iFlow

Irem, the city of dreams – it is a household name for the mysterious. As such it fits perfectly into the unknown reaches of the Badlands. In this article I present you my personal vision of Irem on TerraNova.

The Story

A long time ago, there was a king. Well, he wasn’t a rightful king but the position of CEO and majority holder in a major electronics company comes close to this. His name was Khareem Shadad, called the Golden, for he was a man of great wealth. He also was a man of many enemies. And thus it came to pass that one day he packed his belongings and a few hundred of his most loyal retainers and went out into the desert.

There, he vanished without a trace.

Or so the story goes. In reality, Shadad had constructed a fortress for himself long before he went away. The fortress was a self-contained complex built into one of the many mesas of the Badlands. It was quite large and was constructed in such way, as to ensure ist survival even under the most dire of situations. This ability was tested quite soon when, a few cycles after Shadad had moved in, the whole structure was buried under a sand storm.

Nobody heard from the City of Dreams ever since.

Irem today

The city itself is large underground system of tunnels and caverns set into a desert mesa. From the outside one cannot see anything of the city since the sides of the mesa are covered with tons of sand, enough to deter any digging in – or digging out for that matter. Thus even the windows set high into the mesa look out only into a wall of dust and stones.

There are three main areas in the city. The first is the Great Hall, a natural cavern almost 500 metres deep and 150 metres high. Within this hall is the main city proper. The inhabitants, of which there are more than 700, have erected various buildings in this hall, just like they would have, if the city had been under an open sky. There are simple two-bedroom houses made from broken stone, there are large mansions, housing entire families and there are spiralling towers at least 100 metres high. And then there are the Pillars of the Sky. The pillars reach up from the ground to the cavern’s roof and are constructed in such a way as to maximise the stability of the hall.

All of these buildings are beautiful works of art. The inhabitants have virtually spent centuries improving their city until it now is nothing less than a dazzling sight. The buildings feature stuccoworks, colourful paint-schemes and many, many balconies. There are bridges spanning the void between the towers, decorated with hanging flowers. Many of the side streets have been lain out with grass, only occasionally broken by statues.

In short it is as beautiful as an underground city can get.

The cavern’s roof is a wonder by itself. When the city was constructed, the architects went to great lengths to create the illusion of an open sky. Thus they painted the roof in a pale blue colour, with a deeper blue near the center of the roof. They couldn’t create a sun, so they had to make do with large plasma arcs housed in special lamps. These lamps are placed on the highest points of the pillars and are dimmed in such way as to permit the illusion of a sun wandering over the city. The architects even set little halogen lights into the roof to create something akin to stars.

From one end to another flows a small underground river connected to the MacAllen Network. It is large enough to permit fishing and represents the main source of water for the city. Its sides are lined with small parks, small bridges and amphitheaters.

The second main area is the hydroponics section. It consists of long halls of green houses, carefully nurtured by the population of the city. It is here that most of the food is produced and the air is cleaned. On all ends there are massive redundant pumping station bringing air and water from the city into the gardens. Otherwise the area is quite plain.

The third area consists of the engineering section. Within these few halls there are a geothermal power station, a back-up fusion reactor and the waste disposal facilities. There are also several CAD/CAM units here used to permit limited manufacturing of spare parts. Most of the items used by the populace is made from local materials like clay and plants anyway, so these machines aren’t overworked.

The People of Irem

When you spend a few hundred cycles under a mountain without chance for outside contact, you naturally look for something to take up your time. TV doesn’t work, since there are tons of iron-veined rock over your head. Juggling stones also gets dull after a time. The inhabitants of Irem found their hobby in the holo-machines made by King Shadad’s former company.

Every cycle the inhabitants gather on the streets, bridges and balconies to watch the most beautiful works of art ever created with a holo-projector. It is a competition between various houses, a house being the inhabitants of assorted buildings in a quarter of the city, a tower or even part of a pillar. Every single family member contributes to this effort, be it with words, work or creativity.

The contest runs like this: The various heads of the houses come together in the city’s main square and watch the works of their house-mates projected from the Pillars to the roof of the cavern. Whoever won the contest gets to test their abilities against the winners of the previous four cycles. Every eligible house sends out one representative who must improvise an original work set around a random theme. The winner of five consecutive competitions gets the main prize.

The main prize is cloning. The winner’s DNA is taken and stored in the city’s medical center. After her death, the DNA is taken out of the fridge and a clone is constructed. When the clone is ripe, it is sent to a special creche, where other clones are raised as well. At any time there are about five clones in the making.

Of course, there are other ways to be cloned. For once, there are elections every seven years deciding which citizen has the most talent to be a future administrator. Then, there are clones made at the behest of the administrators. These are generally chosen for genetic advantages.

The clones have a special role in Irem’s society. First of all, they are not raised in families. They are official wardens of the city and have special duties to Irem, not their respective houses. It is they who run the city, administrate it and are most fully educated in its secrets. Thus the 25 clones usually active in Irem make up its ruling class. Though they are welcome to mix with the general populace and are often invited to do so, they may not be cloned themselves.

Originally King Shadad had himself cloned repeatedly and the clones had themselves cloned as well. After a while the result was a visual degredation in the quality of the clones, with some even developing dangerous psychoses. Thus the citizens decided (after a blood-less coup) to keep the clones as their administrators but to replace the genes in regular intervals.

Ways in/Ways out

How do the PCs get into all this? First of all, they may have heard of a fabled City of Dreams out in the desert, that one day was swallowed up by the sands. Caravan traders and grandmas from all over the Badlands tell this story. Then there is the delirious scavenger the PCs pick up after a sandstorm. However they know of Irem’s location, there is only one way to get in or out of Irem.

During certain sand storms occuring every 30 cycles or so, the sand covering the mesa is blown away. For a few hours, in eye of the storm, the entrance is uncovered and curious wanderers can see the many lighted windows of Irem. This is a very spooky sight and more than one wanderer mistook it for a trick of the mind.

The Department of Controlling

Want to see the IRS meets the Men in Black? This is what they are. The nightmare of all paxton executives, it is said that parents of the management caste bring their children to bed with sentences to bed like: “Sleep now, or the Controllers will come and get you.”

In spite of rumours of eating the children of embezzlers alive, the job of the Department of Controlling is a quite mundane one. In every company on this world and others there is someone who keeps an eye on the money and where it goes. With Paxton Arms, being a very large company, the number of these people is legion – as are their names since the individual members don’t wear name tags when in official business.

The job of the DoC is to monitor monetary flows through Paxton and to ensure that no money is lost on the way and that no money is spent on useless endeavors. As such, they check the books of PA and fully owned subsidiaries, approve large investments and make sure that every good bought by Paxton money is definitely, physically where it belongs.

In reality their job is much larger in scope. The DoC operates in parallel and competition to PacSec’s Corporate Crimes Division. Over the years, the DoC has managed to increase their privileges until it now forms a kind of intelligence service unto themselves. Agents of the DoC have the right to inspect the accounts of Paxton Arms employees and do so on a regular basis. The employees do not necessarily know this – unless the DoC decides to leave a few hints.

Indeed, the sinister image of the DoC is so on purpose. Even though it creates a certain paranoia among paxton employees, it undeniably helps keep corporate crime to a minimum.

With this in mind, the available resources of the DoC have been expanded. The DoCs Agents can now count on the latest in personal equipment and surveillance devices, have agents in most banks and work with all the resources of PaxSec at their beg and call. They operate out of a sealed compound next to but apart from the PaxSec headquarters.

Needless to say, PaxSec itself doesn’t exactly like the Department of Controlling. Their agents turn up when they’re least expected, take over cases whenever they wish to and generally don’t waste valuable air to speak to lowly cops. Most cops think the DoC only gives Paxton a bad name and provide no return on investment whatsoever considering their budget.

In reality this view is exaggerated, though not by much. There are only a hundred members of the DoC at any given time. Considering the size of Paxton’s holdings, this number is not large. The department counters this lack of personnel with technology. Several large dedicated Onnets sort through Paxton’s accounting data on thirty-six hour basis and its agents are trained to place surveillance equipment wherever they may be needed. Rumour has it they are trained by some humanist expatriates on the run from HIRA.

Thus, despite a public image of omnipresence, the DoC simply doesn’t have the manpower to keep an eye on anyone. Oftentimes, cases are simply dropped because they are not worth the bother. At other times members of the Corporate Crimes Division get anonymous pointers to where to look. But now and then the external agents of the DoC climb into their black limousines and drive into the night, silent and unseen.

The Mines

There are two types of mines in question – fully owned ones and contract suppliers. The contract suppliers are generally less of a problem as Paxton doesn’t have the right to inspect their books. These are normally only given a cursory look – which in the case of the Department of Controlling is still quite taxing.

The checks include seeing to it that the minimum working standards of Paxton Arms are held, looking over the freight papers with wares going to Paxton and talking to people about the state of affairs. All this is quite routine and taken in stride by the mining proprietors. After all, they are still badlanders.

The fully owned mines are another matter entirely. There, the DoC conducts full checks of the books, does a complete inventory and makes sure the mines are in order. This is usually the most dangerous part of the visits. Of course, neither miners nor managers are particularly happy about this. Consequently, agents of the DoC are stalled in their job. Not that this would impress them much. On the contrary, whatever the problems, the agents do their assigned jobs as cleanly and consistently as ever.

The Bad Apple

The story:
There is a copper mine in the Pacifica Range that is less than kosher. The local miners have made a deal with Wounded Knee smugglers, making them accomplices. The scheme runs like this: Every 40 days or so, the smugglers deliver a package of drugs to the miners. These then put them in marked containers with a few tons of copper ore. At their destination, Peace River, local partners of the smugglers pick up the drugs and prepare them for retail.

The packages themselves are simple metal cylinders filled with about ten kilos of pulverized drugs. The smugglers usually deliver about 10 of them. Not all of them are put in one container, at most three are sent in one container. Thus for several weeks the miners need to store highly illegal material. Clever as they are, they do this right in the parts storage. The container is labeled Clyinders, Metal.

So what happens when the DoC decides to make a surprise visit to this den of evil?

All sorts of things, of course. Weights are dropped accidentially, tires are cut and doors are locked. The agents and their loyal lackeys counter this with detcords, runflat tires and, especially, watchful eyes.

Within the ESE, the inner-city slums of Strathclyde and Javari are the places to be avoided. Their inhabitants not only have to fear the sudden whims of their Emirs, they are also haunted by over-active solicitors.

Vigilantes

Time and again some solicitors band todether and decide to take their anger out on those weaker then themselves. They put on black masks, steal or rent cars and drive out into the slums. Once there, they corner some beggars – essentially the lowest class of shajhalin there is. The unfortunate victims are then immolated, shot or beaten.

In certain areas this has even become a sort of gentleman-sport. Some of these ‘clubs’ are simple regular get-togethers of solicitors for a night out in the slums. Others are elaborate clubs with solicitors gaining a foothold in decadent circles by performing induction ceremonies and swearing oathes of secrecy among their brethren.

Then, of course, there are the loners. These are solicitors that somehow snapped. It has become a virtual tradition for those who can’t stand the stress of a soliscitor’s life anymore to go out with a bang. They usually pick up a gun, walk into the slums and don’t stop shooting until someone takes them down.

Shajhalin

What do the inhabitants of the slums do about this? They form gangs. Among the lowest of the low, these usually consist of mutual defense pacts between several families. They post guards always on the look-out for the vigilante’s black limousines and help each other out. Their third job is to defend their turf against other gangs. Since the gangs also often deal in narcotics and have the ultimate say in alotting housing areas, having turf is prerequisite in surviving in the slums.

Another specific element in their lives is the daily feeding of the masses. The patriarchal regime employs a sort of ‘bread and circuses’ policy toward its shajhalin. On many days, those shajhalin without jobs obtain their food from public kitchens. The shajhalin receive ration cards for use in these kitchens. If they are unable to get their food, then their gang members must do the job. These are needed in any case as the lines at the kitchens are often quite contested among gangs, with the weakest waiting the longest for their food – if they get it at all.

Of course, there are those without families, friends and human support. These form the lowest of the low, the true dregs of Emirate life. It is most often them who run afoul of solicitor hate gangs or starve in the shanty towns.

Happenings

Once in a while, the violence in the slums reach a certain threshold and boil over. Then, the slums erupt in a week of death and destruction with gangs fighting for their turfs, Emirate soldiers keeping the peace with heavy weaponry and widespread fires in the slums. Incidents like these sometimes even get reported on Dominion and Republican Media.

More often than not, the violence begins in one of the many screen places. The latter are virtual market places where the poorest of the poor gather to watch teevee. The ‘bread and circuses’ policy also entails entertaining the lower classes. As the lowest don’t have the option of going to the great stadiums, the stadiums must come to them. Many Emirs have placed large video screens in their slums to entertain the masses. The market palces where these things happen are either areas under the sole dominance of the local gangs or virtual freeports where none may harm another.

I got the basic idea from a documentary about a real-life wandering cinema in India, in case you’re wondering.
The Travelling cinema consists of three people, their truck and their presentation equipment. They wander the Badlands on the trail of trade caravans and show popular movies in locations far away from any cinema. They make a decent income with it and even have connections to certain Rover bands. These connections consist of a deal between Ulysses and their leaders. In return for showing the rovers the newest adventures of Cherubim Haart the travelling cinema gets protection.

The Crew

      Ulysses Paraskevopulos

Born in the 1870’s Ulysses has inherited his profession from his father who operated along the same lines before him. And his father before him. And so on. Ulysses is small, thin and wears a perpetual frown on his weather-beaten face. He has been wandering the deserts for more than 40 cycles now and what he has seen all this time didn’t make his outlook on live really happy. The foolishness of the Polar leagues, the invasion of Earth, all these things left scars in his mind as well as his body. Incidentially that also makes him an excellent source of information.

      Hermes Paraskevopulos

Ulysses son, now 18 cycles of age, wanders the sands with his father, training to one day inherit the business. He is still quite young and often befriends kids of the trading caravans. Naturally, sooner or later the cinema must always move on, so Hermes is a rather lone boy. As such he prizes his father above all else. He plans on setting up a real cinema in one of the Badlands cities when he inherits the businness. His father is against this though, saying that wandering lies in the heart of his family.

      Gerhard Trgovcic

Resident techie, Gerhard came to TN with the CEF. He always was a simple technician and didn’t have much to do with the Party and its goals. He originally signed on because his homeland was very poor. He signed on to get a way away from the prospects of a live in poverty.
Stranded on TN, he quickly got into trouble with TerraNovans hunting Earthers for the simple reason of them being Earthers. Ulysses saved him from one of those mobs, making him his associate. With Gerhard’s knowledge they were able to scrounge enough parts together to create a working 3D-Projector. This is operated by Gerhard who trains Hermes in the use and repair of the thing. Gerhard usually keeps a very low profile, fearing, rightfully or not, the TerraNovans.