The gray-black "Gemstone Model 3" carriage drifted around the street corner, sped past the pedestrians, and then screeched to a halt outside the Lyon City Hall amid the coachman's "Wuo" shouts.
The general manager of Grande Manufacturing Company, Flimlan, leapt from the carriage, sprinting toward the finance office with athletic skills difficult to match at 50.
Upon entering the city hall, he finally caught his breath.
There were only five or six people in line ahead of him; he was quite early.
No wonder he was anxious, as no one could be sure how much the compensation would be. If he were late, the funds might be gone, or he'd have to wait a long time, which would be regrettable.
The line moved slowly, prompting him to constantly peer forward, watching the government officials incessantly explain something to the factory owners claiming compensation.
