Turning

Riding out to our new home, I could barely keep my eyes off Ellen, but she insisted that I take in the scenery.  She knew I would be dazzled by the spectacular view as we transferred from the Transit Hub down to the Vaisyas residential drive containing the neighborhood epicyclic where we would be living.  As usual, she wasn’t wrong. 

            She keyed in our destination coordinates while explaining what she was doing, already sounding like such a city dweller.  I was so proud. 

            “So ordinarily on a longer trip like this, we should make several stops, you know, for the sake of efficiency.”

I nodded while looking out the windows with glassy eyes.

“But that would keep our spin small between stops.  Is that the right word? Spin is spindle radius?”

I smiled and said that it was right. 

“Well anyway, I wanted to take a big spin and show you the view.  It’s well worth the cost of a few extra jewels isn’t it?”

A few extra joules, it certainly is. 

            Our spindle departed in a smooth sweeping arc, giving us an incredible view of the transportation ring gears surrounding the central hub.  The entire City of Frisco is shaped like an inverted cone; narrow at the bottom, spreading much wider nearing the top.  The mass of gears that make it up are constantly adjusting, giving it the appearance of a wide squatty mechanical tornado gyrating in slow motion.    

As we swing around closer to the axle tower I can see the activity on the massive industrial plat gears in the distance. Each large disk is a self contained factory, warehouse or production center.  No pollution belches from smokestacks; all energy is mechanical.  The incredible power of the huge city gears is bled off and spun up to turn high speed generators to run lights, tools, and machines in the factories. 

The transportation spindle we’re riding in uses the same mechanical power.  We ride the perimeters of huge transmission wheels to move in towards the hub of the city.  To move out to the extremities, we ride the centrifugal forces out spoke arms. Elevations are traversed up and down the axle towers. As chaotic as it appears to be, it’s actually a highly efficient system.   As I turn to explain it all to Ellen, she catches me off guard and tackles me in an embrace.  I tint the windows of the spindle and we make love for the rest of the ride home.  The gears can wait.  

The End

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