Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1), Mariana Morgan [epub e ink reader .TXT] 📗

but had what people needed most—rich soil untouched by human hands, ready to be farmed. The poor created their own communities, away from the luxuries of cities. For the most part, they were left alone. There was a lot of green, unoccupied terrain throughout the Afro-European Alliance, and as long as the poor stayed away from the rich, they could eke out their lives in relative peace.

When it was time to consider returning the production of food and other vital commodities closer to the cities, around a hundred years ago, Lyon was a large, prosperous city. Its overall size was some four times greater than the old Lyon in the 21st century had claimed, but it wasn’t as densely populated. Neither were the surrounding areas. The countryside that had once been thickly interspaced with towns and villages was nothing but wilderness.

There simply weren’t enough people in the whole Afro-European Alliance to occupy the land. The population of about a hundred million had remained at a steady level, which was barely a few per cent of the population that had occupied the same area in the early 21st century.

When the decision was made to bring farming and the factories into the outskirts of the cities, Lyon was chosen to be the site of the first experiment. And that changed the city forever.

In 2611, the construction of vast nano-factories and farms began on the northern areas on the west bank of the Saône. The poor flooded the city, entranced by the prospects of jobs and proximity to a better life. Just as had happened in the past, the elusive dream of what life could be like dragged people away from their hard but secure existences.

Over the next couple of years, the farms and factories expanded successfully, attracting even more workers, who settled down between the rivers and on the east bank of the Rhône—the west bank of the Saône and South Lyon belonged to the rich. Old employment records from 2617 show nearly half a million people received a salary working on Lyon’s farms and in the factories. It wasn’t really the dream any of them had been after, but it was a job that came with a salary, medical care and child benefits.

And then another breakthrough in science advanced nano-machination to a new level and replaced the human workforce almost overnight. The yield was higher, the production more uniform, and those half a million people, still enthralled by the chance of catching their dream, found themselves laid off by 2619. Some moved back into the countryside, heading mainly into the Alps, past the contamination zone that had affected the Prealps, where they had known they wouldn’t be bothered, before their resources ran out. Others stayed behind, hoping things would change. The dream had been strong for some.

By the time it was clear that there were no more jobs, a lot of them were stranded. It was hard to estimate just how many people remained. At first supplies, food and basic medical care were provided, as well as housing and schooling. Soon, however, the resources dwindled. The ex-workers and their families were forgotten, left to fend for themselves in a far tougher environment than the countryside ever was.

The rich, calling themselves the Elite by then, had done all they could to ignore the beggars and troublemakers confined to the East Side. Out of sight, out of mind. No one would ever know who was the first, but at some point, someone called them Leeches. First as a joke, referring to the drain of feeding so many mouths, later as an insult to underline their parasitic nature. The Leeches weren’t welcome in Lyon. The cities and towns were splendid places, and they belonged to the Elite.

Of course, the Elite still needed a workforce, but with so much automation pampering to their every need only a small fraction of those laid off could hope to find any employment. The working Leeches were tolerated as long as they kept to themselves when off work and caused no trouble; the jobless were considered a failure.

The Freedom Wars, which officially began in 2643, cut through their numbers as more and more Leeches enlisted or were pressed into military service. Hardly anyone returned, but as long as they stayed alive their families survived, their living expenses covered by military salaries. The Leeches were also promised that once the Wars were over, the Leech problem would be taken care of properly, so some probably enlisted hoping for a better future. If not for themselves, they longed to gift it to their children.

No relief came when the Wars ended. The Leeches in Lyon, far more numerous than in any other city in the Afro-European Alliance, created communities of their own. The families joined together to care for each other, sharing skills and experience whenever possible. Primitive schools were created to help the young generation maintain a basic level of education.

Not much had changed since. Life in the slums was hard, the food supply short and good medicine scarce.

Charities still existed, trying to provide humanitarian relief, but they were hopelessly inadequate. In the absence of nano-birth control the Leeches reproduced much faster than the Elite, whose reproductive rate was still strictly controlled by the Afro-European Alliance’s philosophy, but no one even knew how fast their numbers were rising. Medical staff volunteering in Leech hospitals were obliged to provide each newborn baby with a BCC, but not all babies were born in hospitals. Some never received their BCC, and for all intents and purposes they weren’t actually citizens of the Afro-European Alliance.

Some refused to live like that. Unable to lash out at the Elite, they took advantage of those they could reach. Crime and exploitation blossomed in the slums. The strongest gangs banded together to form the Syndicate. Ironically, for the most part, the Syndicate’s intention was protection, but they couldn’t hope to be everywhere and their methods were brutal. Independent opportunists and criminals thrived.

The East Side of Lyon was nothing but