STATION

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They rounded the corner and stepped into an open area. The buildings around them fell away, revealing the single most massive structure on the fiftieth tower floor.

The floor station that loomed ahead of them was a colossal construct that defied common sense. Countless terraces, balconies, and verandas seemed to go on forever like some weird generation glitch in a sim tank.

The hundred paces to the station appeared trivial compared to its size, bringing them almost nose to nose with the mega-structure. The city abruptly halted around the station, forming a ring encircling its circular base.

The unclaimed real estate around the station was the result from some archaic law still being contested. The law seemed unlikely to be overturned anytime soon, and as the years passed, the open area around the station became an integral part of its identity.

However, the most notable aspect of the station was not below but above.

Near the top of the station, up past the network of the highways, was the Orbitals: a giant donut-shaped ring structure that slowly rotated around the floor station. On it were restaurants, clubs, and apartments. Hundreds of viewing platforms adorned its edges, crowded throughout the year. Given its unrestricted view of the city, the orbital was very popular with tourists. One could spend days walking through its themed sections and be transported through the ages. Each section was based on a different part of history, and as one cycled through the sections, they would go further back in time.

Right now, it was the age of Kings. Will spotted Old Henry, a Gothic-styled tower with a giant gravity-wound mechanical clock. Old Henry was part of the themed sections of the orbital that drew inspiration from an age that predated even the prewar era. The old clock tower was painstakingly transported from its original site and restored on top of the orbitals.

The clock face was visible even from this distance. The giant copper minute and hour hands of the clock pointed up, and the clock tower tolled a deep and resonant bong.

"There's old Henry," said Remy. He grabbed his slate and checked the time. "It's almost time for the Bunker express train to arrive."

Will smiled. "It's twelve. You don't have to check your slate."

"You know I can't read analog." Remy snorted. "Besides, analog is for old people." He grabbed Will by the arm and led him into the incoming station crowd.

The crowd thickened as they moved further ahead. A tide of people streamed in and out of the station and the two boys were swept along with the current into the station proper.

The station was abuzz with chatter as the locals went about their holiday shopping. Meanwhile, louder tourists moved in larger groups, excited by the festive attractions. Will and Remy got caught amidst one such group and the boys got jostled as they walked shoulder to shoulder with the crowd. Will made a conscious effort to avoid stepping on anyone's toes with his prosthetic foot.

"Attention all passengers. Floor 234 - 49 train is arriving on platform number 93 shortly," echoed the announcement from the overhead speakers, cutting through the din.

"Damn, I hate the afternoon rush," Remy shouted above the clamor.

"It will be worse on Awakening Day," Will replied.

Will looked up at the display boards and searched for the Bunker 37 Express, one of the few trains bound for the tower sub-levels. He reached the end of the list and yet there was no sign of the express. Will frowned. Did he miss it? There were a lot of trains.

"—Express will be delayed. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Will clicked his tongue. He got distracted by the announcer and lost his place on the list.

"Wait, what was that?" Remy muttered. "Did you hear that?"

"No, I missed it as well."

"I think that was about our train," said Remy.

Will scanned through the list once more. Still no sign of the train. He gave Remy a sidelong glance. "Still think we'll figure out my problem by the end of the train ride?"

"Look at the bright side," said Remy. "If the train is late, you have more time to think."

Will shook his head. They followed the crowd past the concourse on the station terminal.

The crowd thinned out as people walked towards their respective platforms. The floor rumbled and shook with the passage of each vertical train.

Instead of trains, they would be best described as souped-up elevators. The main mode of transport needed in the Tower were elevators. There had to be some way to transport a large amount of goods and people up and down the Tower.

The central station was the solution - a love child between an elevator and a railway system.

Long columns of clear metal glass dotted across the station floor, housing elevator trains that zipped past at high speeds. At their base, crowds gathered as they awaited their respective trains.

People never liked overcomplicating their vocabulary. Since the station, the platforms, and the elevators resembled the railway system, all naming conventions followed that idea.

The elevator carts became train compartments, and the base around metal glass columns, housing the vertical trains became platforms.

The trains being vertical did pose some unique challenges for people getting in and out of each compartment, but that's what the staircase was for. It spiraled around the metal glass column, providing access for people to reach different compartments.

A steady stream of people boarded and disembarked from the trains. The station handled the influx of ten thousand commuters per day. All of this done seamlessly without human intervention. It really was a marvel of engineering.

Will looked for the platform signs as they passed. They need to get to the 120s if they wanted to go down the tower. His feet moved unconsciously through the familiar path. He had made this trip so many times that the route was ingrained in him. Soon, the platforms zipped by. It went from the twenties to the fifties, and finally settled in the low hundreds. They were getting close.

Remy yawned and cricked his neck. "So, other than the end - which sucked, how did the test go?"

"It was going great," Will shrugged. "I was sleepwalking through the problems. If it weren't for my leg..."

Will looked down at the prosthetic and grimaced. It was going to cost a bit to fix it.

"The exam is forty percent of the weightage," said Remy. "The rest is with projects and fieldwork."

"Yeah," Will said slowly. "Do well in the projects, and I might be able to offset the O.A.Ts."

"Any idea on what you are going to select?"

"I was going to go with an interface study between mechs and CAD suits, but that is up in the air," Will explained. "No scholarship means no funding. I have to go with something less ambitious."

"What about automation or cubit coding?"

Will shook his head. "Only as a last resort. The exo's with tronix focus has more scope."

Will quickly made some calculations in his head. "I might scrape off twenty percent with this test. It's a minimum of seventy or eighty in projects and fieldwork if I want to graduate."

"You know there is another O.A.Ts in a few months," said Remy. "It's not like a freak accident of wrong drug dosage is going to happen twice in a row. You just have to make it up in the Returning Day test."

"The O.A.Ts is not the problem," said Will. "It's the scholarship. My locked account. I wouldn't get my medication or funding for my project. Money is the problem."

"Hundred creds a bottle," Remy muttered.

Will grimaced.

"You'll figure something out," Remy jerked his head forwards. "And that is our stop."

They had arrived at Platform One Hundred and Twenty-Seven. The crowd around looked distinctly rougher. Plaid shirts and designer suits were replaced by dirty overalls and jumpsuits. That said, the most common attire here was the scowl that was etched on every face. Angry mutters and disgruntled shouts were aplenty.

Will looked up at the information board, which was the subject of the crowd's ire. An alert flashed on the screen: "Bunker 37 Express delayed. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

Will searched the board for the next train, but it provided no more information.

"Dammit," Remy grumbled and checked his slate for any alternate trains. "Nothing here for the next fifty minutes."

Will smirked, and Remy stuck his tongue out at him. "Don't you start."

"You can always take back your bet," said Will.

"Not a chance," said Remy. "Anyway, it's not much of a bet if you're not actively trying to solve the problem."

"Fine, fine." Will gestured to the side, and both boys walked out of the crowd and away from the platform. They could use a bit more room to think.

"Alright, where do we begin?" murmured Will. "What do we know?"

"Your test went sideways," said Remy.

"Yeah, more like I got my ass handed to me and failed."

"Not failed, your results are delayed," said Remy.

"Fine, delayed," Will relented. "So, what are our options?"

They made their way to the utility and maintenance area of the station. There were not many people there.

"Your scholarship is locked," said Remy.

"And I don't have enough medical shots left," continued Will.

"Not enough shots," nodded Remy. "To solve that problem, our first step is..."

"First step is..." Will muttered. They reached the utility zone and stopped in front of an employee washroom with an out-of-order sign but didn't go in. Will waited for Remy's verdict.

"Beat up Kade," Remy finished and nodded seriously.

Will blinked. "Wait, what? That came straight out of left field." Ignoring the out-of-order sign, he stepped into the washroom.

Remy followed. "He lost the money, so we are going to get it out of him."

Will, exasperated, replied, "We are not extorting the Commissioner's son for cash."

"He messed with your money, Will," Remy insisted. "He should pay it back."

"This is not even about the money, is it?" Will shook his head. "You just want to beat up Kade."

Remy lost the grim face and grinned. "I just want to beat up Kade." He tossed Will his bag. Will grabbed the bag and shook his head, chuckling.

"It will be fun," quipped Remy and entered into the rightmost stall.

"You'll have me tossed in jail," Will replied, and he went into the stall in front of him. He unzipped the bag, and then pulled out a yellow maintenance uniform.

"Beating Kade up is good for society. It is a moral imperative, not to mention soul-enriching," said Remy.

"How do you figure that?" asked Will.

"First of all, it will make you feel better, and second, I would find it mighty enjoyable. Win-win for everybody," said Remy.

Will scoffed. "I see."

"Imagine Rowan's head bashed against a concrete floor," suggested Remy.

"No."

"Kick to the balls?"

"Nah."

"Drown him in a vat of acid!"

"Nein."

Will put on the yellow vest and hard hat over his school clothes. The pants were a struggle with his prosthetic, but he hopped in place before finally getting his legs through.

"You need to take this as a wonderful opportunity as is," Remy continued from the adjacent stall. "Kicking in that prick's teeth should be the only logical outcome."

Will sighed and stepped out of the stall. "Let's not make life any more difficult than it already is."

"Boring," came Remy's muffled voice, followed by a toilet flush. There was a click from the rightmost stall, and Remy stepped out of his cubicle.

"Alright, Mr. Adult, we will do the sensible and reasonable action and let it go," Remy made a gagging sound, as though the very idea disgusted him.

"Wash your hands," Will snorted.

After a quick rinse off, Remy followed Will out of the washroom. Will lowered his hard hat over his eyes as he scanned the people around them. None of them paid him any mind. They ignored him as part of the furniture, blended into the station itself. Amazing what a pair of yellow vests and fake name tags could do.

Both boys made their way to a door a bit away from the washroom. It was labeled "Employee Access Only" and had a card reader attached to the door.

"Now, back to the problem at hand," Remy fished out a lanyard with a bunch of key cards attached to it. He shuffled through it as he spoke. "You had a bad OATs, and the scholarship is cut off pending review. But you need money now for medical and the final project."

"Yup," said Will. "Forget the project for now. Medical is main."

"Alright. How much for the medicines?"

"Thirty percent of the scholarship," Will made a quick calculation. "One hundred and eighty thousand for the year."

"Hold up," interrupted Remy. "You don't need it for a year. Two months is enough."

"What do you mean?"

"The second O.A.Ts is in October," said Remy. "It's not like you are going to pass out for a second time. Once you pass the exam, there's no excuse for keeping your account locked. So, you need medical aid till the Returning Day test. That's it."

"Two months, that would be thirty thousand." The problem that seemed so daunting suddenly seemed plausible. Will looked at Remy. "I need to make thirty thousand."

"Thirty thousand," Remy repeated. He swiped his key card, and the employee-only door clicked open.