Several years pass, and Hell continues to grow, slowly spilling out into the surrounding hills and valleys.
A new development thrives to the east of the original settlement, though it’s still polluted and crime-ridden. The presence of the stately city hall building makes this street a little classier than the rest, however.
The mayor makes a point of visiting the city assembly as little as possible. Whenever he shows up there, the newly elected representatives of Hell’s wards ask him a lot of questions that he doesn’t have answers to. Like “where’s the running water in my constituents’ ward” or “why is there a constant light blue cloud of fog hanging over the industrial district.” Better for the mayor to stay in his office, where security can make sure those troublemakers can’t get to him so easily.
City Hall does more than look pretty. It allows the player to find out how much of his city’s currently developed land is being used for what purpose. Not terribly useful, but it’s more information, at least.
The mayor finally caved to public pressure and approved the construction of a hospital and a school. The hospital so that Hell’s residents can live longer for the purpose of paying more taxes, and the school so that the children of Hell’s growing population can at least learn to count change and use manufacturing machinery without getting their arms chopped off.
Big news arrives: the aeroplane has been invented! This means we can build an aeroport. Only we can’t, because each airport tile costs $250 and you need at least a 2×6 block of airport tiles to build a functioning one.
Aside from breaking news, the Courier still carries concerns about the city’s pollution. Typical liberal media scare tactics.
What the reporter didn’t catch was the mayor’s sarcastic tone when he said the municipality would assess the pollution problem. He set up a “Pollution Commission” five years ago at the insistence of his advisors and it met a grand total of three times, and all three times the whole commission just decided to adjourn to the bar downstairs because it didn’t have a budget to actually do anything.
At least the city’s finances are healthy. Those oppressive interest payments are still due at the end of every year, but the city can afford to make them now. Of course, the city’s advisors want to make absolutely sure that that won’t be the case anymore by touting their pet projects.
Let me tell you who it wouldn’t benefit, Ms. Health Advisor: smokers. If the citizens of Hell don’t want to breathe in smoke, they can hold their breaths. Or buy gas masks, because most of the city’s air is pretty hard to breathe without a filter.
Of course, the same advisor has another brilliant scheme:
Since the mayor is unelected in this game, he doesn’t really give a fuck whether he’s popular. He does give a fuck whether something is expensive, though. No free clinics.
Let’s hear from the city’s other advisors.
Absolutely not. Hell Technical Institute is school enough for the little bastards.
Never mind. We’ve heard enough from the city’s advisors. These idiots actually think pollution is a problem. It can’t be that much of a problem if people are still moving in and adding to the taxpayer base.
The city’s sirens sound as a thick cloud of smog, thicker than usual, ascends from the industrial zone and blankets a corner of the neighborhood. Since this is an emergency, the game pauses and we now have the option to send police and firefighters to the scene. The mayor promptly dispatches firetrucks from the city’s two fire stations to resolve the situation.
The firemen arrive, get out of their trucks and look at the cloud of smog, unsure of what to do about it. One firefighter suggests shooting water at it with the hose. Another firefighter calls him a dumbass.
Eventually the cloud dissipates and the firefighters return to their stations.
After every disaster, the city paper puts out a special report. The headline “Hell is Toxic” seems like a reasonable one, considering that we’re in Hell and that it is in fact pretty toxic.
Fortunately, though, the pollution scare doesn’t seem to have had much of an effect on anything. It caused a few buildings in the southeastern corner of the crater to turn abandoned, but they were reoccupied shortly after. Still, the incident finally pushes the mayor to institute pollution controls, if only for the good press and to attract more residents to Hell.
Pollution controls cost serious money. And it’s not too obvious that they’re working. This abandoned building, for example, is still home to heavy pollutants. In a way it’s good that it’s abandoned, because it probably isn’t fit for humans to live or work in under any circumstances.
Hell is still pollution-ridden, crime-ridden and full of angry citizens with no access to running water. And while it’s receiving a positive cash flow, it’s also still very far from paying off the $20,000 principal on its bonds. Will Hell pull itself out of its stagnation? Don’t ask the mayor, because he doesn’t know. Also, you probably can’t ask him, because he’s siphoned off some of the tax revenue coming in to hire more security.