The Sclarravia Chronicles;marktwo.

" Please state destination. Credits can be placed into the rear and forward terminals, and percentage of the proceeds .. "1

" Yes, I know. Royal Academy. And take the back streets, I need to be there five minutes ago. "2

Nestling into the polyester seats of the autocab, Tristan closed his eyes for a few sweet minutes of contemplation before he reached his destination - or so he would tell himself. He knew that in reality he found it hard to let his eyes wander across the metropolis of Neo New York without feeling physically sick - the air city was a tribute to modern industry, and modern industry far from beautiful. Titanic pillars of steel rose from the mist where the Earth lay far below, thrusting upwards into the polluted sky, where far out of sight a dying sun lay in wait of its sure destruction. The air around the pillars was alive with networks of autocars, autocabs and the like - perfect streams of flying machine flowing in and out of the city.3

Tristan let a light cackle escape his pursed lips. He remembered when his grandfather told him stories of green fields, flowerbeds and even real sunlight upon the skin - how things have changed.4

" Sir, we have arrived at your destination. We are now docking at Port 4 of The Royal Academy Of Science. "