Station To Station

Next stop Brookside — Doors open on the left at Brookside

The speaker of the train’s announcement system is warm and androgynous, the kind of euphonious tone that could only exist as a computer-generated simulation of a human voice.  There’s no identifiable pitch or timbre to it, no distortion of sound from impacted phlegm or damaged vocal cords.  Its delivery is flawless, and would always remain that way, while the people hearing its dulcetly intoned instructions slowly decayed.

Outside pipes, cables, and small yellow lights speed by as the car bumps and rattles along the track. Everyone around him is occupied by phones, newspapers, and books, but Keith is staring out the window as the concrete corridor whizzes past, wondering about the endless hours it took to create the network of tunnels and platforms that connected one end of the city to the other.