"Didn’t we try this before? … A few times?…"
Someone finally broke the strained silence and prompted the engineer’s full attention, quickly followed by his thinly veiled ire. The curious head that posed the question merged back into the small crowd that had gathered.
"Of course we’ve done it a couple of times. Each one successively higher than the last, more or less."

Even the engineer tapered off at the end, seemingly less convinced by his own statement. These large columns of humanity housed most of the urban population, keeping them safe from the tide of noxious clouds that lapped at their feet. No one was questioning the intent of the project. The undertone was more about how long it was it going to last this time around.
Myself? I didn’t mind the audacity involved in trying to scrape the stratosphere. It beats trying to go in the opposite direction. Very little good has come from clawing deeper under rocks these past few decades. Not that I don’t advocate reclaiming the depths and our history, I just think our first priority is to cement our survival. Agricultural real estate is always in short supply and last I checked, everyone gets hungry at some point.
The tour proceeded on it’s way down to the valley. It was easy to tell those who haven’t done this before: Constantly checking their exposed skin for blisters or wiping their noses for blood, despite knowing full well that these clouds were pure moisture. Not one iota of miasma. High tide wasn’t happening for another 4 hours, and if there’s something I trust more than our fabled engineers, it’s Mother Nature’s brutal timeliness.