You’d think the fastest train in the galaxy would be on time.
I sighed and tapped my watch impatiently. It was a Geno 5C, the latest model. A little gift from one of my clients. I stood at the station; hands now jammed into the pockets of my expensive suit. I wished they would turn off that awful ‘space age’ music that I’m fairly certain they just play to make passengers go insane. It’s more like an annoying repeat of the sound of time telling machines that used to exist hundreds of years ago. I groaned again when they played another song: an Afrobeat or whatever they called it. What is this, the olden days?
Finally, the train arrived, ready to take me to my interview on Saturn. It wasn’t my favourite planet –that would be Mars– because it smelled musty, and the environment was very dusty. Last time I was there, dirt totally ruined my shoes. Oh well. Business is business and money is money.
I pulled the strap of my heavy bag as I boarded the train. Geez, who knew carrying around robotic body parts was so tiring? The train car was very dirty, with dirty footprints on the floor and –was that a protein packed fries splattered on the wall? God forbid.
“NEXT STOP! SATURN!”, the conductor announced. He looked like one of those Jupiter inhabitants with his funny looking hat and pudgy purple skin. Aliens can find work anywhere.
I settled into the grimy train seat, my fingers tracing the worn edges of the synthetic cushion. My watch blinked with notifications –emails from clients, reminders about the interview, and a persistent alert about low oxygen levels. I dismissed them all. Oxygen scarcity was a common issue on interplanetary journeys, especially when you are hurtling toward a planet like Saturn.
As the train glided through the vacuum of space, my mind wandered. Why had I –Akpan Edwin– accepted this interview? Maybe it was the allure of credits –the kind that could buy me a sleeker space suit or a ticket to a less dreary corner of the galaxy. Or perhaps it was the challenge –the chance to prove myself as a robotic engineer, even if it meant dealing with Saturn's peculiarities.
Outside the window, Saturn loomed—a hazy orb of muted colours. Its rings, once a symbol of cosmic beauty, now seemed like a cosmic junkyard. Debris, satellites, and abandoned probes circled like vultures. I wondered if my dreams of innovation would end up as space debris too.
The conductor’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Saturn Station, approaching. Mind the gap.”
I stood, hoisting my bag over my shoulder. The doors slid open, revealing a platform bathed in a sickly yellow light. A few passengers disembarked—a trio of Venusian traders, their iridescent scales shimmering, and a Saturnian bureaucrat with too many eyes. I stepped onto the platform, the dust crunching under my shoes.
I caught sight of the Jupiterian conductor, still in his ridiculous hat. The man’s pudgy face split into a grin. “Good luck with your journey, Earthling. Saturn’s got secrets, you know. Hidden beneath those rings.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Secrets?”
The conductor leaned closer, his breath smelling of fermented starfruit. “They say there’s an ancient library here. Holds knowledge from civilizations long gone. But it’s guarded by creatures—half-machine, half-ethereal. They’ll test your wits, I. If you’re worthy, they’ll grant you access.”
I chuckled. “A library? I’m an engineer, not a scholar.”
“Ah, but knowledge shapes creation,” the conductor said. “Remember that.”
As the train pulled away, I glanced back at the conductor. Maybe Saturn held more than dust and bureaucracy. Maybe it held answers—about robotics, about life, about the universe itself.
I adjusted the strap of my bag and stepped into the murky light of Saturn Station. The interview awaited, but perhaps, just perhaps, he’d find more than credits. Maybe I’d find a piece of the cosmos that whispered of forgotten civilizations and the promise of innovation.
And so, I walked toward the heart of Saturn, ready to unravel its secrets—one dusty step at a time.
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