On the fringe of a world decimated and devolved by its own sun, small frontier towns thrive in direct defiance of expectation and general misconception. The Fringe is supposed to be an irradiated wasteland. So the majority of the world’s population chooses to live in sheltered ignorance within their overcrowded dome cities. It’s safe. It’s tightly regulated. It’s incarceration for the free spirit.
Fringers are supposed to be crazy, dangerous, and too ignorant to have the common sense to avoid the toxic levels of solar radiation plaguing the wide-open spaces of the world. But the pioneers and entrepreneurs who make the Fringe their home are not as unbalanced as the ‘civilized’ world thinks they are. They have adapted to their environment. They reuse and repurpose and make the most out of the limited resources available to them. Theirs is a world of invention, innovation, and endless possibility. It’s also fraught with peril as the playground for brazen opportunists.
Domers live in comfortable predictability, protected from what they see as a hostile and unforgiving world. Weather, seasons, and fresh air are not even part of the common consciousness, and the people are happy with that. They have everything that they need in a carefully-controlled environment where the fundamental societal problems that were rampant before the Blast have all but been eradicated. The dome cities are far from utopia, though. There are plenty who barely survive, stuck in the unacknowledged mire of poverty. They are the ones who desperately want to escape. They’re the ones with no means to do so.
Each society is separate, isolated. Each knows the other exists, yet relegates it as different, lesser, wrong. But there are those who challenge those beliefs. They’re not content with labels and pigeonholes. They’re the ones who strive to make the world better for everyone. They are the ones with the ability to change it.
Fringers are supposed to be crazy, dangerous, and too ignorant to have the common sense to avoid the toxic levels of solar radiation plaguing the wide-open spaces of the world. But the pioneers and entrepreneurs who make the Fringe their home are not as unbalanced as the ‘civilized’ world thinks they are. They have adapted to their environment. They reuse and repurpose and make the most out of the limited resources available to them. Theirs is a world of invention, innovation, and endless possibility. It’s also fraught with peril as the playground for brazen opportunists.
Domers live in comfortable predictability, protected from what they see as a hostile and unforgiving world. Weather, seasons, and fresh air are not even part of the common consciousness, and the people are happy with that. They have everything that they need in a carefully-controlled environment where the fundamental societal problems that were rampant before the Blast have all but been eradicated. The dome cities are far from utopia, though. There are plenty who barely survive, stuck in the unacknowledged mire of poverty. They are the ones who desperately want to escape. They’re the ones with no means to do so.
Each society is separate, isolated. Each knows the other exists, yet relegates it as different, lesser, wrong. But there are those who challenge those beliefs. They’re not content with labels and pigeonholes. They’re the ones who strive to make the world better for everyone. They are the ones with the ability to change it.
Sixty-four years ago, the Blast changed everything. The modern, interconnected world died and two disparate societies took its place. The pioneers founded their own world in the frontier of the Fringe. The rest crowded themselves into dome cities and cut themselves off from the world. Fringer or Domer. One or the other. Never both. Until now. |
It’s been seven years since a depraved act of maniacal egotism altered a family, a whole town, and a young man’s life forever. A sheltered, privileged boy abducted from his bed in the dead of night. He was never found. And the criminal responsible disappeared along with him. Though the trail is long cold, the ones left behind to grieve still hope for closure. |
History has a way of protecting itself. Reinventing society can’t erase the past. There are those seeking the vestiges of antiquity, looking for the enduring legacies of the ancients. Some search for knowledge, for truth. But the ones chasing mythical energy sources purported to be more powerful than the Blast itself are the most dangerous. They’re the ones out to destroy everything. |
Truth is supposed to be the great equalizer. Facts, evidence, sworn testimony. The hallmarks of justice. But when proof is hidden, reality becomes the province of perception. And perception is far too easily manipulated. Unseen threats turn to evil incarnate. Selfish privilege breeds corruption. And prejudice keeps those worthy of redemption from finding salvation. Truth is nothing but a dream. |
Copyright © 2023 Leah Ross