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Yetti Hyper-Vactrain 510A

P.A.F.I.C (New World Compound) LATADY, ANTARCTICA ISLAND

By C.A Fenderson Jr.Published 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 10 min read
3
Infinite-Journeys-3D-challenge

There are days when you have a lot on your mind, and it seems like your thoughts slip away from you when you try to concentrate. My life is like losing my place in a book that I am reading. The only people who genuinely know me lived through my childhood. I never knew my dad and regret thinking about my biological mother. On the way to work today, I left my anxiety pills at home again. My fears happen when I think about her back then—Sister Romas, my adopted mother.

Traveling to work is more than an adventure—it is a quest that is painful and prolonged. I know it is worth all that I am going through. Flying more than 10,465 miles to work is common in the new world. Taking a supersonic train through mountainous Antarctica is the exciting part. It is no roller coaster ride at a theme park. No one knows for sure how long the trip takes once we land on the island to get to the Global Council Complex-a-thon.

The touring will take up to a day for me one way, so I have scheduled to stay on the island my entire workweek. My job will begin on this damn plane for the next shift, however, and by the time I get to work, a full two days will have passed with the time difference. Another reason why I hate to do work at all when I arrive at my station.

The Joy.

JUNE 30th, 2052 (global unactuated date)

I finally arrive on the island about 15 hours later. The complex is in the middle of nowhere. Some say that the Gods rekindled the complex's existence. If this is true, then the heavens must still be on our side.

Offer up faith-citizens to the Gods who have rekindled the world.

Being here brings out the best in me, sarcastically speaking. Others say that the compound was first developed in the early 1900s. In any event, the Global Superior has kept the poles off the map for over a century.

Why was there a treaty not exploring Antarctica, you ask?

As far as I know, we are not anywhere near Antarctica. Deception rules the flock and controls the weak.

Poetic.

We arrive at a vacuum train, which does not move unless it has the correct weight of each individual with secret security clearance onboard. I have a perfect memory for profiling each passenger, which comes in handy when I bypass the system to cover my absences. I would like to take credit for the McKinnon virus I uploaded at my employer’s facility; the problem is, that I hacked the virus from someone. I am not a computer genius. People tell me I am too smart for that.

The truth is I am a smart ass to the people here, and I have no friends that even speak to me. Not here for these people. If they knew who I was, they would have processed me directly into Rapture Zell.

The same elderly woman holds the door open for me as if this was a subway. I tell her that she does not have to keep the door; it is all programmed and sophisticated.

She just replies, "Heh?"

She reminds me of an old Gypsy woman I met when I abandoned the church. That is somewhat mean to say. However, I always felt that the Gypsy woman could tell I was a thief and a con artist, already at the age of 12. She may have even known that I had a foster mother because she would mention-

‘Sweet Sister Romas’

The train has a perfect weight, and the doors all close simultaneously. There is no need to sit unless you want to. The Global Council places a high value on specifics. Nothing happens here by mistake. Before every trip on this train, the voice on the intercom noticeably clarifies:

[Ding]

Greetings, citizens of the new world. You have arrived by flight 48465a at 0400 to Latady Island, Antarctica. You are aboard the underground train Yetti 510a. The coordinates for your destination are 70°45′ S and 74°35′ W. Your travel time may vary for security reasons or concerns. Thank you. Enjoy, and remember, to have unconscious, contentious thoughts. ’

It always kills me to hear the same announcement each boarding. The crazy thing is that if you do not pass the security scan to get on the plane and on the train, an official will escort you off to the processing center. That is what I did a few months ago, with the help of some prosthetics, so no one would see my beautiful features. Breaking out of the processing center was easy. However, it's not as much fun as getting to work here right after escaping. Well, maybe installing my virus over the next few days took the cake. The credit goes to the streets.

You can never see the outside of this supersonic vactrain. You're not going to be able to see it go by at 1,200 mph. The room that opens the doors to go inside the train is the only thing you see. I prefer to stand strapped up, while some others choose to sit. The process does not take long. The only thing I hate is the three minutes before we take off. Across the top of the inside of the train is a digital text strip. You know what time the train will be leaving when this red strip lights up, counting down from 02:59. The last three minutes before we leave are referred to as the "Converspeer period" by faith citizens.

Right on cue, the voice on the intercom goes into full detail and explains:

[Ding]

‘You may now begin, Converspiring. Converspeer is to speak from within to others as a form of communication routed from the soul. One of the goals is to create a form of communication that will bypass normal conversation and have men connect subconsciously. Your three minutes start now. ’

I hate this part. Struggling to secure the last strap on a leg is a tall man with a beard from a barbershop quartet. He stands to my right side each odyssey to have our little ‘talk.' He catches his finger in the straps.

"Whew, already at 2:46 and counting." He laughs out loud, trying to play it off. "Maybe I should start over with a mantra?"

"Just stop talking to me." I look away.

"But we are converspiring, my beautiful friend." He replies.

"Breathe in, om. Breathe out, Om. Most women are braver than most men. A woman who is physical with a man that is not hers is like a train. It takes a lot to start it and a hell of a lot to try to stop it.

Love is energy. Fall in love with someone who deserves your heart, not someone who plays with it. When you know exactly what it is you desire, you don't accept anything less or keep anything else. ’"

Yeah, touché. We have 2 minutes left.

"Are you finished now?" I would give anything for this train to start moving and to get this heart-to-heart over.

At least when we do start and reach max speed, no one can hear you speak, so no one does. I should not be rude to the barbershop quartet guy. I recognize the significance of conversation for faith-citizens. One of the forms of communication and speech, section groups, along with the Global Council, are deemed protected.

People in the new world do many different things to avoid predeterminism and especially in the angel realm.

"Well, I'd rather see you doing something positive to stay in the new world instead of going out into the streets and using alternative devoirs," I say, turning my head back away.

The new world is engulfed by demonic spiritual transformations, sacrifices, and criminals. The black market overflows with new technology designed to help you deter thoughts of killing a person. Many people create vices that are bogus and ineffective. The predeterminism system is implemented to stop you before you kill someone. The last thing the earth needs is the angels coming to collect more souls to send to the rapture worlds. At least that is the last thing a citizen would want.

"39 seconds more. Please, reach out to me and speak from your soul.” The giant man is persistent at best. He always finds a way to converse with me.

Now that I think about it, he would be the one who would know if I did not show up to work. Him and the gypsy woman. I do not see this turning out well for me. I lift my head and close one eye.

"Love and value yourself," I respond. "You are God's creation, and He paid a high price for you to be alive today," I smirk and return my gaze to him. “If you aim at nothing, you'll hit it every time."

He looks at me and turns away, his mustache crooked. The man may not have an appreciation for my witty charm. When you converspeer, it has to be from within. People in the new world often speak in riddles and rhymes to stay focused.

What do I care?

The red timer fades away as the 02:59 minutes are over. A subtle pressure builds up around the enclosed compartment of the train. I close my eyes and imagine a mixture between a baritone and a French horn as the low 222-440 Hz frequencies of the train hum.

Finally, we depart.

A light brownish taste chokes inside my throat, awakening me. What once was a strap keeping my balance is now covered with the blood from my wrists, both tied with black leather. While choking and desperate to look around the vactrain, trying to loosen my arms in immense pain, suddenly, the barber's man’s lifeless body bumps across my brow, leaving his bloody remains all over my face.

"What the hell?" I screamed, at the top of my lungs.

As I twist and contort my frame, I see all the other passengers on the train slumped over, apparently dead. I bump my knee and shin every few seconds as I notice the erratic, impulsive speed of the train dramatically changing. I hear the blood dripping. I smell burnt skin and flesh.

"Help me... help!" I choke on more of my blood as I yell, fearing for my life.

An electromagnetic baton jolts me in the center of my vertebrae by a larger guard who is accompanied by more guards inside the vactrain.

"Shut up with all of that noise before you end up dead like the others." He exclaims.

The others. What in the world happened to the other passengers? The old lady? Where the hell are we now?

Endless thoughts of peril rush through my mind as I can no longer feel my face. I don’t understand if this is real or a dream. I cannot fully turn my body to see behind me, and the slightest movement, I fear, will cause the guard to assault me further. Before I could let out another cry for help, the lifeless old man lets out a death cough, barely alive, and looks up from the floor of the speeding train.

"We are inside a multiverse time shift." He coughs while spitting up blood and continues. "I overheard the guards speaking to each other that the angels in the rapture world have attacked the island."

Before I could look down to respond, the train slows to half speed, causing the man’s body to flail head-on towards the back compartment, instantly decapitating him in a blood-filled horror. The erratic speed of propulsion immediately returns, causing his headless body to fumble all the way to the front of the train. I scream inside with terror.

How can this be happening, a time shift from the rapture angels?

I realize that the vactrain will never stop as we are in an endless loop due to the security features of the global council which protects them from the angelic realms. This forced anomaly occurs only while the island can be breached by the rapture realms. But how did these guards get aboard the train without my assessment?

I do not have the equipment to protect me from the angels and demons. There is no way out of the time shift unless the angels depart. All of my security measures and clearances are missing, and I have no idea where we are. I am afraid to die, and I may never find my mother now.

Artist: https://www.artstation.com/davidmccabe1

Sci Fi
3

About the Creator

C.A Fenderson Jr.

Metaphysician, author, spiritual counselor, certified copywriter specialist, and entrepreneur. livezealously.com

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