Air Mines. Urban Space Station

Air Mines The sky over the city's port was the color of a faulty screen, only partly lit up. As the silhouette of nearby buildings became darker, but more clearly visible against the fading blur-filter of a background, the realization came about how persistent a change had been taking place. Slowly, old wooden water reservoirs and rattling HVAC systems stopped being the only inhabitants of roofs. Slightly trembling, milkish jellyfish-translucent air volumes had joined the show in multiples. A few years ago artists and architects seized upon the death of buildings as their life-saving media. Equipped with constructive atlases and instruments they started disemboweling their subjects, poking about their systems, dumping out on the street the battered ugliness of their embarrassing bits and pieces, so rightly hidden by facades and height from everyday view. But, would you believe it? Even ?old ladies?, investment bankers or small children failed to get upset. Of course, old ladies are not what they used to be. It was old ladies themselves that made it happen after years of fights with the town hall, imaginative proposals and factual arguments. An industry with little financial gains but lots of welcome externalities was not, in fact, the ground for investment bankers. But they too had to admit that having otherwise stately buildings make fine particulate pencils with their facades was not the worse that could happen. Yes, making soot pencils had been found an interesting and visible end product of the endeavor, a sort of mining the air for vintage writing tools one can actually touch. The new view from the street did not seem as solid or dignified as that of old, and they hated that the market for Fine Particulates Extraction (FPE, read efpee) had to be applied on a matrix of blocks and streets that prevented undue concentration of the best or worse solutions. It had to be an evenly distributed city policy in order for the city to apply for cleaning casino money. Once the first prototypes had been deployed in buildings siding Garden Avenue or Bulwark Street even fast movers appreciated the sidekick of flower and plant smell dripping down the Urban Space Stations (USS, read use; USSs, read uses) as air and walls cooled off for a few hours after sunset. Enough. It was all nice to remember, but it was now time to go up and start the lightweight afternoon maintenance of their USS. Coop discussions had taken place all through the planning and continued through the construction phase as to how maintenance was going to be organized. Fasters had voted for a pro, pay a small amount and let them use it for rent and produce. In the end some neighbors decided they were slow enough to take care and it was now the turn. Regret came periodically, sometimes a week before, and lasted until work actually started. But lately it had been replaced by anxiety when it needed to be passed over to the next caretaker. It did not look their shift was good enough and couldn?t wait to fix it. Today small preparations needed to be made for a class visit next day from a nearby cook school. They were frequenters. It had not been easy, but it shouldn?t have been that hard. In the end, even the easiest things are hard if they involve a city, buildings and neighbors. On the face of the data, the technicalities and the way final designs had been worked out for adaptation to the different settings, the decision of where to go was self evident, but organization issues and the ever-growing politics of taste in a city of already-gentrified-rodents almost put the project in the frozen orbit of timeless beautiful future possibilities. This is how it was. A series of designs by XClinic and OSS had made it possible to adapt to different building structures, leave in most cases the roof untouched and adapted a new technology of flexing fiberglass tubes that dissipated wind pressure in smooth bending.......