rockr

Coming—Mr. Robertson?!

Can you stand, Mr. Robertson?

(Shakes head)

Keep an eye on him while I fetch a stretcher, Rockrock.

Did you see any other wounded, Mr. Robertson?

Mr. Robertson?

(Shakes head)

Alright. Don't talk; just hang on. The stretcher will be here soon.

I found out why the Sarkaz were beating up people in broad daylight.

What's going on?

They imposed a ban on working in the light industry district.

A ban on working?!

All employment relationships outside factories under their control have been banned.

So they're forcing people into their factories and starving those who don't want to work for them?

Exactly.

These people were beaten because the Sarkaz found out they were doing jobs for non-Sarkaz.

What about the old, the sick, the invalid?

Did you think they care?

Those bastards...

(Deep breath)

Go and check on those whose conditions are less serious. We should have enough medicine, as long as we ration properly.

I'll take care of Mr. Robertson. He's... not in good shape.

It's time your medicine, Mr. Robertson.

Can you sit up?

Mr. Robertson?

Mr. Robertson, it's time for your med—

Hey, you didn't take your meds for the morning!

Why... take care of me...

Huh?

We care for all the workers of Londinium.

Plus, Dad said we're all family here in the light industry district.

And you were part of the railway's mechanical divi—

Rockrock did not see Robertson grab his sheets.

...else.

What did you say?

Someone... else.

Someone else?

Did you want someone else to care for you?

(Nods)

Alright.

I'll get someone else. But make sure you take your medicine, alright?

(Closes eyes)

Mr. Robertson!

(Slight nod)

How are the injured, Rockrock?

They're recovering well. We can send them home today.

Once we do that, it'll be time for us to move.

...Yeah.

Robertson has been banging on his bed, by the way.

He keeps shaking his head, whether it's water, food or medicine that I'm bringing him. It's not toilet stuff either. He's too ill to speak, but he won't stop banging.

I think he wants you.

I'll be right there!

Rockrock walks into the tent and sees Robertson still banging on the bedplate weakly.

He only stops once he opens his eyes and sees Rockrock.

You were asking for me, Mr. Robertson?

It's alright. I'm here.

(Slaps the bed lightly)

You want me to sit by your side?

Made from several wooden planks, the makeshift bed would not have fit a bigger man.

Rockrock tries to find a space by the side of the bed, but finds only hard planks.

I'm here, Mr. Robertson.

I heard you've been taking your medicine on time.

That's good. It'll help you recover...

The sounds that Robertson makes form no coherent words, but the meaning is clear.

You're right, why talk about that?

How about we discuss the past?

When Dad was still around, he used to say that the railway was the lifeblood of the light industry district.

Raw materials come into the district by the railway, into the factories and workshops, and the finished products are transported out of the district to the rest of Londinium and Victoria.

The goods are the blood that flows in the vessels, while railway workers are the... they're the—

The cells that form the railway.

The cells have to work together for blood to flow unhindered, and the cells in turn get their nutrition from the bloodflow.

I thought about it, and said that the rumbling that the train makes is the pulse of the light industry district.

(Gasps)

Dad thought a bit and said it was a good analogy.

After that, the trains didn't seem so noisy at all when they rolled by. Instead, they were like my own heartbeat, calming me down when I listened to it.

Rumble, rumble...

Rockrock emulates the sound of a train, while Robertson listens.

Then the factories began shutting down, one by one, and the railway went out of operation...

(Gasps)

*cough* *cough*...

Mr. Robertson!?

Sorry, I just kept going...

Let's talk about happier things.

Look!

This is my drone. Its name is Rock-11.

It's my 11th drone, I started with Rock-1.

The captain assembled it from a motley collection of parts, so it's not as good as what you get in the shops, but I had input in it as well, and the drones have been a big help.

The Sarkaz would've caught us if not for them.

It's all thanks to you, and Dad's colleagues in the mechanical division.

(Breathes raggedly)

Do you remember how the boys in the mechanical division made a drone for me out of spare parts for my birthday? You were the one who made the core power plant.

I loved it. It couldn't fly very high, but I would hover it at home whenever I had time.

I would look at the spinning rotor, and dream about building bigger and better drones when I grew up.

That way, dad wouldn't have to watch the boilers night and day, and you wouldn't have to climb up and down all over the place when fixing stuff.

Everyone would live together happily, grabbing a round of beers together after work—

(Mumbles)

Mr. Robertson?

Robertson's coughing interrupts her.

Rockrock sees that his eyes have become wet.

Let's not talk about that! I—