In the City of Flesh and Rust

The conductor looked out at the passengers of his car, all shaking in their seats with anticipation as they approached their destination.

It hadn't been a long journey--not for him, anyway. He'd traveled on week-long excursions across the continent on a few occasions, whereas today's crew was only pulling into the station after a peaceful ten-hour trudge through the wilderness.

All of the faces looking up at him now were just waiting for their chance to get up out of their seats, take their bags and personal items, and shove past him without even thanking him by name. To where? The smog-covered city of Lincoln, Nebraska. Home to one of the largest populations of cypeople in North America, Lincoln was a hub for anyone looking to make it big in any part of the body-modding industry. And from the looks of his car's passengers, they knew it just as well as he.

One of the men, who had introduced himself as Horatio to one of the other people assigned to his booth, was clearly trying to write or draw something on a napkin, evidently hit with a sudden spark of inspiration. However, his hand was shaky, and not just from the rumble of the train. He looked fidgety and agitated, but if anyone else noticed, they didn't press him on it.

The conductor was surprised to recognize a very familiar face in the coach booths of his train car in Bella Riviera Arroyo, the celebrity upgrade model. He had seen her shining silver legs and toned, polished chest on billboards across the country. Famous for setting trends for both genders, either bringing people on-board the cyborg train or leading the way with new advances in replacements or designs. What she was doing here, on a public train back home to Lincoln was beyond him.

One of the young men up front caught the conductor's eye with his many glances up. At first, he was flattered--the conductor didn't often get compliments on his hanging organic cock, especially when cy-dicks were becoming such a prevalent feature for frequent travelers. However, after a few polite smiles were not returned, it was clear that the barely-legal boy was more concerned than flirtatious. As though he were on edge. With a casual glimpse down at the passenger's notebook--which was labeled with the name 'Richter'--the conductor caught sign of what looked to be some cyber-leg designs. Was he inventing something? Even if so, the conductor didn't care enough to try to get a better look; it wasn't like he was smart enough to steal the blueprints and pass them off as his own, anyway.

As the train slowed to a crawl, rearing into the station, the chugging, grinding sound of the wheels that had drowned out most other conversation in the car faded away, and with its passing, the conductor heard the loud, organic moans of a woman in the back booth of his train car.

After a cursory, investigative glance, he had to step back and physically keep his mouth from dropping to the floor. He couldn't believe that not only was there an international celebrity aboard with him, but a popular local one, too--jilling herself right in the back of her booth! The young woman with bright blue hair, he recognized, was Gianna, the premier host of cypeople-orgies in Lincoln. His mind briefly passed on wondering why she had left the city at all, but quickly moved on to observing what she was doing. With one hand between her legs and the other outstretched and grasping a cell phone, it was clear she was nearing the climax of one of her masturbatory livestreams, announcing and working up excitement for her next event. Her moans reached their peak--well after the train had stopped--letting the conductor finally pull himself away and begin letting his passengers depart.

One by one, the people who had sat with him on the train grabbed their bags and walked down the stairs, off the car and onto the station platform. Horatio politely thanked him with a half-hearted smile, both hands gripping a single suitcase. Ms. Riviera Arroyo got off next, though silently, and with the smallest hint of wanting to hide her face behind her large sunglasses--which were unnecessary under the smog-cover of Lincoln. Gianna followed, dizzily struggling to keep her legs steady as she passed by the conductor with a finger tucked deep in her mouth.

The young man was the last to leave, evidently caught up in penning whatever he was working on before the conductor finally had to remind him that they had arrived. He hastily gathered up his belongings and moved toward the door.

As Richter began to pass the conductor, he paused and let his face turn a few degrees in his direction. Their eyes met briefly, and the passenger, with a polite, but full smile, spoke to him. "Thanks for your hard work, Jim."

Jim the conductor didn't have time to let himself be shocked before Richter was off the train, leaving the car empty. With a grateful wave to no one in particular, Jim closed the doors and began to move up through the cabins, up to the staff car.

He hoped to himself that those people would find what they were looking for in Lincoln.