As a tower, Albalablanch is something of
a monstruousity, an architectural marvel and a maintenance nightmare. Its sheer
size would offer ample space for its population on one level only. Yet,
Albalablanch has a recorded seventy of them, spread over a height of some twenty kilometres.
It would be wrong to infer that each
level is separated from the one above by approximately 330 meters. The average
height is of little significance here. While some levels, particularly the
middle ones, can have up to three kilometres of sky, good-sized hills and deep lakes as well as meteorological phenomenons, other levels, specially the
lower ones, form a mere system of caves, some so low that the population living
there has to stoop. An ideal place for a prison, would you think, and you
couldn't be more wrong. For reasons specific to Albalablanch the prison has
been set up on the highest level, with its innumerable trapholes and its open
roof.
But enough on this topic. Everything in good time. We will come back on the social configuration of the tower. This fascinating subject will unveil as we proceed with our story. As for now,
let's stick to figures : twenty kilometres high, seventy levels (more than half
of which underground for the tower only rises fifteen kilometres above the
desert). Its walls are so thick that they shelter their own indigenous population - a population with a bad reputation, not so much because it lives in the margins
(Albalablanch has many different
margins which are a constant threat to the cohesion of the middle class) than because
it is the only one with - limited - access to the truth.
The maintenance of its walls should really be everybody's concern. But for most of us, sharing a responsibility means that this responsibility is not ours. As a result, after millennia of existence, the
walls of Albalablanch have grown into a weird compound prone to geological
accidents and reshuffling, helped by the fact that, fifteen kilometres above
ground, the climatic conditions are widely different from the warm stable
environment of its lowest caves. The stress induced on the fabric of the
tower is considerable. It releases here and there in thundering cracks, causing in the population closest to its walls epidemics of deafness. This in turn is often used as an excuse by the person who doesn't want to entertain social
conversation : a couple of shouted "WHAT ?" and a pointing at one's
ears stop any inquiry. "He was probably thunderstruck", people whisper, shrugging. And they leave you in peace : being thunderstruck means that you live close to the walls and that, therefore, you will most likely turn out to be some sort of weirdo.
