4 .
"Oh heroes and heroines of the modern world, pay heed to the histories of thine conquerors of worlds, from the sharp wits of our founding father, came our prosperity, from his brave countenance, we gained ability and courage, from his noble sacrifices we gained sustenance.
From the arms of the great councils we have attained a beauty inextinguishable within human space!".
'Freedom, is only attainable in death'.
The heavy rains had put a sudden end to the evening's bustle, the streets had instead been replaced by quiet murmurs and jubilant sounds of kids playing in the forming puddles, one in particular screamed as he was mercilessly pinched by an annoyed adult.
Thin rivulets led the accumulating waters down the walls, then the windows automatically cleansed themselves.
The skies hundreds of meters above hummed in activity, it was no wonder that most of the paths below had experienced lesser pelting in comparison with the sky line.
Air-cars flew about in processions, bumper to bumper formation, as though leading the vessels of the departed from the cold morgues to their burial grounds.
A few more hundreds of meters in altitude, vessels as long as some of the tall structures within this exuberant city, slowly climbed into or from the maddened clouds.
"As a mighty bastion providing light in this unstable accursed void, Lincoln, the mighty capital of this united republic is truly a wonder to all, especially those who desire to feast their eyes on the united cultures of it's unique people".
"Lincoln (I) valiantly orbits Casper, much like the founding father, a fixed star that provides us purpose and an identity as a mighty branch of the human race.
Home to the state's finest warehouses and ship building ports, the dry docks are surely a wonder to all weary travelers, reveling within the wonders and beauty of the ever expanding boundaries of existence.
Making space a premium good in this industrial marvel, the exuberant atmosphere and experienced handlers makes it worth of it's stellar reviews on the best location to have your docking and space faring needs settled!".
Matilda, a woman, barely past her thirties, tiredly massaged her delicate but furrowed brows. She slowly looked up from her hunched up siting posture.
The audible snap of her spine and the brief expression of pain made for a pitiful sight. The dark hair flowing down her shoulders barely moved as she craned her neck.
Being an editor and spokesperson of his excellency Hunter S Normann was not as easy a task as those desiring the spot had come to believe.
Having to read through pure rubbish, or incredibly prideful speeches, obviously not suitable for public use, and having the sole responsibility of having to pull out useful bits, rather than fully writing her own was mind numbing at best.
Such a rare sight to see, a president specifically requesting his officers not to write him speeches accorded to their profession. Speeches written in pure monotone hold no inspiration for the illustrious citizens of the republic, he said.
Staring lethargically at the dense droplets that heavily pelted the cityscape, as though the god of romance was weeping the festering death of love, the silence suddenly attracted her attention to such a strange thought, she found the whole situation a bit comical.
Managing to pull her gaze away from the bright streaks painfully butchering the weeping skies, she then took a brief moment to compose herself, before placing considerable effort to pull her head back into reading the odd script that washed her brown eyes with uncomfortable light, she lowered the brightness subconsciously, while rubbing the surface of the table before her, appreciating the cool feel.
"Lincoln (ii) a stable home for the republic's finest. A firm habitat to the serpent's scepter's deadliest.
The mighty father's valiance and loyal legion gained us fervor from clever allies and dread from those that wished us harm. At the heart of what the great conquerors of past left us, our military silently orbits close to all that makes the republic thrum in vitality".
He silently stared at the hubbub of activity on a folded screen, the heavy rain incapable of disturbing his serene face. The canvas covering him acting as a trove of of small to medium wonders.
A tall building, the arrogant winds up here were rather refreshing. The man scratched his cheek, the thick rubbery gloves he wore produced an odd squelch, with the screen before him switching focus, it now depicted a wide range, the elevation was so high that the cameras almost ignored the mounts that held them within the edges of this tall structure.
He silently and methodically scanned the streets below from up high, he also kept his focus on the entrance of his current residence.
"Lincoln (iii) the lungs of our great nation, purifying the air the body needs to move and serve for the betterment of the race!
Home to trade, a vital network for the resources that enriches our lives, an important infrastructure that allows the growth and procurement of resources that give us tremendous strength!".
He zoomed continuously till the image before him displayed a well lit warm room. The two clover truss within the flower pots arranged by the glass walls would be quite aromatic in this weather, the man smiled to himself as he inhaled.
The now raised scope had a woman within it's cross-hairs, she was staring intensely at a screen before her face, the interaction of light and her pale skin and dark hair gave her a calming charm.
"Lincoln (iv) the living, beating heart of the major general Colin Lincoln, the founding father, through which his blood-boiling conquest through space gave us a graceful home to grow and develop.
The administration center and the brain that manages the whole, truly a blessing to be of birth from this great exalted nation".
A deep sigh, one that reached down to the woman's very roots of sanity, silently escaped her mouth, she quietly eyed her silent surroundings, then could not suppress the deep yawn that ended in a confusing moan.
Having been through some articles as she prepared for the upcoming state ceremonies, she could confidently remark that she had read and seen a lot, but this…
when thinking of this, only one word would fittingly slide in with this form of passage.
'How BOLD!' she remarked in a low chuckle.
But the man on the other side of the storm stared in stalking silence, an experienced hunter, calmly observing the aloofness of his prey.
The finger lightly pressed against the rough metallic trigger twitched, and so did the woman in his scope as she reached to scratch her itchy neck.
A sharp blinding burst of light.
BANG!
Tearing apart the slowly gathering calm, the loud peals of thunder hid a deeper and sinister cocaphony.
As the flashes lit everything in white and pale blue, the office walls lit up with red and foggy grey, except, these vibrant colors were moving, sliding slowly down onto the smooth woolen carpet.
The white petals, now having gained crimson spots as decoration, made it some form of bizarre piece of art, but that was inadequate in calming them from trembling in the harsh incoming winds.
The man slowly roused himself from the canvas, then calmly approached the edge, what a brave soul, staring down at oblivion from the high skies.
'Freedom, is only attainable in death'.
He touched the railing, registering the cold dampness, he felt the metal slowly heat up.
The man eyed the city full of life, how long the peace here would last?, maybe only the almighty gods themselves could tell.
With practiced ease he climbed upon the metal railing, then threw himself over the ledge.
'Freedom and death, the irony'.
The rain did not let up, that too, even after hammering the roofs for over two hours.
