Situation normal, All smogged up

5/16/11  at 1:01 AM
From our New Babbage correpondent, Beq Janus

As previously reported the pigmented attacks on New Babbage were defeated after a combined assault by the New Babbage navy and an ad-hoc group of New Babbage citizens. And now, as the ship lays stricken in the port still leaking its foul cargo into the sea, the city is faced with the challenge of removing the visible stains left by the onslaught.

I write this evening to report on some degree of success. I had been pondering upon the matter of paint removal at length, faced with the undesirable task of scrubbing my properties clean of the purple stain. Yet it is to a pair of young urchins that I must assign the credit for what has come to pass.

"I quite loiked that there purpal", remarked a grubby faced young girl, as the pair passed me by. I was knelt by my doorstep with a jar of dilute acid, removing the paint. "It were all summery and noice, loike the weffer 'as bin". Her companion, looked up at the sky, and nodded, a little look of puzzlement upon his face.

"Oi don' know wots goin' on wiv it all. Never know'd the Sun to shine 'ere.", he remarked, "Ois not seen no rain since Mundy".

And they were right. The sun never shines here, not like this, the ever present smog had thinned, the boilers and furnaces of the city had run low, either sealed with paint or their owners distracted by the bombardment. The skies had cleared and no rains had fallen.

It so happens that I have recently been studying a work of scientific literature by a Mr Robert Angus Smith, published a few years ago, in 1852, but recently brought to our venerable library. In his work Mr Smith showed the relationship of atmospheric pollution to the Ph of the precipitation, something he termed "acid rain".

I looked down at the jar of acid in my hand as the idea struck me. Within a few minutes I was running across the city to my factory, a sorry sight, itself, all daubed in mauve. My factory is responsible for the production of much of the fresh air pumped into the tunnels of the vernian sea. Air sucked in from the atmosphere and scrubbed clean by the complicated mechanism within. the idea was simple enough and within a few hours the necessary adjustments were in place.

I threw the lever that re-engaged the drive to the large fans above my head. Fans that would now run backwards. The air scrubber had become the polluter. pushing vast amounts of concentrated soot and filth back inot the air, within minutes a dark cloud was forming above my property, soon it was spreading across the city, blotting out the sun. Temperatures dropped and in answer to our wishes the skies clouds cooled and rain fell opnce more upon the city. In hindsight, perhaps I should have warned people to stay inside as testing the rain with a little litmus showed it to be considerbaly more acidic than regular rain. It was not long before the paint began to fall away, washed off and dissolved by the downpour.

I sat back and watched the rain fall, smiling to myself as little by little my beloved city returned back to its rusty brown hues.

Thank you to all who helped with this event and the little stories weaved around it.
The vendors (bombs) placed around the city were succesful and at the time of collection had registered over 18,000 Linden dollars (including a special matching donation from a generous Steampunk).

Thank you to everyone, for having a little fun with this.

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