He said no more to his driver, cont

He said no more to his driver, content to drink and watch the dreary cityscapes of Kiavahr go by. There were perks to being a guilder. His car thrummed down the smooth surfaces of priority traffic lanes past lines of boxy serf cars conveying the work force to and from their manufactoria. Giant haulers chugged down the wide cargo way dividing public and private lanes, their enormous wheels supporting building-sized trailers. Atop the massive tractor units to the front were tiny pilot blisters housing servitors. The power of their engines set up a brief musical thrumming in the windows of Aranan’s limo as he sped past each one.