After half an hour of driving, Mavis and Lorenzo arrived at a massive dome that almost reached the roof of the cavern New Melbourne and its surrounding towns resided in. Lorenzo drove toward the entrance of the dark dome, presenting a card key to lift the boom gate.
As the path cleared, Lorenzo continued forward. Darkness gave way to the brightest light Mavis had seen in years. The cold, rough landscape of the cave transformed suddenly into luscious fields. The dark roof of rock appeared now as a bright sky of blue, so beautiful it brought tears to Mavis’ eyes. To her right, she could see a vast ocean that took her breath away.
“What is this place?” she uttered.
“Welcome to the Mornington Peninsula,” said Lorenzo, pulling out some sunglasses from the glovebox and slipping them on. “A paradise for the elite, where luxury home designers are never out of work. And before you ask, yes, those are real sheep.”
Mavis’ jaw dropped at the thought of clothes made from soft wool and of eating delicious pieces of lamb. Delicacies from an age long gone. Ones she’d never expected to see again. And yet the elites were here, in this little bubble of bliss as if the world had never ended.
It wasn’t real, of course. The sheep, maybe. But the ocean? A salty wave pool with clever boundaries to make it seem endless. The sky? A mere projection. Enough to remind the rich of the home they’d destroyed so that they could pretend nothing had ever happened.
No, now they got to live out their lives in homes built by luxury builders based on the Mornington Peninsula, while the rest of the people they’d doomed barely scraped by in an underground hell. Mavis’ fist closed tight. Perhaps she was starting to see why Dirk and the others wanted to bring these rich tossers down.
If Lorenzo’s boss wanted the same thing, perhaps they’d have a partnership of sorts indeed.