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Description

The World according to Malley, or my rules how to survive on ‘The Strip’.

I only actually lived on the Strip for about five years. This was before I committed myself to the Guild. These were the desperate years. Lift pilots were in demand, but life wasn’t easy for anybody then.

The Disaster of 2200 ruined North America's telecommunications and physical infrastructure. Four centimeters of volcanic ash was all it took to collapse bridges. The seismic activity caused the destruction of the de facto capital of the North American state.

It was chaos.

Then, within weeks, there was the beginning of the mass migrations from the West. People attempting to escape the ashfall. They were desperate, starving; it was an ugly time.

This was what the Strip was born from. The entire Eastern Coast was one enormous mass of surging humanity. In a short time, it developed into various communities, often butting up against each other. There was no central authority, no government.

The Corporations offered some help for a brief time, then they pulled most of their operations out. They only left who they needed on the planet.

They maintained the space ports. If it wasn’t for retrieval operations, I’m certain the Corporations would have abandoned those as well.

The Strip can be divided into sections ruled by warlords who control different areas. They only claimed their sovereignty with the brute force they could exert. The borders and populations would shift with each territorial dispute, each human cataclysm. Life was desperate for most in part because of these realities.

Here are some of my rules of survival then. They appear to be just as relevant now.

Assume that most people on the Strip are armed. It’s okay, you’re safer with a weapon, usually. People around you may carry guns, so it's not unusual. It’s a way of life on the Strip.

That being said: be situationally aware. Every little warlord has their own rules. Most now post them, sometimes on massive billboard signs, letters a meter high, telling you who was in charge and how they controlled their territories. Most of them have nothing against guns, they have something against YOU having a gun. Their thugs might shoot you down on sight if they saw you with a weapon. Read the signs, be very aware of exactly where you are.

Scavengers rule. They are the new paragons. The ONLY reason the Corporations continue to maintain the spaceports is for the scavengers. The Disaster disrupted technology; it did NOT destroy it. The scavengers are those who make a business of recovering tech, then trading it to the Corporations. There is an entire economy that revolves around this. EVERYTHING is in short supply, what is not in short supply is largely in the control of Warlord-Assholes. The scavengers beat this, they can exist outside the desperation paradigm.

Scavengers can also be assholes too. The Corporations don’t give a damn how you got the tech. They’ll compensate you with no thought of how much blood is on your hands. Scavengers know this. If they THINK you have some valuable tech, they will kill you for it.

ALWAYS be situationally aware.

If you can work for a corporation, in just about any capacity, your life will be better off. That was what I did. I was a pilot. My home was often a shuttle waiting for a job.

The irony today is I have what is potentially a literal fortune in my cargo hold. Coffee is like a treasure to some people. I also have tech. The Guild wants me to let this tech fall into the hands of the Ministry.

I’m guessing I might need to be a scavenger for a bit.

Description

The World according to Malley, or my rules how to survive on ‘The Strip’.

I only actually lived on the Strip for about five years. This was before I committed myself to the Guild. These were the desperate years. Lift pilots were in demand, but life wasn’t easy for anybody then.

The Disaster of 2200 ruined North America's telecommunications and physical infrastructure. Four centimeters of volcanic ash was all it took to collapse bridges. The seismic activity caused the destruction of the de facto capital of the North American state.

It was chaos.

Then, within weeks, there was the beginning of the mass migrations from the West. People attempting to escape the ashfall. They were desperate, starving; it was an ugly time.

This was what the Strip was born from. The entire Eastern Coast was one enormous mass of surging humanity. In a short time, it developed into various communities, often butting up against each other. There was no central authority, no government.

The Corporations offered some help for a brief time, then they pulled most of their operations out. They only left who they needed on the planet.

They maintained the space ports. If it wasn’t for retrieval operations, I’m certain the Corporations would have abandoned those as well.

The Strip can be divided into sections ruled by warlords who control different areas. They only claimed their sovereignty with the brute force they could exert. The borders and populations would shift with each territorial dispute, each human cataclysm. Life was desperate for most in part because of these realities.

Here are some of my rules of survival then. They appear to be just as relevant now.

Assume that most people on the Strip are armed. It’s okay, you’re safer with a weapon, usually. People around you may carry guns, so it's not unusual. It’s a way of life on the Strip.

That being said: be situationally aware. Every little warlord has their own rules. Most now post them, sometimes on massive billboard signs, letters a meter high, telling you who was in charge and how they controlled their territories. Most of them have nothing against guns, they have something against YOU having a gun. Their thugs might shoot you down on sight if they saw you with a weapon. Read the signs, be very aware of exactly where you are.

Scavengers rule. They are the new paragons. The ONLY reason the Corporations continue to maintain the spaceports is for the scavengers. The Disaster disrupted technology; it did NOT destroy it. The scavengers are those who make a business of recovering tech, then trading it to the Corporations. There is an entire economy that revolves around this. EVERYTHING is in short supply, what is not in short supply is largely in the control of Warlord-Assholes. The scavengers beat this, they can exist outside the desperation paradigm.

Scavengers can also be assholes too. The Corporations don’t give a damn how you got the tech. They’ll compensate you with no thought of how much blood is on your hands. Scavengers know this. If they THINK you have some valuable tech, they will kill you for it.

ALWAYS be situationally aware.

If you can work for a corporation, in just about any capacity, your life will be better off. That was what I did. I was a pilot. My home was often a shuttle waiting for a job.

The irony today is I have what is potentially a literal fortune in my cargo hold. Coffee is like a treasure to some people. I also have tech. The Guild wants me to let this tech fall into the hands of the Ministry.

I’m guessing I might need to be a scavenger for a bit.