The Metro stop was a large tube. The walls and ceiling were patterned with rectangular blocks of sandy, grainy-looking kind of concrete indented around tightly packed sandy soil. Light fixtures were on the ground. There were no benches, maps, or indication we were at a real stop. I did see a door, however. Looking through the wire-mesh glass next to it, I could see office space…reminiscent of where Phoebe took us.

I almost leaned in for a revealing question, but I was interrupted by a pervasive, howling whistle, presumably coming from our ride. The whole stop quaked. I sat along the outer edge of the group. Once it arrived, Rebecca helped me up again.

As a torrent of geometric colors zipped by, with the roar of industrial machinery making contact with one another, the Metro filled the entire station with half a dozen entrances. The train was green. It looked like a steam locomotive, I think. It went out of view almost as soon as it slowed down. All that I could see were the somewhat tube-shaped passenger cars, with giant bronze wheels, brass braces banded between each window, and the dozens of people from what I could assume was a nearby survivor group.

I tried to wave and introduce myself until I got a handle on who was who. There was an ‘M’ group and an ‘X’ group. Apparently, the ‘X’ group consisted of more floaters who moved around a lot in the west. No one stood out in particular, no matter what rank they called themselves or what sort of curveball question I threw at them. Some of them were interested to meet me, although it felt like theater, like it didn’t matter what I was saying, rather that I gave them attention and made them feel special. Although, I’m in transit. But on the other hand, it’s not like I’m looking for some super deep, sublime conversation or whatever. None of them looked me in the eye. None of them responded to me; they just responded to noise.

Naturally, I gravitated back to where I started. I stood while Rebecca and Anna sat in the seat in front of me. I preferred it this way, holding onto the bar above while swaying back and forth when the Metro started moving again. They were mid-conversation. My little adventure trying to make a connection with someone else took the time between two Metro stops. Naturally, I was going to miss something somewhere else in my life.

“I was surprised, as you can imagine. Here’s a store for clothing, here’s another store for clothing, and even a bakery if you happen to get tired of the clothing-” Rebecca explained while spatially mapping out everything with her hands shaped like boxes.

“From eating them, right?” Anna interjected. The two of them had a brief, uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“Absolutely, the blue ones taste the best. Seeing a library was not what I expected. Yes, I was going to eat books too,” Rebecca continued while Anna audibly affirmed her dietary choices.

They briefly glanced at me at this point, where I caught a brief, very toothy smile from Rebecca.

“It was there, exactly where they said it would be on the map. Color me surprised- a place where an entire team of scouts said it would be was at where they said it was,” She laughed again, nearly wincing.

“Yes, I found almost everything they were looking for. Before you ask, before you- ah-hah- waste your breath on such a silly question such is this. I found the instruction manuals for engineering for everything in the southern area, ‘Broad Culinary Uses for Salt’, ‘Traditional Remedies for Various Illnesses’; I didn’t find that one on Famine, but I did find all the other rare works- ‘Fire, what is it good for?’, ‘Twelve Ways to Connect With Others’, and ‘The Unbiased History of the City’,” she tabbed through them with a particularly vibrant bookbag she had.

I felt like I could follow along despite jumping in the middle.

Anna took the instruction manual. Then, she asked, “Can I see the one on engineering?”

“No, that one is mine.” Rebecca almost looked serious for a moment. After a moment of pretending to be tense, she laughed.

Anna hesitated and made a clicking ‘Eureka’ sound: “What about that one about the Winter Solstice?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, that one is memorized,” Rebecca replied.

“You’re trying to make yourself an asset? I thought we were all on the same team,” Anna exposited.

Rebecca simply responded with a scrunched-up, awkward grin.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Anna read the room. She moved forward instead of retracing Rebecca’s grocery list: “D’you think they’re going about this all wrong?”

I interjected for more context. “Do those books have a purpose other than being read?”

Rebecca was genuinely shocked. She tabbed through to check. Investigating each book was a tactile process more than looking for visual clues. After minutes of going through each book, Rebecca looked back at me, somewhat defeated.

“I doubt we’d have enough time to figure out what sort of puzzle the group you’re going to give that to would solve. I can make guesses as much as anyone else, especially given what inappropriate scenario we’re in to be checking out books.” I had to stop and think a few times to put my words together.

“Well, now you just ruined this whole trip. We have a few options, although we’re stuck in transit. I don’t think handing over the books will necessarily be a problem. You make a valid point, though, and we should be cautious about what bargaining chips we have,” She executed flawlessly.

Interaction slowed to a lull. I assume they were contemplating the next steps, as was I. I felt comfortable with this particular silence. There wasn’t tension. Well, maybe there was tension, but it wasn’t aimed at me. We all had the same train of thought, as far as I was aware.

Making decisions is hard. In order to be me, I feel like I should stick with the decisions I make. What I submit cannot be unsubmitted. What I associate with myself sticks to me like glue. What direction I declare will be where my sails face. I feel as if there are a few benefits to staying resolute, in other words, standing by my decisions. One, it’s easy to remember what I did. Two, I will not betray anyone. Three, it’s a way to not be paralyzed by decision making.

Okay, so memory. It’s hard. It’s hard for a lot of people to remember what they do, even just that morning. I honestly forget what I ate today, and I presume night hasn’t even fallen. Why it's hard to remember is because there’s no reason why I chose what I did for breakfast. Whatever I had at the moment and what was practical was what I ate. Those two principles are things I can remember. Retracing how those principles manifest is a different story. If I can slot together what I did based on what I wouldn’t do, as well as what resulted in where I am now, I can remember what I did.

Trust. Memory obviously helps trust. If someone asks you to tell your side of the story when faced with a situation, having a good memory helps. What separates the two points, though, is that you have no reason to be fickle about who you associate with when you stick to the decisions you make. If you have a particular belief that you truly cling to, you’ll always behave oriented towards that belief. The people who run parallel to that belief will associate with you one way, and those who don’t mesh well with that belief will engage with you differently. You’ll always act based on certain principles, so the only way you could break someone’s trust is if they initiated a breach in your trust first. If they become fundamentally different, they will gravitate around you differently. You can’t be blamed for changing, as you’ve never changed.

Choice paralysis. Choosing things when there are more and more things to choose takes longer. Having chosen something that you regret also wastes time. The worst decision is to be unintentional with your decision-making. There’s no issue not making a choice, but it has to be a choice in and of itself. Either the decision is not worth your time, which is itself a decision, or it doesn’t concern you: also a decision. There are scenarios when you don’t make decisions. If you don’t make a conclusion in your mind, that’s a lack of a decision. It results in a complete lack of control and a lack of exercising ethical behavior.

“Okay, so do you ever think-” I was almost able to ask.

“No,” She interrupted, and after a moment of shock, she and Anna burst into laughter.

Conversation picked up as much as the Metro did. Even after the Metro halted, I felt snappier, easier to listen to the full context of what Rebecca was saying. I could only speak from my perspective, but I felt like I was almost fully present with her. That effect spilled over to Anna, who was a part of the interaction.

I can’t say the same about the others I’ve met thus far. I don’t know what is up with myself, but everything I say comes out wrong. I feel like I need my hand held just to express myself. I’m like a slug where the trail behind me is made of mistakes. I feel like I can see it coming; I can easily describe what I’ve done wrong, how I’ve done it wrong when I’ve done something wrong. I still do what I shouldn’t. I feel like the only time I haven’t crashed and burnt with someone yet is when I’m around Rebecca. Anna doesn’t hate me right now. Rebecca is still amused by my presence. I don’t know how to stop myself from being an embarrassment, and I don’t know how to make what I’ve wronged right. I feel like I can’t do this by myself.

But we’ve arrived, regardless of how anyone feels. We could hear a lot of screaming from the inside. That’s obviously a good sign. Given the clear sign of danger, ‘R’ group- the apparently more situationally aware group- led the way to higher ground. We ended up finding a way in several stories above ground, which is not a friendly passageway for the acrophobic.

Describing it as a ‘Conference’ was a bit of a hyperbole. It was a nightmare. It looked more like the entire floor was the pit to a hardcore show, and there wasn’t a single person who wasn’t moshing. Rebecca’s heart, for the first time I’ve seen, had skipped a beat. She was frozen. As much as I wanted to match her sentiment, the only thing I could think of is: “At least I can’t blame them for it this time.”