On the Train

by Harry Turtledove

  “Well, let’s get the children into bed,” Sela suggested. “Tomorrow will only be here too soon.”

  After one more trip to the lavatory—this time without any incidents—Eli followed Sela down to the sleeper car. It was lined with bunk beds, each pair separated by soft, gray curtains for privacy.

  Eli got Willin and Rinatta settled into the lower bunk. She knew they were still worn out, since Rinatta barely complained about having to share with her brother, apart from threats to bash his head in if he kicked her or wet the bed from a leaky nappy.

  Eli sat next to them until they were both out and then climbed into her own bunk. The mattress was soft as clouds and the blankets equally fluffy. Too tired to even think about the strangeness, the wonderfulness, of it all anymore, Eli went to sleep.

  “It’s too dark!”

  Eli woke to a cry of astonishment and fear.

  “It’s too dark!”

  It came again, more desperate now. Willin.

  Somewhere in the black sleep of The Train, someone giggled. She could hear other rustles from disturbed sleepers and a few titters.

  Drawing back her bunk’s privacy curtain, Eli was impressed at how much light it blocked out. The aisle outside had a dim light, and the floor was marked with a chain of glowing lights. She climbed out of her bed and crawled into the one below, leaving the curtain partially open to let in some light.

  Willin was snuffling and Rinatta had somehow slept through it all. He embraced Eli furiously.

  “Eli, it got all black. I looked and I looked and I couldn’t find anything. Not even the bed. I couldn’t find you,” he mumbled against her.

  “Sh, shhhh,” she whispered. “I should have remembered you like a nightlight in your room. We just won’t close the curtain all the way from now on. How does that sound?”

  He nodded in response.

  “Let’s be quiet now. The other passengers are still sleeping. We don’t want to wake them up.”

  He settled down and soon went back to sleep. Luckily, he stayed that way.

  But Eli was wide-awake. Despite her luxurious bedding, she could not get comfortable. Her comforter felt too hot, so she kicked it off, and flipped her pillow over. It was refreshing to rest her cheek against the cool side, but it did nothing to bring her closer to sleep. A scared child booted you to full alert.

  That and a full bladder.

  With both children still fast asleep, Eli decided she might as well get a head start for the day. First a trip to the toilet and then maybe a shower by herself. Rinatta usually woke up a little after sunrise, which couldn’t be too far off now.

  Slipping softly out of bed again, Eli made her way to the lavatory car. She didn’t see any other passengers out of their beds, and the compartments she passed were all empty as well.

  Entering the lavatory, she was still impressed with shell-pink floors and glittering faucets—hang on.

  The faucets were gold before. Yes. They had been gold with two little knobs shaped liked flowers, like The Train’s compartment doors. She hadn’t spent long admiring them, but after helping the children wash their hands multiple times, she definitely had noticed them.

  Now the faucets had long silver necks, with a curve at the top. No flowers or extra adornments—they were very sleek, with no handles at all.

  Perplexed, Eli approached the sink. The white porcelain basin was still the same. Had one of the workers come in to replace all the faucets overnight? How strange!

  She gently touched the metal with one finger. Nothing happened. What made the water come out?

  She touched it again, softly. When that produced no result, gave it a firmer tap. Still nothing. Confused, she waved her hand under the spout.

  Suddenly, water rushed out!

  Eli pulled her hand back in surprise, then laughed at herself. Clearly, this was a smart faucet! It knew when you needed to wash!

  Still amused, she went into the stall. The toilet looked different too. It was shorter, squatter, with a little panel of buttons on the side. This was far too much for any servant to have accomplished, Eli realized. The Train had changed itself. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew she was right. People always said The Train changed its appearance from station to station. If it could do that, why not change itself inside as well?

  The buttons turned out to be for gentle sprays—one to rinse off with water, the other to dry with warm air. When she stood up, the waste flushed away instantly, on its own. This was like no magic Eli had ever imagined. It was better.

  Next, she investigated the shower stalls. Each had a sunken floor and a drain in the middle. Each one also had a little bamboo footstool in the corner and bottles of liquidy soaps secured to the wall. Outside were hooks to hang your clothes and shelves with pristinely folded towels.

  Eli undressed and showered. There were two knobs, one for hot water, the other for cold, but she couldn’t figure out how to get the right amount of each. She was either scalded or freezing. She rinsed off the fragrant soap as fast as she could and got out.

  Wrapping herself with a towel, she dried off and put her nightgown back on. Her regular clothes were still in her luggage. She’d need to go get them, as well as fresh outfits for Rinatta and Willin.

  Twisting the towel around her damp hair, she left the lavatory car and made her way down to Compartment Fifteen. Big windows lined the aisles and she could see streaks of orange and pink lining the blue ends of night on the horizon.

  She went into the compartment.

  A man slept on the chair. In her chair. He was not Nassan or Ahn Uma.

  Eli was so surprised, she let out a little shriek before she could stop herself. Embarrassed, she started to clap a hand over her mouth, but then changed her mind and crossed both her arms over her breasts. Her nightgown wasn’t revealing, but she’d never been so skimpily dressed when alone with a man before.

  He opened his eyes and stared at her, so keenly that she felt she might as well have been naked. His eyes were green and he had messy sandy hair. She recognized him—the young fellow who’d offered to carry their bags into The Train!

  A look of recognition also crossed the man’s face. Then he grinned at her, a quick, crooked curve of the lips. He was probably around twenty, Eli guessed, but his features were drawn sweetly, eyes almost too close together, still childlike. His expression reminded her of that impish-look Willin put on when he got caught doing something he knew was slightly naughty, but not worth getting into Big Trouble over.

  Yes, that was exactly what this man looked like now. Like he was hoping he could weasel out of Big Trouble.

  Was he a thief? Did they have thieves in first-class? Frowning, Eli took a quick inventory of the compartment. The luggage and bags were still stowed on their racks, jammed in tightly, so they did not appear to have been rifled. As far as Eli could tell, the man had just been sleeping. Was he a new passenger?

  He ducked his head in a little bow, clearly embarrassed. He pointed to the door and started to get up, ready to leave. In this, she saw Rinatta, who tended to vanish for hours after getting busted for some small crime, only returning when she was sure you’d had enough time to forget to be angry with her. Evasive, but often effective.

  Unsure of what Train-protocol demanded of her, Eli made room for him to go. With a nod of gratitude, he slid past her. His steps were quick, jungle-cat-like, in his soft, soundless boots. In a few moments, he could be down the aisle and gone from view.

  “Wait!” Eli called, raising her hand to show stop. The man turned and hesitated.

  “Name?” Eli blurted out, one of the few Train-talk words she’d grasped that afternoon.

  “Ah!” This time the man’s grin spread over his whole face. “Lucca!”

  “I’m Eli. Eli.” She pointed to herself.

  “Eli!” He repeated and bowed formally to her, a deep bend at the waist with an extra sweep of his arm to show her he was making a joke of it. Then he darted off.

  Well, she might not understand
much about Train-life yet, but that bow told her a lot. Lucca wasn’t a first-class passenger, or not a proper one. She didn’t think he was somebody’s servant, either. He lacked seriousness—he was playful, but in a way that liked to test boundaries. She knew the type—though usually they were two-year-olds.

  Still puzzling over their brief encounter, she got down her suitcase and selected clothes for herself and the children.

  They were already awake by the time she got back to their bunk. Rinatta had gotten up in the top bunk and was hanging dangerously far over the railing to make faces at her brother.

  Willin was giggling like mad, but switched as soon as he spotted Eli. “Stop, stop, make her stop, Eli. She makes faces at me!”

  “I think sleeping in a real bed again has made her silly!” Eli grinned, not about to be taken in by his reversal. She grabbed a firm hold of Rinatta and lowered her, still upside down, from the upper. The girl shrieked with laughter as Eli swung her back and forth before flipping her onto the bottom bunk. Willin scrambled out of the way so she didn’t squish him.

  “Come on, let’s get dressed and figure out how they do breakfast in this place,” said Eli, handing out shirts and pants.

  “They’ll be serving it up in the dining car shortly.”

  Eli looked up and saw Sela standing next to their bed. She appeared to have showered and looked refreshed. Even her fingernails had a new coat of a dark plum-colored polish. She joined them on the mattress and played a little clapping game to occupy Willin while Rinatta got dressed. “Hickory, bickory, bumble bee. Won’t you say your name for me?”

  “Willin!” squealed the boy on cue.

  Everyone was in a good mood as they proceeded to the dining car. Sela led the way to show them where to sit.

  The entire car had been converted into a glamorous restaurant. Floor to ceiling, the walls were giant windows, interspersed with coppery-brown panel curtains, to provide shade from bright sunlight. There were a dozen or so round tables, draped with white cloths. Passengers were already taking their seats while the morning meal was served.

  From across the room, Pria from their compartment spotted them and began waving for them to come join her.

  As they made their way over, Eli noticed that each table was marked with three numbers. Pria’s table had little cards in the center that said Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.

  “Our compartment numbers,” Sela explained. “Every day, we eat with the passengers who ride closest together.”

  Looking back and forth between them, Pria beamed, her plump cheeks glowing bronze like the sun. Assuming the nature of their conversation, she patted the seat next to her husband for Eli to sit down, exclaiming happily.

  “She says we sit together to make better friends.” Sela translated crisply. Her lips twitched a little in distaste for the word “friends.” Like the Baroness, Sela didn’t enjoy social engagements.

  And yet, she somehow had picked up plenty of Traintalk! Eli wondered how much she didn’t know about the old servant woman. Realizing she was staring, she shook her head and greeted Pria and Uma with polite smiles.

  For the children, there were little box seats that could be strapped onto the bottom of the dining chairs for support. This was fortunate, for without it, the table would have been much too high. A servant came around with a platter of fresh fruits and flaky biscuits with jam. The children devoured them with gusto and even Eli thought she had never eaten something so heavenly.

  Halfway through, Nassan showed up and joined their table. He still looked sleepy and did not talk much until he had drunk two cups of black coffee. Several other passengers drifted in as well and took their seats at the table. Eli peeked at them, but tried not to attract too much attention to herself and her ignorance of life on The Train.

  Some had dressed for breakfast with careful attention, while Eli found herself wondering how others could have afforded a first-class ticket at all. Across from her sat a scruffy-looking man in a purple T-shirt. He had a frizz of brown hair, as if he had been out in a lightning storm. His arms and the back of his neck were covered with the same fuzz, making him a great bear of a man. Two mustached men took seats at the opposite end of the table. They were dressed almost identically and much more formally in buttoned shirts and gray linen jackets. Both had silver badges pinned on their pockets. They seized cups of coffee and fell deep into discussion with Nassan. An elderly woman with a cane clunked her away across the dining carriage and then took a chair at their table as well.

  Eventually, only one seat remained empty.

  The Baroness.

  Eli was sure she hadn’t joined this group for dinner last night. Now she was skipping breakfast. The Baroness clearly wanted nothing to do with the other passengers. Did she consider them beneath her? Surely she was not so important as that? None of Eli’s tablemates paid much attention to the unfilled spot. Perhaps they were used to a constant flow of changing passengers. The car was filling up, but some scattered seats were left. Eli didn’t see any other travelers with children.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Rinatta dropped a biscuit in her lap, jam side down. Eli poured a little water from her glass onto her cloth napkin and told the girl how to mop it up.

  A murmur of voices drew her attention to the back to the car. A conductor was stepping up onto a little platform beside the wall. It was a stage, Eli realized, with three large stringed instruments propped next to some stools. But the conductor was not about to begin a performance.

  He was the rat-faced man—the ticket checker. The tester.

  He drew out a whistle from around his neck and blew a short blast that made her ears ring. Then he held up a long piece of paper: some sort of flyer. It was printed in bold, black ink. At the top was a blocky illustration. Even from so far away, Eli could make it out: a Train compartment with a figure of a person going out through the door. At the bottom were lines and lines of various scripts.

  The conductor spoke rapidly, making his announcement or explaining the paper.

  “What’s he saying?” hissed Rinatta, in her best attempt at a quiet voice.

  “Shhhh!” Eli hushed her, pressing her finger over her lips. “Wait.”

  The conductor continued. No matter how hard she tried, Eli could not make out his message, so she gave up and studied the man instead. He was not an animated speaker. His uniform was wrinkled and there was a stain on his tunic. His skin was ashy, his lips stretched in an ugly grimace. She couldn’t tell if it was because he was reporting bad news or out of disgust for this crowd. His figure was hunched, as if he hated to be the focus of their attention, and yet there was defiance in the way he returned their gaze. Yes. Defiance, almost viciousness. His eyes hunted among them. Looking—for what?

  Abruptly, he finished his speech. Without waiting for a response from the passengers, he stepped down from the stage and stalked back across the car. He stopped briefly at the entrance, only to pin his poster to the door. Then he was gone. Everyone in the car started to talk at once.

  Eli turned to Sela. “What was all that about?”

  The servant woman took a sip of water, frowning. “Slinkers.”

  “What’s a slinker?” demanded Rinatta.

  “I’m afraid my Traintalk is rusty, so I couldn’t follow everything. But from what I gathered, there has been a problem with slinkers riding on The Train again.” Sela pursed her lips. “Slinkers are, how shall I say this, unwanted passengers. In Ugara, we might call them tramps. But that’s not quite right either. Slinkers shouldn’t be here. Sometimes they have an expired ticket—they didn’t get off when they were supposed to. Or they never had a ticket at all, just snuck onto The Train, though that hardly seems possible. Otherwise, I believe they come up from second or third-class, trying to sneak into more comfortable positions, even though they don’t have a valid ticket for it.”

  “But what do they do?” Rinatta persisted, hanging on every word. “What’s a slinker do? Slink?”

  Sela chuckled. “I’m
not sure how they got that name. I guess because they’re supposed to be very sneaky. Respectable passengers like us, we rarely see them. They just slide by, as if they’re invisible. From what I understood, they mostly come out at night and try and sleep in people’s compartments while we sleep in our beds.”

  Eli, about to take a sip from her own water cup, choked. She coughed noisily, as Willin stared unbelievingly at Sela. “Why they don’t sleep in their bed?” he queried.

  Sela shrugged. “I guess they don’t have a bed, so our chairs seem better than the floor or a hard bench.”

  “They sleep on the floor?” Rinatta squealed. “Do they have a blanket?”

  Eli gulped her water, trying to stifle more coughs. It gave her an excuse to hide her surprise.

  That sandy-haired man. Lucca. She had definitely met a slinker. No wonder he had been so eager to get out of Big Trouble!

  “What do they do if they catch a slinker? What will that man do to one?” Rinatta wondered.

  “Kill him to death!” Three-year-old Willin’s blood-and-guts phase responded instantly.

  “Most likely.” Sela sighed. “It’s not a safe life. If they catch you slinking, I believe the punishment is death. And I imagine hiding around The Train all day is dangerous, too. But don’t expect to see any slinkers. They’re not like us. They’re bad people.”

  After her brief encounters, Eli wasn’t convinced that Lucca was bad. Reckless, certainly. Maybe he wasn’t a very good slinker yet. After all, she’d seen him twice now! Perhaps he’d be more careful from here on, with these extra warnings against slinkers. She doubted she’d run into him again.

  Sela brushed crumbs off of Rinatta’s shirt. “You must eat more neatly,” she said. “A Baroness minds each bite. It gives her strength and she does not let any go to waste.”

  Rinatta sucked in her breath. “Mama’s the Baroness, not me. I’m never going to be like her. I never even see her. How should I know how she eats?” The last bit came out in a high-pitched whine, as Rinatta waited for Sela to scold her.

  But the old woman only looked at the girl. She was silent a long time. “You are as she is,” she said at last.