The View From the Zephyr

The Zephyr was the single largest train ride in the world. More specifically, The Zephyr was the name given to the train making that trip, but the name had become synonymous with the trip and the tracks it was made on. The train itself was made up over 17 cars and nearly reached 1,500 feet long. It could hold just under 330,000 passengers plus active crew. It’s journey spanned over 2,200 miles of track and ran across all kinds of scenery including plains, lakes, and mountains. Add onto that, it was an international railway; the accumulative accomplishment of four nations. Passengers were boarding and their luggage was being stored. The train engineers were running checks and communication between the starting and ending destinations flowed to establish the timeline for travel. Today was the last day of its journey and, unbeknownst to the passengers, the last day the Zephyr would ever make this journey.

It was a beautiful day. The sky was unobstructed by clouds, allowing the sun to further intensify the summer heat. A gentle breeze blew through quite consistently, working against the forces of the sun to cool down the travelers as they awaited their placement into the air conditioned cars of The Zephyr. One of these travelers was a man by the name of Eno Storm; a husband, father of one child - a daughter - and a very high ranking political figure on his way to another nation for a meeting on recent world events. A very dangerous terrorist had been raising national security concerns between nearly every major civilization in the world and a meeting was called to discuss and share their findings. The meeting was still some days out and Eno had always wanted to take the Zephyr, so he decided he may as well make it a business expense. Finally, he and the final few hundred passengers with him, were boarding. It would only be ten to fifteen minutes before the train officially left the station. Ten to fifteen minutes which would, no doubt, pass quickly - too quickly - as Eno made himself comfortable in his seat and got his things in order. He plugged his wireless earbuds into his ears, set his laptop up in its place, and set his phone to vibrate. He already had an agenda for his travel time, complete with breaks scheduled at times where the scenery outside the train was said to be at its most breathtaking.

“Good morning, good morning,” rang the voice of the train’s operator throughout each car. “It’s another beautiful day, with temperatures expected to be consistently in the high eighties to mid nineties and clear skies for the whole trip. This should mean plenty of beautiful wildlife and countryside scenery on full display for your viewing pleasure and - more importantly - no delays.” Eno was certainly glad to hear this. The whole point of a train ride in the modern age was the scenery, after all. “Regardless, it’s my job to make sure everyone on this train gets to where they’re going safely first, and on time second. Please note, we will not be operating tomorrow, as it is a holiday. Alright, pre-trip checks are all completed and we’ve got the green light to go, so please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times; absolutely no smoking in the lavatories; and thank you for riding aboard the Zephyr. Next stop, Saint Petersburg.” With that, the train began moving: slowly at first, but it didn’t take very long for it to get up to its full speed.

Then, after a quick trip to the lavatory for a midday smoke, Eno sat down and opened his laptop up for work. A masked man with ties to domestic terrorist groups across several countries had been broadcasting recently, claiming responsibility for every major act of terror in the month up to now. Little was known about the man, relatively speaking. Operating under the alias “Kaos,” his birth name unknown. Country of origin unknown, though he spoke in his broadcasts with a lofty English accent. Eno’s brother, who worked for Interpol, informed him that Kaos had been loosely tied to several more terrorist attacks over the past year. He must have friends in high places as he’s seemingly funding each terrorist cell he’s been connected to and is frequently at least one step ahead of the Interpol investigations. Eno jotted a note down onto his work tablet; “He’s got a man on the inside?” A decent assumption, he thought. Interpol is often on the edge of what’s known where terrorists and international criminals are concerned. After all, what Eno’s homeland could say about Kaos, without Interpol leaks, was simply boiled down to, “male, terrorist, motives unknown.” Although, that last part wasn’t necessarily true.

Eno hit ‘play,’ on Kaos’ most recent rant, which he had started before his smoke break. “But how has the modern world failed? Isn’t this a time of advancement? Of inclusion and global peace? Are we not reaching new heights of achievement every day? No. These are lies sold to you by powers both seen and unseen. Lies that were once true of many great nations! We built a whole world from forests and stone. We can travel in personal vehicles capable of driving more than 300 kilometers per hour. We have been to our moon! We live in a time where the most successful economic system thrives, uplifting the rich and the poor alike. Safety is only a concern for the poorest nations, and even then their greatest threat is themselves. Cities and modern structures provide consistent safety against natural disasters and dangerous beasts. And yet, that’s all built on past works. The powers that be would have you believe we’ve plateaued. The truth is, we’ve lost our edge. The only advancements made today are safe and uncontroversial ones. Investors and politicians hoard and launder more wealth than they could ever wisely use. And inclusion? What a joke. Proof that even our conflicts are safe and risk free. With the comforts of every day life, we grow restless- we know it’s wrong to laze about. So conflict is manufactured, in case the more determined of society can no longer stand its complacency. I tell you, the only achievements of this century, going before your lifetimes, are meager or secret. The meager are to be spat on and deemed failures. The secret - soon - shall be shown to the world. And yet, the world is sedated and does not care. So that too must be fixed.”

First he scorns the world. Then he praises it, then he scorns it again. He’s impressed by what he considers to be past ideals and accuses politicians and investors of playing it too safe. “That’s easy to say,” Eno thought. “All that ‘great advancement,’ of the past was done out of desperation. A desperation we’ve largely eliminated. The way this guy operates doesn’t prove he’s better, just desperate… and we can use that.” Eno saw the world as a series of opportunities to be taken or passed up. It took a critical eye and a sharp mind to assess which opportunities were which, both of which Kaos may or may not have. But there’s something he definitely lacks if he’s making so much noise; confidence. There’s no possible way he sees a long term win for himself. He’s acting out of desperation and trying to bring society to the same desperation, so that they’ll listen to him. It’s an old, obvious tactic that Eno himself has used - and intends to use in his meeting - although without his own desperation attached. Such a strategy thrives when you think your audience is already desperate, or on the verge, and you aren’t. Kaos is right to think there’s no long term for himself; the roles between himself and his audience are reversed. “Best try to hide that fact from the others,” Eno schemed. And he continued scheming for much of the day. He listened to Kaos again and again, consulting his own notes and the information his brother had fed him from Interpol. If he could predict the next acts of terror, if he could get ahead of the chaos, then he had all the leverage in negotiating with the others. So far, nearly every attack Kaos is believed to be behind involves urban destruction. From bombings to military assaults, the target is almost always key to the running infrastructure and always within city limits. That alone narrows down his next plan, but not in a way any idiot couldn’t predict. He’s destroyed public transport, shut down power grids, attacked police departments.

Just then, his alarm rang: it was time for another break. So, he closed his laptop and fixed his posture, swearing to hear pops and cracks as he adjusted his body. He turned to his window to behold the newest sight. The Zephyr currently rode at its highest altitude across the entire trip, atop a great mountain. From there, one could see for miles out. Eno could see the great, green landscape dotted with towns and cities, and rivers. He could see all the way out to the skyline of Saint Petersburg, his destination. It truly was a breathtaking view, to behold so much of creation all at once. To enjoy how much of it had been settled by man. He considered the advancements made to bring him this view. The great Zephyr and the track that was laid for it to travel along. The technology within it which allowed it to maintain comfortable oxygen levels at such a height. Its air conditioning which allowed the viewing of such a beautiful day without the need to directly interact with its heat or humidity. The peace achieved between all these nations that made traveling from one to the other without issue possible. It was such a good time to be alive. How could one like Kaos exist to complain about it? And as he thought, enjoying his break, something in Eno reminded him that’s he’s not enjoying it as much as he could. So, he made his way to the lavatory to smoke a cigarette. He opened the carton to find his last one. He had forgotten to buy another pack at his previous stop. Best make the most of this one.

When he returned to his seat he found a still sealed pack of the very same cigarettes on his seat. He stood in shock for a moment, then turned back and forth, surveying the car. Nobody seemed particular suspicious. A couple with their child, each putting their headphones back on as the train entered a tunnel. A young adult watching something on his phone. An older man napping, his laptop opened to a social media site. And more of the same kind in each seat, of varied ages, all turning from the previous view to their devices. Eno stowed the cigarettes in his pocket and walked anxiously down the car, stopping at each empty seat to see if anything had been left at one. Across the whole car, the only thing of interest found was the colorful arrangement of gum stuck to the bottom of each table between seats. So, he returned to his own seat and opened his laptop, only to find another surprise; a note. It read “Just a few hours left to solve it, Mr. Storm. Don’t you pride yourself on being smarter than your brother?” Eno again glanced the room, then marched to the smoke detector and removed its batteries, unimpeded by anyone in the car. He sat down, opened his window and immediately opened his cigarettes, inspecting the case before beginning to smoke one.

Kaos knew his name, his work, and his connections. Some of which was publicly accessible information, but not his own beliefs about his brother, not his current research on the Zephyr, and certainly not that being his last cigarette. The former is a thing that could only be learned by observing he and his brother, especially in a setting where boasting was to be expected from public officials. His current work would only be known by someone spying his screen on the train, as would replacing the cigarettes. But to know he needed more implies whoever this was had been with him since the previous day, if not longer. He would’ve seen him in public. Or in the lavatory, but that seems less likely and less desired as a thought. Far too many people to consider could be on the train. But he wanted Eno to know he was there. Why? To intimidate? Distract? No, to encourage. Kaos believes in putting work in, that’s what Eno was doing. He’s taunting him because there’s something at play. Not much time… Then the realization hit him. The next attack would be on Saint Petersburg. He pulled up various news sites on his laptop, searched for anything on the city. Then he began making calls, first to his brother to inform him of the next target. “We’re sorry. The number you are trying to reach is not available.” No, that can’t be right. He tried calling again, only to receive the same message. So, he called his assistant. “Hey, listen to me this is important, and I can’t reach Jack. I-”

“Of course you can’t.” A heavily processed man’s voice cut him off. “I’d think someone like you would have the presence of mind not to leave his phone unattended like that. Though, it’s hard to blame you when everyone else in your train car is essentially a zombie.”

“Kaos,” was Eno’s only reply.

“No, just someone who believes in what he’s doing.”

“Really? You believe in mindless acts of terror?” Eno stood to survey the car again as he spoke.

“We both know they’re not mindless. They’re getting attention. Getting people to live for themselves, away from the synthetic society your kind manufactured.

“At least we’re creating things, not just destroying them.”

“You only make what you know directly benefits you. The real work is done underground”

“Your work, yes? Does that not directly benefit you?”

“Our work will benefit those who come after us more.”

“I think any one of ‘my kind’ would say the same.”

“And any honest one would admit they’re restrained. Either by their investors and lawmakers, or by themselves. Meanwhile, you restrain the common man, so that anything you do that would involve risk doesn’t. Even that would only be the risk of bad press.”

“Please, I’ve endured bad press.”

“Bad press barely heard by the zombies around you. By people who don’t care enough and want to get back to their entertainment.”

“What is it you people have against enjoying life?”

“Get serious. Escaping all responsibilities and personal relationships, hiding away in artificial realities. Does that sound like enjoying life? Or avoiding it? You’re successful at all because you work for it. But you and your friends ensure nobody else has interest in putting in the same work.”

“That’s up to them.”

“They don’t know that. They will, but now it’s too late. Have you figured it out?”

“You’re going to attack Saint Petersburg.”

“How?” Eno was stunned for a moment. ‘How?’ How was he to know? He thought back through everything for a clue. The attacks were what Kaos likely considered “poetic,” targeting what each location was known for; he bombed the greatest public transport network, shut down the largest city grid, and attacked the greatest police force in its nation. So he began sifting through files on Saint Petersburg. It was a technological haven with several labs and social media headquarters. “Come on, Eno, Jack’s figured this out.”

“One of the media HQ’s.” Eno grinned as he guessed.

“No. Are you even paying attention to your own research? It’s time for some secrets to be revealed.”

“What secrets?”

“The real advancements we’ve made. The few real risks. Things the public ‘can’t know about.’ And we’ve got a great view of it.”

Eno’s alarm sounded, telling him to take another break and enjoy the next view; a grand lake, and the last scenery before the city. He hesitantly turned to look out his window and his breath was truly taken away at what he saw. Erupting from the city skyline, was a creature of impossible size. A bio-mechanical organism, shaped like a lizard, with no discernible mouth. It had narrow eyes that glowed bright blue; three on either side of its head, each set spaced about its own height above the previous. Its rough skin, or scales, or whatever that was shown a dark color, somewhere between blue and grey. It was taller than the tallest building and, it became clear as it emerged, longer too. Its tail stretched beyond the city boarder and over the lake. As it swung in their direction, Eno feared it may be long enough to strike the train, if even by accident, yet it was not. They were safe; spared. But the train maintained its course, as if the operator didn’t see the colossal abomination tearing their destination apart. The beast struck out against the city with claws larger than any truck. Amidst its rampage, its face opened in four directions, revealing what seemed from this distance to be rows of oscillating teeth and some mechanism resembling a throat behind them. From this mechanism grew a blue glow, which grew in intensity before a fiery beam as thick as a building shot from it. It wagged its head slowly and seemingly at random, cleaving buildings in half and no doubt causing untold casualties in the streets. Its tail waved back across the lake, towards the direction of the city as it continued its fiery rampage. Its beam leveled building after building and then shot down military crafts sent towards it. Its very movement crumbled structures in its path as it marched through the city.

“That’s it Eno,” the man on the phone taunted. “The end of world.”