Friction. Heat. Waste. That's all a walk was to the Board. In Aethelgard, your legs weren't your own. They were 'Biological-Levers'. Every step you took on the corporate pavement was 'Kinetic-Dissipation'. A theft of energy. Solar didn't care about the destination; he cared about the 'Wear-and-Tear' on the city's concrete.
Solar stood on the "Observation-Gantry". Below him, thousands of workers were shuffling. Grey. Slow. Like a river of sludge. CLACK. SCRAPE. CLACK. The sound of boots hitting the floor wasn't a rhythm. It was a bill.
"Elias. Row 9," Solar said. His voice was a rusted blade. He didn't point; he just stared at a young man lifting his knees too high. "Excessive-Momentum. He's burning through the 'Friction-Permit' like it's free water. Audit him. Now."
Elias leaned against the cold railing. He looked chewed up. Spit out by a turbine. Sweat dripped off his chin, landing on his dusty boots with a tiny PLIP. His eyes were twitching, watching the 'Step-Counters'. "The... the streets are gridlocked, Solar. People are standing still. Scared to move. One fast walk to the store costs more than a day's rations. They're 'Static-Hoarding'."
Solar didn't move his head. He just let the heavy tip of his bone-handled cane drop, the metal end biting into the iron grate with a sharp, ugly CLANG. No swing. Just dead weight. "Static-Hoarding? No. They're 'Kinetic-Defaulters'. If they aren't moving, they aren't generating 'System-Flow'. Why is that girl limping, Elias? Trying to avoid the 'Equal-Step-Distribution' tax? Add a 'Symmetry-Penalty' of 75% to anyone not walking in a perfect line. Movement is a service. And the sidewalk? The sidewalk has a meter."
A "Kinetic-Siphon" under the pavement began to hum. A bone-shaking vibration. Sucking the heat from the workers' footsteps to power the neon lights of the High-Sector. HUMMM. VIBRATE. Solar didn't flinch. He watched the "Step-Revenue" bars on his tablet climb into a bruised purple.
"You're taxing the ground, Solar!" A voice hissed from a vent. The Shadow. His silver mask was scratched, reflecting dull grey light. "You've turned a walk home into a death-sentence! You're a fucking shackle!"
Solar didn't turn. He stared at his scratched watch. The gears inside were grinding. SCRAPE. CLICK. To him, those clicks were miles of unpaid travel. "A shackle? No, ghost. I'm a 'Mechanical Auditor'. The Board built the roads. The Board maintained the gravity. Every step is a 'Usage-Fee'. They don't like the price? They can sit down and rot. But wait—there's a 'Vagrancy-Tax' for that too."
Sensors in the floor caught a sudden run. Someone was panicking. A mechanical shriek. SCREECH. ALARM.
"The audit is moving to the joints, ghost!" Solar shouted over the hum. Eyes cold. Frozen grease. "Everything is an asset! Every step is a transaction! I'll tax the stride! I'll audit the bone! I'll put a price on the last inch you crawl before the ledger shuts you down!"
Solar turned. Walked away. Boots clicked. Sharp. Each step a calculated expense. CLICK. CLICK. No guilt. No fatigue. Just math.
"Elias!"
"Y-yes... sir?"
"The ones standing still. Don't let them rest. Sell them 'Stationary-Access-Passes' at a 300% markup. They want to stay in one spot? They pay the 'Space-Occupancy-Tax'. The world is a machine, Elias. And I own the gears."
Solar disappeared into the vacuum-sealed lift. He didn't look back. The interest never sleeps. The Ledger was hungry for the next mile.