By holoz0r on Skatehive
Uneven terrain rumbled the chasis of the automated truck. Once, a diesel electric powertrain. Now the sounds hydraualics only. The sound of screeching, eager to be replaced brakes replaced by whirring dynamos and air resistance. The truck's livery was plain, a light weight frame defying its purpose. Start. Stop. Collect. Start. Stop. Collect. It visited every home, once a week, ceaseless. A neighbourhood santa, persistent in the mists of early winter, and the scorching rays of summer. A fleet crisscrossed the city, and dumped their contents into what was no longer called the dump, but the site now known as the urban mine, where every shred of household waste was carefully inspected for reuse, raw resource value, or wether it should be converted to eletrical energy to enable the truck's next jaunt. In a way, the trucks were collecting their own energy. Not as mobile furnances, but as a system of resource collection. Several thousand drivers lost their jobs in this city alone. They were