Dystopic

Prompt:  4s There were spaceships leaving the city. Back and forth, like things sliding along a thread, but there was only one thread of power, of course. Part of the city, the lower part, was brightly lit with what must have been a mercury vapor glow, I decided. Blue green. I was sure that men didn't live there – the light was unsuitable for their eyes. But the top of the city was poorly lit. Then I saw something falling from the sky. It was well lit. And he sank straight into the center of the great black and silver mass of the city. where the city was deserted. There were machines walking the streets, fixing machines, you know. They couldn't understand that the city didn't need to keep working, so they kept working. The city was clean and organized. The city was divided into two sections, a section of many strata where the machines ran smoothly except for a deep beat that echoed throughout the city like a vast, never-ending song of power. The entire metallic structure of the place echoed with it, transmitted it, hummed with it. The entire lower city block was turned over to the machines. Thousands. But most of them seemed idle or at most running under light load. I recognized a telephone device and received no signal. There was no life in the city. Finally I climbed to the top of the city, the upper level. It was a paradise. There were bushes and trees and parks, shining in the soft light they had learned to make in the air itself. They learned this five million years or more earlier. Two million years ago they forgot. But the machines didn't do it and they still did it. It hung in the air, with a soft, silvery, slightly pinkish light, and the gardens were dark with it. There were no machines here now, but I knew that in the light of day they must come out and work in these gardens, making them a paradise for the masters who died and stopped moving.