Transport Disaster

Just then my phone started ringing. As if I wasn’t in enough trouble already. I missed a heartbeat or two. Fearing the worst, I walked over to my desk where I had left the damn thing and picked it up to see who was calling.

To my surprise and relief, it was Cedric, my friend who I had called myself just a few hours earlier. There was a message on the screen saying he’d tried to reach me four times already! I held up the device to my ear.

“Frank, at last! There’s a problem.” he said immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Mag-Lev line is dead. I just checked to see what time you’d be arriving, exactly, and there’s no trains at all. Apparently a section of tunnel under the mountains caved in. You’ll have to take an overground railroad, and there’s no way you’re making it to Saint-Mary’s by midday.”

As he spoke I switched on my computer and got onto the world database. The first thing I found on the matter was a video. In the thumbnail you could see the tunnel entrance at Thordon Station, and a reporter standing in front of it, white, milky breasts perfectly in focus. The title mentioned an accident and there being no casualties.

“I’m looking at the news coverage now.” I said. “Oh bother.”

“You haven’t booked a ticket for that train have you?”

“No, no. I was going to do that at the station. I can get a reduction as a student that way.”

“Well what are you going to do now?”

“Let me think a moment.” The floating capsule in the underground Mag-Lev would have carried me clear of the mountains and all the way to the Lacus Solis suburb Cedric had named for me within an hour at most. Given only a little bit of thought, I had planned to leave home around the same time as I would leave for school, lounge around in town somewhere, and then go to the station around 10:40 – 11:10 am at which time there was bound to be a couple of departures available. However, the overground railroad would easily take half a day or more, as not only was the track’s course dictated by the wildly non-linear shape of the narrow valleys in between the mountains, the trains would stop at each and every tiny settlement starting on the edge of the City all the way to the other side. Once clear of the range, I would have to change trains to board one that crossed the plains directly to Lacus Solis, as that vast arable space was almost as densely populated with micro towns as the mountains.

“It’s work season, you know.” said Cedric after I was quiet a while, “With the sort of crowds you’re gonna get boarding and getting off at each stop, you’ll not get anywhere near us until nightfall tomorrow. Not unless you set out at midnight tonight...”

“I mean, I can do that, you know. There are trains at all hours, and there shouldn’t be anybody up and about here at home at that time.”

Cedric didn’t sound convinced. “You’d be exhausted by the end of it. You know something’s going to go mildly wrong on the way, don’t you? Passenger didn’t get off in time, a door gets stuck, luggage forgotten on the platform, a bunch of little things always happen. You’re bound to do something stupid under the stress. Everybody does on that trip. There have been studies into it.”

“I’d forgotten how Mother-Hen-ish you are,” I chuckled, “but what’s the worst that can happen if I’m travelling away from the crazies? Once I get to you it’s over...”

“I’m being pragmatic. We’re trying to rescue each other from madness by banding together; strength in numbers etc. Once you’re here we need a plan fast. I told you, the coppers here don’t say anything about the newcomers from your parts, even though there are still a couple of laws they could nick them with. What if we have to go offworld pronto? You need to be in good enough shape that you can recover quickly. That’s why your trip needs prep time. You lose a little now to gain much more later.”

There was sense in what he was saying. But I still wanted an argument for haste. “See, looking at the ticket prices for the overground,” I said, “it’s much cheaper to travel at night than during the day. I have no income, and I don’t think you have one – how much older than me are you?”

I’m still a student.”

“Well, we need some all the shrapnel we can get, to get offworld, for instance. I’m already saving like, 20 Rust; it says here I can save another thirty if I take the 12:46 tonight.”

“Well, it’s up to you. Just try not to be a dead weight by the time you arrive. There’s nothing less awkward to drag around than a tired Terran.”

“Hey, only my dad was from Earth.” I retorted, “And he was light as a feather considering.”

“Right you are. Keep me posted. And keep your phone around you.”

“I’m sorry; I had to finger my sister, and then I narrowly escaped an impromptu orgy with my mum’s friends.”

“That’s disgusting. I feel really bad for you.”

“Oh, much appreciated. I’ll keep in touch.”

As I hung up I gave a little more thought to my options than was possible when managing a conversation on the phone. Cedric was right, of course. It was likely the long trip would be horrifically long, drawn out and stressful, and without prep it could leave me as more of a burden than anything of use to either of us. That said, any number of things could happen during prep time that would make it all for naught. I’d seen no sign of any thought police, but there had to be some equivalent organisation. I couldn’t see the overturning of mores being anything other than a premeditated mind control experiment, especially considering the psychedelic **** element. Someone was pulling strings somewhere, and they would care that there were puppets bouncing around not attached.

**** was going to be ideal.