Board Thread:Lores/@comment-30517583-20170815110647

Kingstreet is a small city, seemingly dropped out of the sky onto a piece of barren rock in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the Atlantic. Decades before the outbreak, a government yearning for attention from more powerful, more influential countries, had drawn up a plan for a feat of engineering genius (and stupidity) that would serve as a trade hub just by sitting in the middle of the Atlantic.

The said government, thinking it was ever-so-smart, began preparations for the vast engineering stunt that they would perform, pouring millions into the project. Vainly thinking that money would overcome all hurdles, the Department for Infrastructure in the said government proclaimed that they could grow the city in less than 5 years.

Massive freighters, filled to the brim with explosives, equipment and machinery, sailed for the island within the first week of the Department's claims.

However, the engineers in control of the project, upon reaching the island, fell into despair.

The Department had demanded that they could finish building within 5 years, but sheer engineering logic proved otherwise.

The island was not the optimum building site that the engineers had been promised. Led in by how easy the Department made building on the island seem, they had stumbled onto a trap.

Sheer rock walls glared outwards from every direction. There was a small bay that the engineers could lead their massive ships into, albeit two at a time. The bay was not even fit for beaching their ships in, and in the first week small teams had to be landed by speedboats to construct rudimentary piers that could withstand the weight of hundreds of construction crates and heavy machinery, from bulldozers to massive cranes, all using handtools and a small digger that they had managed to bring to the shore by calling in a military Chinook to bring it to the building site, mostly thanks to the Department's high status from the project.

After several weeks, though, the project was well under way, the drone of heavy machinary and the whining sound of cranes ringing throughout the island as resources from the two ships docked in the bay. The other ships in the fleet (numbering 4 ships) anchored away from the island, staying away from the jagged coastline and prefering not to risk sinking at the hands of an underwater reef.

As the engineers prepared to build the foundations of the island city, they ran into the second problem.

The whole island was literally a floating rock covered by mountainous land, all formed out of hardened limestone, probably made at the hands of an undersea volcano. Excavating the foundations for a city would take decades, even if all the manpower and hardware could be put straight to work without any breaks or rest. Blasting the foundations would have to be carefully controlled, and a single mistep could spell disaster for the project. Calling off the project and saying that it was undoable would probably end in a fierce propoganda and the words 'off to gulag'.

Eventually, the engineers decided to call home and be branded as enemies of the state.

However, when they picked up the radio, there was nothing but white noise on the other end.



To be continued?  