nathan!  I need you to go check refractors four and seven.  They're below minimal output levels.  Check and see what's going on."   Commanded Arnold Carpenter, the head manager of the island. When living on a manmade island of forged and welded iron, it is nearly impossible to not know everyone you're living and working with, especially this man.  

"C'mon Arnold!  It's going to be a monsoon in about an hour, just look.  There's practically a hurricane on the way!"  Nathan didn't know why he even made the argument, he knew how thick headed Arnold was.  If he wanted something done it got done- or you were sent to the boiler chambers.  It was punishing work, which most men would try to avoid at all cost. Nathan just stood in his place while workers passed him on either side, heading off to work. He continued to stare down the man, who was situated above in his office, staring out the window as he leaned over on his hands.  Nathan could tell he should've kept his mouth shut by the way Arnold was standing.

"When I tell you to do something you do it!  I don't care if there's thirty foot waves out here.  Now get out there or get used to the boiler chambers!"  With this last statement, Arnold slammed the window shut and went to work in his office.  

"Well, this sucks, but since when has that been different?"  Nathan just shrugged his shoulders and headed over to the work shed.  He opened the door and pulled out a few tools, placing them in the belt around his waist.  He slammed the door to the shed and trudged over to the steamcycle.  

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