Villas and sunshine
The Hills are what their name indicates. Hills. Tall hills from where you can contemplate the entire city. At least when the smokes dissipate. The view from there is fascinating at night. A great sea of lights and lives extending itself toward the ocean.
The Hills are not only attracting the romantic souls taking their partner for a car ride to watch the city lights, it also is one of the most expensive spot to live in.
Rich people from the city are all fighting for an opportunity to buy one of those gigantic mansions perched like odd birds on the rocks along Gallia drive.
Businessmen, politicians, music stars and actors from the entertainment industry, they all have their villas in the Hills. And if they don’t, they are probably just waiting for the next opportunity to buy!
We are talking about an outrageous quality of life here. Artificial gardeners, security drones, electric shields and everything necessary to protect the owners and their swimming pools. Sun boosters, rain shields and air purifiers are running 24/7 in order to maintain the illusion of a life style that disappeared with the Collapse. And yet, the rich citizens are happy to take advantage of all the new things money can afford. Most of the villas in the Hills are equipped with a landing pad on their roofs, large enough to park two or three Sky Cars. Just think about it, we pledged to serve the people of this city, and we have less than 40 Air Interceptor units on the roof of the Nest, while every single one of these people has one or two individual S-Cars.
And this is also why the Hills are divided into three small sectors: they all have their own Police forces and general resources. Some folks say that getting promoted and spending the rest of your RPD career working in the Hills is the ultimate sweet deal. I would not be so sure. I don’t think dealing with these people is worth the view.
A view to kill for
People who decide to live in the Hills must have some kind of sadistic megalomania going on. I don’t want to make oversimplified generalizations, but you just need to take a ride on Gallia Dr to see what I am talking about. The road serpents from the bottom of the Hills in Sector 3 and crosses Sector 2,4,5 and 6, all the way down to the clean streets of West Jefferson. A long drive on the ridge. From there you can contemplate all the misery around. The City in all its dark industrial, hi-tech splendor. The fog, the fumes, and the towers everywhere, black monoliths piercing through the mist.
On the southern side, the residents of the Hills can contemplate the Old Wall of Retrocity, and the original city it encloses. Heart of darkness tainted by its own sinister history. Old Retrocity is more active nowadays and the increasing population issues are driving investors back to the area. They try to make clients and future residents forget what it once was: a massive city locked and cut from the outside world, an experimental jail for the Corporation to use as a testing ground on the citizens themselves. And yet, without the original Retrocity Project, I would probably not be typing these lines today. But I digress.
On the northern side of the Hills, the Production Fields. Synthetics fields, where workers and drones are shortening their existence in order to provide the food and other goods necessary for the daily consumption by the Citizens. And then, in the distance, the deserts, the rocks. The Wastelands.
You see my point? From the Hills, one can contemplate misery. Are the Hills residents blind to it? Or do they enjoy it? I’d say it create a nice contrast that helps them feel even better for what they have. And yet, I’m just a bitter old cop. Old enough to tell you that it’s true what they say: money cannot buy happiness. The police reports from the Hills are scary to look at: drug, murders, suicides, domestic violence … it’s no different from anywhere else. It just happens between shiny walls.
As always, keep in mind that the content posted here is a work in progress and subject to change!