The Sunless City Bryan Chong, Year 12 A flash of light, searing heat, the ground thundering beneath him. Robert awoke from his nightmare with a gasp. Again. He breathed in carefully and sat up slowly in bed, listening to the patter of rain against his government-issue shipping container. Robert was a resident of the Undercity, a city built underground, far below London. The melting of the polar ice caps led to the loss of great swathes of land across the Earth. Humanity had already reached to the skies, and now began the conquest of the ground beneath their feet, a resounding victory in the ongoing war against overpopulation. Robert’s home was stacked high atop numerous other shipping containers in a vast shantytown. Despite humanity’s ideals, the pride of the rich forbade them from retreating in the earth, forgoing the bright sun and sweet breeze for the dark caverns beneath. The Undercity was to be humanity’s stronghold, our next great achievement. Now it was left as a slum for the poor, those who no longer had, or could afford, a place in the world above. As the Undercity representative for Intercity Relations, Robert had long been fighting for equal standards of living. The Undercity needed technology, needed resources, needed people like Robert, people who cared. The government of High London had long treated Robert as a nuisance, an infuriating speck of dirt on their polished world. Pulling off the covers, Robert began the motions of his daily routine, but his mind wandered elsewhere. The recurring nightmare had plagued Robert for days, weeks, months, when his meticulous plan had been but a seed in his unconscious. It had taken root and grown, nourished by rejection, dismissal, refusal, again, and again, and again. Today’s events would see if that nightmare became reality. Buttoning his jacket, Robert picked up a battered briefcase and stepped out the door. The Lift towered far above the rest of the Undercity, its reflective walls sticking out like a sore thumb among the rusted shanty stacks. It was one of the few, or perhaps the only, example of High London technology that many residents of the Undercity had seen outside of their vidscreens. By the early 22nd century, High London had achieved technological advancements far beyond we could ever dream. Anti-gravity transport, artificial intelligence, nanotechnology. But the people of the Undercity became stuck in the 21st century, left coughing in the dust of progress. For many, the Lift was their only symbol of hope – a connection to High London, the promise of a better life above ground. Robert stepped onto the platform and breathed in deeply as the harsh white light glared down at him, glared through him, scanning his blood for contaminants. He could feel the sweat gathering in his palm as he gripped the briefcase, hoping that the scanning process only examined organic matter. I can’t reveal what’s inside. Not yet. “Authorisation complete. Welcome aboard, Mr. Melville.” Robert breathed a sigh of relief as he moved to his seat alone, as he always did – Undercity dwellers who had the authorisation or the funds for a journey to the surface were few and far between. As the Lift began to rise, he looked down at his home growing smaller beneath him. The Undercity, using archaic toxic fossil fuels to power its homes while High London reaped the benefits of their new nitrogen battery. The Undercity, dying from diseases and illnesses cured long ago in the city above. The Undercity, a shanty of shipping containers and makeshift homes while glass- and-steel structures soared overhead. I will change your life today, or I will die trying. We all will. He closed his eyes as the speed of the ascension caused an induced loss of consciousness, almost like falling asleep. A flash of light, searing heat, the ground thundering beneath him. A moment passed, and Robert opened his eyes to the gentle beep of the Lift system informing him of their arrival. The Lift had delivered Robert straight to the flood of people that was King’s Cross Station. As Robert walked among the High Londoners, he felt as if every eye watched him, a tense knot forming in his stomach. Do they know?