To get to the Undercity, you have to row. We paddled our boat down a flowing water pipe. I said nowhere was off limits when I started this column, but I felt my own limits being tested. Max Stillwell, my colleague in conch, rowed in time with me, supervised by our FL0UND3R unit. Together, we passed outside of the world we know – a world of laws, products and schedules – into the semi-anarchic Undercity.
Residents eyed us with suspicion as we arrived. I could hear them whisper about us as we passed. The architecture in the labyrinthine tunnels is nothing like the rest of the city – no prefab parts or city blocks. Everything here is carved or cut or crafted by hand – or by magic. Runes and symbols glow ominously on some walls, while plants that look large enough to swallow a person whole loom at the entrance to ‘the Grove’.
They say there’s magic in the air here. On the docks, all I got was the faint whiff of rotting eggs, surely the hydrogen sulfide produced by the water treatment plants above. That unpleasant odour is about to be replaced by the stench of dirty water – as the Galactic Union redirects the flow and the pipes run dark.
The Undercity was built on illegally siphoned water and power from other districts, which fueled the enclave’s growth from a shanty town to a full-fledged settlement. This year, it became too big to ignore.
On behalf of the Galactic Union, Governor Rhapsodia offered to integrate the district into Row 32. But after violent clashes between Masaru and locals, any goodwill has seemingly disintegrated on both sides.
So they cut the cables. Union declared their intention to stop the flow of power and water in two days. The Undercity Council has responded that they will live independently of the Galactic Union henceforth.
Despite both governments’ actions, the streets feel calm. Passersby told me that they were nervous about what might happen. Some were supportive, but not all agreed with the Council’s push for independence. Nonetheless, every single resident I spoke to said the Undercity will pull together and find a way through. It’s a sense of solidarity we rarely see in the upper levels. Yet I can’t help but wonder…everyone might be confident they can weather the storm…but why do they need to?
To answer that question, first I needed to speak to the person in charge. But no one seemed to quite know who is a mayor, a temporary mayor, or a councilor. After seemingly talking to every passerby in the plumbing – including a brief interlude with a local parkour group called “Sick Fucking Jumps” – I eventually arranged a meeting with Councilman Theris Fueler, who appeared on screens across the Undercity last night in the emergency broadcast declaring their independence. But first, check out a Sick Fucking Jump.
When I finally speak to Fueler, what strikes me first is his composure. His voice is calm and even, with no signs of nervousness. When I asked how he intended to ensure citizens have access to clean water and power, he pointed to “some ideas – some renewable resources”. He did not elaborate to me further on what these were, or how they could be operational in the next two days.
As he sees it, this is no temporary dispute, but a new way of life. He suggested that the Undercity might one day sell food surpluses to GEB, once the corporations recognise its new status.
“The Undercity, with its newfound independence, is a wonderful place to start a new life and enjoy oneself without the constant fear of corporate overlords over their heads,” he said. “Independence, in short, is a way for people to live a calmer life.”
It’s hard to see a calm future when the city is moments from cutting off the district’s utilities. Hearing politics take precedent over people’s right to clean water was exasperating. Whatever the future of the Undercity might be, this game of chicken is sickening.
Fueler conceded to me that some residents were unsupportive or indifferent to the idea of independence – but they don’t plan to back down or make concessions. Real lives are at stake here. Clean water is not a luxury. Power is not a luxury.
I do believe Fueler, and his fellow councillors when they speak of the failures of the past. They mean well, and, ultimately, it isn’t the Undercity Council who decided to cut off the pipes.
For a gaudy building with faux-classical architecture, you’d think the Union Heights Union HQ would have more chairs. I struggled to find a seat in the grandiose records room. While waiting to talk to a representative, I was struck by how this building wasn’t meant for people to use. It was made to send a message.
The representative arrived. He read from his datapad: “Row 32 is undergoing infrastructure maintenance due to a recently found illegal redirection of resources and systems, and will be correcting that with the full endorsement of the Corporate higher ups.”
I could have saved a trip. They never mentioned people’s taps running dry or synthetics struggling to refuel. A Union employee, who does not wish to be named over fear of losing their job, also made it clear to me that the Galactic Union does not recognise any independent entity in the Undercity. It is simply considered an unincorporated area. In other words, a squat.
Everyone deserves better than to watch their water run dry at the whims of the powers that be. It doesn’t matter whether they live in the Undercity or Row 32 – we all live in Salvation City. No one in a modern city should ever have to wonder whether they will have clean water and power tomorrow. All sides can’t wash their hands of this. They must swallow their pride, come together, and guarantee that everyone will be provided for.
There is a relief fund to help supply the Undercity’s residents with vital energy and water supplies – details below. I’ve donated. You should too if you can, because wherever we’re headed, if we’re going to make it, we’ll need to row together.